377A, the potential political hot potato nobody wants

So in the National Day Rally 2022, PM announced that Section 377A is finally being repealed. It's been a slow, gradual process laying the groundwork for the dissolution of a legacy law that we inherited from the Brits, made in times long past from which society has grown and changed. To put it simply, 377A criminalises the act of sex between men, and in these more open times is seen as an oppression of homosexuality, although the same law makes no provision for lesbian sex.

Despite times being more inclusive, there are still strongly vocal components of our society who believe same-sex sex is unacceptable, hence the need for years of groundwork: discussions, consultations and reassurances that all interested parties on both sides of the divide will get a fair hearing. For a time, the status quo held that although the law exists, it would not be enforced. But now, this archaic law is about to become moribund, with the compromise that only heterosexual marriages will be recognised and protected by our Constitution. One step forward, and one step back.

But is it, though? Because what I see is a mistaken conflation between the repeal of a defunct law and the implied support for the group the law penalised. The next step on this slippery slope would be that if this once-penalised group has gained even implicit support from the authorities, then the upholding of its asserted rights (in this case to marriage) should follow. That is not what's happening here.

Repealing 377A has nothing to do with supporting homosexuality. Rather, it simply gets rid of a potential political hot potato that creates unnecessary division between people who feel they must draw a line in the sand over the issue. As long as the law exists, no matter how much it is promised to be 'unenforceable', at any time, any zealot from either side wanting badly enough to make a statement could make a big enough fuss over an incident, and demand prosecution. Given how divisive the issue is, and that there are respectable, contributing members of society on both sides of the fence, any decision the courts are forced to make is bound to favour one side over the other, splitting society over a rift of no return.

To repeal 377A is nothing more than a pragmatic decision. It is a recognition that whatever goes on sexually between consenting adults in private is their own business, and not the government's. If someone gets injured, or dies during the act of whatever variety of sex, there are laws that deal with assault or murder. If a sexual act is done in public and is complained about, there are laws governing public nuisance. With 377A gone, anyone charged with such crimes makes for a clearly criminal case, instead of being charged with a law designed to target a specific group of people, raising accusations of unfairness, repression and the violation of human rights. For a Democratic society, such repercussions can be severe and difficult to recover from.

The LGBTQ+ community are disappointed that their right to marriage remains denied to them for now. But this discussion is for another time and cannot be a logical follow-through from the decision to repeal 377A.

Run free, Momo!

Saturday, 6 August 2022.

Mocha has left to run with her ancestors. Vet records say she was over 21 years old, though we've really lost count ourselves. It wasn't like we adopted her, more like she adopted us. Back at our old place, we heard a commotion outside our front door. We opened it to find our big ginger block cat bullying this tiny white furball. He'd probably scratched the tip of her nose and she was never able to get rid of the scar after that. Of course we chased the bully away, and in walked this little one looking like she already owned the place. I've never seen markings like hers, all white with coffee-coloured saddlebags on both flanks, heart-shaped helmet, and the tail, all fluffed up like a squirrel's from her previous altercation. She owned us right then.

She's seen a lot with us since. We moved to our new place, which isn't so new any more. She outlived a couple of our previous other pets. Once we tried entering her in a "biggest cat" contest, at 4 whole kg, but she protested so much at being brought outdoors, so we left her at home. She would never have won, anyway. We thought she was big, but we had no basis for comparison. She would only have measured a quarter the weight of the champion.

Recently, the signs of her ageing slowly started showing. She looked increasingly fragile and unsteady as she walked. Her incontinence indicated a failing kidney situation, though she did make an effort to pee in the same spot which we lined with absorbent mats. There were the occasional accidents, but you know, old people. We took her to the vet two weeks ago hoping that she was just fighting a UTI, but on the follow up visit, she had visibly deteriorated. This time, the vet confirmed what we'd already suspected -- that she just needs to be comfortable while we wait out the inevitable.

We placed her on a towel in the living room floor so that she would still be in the midst of family activity. Personally, I hoped that she would pass in the house she had lived in for so long, in familiar surroundings, with familiar beings around her. And so, she did. I sat with her in her last moments, stroking her fur, keeping her assured that she wasn't alone. I kept at it, not knowing exactly when she'd gone. But the dog knew. All this time the dog sat apart from us, but just as I began to question Momo's lack of responsiveness, the dog quietly walked over and sat on my lap. I let her sit for a while then moved when I needed to stretch my legs. When I settled, the dog immediately sat on my lap again. Dogs seem to pick up and respond to human emotional cues. The other two cats were off doing their own thing.

The rest was procedural. We took her back to the vet to get her certified and arrange for cremation. We never keep their ashes since they have spent their lives keeping us company, so now they've earned the right to run with their ancestors.

Speculating on the MCU with She-Hulk: Attorney at Law

It's just a trailer, but some quarters are concerned with how Ms Walters seems to be so much better at Hulking than the Hulk. Is She-Hulk the Mary Sue these folks see her as? Lets see...

She tosses a boulder further than the Hulk, but notice that Hulk is using his recently recovered hand -- previously severely injured from his counter-snap in Endgame -- and he is using a wrist toss, while She-Hulk throws from the shoulder, giving her greater leverage in this 'contest'.

She demonstrates greater agility in the 'balance' contest, but it's likely that when she was still just Ms Walters, she was already quite an advanced yoga student (benefit of the doubt here).

And with the other tests, it's just superhero physics. 

I believe what's going on in this tropical island Hulk testing facility is that the Hulk is being a sexist, overprotective big brother type, and greatly underestimates what she can do. So his 'tests' are pitched insultingly low for one thing; and for another, She-Hulk is probably an overachiever and highly motivated to learn quickly so she can get off the island and back to her normal life ASAP.

As for her 4th wall breaking asides, She-Hulk has been doing that since the 1980s. And she has done more than just talk to the audience. Fully aware of being a character in a comic book medium, she has ripped her way through pages of her own comic book, walked across non-narrative frames of advertising, and taken issue with her own writers and artists. I wonder if they would go that far in this TV series, perhaps taking us behind the camera, and continuing the narrative outside of narrative space, effectively blending her universe with the audience's. I relish the possibility of how meta this show can get.

Oh, and in case you worry about how violent she gets with the four puny thugs in the trailer, they're the Wrecking Crew and they have powers so they won't bruise easily.

Where might this show be taking us in the MCU? For a comedy, it could be taking us down a pretty dark path: The world is quickly becoming overpopulated with super-powered beings, and the "Book of American... uh... Laws" is becoming increasingly less useful in maintaining peace and order. When Phase 5 hits, I speculate the build-up of paranoia among powered and non-powered people groups with Avengers: Secret Wars breaking the camel's back. Phase 6 will begin a "Days of Future Past" type conflict, and an ideal time to finally introduce The Mutants, though hints of their existence will continue to be dropped throughout Phase 5.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The recent Marvel offerings have been reflecting a light-hearted comedic tone and I'm looking forward to having a few laughs with She-Hulk and her entourage of supporting characters, some well-known, others obscure. Let's laugh now while we can. I see dark days ahead.  

Low-bar predictions for Wakanda Forever

 

A bit late to the party. The official teaser trailer for Wakanda Forever dropped days ago at SDCC 2022 and I've been watching so many reaction videos responding to Ryan Coogler's latest masterpiece. For a trailer, the shots are beautifully composed and the way they are cut together is powerfully emotive. The focus is on the real life loss of Chadwick Boseman, the entire trailer a loving tribute to the Black Panther character who has done so much for African representation in the mainstream movies. Marvel not recasting him tells us there can be no other who can fill his traditional sandals. Whomever is going to be the new Black Panther will have to create and own a new mythology by themselves, and make us care as much. I do not envy the actor or actress who will accept the mantle.

What I wish to do, now that this movie has been so hyped, is to temper my expectations with low-bar predictions and hope that I am totally wrong. Last thing I want is to enjoy the trailer more than the actual movie, and I really enjoyed the trailer. So, my hopefully wrong predictions are as follows:

1) There won't be a single Black Panther replacement, but rather a 'Spartacus'- style Black Panther Squad

2) Namor looks like the main antagonist, but the action-packed conflict will brief as Atlantis and Wakanda team up against a common enemy

3) Queen Ramonda's (Angela Bassett) powerful speech about her "entire family is gone" is a flashback to the snap (do we know if Shuri and T'challa both dusted?) and not referring to current events

4) It won't be just T'challa we will be mourning, but Wakanda itself, along with its vibranium will be destroyed in the conflict with the Atlanteans. The title, "Wakanda Forever", as well as Kendrick Lamar's "Alright" which accompanies the second half of this trailer, building excitement, anticipation, and hope, are both ironic. Perhaps at the end of the movie, there remains a seed from which Wakanda can rebuild and reinvent itself from scratch -- a sort of cliffhanger to end Phase 4 and bring in Phase 5 of the MCU saga.

TIFO: how to appreciate a sundae

Whenever we go to Swensen's for ice-cream, the wife will invariably order her Coit Tower sans strawberry and hot fudge sauce toppings. I always assumed that she didn't like strawberry and hot fudge toppings. Today, she ordered the same thing, but the order got garbled in the kitchen. Both our sundaes arrived sans strawberry and hot fudge toppings. Small error, so I let it go. As I dug in, I realized what the wife had known for the last couple of decades of being married to me: ice-cream sundaes taste so much better without the intrusion of oversweet flavoured sauce toppings that are only added on as eye-candy, but overwhelm the subtler and more varied flavours of the ice-cream underneath. The brightness of plain vanilla blending with rich chocolate awoke in my mouth, and now I know what I've been missing all this time we've been going to our favourite San Francisco-themed dessert joint. From now on, it's going to be naked sundaes. Less is truly more.

Gaming strategy of the GCE H1 General Paper

This post is inspired by the GP Paper 2 timed exercise I gave today:

Here's the premise: An 'A' in GP translates to a band between 70-100 marks. So even if we lose 30% of the total mark, we still score an 'A'. And to pass, we can afford to lose 55% of the mark.

The paper comprises 1 section of short questions (17 marks total), 1 summary (8 marks), and 1 Application Question (AQ) or short essay (10 marks) based on a given set of 1 or 2 short texts about a topic of general interest. The marks from the questions total to 35 marks, with an additional 15 marks for language. Altogether, they add to a grand total of 50 marks. Assuming most students get 10 marks for language, losing 10 marks from the questions alone will still score an 'A'.

The short questions in the first section comprise a mix of questions that have to do with 1) vocabulary, 2) finding lists of linguistically-related things, and 3) finding lists of evidence supporting a claim. Higher-order questions involve 1) inferences, 2) or otherwise intuiting further meaning from the given text. Or we can break the short questions into translation and interpretation types, that is, those asking to extract meaning from what is written, and from what ISN'T written, respectively.

The current strategy employed by my students is that of a side-scrolling platformer: tackle every obstacle or every enemy sprite in sequence. Their threat-boards are lit up in red everywhere as they take on all-comers on the field one at a time. But this method slows them down significantly. There is a fixed time limit, and when they eventually clear their way to the boss monster of the AQ they run out of time, and the mission is incomplete, resulting in poor performance all round.

I'm proposing a different strategy now, that of an Action Role-Playing Game (ARPG). In these games, a few high-value targets are mixed in with a hoard of low-value targets. To survive, we prioritize our targets, even to the point where we decide to ignore a few. It's tempting to go after the high value targets first, but we underestimate how much damage low-value targets can cause en masse, so the smart thing to do is to avoid the Elites and clear the trash mobs first. When we have sufficiently thinned the herd, then we go after the Elites, ensuring we have time remaining to slay the Boss at the end. And if there's still time remaining, we circle back to mop up the remaining trash and Elites that have survived our onslaught.

In GP Paper 2 terms, the trash are the simpler questions involving vocabulary and lists, while the Elites are the inferential questions. The summary is nothing more than a long list of things. The Boss, that's the AQ. The game is to chalk up as many points as possible, as early as possible, even if we need to dodge the Elite questions at first, then going back to take them on, time permitting. Since there are 3 sections to the paper, each section maxes out at 30 minutes. On each 30th minute, regardless of how many questions are answered, port out to the next section. The AQ needs to be engaged on the 60th minute, latest. AQ done, cycle back until the full 90 minutes are up.

Spreading out the point acquisition reduces the risk of losing huge chunks of marks for a missed section, so knowing that some questions, or parts of questions, can be avoided or ignored until a more opportune time presents itself should improve performance moving forward.

My Prince Phillip story

It was '72.  I was 6. Their Majesties dropped in on our sunny isle to see how their old colony was doing. Mom was preggers but was nevertheless excited to have a chance to look at royalty up close and personal. They were scheduled to make an appearance at the then Singapore Turf Club (now Turf City). Somehow, Mom bundled me there and got close to the barricade bordering the red carpet on which the Royals would walk back to their motorcade. However, where we were standing, Mom may have been barely tall enough to see, but not me. All I saw were the legs of the union jack-waving throng lining the carpet. Determined not to miss a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see characters I've only read about come to life, I pushed forward and inched my way to the front. Perhaps I was too determined, but to everybody else's horror, I found myself ON the red carpet. Just then, a man patted me on the head and said, "Ho, ho, ho, look at this little boy!" and carried on walking along with a bunch of other people. Then nothing else happened. The royal party had walked past me, and I didn't get to see the Queen.

I was disappointed. All that effort, gone to waste. When Mom finally caught up with me, she revealed that the man I encountered was Prince Phillip himself! But my 6-year old mind could not comprehend that royalty did not dress in crown, gown, and scepter as they did in my picture books. They wore people clothes, and I didn't recognize them as what I saw did not match up to what I expected to see.

And maybe that, too, is the story of my life.

It's not an exam, it's an opportunity

There are no exams to take for learning to ride a bicycle, or any other skill we pick up in childhood. Either alone, or helped by friends, we play, fall, mess up, and play some more until we develop an appreciable facility that need not be validated by an external moderator. What keeps us going is how much fun we are having while we practice, and the sense of empowerment we get 'levelling up'.

What is left when we strip away the exam component from the H1 General Paper (GP)? For most of the fraternity, and practically all GP students, the paper and the exam are sadly indistinguishable. None would take the subject voluntarily, so it is compulsory for everyone to take. Since the exam IS the thing, no one looks beyond the exam, and every student is happy to drop it as soon as the final exam at the end of second year is taken and passed. No one forgets how to ride a bike, but GP is one and done.

If we forget the exam and stop worrying about the results, we could stop teaching 'skills' that are only relevant to the exam. Without things like 'question types', and the nit-picky 'close reading', and the excessive paraphrasing, and many other limiting, rule-bound redundancies, GP as a skill would be rather therapeutic, at the very least.

If learning skills is about fun and empowerment, then GP combines current affairs with language to the effect that our young students can grab humanity by the collar, give us a good shake, and show us how we've messed up the world for ourselves, for the planet, and for the future. The subject presents a unique opportunity for teenage angst, frustration, anxiety, and despair to have a legitimate, yet positive outlet. And when the students are done railing at humanity, they can say, 'Do you see what you've done? Do you understand what you've done? And now, you know what you need to do to make it right!'

Students are tired of being told what to do, so let's have a little fun with the exams. The questions on the exam are not for the students to answer, but rather for them to make humanity answerable for so much that has gone wrong in the world today, and to make restitution and amends thereafter. That's empowerment. And if the students can see the opportunity instead of the exam, the results will speak for themselves.

The difference between 'woke and 'cancel'

is that 'woke' engages an issue, whereas 'cancel' is an ad hominem attack on a person. How have we not figured that out yet?

Hurry up and wait

A pair of Karens behind me in line for COVID-19 shot. They are berating the poor employee who's just managing queue order about how they made the effort to "rush" down to their 9am appointment only to find that they'd have to wait in line with the rest of us plebes to get poked. They appear horrified that all of us seem to also have a 9am appointment. And now they are lamenting the inefficiencies of a system that cannot precisely tell them exactly when the doctor will see them. All this while, the employee is resignedly letting them rant in his face. And now, in a huff, they've cancelled their appointment saying they have other appointments to attend to today.

Has this precious duo never been to a clinic before? The appointment time indicates the time you are eligible to queue with everybody else. You queue to get a get a queue number, then queue some more while waiting for it to be called. When you hear your number, then it's your turn to see the medical professional for the jab. Then, as a precaution against adverse reactions to the vaccine, there's another wait for 30 mins in an observation area before being discharged. The whole process takes slightly more than an hour and a half.

So now we have a pair of loose Karens who have given up their shot at immunity from a global pandemic. There's always gotta be a few.

Almost, Impossible

Ah, Impossible meat. Served at Swensen's, the cheeseburger version is finally affordable enough to sample. Supposed to "taste like meat", I'd say it's close, but still not quite. Perhaps if a friend served it at their backyard BBQ without saying what it was, I'd unquestioningly nom it down. But seeing the item on the menu inevitably raises a comparison to the real thing. And where burger meat tastes like cow, Impossible tastes like beans.

What saved this one for me is the generous serving of cheese, fresh lettuce and raw onions between the buns. These additional flavours distracted from the veggie patty enough to simulate an authentic burger experience, but not enough to make me a convert.

A pity, since I'm at a stage when I'd gladly chow down on a veggie-based meat substitute to avoid animal slaughter, but that product is still a ways off yet in terms of cost and deliciousness.

Upsetting the balance (and everyone else in the fraternity)

We who teach argumentative writing are constantly aware of the requirement to present a 'balanced' argument. Perhaps it's the way this requirement has been phrased that we teach 'balance' as the primary objective of the written argument, but that is so out of touch with reality. As such, the way we teach kids to write arguments feels unnatural, and useless for any purpose other than for grading papers.

So we assume that arguments identify a subject in a state of disequilibrium, and that the purpose of argumentation is to return the subject to equilibrium. And perhaps the nature of our jobs contribute to this misconception, because that line of logic is less of an argument, and more of a scolding -- the kind that mollifies everybody and tells them to shake hands and make up at the end of it.

In reality, arguments exist to shake up equilibrium and cause disruption to what we assume to be 'normal'. In a state of equilibrium, there is no argument. Everyone agrees to not rock the boat, to maintain stability, and keep the status quo. Arguments arise when someone is no longer satisfied with the way things are, and raises a ruckus in hopes of making a change. Arguments advance a position to upset an existing balance, instead of forcing everyone back into a state of compliance and conformity.

Our mistake in teaching argumentative writing is in making balance the objective, rather than treating it as a means to an end. Instead, we need to teach that balance is important only so far as we are prepared to knock it all down. Balance is a pyramid of cans in a carnival game stall. Nobody approaches it to admire how well it is balanced. The attraction is to toss a ball at it and watch it explode into bits on impact. And collect the stuffed toy prize after.

Achieving balance is a lot of work, and yes, the effort is appreciated in the writing of the essay. But the fun part is in demolishing the balance which we have worked so hard to build. So, unfairly stacking the argument, as the kids like to do with the 'three points "for", one point "against"' conceit is like the same carnival pyramid of cans being nailed down on their pedestal -- no fun at all since the outcome is a foregone conclusion. So if that's what we're teaching the kids to do, ironically, what we call 'balanced' is ultimately biased from beginning to end.

Perhaps our mistaken approach is what turns off the kids from writing. We make them work for balance, but deprive them of the joy of demolishing what they have so carefully built, and sifting through the remains to find the prize: some discovery that brings a new understanding or insight to the subject of their discussion.

And that would be so much more rewarding for us to read, as well. There's always a sense that a balanced argument feels unfinished or incomplete. Like it's missing a 'so what?". Well, here's your 'so what'.

Education, the MMORPG

After the review session yesterday, from the fragments of observations other people talked about, I pieced together an analogy of how education works here, as in how it seems so successful at the early stages, then successes taper off at higher levels of development.

Our education system is a massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). All our kids play, or at least participate in the same game together. There are monsters to defeat, quests to undertake, and rewards to gain for every success. But it's quite a challenging, and punishing game in that it's a grind, meaning that we spend a lot of time doing repetitive, meaningless tasks to accumulate experience points (EXP) as we level up. Leveling up unlocks harder, but more rewarding challenges. Everybody wants to level up as quickly as possible to 'farm' the best rewards the game can dish out.

Most MMORPGs work this way, but our version comes with an online trading system. Advantaged players with the most resources at the start of the game immediately source out and buy the best Unique or Legendary items with which to equip themselves, even before encountering their first low-level rat-monster. Armed with the most powerful level-permitted weapon, and the toughest body-armour money can buy, players blaze through the earliest tutorial stages with ease. Their achievements are impressive, leveling up faster than the other players around the rest of the world. While most other players are still struggling with basic arithmetic, our players are already tackling rudimentary algebra. Collectively, we continue wowing the education world with players constantly topping the academic Olympiad and PISA leagues.

Our successes are based on the pay-to-win strategy that we are all complicit in. All the extra tuition, all the best assessment books, all the best IT equipment, everything money can buy that will give our players a leg-up we willingly spend on. We even pay for dubious 'cheat codes', as some tuition centres purport to offer. We believe in advantaging our players early so that they can have the best start in life. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Well, if our rapidly unlocked 'Achievements' are dependent on our money-bought equipment, then our players aren't really learning to play the game. They won't need to think around a task or puzzle, or figure out how to defeat a boss monster. You don't need to develop a strategy if you can just bludgeon a problem to death. Many of our players won't even need to consider co-op play -- since they can solo everything, why bother with the complexities of working with other people, and sharing the rewards after?

And so, for our players, education is a game in which they do nothing else but grind, level up, trade for new equipment, rinse and repeat until they max out their characters at the Level Cap -- that is, the level at which there are no higher levels to attain. At this level, our players believe they have attained "Education", and the game is over. After all, what's there to do when there are no more levels to grind for?

The thing with Education, the MMORPG, is that -- as with most MMORPGS -- the real game begins at the level cap.  At the End Game, the other players who have been learning the game instead of being 'carried' through start to shine. Having understood their characters inside-and out, and figuring out the game mechanics as they struggled through their levels, the real fun begins. They've learned to optimize their randomly-dropped equipment, and strategise around what they have instead of what they've bought to take on the toughest challenges. At this point of the game, the really good rewards are incredibly hard to find, but the sense of accomplishment is real, whereas those with a sense of entitlement are constantly frustrated by the rarity of the drops. Another reason to 'rage quit', since the game was never really very interesting for them to begin with.

What this analogy hopes to explain is how Education today seems to develop young minds so quickly and with so much promise, and yet in later life, most of them are stuck in unfulfilling, mundane job mediocrity, and are wondering where it all went wrong. So it's possible that we parents who so want to provide our children the advantages we never had growing up, could be killing their "joy of learning" with our good intentions instead.

The Black Panther: Lion King recycled?

Is it just me, or does The Black Panther seem like Disney's The Lion King in reverse?

Spoiler alert:

Mufasa (T'chaka) kills Scar (N'Jobu).

Scar's son (Killmonger) is exiled thereafter and makes friends with the Jackals (Ulysses Klaue and gang).

Meanwhile, Simba (T'chaka) becomes king, supported by his mom (Ramonda) and the spiritual Rafiki (Zuri).

Simba has a love interest in Nala (Nakia), and is friends with playful and inventive Timon (Shuri+Everett K Ross), and stubborn, charge-into-battle Pumbaa (Okoye).

Crisis happens when the exile returns to the tribe and challenges the incumbent for the throne.

In the end, House Mufasa still prevails over House Scar.

Not to take away from a great movie presenting strong nuance and food for thought, but perhaps there really aren't any new stories to tell.

The replacement

Behold the the new ride! Design-wise, it's still the same basic shape as the previous, so in a way, I feel I'm keeping the same old car, just with a heap of upgraded components.

Only got to drive him home from the dealership today, so there's not enough driving for a strong first impression. Still, there's a sense of more cabin space internally, while externally it feels slightly longer and the tiniest bit wider in bulk than I'm used to. And while the old car gave off a free-wheelin' fun vibe, this new model feels more mature in the upholstery, the safety features, energy efficiency, entertainment system, and the clean, functional dashboard display.

And because it's Chinese New Year, the dealership sent along a box of Goodwood Park pineapple tarts in the shape of ancient Chinese gold taels, each topped with a sliver of gold leaf. They offer a satisfactory bite, not crumbly and not too sweet. Best shared over a steaming pot of tea. Thanks, Mazda!

No longer mine

M2 has a new owner now. Handed over with both sets of (working) keys, manual, servicing booklet, and roadworthiness inspection documentation. His new designation: an Uber car.

Selling a car second-hand was an on-the-job learning process for me. Here is the sequence as I experienced it:

List car on online auction site. Drive over and have them photograph the car inside and out, and run tests. The car gets advertised on their website along with their report of your car's condition, according to their tests. Open bidding ensues. After 24-hours, bidding closes and the seller is informed of the highest bid. If acceptable, the auctioneer informs the bidder that the deal is on and... that's where I found myself on my own.

The bidder called me to arrange a viewing and a test drive. At this point, it would have been good for me to have had 1) downloaded a sales agreement, and 2) obtained a Transaction PIN (T PIN) from the One Motoring website, to avoid looking like such a greenhorn selling my car. Note that the T PIN is NOT to be handed over to the prospective buyer until the sales agreement is signed -- meaning that the intention to transfer ownership is confirmed.

Since I hadn't yet obtained a T PIN, I went to the LTA branch at Sin Ming. The experience was nothing like the stereotypical DMV staffed by sloths. Instead, it was over so quickly, my head was still spinning when I left, sealed T PIN in hand. Arriving there a half-hour before closing time might have helped. Maybe.

On transaction day (for me today), I exchanged the T PIN for a cheque, signed the transfer of ownership form, and we're done.

Last thing I need to do is to cancel my auto insurance policy for a pro-rated refund since the car is no longer under my name.

Sigh. Hope to see you on the roads again, old boy!

To market, to market

I feel like I'm selling a good friend off once again. M2's been a really good boy these 8 and a half years. He's given no trouble at all; and still gives fine, comfortable rides. I get speed when I want it, and confident control while corning. Compact, easy to park, manoeuvres easily around obstacles, he is difficult to give up. If it weren't for the dratted COE that limits car ownership to only 10 years, I'd keep him for years to come.

Here, I'm prepping him with an exterior wash and an interior polish so that he'd look nice and fetch a better price at the auction among 2nd hand car dealers. It feels like a betrayal, treating him so nicely now only for my personal gain. Really hope whoever takes over ownership from me appreciates the quality of this little car which has served me so well.

On a separate but related note, it's time to tell the truth about how M2 lost his original 17" stock rims and had them replaced with his first set of 15" sports rims. It was CNY 2015. On my way to work early in the morning, I made my usual U-turn towards the CTE. Sitting in the shotgun seat was a bottle of the wife's handmade CNY cookies intended for E. As I was making the turn, inertia caused the bottle to fall off its perch. I tried to catch it but in so doing, took my eyes off the road. Instead of straightening out, I kept the steering wheel on the turn. M2 mounted the central divider with a nasty bump, causing me to look up. It was horrific to see the metal railing just centimeters from my front grill. While thinking "this is it...!", I immediately yanked the wheel left. M2 responded instantly, barely avoiding disaster. The folks at the bus stop probably assumed that a stupid driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. Anyway, the initial bump tore my right front tyre, but I was still able to limp to the nearest service station. The rest of the story I'd already posted. Today, if anyone's curious about the car-shaped hole in the bushes of the central divider, yep, my bad.

Another set of wheels

Done it again. M2's getting to be 9 soon. Thought it a good idea to visit the Motor Show last weekend. Got a call today congratulating me on a successful COE bid.

That escalated quickly!

Old timer, meet new timepiece

Just arrived: my new wristpiece. As the box says, it's a Ticwatch with full Android Wear functionality.

Unboxing, the product bears a large display for which I am grateful. It has only one Home button on the left, but who needs more buttons when every other control you need is on the touchscreen?

The display is bright and clearly visible, and a relief as I am so used to squinting at my previous display, these eyes not being what they used to be. This model is the Ticwatch S, which means it comes with a lot of health apps, "S" being for "sports". One more thing to nag at me daily to get my 10K steps in. Other items in the box are a screen protector and a nifty pair of charging cables. I guess the future is here. If you see me talking to my wrist, I'm actually asking Google Assistant to take a note, make an appointment, direct me to a location, or text so-and-so.

Meantime, My old Pebble Time must have known he was soon to be replaced. Still perfectly functional, it really wasn't his time. But since his parent company got sold away, I needed to find a reliable replacement -- I just didn't expect the Ticwatch to be delivered so soon. Anyway, over the weekend, I suffered a careless misstep and fell head first into a parked bicycle. But most of the damage went to the old Pebble Time, with the now severely scratched faceplate. Guess it's his way of saying he will always be mine, now that I can't sell him off or give him away any more. I'll keep him paired with my old Note 5. Relics of yesteryear.

Making the switch to the Pixel 2 XL

Am now a happy user of the new Google Pixel 2 XL.

Straight out of the box, it's almost ready to use. Transitioning from my old phone was a breeze: all needed files, apps, and settings directly copied over via a data cable link between old and new phones. A quick re-login for social media apps on the new phone, and it's like I never left my old environment.

A quick tip for setting up the fingerprint security access: despite what the instructions say, tap your finger on the sensor. Each tap lights up a segment of a blue circle encircling the fingerprint icon. When all segments are fully blue, it's done. Now getting past the lockscreen is quick and accurate -- I haven't had my print misread even once yet.

Have yet to properly play around with the other features such as the new camera with 'portrait mode', though. My surroundings aren't all that inspiring to shoot. The 'blue shift' issue, well, I knew about it before I shelled out for it. The screen does turn perceptibly blue when viewed at an angle, but it's an imperfection I can overlook, literally.

Once again, thanks to my generous Uncle Moe for the annual provision!

Fillings, nothing more than fillings

A fully-packed day of wall-to-wall consults I had to cancel.

I’d been living with what I thought was a cavity in my molar for months. It made me chew on my left side, but occasionally a bit of stray food would get lodged in there and cause an explosion of pain inside my skull. But I have a deft tongue, good for dislodging food particles from hard-to-reach recesses in my mouth, and so the pain doesn’t last more than a couple of seconds.

Yesterday, however, something went in and the pain stayed with me for the next few hours. Definitely time to stop putting off the inevitable.

Today, I squeezed in an appointment with my dentist and expected the worst. Turns out there was no decay, but my tooth had cracked. The damage was bad enough to cause a little chunk of tooth to come loose, but not so bad as to leave the rest irreparable.

I had the sliver of tooth removed along with an existing filling which had been put in place years ago — a metallic blight against my natural enamel. Sounds painful, but I didn’t realise that was happening until it was over. The new cavity got a new filling, this time in a more natural colour. Yay!

Dentist suspects the crack might have been caused by me grinding my teeth in my sleep. There are wear marks and my canines are flattened. Next visit, we review the new filling, and barring further complications, reinforce it with a composite. Then maybe we’ll discuss the need for a night guard to deal with my night grinding.

Update 19 Jan 2018:
The repair has failed. Was crunching a McSpicy when the repaired molar split in half! Unsalvageable, it had to be extracted. Now living with a gap in the back. Dentist says that in time, my existing wisdom tooth will fill in the hole as it is growing in that direction, anyway. Haven't had an extraction since my early teens. Turns out the process was more frightening than painful. Maybe I have a good dentist?

Jaws

Had the fright of my life. It was our first ever extended family Nat Day feast. We were all anxious to sample the wife's newfound baking skills, and the BBQ that followed.

Cuz J brought around a bull terrier mix he had recently adopted -- actually saved from being put down by his previous owners. The maltipoo was on my lap when the bull came sniffing round. On catching sight of each other, the bull reared up and clamped his jaws on the 'poo, dragging her off my lap onto the ground. While the 'poo was screaming, I reacted, shoving what few fingers I could into the bull's mouth and tried to pull his jaws apart. J and son rushed over to help, the three of us tugging as hard as we could. In the back of my mind, I was wondering what damage the 'poo was suffering. She was still screaming. My forebrain kept focus on the immediate problem: open jaws, assess damage later. Somehow, the bull let go and we got a clean separation. He got an immediate time-out in the garden, while the 'poo went into the bedroom for a diagnosis. It could have been worse.The 'poo showed only bite marks on her right ear, bruised but not punctured. Lots of sympathy and comforting later and the trauma seems to have faded.

The bull will probably need more socialising to properly calibrate his IFF sensors. I'm guessing he saw the 'poo as prey -- like a large squirrel, or something -- and couldn't help himself. As for the 'poo and me, we're gonna be a bit more wary of strange dogs from now.

Cash-cade

A month ago, I had what I thought was a sudden craving to spend lots of money. Turns out, a month later, it wasn't so much a craving than a premonition. All I wanted to spend on was a new (and almost totally unnecessary) monitor with an HDMI port. Everything else was unplanned expense including repairs to Mr L33t; car maintenance; new health insurance policies; membership and late charges for a credit card I hadn't been keeping track of since I never use it; vet expenses for the cat's UTI, wedding gifts; and various entertainment expenses for out-of-town visitors. All worthy causes, no doubt, but the wallet is severely fatigued from the frequent open-close reps.

Austerity drive until next payday... which is looking so far away, at the moment.

Oversized

The new monitor finally arrived, a day late and unannounced. Just so happened I was home. So now I have a huge-ass big-screen monitor sitting on my desk, with barely enough space for my keyboard which is partially hanging off the monitor's baseplate. I might have to rethink the desktop layout, though I hate moving things about, now that everything has been let to settle for years.

At least my games are a lot more immersive, taking up way more visual real estate than before. Yay!

Pending delivery

Does anyone else feel trapped at home awaiting a delivery that's due, but with no specific prearranged time? Guess I'll just nip out for a bit. Need food...

Upgrade time!

Just for the record; my reference, really:
Upgraded Mr L33t again yesterday. He is now rockin' with the following components:
Mobo: Gigabyte AB350 Gaming-3
Processor: AMD Ryzen 1500X
RAM: 1x16GB Kingston
GPU: Gigabyte Geforce GTX1060

If there is a reason for the upgrade, it's due to a system crash that I was unable to diagnose towards a specific fault. What was clear that my secondary drive with all my data was one of the contributing factors. And, yes, I had eliminated that possibility in my testing and the system was still unable to boot.

Good news: Although I assumed the worst in being unable to recover my data files, I had backed them up on a portable drive and was pleasantly surprised to serendipitously rediscover them today. No questions asked, just re-backed them up on a new drive, just to be safe.

And tomorrow, the new monitor is scheduled to be delivered...

Are you normal?

No one wants to be normal in Singapore. A 'normal' person takes 5 years to complete secondary education. That's too slow. Not when 'express' only takes 4 years. If a person has to take an extra year to be schooled, they must be stupid and are an embarrassment to their parents who will never be able to hold their heads up again among their contemporaries, all of whom have 'express' children.

Faith Ng's play, Normal, directed by Claire Wong, focuses on two students in their 5th and final year of secondary education. Daphne blanked out after studying too hard at her Primary School Leaving Exam (PSLE), while Ashley obtained less-than-outstanding results at the same exam -- which they took when they were 12 -- thus qualifying them both as 'normal', and nothing more.

Like every other normal student, they bear the label as a stigma. They have little confidence in their own abilities. Their well-meaning teachers' insistence on upbraiding them on their attire, punctuality and decorum at every slight infraction is simply focused on making the normals conform in outward appearance, but does little to challenge them intellectually where academic learning really counts. As such, with every school day feeling like prison, the normals feel increasingly convinced that they will end up not graduating and their lives will be over.

Unlike the other teachers they have encountered, the new literature teacher who runs the Drama Club takes a different approach with the normals. She believes in them and helps them work out their fears, anxieties and frustrations through theatre and convinces them that they can succeed in the end. But in a plot reminiscent of Dead Poets Society (1989), Ms Hue is alone in her efforts and the system beats down on everyone eventually.

The play is beautifully set. There is the main playing area in which all the action takes place, while a corridor runs behind it framed to look like school chalkboards when lit in front, but becomes transparent when lit from the back (the magic of sharkstooth scrim), revealing the ensemble engaged in a variety of school activities. In a genius piece of lighting design, this corridor-frame is uplit at both ends, casting a shadow that creates the illusion of an old school tower on the upper back wall of the stage.

A snappy script keeps moments of tension, bleak humour, and awkward tenderness flowing at a brisk pace. Scene transitions are done by the cast in low light while singing familiar girls' school songs -- efficient, entertaining and relevant. The dialogue is liberally peppered with colloquial vulgarities, which could be shocking -- if we didn't already know that schoolgirls actually do speak like that. However, in performance, because the dialogue is delivered in perfect English, the colloquialisms feel a little forced and incongruous to the lines. 'Natural' speech is still a paradox local theatre here has yet to figure out. Nevertheless, the few soliloquies at the end are vivid in their revelations of past history leading up to the decision the normals make when events that have transpired cause them believe that kindness has turned to betrayal.

For a play that turns a critical eye on the rigidity of the education system and how it adversely pigeonholes people seemingly for life, it is disappointing that the normals make the decision that they do. The characters of Daphne and Ashley are built strongly and sympathetically. As such, it seems a bit of a stretch that they would succumb to their circumstance rather than rise above it. Perhaps that is the point: that the system wastes much human potential. Like the Alpha, Beta castes of Huxley's A Brave New World (1932), the system gives few opportunities for 'late-bloomers' to excel, or even bloom at all.

But it isn't so much the system that finally drives Ashley's decision as much as her own persecution complex which locks her in a vicious cycle, causing her to interpret every interaction with her teachers as hostile, and escalating that hostility with her own defensive reactions. If Ashley is the architect of her own fate while 22 of her classmates are able to move on from where they are, then the character of Ashley is only there to play the stereotype, pander to audience expectations, and raise sympathy rather than deal with the real flaws of inequality and injustice inherent in a system that is ironically supposed to support meritocracy.

Otherwise, Normal is an excellent and realistic view of school from both student and teacher perspectives. While teachers are well-meaning at heart, their personal biases and choices in responding to their students can be very cruel, indeed.

Review originally published on https://tsupp.wordpress.com (26 March 2017)

Cake in a box

He hears, "put the cake in the box."

She means, "putthecakeintheboxthatIgotfromDaisobutdon'tteartheoriginalpackagingwhichhasinstructionsonhowtousetheboxproperlyandbesidesIwanttogivethewholethingtoCousinSallyasaChristmaspresentsopleasemakesureIcanresealthepackagingsoitstilllooksintactandnotlooklikeit'sbeenopenedbefore."

He puts the cake in the box.

She goes ballistic.

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

Essay: Are foreigners essential to a country's progress?

While others are groaning over a possibly apocalyptic US election result, I'm just going to share another freestyle essay and a self-critique. 'Freestyle' means no plan, just pure improvisation over a 90 minute time limit. And, yes, I do in that span of time allow pauses to compose my thoughts and make edits along the way.

The essay question as follows:
To what extent are foreigners essential to a country's progress? Discuss with reference to your society.

The essay here:
http://tinyurl.com/oz6y3gn

And the self-critique:

Clearly not a standard essay for the General Paper. With no plan, I let the scope of this essay go out of control and ran into trouble bringing the argument back into focus. The definition of 'foreigners' was difficult to nail down as the concept is more abstract than I had anticipated. While the simple idea of a foreigner is someone born outside of local borders, the conception of 'foreigner' is just as telling of a mindset as it is a place of birth. Besides, how does one discuss a relative thing like 'progress'? So many things to establish even before I can begin to make a case. By the time I got to make 'reference to your society', it was really the tail end of what I could manage within the time allotted. As such, the conclusion tries to make a point I hadn't had time to fully develop, ending on a hyperbole with little to no substantiation. And, yes, some evidence is contrived as well. As for balance, well, a resource is either essential (absolutely must have) or not essential (can live without it) and cannot be partially essential (which makes no logical sense at all). I chose to argue 'essential'. Being decisive motivates a stronger argument than being placatory.

Arguing the extreme

Model essay time!

I detest 'balanced' arguments the way they are commonly taught. What usually results is something of a bipolar nature with little basis for resolution. Instead of arguments, what the kids generally produce are almost verbatim reports of 'he said' vs 'somebody else said', which is a neutral approach, but two arguments for the price of one is NOT an argument -- particularly if they are self-negating and hence, inconclusive.

Instead, I prefer turning the essay question back on myself. I don't care what the eternally conflicting straw-men have to say about the issue. What's important is what I think of the unvarnished truth of the matter. While I rail at the world, I am still able to 'balance' my argument by identifying the imperfections that make up the world and our experience of it, rather than shoehorning in balance via the polar antithesis of the question.

Anyway, here's what I think of the 'pursuit of excellence' and whether is is ALWAYS beneficial to [my] country: absolutely, unequivocally yes!

Edit 01:
Coincidentally, I just read this article about the intentional propagation of ignorance by the BBC, making me wonder if we were actively teaching kids to stay ignorant by teaching them to argue through polar opposites.

Staffed duck

Staff retreat. Just ridin' a Duck and feeling like a tourist in my own country.

Getting our flippers wet

Water under the bridge

City skyline

I don't get seasick, else I'd be doing the same

The Sands: view from the Bay

Trusty duck

Don't wanna go back to school!

To Liu who wrote:

Globalisation could negate efforts in skills upgrading

From Liu Rijing -

October 6

I refer to The Big Read article “Despite being vulnerable, few PMETs heed call to learn new skills” (Oct 1) and wish to raise a few points.

First, threats to jobs come not only from technological change but also globalisation.

So how can we be sure that learning new skills will ensure we do not lose out to global competition when companies relocate owing to cost considerations?

Second is whether a new skill one picks up would still be in demand after one has spent time and money to complete the training.

Third, when companies can choose to outsource professional work to a worker based in a foreign country with a lower salary, how can skills upgrading help then? (Today Online)

If you are looking for assurances, there are none. Sorry. But if you don't want to undergo skills upgrading, that's fine. When enough of us refuse to do so, there will be more opportunities for overseas companies to outsource their crappy, low-skilled, underpaid, exploitative, dangerous jobs to us. That should put your overarching fear of unemployment to rest.

10 cents for career counselling, thanks!

Wanna bet?

People are understandably concerned about the legalization of online betting in S'pore within the next month or two. Going online makes it more convenient to place bets via mobile app than having to trudge down and queue up at the corner betting store. But will convenience alone cause a spike in gambling as our concerned citizens fear? I doubt it.

This convenience comes with a price: the ability for the authorities to identify individual bettors, track how much each is wagering per transaction and establish their betting patterns over time. Cross-referenced against personal incomes, disproportionate or suspicious spending on bets can be flagged out for intervention if necessary.

If I were a betting man, I'd still go to the corner shop and place an anonymous bet with less-traceable cash. Only if I win big will the world know who I am. Until then, how I bet and what I bet on is nobody else's business. And as a non-betting man, I see more disincentive than incentive to start.

Who's an unhappy camper?

S'poreans show their unhappy side again, this time with their employment situation. That is, compared across the board against our South-East Asian counterparts, our employees are the most unhappy.

I wonder what we would see if we cross-reference our job happiness index against a corresponding survey on general income levels? My guess would be that S'poreans are educated, and have expectations of higher income and better job prospects that are set somewhat above realistic; whereas our neighbours are happy to have a job that puts food on the table for their families.

This observation is intended to be neither snarky nor mean. It's probably a human trait that when we have more we make ourselves unhappy by wanting even more; conversely when we have but a little, we are happy being grateful for that little.

We also seem to be looking at the wrong things to be happy about:

Singapore respondents felt that getting a new job (30 per cent), a higher salary (19 per cent), or receiving recognition from the company (9 per cent) would help increase their job happiness.

These perks offer immediate gratification. But they don't come around too often, and when they do, they usually also come with more work, more responsibilities, and more time spent in the office -- side-effects that make us more unhappy in the long run. We accept them anyway, in order to justify the happiness we feel from achieving these very temporary rewards.

We actually have a good problem. To be able to have and want more is a good thing. But it means that if we also want to be happy, all we need to do is realise that happiness is a choice we make for ourselves. Choose wisely!

An afterthought: perhaps the jobs of Management and Middle-management are inherently unhappy? Managers neither own the company nor do much of the actual production work, so they are sort of in-between, easily replaceable and sometimes even an obstacle to getting real work done. Who'd be happy in a job like that?

Getting through

T -1 day to promotional exams. The going metaphor is that the exams are like a door to get through, which makes sense. Once past that door, the successful get to face a new arena containing a new set of trials and tribulations to traverse before they arrive at the next door.

Some kids think that they need a 'passport' or a 'password' to get through the door, and that they can find it in the assigned reading materials or last-minute hints dropped by their tutors in the last days leading up to the exams. But they are being silly. The fact is, there is no one guarding the door to hear the password or stamp the passport. The door is simply locked.

Who has the key, then? The good news is, there is no 'Master' key, so there is no need to scramble for a limited resource that doesn't exist. There is also no need to acquire a key in a standard design, because there isn't one either. Remember the trials and tribulations mentioned above? They exist to train each student how to pick the lock for themselves. Yes, not a key, but a set of lock-picking tools unlocks the door to the next level.

I like the lock-pick metaphor because unlike keys; passports; and passwords that only work once per door, we always hold on to our lock-picks, find new ways to manipulate them and pick up new upgrades along the way. Lock-picks work on every door, and how they are used is unique to the user, as long as they consistently practice their skills, being in the moment and not constantly worrying about the next door ahead.

Cliched, but if people valued the journey rather than the destination, they'd have less anxiety approaching their exams.

It's just a job

My Teachers Day thoughts, though a bit belated:

I'm a teacher. That's my job. But don't expect me bend over backwards and rip my own heart out to help each kid pass their exams when they aren't.

My best teachers were those who taught me nothing. They didn't pretend that their words were gospel or that if I didn't heed them, my life was over. They did share their ideas, but let me form my own thoughts and reach my own conclusions, and we had enjoyable tutorial discussions because of this kind of mutual understanding. They were an interested audience to my exploration of less popular pathways of coursework and were pleased to give me space and independence to bring back my discoveries for evaluation. Though they often graded my work with raised eyebrows, they were fair as well.

For my own part, all I really am is just some dude who picked up a couple of skills over a few decades of experience. All I do is pass them on to those who need them and can make use of them. I entertain no further aspirations nor illusions about this job my mother tells people I have.

The mask that students wear

The biggest stress factor in being a student is being a student. The "student" is a mask that kids wear to play a game involving arbitrary and often unnecessarily petty rules of conduct and impossibly difficult tasks that have little to no bearing on who they really are under their masks. The students we meet in class are pale shells of who they really are. It is when they are not in school that's where we find their true selves.

Keeping the two identities apart for a sustained period every school day makes school the torture that it is for most kids. The ones who suffer the most are the ones who have the clearest sense of self identity -- the musicians, the dancers, the athletes, the computer whizzes and the entrepreneurs -- who have to keep their real selves hidden while they pretend to be sheep when in school.

The identity of the "student" is formless and shapeless. Always incomplete, and hence always having to defer to the wisdom and authority of the "teacher". Students have nothing to say because they don't know enough. They are lumps of clay or rock which submit to the hands of the teacher who sculpts and molds them to whatever shape the school needs them to be -- usually a cube or a brick that easily fits in with everybody else who has been successfully 'bricked' after doing their required schooling time in their turn.

Schools and parents emphasize that exams are their kids' top priority. Everything else can wait until all the prerequisite 'A's have been garnered and paraded among family members and the education community. All the more so among the tuition agencies for whom exam results are their raison d'etre thus making the "student" identity perfectly solid. In the meantime, the identities which have been kept hidden often get forgotten or shelved in the process of brick-making.

Kids hate school because schools subvert individual identity, and level every student towards the lowest common denominator. The tasks they are assigned, the subjects they grapple with, the pressure they get to do their best apply to their student selves, but are completely irrelevant to their real selves. On our part, as teachers, we are stymied as to how to motivate our kids to work harder and do better; and for other kids who have no identity beyond the mask they wear, how to manage their stress before they go bonkers.

What if kids and schools agreed to dispense with the "student" mask and allow their true selves to flourish instead? We take the emphasis away from common exams in favour of allowing the kids to develop themselves as musicians, dancers, and whatever else they see themselves as first. Rather than have them suppress their talents and put them aside to study for exams, we show them how being smart in their academics supports their personal development and helps them become better at what they are or want to be good at. While they develop their physicality and skills, we train them in becoming better thinkers, analysts, strategists, and storytellers. That way, the exams make sense as they become part and parcel of their overall development rather than as a separate and unrelated obstacle they have to overcome before they are allowed to chase their dreams.

I'm not asking for much to change other than mindset. I want us teachers to recognise that we are supporting the cognitive development of individual people offering a wide variety of talents and abilities, rather than training a common mass of drooling zombies to jump through exam hoops. I want kids to bring their true selves to school and to class -- the ones who know who they are and who they want to be successful as, and not the "student" who only does things because they are told to do things.

A good school isn't the one that goes all-out to deliver the best exam results. It's the one which develops its kids to be whatever they want to be first, then good exam results follow as an after-effect.

Essay as a verb

It's always interesting to look at kids' faces the moment they flip over the essay test, scan through the question list and realize that they don't know the answer to any of the questions. There is shock, confusion and, more often than not, a look of having been betrayed.

It's true. The questions are seldom like what we had discussed in tutorials before, and deliberately so. No one is supposed to know the answer to an essay question beforehand. If anyone does, they probably cheated. Or worse, they think they know but they are operating on flawed assumptions at the very least.

The essay is the result of an activity -- in this case, the activity of essaying. Yes, 'essay' is a verb meaning 'to try', 'to put to the test' and 'to make trial of'. Look it up. Knowing the answer beforehand, therefore is prejudicing the outcome of a test or a trial.

The essay proceeds as a trial. There is the accused who is accused of a crime. The essayist has the prerogative to present the case as either prosecution or defence. Based on whatever due diligence they had done prior to the trial -- through research, study, tutorial activity, and topical readings for example -- the essayist has to improvise putting together the case and then presenting it formally as the essay submission for grading by the marker who plays the role of the judge.

Spending tutorial time preparing kids in advance with pre-digested answers does them a disservice, and is a waste of time. While we can and do help the kids with content material which is key to their case preparation, they need far more practice in courtroom procedure. As lawyers, their job is to develop their arguments through asking the right people the right questions in order to arrive at the conclusion that is most favourable to whichever side of the case they stand on.

The hard part of teaching kids to ask questions is in figuring out how to get them to switch off the parts of the brain that makes them think like parrots, and how to activate the other parts of the brain that make them think like people.

National Day 2016

National Day 2016 begins with an early morning walk along the Marina Bay area with dogs in tow. Also a good opportunity to GO, if you know what I mean. Heh.

Good food goes with good company. Not finding the cafe we intended to park ourselves and dogs, we blundered into Bread Street, which gladly accepted our canine companions at the al fresco tables. When we were being seated, it dawned on us that this was the Bread Street by Gordon Ramsey.

To our relief, the price of breakfast was very reasonable. That is to say, not different from anywhere else that serves a similar menu. My Eggs Benedict was delightful. Eggs poached without being too runny on top of a generous helping of smoked salmon on top of a crispy, fluffy inside English muffin. The whole thing held together by a lovely Hollandaise sauce, creamy and smooth. Staff were attentive and friendly, offering our dogs iced water with lots of ice.

Scored tix to National Day Parade 2016. It was the debut of the new National Stadium as an NDP venue. A big flash and light show, the presentation was spectacular, but relied so much on special effects that much of the human element got lost during the mobile display segments. Dance movements were barely visible, overwhelmed by the massive sets and the barrage of ever-changing colours in a constant swirl. Individual performers were barely recognizable in the mass, lost in the alternations of bright and dark spaces in the performing area.

 Acted on some good advice and left the stadium just at the start of the finale to go outside and get a good view of the fireworks.

We picked out a great spot with fireworks almost literally exploding above our heads. Never been so close before. A superb closure to a fulfilling public holiday!

Orientation

With all this angst and rage over university orientation programmes leading to a full-on ban on orientation this year, I recall my own experience as a frosh during orientation week.

Every activity was voluntary. The ones I remember were a lunchtime concert by a homegrown band called 'Nacho Cheese' which never made it to big time; an evening double-bill movie screening of A Clockwork Orange and The Rocky Horror Picture Show (an experience of which I have never seen the like, and have not yet found found possible to duplicate); and a serious talk about responsible drinking on campus. There was a social tea event for scholarship students to meet each other and key faculty members as well.

I think it was Prof G who observed that orientation at York was much tamer more mature than most of the other Us in the province -- mainly due to our student population's average age being 25, including a large proportion of grad students. Sure, mature and dignified. That's us.

The baseball-equity cartoon

No, no, no. The above cartoon attempts to explain how equality does not necessarily mean fairness. Actually, what our three friends are demonstrating is criminal activity -- watching a game without paying for a ticket. How are these three moochers being fair to those people in the stands who paid for entry?

In the right panel, all barriers to accessing the game have collapsed. And because nobody needs to buy a ticket, the sport has no more money to maintain a nice, fancy stadium any longer; all the pros have lost their jobs. Goodness knows what our three friends are still watching. Happy now?

Unless... the transparent fence represents a TV screen? It doesn't cost as much to watch a televised game, and every viewer has clear line-of-sight to the action, regardless of how vertically-challenged they may be. The stadium still functions and the professional players are still employed.

All the tweaks we might make meddling with human political systems for the sake of 'fairness' will always leave some party or another dissatisfied. It is perhaps technology that is the greatest leveler in the end.

Footnote: Located the original artist of the graphic. Craig Froehle is now tracking in fascinating detail the meme he created. Click here for an interesting read into how it has spread in its many permutations since its conception in 2012.

The gentle art of fencing

Teaching kids to argue is like issuing each of them a personal sword and teaching them to fence. At first, they are all excited with the weapon in their hand. They wave it around, wildly slicing the air and make sound effects as they play with their new toy [it's NOT a toy].

When the excitement has died down and they are calmer, maybe they will start paying attention to the rules of the sport. The most important rule: stop looking at your opponent's sword. As fun as it may be, the score is not counted by the number of times you hear the sound of metal hitting metal.

In this game, you keep your eyes on the target. You win by stabbing your opponent through the heart.

Last show of the season

[NYeDC in rehearsal at The Arts House]

Just when we thought we were done for the 2016 season, Sirius engineered an invite for NYeDC to perform at Celebrate Drama! 2016. The theme was "Celebrating Diversity", and it so happened that one of the items at Drama Night suited the bill. Not sure how the item entitled, "The Outsiders", fit the definition of "celebrate" but it was about the exclusion of foreign workers from the society they work in and for.

Our biggest problem was that in its original form, the script was very harsh in tone. While we tried to play it for laughs, our in-house audience saw little humour in it as the behaviour depicted was critical and accusatory of our local population. In rebooting the script, we initially struggled with feelings of being censored by our audience feedback. It was hurtful that this item, featuring one of our stronger scripts, was not as well-received as we hoped, and that to be allowed to perform it in public, we had to "balance" the treatment ad make it less insulting to to the people we meant to insult -- or at least to make them reflect on their treatment of foreign workers.

So, how to make the narrative more audience-friendly without watering down our authorial intent? First, we took out all specific location references and kept them to "foreign" and "local", suggesting the same situations could occur anywhere in the world. Then we gave the characters some psychological and emotional depth so that they no longer were playing out stereotypical scenarios to amuse one another (as in the original script), but rather to depict personal experiences and explore how the discriminated feel about being discriminated against. We kept the Singlish delivery because it sounded more real to the narrative.

Having taken audience feedback and reworking the parts that didn't work, we eventually devised a much stronger script than before. The item carried more weight and more authenticity. The situations were still absurd, but the intentions and emotional linkages were much clearer for both the performers and the audience.

And at the end, the one performing the closing monologue delivered with real emotion: the tears; the cracking voice; the breath pattern; the pauses; all real and nothing like we had ever seen her rehearse before. We couldn't have asked for a more powerful closure. Later, we asked her if the script really meant that much to her. And she said she was really feeling the weight of this performance... being the last one of the season! #oscarmoment

Anyway, such an exciting run for the 2015-6 batch of NYeDC members. The 2016-7 lot have big boots to fill.