Launch day for Tab

I can't resist launch days. I hate crowds, especially excited crowds; and I hate lining up in long queues, but inevitably, I find myself there anyway.

Launch item in question is the Samsung Galaxy Tab -- big-assed brother to the 'S' launched earlier this year.

Much to my embarrassment, I found myself positioned #2 in line though I really didn't make an effort to arrive that early. Somehow as we slightly early birds were milling about, the organizers got their act together and herded us into line. By some strange accident, I found myself right in front.

Found out later that the very first four retail customers had already been identified and given VIP treatment, while I was #2 after them. Still, I was far ahead enough to be invited to view the launch concert in person. Some up and coming K-pop star, G.Na, was on hand to belt out a few English and Korean numbers and say some nice things about the Tab before we could rush over to the retail counters and collect ours.

So, without any further ado, presenting my very own Personal Non-Productivity Device, Mr Tabby.

Graduation bawl

With reference to 'Graduation: No gown, scroll or photo op': for crap's sake, lady, your kid has graduated... kindergarten! Perhaps that might have been a grand accomplishment for you -- could be still -- but your kid has lots more opportunities to wear the cutesy costume for your photographic pleasure when it actually means something to him.

You keep insisting the event will be an 'unhappy' one, but the only one who is unhappy is you. The organization is happy doing it that way; the kids are happy because they have no other frame of reference (besides you) to compare their celebration against; and the other parents are probably happy because they can quickly grab their bemused graduand, take him for a celebratory ice-cream sundae and pack him off to Chinese tuition straight after lunch.

You know what will be really unhappy? Forcing hundreds of pre-schoolers to sit still and quiet while hundreds of names are read out individually. Have you never experienced hell on earth before?

Your kid deserves to be happy on the day of his graduation, but he won't be happy because you won't be happy. Smile, please, for his sake. It's HIS party, you can't cry just because you want to.

The one question

Another GP year has come to a close. Today's final exam was, if not easy, then at least straightforward. Most essay questions looked do-able, and no nasty surprises. There was a head-scratcher over dying rich = dying 'disgraced', and a particular angle demanded by the tech question (tech has a negative effect on skill levels) which I hope the kids paid attention to. They do love the sci-tech subject so much, sometimes they forget to read the whole question. *shudder

But the compre paper totally vindicated what I had said about the application question all along. There is only ONE question to answer, no matter how many question marks appear. The main question is the one that asks if and/or how the one or two passages apply to the [new] given context from which perspective the candidate is required to consider. In other words, when we ask which author you agree with, or is more relevant, or otherwise presents a more convincing argument, these are just supporting questions that remind the candidate to make appropriate and relevant references to the passages in answer to the main question.

Trouble is, kids tend to spend too much energy answering the supporting questions (frankly, I don't care which author you agree with OR why), they have no time or forget to answer the main question. Instant fail.

This year, the application question went straight to the heart of the matter: how does the author's views on food apply to you and your society? It didn't even bother to ask the supporting questions, knowing how well we've drilled our kids to answer them. A single question mark sharpens the focus to a single key idea. That's the application question I understood right from the time they rolled it out. It didn't need to get any more complicated than that.

Attempting to make small talk

First, condolences to NBS who lost a Squeak. We pet owners share your grief as it is the same pain, regardless of their relative sizes. :'(

Second, while on duty this afternoon, I happened to overhear a conversation between a trio of fellow invigilators. It was all about tut tutting over some petty misdemeanour of a colleague of theirs before drifting on to discuss where they expect to be in five years' time. OMG, is this really the subject matter normal human beings raise when they make small talk? No wonder I have problems chatting people up. Small talk is just lost on me, who prefers to keep his own counsel over making such inconsequential matters sound so serious.

Which is why I am so thankful for my own colleagues. Our talk is anything but serious, nothing is too sacred to poke fun at -- not even ourselves -- and to anyone listening in on us we would probably make no sense at all.

We spent the evening celebrating another birthday. The a la carte buffet spread at Hibiki was very well done. We couldn't decide what to order so the staff presented our table for 10 a first round serving of everything on the menu. The ebi sashimi was so fresh it didn't remind me of fish bait for once. Even the unagi was palatable to my finicky standards. After the first round, we were only able to order another serving of assorted sashimi and teriyaki (for the non-raw food eaters) before calling it quits. Kind'a sad that this place that serves up such good food didn't have much business. We occupied the biggest table in the house, made the most noise and kept the staff most busy. They could certainly use more customers, so go!

Will end off this rather random entry with this clip featuring a totally audacious football play. Usually in [American] football, we can expect loads of violence, mayhem and broken bodies flung all over the pitch -- and that's just during the touchdown celebrations. In comparison, the following play must have been designed by Gandhi himself! Take a look...


And... that's all, folks!

Can you count to two?

End of year invigilation has started. Large exam venues are a pain as the candidature runs in the hundreds. Accounting for the papers collected takes some time as each one has to be tallied against the attendance sheet. So even after the paper has ended, we can still expect to remain behind for a while counting everything up. As with B-lo's nightmarish experience with her first duty last week, it could happen that counting could last up to an hour after the 'pens down' announcement.

As it turns out, my duty today was the best case scenario. It was a relatively small candidature, no doubt, but my assignment was to be responsible for the private candidates' column. Altogether there were a total of four names on my list, 50% of which were absent. It was a breeze to collect and count all the way up to 'two', and skedaddle while the others were still collecting theirs.

A good start to this year's duty, I think. Not likely to occur again; no one could be as lucky twice.

Evil makes good

This year, it's the villains who get the focus. For all their grandiose plans of world domination, they're only compensating for the one thing they have been deprived of: acceptance. That is, if 'Despicable Me' and the just opened 'Megamind' would have us believe.

Gru's three orphans grow on him, and his long-suppressed paternal instincts rise to the fore as he meets his new-found responsibilities like a man. Megamind gets afflicted with reverse Stockholm syndrome -- he kidnaps the same female reporter so often he eventually falls for her. When this pair of miscreants realize their human sides, they gain a purpose bigger than themselves and eventually make good.

If only real evil were so easy to identify. But it's the consequences of momentary idiocy; or blind, unquestioning faith; or misguided righteousness that are truly horrific. In fact, often the greatest evils are perpetrated by those who believe they are acting for the greatest good. Think about that for a bit.

Oh, and while we're on the topic of cartoon characters, alas, poor Sid. I knew him, Manfred. Sniff.

But I'm only 40! Plus.

Anyone reading my last few entries must think yours truly is nothing but a crotchety old f*rt shaking his walking stick at the world 'cos he can't find his dentures. Better get the defibrillator on stand-by in case he bursts a blood vessel.

Slow down, old boy; you're starting to show your age.

Grades, grades...!

Our children certainly are a product of what we teach them. I can hear adult voices behind these kids' assertions that grades take priority over graciousness. It's fine for anxious parents and driven educators to push their kids to better and higher achievement, but not at the expense of hollowing them out of their basic humanity and unique personalities.

I watched the Asian premier of 'The Walking Dead' on Fox, and I couldn't help noticing the parallel between the cannibalistic undead and the yao guai (hungry ghost) next generation we seem to be raising. They may not lack resources -- I'm sure they'll all ace their job interviews with those impressive grades of theirs --  but they're all empty inside. In an every-zombie-for-itself world, no one can tell friend from enemy, family from stranger. Everyone is a competitor, every decent human being left is either food or seeks to put them out of their misery with a bullet between the eyes.

Ok, I'm exaggerating. But parents, teachers, one day in the not too distant future, these kids will be employed -- as decision-makers who will be deciding on our fate. Let's see how proud you will be of them when you are mouldering in some forgotten corner of a retirement home wondering why you haven't seen Junior in so long. Your kids will be too busy fighting and surviving in this competitive world that you created in their minds to think about you any longer, except how soon they can cash in your CPF.

Planned obsolescence

That's it. Done with the last consult. The last three weeks were intense, but it felt good to talk with the kids around a conference table than to talk at them in a classroom. Despite the disastrous results they've been getting throughout the year, it's gratifying to see they haven't given up and are still intent on doing well.

But it's out of my hands now. I've relinquished my hold on the bicycle and it's up to them to pedal, coast... or crash on their own. Like an anxious parent, all I can do is watch them go; knowing that if I've done my job well enough, they won't need me any more.

Keep pedaling, kids, and don't look back!

Deprived of iron

Oh dear. It's true. I confess. Haven't gone to the fitness centre in almost three weeks. My schedule has been packed with consults getting their acts together (at last!) in the run-up to the finals next week. But as a result, my cold is coming back. Blocked and leaky nose, wheezing lungs... check, check and check.

Thankfully, I'm down to my last full day of consults. Immediately after, I'm going straight back to pump the symptoms right out of my system.

'A' is the new normal

FM says we should strive for excellence, and from the ground wells up an outpouring of insecurity, inadequacy and  indignation. We're already working so hard to score straight 'A's; what more could the man expect to wring from us?

Ironic for me to say, but scoring straight 'A's is the new normal. Excellence no longer resides solely in academic achievement because all Education can provide is just a common foundation on which every student can start from.

Education trains good habits, plays a role in character building, helps people develop some idea about how the world functions. For most people, that is enough. It is, really. It's great to be average. People like us are the base from which excellent people stand above the crowd. But we seem to be short of such people who develop interests in interesting things and in so doing become interesting themselves. It gets tiresome sometimes when we look at each other and see reflections of our own mundaneness. In our human sea of dull grey, we want to see a few shiny things that brighten the gloom.

I dunno. When I see the occasional shiny thing, I get inspired to do a little better. For most of my fellow citizens, when they see shiny things their first instinct is to shoot them down, like they represent an alien invasion, or something. Maybe that's not too far fetched an analogy: our sporting achievements tend to erupt into a War of the Worlds situation as we flagellate ourselves over why 'true-blue S'poreans' aren't excellent enough to compete against out imported talent.

We've grown a culture that chooses not to celebrate excellence. We discourage our youngsters from pursuing things they are good at or are interested in doing. We're afraid that if they do well in those things, they'll lose their place in the average mass where there is safety in numbers. Shining too brightly or swimming too far out at the edge is a sure way to get snapped at by a passing predator, so everybody swims in a homogenous unit, in a... dare I say it? A school.

If we're going to be a school, I'd rather not be in a school of ikan bilis (anchovies). Lacklustre, uninteresting, numerous, nobody sheds a tear when we crunch them with our nasi lemak. Let's be a pod of dolphins, creatures to be marvelled at, communicated with, studied like a fellow intelligent species; and even if we get clubbed to death by mad Japanese fishermen, at least someone will kick up a stink, rail at the heavens and miss us.

Maybe we don't know how to be excellent. We do have living examples among us, believe it or not. You have to admire the audacity of Fusion Garage CEO, Chandra Rathakrishnan, for launching the Joojoo just ahead of the market-changing iPad, probably against all good marketing sense and advice. If not for comparisons against the iPad, the Joojoo would have been a decent enough device, but Excellence was in the belief and conviction to launch before the gargantuan competition could. And survive.

There's this little 12-year old girl who has just become S'pore's latest world title holder... in yoga, of all things. I'm pretty sure she does just fine in school, but so does everyone else. But watch her through her routine and be amazed at her technique, poise and flexibility. What kind of training does it take to become this excellent? Well, there can only be one world champion at a time, so what can we laggards do to match up?

Obviously, we don't have to match her in her chosen field of excellence. We each have our own fields and our own ways to be excellent there. But even if we don't have any particular talent in any particular field -- and that would be the majority of us -- we can still heed the exhortation of dual paragons of mediocrity, Bill S Preston Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan, to simply "be excellent to each other...!" We can at least do that.

Our studies are important, like rice is important. It's our staple and we can't live without it. Excellence is ice-cream with a cherry on top. But you can have it only after you finish your meal. I want ice-cream. I'm sure you do too.

Lost generation needs a smack

Ah, our poor, lost younger generation who know not what they defend. You think too highly of yourselves if you think you are being called upon to defend king and country. 'Tis no ideal, no ideology, no Grand Plan you bear arms for. All the older generation asks is that you see fit to defend yourselves and your home, that's it.

What home, you ask? Remember the people who call you family, those you call your friends? That home. Like family, you don't get to choose whom you live with, though you can choose whom to be friends with. So it's not the place, but the people you share meals with from time to time whom you are defending. It so happens they all have to live somewhere, so yeah, that home.

If you don't know what you're defending, then you perhaps don't think your family and your BFFs are worth defending. You don't think of yourself as worth defending. That's fine. Lots of young people feel the same way. There were the Roman punks chillaxin' in their bounty. Tactically and technologically they had the best army in the world defending them, but the barbarians dropped by and trashed the place anyway, raping, pillaging and slaughtering as they went. What we DO remember of the Romans are the remains of what their forefathers had built... that's about it. Good company, you youngsters keep.

There's only one problem I have with you not knowing what home you're defending. You are talking about MY home too. Could you do an old guy a favour and wait until I no longer have a need for a home on Earth before you toss it away to the barbarians? Yes, the ones who are eyeing all the nice things you kids have 'cos the only way they can see themselves having the same privileges as you is by prying them from your cold, dead fingers. The same ones you are calling out to like a wounded duck calls out to hungry wolves for a swift and merciful end; the ones you are inadvertently inviting home with your legs wide open.

Humour me.

The straw critic

There's a recent trend in GP that so-called 'balance' points get snuck into essays under the guise of reporting the views of the 'critics'. Otherwise, they're called 'detractors' or 'pessimists' or some other appellation.

But who are these critics? What are they critics of? What views do they detract from? Fact is, unless the essayist is targeting a specific criticism held by a known group of people, the critic in the GP essay is a figment of the student's imagination.

It is a convenient device to hang a weak oppositional viewpoint on so that they can assure themselves that they have considered 'the other side'. But once having done so, the better students will offer a counter-counter argument which is irritating, or just forget to deal with the critics' view on the unwritten assumption that they're just critics -- what do they know? Unforgivable!

In most GP essays, the 'critic' is used as a logical straw-man. Bring in some arbitrary, extreme, obscure point and attribute it to some imaginary non-entity. Beat the stuffing out of it, or simply ignore it, it doesn't matter because it isn't real in the first place.

What's real? People who talk to imaginary critics in life are either the delusional homeless or the institutionalized. Whatever has made this batch of students become so crazy?

A small and simple Halloween

I've given up organizing campus-wide Halloween events because the occasion falls during the period when the big kids have finals to study for and the little kids are immersed neck deep in their group projects. If that isn't enough horror for them, I don't know what is.

This year, I kept things really small and simple: host just the drama kids for a little screamfest. There aren't that many of them and they look like they could use a break -- before they get desperate enough to eat each others' brains. And they really don't need any more junk food.

Imagine my surprise when they volunteered to take the event off my hands (along with my hands) and invite the whole world to my proposed do. Ah, such ambition, my little drama kids have. Such hubris.

Have to give them credit -- they did their best. Friday evening, it's back to just us, a small gathering of rowdy revelers gathered 'round yon projector for a seasonally appropriate movie screening.

The faintest of heartbeats

My worst fears are realized. It seems reports of Mr L33t's demise have been greatly exaggerated. The poor fellow's not dead, only irreparably lobotomised. Which is worse. No reason to purchase any further upgrades 'cos everything's working just fine -- except the hard drive which has utterly and completely failed.

As I said, all my important data has been backed up on an external drive, though I've lost everything of value within the past month... sort of being in between backups. But my saved games are probably unrecoverable.

Bought a 1Tb replacement HDD but will have to reinstall everything all over again. Painful. I'll have to replay all my games too! Someone's going to be busy over the December hols.

Alas, poor Mr L33t

A minute's silence for the demise of Mr L33t, who as of this evening refused to boot up. Cause of Death looks to be a general mobo failure, though he also showed signs of clogged air vents and an accumulation of dust on his interior surfaces which house sensitive electronics.

Will attempt to salvage still functioning transplantable parts, but it's time for a serious overhaul, maybe upgrades even. The only thing I hope for is that his hard drive is still intact. Too many personal photos and save games to see wiped clean. Yes, I have backups, but it's inconvenient to restore everything.

Think we're about to experience Mr L33t's third incarnation. That's the thing about PCs that die: they always come back better than they were before.

Wait, where are the animal pictures?

HOT date at the Night Safari's Halloween event.

Before venturing further, we fortify ourselves with Bongo Burgers -- safari themed fast food. The burgers aren't quite the size we remember, but if most people's appetites are anything like June's, perhaps its just as well. Guess who had to finish her leftovers?

The Haunted Village attraction was at the zoo. It's not visible from this pix but behind us the queue to get in here snaked a very long way away. To get to this entrance took about half-an-hour of patient stand-look around-move forward-repeat. Lots of atmospheric sound effects, spooky music and the odd costumed party-goer to keep us company in the meantime.

This bunch of fraidy-cats pushed June and me to the front as soon as we stepped through the creepy entrance. Inside, lots of spooks got their jollies popping up and scaring the bejeebers out of our makeshift party. It's good to travel with a crowd of screamers. People tend to bring their own atmosphere with them.

A close encounter with a spook. I asked for a close-crop, but this is ridiculous.

The other highlight was the spooky tram ride. It's the usual ride around the park to view the nocturnal activities of the animals, but tweaked with a soundtrack and the guide adopting a Monsterpiece Theatre presenter's voice as she nattered through her spiel on lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Could tell she was having fun 'cos this is about the only occasion that she could threaten stubborn flash photogs with a 'poke in the eye'.

Along the way, there were also frequent 'visitations' from our guide's scarier colleagues. Somehow, they know how to pick the screamers. My observation: to avoid becoming a victim of these apparitions, choose a seat directly above the tram wheels. No ghoulie would risk squished tootises for the sake of a shriek. 

Lots of other photo ops at the entrance plaza. The costumed ones are not above sudden acceleration to startle the unwary and pursue the fleeing.

If you're thinking of going too -- there's still this weekend and next -- go early, and don't waste too much time over dinner. We thought we had lots of time but after covering the Gui Mansion, the tram ride and the animal show, it was too late for us to take the walking trail where more surprises awaited us.

Wonder what the tourists thought of this very Asian-themed Halloween celebration?

Reading aloud

Consultations are coming in thick and fast. They can be a lot more draining than regular classes 'cos the kids are actively engaged and focused on asking questions that really make you think before shooting off a reply. Many of these past nights, mental fatigue sets in and I'm passed out on the floor of the study again. It's a seasonal thing.

But I've learned from last year. Around this time, I lost my voice for a week, losing valuable consult time with last year's kids. This year, Im drinking more water and, more importantly, I'm making the kids read their work aloud to me. I can thus minimize my vocal input, inturrupting where necessary and reviewing Cowell-style after.

While conserving my larynx, the kids also benefit from the reading as they can catch awkward phrasing and grammatical errors they've made. Listening is a skill we don't train much at our level, but it's too important to neglect, especially when GP is so particular about the use of language.

Also, it's good for them to read what they have written because with a 'live' and immediate audience they have to take pride in their essays and AQs. All the more so if they're reading aloud to a small group consult. Given more time and more practice, writing quality is sure to go up.

In other news, it's been HOT. It's been so hot, June and I have polished off a pint of Benjamin and Jeremiah's frozen confections a night. Soon, we're going to become what we eat: a Chunky Monkey(TM) and a Chubby Hubby(TM) respectively.

And they're off!

Like the rest of their cohort, x34 officially flies the coop today. See? Old enough to wear bow-ties, they are. Witch hats are for the crone and codger that sent them on their way.

And some of the graduating class of x33

x34 again. Long may these kids look back fondly and remember that on this date they took their first steps into a society larger than they ever imagined. Though they have an exam yet to get through first.

Putting the "me" in media

Messing around with Google's Chrome Experiments. Found The Wilderness Downtown fun in a narcissistic, nostalgic kind of way. It mainly features Arcade Fire's music video, "We Used to Wait". But thanks to Google Maps, if you input an address into the search bar, that location becomes incorporated into the video. The integration isn't smooth just yet 'cos lots of windows pop up, occasionally obscuring each other, but I can imagine what it could be like when the integration becomes more seamless.

For the most all-about-me effect, the Experiment encourages you to input the street address of the house you grew up in, though you may input any address you wish. One of the windows that pop up asks you to write a postcard to the past "you" from the perspective of the person you are now. Ok, then, a little reflective self-indulgence:

Dear young Xmac
Stop slouching! Everything that is happening to you now may look hopeless upfront, but hang tough and you will survive. You'll be ok, really. You'll see.


PS
please rescue the Matchbox cars you hid on the toilet window sill before you forget where you put them!


PPS
please stop Mom from selling off your Star Wars action figures at 5¢ apiece! They'll be worth a fortune someday, I'm sure of it!

Sigh... my two biggest childhood regrets.

Ready to fly

The soon-to-be-graduating class of mine. Sorry about the picture quality. This is a scan of a colour print on A4 paper, but it's the only shot of all of us as a group that I have. So far I've been blessed with Civics groups that have left me with good memories. x34 is no exception. Only a couple of days left before Pet (co-civics tutor) and I kick them all out of the nest. We'll miss you; and -- we mean this in the nicest possible way -- don't come back! *sniff... waves hanky

The marriage equation

Responding to NBS's post on 'Soulmates', we often have the misconception that in marriage the equation works out as 1/2 + 1/2 = 1, by which we assume that we are incomplete until another completes us. That's not going to happen. A person who only feels like 1/2 and seeks an identity in another is going to be disappointed that the perfect "1" will always seem elusive, unattainable even.

Marriage is more of a 1 + 1 = 2 situation -- a partnership of 2 complete individuals who are different from each other, but preferably in a complementary way. Because marriage comprises 2 complete individuals, staying together is a constant choice they must make with every obstacle or difficulty they encounter as a couple.

Kids add a further complication. They cannot be expected to be complete in themselves until they leave to build their own nests. So, 1 + 1 + x/2 = 2 + x/2. Chaos ensues.

Grand Theft Auto

Last Friday, Wayne's car was spotted parked in the campus porch area -- in a lot designated 'Reserved'. He'd parked it there with the intention to make a quick getaway for the weekend as soon as he was done for the day.

The next time he saw his car again, it had mysteriously moved back to its usual parking spot behind the canteen. Strange things happen if you park in unaccustomed areas, but leave your keys unattended within easy access of well-meaning individuals.

Huh? What do I know about Wayne's car? Er... it's red?

Getting Steamed

Got my hands on Civ V. It was a total pain to install because the DRM relies on the player having a Steam account beforehand. That's not the problem because lots of other games have similar requirements. Steam, however, insists on updating itself upon installation... and hangs at downloading the update patch as it can't connect to the Steam server, for some reason.

After some searching over the 'net, I finally found this solution that worked for me: click here. Thanks, daveske!

Oh, make sure you first backup the file he suggests you edit -- just in case.

As for the game itself, er... I'm still messing around with the tutorials. Civ V looks like it has a lot of depth to come to grips with. Not quite ready to start a proper game, hopefully I be will soon.

Less than average

Edit 01:
Think I've been reading the figures wrong. What Credit Suisse is referring to is not the average income per person per year. Rather it's the average value of all the stuff we own individually. But considering that at least 50% of what I own is co-owned by June, my net worth is still nowhere near that estimate. Our rich-poor gap must be huge to hike up our expectation of what 'average' means around here.
-----

Waaaait a second...! I thought I was average, but Credit Suisse has completely ended my delusion. S'pore is the second richest nation in Asia, fourth richest in the world. Average personal wealth per adult is USD255,488 (S$333,462). If this is true, I calculate that I'm just slightly above the poverty line.

Speed thrills

To the WRX Bengmobile who -- as I was filtering left from lane 1 so as to exit the CTE -- stepped on the accelerator to cut me off but ran out of space and ended up straddling lanes 2 and 3 sandwiched between me on the right and a truck on the left, thus causing a few anxious seconds before we could all get it sorted out: Ee-diot!

In case you think I didn't check my blind spot, Ah Bengmobile was actually in my rear-view mirror with space to spare between our vehicles. To close the gap that quickly shows a wilful intent on his part to pressure me to stay in my lane despite my early signal and the fact that I had already committed to the movement to change lane. Guess he was in a hurry. There was something urgent in the hand 'signal' he proffered in my direction immediately after we got clear of each other.

Small-time solutions for big-time poverty

Because we think of poverty in developing nations as a huge problem, we tend to leave the thinking of solutions up to international aid, government and non-government agencies and big business. We have this assumption that because they are much bigger, smarter, and richer than us, they have the responsibility to fix the problem. Who are we, after all, to even comprehend the scale of the problem, let alone contribute to solving the problem?

But here's a radical idea: since the people suffering in poverty are so short of many necessities, why don't we (as in 'normal' people) invent some kind of technology they can use to maximize what resources they do have, and sell it to them at a low cost? Notice I said 'sell' and not 'give', because resources can only be acquired at a cost; and if we don't recover our costs our Christmas Tree would run dry very fast.

And why should we even bother helping these poor folk whom we have almost zero contact with in our day-to-day lives? Simple: there are millions of people living under the poverty line in the world today, let's say on about US$1.25 a day. They may not have a lot of money in their pockets, but they do have SOME money they would be ready to part with IF we can sell them a product that is both good and useful to them.

If a few million people would give us a portion of their US1.25 a day, what's in it for us is a huge market with lots of further growth potential... or in other words, there's a lot of money to be made selling them a product they would be willing to buy. But we're so not selling them junk. As David Wolman says, "The poor may be poor, but they're not stupid."

So, if we're going to save people from poverty, perhaps the best ones to do it would be us, the small-time entrepreneur with an innovative idea that would benefit millions for a low, low price. Wait, why does this sound like PW all over again?

Essay skills: structure vs content

Josh and I have a difference of opinion. He thinks that when answering GP essays, content and logic are inextricably linked, whereas I would separate the two and place more weightage on logic over content. I've not been able to sway him from his position, but to be honest I haven't been able to explain my position adequately to myself either. That is, until this afternoon's consult with a student.

The essay in question was: Discrimination against women is still an epidemic in today's world. Discuss.

My standard question breakdown is as follows:
Subject: discrimination against women
Condition: in today's world
Qualifier: is still an epidemic

Despite many possible variations, a proper answer to this question (like any other question) requires a logical structure in order to be satisfying. For example:

In today's context (condition),
IF discrimination against women were still widespread around the globe (subject)
THEN we can say that it is epidemic in proportion (qualifier)
HOWEVER we observe that there has been a marked improvement in the lives of women in certain parts of the world
SINCE this improvement in women's rights is gaining ground in the world today
THEREFORE we can say the 'epidemic' has stopped spreading and -- though it may yet take some time -- the lot of women is instead getting increasingly better.

So this is the logic part -- a series of claims that deal with each aspect of the question leading to a fair and 'balanced' conclusion. Of course, these claims are unsupported at the moment so now we can start layering in the content to flesh out the argument and make it more convincing.

Yes, content is crucial to the essay, but in a secondary role. Content has to be filtered and arranged in a way that supports the answer's logic structure. Content alone is just information, but information is not what we are testing. We want to know if the student can make a decision [regardless of how nonsensical it is -- discrimination of women is like an epidemic???] and justify it through a logical thought process... with supporting evidence (content).

Conclusion: logic and structure first and always because that is what answers the question. Content is meaningless without either.

Not animal documentaries too!

This is going to feel like telling a child that Santa Claus doesn't exist. We've long held the assumption that animal documentaries are one of the very few programmes left on TV that we can trust as 'real'. Not so, says Chris Palmer, who makes a living producing them. Click.

Ok, before you get carried away and throw your Cable subscription out the window, I believe that, like any other kind of programme on TV, there is a genuine attempt to tell a true story. However, the true story cannot always be caught on camera at the time the camera is looking for a true story to capture. Very often, these stories have to be reenacted by actors, whether human or animal.

The truth in animal documentaries? Let's just call these presentations a sacrifice of low-resolution truth for the sake of high-definition video storytelling. It's better than channel surfing to Nat Geo and getting frozen on a "Service disrupted till the Truth appears" message before something interesting shows up.

Book run gone west

Funny how the library keeps sending us to Jurong on our book delivery runs. We still can't get around without the help of our trusty street directory, but this time we didn't get lost.

First recipient refused delivery but instead suspended further deliveries because she had to study for her year-end exams. She might have called the library earlier, but we suspect it was her mom who made that decision for her. Anyway, we collected the books she was returning from the previous run so it wasn't an entirely wasted trip.

June went alone to meet the second recipient. I had to stay in the car because the parking lot was full. Never did get a lot. June found me where she'd left me. No other problems.

Two drops, run done!

A cat may open a door

Achieving a new milestone for feline intelligence, Maui has learnt to open the bathroom bi-fold door from the inside! The bi-fold door is designed to be opened by human hands only. It requires fingers to grip the embedded handhold in order to pull the door open. The handhold is too high for Maui to reach and even if he could touch it, he doesn't have any fingers to grip it anyway. And pulling a door open is quite an alien concept to a cat used to applying his body weight to push doors open instead. See for yourself in the vid below:

Oh, a note about the accompanying music: YouTube makes it difficult for us to distribute material containing copyrighted music. With apologies to KMJ, I used her one of her original compositions for a Drama Night of years long past. It was the only piece of non-copyrighted music I had.

'Small is better' debunked?

As in my previous post, today we see another example of learning taking place in desperate circumstances. NYT reports that a school with a huge population and low grade scores has recently made an amazing recovery, thus proving that the 'small is better' rule is wrong.

I think it proves more the exception than the rule. No offence to Brockton High's achievement, but the headline oversimplifies matters. Brockton made circumstances work in its favour. It recognized that reading and writing, speaking and reasoning (in English, I assume) were the very basic fundamental skills forming the bedrock of any kind of higher learning. Thus, it insisted that every subject factored in some component of reading and writing regardless of how 'relevant' literacy in English was to the subject, even gym class. Any subject having problems implementing this odd new component got immediate support and assistance from the committee heading this initiative.

There were the usual teething problems but it worked, mostly because there was nothing further to lose anyway. The other thing was that everyone agreed to align themselves to prioritizing reading, writing, speaking and reasoning over their specific content subject area, and so allocated the necessary time and emphasis on the same during curriculum time. Needless to say, the kids got a lot of practice in these basic skills which went a long way to boosting their overall academic performance over time.

I can't imagine an already successful school pulling off such Instructional Programme alignment among their staff. Every successful Department will want to focus on it own syllabus, maintain its own reputation and see such cross-departmental cooperation as a waste of time and effort. Why risk sacrificing our good grades to help another department pull up their's?

Selfishness aside, class size may not matter if what is being taught is basic literacy and reasoning skills. Everybody teaches the same thing, everybody learns the same thing. It's teaching that caters to the lowest common denominator. But class size does begin to matter when we're teaching higher, more specialized skills and content -- when a small mistake can result in grave consequences to the final result, closer supervision is necessary.

Time to get personal. Consultation season is about to recommence. At this level, one-to-one and small group meetings are still the best form of teaching.

Learning from a hole in a wall

I think Sugata Mitra's TED Talk in it's entirety is worth the link. Mitra has been experimenting with kids and computers and is now proposing that even without a trained teacher, kids with a computer and broadband Internet access can organize themselves and learn what they need to learn.

Now, wait. If what he has observed is true, then S'porean kids should be freakin' geniuses! Many of them are carrying around their own personal Internet devices in their pockets. Those who don't still have lots of free (or cheap) access to the 'net almost any time they want. Plus they have the added advantage of having access to us, trained teacher professionals who are ready, willing and able to mould the future of our nation. But, sad to say, to call the majority of our kids 'geniuses' is somewhat of an exaggeration. And I'm not trying to be modest here.

Worse still, why is it that when we come across students who are struggling with one subject or another, our first line of attack is to cut him or her off from this very key learning tool in our wired age? In some countries, Internet access is a human right, so this approach could in some circles be considered an atrocity!

In our case, Internet access is a major advantage that we have yet to exploit properly. What we haven't come to realise yet is that access to fast information at our fingertips will only work to help us become smarter people if certain fundamental premises are already in motion. According to Mitra's findings, kids are self-organizing and they learn according to what they as a group are interested in learning. Also, kids learn collaboratively and cooperatively. Information is shared among kids freely, thus when one makes a discovery or arrives at an understanding of a concept or whatever, very quickly this new knowledge spreads to the rest of the group. Result: smarter, more motivated kids who understand what they are learning and can recall their learning much better than our exam-smart text-bookish S'pore students who 'slog their guts out' and have had no fun with their learning process whatsoever.

Unfortunately for us, the ones standing in the way of our kids actually learning and enjoying their learning is... us. Teachers. We don't let them self-organize. We organize EVERYTHING for them; their materials, their time, their tests, their co-curricula activities; inside school, outside school we manage them and continue treating them like unweaned breast-fed babies regardless of their physical age. I wonder if that's why we feel so sucked dry sometimes?

But the worst thing is that because of what we are doing, because of our lack of trust in our kids, we instil in them the idea that they can't trust anyone either. Not their friends, not their classmates, because everyone is competing for a limited number of university places. Competition is the biggest killer of collaborative and cooperative learning, and without this fundamental pillar of learning our job teaching individual selfish information hoarders can actually be quite a futile one, a joyless one and a thankless one.

This sort of competition-is-good (or at least inevitable) attitude goes right up to MP level, so making the necessary changes to the way we teach to maximize our latest tech assets will be 1) difficult, and 2) will have to start on a very small-scale, perhaps within one's personal sphere of influence, no more.

Who's with me?

On task

The best thing about finishing prelim exam grading a whole weekend ahead of schedule is that I now have all the time in the world... to finish grading my assignment backlog. Yay.

Values in two hours

Big industry boss wants us to teach our kids values. The plan is to allocate two curriculum hours a week in which the kids can learn the values of citizenship and about their social and moral responsibilities as human beings who can balance their reasoning abilities with their emotions.

This latest development could be a step in the right direction, seeing as how our kiddies are so drained of soul by the time they've passed junior high. This is one opportunity for us to reach them with a different perspective from the usual results-are-everything message they're so tired of listening to. That is, if they don't have a test to pass at the end of the year just to prove that this extra class justifies the taxpayers' monies funding it, in which case the whole exercise becomes self-negating. Actually, taxpayers don't have to worry since we'll be teaching it for no extra pay, but you know how accountants get about justifying every microsecond of our time -- it's their job.

I can see how such classes would be great for the kids in secondary school and below, though I believe they already have some kind of social studies and civics and moral ed classes. An extra two hours a week could help them put the theories they learn in-class into real, practical projects; or at least get them learning about their world butts-off, hands-on. These are skills we can't learn from textbooks anyway, so let's get active for a change. Let's use this opportunity to show them what goes on outside the classroom, unmediated, uncensored, and fully sensory.

I wonder if these two-hour weekly sessions are meant to continue through junior college? If we start taking in kids who have real experience working within the community since their secondary school days, I'll bet our GP classes will be so much more engaging for both us and our hypothetical future students. After all, everything Boss wants taught we already cover in GP, with the exception that we have an exam at the end the kids must take.

With the experience they bring with them coupled with their mid-teen maturity, they should be ready to discuss the basis of their beliefs, the nature of the human condition, human partnership with one another and stewardship over the rest of the world, and have a sense of fun, innovation and hope for their future.

I know I'm being idealistic. Our intentions are always good. I'm just worried about the accountant in his little back room working out how all this is going to pay off in dollars and cents, effectively placing a price tag on the priceless, thus rendering it worthless.

Amazing prescience

Tues 21 Sept 2010, 1030 hrs:
C (via email): Please report for duty tomorrow at 1415 hrs...

Wed 22 Sept 2010, 1315 hrs:
C (via voice call): Oy, where the @#$& are you? You're on duty now, y'know!

Xmac: Oh? Your email said to report at 1415?

C: Really? That was a mistake. Please report now!

Wed 22 Sept 2010, 1330 hrs:
D  (over PA system): Due to a disruption on the MRT line at AMK station, this afternoon's paper will be delayed and will commence at 1430 hrs.

C: Er, there's a delay. You want to come back at 1415 hrs?

Xmac: Sure. Whatever.

Wayne and the beans talk

Sometimes we get lucky with the little tributes the kids leave leave at our feet on Teachers' Day. Wayne, in particular, received a bagful of Sumatra coffee beans. The idea is that he takes these beans to their source -- Starbucks in this case -- where they are ground up and served as regular brew, no charge 'cos they have already been paid for.

Why did I say 'lucky'? Because apart from bringing his bag of magic beans, Wayne brought an entourage with him: B-lo, HP and me. Hey, coffee is good, but downing eight cups in one sitting by oneself is only asking for trouble.

Spent the afternoon at a nearby Starbucks, sipping coffee with our feet up... and grading essays. We were working, ok? And B-lo called it 'enjoying a lazy afternoon'. We're getting a little worried about that girl.

Tongue-tied in nots

I take my hat off to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Master of the multiple negative. Responding to international sanctions against Iran, he says:

“Now, this doesn’t mean certainly that we [don’t] take it seriously, but it does not mean that it has a negative influence on our economy, because it does not.” (Jerusalem Post, 9/20/2010)

It's a head-scratcher at first glance, but it actually does make sense. But if the way he speaks is any reflection of the way his mind works, it's no wonder we are having such a hard time understanding each other.

English alone will never suffice. Does anybody remember 'Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra'? It's gotta be something like that when dealing with the Iranian leadership.

No taste for the bitter

When June cooks, the animals usually crowd around her legs, mewing and making enough of a nuisance of themselves to be noticed and offered a taste of what's in the wok. Once in a while, Momo would take an impatient nip at an exposed ankle which would result in her summary ejection from the kitchen. Ms Teeth-and-claws would then spend her exile in my study where I am supposed to entertain her until the cooking's done.

This afternoon, June cooked in peace. The animals, they were minding their own business in the living room giving the kitchen a wide berth.  On the menu was yesterday's bittergourd fried up with mincemeat and dao chioh (a thick version of fermented soybean sauce)... nothing the animals recognised as food.

Can't say I'm a big fan of bittergourd either, so fortunately the dish wasn't for us. Packed with nutrients, June's culinary masterpiece was for the old folks we take food to once a month. To my surprise, it went down with them just fine, though out of the corner of my eye I spotted a couple of surreptitious food trades going on between some of our beneficiaries.

Meanwhile, M-i-L has taken receipt of our remaining stocks of bittergourd. I can just imagine what's on the menu for next week...!

To market

Out of curiosity, we visited Tg Pagar Wholesale Centre to see if we could pick up cheap vegetables for tomorrow's cookout. June was looking for bittergourd to experiment with -- the old folks are going to be her guinea pigs.

Apart from us human traffic in this huge market space, there are steel dollies, fork-lift trucks and bicycles transporting cartons and pallets of fresh veggies that we have to constantly dodge. But despite all this bustle, the wholesalers are by and large very friendly with us and are ready to offer advice and favourite recipes. We found out that the limes we picked to make lime juice were the wrong type -- big ones don't yield as much juice as the smaller dark green ones -- and only use sugar sparingly because it doesn't take as much as we think to make it palatable.

June got a recipe for her bittergourd along with some storage tips: if they're already ripe but you're only going to cook them tomorrow, cut them in half, remove the seeds and they will not become over-ripe when tomorrow comes. With that, the auntie sold us her entire stock of four remaining bittergourds for $2 the lot.

At the fruit section we discovered this melon, a shipment of which had apparently just come in. Upon inquiry, we were told that it was a Spanish melon (I couldn't get a better translation) and that it only makes an appearance once a year. How fortuitous for us to come a-visiting on this very day! $8 a fruit, thank you!

They weren't kidding. The inside is white, looks and tastes like winter melon, but so very sweet and juicy! Best eaten cold. Also, best shared with many people because this is not a fruit one can eat in quantity. The flavour is that rich.

Edit 1:

20 Sept 2010

We've been had! Turns out our Spanish melon is nothing more than a Spanish variant of the Chinese hami melon. They're selling it at Giant at $5.95 each. Welcome to another episode of 'Two Turnips Buying a Melon'.

Make them first!

S'poreans are not producing enough babies because, according to the DPM, we are waiting to achieve a 'perfect life' before we feel secure enough to make those adorable little copies of ourselves. His advice: make them first. Life will never be perfect anyway, so get on with it! This, of course, is hot on the heels of PM's recent national address in which the PM presented the same exhortation.

Look, I'm not against the making of babies. In fact, I'm all for making lots and lots of babies! It's a fantastic process, but what does one do with the end product? The responsibility of having to personally look after each one for 25 years of their natural lives is a more effective contraceptive than a rubber prophylactic soaked in a vat of industrial-strength spermicide.

Anyone want to discuss how we as a nation have become too responsible for own own good?

Zombie tsunami

The most successful video game turned movie franchise has to be Resident Evil. 'Afterlife' represents its fourth instalment, opening with Alice taking revenge on the Umbrella Corporation for unleashing the un-deadly T-virus on the world.

Being the only successful host of the T-virus, Alice has superhuman powers... and she remembers everything. By this time, she has evolved into an unstoppable force who has brought "friends" with her into Umbrella's Tokyo headquarters. Poor Umbrella security, it's a massacre.

The demolition of Tokyo could not have taken more than 20 minutes of screen time. There's a problem when the protagonist wipes away her antagonists so easily -- the conflict gets too easily resolved. It's all well and good to feature chicks with guns and katana and throwing stars mowing down the opposition, but there has to be an element of danger, or at least a chance of being defeated to maintain the audience's interest. Alice in her mutated state is not interesting at all. Not for long, anyway.

Fortunately, events transpire to revert Alice back to her human self for the remainder of the movie. Now she has to rely on her courage, wit and survival skills alone to stay alive. And now things get interesting. Hooking up with a handful of survivors in LA, she has to devise a plan to get them to safety -- a dubious-looking container ship off the coast offering infection-free refuge -- but they have to get through the entire undead population of LA to get there.

With the undead pounding on the gates of their fortress seeking the only fresh meat in the city, for Alice, Claire, Chris and company it's run and gun a la Left 4 Dead. The situation is completely hopeless, undead pouring through the survivors' last defences in a literal zombie tsunami. It takes great teamwork, ingenuity and impeccable timing to pull off some dramatic escapes. The weak and indecisive, however, are punished for their hesitation or unwariness with a swift and gory demise.

What I like about 'Afterlife' is that there is no hope of victory. No celebrations, no medals at the end, just a sense of breathless relief before the next insurmountable wave strikes again. This is one enemy that cannot be taken head-on, hence there is no dishonour in a fighting retreat. Escape and skin-of-the-teeth survival is the game, no illusions about that. Resting on one's laurels is fatal.

This idea resonates with us because this is how we experience life. Challenge after challenge, daunting odds, threats at every turn; it's all so overwhelming. We may wish for superpowers to help us cope, but there's no such thing. Instead, the more realistic option is to find the right friends who share the same goals. Watch each other's backs, move in the same direction and develop a near-telepathic teamwork that will accomplish what one cannot alone.

Such a struggle, life is. When do we ever get to rest? The answer is, as long as we want to stay alive, never. There's plenty of time to rest when we're dead.

I watched a play in Mandarin!

Had to go catch Theatre Practices' 'Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral' to see how the original production company envisioned this very difficult and abstract play that our own NYeDC produced a couple of Drama Nights back. For Mel and me, the biggest problem was that the whole play was staged in its original Mandarin instead of the English translation we were familiar with. We had to rely on the subtitles provided to get us through the night.

As best as I could figure, the set was the hold of a shipwreck from which ten survivors have to escape. They have no idea who they are or why they are there, only that some external force is playing some twisted games with them. In between survival games, the survivors entertain each other with their recollections of Zeng He, the Eunuch Admiral.

That they are stranded with nothing but the clothes on their backs is an excellent reason for them to rely on mime to help tell their stories. Hence, the stylized movement done with precision and care, simple, minimalistic and very clear. But that also was an odd thing because the publicity materials call this production a 'kinetic interpretation' but the visuals were mostly static. It was like pose - chunk of text - ensemble pose - more text - more posing - etc. As far as artistic direction went, it was more tableau than theatre.

It was a very well done tableau, though. The initial set was claustrophobic but opened up in various places to create new and surprising play spaces and levels. With the interaction of the performers, the beautifully coloured lighting design and a couple of other surprising effects that temporarily changed gravity and another that added a visual component to a change in weather conditions (trying to avoid spoilers here) it was like looking at a pretty talking picture book. Though we were totally reliant on reading subtitles, we didn't miss much action 'cos when we looked back at the stage it was usually the same image that we took our eyes off last.

This production wasn't much fun. The interpretation was deadly serious. If there was any attempt at humour, perhaps it was lost in the translation? But then the audience wasn't laughing either, so I guess not. Overall, an interesting visual experience, but impact was... meh. Not to make any comparisons, but suddenly I have the urge to dust off the video of our own performance and watch it again.

Malacca revisited: Day 3

Our home away from home -- Hotel Puri. We're back here because it's familiar, it's located right where the shopping is and though the rooms are a bit Spartan (oh, beware the hot water in the shower!!!) they are decently comfortable enough.

Because we woke up early, June and I walked over to look at the historical part of Malacca before repeating all the shopping madness of the previous day.

The ruins of St Paul's are the gutted remains of this historic edifice. We get a real sense of history looking at these burial slabs dating back hundreds of years inscribed in a text so alien to us today.

Our second attempt to sample the cendol at Jonker 88 failed again. We settled for Donald and Lily's cendol and laksa instead. Also not bad.

Mel found this great chill-out place just down the street from our hotel. The Baboon House is so unlike its name, so tranquil, cool and relaxed. Great for reading and (ahem) grading papers -- yes, that's what else we came to Malacca to do.

I realize that for this trip my camera didn't point at too many people. It's more for the food and the sights. So, for the record, apart from those already mentioned and/or photographed already, my travelling companions also included Amy, B-lo, Fen, Liz, HP, To*ny and Wendy A. Always a pleasure, guys!

Malacca revisited: Day 2

A couple of misses on this trip. We liked the cendol at Jonker 88 the last time we visited, but today we couldn't get past this crowd. The other miss was my much anticipated A&W root beer float which I could almost taste... but the service was so slow we had to leave to meet our bus just before my turn at the counter.

But there's no passing up Nancy's Kitchen for Peranakan food. Fish maw (her pio) soup behind the ayam buah keluak.

Kueh pie tee, light, crispy, savoury-sweet. There were other dishes as well, but eating always takes precedence to taking pictures.

Night time found us at the Geographers Cafe. Our orders were a crazy mix of international flavours and some smuggled-in street food as well.

Mmm... satay made with chunky chicken meat, still juicy not grilled to death. The gravy was a bit watered down though, so good thing the meat could hold its own without it.

In case you think we did nothing but eat, we also did stuff like strolling along the riverside for a view of the nightlife here.

And shop for souvenirs for my graduating kids. These are personalized wooden teddy-bear cut-outs made into fridge magnets. The shop is Home Sweet Home, Mahkota Parade, and they make other wall hanging products as well.

Malacca revisited, Day 1

Road trip to revisit old Malacca town. None of us wanted to drive up here ourselves so we chartered a 14-seater bus with driver. Our journey began in fits and stops. There were initial problems with the bus, but in the end the bus driver broke down and had to be replaced. Eventually we arrived, checked in and made a bee-line to this shophouse for lunch... chicken rice balls!

For the uninitiated, the chicken is in front and the rice balls are behind. There is actually no need to ball up the rice other than for its novelty value. And maybe to distinguish it from the Singapore variety which follows a similar recipe.

No pix from dinner at the Portuguese Settlement. Fingers too busy and too covered with viscera gravy to wield a camera. Returning here was quite an experience. As always, we got lost and took the scenic tour of Malaccan backroads before getting our bearings right. After a little spiffying up, the place is now overrun with seafood touts that surrounded us, each promising the best dining experience and 'no regrets'. Travellers tip: the longer you delay the more persistent they get; so just make a decision (Wayne arbitrarily chose Stall #6) and that was that. No further harassment, and true to their word, no regrets over the quality of the food.

Study techniques that work

Am temporarily making a note to link this NYT article on study techniques that work. Don't have time to sift through it right now, but I don't want to lose the URL 'cos it may be important, you never know.

You want fries with that?

At Everything with Fries (Holland V), it's hard to tell if the main course is the thing you ordered or the fries that accompany it. The cheeseburger I ordered was thick cut served with a standard fresh vegetable topping and a side Caesar salad, but all that only took up half the plate. The remaining half sat a pile of garlic and herb French fries in the midst of which perched a single garlic clove which suggested that their fries are done with authentic ingredients.

So the curry fries came fried in curry leaves and curry powder -- a very flavourful concoction, while the sour cream and onion and salt-and-vinegar combinations were thankfully subtle, not overpowering. Overpowering was Mel's lemonade which nearly bowled her over at the first sip. But that's the way Mel likes it, so no problem there.

Not so sure about the one egg soup Wendy A was raving about. It's a chicken stock soup with an egg yolk beaten into it; the remaining white is made into a soufflé raft  floating on top of the soup. It tasted oddly sweet and savoury -- an acquired taste, says Wendy.

We shared a Nutella tart for dessert which was sweet, sweet, omg sweet. Some things come too rich for my taste. I don't know how the others felt about it, but it disappeared quite quickly despite my not helping so much.

The Holland V outlet has great service staff. Ours was bright and chirpy, genuine in her responses, patient about our queries (Mel, Wayne and I arrived earlier than Amy, HP and Wendy so she had to endure lots of questions from us while we waited for the rest of our table to apparate). Overall, the atmosphere is clean, friendly and pleasant.

As to the amount of fries that went with everything, barring that it was a rather late lunch, I didn't need dinner. At all.

Mo' money blues

The way to S'porean hearts is through their bellyachin', especially about the sad, hard lives they live. And nothing gets S'poreans as riled up as the issue of National Service. So the PM announces in his NDay Rally speech that our citizen soldiery will receive a token of recognition for their contribution to national peace and security valued at at least $9000 each that will go towards funding their further education and ease the cost of home ownership. And predictably, the cries of anguish over our abuse and mistreatment rise to the heavens.

Old retired soldiers of Mr Brown's generation (including yours truly) are angsty that because we've already completed our service the award isn't meant for us:


The currently serving NS men are insulted at the paltry sum offered. By their calculations, they should be receiving at least 15 times as much. Yes, there's nothing like having an education and an Excel spreadsheet to make an unhappy army camper.

And S'porean women are upset too because for once they don't get it.

In S'pore there is so much peace and security we find no greater joy than in bitchin' over how our lives could be so much better. Sigh, if only we had mo' money, we'd be much happier people...!

National Dog Walk 2010

Q-tip's new summer look keeps getting her mistaken for a chihuahua, especially today at the National Dog Walk & Carnival 2010. Sad to say, because of the rain the venue was a swamp so we didn't stay long. We did, however, visit a stall run by a pair of enterprising college alumni designing and selling Tees (human sized). Part proceeds go to Action for Singapore Dogs (ASD). They have a blogshop, CHlittleshop, so go visit and support, 'k?

Since we were in the Sunset Way neighbourhood, we made a pit-stop at The Daily Scoop. But they only open at 1400 on Sunday, so lunch before dessert at June May's.

Interesting set lunch menu: lasagne and float. Here's the lasagne.

And here's the float. The iced lemon tea on the left is not part of the set.

A fission of givin'

A church raises $21 million within a 24-hour period. It's big news because of the recent public discussions over the amassed riches of organized religion, raising suspicion and alleging impropriety in the raising and disbursement of such monies by what are ostensibly non-profit organizations.

This story reminds me of the miracle of the five loaves and two fish recorded in the Gospels (Jn 6:5-6:15, etc.). The mystery of this miracle is in how limited quantities of matter (bread and fish) can be multiplied several times over to feed 5000 people, while leaving behind significant excess, without breaking the laws of Newtonain physics.

If that is the question, we are looking at the miracle in the wrong way. In a crowd of 5000, it is quite inconceivable that the only food resource among them is five loaves and two fish that only one boy had the presence of mind to take with him that day. If one boy could have packed a meal with him there'd be many others who'd have brought food along too. This boy, however, gets his place in canonical history because his offer to share his resources catalysed a mass movement of the "haves" to share their resources with the "have-nots". The miracle isn't about the violation of the laws of physics but in getting people to share what they have willingly with others, and that is no mean feat.

We can account for the excess gathered at the end of the feeding frenzy by the Principle of the Buffet Table. Because everyone has some they become polite and will settle for a little less just in case someone ends up with none. We can count this effect as either altruism or a sensitivity to "good form". Either way, the buffet table will always have left-overs. This effect is all the more likely to occur if the environment or event itself encourages civic consciousness or at least consideration for others.

Such an environment is palpable in CHC in which communal involvement is strongly emphasized among a very large and inclusive population base representing a wide range of mixed incomes. With the environment primed for placing others before self, it only takes a small catalyst to ignite a fission of givin'. $21 million in 24 hours? Is that all?

Celebrating us

In today's celebration of Education Professionals, the student body organized a concert tribute to us. All performances were dance items, including NYeDC's. Makes sense because in a large hall with poor acoustics the only things that will keep and hold our audience's attention are music, colour and movement. No one can follow a storyline under such conditions.

Our item was set to the Muppets' version of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' depicting various classroom interactions between students and different teacher personalities. Not strictly dance, more like mime and movement though we're still a bit rough at that.

The noobs who came on after us brought the house down, as I expected they would. They really showed that our staff aren't the stodgy no-lifers that we appear to be. They said they toned down some of the raunchiness from the staff dinner performance, but I don't remember seeing anything particularly tasteless then.

Spent the afternoon in good company. Lunch at Jones the Grocer where I finally found a place that offers pastrami sandwiches. Also ordered a cheese platter to share. The atmosphere here is very pleasant. Attentive wait staff always on hand with water refills and dish clearing. Expensive, though. Pastrami sandwich was more sandwich than pastrami. Though the bread was lovely and chunky and thick, I prefer the pastrami filling to be thicker than the bread slices holding the whole thing together. This is all Joey Tribbiani's fault for setting my expectations so unrealistically high!

In other madness, while Mel and Wendy A adjourned to parts unknown, the rest of us adjourned to Ben & Jerry's where we drank so much water Wayne had to justify the presence of so many shotglasses on our table. Here he attempts to build Dempsey Hill's tallest free-standing structure of dining crockery, setting the record at ten individual pieces in a stack. Amy's pix captures this historic moment (left). HP's wallet went missing; Josh displayed some dexterous sleight-of-hand in his vanishing act; To*ny displayed outstanding clumsiness in making said item reappear. Brilliant.

To all teachers working tomorrow on Teachers' Day... why?

The tiger in the tank

Some of the best teaching moments occur during individual consultation periods when the kids actually come with questions to discuss. I've learned my lesson about focusing my consults on content -- don't offer them any more than they themselves have offered already. Telling them what info they should have included here and there when they didn't have such info in the first place just demoralizes them and makes them feel like they're never going to catch up with the bar we keep raising.

More content isn't going to help, especially when it wasn't their content to begin with. My strategy from now is to focus on extending mileage on what information they already have, always with the caveat that in the interim between now and their finals there's still time to build up more content on their own.

I think that's the best strategy to take into the exam hall because that's exactly what they're expected to produce. The test is on maximizing what they have brought into the venue, that's it. There's nowhere else they can get more content from, not till they change the nature of the test anyway.

Some ground rules we established from today's discussion:

• Absolute #1 rule: Always tell the Truth -- don't know, don't write.
• Reasoning counts for more than content.
• Broad-based content produces more mileage than focused topical content.
• Content is flexible and the same content can be used to respond to many questions
• Good responses strongly link supporting content with question requirements.
• Argument always precedes balance, and not the other way around.
• Every question must be taken on its own merit. There is no "aren't I supposed to...?" If the question does not ask for it, don't.
• Time taken to analyse question requirements is better use of time than planning (or worse, committing to) a response without first knowing what the question wants.

No particular order of importance, though. It's not a process but guidelines to keep in mind. Yes, very common-sense, but a guided-analytical approach is far better than the panic-vomit approach.

It was particularly enlightening when a kid asked me to analyse an Economics question because she didn't understand why her interpretation was deemed wrong by both her own mates and the Econs tutor. I told her to use the GP method of analysing questions on this one. She was dubious at first, but a lightbulb went on as she proceeded. Now she could clearly see what the question wanted and why her answer was so far off base.

Arby always remarks how the kids don't seem to think when they approach questions in his subject. Perhaps they didn't have the right tools and the know-how to use them correctly in the first place. Ladies and gentlemen, today we might have made a breakthrough! Hope this time it has longer legs.

The Rambo and Friends Show

In 'The Expendables', Stallone rounds up the venerable action heroes of yesteryear and throws them all into his latest celluloid outing. Snipes is missing, though. Guess even they couldn't arrange a jailbreak for him.

The story is nonsense. Stallone's small group of mercenaries get hired to take out a Banana Republic Generalissimo for an offer of cash, but they find another reason to do the job for free like the true-blue all-American good guys they are. Even Li. The story, as we know, is just an excuse for pitting one action hero against another using fists and feet, blades, guns, vehicles and explosive ordnance, as far as the alliances between them can stretch the boundaries of credibility.

But there's the fun, isn't it? Who cares much about plot in a movie that promises action and delivers spectacle? On the cards: Lundgren vs Li; Stallone vs Austin; in a handicap match Statham vs a bunch of recreational b-ball players; Statham vs Rourke in knife throwing action; eh, and the other tough guys who are unfamiliar to me off-hand don't get all that much air time (maybe that's why they're called the Expendables?). Real big-time stars like Willis and Ah-nold show up too, though they get cameo roles in which they talk tough and leave.

In typical boy fashion, Stallone and Co take down an entire nation, ruining it's political infrastructure; internal security and air-defence forces; economic and industrial capabilities (main export appears to be cocaine); and it's primary imp-ex facility (a single docking pier). Why boy fashion? If Stallone had just asked nicely, I'll bet all this senseless destruction and mayhem and the occasional expendable (small 'e') disintegrating in a shower of gore and gibs could have been avoided. But then, with his mumble, even if he did ask nicely nobody would have understood him anyway. Out come the guns again.

Yeah, I needed to watch a mindless, testosterone-heavy, male-bonding action flick. It's marking season, don't you know? Let the blood-letting begin!


Via: Term Life Insurance

Sacrifice of dignity

Combined schools dinner time again. Every year our family of schools gather to congratulate each other over a formal Chinese dinner and sit through the evening's entertainment. This year, the Big Wee Man himself presided over the festivities and came over personally to offer a toast to each table. That's an honour we don't get every day.

Very proud of our newbies. Every year (apart from a couple of notable exceptions) it's the obligation of the new blood to offer an item for the showcase of performances. Consider this sacrifice of dignity as their initiation ceremony into their new place of occupation.

Our noobs delivered a double-bill, the first inspired by Stomp ('live' percussion performance group, not official Singaporean tattletale/complaints website) and the second a dance number to 'Bad Romance' which was a hoot-and-a-half. Coordinated zombie jerky movements choreographed to bad, loud music. Can't fail! Really looking forward to their encore performance in Tuesday's concert back on campus. The kids deserve to end their special day on a high.

Trapped for months

I'm not one to make light of a bad situation, but being trapped in a collapsed mine for four months waiting for rescue sounds like a great way to take a vacation off work. Especially when my rescuers are taking care of my nutrition, entertainment and potty needs -- i.e., everything they can to keep my morale up so that I wouldn't develop claustrophobic bonkers syndrome and kill all my fellow survivors around me. Books, video games and all the antidepressants I can eat for four months. Tempting.

Mom's green thumbs

The frangipani stem June and I brought back from Hawaii as a souvenir for Mom finally bloomed. We're talking about a trip that even pre-dates this blog, so yeah, it was worth a photo.

Pix taken by Mom and sent via Bluetooth in a cell phone to cell phone transfer. First time for Mom, and she's quite proud of herself about it.

In a sad coincidence Mom's minor celebrity neighbour sold his house recently, and the new owner chopped down the beautiful frangipani tree growing in the garden. It and a couple of other large plants were in pieces on the sidewalk waiting for the next garbage pick-up. Why can't the new owners just move in to the existing premises without uprooting the other residents who have just as much right to be there?

Mom picked up a promising couple of branches off the sidewalk, hoping to regrow them in her garden. If our twig transplanted from Hawaii could thrive till today, these have a fighting chance to live on. We're counting on Mom's green thumbs to work that miracle.