Still mobile

Thankfully, I haven't been incapacitated. I am still mobile, just inconvenienced. Am learning to rely on my knees more and am supporting my weight against sturdy objects like tables and walls if I need to go off-balance, say for changing clothes, or standing up or sitting down. The worst pain comes from standing from a lying-down position, like when I wake up from bed. That now requires some thought to minimize the strain.

The worst case scenario would be that I had slipped a disc. But in the doctor's professional opinion, my back injury is not that serious. More likely to be a sprain because the pain is not directly in the centre of my spine, and because I wasn't doing any heavy lifting when it happened. I got a prescription for a muscle relaxant, painkillers and anti-gastric pills to counter the painkiller's side effects. Need lots of home rest and fortunately (or unfortunately?) it's the December hols when I can rest up without guilt.

Speaking of injuries, it seems more kids are getting injured at play these days. How in the world can that be possible? As far as I have observed, our kids don't play. They aren't allowed to play because they have to be doing homework or 'mug' all the time. Our playgrounds are foam padded, the equipment plasticized with no sharp corners or hard edges. Toy safety regulations are paranoid, to say the least. Hmm... there may be one explanation: more parents are taking their kids for medical treatment over minor scrapes and bruises that in the past we kids just ignored and let heal on their own. These days, any abrasion would warrant an anti-tetanus jab. Parents.

Sore back

I promised myself it would never happen. I was always conscious to take care of myself, always being sure to bend at the knees when lifting heavy objects. Nevertheless, somehow I've thrown my back out. And I wasn't lifting anything.

It probably happened because of some uncomfortable sleeping or sitting position, causing a strain in my lower back which I felt as of yesterday. Didn't think much of it at the time, but today when I bent over to pick up Momo (I hadn't even touched her yet), I felt something give and I had to spend some minutes flat out on the floor hoping to straighten out my spine again.

Been in pain the rest of the day. In-laws were really nice. May brought dinner over 'cos I didn't feel well enough to walk, and Ling brought over a Salonpas muscle relief patch to ease me through my sleep.

Doubt it's the kind of pain that will just go away in a few days. Will seek medical attention in the morning.

TO alumni meet and feed

A day of catching up with friends from TO. Haven't seen Jon for ages. We missed him the last couple of times he's been back to visit, but couldn't pass up this opportunity to finally meet for lunch at least. Jon probably wasn't one of us who used to sing "Please don't send me to Africa", because that's where he worked as a missionary among the Xhosa for three years. Now that he's done with his adventures in the bush, he's returned to civilization with the lovely lady beside him and the wee bairn in arms. Shoutout to Cat and Sam too! Our schedules have been too crazy to meet properly this year(!) until today.

Dinner at Mary of the Angels. Jen invited us and Adrian to attend the Choice 29th Anniversary D&D. Quite a fun evening, opening with a dance-along to Wondergirls' "Nobody", and lots of great musical performances to keep us entertained through the evening. Plus a few table games too, the good thing being that it didn't matter if we didn't want to participate, but just focus on our food and conversation. We let the competitive ones at our table represent us, no pressure for the rest.

Anne's turn

'Tis the season for weddings. It was Anne's today at the illustrious St Iggy's. Compared to the uncomplicatedness of Lynette's, Anne's was a traditional Catholic mass with the full works, right down to the communion. Traditional has its own charm too.

Because of the time of year, I saw more students than staff in attendance. Shoutouts to Faith and Clara: so happy to see that my ex-Presidents are doing well for themselves. On the other hand, it's quite a downer that apart from Gerald and me, no one else from dNYel could attend. Ha. As soon as we are free from the fetters of the timetable, we're all out of town.

Aggregation, not aggravation

Went for some IT course on campus, not knowing who the instructor was going to be. I was under the impression that it was some vendor making a quick buck running courses for teachers on vacation. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the com lab a little bit tardy and met the Shambles guru himself, Chris Smith, face-to-face. Wow. If I had known earlier, I might have signed up for one or two other modules. This one, as it turned out, I was somewhat familiar with already.

The course was about using Internet apps "to save time", and most of the stuff he was showing us were things I am currently using, like subscribing to RSS via a reader or aggregator. From the the number of blogs I'm following, I always get to read the latest entries on a single page in my Google Reader. I get my fill of the most up-to-date web comics on PageFlakes. Yes, I suppose it would be more convenient to stick with one aggregator, but I find text works better on the former, while graphics stand out more via the more visually impactful layout of the latter. Of course, I didn't know what Chris was up to when he got us to sign up for a Netvibes account, so now I have another PageFlakes-like app with pretty much the same functions to play with.

What that all boils down to is that I don't have to go trawling laboriously through every single blog or other content provider looking for new and interesting stuff every day. All I do is subscribe to each site's RSS feed, and anytime the site gets updated I'll be notified via my Reader. So because stuff comes to me now, I need hunt and gather no longer. I have evolved.

Turning my personal fun and games into something useful for the classroom, RSS is also a great shortcut for monitoring each student's subject blog. Say I have about 70 kids to supervise, I'd go crazy clicking 70 blogs daily looking to see if they have done their homework. Instead, I open my Google Reader and only the blogs that have been updated show up automatically -- while the rest is silence. That's just one small example of what I can do with RSS to make my life easier.

What we are ultimately doing is managing information overload. I'm in the midst of learning how to do exactly that using the tools and the skills that allow me to access all the stuff I like to immerse myself with on the 'net -- that will hopefully aid me on my journey to become a better, smarter person. I'll have to figure it out fast, 'cos that'll be what we'll be teaching our kids from now on, and there's no better subject than GP to do it in.

Media balance

I am so glad the "MDA ensures 3,000 hours of wholesome TV content every year". At least the little kiddies' moral and social well-being has been properly taken care of. Goody for them.

But what about for me? Why is my TV still devoid of the remaining 5,760 hours of unwholesome content that they've promised? Fine, we have programmes like "Cosmo & George", "We are R.E.M.", "First Class" and "Polo Boys" but, please, could I have some quality unwholesome content too? :(

Revelling in the rot

These past few days have been ill-spent in indolence and self-absorption. Not doing anything to help humanity nor lifting a finger to save the world. The world can take care of itself for a spell, and no one said I was indispensable. So I've just been revelling in the rot, allowing the ol' brain to decay, letting everything go back to tending toward entropy. I'm tired of fighting, tired of thinking that I'm so important. I'm quite obviously so not. What I want is to continue spending the next few days content to nurse an icy umbrella drink in one hand while slumping comatose in a deck chair on a white-sand beach. No responsibilities, no obligations, it's all me-time.

I'm sure there's an off-button to the guilt, though. Don't just stand there -- help me find it!

Pole position

This FT debate is getting out of hand. This is surely the beginning of ethnic discrimination policies coming to pass. Look at this headline: "No poles for driving test". What? Anyone whose surname ends with _ski shouldn't drive, is that it?

Nice nuptials

Congrats to Lynette on the occasion of her wedding at The Fullerton! The ceremony opened in formal military style with the couple making their entrance under raised sabres. After a smartly efficient common law service, another little Miss of my acquaintance became a Missus. How quickly they grow up.

This is my table. As it turned out, I got to share it with Lynette's jie mei (bridesmaids). Yes, THE most in-demand table of all if I was a Wedding Crasher. Lynette was wise to put me and Josh (and Jenny and Gary) at this table 'cos since we're already married we would have no cause to accost the ladies or otherwise distract them from their MC duties. We did manage some polite small talk, so the table atmosphere was still quite warm and cordial throughout.

A pleasant, polite affair with everything running smoothly, on-time and according to plan. The experience Lynette gained planning this year's TD dinner must have helped her a lot in pulling today's event off without a hitch.

Ten years

June and I have been married exactly a decade as of today. We marked the date quietly. No big celebration, no big fuss, just a simple dinner at a restaurant we didn't even have to make reservations for. Dinner for two.

What was disturbing was on our way home, we walked past a couple who were not behaving as couples do, or even should. The girl was seated on the ground, nearly slumped over, back against a wall of a void deck of our neighbouring block. The guy was bent over her, hands at her throat. Clearly, they'd been fighting.

We stopped and made it clear that if anything untoward was to occur, we'd be on hand as witnesses. When they saw us just standing there watching everything, the guy acted like he was helping her stand up. But then she called out, "help me!" instead. So we both marched over to make sure she was all right. We weren't alone. Another fellow joined us, and together we put it in no uncertain terms that the guy's behaviour was unacceptable. June went so far as to make a 999 call, but at the girl's urging we did not press the matter.

After sorting things out between them (apparently alcohol and adrenaline do not a good cocktail make), we let the girl depart in one direction and made sure the guy left in the opposite direction. I doubt that would have been a long-term solution for the two, but at least I hope the guy will think twice about abusing his girlfriend again, knowing that the public will not stand for this sort of nonsense, and is willing to take serious action if he does.

There are things men do not do to women (or children, or animals) and it thoroughly pisses me off when I even hear reports of such things happening. To actually see such abuse with my own eyes, in my own backyard... dammit, we're supposed to be better than that.

Anyway, that was our 10th anniversary. An interesting present, then, from above.

I haven't the words

For the record, when I was in Pri 1 (a long, long time ago) I was asked to choose which language I wanted to take up as a second language. A second language was compulsory, being that a policy came down from on high that everyone should have a bilingual education.

In my own wisdom, I opted for Malay. As a six-year-old, I had it all figured out. I was already quite adept in reading and writing English; and Malay was taught using the exact same alphabet. I would have no trouble with the pronunciation of words and the grammatical structures didn't seem to differ much between the two. Malay was a simple substitution code for English, so learning Malay as a new language should have posed little difficulty for me. As a six-year-old I had a clear strategy: take Malay, ace the exams, no problem.

The Fates had other plans for me, though. I never made it to my first Malay lesson. I was literally Shanghaied off to study Chinese by certain elements that did not agree with my assessment of the situation. By the time I took my 'O's, the only thing I'd learned from Chinese class was that I wasn't as smart as I had once thought I was. I believe I wear those scars still.

The sad thing was that I had a choice, and I made a choice, but there's not much a six-year-old can do when his choice gets overruled by people who think they know better.

Fine. I suppose I was a nightmare to teach just as it was a nightmare language for me to learn. I was a rebel with a closed mind, fearful and suspicious of every teacher I had. I had horrid ones that threatened and actually hit students for whatever reason (I did mention this was a very long time ago, did I not?) but I had nice ones as well.

Regardless of teacher disposition, nothing helped. The most telling incident I can remember was when I scored an impressive near-80% on one test in Sec 3. I had a nice teacher then, and I remember putting full and total effort into memorising everything she wanted me to memorise. I wasn't disappointed with the test results. But I realised that all my efforts went into memorising something I had no recollection, no understanding of as soon as the test was over. The results would not have been duplicable on a retest. To me, that was just too much work for too little gain.

In any case, the way it was taught back then is not how people learn a language. It would probably have been very good practice for people who already knew the language to have a better, more in-depth appreciation of it. But for someone who was barely conversant in the first place... well, I don't quite have the words.

It's important that we can all express ourselves in more than one language, and yes, I do feel somewhat handicapped with my less-than-satisfactory command of Chinese today. But it's not too late to pick it up, even now. Chinese serials on TV with subtitles help with the conversational aspects which I can practice with other people should the need arise. But please, don't send me back to the classroom again.

Human road-kill

It's inevitable for people who drive that since they spend so much time on the road, at some point in time they will encounter some form of road-kill. Two legs poking out from under a white plastic sheet was what I saw today while on my way to work. There were cops standing around examining the scene, awaiting the clean-up crew to arrive.

Not hard to speculate what had just occurred: truck and motor-bike attempting to merge into one lane, inadvertently merging into each other instead. The operator of the smaller vehicle apparently did not survive the merger.

Motor-bikes are one of the road's most unpredictable factors. They're small and nimble, and appear and disappear off our scopes seemingly at random because they can get to places drivers don't expect to be looking at because no one in their right mind should be there at all. Often, as soon as I signal to change lane, a motor-bike a safe distance behind will suddenly accelerate to get in front of me and I'm forced back into the lane I attempted to leave. Bikers can be so irrational.

But I'm not here to rail at the idiocy of others; and I'm certainly not saying that that was what happened in this traffic fatality. We can't fix other people so let's just be more proactive about the things we can control. Drivers, signal early and check your blind spots always. And can we, like Canadians, give a car's length respect to the bike in front of us and not force them to squeeze in between cars because that's so dangerous? Yes, the idiots will do it anyway because they can, but teaching them a lesson by getting them killed is not an effective pedagogical strategy. Let's please try something else.

Mel's new place

Officially met the kids I'll be inheriting next year. A massive redeployment of staff means I'll remain in the 2nd year team and hence take over these classes from their original tutors whom they will lose in the reshuffle. Personally, I'd prefer to follow a batch through the two-year term; get to know my charges better that way. But I guess spending just one year with this group will have to suffice. In the half-hour allotted for our meeting and intro, we discussed a little theory and a little of my "pedagogical" philosophy. Hope I haven't already confused them too much. We have a whole year to look forward to together.

Pulled an extended duty for my last hall monitor slot. A sole candidate requiring a laptop to type his answers on. And with his splinted and bandaged index finger, he looked like he needed the extra 45 minutes which I couldn't begrudge him.

Dinner was at Mel's new place. A house-warming, of sorts, but mostly it was an opportunity for Mel to try out her new culinary skills on the rest of us. Recipes born in desperation from an imaginative mind to satisfy the need to eat. Been there before but really only learned to prepare eggs in one or two ways -- fry or boil -- and mostly surviving on instant noodles, and acquiring a taste for bagels and lox. For Mel, her experience taught her to cook not just for her own self-preservation but also for others to savour. Tonight's fusion-experimental dishes worked very nicely. My compliments to the chef!

Choice of company

It's been a week of alternating between official duties and exploring Ferelden, chasing every quest and sub-quest via my Warrior and her all-woman party. Freud might have something to say about my choice of adventuring company, but I just think it's more badass to have a bunch of girls kick macho male enemy butt. Besides, the male characters I could opt to play with have boring personalities. Two won't talk to me 'cos they're, like, strong silent types; one's a whiner; one's a sleazebag; and the last is a drunk who prefers to belch then fall down and mumble incoherently rather than have a proper conversation. Typical.

So, tonight's dinner with Jen put a temporary end to a week of partially self-imposed near social isolation from real people. Our dinner programme began at 1500 at her workplace where, in an effort to get ourselves at least contributing to society in some little way, we stuffed envelopes with appeal cards for pledges and donations to the organization she represents. We had lots of help: about 70 kids of mixed nationalities (someone remarked it was like the UN) had descended to tour the place, lend a hand with the mailers; and interact and play games with the residents.

In a sense, the residents were helping the visitors out more because the latter had to have some kind of community involvement as part of their training, and the former were happy to oblige. Anyway, we all worked furiously to prepare as many envelopes as possible for mailing. The kids were boisterous and playful, but still got the job done without too much distraction. And when everyone went outdoors to play, both residents and visitors clearly had great fun with each other. We old-timers stood on the sidelines, nodding sagely at the proceedings while ducking the occasional stray dodge ball carelessly cast in our general direction.

Later at dinner proper, it was finally down to Jen, June and me in serious conversation over nachos, salad and pasta. "Serious", as in the adult, mature sense rather than giggly hee hee ha ha sense. Basically just to catch up and see how we've been faring since we last met, oh... months ago.

I really need to get out more.

So slow!

Network seriously lagging at home. Web pages are taking, like, forever to load -- if at all. Hello...? Testing... testing...!

Edit 01:

Finally couldn't stand the lag and called Starhub's helpline. Very patient service as Technical Assistance talked me through the diagnostic procedure. Despite long pauses in between instructions as I connected and re-connected cables and waited for a test file to download, there was always a calm, reassuring voice at the other end of the line telling me the next step. And this was already close to midnight, mind you. Someone was available even past midnight to entertain my queries.

Didn't get immediate results, but the problem at some point seemed to correct itself. But they promised me they'll still keep looking into my original complaint so that it doesn't happen again.

Bouncing back and forth

Technically, I have not been compelled on pain of death to appear on campus on a daily basis while on exam duty. Nonetheless, it has been necessary to be on campus anyway because there's still work needing to be done, regardless. The year may be grinding to an end, but it hasn't ended yet; and there's the pre-flight checks and prep for next year as well. What? You think school "just happens"?

It makes a difference, though, when Management removes the "compulsory" label from the usual punch-in punch-out routine. It's a move that shows the value of trust over control; that we're there not because of someone else's say-so, but because we recognise that our responsibilities are indeed ours and so we do what we can to fulfil them.

Don't feel sorry for us if you see us bouncing back and forth between our campus and the exam venue (which is on some other campus). We're ok with that, really.

The show goes on

Negotiations for a new instructor for NYeDC went well. Met prospectives at Sleek Espresso Bar over tea and cake, and it's great to see a familiar face whom I'll get to work with again. Also, we have been commissioned to work on comedy next year, taking a much needed break from the hyper-emo stuff that Drama Night has come to be identified with.

I think we've got the right people to put together a great show with lots of laughs. We'll be banking on our new instructors' forte in physical theatre, and we'll have still have Tina as overall QC. Now to find a suitable script and get the show on the road in six months.

... no pressure.

The end is here

The old morality conundrum about who deserves to live or die from among a crowd in a lifeboat cast adrift with limited resources plays out in "2012". Out of 6 billion people, only 400k can be saved, so who gets to go on board before the grand extinction event occurs?

When it all comes down to it, humanity is but a representative mix of people of different abilities and talents. The smart, the rich, the artistic, the organizers and planners, and the determined with the chutzpah to match. Framing this cross-section of personalities are cold practicality that makes the toughest of decisions and compassion, yin and yang in perfect balance. It may not be entirely realistic, but it makes for satisfying storytelling anyway.

We also get to see how people will do whatever it takes to ensure the children are the first to be rescued. Self-sacrificial acts abound, though sometimes the choice is only between a rock and a hard place. And often, there is no chance at all. It wouldn't be a disaster movie otherwise, and in this one, there is no stopping the destruction of ol' dependable terra firma itself in its entirety.

The destruction on screen is at a scale never seen before in special effects. The magnitude is truly awesome as the earth's crust breaks apart in city-block sized chunks. It's a jaw-gaping spectacle as a tsunami engulfs the Himalayan mountain range and washes away a whole monastery perched on one of the higher tips. The whole effect plays on our sense of scale such that a whole building or structure that looks imposing close-up is a mere insignificant speck at a great distance away, and that distance is required to view the devastation Armageddon brings.

But placing the camera at this distance would not cause us to care what was happening if we didn't have Jackson and his slightly dysfunctional family to root for. This was the fatal flaw in "The Day after Tomorrow" in which the plot was too tightly focused on the fortunes of just one family group, but thankfully, there are lots more story threads and lots more points of view to observe in 2012. And miraculously, the loose ends do tie up at the end quite neatly so happy ending after all, such as the circumstances allow.

A grand set

I don't mind adding my endorsement of Flamingg Mangos' set lunch deal. Prices range from $11.90 to $16.90 per set. For the $16.90 set, the starter is either a salad or sup du jour and a complementary chunk of garlic bread per set ordered.

June ordered the half-slab pork back ribs and I had the mixed grill comprising lamb, grilled dory coated over with a thick layer of Hollandaise sauce and two chix franks. Both plates were generously loaded with nice, big portions of meat and side salad. Since the main dish already comes with its own salad, it makes sense to order the soup to start.

Dessert was a large brownie square, soft and moist, packed with walnuts, topped with warm fudge AND served a la mode -- choice of choc, vanilla or strawberry.

Free-flow ice-cold water was on the house. Service, as always, was attentive and friendly.

And one more plus point: no discrimination against Q-tip or her species. :)

That was brunch. It's way past dinner time now, but we're still so full I think the next time we see food will be breakfast tomorrow morning.

Oh, in case MDA is reading, I paid in full for both sets. Happy?

Hall monitor elite

Going from one week non-stop talking to kids in consults to talking with nobody while on hall monitor duty (and nobody after) is quite a shock to the system. Before: brain furiously active, improvising responses to difficult questions on the spot without skipping a beat. After: Almost total brain shut down, performing the highly essential task of making one's presence felt in the exam hall, while in reality merely functioning as a dispenser of paper and watching the digital clock counting life away. The idle mind is a philosophical mind.

Or keeping tabs on toilet breaks. It's amazing how popular the toilet is during a three-hour paper. There's a constant flow of kids (mostly boys, oddly enough) who need to "get up and go", more this year than in any other I've ever encountered. Guess we'll be instituting some kind of bladder training as an essential exam skill when word gets around.

Anyway, I may be a disgruntled hall monitor this year because I think the rotations could be more even. Yes, I'm sympathetic to the headache that comes with scheduling monitors with papers with venues, and it's a nightmare and all, but sticking one 'elite' group with all the big papers is a little too convenient and presumes that we don't notice -- and even if we did, we don't mind. As one of the 'elite', though I can't speak for the others, I will say for the record, I do and I do.

Two... more... weeks...!

"Dragon Age: Origins" first impressions

Traded up from RPG-lite to full blown RPG with "Dragon Age: Origins". Bioware has put in a massive storyline including different beginning stories to play through depending on which species (human, elf or dwarf) has been picked as the main character.

Did I mention the game is huge? As it is, so much detail and melodrama has gone into the prologue which, as all good RPGs should, is a tutorial of the game mechanics such as inventory-keeping, party combat, and character equipping and building.

No auto-builds here -- each party member is individually customizable to suit the player's preferred play style. A mix of ranged, magic and melee attacks and defences are needed to build a team that can survive the enemy hoards, and though it's necessary to micromanage everything, the multiplicity of decisions you have to make at every level-up can be tedious and frustrating when you realize you've chosen badly with no take-backs.

Combat is tough, especially since I have yet to master tactical control over the party. People tend to get killed off-screen while I'm busy with a swarm of nasties on my end; so now I've gone back to my tried-and-tested technique: position ranged attackers, then draw small groups of enemy into the kill-zone, chipping away at them bit by bit until victory. Wading into the crowd like a tank is suicide, but the game would go a lot faster if that were possible.

My rig is, however, giving a lot of serious lag problems, with the game playing like a slide-show when there's lots of movement on-screen. I have better than recommended specs, so there's something obviously wrong with my config. It's still a problem even on the lowest graphics settings, so how to fix? Grumble, grumble...

Anyway, only played through the prologue and ventured some ways into the main story so far. So interesting to eavesdrop on side-conversations between party members as we run across the map. Depending on their attitudes towards each other, they bicker, gripe or whine at each other on the hoof (yeah, my team has teamwork issues). That's the level of detail I've uncovered so far. And that's not including the downloadable content (DLC) yet. Did I mention this game is huge? And with DLC, it'll just keep growing.

Game bugs? I think I encountered one the first time I encountered an ogre. He was killing my team with ease, until he must have got bored. On my last reload, he just stood there and took all the puny punishment my team could dish out without retaliating, then finally worn out, he keeled over and obligingly died. Was that a bug? Or is there a built-in in-game fail-safe for players who are pathetic losers like me? Must keep playing to see if it happens again.

Edit 01:

Oops... there is indeed an auto-build function for lazy gamers. It's in the Character Records screen.

Edit 02:

I seem to have fixed the lag problem. Updated drivers for my RealTek audio. Should have guessed 'cos the dialogue was stuttery at times. Game works brilliantly, now. :)

3D magic in Coraline

Watched "Coraline" in 3D. I'd already read the book, so there weren't that many surprises in the movie. Coraline's dad is slightly more fleshed out, perhaps, and there's the addition of Wybie, to whom Coraline can dialogue with otherwise she'll spend most of her on-screen time soliloquizing -- which would be practically the whole movie.

Yes, Coraline is lonely. Nobody pays much attention to her 'cos they're busy with work. Or they're partway off their rockers already. No one listens to her, much less get her name right (it's "Coraline," not "Caroline!"). She's left her friends behind to settle in a house isolated from civilization, and quickly falls prey to ennui. When she discovers an alternate reality in which all her wishes come true, where everything and everyone seems to exist for her pleasure alone, it's almost too good to be true.

I'm no book purist, so it's wonderful to see Gaiman's text come to life in 3D stop-motion animation. The story I already know. What I marvel at is the storytelling technique which is intricate in detail and so painstaking to put together. The 3D effects are a costly extravagance, but it does add to the magic of the experience.

If there's a moral to this story, I suppose it's that Coraline learns to accept people the way they are in reality, flawed as they may be. She realizes that if they simply conformed to her idealized version of how they "should" be, she might as well be wearing buttons in place of her eyes. And if everyone and everything revolved around just her alone, what a small world it would be to live in.

Smooth delivery

Today's NLB book run took us East when usually we get dispatched West. The first recipient was a congenial, elderly fellow who spoke Mandarin. Fortunately, I had June with me to translate and complete the admin which involved checking the inventory of books received and returned, and signing off in the appropriate space provided.

The second was a nice elderly lady who lived in a huge piece of landed property, beautifully done up resort-style. The help packed in the big guard dog but we got to introduce ourselves to the little pomeranian who lived indoors. Here we had another smooth delivery, and for our pains she gave us some ice-cold chrysanthemum tea, a box of Rocher, and a 'thank you' card. The card we'll forward to the NLB folks in charge of us volunteers, the chocs... well, we'll leave our options open.

Good run today. Lunch at No. 49 Katong Laksa to reward ourselves for a job well done.

Welcome to the next level

We're making serious efforts to get our names immortalized on Sunset's illustrious wall of flame. This evening we brought our secret weapon, Josh, along. Plus, June's been 'training' in BKK the past week, so our little group felt quite ready to tackle... level 10. 10 is significant because it is the last level officially listed on the menu. Anything beyond 10 and, hey, it's your own lookout, buddy.

At level 10, chix wings are no longer to be considered food. It's neither tasty nor pleasant, and unlikely to be nutritious after such treatment. The regular flavour of chicken is all but replaced by the sensation of burning. The only reason to eat anything above 10 is the challenge of enduring pain and only to be undertaken at double dare conditions at least.

The immediate effect is blood, sweat and tears. Sweat and tears mingle on the face like it's been buffeted around in a tropical monsoon. Blood is from internal haemorrhaging, or that's what it feels like, anyway. It's a personal challenge because no one at our table will congratulate such reckless behaviour. No one is impressed by such displays of masochistic tendencies. No one but yourself.

The good thing about the hot sauce Sunset uses is that it doesn't stick to the fingers after a good wash. Contact lens users don't have to worry about experiencing level 10 in the eyes which even you couldn't admire yourself for. The burning sensation around the mouth likewise doesn't last. It'll sting for about 20 minutes after wing consumption and though it may not be forgotten, it's gone. Then you might actually consider reaching for another wing, if your friends haven't eaten them all.

Level 30 looks to be still distant on the horizon, but we're making progress.

Hail Godzilla!

Hideki Matsui: 2-run homer, 2-run single, 2-run double; total of 6 RBIs to seal an amazing 27th World Series for the Yanks. I should have taken the day off to watch this historically memorable game 'live' on MLB.com 'cos watching the newsreels and highlights, I got only a hint of the nail-biting excitement over at Yankee Stadium earlier this morning.

Imported directly from Japan, "Godzilla" Matsui doesn't speak English -- he has a translator for his interview on national TV about his MVP award. NY sure knows how to co-opt their foreign talent, not shy to claim victory off the back of a not-born-in-America Japanese.

So why do we have so much hand-wringing over our own FTs? Could it be that despite our cosmopolitan aspirations, we really are a small town at heart?

Cutesy heroes

Marvel's got this new animated series, "Super Hero Squad" (sample video here). It's obviously targeted at the much younger set with its cutesy portrayal of our favourite Marvel mainstays rendered in the proportion of children: that is, oversized heads and extremities on tiny bodies. And they have childlike personalities to match. So I should have known better when I picked up the Wii game of the same title that I'd be getting a product that wasn't quite designed for my venerable demographic.

Don't get me wrong, I'm much taken by the premise and the characters. It's reminiscent of how kids would co-opt the superhero concept and play out their own superhero scenarios with their ridiculous and nonsensical storylines, while exaggerating their characters to the nth degree. In the game (as is presumably in the series) the children at play are versatile and talented voice-acting pros like Charlie Adler (Cow & Chicken), Tom Kenny (Mr S Squarepants, esq.), and Tara Strong (PPG's Bubbles, and a vast range of other animated characters). In their SHS incarnation, Thor is pompous and bombastic; Cap Am is more patronizing than patriotic; Silver Surfer is a philosophising surfer dude; and Doc Doom is as inept as he is maniacal. It all makes for a rib-tickling, madcap adventure to play through.

The Wii SHS is a simplistic beat-'em-up with elements of an adventure platformer as well as an arena for a tournament-style punch-up. By playing through the adventure mode (either solo or co-op) we gain points to unlock new characters and arenas for battle mode. Um, that's essentially it.

Adventure mode is a button-mash with the occasional controller flick to pull off special moves. We mash our way through a maze, punching or blasting hoards of goons and navigating annoying jumping puzzles until the end level boss battle which takes place arena style. Battle mode basically plays by sumo wrestling rules: either wear down your opponent or toss his a** out of the ring. In adventure mode, we do either 10 times to beat the boss -- before he does unto you the same. Full battle mode dispenses with all pretence of a story and pits your choice of heroes and villains against each other in team or solo combinations.

The game isn't any more complex than that. I guess I could entertain a certain someone below 10 a whole afternoon with SHS, but there isn't much else there to sustain my interest after the first run-through in adventure mode. It's cute, it's funny, it's another perspective of the Marvel Universe that doesn't take itself too seriously. It's got strong production values, but I found gameplay rather less than satisfactory. I should just have waited for the animated DVD box set to get my SHS fix.

What a frog wants

The good news is that my voice is coming back. I may still be coughing like a nicotine addict on cold turkey, but there is volume when I crank my amps up, and I am able to reach the higher notes once again while bathroom singing.

As for the frog in my throat, I've decided to just give it what it wants until it goes away. It wants water, in much greater quantity than I've ever felt the need. What I didn't realize in the last couple of weeks consulting was that such an unaccustomed increase in free talk-time requires a corresponding increase of fluid intake to sufficiently lubricate the vocal chords. So, I haven't been drinking enough and I dried up, figuratively and literally.

Today, I've been lubing up with unchilled Pink Dolphin, some kind of mineral water with a mild peach flavour that the canteen sells. Oh, I see... it's got added vitamins for a healthier kick too. No wonder the price was a bit steep.

Yes, I know. I would have avoided all this trouble if I had listened to all the "drink more water" advice from friends in the first place. For the rest of this remaining week, me and my Pink Dolphin will be inseparable.

Puppy love

Some days, we just have to admire the tenacity of the bond between dog lovers and their dogs. Q-tip has done a massive purge in the bathroom AND the bedroom. While I was surveying the damage, Mimi, prevented from reaching the tray by the mess, promptly peed in the kitchen.

Pardon me while I go fetch the mop. My tears are forming a little puddle on the laminate floor.

A ball of string looks at another

Everything is string. I spent an afternoon examining plasticized human remains and concluded that we are held together by string, we move through and interact with our environment by precisely manipulating string, and we are entirely composed of string: a sentient winding of bundled knots and fibres. We're essentially a rag-doll puppet moving on its own power.

Of course, there's different kinds of string -- different textures, different elasticities, different compositions even. Nerve fibre is different from tendon, which is different from veins and capillaries, which is different from muscle tissue, which is different from bone matter... but however you look at it, it's all just string.

The idea is mildly unsettling. We think of ourselves as more than just cables and wiring all twisted together, but that's all that remains of us when the spark of life has left the body. These bodies have been lovingly and carefully preserved and sculpted by the exhibitors so we, the living, can see ourselves in these frozen, exploded images and marvel at the "piece of work that is a man" -- before walking out the front door looking to stuff ourselves with more junk food, indulge in more bad habits that will undoubtedly hasten our own impending necrosis in the days to come.

I admit, it got to me. Side by side with healthy specimens were also diseased ones to show how their donors probably met their ends. There were aneurysms; cancers; tar-blackened lungs; fatty-smooth, engorged livers; shrunken, overworked kidneys; a heart enlarged by stress and strain; and a couple of genetic abnormalities too. All the time I was wondering if the donors could see themselves inside-out as we can them now, would they have changed their habits, their diets or addictions in exchange for a few more years of life?

Am I going to change mine? This twist of string, yarn, twine, fibre, tubing, wire all compactly woven into the thing that is me could perhaps do with some slightly healthier habits. Starting tomorrow.

Body Worlds is at the Singapore Science Centre until March 2010, in case any other woolly tangle of string is interested to go see.

Careful, she bites!

Happy Halloween! In keeping with tradition, a horror movie was on the cards. And since I've been left to my own devices (wife and in-laws are in BKK), my pick flick was "Jennifer's Body". Might as well be as no one I know would watch it with me.

Megan Fox plays a nasty, evil carnivore looking to spill blood and gore as she feasts on human entrails. But all that's just metaphorical as the movie focuses on her BFF, "Needy", and all the fears and insecurities of a teenage girl growing up.

Best friends are forever, right? But what if your best friend turned into a monster overnight? What if your best friend starts behaving in ways your mother told you never to? What if she makes it a point to steal your boyfriend and other boys that show an interest in you?

For the boys, there's always the fear that if an attractive girl shows interest in you, it must be too good to be true. And many times, it is. At the back of your mind, you know that all she wants is a piece of you -- and in Jennifer's case, lots of pieces. It's the fear of the male black widow spider; the male preying mantis; egged on by the need to fertilize, yet helpless to change his fate.

And remember mother's advice about never getting into a strange van with strange boys? Yep, that's what kicks off this gruesome morality play in the first place. Jennifer is never quite the same after that night.

"Jennifer's Body" is horror in the category of teenager vs monster with superpowers. More thrill than chill, really. What's interesting is that the fears are both common and real, though we don't usually think of them as particularly monstrous. They are fears we eventually outgrow, but to a teenager experiencing them, it sometimes does feel like something's eating away at one's insides. Her name, we know now, is Jennifer.

The tadpole has blossomed

Completed a marathon week of consults with the kids. Never talked so much in all my life. Every consult, whether small group or lone student seems to go by so quickly. Before I know it, the next consult has arrived and awaits my attention. This goes on pretty much the whole day, with a break for some lunch in between.

I'm actually having fun 'cos as I go over questions I keep unearthing new ideas while I practice sharing them with the kids in terms they can understand. It's great when they do, but when they don't, it's an opportunity to try harder and come up with some kind of explanation, even an analogy, that does work.

Like this one consult who wrote a generally decent enough essay including a point on how international cooperation is increasing in the area of environmental conservation. Then he promptly followed up with an example: the failure of the Kyoto Protocol in getting the USA to ratify the agreement. O_o I asked him why he produced this piece of evidence, he said it was an example he recalled from his revision notes. Every claim must have an example and this was an example, was it not?

Indeed, it was an example. But it's like a defence attorney asserting that the defendant did not commit the murder, and here's the bloody dagger with his fingerprints all over the handle to prove it.

That's the danger of blindly applying formula, doing things because one must because it is integral to the formula, rather than for a reason and a purpose towards developing a logical argument. I believe he got my point, and hopefully he won't make the same mistake again.

Anyway, I didn't mean to relate that story. What I did want to say is that after a week of near non-stop talk for hours on end, the tadpole from last week has blossomed into a full-blown bullfrog in my throat. Henceforth I shall be known as the Hoarse Whisperer. I'm taking a vow of silence to last me through the weekend. Maybe the rest will restore my golden honeyed tones once again, allowing me to survive one last (packed) week of consults before (finally) the Finals.

Nerdy English teacher

Just kicking back and playing with the Times Online Spelling Bee training games. That's so uncool in a nerdy English teacher kind of way.

Maybe I should recommend the URL to my kids in case they need to take an educational break from their preparations for their finals? Sure,why not? And while I'm at it, I should wipe off the smears on my glasses and replace the pencil that's fallen out of my pocket protector too.

Sorry, what? Oh, A-P-O-G-E-E....

We won? Wha...?

I am in shock. Despite my spectacular FAIL-ed presentation on Monday, we still came up tops in the final vote tally. That'll teach me to think that I alone carried the hopes and dreams of the team, and that my failure amounted to the group's failure. All in all, it was the strength of the team and our collective efforts that carried the vote and earned the recognition, not the flash and splash (and crash) of the presentation that followed.

Though I wouldn't underestimate the power of the sympathy vote, I am truly humbled by this odd turn of events. Thank you, team; and thank you, voters!

Culture of excess

Funny that I was just discussing with the kids the concept of our "culture of excess", and this evening when I watched "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" with the usual bunch of delinquents, there was a movie that embodied the implications of such a culture and its terrible impact on us if we can't find an "off" switch to hit, and quickly too.

Our culture of excess is the result of our success at turning every natural resource available into food or other consumables for our convenience. Like the food making machine in "Meatballs", our own industrial processes have gone into overdrive, cranking out more, bigger, better(?)... things, and as fast as they can crank, we likewise guzzle, utilize and (up)chuck, like we were in a race to see who would break down and give up first.

At first, it's all good. People need food to live and to have a constant supply of food might well be like it all just fell from the sky. But the more people get, the more people want until the whole system is all about providing more than is possible to want, without heed to the consequences. That is, until disaster strikes then we do what we do best -- survive, and learn from the experience.

But instead of being preachy, "Meatballs" provides a such banquet of laughs and gags that the idea and need for social responsibility over indiscriminate consumption is easy to swallow.

The goat

Sometimes, you get a crazy idea and you run with it like a baton in the 4x100m. You think that's the innovation that's going to win it for the team and you get carried away with the euphoria of being the hero for once. Then next thing you know, you've tripped over your own feet and you're face-down in the mud. Once again, as always, the goat.

But my friends are the understanding sort. They entertain, even encourage my crazy ideas even though that usually results in a downward-spiralling pyre of disaster. And if I crash and burn, well, it was a high-risk, high-return play that didn't pan out the way we'd hoped. Oh, well.

After so many disappointments, hope they'll still have faith in me and my crazy ideas. Some day, I'm gonna get it right.

X-species oral interfacing

As a pet owner, do I kiss my pets on the mouth? Some pet owners do, apparently, and Ronnie Lim opens up on his fears that doing so may cause diseases to jump between dog and his best friend as a result. That's just paranoia and sensationalizing his point. There is a much greater likelihood of people passing on diseases to other people through a face-to-face liplock than some exotic new infection blossoming between the species. And even then, we're not going to stop people from snogging each other, are we?

There's a simpler reason for not kissing pets on the mouth. One word answer: Yuck! Two word answer: That's gross! Q-tip's a sweet little thing, but her dogbreath would corrode galvanized sheet metal. And no way I'm kissing my cats on the mouth. I have no desire to go to the hospital and have them surgically removed from my face for no good reason. Not that there is a good reason for that -- ever.

So, Ronnie, as far as I can tell, too few of us are into French-ing our poodles to storm the Bastille over the issue. Thanks for overreacting.

GP has a gender -- she's female

I am going to start thinking about GP essay questions as if they had been asked by women. I hear tell when women ask questions, they aren't looking for answers. Neither are they looking for solutions. Try give a woman a solution and at best it's irrelevant, at worst it's just wrong. Then she'll cry and become completely incomprehensible. Where and how the 'F' grade came about, we'll never know after that.

No. If a woman asks a question, it's because there's something on her mind that she wants to discuss. She may not be entirely clear what it is exactly, but that's why she needs someone to talk to while she she sorts out her own mind about it. Most importantly, she just wants to be heard, preferably understood and above all, respected for her position on the issue.

When attempting GP essays, the kids tend to behave like a man dealing with a woman's question. Get to the point, solve the problem, bada boom, bada bing, pass the beer, we're outta here. Handle a woman like that and it's the couch for you tonight, buddy. You'll be lucky to have a blanket keep you company while you shiver in the dark.

A GP essay is not an answer, and it definitely is not a solution. It is the question itself -- expanded through the gentle teasing out and exploration of its inherent nuances and issues, insecurities and complexities as it ponders the validity of its own biases.

The essay therefore behaves more like the listening ear of a sympathetic confidante than Mr Fixit with a Stanley toolbelt. There's a lot of "do you mean...?", "I recognise...", "I identify with...", "I understand where you're coming from because...", but of course in less informal conversational language. She wants to know your position on the issue, though she is not threatened if you have an opposing opinion from her's (she's a woman -- your opinions, however interesting, are still wrong) but in the grand scheme of things, all she wants is to have her views aired, discussed, evaluated in a non-judgemental way and, as the really wise man already knows, the conclusion is hers to make though he may have gently led her there through the discussion.

Like a question from GP, when a woman asks a question, it's an invitation to a conversation, so engage her, even indulge her, at the intellectual level. Do not offer her a screw from the Fixit toolbelt as is our usual knee-jerk reaction... though she could be more receptive later, when she's in a better mood.

Silenced

I have suddenly, inexplicably and literally lost my voice. Woke up yesterday with a bad throat, but thought it would subside as the day went on. Didn't happen. Thought I would sleep it off last night. Didn't happen either.

Fortunately, the medical prognosis seems optimistic. My meds are just a throat spray (minty!) and a course of antibiotics for the inflammation. The bigger worry is how to resume consulting kids without aggravating my current condition?

Well, let's see if one more night's sleep will do the trick.

KOREF, Day 2

A bit late for sunrise, but Jojo leads us in a session of sun salutations to greet the new day.

Since we're on an organic rice farm every meal is based around, you guessed it, organic brown rice. We're looking at brown nasi lemak for brekkie which was quite good especially with the sweet but totally non-lethal Level 1/2 sambal chilli. Fresh food is always nice, but I still have yet to acquire a taste for brown rice, unfortunately.

Modern rice farming techniques have dispensed with little old ladies beating the heck out of rice sheaves to extract rice grains. Here we have a threshing machine operated by a guy sitting on top (not shown in pix) while the de-husked rice grains fill the sack below.

Secret of eco farming: many of the farmhands are short-term international volunteers who basically work for board and lodging, having eschewed the decadence of modern living, and who are in their own way doing their bit to advance the cause of responsible, eco-friendly food production methods.

After a briefing on how to operate a sickle, we're sent off to the fields to harvest rice. It would probably have been back-breaking work if we had put our heart and soul into it, but we were mugging for the camera most of the time while enjoying the mud spa that we'd been sunk to our knees in. That was one muddy field. Heh, typical tourists.

Bonus: a chance to observe a sweet potato harvest as well. These were also organically grown and there were some whoppers that got dug up -- bigger than anything I've ever seen at our local markets. The champ was a monster that tipped the scale at 13kg.

Our last stop before arriving back home was a Malaccan dessert place in Kluang. We hadn't had anything this ice-cold for the last couple of days and this was a seriously welcome treat. The cendol was sticky, molasses-sweet, not overpowering with the lemak (coconut milk) flavour and most importantly, refreshing. Next stop: home.

Great little weekend getaway, though city-boy that I am, I doubt I could stay sane there for too long, starved of electronic entertainment. Nevertheless, it was fun to be out in the sunshine and physically interact with the environment: touching things, getting dirty, entertaining the possibility of encountering some unfamiliar, potentially dangerous critter residing in the murky, muddy depths... but nothing like that did actually show up.

Must thank Jojo for organizing this little trip. The company may not have been familiar, but proved to be quite comfortable and entertaining in their own way, anyway.

Lots more pix: click here.

KOREF, Day 1

This is the party that finally made it to KOREF (Kahang Organic Rice Eco Farm). We've got reps from across the depts: English, Chinese, PE, Bio, Chem. Definitely not the usual suspects.

First thing after lunch was a river trek. Initially, I thought we would be walking ALONG the river, not IN it. Here, the main party gets stuck in shin-deep mud. Our party is following immediately behind them.

We get separated from the main body as June lost one of her Crocs in the mud. After much blind digging around, churning up handfuls of clay and rocks I finally grab a rubbery substance and pull it to the surface. June is relieved to have a reunification. Jojo and Derek remained behind with us to help search, and eventually the four of us caught up with the main body at the end of the trail.

The river trek (which is best negotiated sans footwear because of the clingy mud) is hell on bare feet with lots of unseen pokey bits, slippery surfaces and lots of opportunities for toe stubbing. Expect extreme exfoliation and slight bruising of the feet from the experience. But OMG, the walk was tres fun not in spite of the danger but BECAUSE of it. We were really on our own to test our footing and help each other along with verbal warnings and outstretched hands for mutual support and balance. Quite the bonding session for us two couples. Oh, this here is the end point, the estuary where we eventually rendezvoused with the main body. Everyone was happily splashing around and having a cool, soaking wet ball of a time.

Back on the farm, we braved the ropes confidence course strung up over the recreational pond. Lots of challenges that tested our balance or face the consequences of landing in the drink. Overhead, storm clouds were brewing...

Inexplicably, the storm that was threatening to wash out our afternoon only resulted in this gorgeous rainbow that stretched across the sky.

The rec pond was great for messing about in boats -- and bamboo rafts.

This was supposed to be our BBQ campfire. But we knew only so many war songs and tribal dances that hitting the sack early was our next best option. We chose #2.

Lots more pix: click here.

Premature graduation

Said our official goodbyes to our 08' JC2s in a little ceremony that comprised mostly nostalgic yet inspirational speeches and well wishes for the future. The latter included a collection of largely self-deprecating video postcards created by the various IP departments just to send the kids off with a smile and a wave.

In truth, I will miss my earnest 06, my giggly 23 and my bewildered 17. We still have a few more weeks to go before the finals, so I don't really have to let go of you yet. Daily consultation slots will remain open as long as you want them.

Must thank 06 for the hand-crafted book of personal well-wishes for me. I enjoyed reading all your positive reinforcement and was amazed by the effort you put into the presentation.

Meantime, I'm heading out-of-town north over the long weekend. Time to reconnect with the wilderness; to commune with nature; to slow down our pace of life -- far from the maddening crowd. Where I'm going, there's not likely to be broadband so I doubt I'll be updating for a couple of days. Hopefully, when I return here I'll have some colourful pix to brighten up all this drab text. Cya!

Not a level field

Study all you want. Ace the 'A's and aim for a place at the U. But apart from attaining a glowing transcript, there's still one little hurdle to conquer -- the university interview. Here's where we separate the merely studious from the true survivors of the kind of cranial gymnastics a good university education should encompass.

The latter are the ones who appreciate that curriculum content amounts to a sum total of zero at this level of study and hence do not rely on it exclusively to get by. The true survivor knows that context is everything. Context gives content meaning and application. Context stretches content and makes connections with other content regardless of subject area. Muggers, therefore, focused as they are on learning by the book don't usually have a very good time at the U. There are simply too many books to learn in the library.

We've heard that at the university interview, we get asked strange questions that don't seem to relate to the subject of the course we are applying for. That's because grades alone are insufficient to assess the capabilities of applicants. Two candidates with exactly the same top grades competing for a place at the U are not necessarily playing on a level field. The one who is able to process and contextualise content will always have the advantage over the one who can merely retrieve it.

Oxbridge has released some of these odd interview questions and some successful candidates' responses to them. Don't bother learning the answers 'cos I'm sure the questions won't always be the same. Just get your nose out of your book and open your eyes to the world.

Swift action

When Gov Schwarzenegger says he will take 'swift action' on an issue, he doesn't kid around. When pix of his Missus caught in the act of driving while chatting on her cell phone (made illegal in California by his own personal autograph) surfaced on a celeb gossip site, that's what he promised. On the exact same day, the Gov made good on his promise. Rest assured, with his fine solution, that transgression will NEVER happen again.

The last 100m

Education is one of the last industries that follows a seasonal schedule. Today, I've delivered my last lecture for the year. As the kids are preparing for their finals, our attention goes towards personal and small group consultations. Time to focus on specific kids targeting their specific problems in the subject and helping them deal with it. I'm busier than ever now that I have to entertain individual students, but this really is the best kind of teaching; directed, focused, customized... and appreciated.

Clear and conspicuous

Not sure what hold the US FTC has over our MDA, but it seems we S'porean bloggers likewise will have to come clean and "make clear and conspicuous disclosures" of any rewards we might have received for endorsing products or services in our blogs.

Not sure which consumers make their purchasing decisions based on a single blogger's opinion of a consumable item, but we do have a civic and moral duty to protect the uncritical buyer from biased reviews.

So I'll pre-empt the imminent legislation and hereby clearly and conspicuously disclose that I have not received any rewards whatsoever from any producer or distributor of any of the consumables I have reviewed to date. In fact, keeping this blog has yielded neither financial nor in-kind benefits of any sort for me, but instead is sending me to the poor-house for buying with my own money a whole bunch of stuff to review just for the heck of it.

If not for my predilection towards hearing the sound of my own waffle, and for the grand total of roughly three (3) daily readers who have sustained me over five (5) years of postings, I'd say blogging is as un-rewarding an activity as it gets, contrary to what the FTC-MDA collective might think.

Loss leader

Where in this economy of rising prices can we find any product or service the price of which has reduced? Believe it or not, my usual $4.80 haircut cost me $2.80 when I went for my quarterly shearing yesterday. Where the place? Snip Avenue, 418 Yishun.

Service was brusque but that's the way I like it. I was there for a haircut, not chit-chat. I got what I asked for, and for what I paid that was more than satisfactory.

Chances are, they're using this pricing model as a loss leader. It'll entice clients who want more than just a haircut and from there they'll start the real commercial negotiations. But they're happy to take in cheapos like me too because at least I represent a bum on a seat in between the real customers. Win already!

When 100% is not enough

If we accept the theory of evolution as true, then S'poreans deserve to be the first species to go extinct.

Look at the fuss and furore over this year's PSLE math paper. Kids are crying, and parents of kids who are crying are "up in arms" and threatening to storm Castle FrankenMOE with torches and pitchforks. What monstrosity has arisen out of the beleaguered castle this time? Only the hideous spectre of an exam that was difficult to score 100% in.

And why do I assess the local citizenry to be deserving of extinction? It's because we've proven yet again (as we did two years ago) that we're too easily satisfied, too complacent in thinking that 100% = everything. That kind of thinking is what's going to kill us all.

There are certain assumptions that go with a score of 100% in a written exam. 1) It means having studied all there is to learn of the subject. 2) It means all conditions played out to one's best advantage in order for every problem to be solved within the time limit.

The first assumption cannot be true because knowledge is too infinite to confine within the limited scope of a curriculum of study. 100% therefore means we're satisfied with what we know, and there's nothing more to learn.

As for the second assumption, perfect results means perfect conditions, and perfect conditions seldom occur in real life. In truth, perfect conditions usually occur when we lower the bar of our expectations and accept fudged standards as "good enough".

Always gunning for 100% is dangerously closed-minded, especially for kids aspiring to pursue further education in Math and the Sciences. 100% is good enough for lab techs and test-tube washers (do what you're told -- get 100% every time!), but unacceptable to leading edge researchers who are constantly working to devise new methods to learn more about our universe. Trial and Error. The journey, not the destination.

We cannot afford to breed a generation of children who think 100% is an end in itself. Going by their response, parents aren't helping here. This fixation is a mental rot that will translate into their children's lives, making them unable to cope with the need to think and read beyond their curriculum, the need to sometimes reach beyond our perceptions of "necessary" and "possible" in order to create and maintain this "knowledge economy" we are struggling to remake ourselves into.

It's not the kids who aren't scoring 100% anyway that I'm worried about, but the ones that are and are now viewing themselves as failures because for them only 100% will do. Unfortunately, they're to ones who represent our best and brightest, and if their minds remain trapped in the 100% box, I shudder for the rest of us who will fall under their leadership one day. Most likely, it'll be their parents who will be making their decisions and wiping their noses for them at the same time. A recipe for disaster, if I ever saw one.

Please, don't be content with a hundred per cent. Rather, score below and work for mo' (or MOE! Heh.)

Pain in a bottle

At Sunset:

Our table: half-dozen buffalo wings, Level 5.

Immediate neighbouring table: half-dozen buffalo wings, Level 30!

Ok, I'm not sure how Sunset's Levels compare with the official Scoville-scale that runs into the millions of units, but To*ny was already being (as Wayne described) "dramatic" over his Level 5 wing. At the next table the two Aussies, after some of their own dramatics, plunged into their Level 30s, while making sure everyone around them knew the magnitude of the feat they were attempting.

We were an easy mark for them to ham up to, right up to them offering one of us (i.e., To*ny, though Wayne was seriously assessing his own level of bravado) a wing, but failing which came round with their plate and gave each of us a finger dip of evil red sauce just to savour on the tips of our tongues. As a dutiful audience, we absolutely and publicly confirmed to the other diners in the restaurant that just a smudge of Level 30 was unadulterated liquid pain in a bottle.

It starts out with no sensation, then as the seconds tick by the intensity of the burn builds up until all consciousness collapses into a single shard of focus on the points of direct contact between lips, tongue and throat and the liquid sauce that probably originated from Seletar Airport's jet fuel supplies. Both June and To*ny reported temporary auditory dysfunction, though that was not my experience.

Amy, HP and Mel were content to just sit back and watch our self-immolation.

I think our confirmation of the two guys' insanity gratified them more than both the cert they received and having their names pasted on the Wall honouring those who have completed the challenge. There is no bravery without an incredulous audience to witnesses the performance.

Congrats, Mr Black Dog and buddy! You've inspired Wayne to come back next time and try Level 6!

Paperless clinic

Bukit Batok Polyclinic goes paperless: "no paper trail... from registration to check-out." But I have to ask, what about my MC? Oh, and the toilets? Hmm, not stocking toilets could help ANA enforce their go-before-you-fly approach to reducing aircraft carbon emissions. As long as they don't serve baked beans in-flight.

Random. Sorry.

Talking c*ck on TV

On his nationally televised talk show, Mr Letterman confesses his indiscretions and the consequences are a nasty letter from NOW, and an angry wife and co-workers to whom he makes a public apology. On another talk show halfway around the world, Mr Abdul-Jawad "brags" about his exploits on national TV and gets handed a 5-year jail sentence and 1000 lashes.

When are East and West ever going to find any common ground from which even the faintest glimmer of hope for peace between the two can spark? Not in this lifetime, anyway.

Gaming and youth

see more Funny Graphs

And S'pore kids too, apparently. lolz.

MUA2 side mission tips (spoiler alert)

I hate to brag, but I can be justifiably proud of myself for unlocking the entire team roster in MUA2 on Hard mode. On the Wii, that means completing all the Bonus Missions within the time limit and garnering a quota of points after which the character becomes playable as a team member in the main quest.

The more challenging missions are the solo ones, so I'll share the secrets of some of my successes here.

Jean Grey: use telekenesis (hold B) to slam those cranky bipedal bombs into the cars, thus clearing them easily and quickly so there's more time to devote to the battle with the Grey Gargoyle.

Gambit: use 52 Pickup liberally to break open boxes, junk and hidden rooms hiding those pesky hard-to-find data disks.

Thing: stun everybody with Hand Clap. 'nuff said.

Green Goblin: Spinning Blades is insanely lethal. Repeatedly 1-shot kill respawing Negative Zone guards until very close to quota, then after setting a bomb in the middle of the irritating electrified room, run for cover and stand at the exit doorway, continuing to kill guards until the exit door opens. As long as Gobby remains in the doorway, he can't be electrocuted.

Venom: Same mission as Gobby, except without the bomb setting task. Venom is easier because the mission allows a full team complement. Just keep killing respawning guards until quota.

Songbird: The most challenging thing is to keep the scientists she is escorting alive through the whole mission. Cast Sonic-Scream Shield and refresh often to keep her healthy and enemies weak. When she gets to a door, use Crushing Discord BEFORE opening it to kill enemies on the other side. She can hit them through the door, but they can't hit her. While Crushing Discord is good to use on Light mutants, Shrieking Slice works better on Heavies and Moonstone (Boss). Alternate the attacks when facing Moonstone 'cos Light mutants are attcking the scientists at the same time.

So, getting the whole team was do-able after all. Now the next challenge is to attain the Gold bonuses: same missions, higher quota of points to aim for.

Edit 01:

Huh! Been put in my place by the ST reviewer. Game is too easy, he says. So what? I like easy games.

Fishing for ideas

Gained a little insight into the kids' thought processes as they select essay questions. Facing 12 possible questions, they brainstorm as many anecdotal examples as they can think of per question, thus eliminating the questions they have no examples for. This wouldn't be a bad way to narrow 12 choices if not for the fact that most of the time they end up eliminating all 12, leaving the final option of 'whatever' which they then proceed to write -- example after example after example randomly associated with the topic area in question but with no regard to the question itself.

The kids are puzzled because they are not getting the rewards they think they are entitled to just because they've been able to re-tell several brain-cell killing pointless anecdotes they've forced themselves to study. They did study, didn't they? So why aren't they scoring like they expect? Simple, examples don't answer questions, no matter how long the list. I mean, examples are a fine and necessary thing, it's just that they alone are not the answer we're looking for.

If the question is "why?" the answer is "because." If the question is "should?" the answer is "why (or why not)." If the question is "how far" the answer is "under these specific conditions." If we think about answering the question, paying respect to its particular demands, then from a list of 12 questions, we have 12 options from which to choose our favourite.

By addressing the question, the relevant supporting evidence will surface without much effort. That is, as long as the kids have been keeping up with their daily readings. That's because the right context will locate the appropriate content. It's the difference between fishing in the ocean with random bait and fishing in a fish farm with a net. Ocean fishing is fun, but if we don't use the right bait we have no idea what we're going to catch, if anything at all. Fish farm fishing is hardly sporting, but we know what we're fishing for every time and we'll catch what we want.

GP is different. Unlike the other content subjects, we don't care what you KNOW. We care about what you THINK and if you have good reasons for thinking that way. Which is why our kids are still all lost at sea.

MUA2 comes up short

The Wii version of MUA2 has less going for it than the PS3/360 version. I was wrong about alternate costumes -- there aren't any. Likewise, there aren't any special team bonuses for particular quartet combinations. And no special dialogues between particular character combinations. There are fewer cutscenes and storyline missions too. Overall, the game (regardless of whether we're playing Pro or Anti Registration) is short, lacking the cosmological scope of the previous MUA. :P

These little features don't really add all that much to the overall gameplay, but they are nice little touches, like garnish on meat and potatoes. The meal is still quite substantial, but the presentation doesn't make us go 'wow'. If the previous MUA didn't have them, I wouldn't have been looking for them in this one. But to remove them from the follow up is short-changing us players on quality while substituting it with, um... nothing. Well, the control system is easier to use, I'll give them that.

Ok, anyway, I think the best characters to have on the team are either Iceman or the Invisible Woman for powerful ranged attacks, a psionic like Jean Grey or Psylocke who can fusion with a bruiser like the Thing or the Hulk for a player-guided "Billiard Ball" attack (creates a hamsterball around said bruiser who then charges masses of enemies for huge damage -- even bosses don't stand up to this kind of assault for long). The fourth member can be just about anyone else, 'cos they're just coming along for the ride.

Don't get me wrong. I am having loads of fun with MUA2 as it is. There are still lots of team combinations and fusions I have yet to try out, and side-quests yet to conquer. They haven't taken the best bits out of the game, but it could have been so much tastier.

Talented and bemused

These are the days of messing around with a video camera and shooting my friends and colleagues for a short little thing that will soon see the light of day.

We're shooting under very tight constraints, yet I've amazed myself in being able to capture the primary footage as of yesterday evening, and already get the rushes edited by this evening.

Wish I could say more about the final product, but there's still some post-production left to be done. The good news is that despite my deadline worries, I will deliver to my client on time after all. No extensions necessary.

Couldn't have done it without the cooperation of my talented and bemused co-workers who lent their faces and bodies to the shoot. I made them do things even though they didn't have much clue how my directions could possibly have made sense, especially since I involved different people in only different fragments of the shoot. Thanks for the trust, people!

Domestic violence

Woke up past midnight from a commotion in the house. There was the sound of scampering feet and unusual vocalizations that were quite unnerving. Turns out that Q-tip had been caught in the act of sniffing around the cats' feeding area, probably trying her luck scrounging for leftovers, and got a pummelling for her indiscretion. Chasing her off apparently wasn't enough. Whoever it was kept taking swipes at Q-tip's retreating behind all the way back to her territory, our bedroom.

When cats take swipes, they do it with claws extended. We found a spot of blood on Q-tip but when we cleaned the wound we found lots more scratches all over her butt and back. She looked like Wolverine had tried to shave her, quite ineptly too.

Back at the crime scene, we examined each cat's claws for blood trace, but the perfect crime had been committed. No blood to be found anywhere to indicate which suspect was the perp. Regardless, each of them will get their claws trimmed today, just to be safe.

98 years old

Been going to the vet's over the last couple of days. Mimi is 14 years old, and though she doesn't look or behave like it, her age is taking its toll. We took her in yesterday for a urinary tract infection and Dr Kasey advised spaying while treating this uncomfortable symptom.

Spaying, as I understand it now, amounts to a hysterectomy and Mimi's womb clearly needed removal. The infection had swollen her womb to several times its normal size, weighing in at 600g. That contributes to quite a sizeable percentage of her total body weight, considering she's quite a small dog to begin with.

Mimi's doing fine as of our visit tonight. She's no longer in an anaesthetized stupor but was very happy to see us. She wolfed down the chix leg we brought for her and paced her cage, barking weakly the whole time, clearly wanting us to take her home. But she needs one more night of observation before she can be discharged. That should be tomorrow night.

Dr Kasey also showed us some other areas of concern including her weakened heart and worrisome-looking liver, and informed us that he was putting her on long-term medication for those problems. But going by her reception of us tonight, there's still a lot of fight in the old girl yet.

Lunchtime toast

There were four of us at Charco's for an off-campus lunch: me with Dee, HP and Jojo. Don't know if she was inspired by Mel singing drinking songs she'd learned in the UK (Mel firmly believes in an all-rounded education) but in the middle of lunch, Jojo raised a glass and offered a toast to our workplace for being the happiest workplace she's ever worked in.

Hear, hear! For those of us who have worked elsewhere before, we can really appreciate the faculty life on our campus. It may not be so obvious to newbie employees who arrive fresh on our doorstep yearning to spread their wings further afield, but to us battle-scarred veterans of the corporate trenches, even amidst the chaos and hubbub of JC academia, I honestly number ourselves among the lucky few who've made it back to Old Blighty.

Undo the damage

There is a very compelling reason why we need to undo the damage to the quality of spoken English around here. I mean, Singlish is fine for friendly, personal, letting-yourself-go social conversation. This localized lingo is one form of culture we can truly say developed naturally from our little island, and is a touchstone of our identity at home and abroad, but it simply won't do as a medium of academic discourse. Especially if the local version of the language is the only one we use, but our written secondary and post-secondary language exams are set and graded by language academics in Cambridge, England.

But exam grades are just one little thing. Rubrics and tolerances balance each other out and collectively, grades simply point which direction the wind is generally blowing. What matters more is the level of engagement our kids have with texts that are not primarily written in the local vernacular and responding to them at the same level.

It's not a matter of which version is 'superior' or 'inferior' but rather whether one's command of language either facilitates or impedes understanding between people trying to communicate with one another. If there is no or little understanding, then there is a failure to communicate. In school terms, either the text is not getting through to the candidate, or the candidate isn't getting through to the marker, or both. Whichever, that is what the 'FAIL' grade pragmatically represents.

But that's just the grade. On the grander scale, too many people stuck in Singlish mode, unable to code-switch to the standard English of academic and intellectual discourse means too many Singaporeans being unable to participate in and contribute to complex and abstract thought.

If this is true, then our Colonial Masters haven't really left. We've just made it easier for them to give us our orders because we're proud to have 'upgraded' ourselves to speak a little more like them. But with this level of language ability, we are still unable to view them on equal terms.

Outside my window

Look at the time. 0213 hrs. I don't have a good reason for being up this late. Nevertheless, here I am sitting on my horrifically clawed sofa and listening the the howl of the wind just outside my apartment windows. And now the rain has just started to come down in large splashy drops. There is going to be such a storm tonight, once the lightning and thunder get going. I'm actually tempted to just stare outside and witness what looks to be a very dramatic climactic event. Maybe I'll do that for five minutes, then try to go to sleep.

Cognitive catatonia

Help! Swamped under with prelim grading. Dunno why it's taking so long. Maybe I'm thinking too hard and being too careful with each question, causing bouts of cognitive catatonia between answer scripts. In that kind of mental state, somnolence sneaks up like a ninja in bedroom slippers and delivers a chop to the back of the neck for the coup de grace.

Cannot. Deadline is too close to fool around. Focus. Focus...

A major change of policy

The industry is putting more emphasis on speech as our new policy for teaching the languages. Hopefully, that will translate into more in-class talk to train more articulate kids. The idea is, I suppose, to avoid further embarrassments when our people get interviewed by the media and the video goes viral over the 'net.

This policy will be interesting to implement in primary and secondary schools. For far too long, too many of them have been tending to operate on the policy of "shut up".

Hopefully, now things will change and in a few years down the road, by the time they get to JC the kids will have been more acculturated to seminar-style discussions in tutorials with more participants contributing views than just the tutor. We've long been waiting for the day.

I no can has faceburger?

So much for vaunted Japanese hospitality. A bear goes berserk sampling tourist-y fare at a bus station in scenic Takayama. It is then herded into a souvenir shop where the employees hold it against its will until in the end, it gets shot dead. Talk about pressure sales tactics! I've heard of tourist traps, but this is ridiculous.