Still walking

Picked up "The Walking Dead: The Game" from Telltale Games. I've been following the gripping, gritty series on TV and wanted to know if the PC game version really deserved the Spike VGA Game of the Year 2012 accolade.

TWD:TG is an episodic point-and-click survival-horror-adventure game. Using the mouse, you trawl the screen looking for clickable 'hotspots' that provide information; dialogue; the occasional side snide comment or an interactive element. There are five episodes so far and all are currently available for download as a package.

This story is set just before the lead character, Sheriff Rick Grimes, awakens from his coma at the beginning of the TV series. In the game, you play Lee Everett, an African-American ex-college professor with a history he regrets. The emotional hook comes in the form of Clementine, a little girl, presumably orphaned during the chaos, whom Everett meets and decides to care for.

Apart from the forced choice of adopting Clementine, the game leaves lots of room for the player to make other choices which stick, changing the outcome of the game. Non-player characters (NPCs) remember their dialogues with you and they note your decisions, which determine how they will respond to you in future interactions. Many of these choices are hard: whom do you side in the frequent arguments that flare up due to the stress and pressure -- and self-preservation responses -- that the other characters experience? How do you negotiate with strangers who hold as much menace as promise? Be pragmatic or compassionate? How will your choices affect your relationship with Clementine and the others in your group?

If you've been watching the TV series, you can feel the pain the characters are going through, living day to day as they do. But in the game, it's not so easy when you have to make those decisions in first person and have to live with what you've done because once your choice is made, it's irrevocable. These choices are not what you can ponder long over as there is a timer that will make a choice for you if you don't decide quickly enough, and that sticks too. Some of your choices hold people's lives in the balance and if they die they stay dead... unless they reanimate and try to chew your face off.

Telltale has innovated quite intelligently with the point-and-click adventure genre. Whether it's finding a target area to hit (especially difficult if you don't set your mouse sensitivity properly) or making a split second decision because there's no time to think, yet balancing that with maintaining a consistent character and a healthy relationship with Clementine and the group, you really feel the tension of the situation. And knowing that the story compels you to complete a series of mundane tasks that will trigger some horrific occurrence as your payoff, well, there's good pacing for you.

Glad the game has eschewed photorealism in favour of animating the comic book version of the story. In a way, it's going back to its roots. The voice acting sounds true to character so despite the cartoony graphics, you still feel like you're interacting with real people. And when you lose people for one reason or another, sometimes you do miss the voice you can no longer hear.

Game of the year? Considering that the production values and gameplay mechanics are not as polished as the big-budget offerings, VGA has taken a stand to honour the indie publisher for strength and depth of immersion in an intense story experience over games that involve long-term grinding. These days, I prefer short, satisfying games over games that play out over hours seemingly without end (like the previous game of the year, "Skyrim" which I never completed -- may not even be half-way through!). So, yeah, odd, brave choice, but one that I can support.

Love and the Singaporean

What's up with all these sex scandals surfacing thick and fast in the media this year? Teachers, principals, uni profs, senior civil servants and parliamentarians: respectable people all, yet publicly disgraced because of some indiscretion causing the affair to be outed for the moral majority to tut-tut over.

Can we really be so shocked that people in our midst would jeopardize promising careers and social standing over some illicit hanky-panky? Perhaps these cases are an indication that our puritanical state is starting to show cracks in the facade we've so meticulously maintained until now and we're finally seeing that biology is a much stronger force than we thought we could control.

Romantic love washes the brain over with a cocktail of chemicals that messes up the logical thought process. The feel-good sensations one experiences when one is in love encourages living for the moment; the sense that nothing else matters; and -- most importantly -- reckless, risk-taking behaviour. Hence, people with the most to lose are also likely to be the biggest risk-takers regarding matters of the heart.

Here, I'm confused because on the one hand our population is suffering a baby-dearth while on the other, we're criminalizing behaviour that gives rise to more babies. Could this strange dichotomy be at the heart of our population problem -- that the people we marry are not the ones we are in love with?

Before you overreact, let's think about the common Singaporean courtship ritual. It's planned, organized, structured. The proposal comprises making plans to purchase public housing for the couple; the wedding is a programmed event that follows a generally predictable order of must-dos scheduled to the second; child-bearing brings a new round of planning; while child rearing likewise follows a narrow, set pathway or bust.

If love is reckless and encourages risk, the Singaporean marriage pact is hardly that. Without allowing room for the chaos of romantic love, the Singaporean couple isn't likely to change its plans regardless of whatever "baby bonus" is thrown at it. And if wild, crazy romantic love isn't found in a Singaporean household, is it so surprising that dissatisfied partners may be finding it elsewhere, in more dangerous places, with more disastrous consequences?

Only mad dogs and Englishmen...

Took a stroll around the Marina Bay area simply because the sun was shining. As I soaked in solar rays, I could feel the symptoms of various maladies melt away. Staying indoors in a sedentary job sometimes requires the occasional venture outside to blink at the brightness of the day.

Here's a view of the Bay I've never beheld before. The new boardwalk almost completely encircles the bay and if not for how solar-averse our population is, it would remind me of beautiful Sidney Harbour. Well, that was my impression, anyway. Odd being a tourist in your own country.

In other news, Doc Nair agrees that Maui's bladder health is improving. The silly boy provided his own evidence.So scared he is of the vet that he peed in his carrier... more pee than I've ever seen him produce in a long time. Bath time when I got him home, which necessarily meant a shower for me too, new scratches and a ruined T-shirt to show for it.

System upgraded

Cybermind is currently offering a 25% discount on MSI Intel mainboard packages. That's an offer I couldn't refuse -- despite what I said earlier about upgrading Mr L33t. Shelled out just over a grand for an i7-based system, 8 gigs RAM and a GTX660Ti video processor. Nice.

The old parts are going to become my in-house project: upgrading the living room antique Win XP-running PC to be compatible with the first decade of the 21st century at least. I've never put together a whole system from scratch, so wish me luck on this one. I'm sure I kept the manuals around someplace... hmm.

What's my beef?

McD's new BLT quarter-pounder with cheese. Good idea putting fresh veggies in the burger. Too bad about the fake bacon. Hence, special order: LT no B.

De-rezzed

I'm peeved and slightly demoralized at this moment. Nearly all the pix I've uploaded here have been wiped out by the closure of Webshots, my once-faithful host. Only the ones on Google+ are still accessible, though I only started using G+ recently so not many. Who knows what it's gonna take to replace those old shots, or even if I really want to do that? What a pain!

(Not quite) Jack of all trades

Jack Neo can make light family drama; social satire and even some verbal comedy, but please do not let him make a war movie. Ever. The opening sequences of "Ah Boys to Men" depicted our beloved home city under attack by enemy forces. Neo went whole hog with the digital explosions and debris-littered ruins of once familiar local landmarks. I suppose our armed forces saw this movie as an opportunity to show off some of the latest military hardware in action. But the on-screen violence was a gratuitous pastiche of bangs, blood and... bad gags. There's too much showing off of the studio's spfx capabilities, but not much focus on what's holding the shots together. Yes, it's a case of trying too hard to wear too many hats that the narrative credibility just falls apart.

Besides, the unidentified OPFOR has no apparent objective. The logistics it brings to bear suggest a conventional invasion, but the tactics and doctrine are that of terrorists on a suicide mission. Taking out civilian targets and civilians themselves on the ground first, while leaving military response bases able to mobilize against the threat practically guarantees a short campaign. Yet, the sequence ends with no clear resolution. The invasion is still in progress, both sides are losing combat-capable troops then, abruptly, a new story begins. Even as propaganda, the pointless introduction fails. While it does set the tone for what turns out to be an emo "Army Daze" remake, the initial emotional impact is dulled by out-of-place humour and a poorly executed montage of people randomly trading shots with each other with various types of ordnance, collateral damage notwithstanding.

Fortunately, the rest of the movie -- which actually involves family drama; social satire and light verbal comedy -- plays to Neo's strengths. Apart from tracing the lead character's journey from Ah Boy to Man through his misadventures in Basic Training, the movie was also a nostalgic comparison of training philosophies past and present. Back then, it was a civilian ARMY; whereas now it is a CIVILIAN army. These sequences I can believe because we've all been there and they're part of our collective consciousness.

Neo again goes for the moralistic approach in the debate that follows: Priority to self, or priority to nation, the answer being pretty obvious. While exploring the humour that goes with various methods employed by malingering conscripts to escape training, ultimately selfish choices lead to nasty consequences that have an impact on wider society. That story of a boy's learning to take responsibility for his actions, though melodramatic, is clear. Though what he does with this new found responsibility is a lot less clear because of the sudden...

TO BE CONTINUED

Crowning achievement

It's been like a month of playing a chess game where the pawn finally makes it to the other side of the board and gets crowned. The crown isn't what I expected, however. Instead of a ceramic facsimile that blends seamlessly with my other choppers, I got a gun-metal grey armour-plate that's clearly alien to my dental infrastructure. If I didn't look avuncular already, I certainly do now.

I also got some of my other teeth ground down flatter, so where there used to be edges and ridges, now there are plateaus. I know the procedure is supposed to help even out my bite, but I miss the character each tooth used to have. It feels like I've suddenly become herbivorous but that is, of course, just perception. Give me a couple of days to recover and I'll be back hunting for a mammoth steak, served so juicy rare that ketchup is optional.

In the fridge is a 2 litre canister of milk which, I believe, through copious consumption will speed up recovery and get me my edge back.

Next appointment: six months' time. Great! I've had enough of the dentist's chair for a long while.

Withdrawal

Goodness! What is the repair shop doing with my S3? I sent it in a week ago due to charging problems. The battery would drain quickly, but take forever to charge. Intolerably long, anyway. They said three to five working days. At the close of today, it's been seven and counting.

How difficult a job could it be? Test battery and charger. Replace defective component. Return rectified unit to mobile addict. Everybody happy. But, no... still waiting. Grrr.

In the meantime, I've revived my primitive F480 for basic daily use. No Android, no iOSx, no mobile connection to the 'net. No instant photo upload to Google+, so no daily photos to inspire random, pointless blog entries.

#s3withdrawalsymptoms

Dog eat dog

Public reaction to the new policy of not publishing the names of the top students in the PSLE is understandably divided. But the change is only cosmetic, considering the deeper issues underlying the problem.

If we genuinely celebrated the success of our best and brightest, then there would be a reason to publish their names for everyone to see. Unfortunately, the greater majority of us is more likely to see those names as not belonging to us and are therefore an indictment of our own failure. Yes, even though we passed and got to where we needed to go, because our names aren't spelled out in neon lights we feel like what we have accomplished is hardly good enough.

But now when we choose not to reveal those names, the problem doesn't get solved so much as it is now driven underground. Without transparency, nobody is going to know what the highest scores are and everybody is going to feel like a failure as we are more likely to rue our own inadequacies rather than celebrate our own achievements.

This very narrow band that we perceive as 'success' is probably the root of S'porean discontent. We're told that life is a competition and only the most deserving 'win', while the rest... well, actually no one has ever said what happens to the rest other than eternal suffering and damnation. So, because most of us fall in the category of The Rest, we're living the life we deserve. Self-fulfilling prophecy, S'pore style.

Indeed, life is a competition. The fit, the strong survive; the weak are prey. I will not dispute that axiom. Our mistake is taking on the competition as a solo player. We view everybody as a competitor for the same prize. Whether it's 'foreign talent', the kids that hail from the elite schools, or even our own classmates, everyone who is not us we see as capable of putting a knife into our exposed back.

That's how we've been playing this education game -- and its expansion pack: 'Life of the Working Adult'. Our biggest dream is to discover the key that activates GOD mode, and our biggest frustration is discovering that there is none. In this game, the solo player is screwed.

The true key to winning this game is to play in co-op mode. The trick is to identify friends from enemies, and more importantly to realize that under a common threat, even enemies can be friends.

If we trace our current societal problems back through the school circuit, this is where our schools have let us down badly. Above the passing of exams which we are very good at teaching, this is the one lesson we never passed on to our kids. We let our kids grow up thinking everybody is an enemy, or at least a scheming competitor. Not exactly the foundations of a rock-solid cohesive society, is it?

Dogs hunt in packs and share the spoils. Single, solitary dogs are the spoiled ones that are hand-fed by their indulgent owners and growl protectively over their meagre possessions. In a dog-eat-dog world, which breed of dog is the more likely to survive? Are you, fellow S'porean, bred to hunt for yourself; or to be fed by whomever you think owns you?

Sweet nothing

"Oh, baby, whisper sweet nothings into my ear...!" Ok, some context before you get the wrong idea: there's a thunderstorm going on outside and the two boys have gone into hiding. This here compromising situation is more a game of "sardines" than a surreptitious smooch under the radar. At least, that's what I prefer to think.

Ooga booga booga

Not much happening. The dripping has ceased but the boy isn't quite out of the woods yet. He's still straining at the sandbox and tomorrow we'll find out how he copes without medication. Meanwhile, he's still behaving as normal. He eats, he jumps and he sleeps just like the cat he's been. And now, he's just looking goofy for the camera.

Input equals output

M-i-L brewed a chrysanthemum concoction that she swears will allieviate Maui's urinary problems. It's worked on her human 'patients' before, so it's got to work on cats too.

I can't help feeling a little skeptical of the claim. There is a superstitious association in that the colour of the brew happens to be the same colour as pee, hence input is equivalent to output. Secondly, the fact that people are imbibing larger-than-usual amounts of the brew is probably what is causing the increased outflow at the toilet.

That, of course, is my logical brain at work. The emotional part of me is grateful that more people are taking an interest in doing something to help the boy. And save our floor and furniture from the ghastly yellow peril that follows him wherever he goes. Ew.

Some assembly required

dNYel goes on retreat and we get an expensive toy to put together. This is not the Lego I grew up with. The Lego I remember comprised simple blocks of varying shapes and sizes, though nothing approaching this level of complexity. The manual for this Rhino truck equivalent contained 76 pages of plans and looked not a little daunting at first glance.

Amazingly, the steering wheel really controls the front wheels; the doors open and close; and the lights light up at the flip of a switch... or at least they did for a while, until the batteries ran out, or something.

Building something this complex in the time we had was quite a feat of cooperative work. With a personnel strength of nine at the table, and without prior discussion of resource allocation, the group divided itself into an assembly team and a resource-gathering team and worked furiously to complete the task. None of us would have been happy to leave it partially assembled. It was a matter of pride and an internal assurance that it could be done in time that motivated the effort.

Of course, there was a lot more on today's agenda. The year may be over, but there's a staggering amount of prep that we have to get done for next year. With major personnel redeployments; the pressure of rising expectations; and a brand new year to do better what we did the year before, the team's got to pull together and simply get the job done.

I have a sense that collaboration is the name of the game for 2013. Good. It's the same game the kids will be playing too.

So ready to come home

The boy is so ready to come home. I wish I could say he's completely cured, but the vet is taking a wait and see approach. It's a delicate balance of medications he's been put on. The anti-inflammatory dosage is up 50% and he has to take a quarter tablet of valium a day. How did my cat end up being prescribed valium before me? It's a muscle relaxant. 'nuff said.

He has one week to get better, or else when we see Kasey next week, we'll be discussing surgery. Worst case scenario. I'm not convinced this is the best option, though. It sounds too drastic and permanent. The websites that I've been researching suggest that a stress-free environment and a change of dry food to canned food (bought nine cans of prescription canned food from the vet) might relieve the problem. Well, let's see...

The pre-coronation

Had my pre-crown appointment. First the temporary filling was filed away, then I had to bite down on two moulds (which tasted like chewing gum) from which my permanent crown will be cast. Some time during the procedure, I felt around the gap with my tongue and felt the cuboid peg that had been installed right in the middle of the tooth. I also had some of the sharp edges of the surrounding teeth filed smooth, presumably so the crown will eventually fit better. The final part of the procedure was to cover the gap with a tooth-shaped plastic cap that probably fitted into the peg like a Lego brick. Only two weeks left to wait until my official coronation.

Dentist offered to straighten out my front teeth. I said I'll think about it.

Not a happy camper

Poor Maui. Confined in a cage; one tube sticking out his butt end; another sticking out his foreleg; and having to wear the Cone of Shame, the boy is not a happy camper. Before I arrived to visit, he wasn't eating. The techs told me he was quite fierce with them, which really is unusual for his temperament. He's such a sweetheart under normal circumstances. I agreed to help feed him.

While he was receptive to my petting, he still wasn't interested in his food. Not immediately, anyway. It took a lot of reassurance and a constant head rub until he finally wolfed down the two dishes that were his noms. Medication immediately followed: 1 ml anti-inflammatory in syrup form.

Compared to the horrifying liquid they drained from him yesterday (Nair showed me the container), his fluids are looking a lot more normal today. A good sign, but he's still going to have to stay hospitalized for at least another day. Hope I'll be up to visiting him again tomorrow.

The Prince and the pee

Spoke too soon about Maui's symptoms. Pee droplets appearing all over the floor -- and furniture (and clothes) again! Washing machine and dryer working overtime. Doubt we're going to be entertaining visitors any time soon. Or if we do have visitors, doubt they'll want to be entertained for long.

Immediate Rx: hospitalized him with Dr Kasey over the next few days for treatment and observation. Kasey has fitted him with a catheter and cleared the blocked tubes the x-ray revealed. Feeding, hydration and medication from now will be medically supervised until we can bring him home.

Yes, this is the other side of pet ownership that isn't glam and cute, but it has to be done nonetheless.

Castles in the air take shape in the sand

It's the post-exam period and the kids are getting a bit of a break from regular classes. This bunch is being groomed as future leaders so they've come to take some practical life lessons at Castle Beach, ECP. The sand sculpture in the foreground is a sample.

Instructor, Alvin, briefs the kids on the programme: Plan, Build, Sell. Personal note: I've never met a motivational speaker I liked. They always rub me the wrong way. This one is no exception. 'nuff said.

Some of the plans that emerged for the sand city the kids were supposed to build were ambitious and elaborate. One of the lessons they learned was to follow through on the vision regardless of difficulty, not settle for second-best which, apparently, they did.

Oh, well. At least they had fun.

Digging in

Root canal #2 went in really deep. Hurts more the second time around. The scraping I got used to from the first time, but in this instalment Doc Chan had to jam filling material right inside the tooth raising the pain bar a bit higher. Right now I can feel something like a screw or reinforcing strut in there and I don't know if I will ever be able to ignore the irritation.

The good news is that the new temporary crown has been sculpted to look and feel like the original tooth, and the surface texture feels smoother than the old one. I'm not done yet, however. Am looking forward to my pre-coronation next week. In the meantime, I hope I can graduate from porridge and mashed bananas to more substantial food real soon.

Jailbreak

The irrepressible Maui is quite the Houdini. Confinement is really not his thing. Locked up, he cries so loudly we worry that the neighbours will call an investigation into possible animal abuse. Regardless, he's figured out how to escape his prison. Either he's strong enough to pull the heavy glass shower door open by himself, or his shadowy protector (background) has been breaking him out from the outside. Never mind. His symptoms are subsiding so he's entitled to his freedom once again.

Prisoner of circumstance

Poor Maui is confined to the spare shower stall, along with his food and water dishes, a floor mat and his own personal sandbox. His Guantanamo Bay experience is hopefully temporary, that is until he can overcome his incontinence problem. Vet Nair guesses that Maui has been under stress and isn't drinking enough water, thus contracting a urinary tract infection.

His problem explains the little droplets of moisture we found all over the living room floor since yesterday. But it was only when I carried him for a playful noogie that I realized how damp my hand had become all of a sudden. Ew.

Nair shot him up with two weeks' worth of antibiotics, but he still has to take a daily syrup by syringe. To encourage him to drink more water, we're starting him off by filling his dish with pet milk, which he likes and will drink. Overnight, we'll change the milk for water and see if that works.

There is only one suspect as to who has been stressing out Maui: Pebbles. The two boys really do not get along well at all. Pebbles has since been banished, sent back to the tender loving hands of M-i-L who now has to look after him when May is away. Pebbles is now felinae non grata in our house. Sorry, May. :'(

Not the whole tooth

After a day to calm down from the initial shock, a more objective assessment of the damage is that it isn't as bad as I had imagined. Although I gave up the old molar for lost, it actually is still mostly there... except for about a quarter that's been temporarily filled in with spackle or whatever they're using. That would explain why when the dentist tried to show me the fragment that she'd extracted -- fell out, more like -- I was all like, "where's the rest?" to which all I got in reply was a mystified look.

The temporary crown has the consistency of sandpaper, though, and because it's the most unusual thing in my mouth, my tongue is rubbing itself raw on its surface. :p

Unexpected procedure

This really is an update on today's post, but it deserves a spot of its own. Funny how things turn out. First you comment that instinct is telling you to save a grand, later fate tells you you're gonna have to spend two.

Perhaps I should have taken the bosses up on their lunch offer, but I decided to eat alone. Halfway through lunch, there was a loud 'crack' inside my head. I thought I'd crunched a bone shard, but my tongue found a sharp edge where I once would have felt a molar. That wasn't good. The finger probe went in next and drew out blood. That really wasn't very good. Broken tooth, no doubt.

Did a Google search on my S3 and found a few dentistries in my immediate area. The first was closed for lunch. Fortunately, though the second was also closed for lunch, the duty dentist was still on hand to look at my emergency.

I had big plans when I woke up this morning. But in the afternoon, my mouth was numb and drooly and I was having an unexpected root canal treatment to save what was left.

I'd heard about root canal, and it usually isn't described as a pretty picture. Here, there were charts pinned to the wall explaining everything. The consent form they had me sign listed some possible horror scenarios that could occur though the dentistry absolves itself from liability for any such eventuality. Tools breaking off inside the tooth requiring further surgery, for example, or infections setting in if the patient was negligent in following after-care procedures. None of this information is helping me settle my mind that I'M HAVING ROOT CANAL!!! But I know I will regret not seeking treatment more, so I sign consent.

Anesthesia numbs, yet there's still feeling where you don't want it. But the procedure went tolerably well and I didn't die of pain or other complications like I thought I would. In the gap, now there's a temporary crown that feels more like a blob of hard, dried putty where there once was smooth enamel. I bought a couple of painkillers for when the anesthesia wears off, but it's worn off and I don't feel the need to take them. There is a mild, throbbing sensation at the moment, but no real pain. Perhaps my brain is still hopped up on oxytocin and assorted endorphins, naturally produced through positive emotional stimulus, such as through scrolling pix of lolcats, etc.

Dinner was a sad affair of soft foods: a triumvirate of medium-sized whipped potato from KFC, washed down with a delectable corn soup from MOS Burger. Looks cheap, but altogether costs more than a regular meal at either one of those places.

Today's treatment set me back over $400, while the entire series was quoted at two grand, barring complications. Hopefully, June's corporate insurance can help me recover some of the cost, but certainly not all of it. Poor Mr L33t will so have to wait another year for upgrades.

If it ain't broke (but I am)

I really wanted to fork out a grand on a complete overhaul of Mr L33t's system. This after a year of procrastination. I had already researched what I figured was the best motherboard-cpu-RAM and video card package for what I was willing to pay... and didn't go through with it.

The same reason for holding back is exactly the same reason from last year: there's nothing wrong with him. He's decently fast; gets all my work done without breaking a sweat; and for the record I've defeated Diablo 3 on Inferno mode (the hardest before Hardcore where death is permanent) with my Monk character -- on a four-year-old PC. He's even up to handling my D3 Inferno farming runs at Monster Power [level] 2, though I simply have no patience to increase MP levels any further.

I may yet go through with the upgrade sooner or later. It's a consumer inevitability. But not today, not while a cooler head rules and the wallet is tight.

Spot this!

GP 2012 was a bag of mixed nuts. Let's see what questions I can recall (in no particular order):

• Something about the functionality and beauty of math.
• Something about the value of preserving the world's minority languages.
• The protection of animal rights in your society.
• Can violence be justified?
• Should technology be used for financial gain?
• Is the economy the criteria for good governance?
• Can humour be serious?
• Something about the donation of "suitable" organs after we die... though I can't imagine why I would want to donate UNsuitable organs at any time.

And four others that probably left no impression on me.

I do recall my first response being that if the kids prepared themselves by "spotting questions", good luck to them. These questions appreciate a broad, current coverage of material, and can be a lot of fun to write as they present a nice range of thought-provoking assumptions. But then, those who rely more on a cut-and-paste approach would hardly find this exercise fun at all.

For my colleagues who like to identify "patterns" and "trends" in essay question setting, the vibe I'm picking up from today's experience is that the paper is being designed to be less predictable. Guess Cambridge is getting tired of our cookie-cutter essays and is hoping to encourage more originality of composition -- for the sake of their own sanity, if anything.

Over on Paper 2, the discussion was music and its function in society. Even if we don't raise the subject of music much in class, hopefully the kids do listen to some music and can talk about that... though extending from the individual perspective to the social perspective is what they realize they have to do. *keeps fingers firmly crossed

Ah, well, it's over. Whatever the kids did, we hope and we pray that it was enough.

The name's Little, Chicken Little

After "Skyfall" can anybody really justify why 007, James Bond, is still on the British taxpayers' payroll?

Warning: SPOILERS follow

Let's do a run-down of the events that occur in this installment:

1. Save Agent Ronson's life -- Ronson dies
2. Retrieve stolen laptop hard disk -- gets hit by friendly fire, target escapes
3. Goes on unauthorised three-month vacation -- MI6 gets blown up
4. Reports back for duty -- fails every field agent test in the book
5. Captures Silva -- Macao contact killed
6. Holding Silva -- Silva escapes
7. Protect British public -- subway disaster; Wesminster gets heavily shot up
8. Protect M -- Bond ancestral home, "Skyfall", blown to smithereens; M doesn't make it
9. Receive M's legacy -- gets M's favourite paperweight... and new boss is Lord Voldemort himself!

So, did Bond even get one thing right in this story? No wonder they say civil servants live off an iron ricebowl.

Kicking the last chicks out of the nest

Just three more hours and the Class of 2012 will be out of my hair, preferably for good. Their good too, not necessarily mine. This post-prelim exam period has been one of the most strenuous I've ever had with my consultation slots booked nearly solid over the last couple of weeks. Only a couple of cancellations, but empty slots get quickly filled up with other takers on the unofficial waiting list. I don't remember ever being this popular with my previous batches.

The actual paper is due this coming Monday, but I'm drawing the consults to a close here and now. Their success is heavily dependent on their independence so they have a few remaining days to prep themselves. The hard part for me, of course, is letting them go trusting that I've tutored them enough -- which is something I can never reassure myself of. But at this late stage of the game, it'll have to do.

I end with three kids I haven't seen at all through this period. Must remind myself that because they've left it so late, I must reinforce, not contradict; assure, not freak them out. Whatever they have to offer today will have to be enough for Monday.

USS Halloween Horror Nights 2

A little better strategy is in order if we want to enjoy this event at USS more next year.

Time: 2000-0100 hrs is too short to do everything, so despite the temptation to ride the coasters we have to be more focused on the specially themed attractions, even if it means forgoing our favourite rides.

Crowd: the place is swarming with merry-makers who create great atmosphere for the event, but also unfortunately make the lines for the rides and everything else very long. We waited about an hour to get on the Battlestar Galactica (Cylon) and another on The Mummy Returns. And that was all the time we had as upon exit from the Egyptian Necropolis, it was nearly 0000 hrs already.

Lockers: in crowded situations like this one, the time spent waiting and riding will invariably exceed the lockers' grace period and you have to pay the machine in order to get your stuff out of it. It gets difficult when all your belongings including wallet containing cash, NETS and credit card are locked in the locker as you are not permitted to ride with loose items in your pockets. For cash transactions, exact amount only, no change is given -- we found out a bit too late. For both rides, we ended up spending $18 on the lockers alone. Grr.

Food: we purchased the theme dinner at KT's Bar and Grill (on of the restaurants in USS). It was a three-course meal including a choice of baby pork ribs (above) and duck (below). The ribs were succulent and tender, likewise the duck. The theme decorations turned out cuter than the picture in the menu promised, but it was good eating anyway. There seemed to be a bit of a kerfuffle over the question of whether we had purchased the meal vouchers online, but it was only because online orders apparently received a complementary fruit punch, a nice surprise for us...

like so.

But back to strategy: the food was fabulous and reasonably priced ($28+++ per pax) but to start serving at 2000 hrs... well, the one hour we enjoyed eating was also one hour's headstart on the rides for everyone else who had nommed earlier elsewhere.

Parking: the one thing that worked for us was a last minute decision. Because parking was so limited at Vivocity, we detoured to park at the Beach car park on Sentosa. $3 entrance + $2 parking = $5 total. Even though the monorail ended service at midnight, it was a short and pleasant stroll back to the beach from USS to get M2 back.

Conclusion: to really enjoy ourselves, spend more money. Buy a day pass to ride coasters all day long, upgrade to stay for the night's activities and fork out for a universal express pass for faster (than normal) access to the attractions. Carry only a credit card and your smartphone (useful as a camera and for contacting separated party members) in a secured pocket, leave all other miscellaneous barang-barang in the car.

P.S.: To infer that we didn't enjoy the experience is not accurate. The creepy music and sound effects relentlessly permeating the entire theme park added atmosphere to the main street that was divided into sections by theme. From the House of Dolls at the entrance, to the post-apocalyptic urban cityscape, to the Mummy-cursed streets of ancient Egypt populated with ghouls and zombies popping up to scare random passers-by, USS really did take a lot of trouble to get the environment perfect for Halloween. All I'm saying is, next year, we go with a better plan to maximize the time allotted.

USS has dedicated staff. This forlorn ghoul guards the door of the closed gift shop. No one gets in regardless of how badly they want to buy a souvenir.

A celebration of "Decade-nce"

Congrats to Jo and Derek who are celebrating their 10th anniversary with a luncheon at The Wine Company. This rather unflattering pix shows one table of us colleagues all busy stuffing our faces.

The menu was pretty decent, starting with a seafood bisque that was rich in crabby flavour. The pix shows us chowing down on the Caesar salad topped with crabmeat. The main course was a thick slab of fillet mignon which I was looking forward to. I ordered rare but it was served done on the more... conservative interpretation of the word, shall we say? Dessert was a baked Camembert which was nothing I'd expected in generosity -- a whole wheel of Camembert baked over apple slices in a caramel sauce. The whole thing was thick and melty, and so good. But there was no way I could eat another. One serving was quite enough.

It was fortuitous to be at this particular table as we were short of one diner, which meant more food for the rest of us since the number had already been catered for and we didn't want be responsible for any wastage.

The event itself was quite an easy-going affair. Jo renewed her vows in the style of "Green Eggs and Ham" while Derek's was more conventional but culminated in  a surprise presentation of a huge bouquet of flowers. Otherwise, the guests were left to their own devices and entertainment... mostly. The finale involved a lucky draw, prize winners having to dance "Gangnam Style" or shuffle with "Party Rock Anthem" in order to claim their gifts. Fortunately, there weren't too many gifts and our table wasn't particularly lucky. Wait, does that mean we were lucky or unlucky?

Anyway, Mr and Mrs Lee, 10 years under the belt and many more to come!

Lazy day

I can (almost) has cheezeburger...

Finally, someone (besides our regular houseguest) is making use of the kitty shelves.

Looks good on paper

Staff bonding exercise bringing today's big meeting to a close. As delicious as the pix look, that's just colour paper made to resemble food. These were the exemplars.

And this is my table's creation. No prizes for guessing what it's supposed to be. An entertaining, mindless table game it turned out to be... despite us having to make fake food while the real food awaited us at the back of the hall.

A tangled mess

We found this poor fellow hobbling around in our void deck. He had got himself tangled up in a length of yellow string which bound both of his feet together. It must have hurt quite bad as he was incapable of escaping June's hands as she picked him up for a closer inspection. The string had cut deep into his feet. If we didn't do something quickly the lack of blood circulation would have rendered his extremities necrotic... and then it would only be a matter of time.

June left me holding the pigeon while she dashed upstairs for scissors. Good thing she went up and not me because I would have brought down the biggest pair I could find, but she cleverly dug out her pedicure scissors with the tiny, pointy blades that were just the thing for the delicate operation we were about to undertake. June slipped the tips of the scissors under the tight knots and gently snipped away. Passers-by were curious, but not enough to bother asking us what was going on.

I suppose we could have been gentler, but we did eventually free the pigeon from his bonds. The pix above is the 'after' and he seems visibly relieved from his ordeal.

My biggest worry now is that he is so relieved that he loses awareness of traffic and becomes immediate roadkill. But so far, that hasn't happened. We're still keeping an eye out for him, June feeding him some bread this morning. He is still quite identifiable due to his pronounced limp. Hopefully, that will heal in time.

School's out, consultation's in!

Now we're neck deep in consultation with the kids, it's time to review some tips for surviving the deluge of kids looking for a little personal attention:

Protect the larynx. Stay hydrated during and between consults. But since prevention is better than cure, opt to listen more and talk less. See next tip.

Avoid unnecessary pre-consult marking. There just isn't time. Make the consultees read their prepared essays or other written work aloud during consult so they learn to catch their own language errors -- and hopefully their own logical fallacies as well. The ear is a much stronger facility for filtering arguments; whereas the eye, being more directly wired to the brain and hence apprehends input without the mediation of language, tends to overlook such details. By training ourselves to listen effectively we can improvise with any question without prior preparation.

Schedule decent breaks. The demands we are putting on our brains is taxing and makes us prone to error over time. Breaks need to be spent with people we can be stupid with, preferably over a beverage and motivational food. We probably do not want to be seen in this state by our consultees, so our choice of recreation venue should minimize the chance of contact with them... but that's a judgement call. Some of us are not so sensitive about this point.

Get sufficient sleep the night before. Falling asleep while in consult can be quite demotivating to the kids. While it's an opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine, it's best not to exact our revenge so close to the finals. We don't really want them to reappear next year to haunt us again.

Be realistic. Assess the consultee's capabilities at the time of consult. We work with what we judge they are capable of offering. Some kids just need shoring up and some positive reinforcement while others can be stretched a bit further. Regardless, the kids should feel better after the consult, not worse. What we don't want is to make them think that the standards are so high that they might as well give up now.

Enjoy the period of consultation. (1) We are free of the timetable! (2) We always look forward to teaching a class that is attentive, hangs on our every word, is generally responsive with feedback and asks its own questions. We'll never get it any better than when we have them one (or small group)-to-one  Two years they spend in class, but we actually see their learning expand exponentially here in the last few weeks before the finals. While on one hand that's rewarding, on the other it's just not an efficient learning schedule. I'm sure there's got to be a better way to do this.

Finally, 'Academic Consultant' has a classier ring than 'cher! Relish it while it lasts!

Same day, 30 years apart

If the cake appears to be in the process of immolation, it's because the candles represent two separate individuals celebrating their birthdays. The cake was homemade and the menagerie displayed on top suggests the theme for the evening:

Safari Night, guests expected to turn up in animal prints. Spent most of this morning shopping for such, but it appears that the material went out of fashion with Riz Low. Had to make do with a plain t-shirt and declared myself a greyhound. June didn't even bother with the pretense.

The caterer was Neo Garden. Apart from providing the theme set (above), the food was also quite a decent spread. Of note in the Asian menu were the noodles (tasty and very filling) and the special order chicken curry which everyone raved over. The chix and mutton satay went pretty quickly. Everything else was the usual buffet fare. One common complaint: it doesn't take much to make us feel stuffed any more. The hazards of ageing...

Empty nest

Doubt anyone involved in this shoot from two or three weeks ago will kill me for sharing it in this entry. We took this short clip to bid adios to our Class of 2012 which is now officially on study leave in preparation for the upcoming final exam.

This is not to say that the staff are packing our bags to wait out the rest of the year on a sunny beach in Hawaii, sipping mai-tais. Rather, we'll be up to our necks deep in mock exams, and individual and small group consultations until pretty much the paper itself.

About the video: I wish I could have directed a more coherent script rather than the episodic thing it is. Considering how little time we had to put it together, it had to do. And no, I'm not asking for more time, but maybe to think more towards a consistent narrative next time around... hmm...

NTUC (it's an anagram) fair price

Nice going, fellow netizens! We are Batman and Superman rolled into one, totally opening a can of whoop-ass on the bad guy (or in this case, gal) who dared to threaten humanity with a reprehensibly expletive-ridden racist Facebook status update. Social justice upheld, we can ride off back to our secret lairs to await the next crisis, ever vigilant against the evil forces that are forever looming over the good... and mostly helpless citizenry of Singapopolis.

It didn't matter that Amy Potty-mouth was having a bad day. It was inexcuseable that the happy noises of the people downstairs were disrupting her naptime, causing her to be extremely grouchy and anti-social. Her words were pure evil, rocking the foundations of our tremulously insecure society. And so we've made her pay the FairPrice: by uncovering her as a pariah against our fine society, we've put a once gainfully employed citizen on the unemployment line, which for her is going to stretch a very long way away from the service counter. She will never pay taxes in this town again. She won't even get to enjoy unemployment benefits, 'cos we don't provide any.

How we love to see the mighty fall in our society. There's no elation equal to the toppling the statue of Saddam Hussein, and any slightest provocation is an excuse to recapture the moment by enacting a little public humiliation on the perp before the burning at the stake. How we love to stick it to the privileged, to make them feel how we feel, suffer as we suffer. All it takes are a few ill-chosen words and we can apply the 'racist' brand, hit public enemy #1 with all the vitriol we can muster, and feel good about ourselves that when Rachel Prejudice dares to raise her head in our society, we watchdogs of Truth, Justice and Freedom will always be there to grind it back down with our heel. My friends, you are real heroes.

Let every update on Facebook henceforth reflect how happy we are; let us edit for political correctness, and scrub negative emotion from our posts. Singapopolis is a harmonious city, the envy of the world, and anyone who might suggest otherwise has clearly not bought into the doctrine and must therefore be expunged from existence. For a responsible citizen (or a friend) to simply reply to the perp's post pointing out that it was offensive and ask for an apology is simply inviting a debate on that which can not be debated.

Hence, our message is very simple: in our democratic society, everyone is entitled to freedom of speech... as long as they say what we want to hear. Say something different and your face will be all over the Hall of Justice, and the Hall of Justice will be all over your face. Capice?

Examining the exams

GP prelim exams are over. I'm amazed at how many essay submissions look so much like one another. Same lazy reasoning, same examples, same conclusions. It seems like the vast majority of the kids imbibed from the same content resources and reproduced what they had memorized without reading further into the issues.

The scary thing is, our exams tend to reward such behaviour, at least at the lower levels. But that sets up a very wrong expectation that success is dependent on copying from others who have succeeded before. Overseas institutions have a name for this kind of academic methodology: plagiarism.

I'm not saying our methods are wrong. To the West, original thought per individual is valued whereas we in the East tend to believe that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. We lock onto something we can identify as a "best practice" and mass produce it. What worked well for someone else, we believe, will work just as well for us.

Which is probably why our exams tend to produce lots of soulless drones for whom personal self-expression has been suppressed in favour of the hive-mind, at least at the level where we believe the foundations of personal success lie. So on the one hand, we do recognise our individuality and uniqueness from one another, but on the other if we want to get ahead in society, we must be just like everybody else.

The recent agitation to eradicate the primary school leaving exam is a knee-jerk reaction to this schizoid existence of ours. But the problem isn't the exam itself, but rather the approach to preparing our kids for the exam. Our method is to make the final exam familiar to us. We believe the more familiar we are with the expected exam questions and question-types, the more prepared we will be in responding to the said questions.

So in order to familiarize ourselves with the exam, we drill and practice answering past exam questions. We read and re-read successful past exam answers so that we can produce the same thing in our turn, and hopefully get the same result. We learn little else beyond the limits of what has been prescribed in the exam syllabus, and yet what we do learn often has little relevance to our lives at the time we are learning it. Rushing to familiarize ourselves with next year's syllabus material so that we will be prepared one year in advance is meaningless to what we need to know now. But that is our approach to education, pushing our young to accept advanced knowledge before they're ready. By 'not ready' I don't mean that our kids are not intellectually capable of understanding what we are trying to teach them, but that what we are trying to teach them often bears little relevance to their life experience at that point in their lives.

In all this hullabaloo over fixing our exam structure, it's easy to overreact and attempt to fix what isn't broken. The exams themselves aren't broken. As long as they test what the kids have been taught, and if what they have been taught is knowledge they can put to practical use for their age group on average, the exams are fine. What we need to fix is this method of making the exam questions familiar to us by repetitive practice.

Familiarity breeds contempt, and it cuts both ways. Familiarity breeds a "been there, done that" kind of complacency and it also breeds boredom with the subject matter. Complacency causes kids to take the question for granted, assuming it's the same question as another they've been preparing with, thus failing to take into account the subtle differences that might require an altered approach to deriving an answer. Boredom causes kids to not pay attention to what they are doing, so the mind wanders, unable to focus on the task at hand despite all the preparation done before.

I believe every exam question should be viewed as if it was the first time: like going on a first date with a desired someone. What are we like on a first date? We make ourselves well-groomed and presentable; we are attentive to our dreamboat's requirements; we listen closely to his or her interests, quirks, and conversation threads and we respond accordingly, rather than according to some predetermined script prepared a year ago that we stick to regardless of how the conversation is going. This sort of relationship is quite different from the kind we have with our familiars. Because we think we already know them quite well, we expect them to behave in certain patterns and any time there is a change in behaviour, we either miss it or ignore it until it becomes a crisis. We don't want to get too familiar with our exam questions. Seldom is one exam question exactly the same as another... for GP anyway. We do want to stay alert to the subtleties of each new question.

So how do we prepare ourselves for an exam if we eschew the good ol' drill-and-practice method? Well, how do we prepare for a date? Obviously being handed a biodata sheet to memorize is hardly the foundation for having a good time with your honeybun-to-be. So what do we do? We study our subject at a distance and up close when we get the chance. We ask around and find out as much as we can about our subject from many different sources and consolidate what we have discovered in order to find corroborating information that helps us understand our subject better. We learn from an interconnected network of social contacts to see how we and our date could possibly form further connections within and among our individual social networks. Yes, we have the licence to be intellectually promiscuous, and we learn best when we can make those mental connections between the different subjects we are studying at the same time! How's that for a mental orgy, a.k.a mind f...?

We always marvel at the kids who can score a long string of 'A's for their exams and wonder how they do it while still behaving like normal, well-adjusted people. They will tell you they work hard, which they most assuredly do, but what they won't say is that the kind of work they do helps them to meet several learning goals simultaneously.  Magic? Nope. Superhuman ability? I don't think so. It's all in the technique employed. What they know is that memory is merely the end result of study whereas the rest of us work on the misconception that memory IS the process of studying. The former allows them to learn all the time, regardless of what activity they happen to be caught up in. The latter, let's just say there aren't enough hours in a day to learn everything we need to know at the time that we need that knowledge.

The difference is whether we take our tests and exams as an organic, integral part of life experience, or if we view them as an alien, evil but necessary torture device (like a Klingon painstick) that we are obliged to beat ourselves with periodically, and immediately shelve until the next time we have to take it out again. The challenge for our industry is to change the prevailing latter view to the former. Any ideas about that?

"I am the Law!"

Dredd 3D skulked into the cinemas this week unannounced. I went in with no expectations, save for the earlier movie starring Stallone which was, shall we say, not too dreadful.

In this incarnation, Megacity One is brooding, colourless, and filthy like it's supposed to be. There's a lot of blue, grey tints and dark shadows, like the colour scheme of CSI:NY. Nasty place, don't wanna stay there and not even visit. Dredd's voice-over in the prologue tells us that the boundaries of MC1 stretch from DC to Boston. Reading the comic-book, I never knew the cityscape was that immense.

Karl Urban plays Dredd, all gravelly-voiced and serious. He is the embodiment of Justice: efficient, unflinching and blind. Next to him is Judge Anderson (Olivia Thirlby) -- Justice with compassion and conscience. Their wardrobe reflects their characters. Dredd never removes his helmet, eyes permanently obscured by the tinted visor, while Anderson wears no helmet at all, all blonde and wide-eyed, first day on the job. It is Dredd's task to evaluate Anderson's performance and decide if she has what it takes to wear the badge.

Anderson's choice to investigate a gruesome triple homicide at the Peach Trees -- a huge residential tower complex -- pits the two Judges against the violent and resourceful Ma-Ma (Lena Headey) and her gang. To keep the secret of the Peach Trees, Ma-Ma orders the lock-down of the entire building and issues an off-with-their-heads order against the Judges. The game from there is to survive the building, keep their suspect alive and find their way back to the Hall of Justice.

What more plot need there be? Dredd stories are all about dispensing justice with extreme prejudice and that's exactly what happens. In glorious slo-mo (there's even a reason why things happen in slo-mo and it ties into one of my favourite and most disturbing Dredd stories I've ever read), with blood spatter a la "300".

In every fight, the Judges appear to have the upper hand. I hate it when it seems like the protagonist looks like he's playing on God-mode (like in "Ghost Rider"). But to their credit, there's clearly flesh-and-blood underneath the armour so the danger for them is real. It's just too bad that the Ma-Ma Clan are such terrible shots.

The movie mostly plays out like a third-person shooter in which the Judges outsmart or outgun the grunts and face the occasional boss battle. Locked in the tower the only way to go is up, to confront Ma-Ma herself. It would be predictable to shoot it out with ultimate boss lady, but instead her threat involves a Hobson's choice, requiring Dredd to think out-of-the-box for a solution and deliver appropriate justice at the same time.

This movie incarnation of Dredd contains the two elements I like about the character: violence and irony. The storyline isn't too complex (survive, protect the innocents, live with your own judgements), but that means that the narrative is tight and focused leaving no room for self-indulgence. The essence of Dredd.

Transitions

Don't panic. I'm referring to the optical lenses, not to any impending mid-life crisis. Or maybe I am, in the physical rather than psychological sense. The ol' peepers are starting to let in too much light. The glare is irritating and can sometimes blur text at a distance on an especially bright day. That's not good news for when I'm driving and looking out for directional signs at the same time. The situation is not bad yet, but there's no harm in taking precautionary measures.

For my degree of myopia, apparently only Zeiss Transitions lenses will do and they don't come cheap. Fortunately, insurance will foot the bill. Thank God for corporate!

I wonder what THIS button does?

It's back to the reality of grading papers (so. many. papers.), among all the other things I need to get done by whichever deadline it was. For all I know it could have been yesterday. And my one companion for this evening... isn't helping.

Video tribute to Mimi

I present the following video as a celebration of the life of Mimi. It comprises a compilation of photographs arranged more or less chronologically. Her passing makes me reflect on how we should approach each new day as a blessing to be embraced rather than as a burden to shoulder. Life is something to be grateful for, and when we go, we leave without regret. Every pet is precious that way, and that is why we love each one so much.

Tribute video... delayed

Spent most of today composing a tribute video to Mimi. June selected and arranged the photos we collected of her over the years. I digitally scanned a few ancient photographs in for posterity, then compiled and edited them all. June also chose the accompanying music. As of now, the vid is still being uploaded to YouTube so there's nothing to view just yet. So you can look at this, instead:

 The boy is begging for his midnight snack. His usual style is to knead my stomach, but lately this is what he's been doing: nesting after kneading. Not sure what to make of this... except maybe I should start working out again. Hur.

Farewell, Mimi

Today we mark the passing of our beloved Mimi who departed peacefully at home aged 18 human years. By last weekend we knew she was already on her last legs, having little enough energy in her tired little body to eat and drink the barest minimum until it was her natural time to go.

Goodbye, sweetheart. I'll always remember you as the bundle of yappy energy I had to impress and seek approval from before I could marry June. You guarded your big sister well. Rest now, you've earned it.

It's curtains (or is it?)

Lucy's got me working on another arts focused essay. This one's an actual Cambridge question from 2010: "Would it matter if all the performing arts venues in your society, such as concert halls and theatres, were closed down?" A nonsensical question, if I ever saw one.

Again, my instructions were to be as detailed as possible so hang limits on word count and time. Click here, if the question somehow appears as as a must-read to you.

Maxed planks

First time I've seen all three gathered together in one frame around the kitty playground.

And now you know why: a sprinkling of catnip drives them a little nuts. I... I think Kaiser's becoming a junkie! But Maui remains unaffected somehow. Momo is no longer in the frame...

because she's rolling on the floor, spazzing out with a catnip filled sock. There's no hope for her.

A very small rudder

Preparation of materials for an upcoming lecture became an essay responding to a recent exam question, "Discuss the importance of language". My expertise is not in linguistics, so I've adopted a communication studies approach instead. I admit a lot more research could have gone into the writing, but my task was to see what I could spin off the top of my head, word count and time limit be damned.

Wonder what Lucy would say about this? I don't know if this was what she was really asking for, but anyway... click here.

Kitty shelves and big balls

The cats have a new playground! They haven't yet figured out how to climb up to the top shelf, but they don't seem to have any trouble climbing down after being manually placed up there. The squarish thing at bottom right in the last pix is a corner of the sofa bed we moved below the top shelf as a safety precaution in case it rains cats and dogs.

Today we also took a turn to look after the nephews for the afternoon and evening. We took them to Slava's Snowshow, a bizarre anthology of non-narrative spectacles involving artistry in clowning, mime, lighting effects and big giant balls. Oh, and masses of materials such as "snow", simulated spider webbing and water blanketing the audience from time to time.

Yep, the audience is definitely a part of the show. Two words to describe the experience: play and imagination. It was such fun to gather handfuls of "snow" from the floor and dump them over your seat mate's head. It was a blast reaching up to grab an ever-expanding sheet of webbing and pass it along to the person behind just to see if there was enough of the stuff to cover the entire stall area. There was, and some...

By the time they rolled the big balls into the audience, we were already on our feet, anticipating our turn to take a swipe or bat at one of these colourful spheres as we tossed them around the auditorium. A great reminder of what pointless, unstructured play used to be for us [older] folk. XD

Took the kids to watch Paranorman in the evening. This animated movie was strong in the use of horror elements, yet managed to keep a light, humorous touch to quite a dark tale. Early in the movie, I wondered if some scenes might have been too intense for the young 'uns, but since I heard more laughter than screams (of which there were none from them... though there was an audible gasp at one point from the grown man sitting beside me) I kinda' figured I didn't have to drag everyone home prematurely. Turned out the plot addressed the issue of bullying and the irrationality of hysteria, so the psychological perspectives were interesting; and it ended on a sweet, if sad note. Go watch it! It's good!

A special room comes together

When we embark on a home improvement project, it's like an Amish barn raising event. Here, our resident supervisor explains what is needed: basically to take flat, squared-off pieces of wood and attach them to the wall.

And here is what has been accomplished by knocking-off time. Actually, a whole lot more than I had expected. We only have to install the middle plank... which should be tomorrow morning after a trip to the local hardware store for a final supply run, and we're done. Now, what the heck could these odd-looking shelves be for?

Take away the incentive

How is it that the more resources there are available to us, the harder it is for us to share them? We have plenty of road, yet drivers and motorcyclists are squabbling over what turf is rightfully "theirs".

On our roads, motorcyclists will squeeze between lanes, raising the ire of drivers. Drivers hate such behaviour because motorbikes unpredictably appear from blind spots -- even after checking. Bikers are fast, less visible and aggressive, or they are slow and hog lanes. Either way, they can't win against drivers who feel that the roads are more legitimately theirs.

Let's agree on one thing, at least. Everyone wants to get to their destination safely and in one piece. Speed is a secondary issue. Speed is a function of what the individual road user perceives as "safe". Slow users are careful. They want longer reaction times to unpredictable events. Fast users are avoiding "being there" when something bad occurs on the road. Everybody is searching for some space where they can exist while minimizing the possibility of having to share the same space at the same time, which -- according to the laws of physics -- can often result in a fatal merger.

As a driver, I say we take away the incentive for bikers to squeeze between us. The reason why they feel it is safer between us than behind us is because we give them less space behind us than between us. Whenever we see a biker in front of us, we speed up and force the biker over to one side so we can get past. Admit it, that's what we do -- presumably because we pay more road tax or ERP; or because four wheels are better than two; or something.

Once we realize that our behaviour influences the actions of others, we empower ourselves to do something about the situation instead of waiting forever for someone else to change their behaviour. What am I suggesting? Fellow drivers, for Pete's sake, give bikers the same respect and minimum safety distance as you would for another car on the road. To keep bikes off the sides of the road, give them a safer option and they'll take it.

Bikers will also take advantage of stop lights and jams to weave between us and get to the head of the queue, and that's annoying, but because of their relative size, that's their prerogative. It also helps shorten the queue a bit, so let them do what they do best and we keep our cool about it, can?

But bikers also have to realize that they are too vulnerable to stay on the rightmost (fast) lane for too long. So, if they agree to keep off the right lane unless they are making a right turn or if they absolutely have to overtake a slowpoke on the left lane (in which case they should do it quickly and get back off to the left asap) I think there'll be a much safer traffic flow for everyone.

Not looking forward to this bill

Spending pretty much the whole day at the Mazda workshop. M2's a bit overdue for 50k servicing, but I'm also waiting while all four worn tires get replaced. At $180 a pop (not literally, I hope!) that's going to cost a pretty penny. On top of that, I'll also be paying for the next 10k servicing in advance to take advantage of a package discount they've got going here. I bet I'll also be charged for rectifying whatever is causing the squeaky noise M2's making at very low speeds. Yikes! Another austerity drive beckons.

Currently entertaining myself grading assignments, sipping free cappuccinos and randomly surfing. Shouldn't be too much longer...

Beside still waters

Another great spot for assignment grading discovered. Upper Peirce Reservoir Park has free parking, access to clean toilets and peace and quiet -- lots of it. The only sounds are insect noises from the forested area behind and to my right. I'm at a picnic table under a huge, shady tree with a view of the water. There is a slight breeze, so despite the blazing sun it's comfortable here.

Surprisingly, I'm not bothered by mosquitoes, though I was expecting to be eaten alive. All I had to do was fend off the occasional ant or spider attempting to use me as a highway to wherever it was they wanted to go. Still, tickles are way better than itches.

Other fauna I came across were a pack of stray dogs, presumably a family of an alpha, the mate and three adolescent pups; a lone primate ambling past my table with nary a glance at its human occupant; and, big surprise: a beautifully coloured kingfisher that swooped towards the water and scooped up a silvery fish for its mid-day meal. It happened too quickly to record on camera, so you'll have to take my word for it.

No food or refreshments to be purchased nearby, so pack a picnic lunch if you must.