An unusually harrowing week ends on a pretty decent note. I've got a crew of sporting, slightly mad staff eager to make a spectacle of ourselves on stage at our nat day concert next week. For once, I have to yell at people and tell them to "Stoppit! No! Behave!" So much better to work with these guys who are willing to go over the top right from the beginning, than a bunch of drooling mouth-breathers who just wait around until someone tells them what to do. In any case, from zero idea, we've worked out a basic story-line, eschewing lyrical dance (which was Loke's original idea) for simple mime movement instead. We have yet to set it to music, but I think we've made impressive progress as of today.

And since it's Sha's birthday this weekend, we had dinner with her at Ichiban Boshi, AMK Hub. But because we were busy with different things at different times, different shifts of friends ate with her. It was an odd combination that I came with -- Mel, Wayne and Paul -- and we joined Sha so late she was about to have dessert while we were still looking at our menus. Conversation was loud and hilarious, innuendo flung around the table with wild abandon. Yeah, TGIF!

I've never seen so many piles of homework hit me like this before. I have assignments, tests, assessments, timed exercises, all pounding down around me like the prelude to a world-ending asteroid strike.

Then there are still a number of other little deadlines to tag (including tomorrow's Career Chat I'll be sharing with Amy at which all the sordid details of my time-obscured mime career will be put to public scrutiny, as will Amy's daily grind of ambulance-chasing as a tabloid journo).

There's also a little matter of a National Day item to rehearse for -- it goes public next week and our crew have no idea what we're doing yet!!! *hyperventilates into a brown paper bag that smells faintly of yesterday's ham sandwich

Oh, and the last 2 nights expending muscle and gasoline power helping the in-laws move into their new place add another layer of fatigue to this week's schedule. And as far as I can tell, the end is not yet in sight...

No peace for the wicked (Is 57:21).

Another week of deadlines to meet on top of everything else. We're like hamsters in a fish tank paddling like mad to keep our heads above water. Who asked us to be greedy for fish?

Got a fresh pile of essays to mark, and expecting another set in the coming week. Too busy and tired to make a proper entry tonight. NYconneXions has been updated, though, if you want something to read... zzz.

Another essay exercise for my kids means another essay from me to entertain myself with while overseeing the task. Question reads: "Science cannot explain everything; religion can. Discuss."

In answering the question I tried to be objective. Instead, I ended up sounding more aetheistic than anything else. Oh, well. Click here if you must.

Dinner at Mad Jack, in Jln Kayu. The old Teochew porridge place is long gone, and has since been replaced by this Aussie-styled burger joint.

This place offers a Halal menu, so no Q-tips permitted on the premises. Poor thing.

For just slightly higher than food court prices, we got a burger and a striploin steak. They offer a triple-deck burger they call a "Blue Mountain", but I chickened out of that challenge and went with the reg'lar ol' single-patty variety. On hindsight, I think I could have taken on a Blue Mountain and survived.

Love the patty. Tastes freshly hand-made before grilling. There's no filler or other nonsense holding the patty together, so it's pure meat and can still fall apart in the sandwich. Never mind, that's why they provide forks.

The fries are large but surprisingly light and fluffy, and go nicely with the Heinz ketchup proudly displayed on every table.

Still, while the food's pretty decent, I feel it lacks the presentation of, say, Botak Jones. Mad Jack's is stark, minimalist and fuctional, whereas Jones is overwhelming with the largesse of their portions.

Jones still rules the big burger places here in S'pore.

NYconneX seems to have touched a nerve with last week's project work article! And I couldn't be happier! There is a real discussion going on with angry, angsty comments in the tagboard. Finally, we're getting to the point where our readers are opening up and speaking their minds. Perhaps they aren't so apathetic after all.

The beef is about how some JCs have attained a miserable "A" "B" grade percentage in last year's assessment compared to others scoring astronomical results. The kids are upset that for many of them, their efforts didn't score them an "A" and they are bemoaning that PW is just a waste of time, should be scrapped... whine, whimper, sob.

There's no consistency in the grading, and supervisors have their own interpretation of what's important and give conflicting advice, depending on who's asking and who's answering. In other words, PW is one big giant complete mess and so what's the point?

People, arise and savour the olfactory sensation of fresh brewed caffeine. In the real world, there IS no consistency. Unless a group firmly believes in the worth of what it's doing (like maybe the Al-Qaeda), projects usually put people who hate each other together to work towards a common but highly negotiated, diluted, compromised goal. Group members are hell to work with -- we have control freaks; leave-me-aloners; slackers who need fork-lift assistance to help them turn over in their beds; slave-drivers; just to name a few. And in the real world, project failure is more common than project success.

An even bigger mystery is how some projects can be so utterly crap (check out the multitudinous complaints directed at the iPhone, for example) and yet, they are such commercial successes. NASA engineers scribble ideas on pub napkins (see Wolfe's "The Right Stuff") and they send astronauts to the moon and back. In short, why some projects succeed and so many others fail, no one can say for certain.

Part of the reason for a successful project could be in the way the project is ultimately sold. Regardless of how much effort goes into a project, how well it has been researched and tested, if no one buys it (literally and figuratively) it's wastebasket material. For our kids, I think many lose points for being unable to carry themselves confidently at the oral presentation. If they doubt their own project, it shows. If project members haven't been carrying their own weight, it shows. If the team lacks unity, it shows. If you don't believe in your own product, or your own rationale for doing it, who will? I wouldn't buy your product if your pitch went, "We don't know why we did it, but we won't go to university if we didn't." That's just stupid.

And what about The Grade itself? If we were grading the kids on how much effort they put into their project, how many late nights they spent on it, how many brain cells they sacrificed for it, how much TV and Nintendo time was lost because of the endless meetings and paperwork they had to file for it, and we didn't give them an "A", that would be grossly unfair of us. Unfortunately, that's not what we grade their projects on. Ultimately, we want a project that works, that is socially responsible in its benefits, and is something we can believe in. Give us something REAL, and maybe, just maybe, we'll appreciate what you are offering.

PW isn't about the grade, anyway. The learning comes more from the attempt and the experience in working with others towards a real and realistic objective. If you get an "A", maybe you'll get to go to the uni. But if you learn how to collaborate, solve problems, and sell your own creations to an audience, maybe you don't need university to get on in life, after all.

Caught the RSC double-bill over the weekend, together with the lit and drama kids. It was wonderful to see how lengthy Shakespearean speeches could be so visually arresting as they are being delivered. The actors move, position and pace themselves so well, the audience is looking at a constantly moving picture that is coherent with the speech. Nothing random or incidental in the movement, but nothing static either; King Lear may have been nearly 3 hours long but it was a fascinating experience nonetheless.

The costumes were lush, rich fabrics with very striking colours -- quite a contrast to the simple pragmatic set that transitioned quite seamlessly with the action. Set changes took place in full view of the audience, though in half-light. Like characters themselves, each piece of set entered with purpose and exited with purpose, so even these brief in-between periods were interesting to watch.

And the story itself is as relevant today as it was way back when. Who's gonna look after senile old dad once the error message on his ATM reads "Insufficient funds"? Even though the old man hasn't actually lost his wits -- well, not all of them anyway -- neither of his daughters whom he has generously given all his assets to will put up with his excesses, and instead plot to remove the decrepit inconvenience once and for all. Too bad the country has to got to war as a result.

Sir Ian got a well-deserved standing ovation for his portrayal of the old king. Such a range of human emotion, and such a drastic change of status plus the intermediate stages in between the extremes already isn't easy to play, let alone the fine balance between sanity and stark raving nuts that the old king teeters on. Whoa.

Chekhov's The Seagull was another quality production of the RSC. Played in contemporary English, it was a little easier to follow than King Lear, though the plot is just as convoluted. As Sir Ian clued us in on Friday, most of the characters are plagued with self-doubt. They struggle to meet their own expectations, which are what they perceive society expects of them.

Everyone is unhappy because they can't get what they want, particularly in the area of love. Each is in love with someone who is in love with someone else. In the attempt to gain the favour or even the attention of the one they love, several characters embark on a self-destructive trail leading deeper and deeper into despair. Some characters deal with their situation better than others, of course.

I guess this is true for the human condition. People's desires can never truly be satisfied, with each success, each conquest simply being an eye-opener to new heights to scale, new goals to achieve. Perhaps it's the difference between those who curse God for what they don't have rather than thank him for what they do.

Still, having said that, I personally support our right to be unhappy. I'd rather live knowing there's more to life out there, than being satisfied thinking that was all there was to life. Faint heart ne'er fair hand won.

Hey, 'deep, here's a recording of Sir Ian's spellbinding recitation so we'll never forget it!

Our special guest on campus today was Sir Ian McKellen whom his hosts, SRT, brought over. The RSC's on tour in the region and this was an opportunity to get up close and personal with the people in their host country, and our opportunity to interact with a real theatre professional with years of experience under his belt.

His audience were most of our lit and Drama Club kids, all of whom have bought tix to watch King Lear tomorrow night, and Seagull on Sunday afternoon. So this was an opportunity for them to thank us for our enthusiastic support.

There was a lot of excitement among the kids, and LT3 was buzzing right up to the time our guest walked in. The most keyed up must have been Mel, who played hostess to the event. She looked to the furniture arrangements, refreshments, liaison with SRT, and even as she assigned us staff with various duties to carry out (I got to be official PowerPoint slide clicker) we all took terms to calm her down. For the last couple of days as she was arranging this visit, she was a nervous wreck.

Sir Ian was a gracious guest. He thrilled the Drama Club's "Othello" main cast by identifying each one in the audience and addressing them in turn. Very few people can make this combination of literary, theatrical, arts kids quiet for long, but as he spoke, the kids hung onto every word. Whether he shared his personal theatre experiences, his observations of the Hollywood film set, or the real need for the world to seek acceptance for diversity, or his delivery of a 16th Century speech by Sir Thomas Moore, he had the crowd in awe.

Sir Ian's purpose was to promote theatre among the young people, and I hope that what he saw of "Othello" in the pix we showed him showed him that Drama is alive and well in NY! His other message to us was about welcoming the stranger, the foreign-born visitor to our land, which is a highly pertinent one for us to remember. For one thing, we commemorated Racial Harmony Day (not that I think he knew anything about it) today, and for another, it's important to remember that we are an immigrant nation after all, so if anyone needs to be nice to foreigners, it's us!

More pix:

Bade farewell to Gerald's dad who lived 6 more years after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. June and I dropped in at the wake for a short while, then had to go up north to help M-i-L begin her move her new house. Fortunately, the new place is only a few blocks away from the old one, and with the 2 trips we made with M2 stuffed to the brim with odd bits of barang-barang, we officially commenced the exodus.

The APEX people have finally uploaded their comments about NYconneX: "Intriguing presentation of very well-written, involving content -- a site full of appealing stories, reviews, news, and staff biographies makes for an interesting and very inviting site."

Not sure where they got staff bios from, but at least we know what worked. Now it's time to ramp up quality control for the new management team. APEX has linked our URL to their site, and we're already starting to get hits from the outside world.

The 'Swarm Theory' article in Nat Geo (07/07) has redefined the way I view leadership. (Warning: this entry contains more than a little self-indulgence, prolonged perusal of which may cause headaches or narcoleptic seizures).

I was observing Mel today and couldn't help wondering how it was that she could initiate a project that would cost students nearly $100 each, and she still had over a hundred students sign up for it. Similarly, Amy just announces on the quiet, "Let's go watch Shrek," and 500 kids sign up, pay their money, and Eng Wah's never seen a better afternoon crowd on a Monday.

If I tried something like that, I'd probably get about 12 kids signing up in total, and 8 kids will call me on the day to tell me they're dropping out, and can they have their money back, please.

Now I see the answer possibly lies in our different styles of leadership philosophy, and paradoxically, while their styles are particularly suited to lead people, my style works more like how Swarm Theory works.

First, I'm actually quite horrified with the 'hive-mind' mentality. There's no individuality, no free-will, just mindlessly doing the bidding of a central intelligence that does all the pre-thinking for the collective. Star Trek's Borg collective, for example, purports itself as functioning under a hive-mind. There is only one Queen who makes all the decisions, while the individual Borg do whatever she tells them to do, then go back into their closets when they're done. Often, they wind up dead.

But, surprise! The above scenario is quite the opposite from how swarms operate! The scenario is more reminiscent of how human beings organize themselves. A central government, often under the leadership of a charismatic personage, that rules by limiting the choices of the people. And people, while in love with the illusion of 'self-determination', actually like to be told what to do because it takes the responsibility and burden of choice off their shoulders. Life, after all, is complicated enough as it is.

This sort of leadership requires careful planning on the part of the central deciding body. It anticipates problems; plans contingencies; allocates resources; draws up SOPs, rules and regulations; and concerns itself with the 'fairness' of job allocation (you can abuse people however you like, as long as they still have the inalienable freedom to complain).

Each stage of planning reduces the choices people can make. The more detailed the plan, the more structured and organized it is, the fewer options are left for the individual worker to deal with. Hence, people gravitate towards micromanaged organizations which make the masses move more or less forward towards a predetermined objective. Predetermined, that is, by the leadership.

While Mel and Amy set very admirable objectives that benefit their students no end, other less selfless leaders have used central control to build monuments to themselves at the expense of their followers, or leave legacies of horror in their wake. In situations where individuals need to exercise thought and moral consideration, central control switches off the individual's mind, and absolved of choice, the individual simply "obeys orders". Think of the central controlling agencies of the Nazis, or the blind obedience of extremists to fatwahs issuing from dubious authorities with questionable motives, and we see how the system fails its followers, and harms others that are not part of the system.

On the other hand, it is the characteristic of swarms to have neither management nor organization that is held within an exclusive group of individuals that sets itself above the mass. The Queen bee simply lays eggs, and doesn't "control" the movements of any other bee, worker, soldier or drone. Each individual simply does its job based on the need.

No individual has a collective "big picture". They only see what's in front of them, but this information is relayed in an ever expanding chain (of information and not command, mind you) so that the collective group "knows" what needs to be done, what actions need to be taken, even if the individual has no clue what's going on.

When decisions have to be made for the group, personal evaluations are made of the options given, a simple voting process takes place (see experiment with how the test bees choose their new hive) and the majority wins with no repercussions on the losing voters. By swarm intelligence, the decision is almost always the correct one.

It seems odd to me that in a swarm, every individual exists as an individual and is respected as an individual. Every individual is trusted to do what is necessary at the time it is needed, without having to be told what to do. There is way more freedom in a swarm than in a democracy. How about that?

Unfortunately, human beings cannot move like a swarm. People place too much vested interest in themselves and so they can never feel equal to anyone else around them. People either desire to rise above their neighbours and dictate their desires for the group to comply to, or they feel powerless and refuse to make decisions even for themselves.

I certainly am no leader of people. I am a swarm of one.

Just brilliant. I get upset by a printer that refuses to print, and I take it out on the first person to say the wrong thing to me. And NBS was, I believe in all sincerity, just trying to be nice. My response was uncalled for. I wasn't being ironic, sarcastic, or even remotely humourous, as I am on the rare occasion. It was pure bile and rudeness, and immediately regretted the moment it came out. Way ta go, idiot. You really know how to push people away.

Fortunately, NBS isn't the over-the-top emo type. I don't think she took it to heart. Apologies for being such a piss-pot this morning.

I've always preferred the company of women. When a bunch of guys get together, there's very little else they can do except compete with each other as to who the biggest jerk is. The winner gets to be the leader of the pack, then they go looking for another bunch of guys to prove how big a bunch of jerks they all are.

There, in a nutshell, is how basically every gangfight, battle and world war starts. It's just testosterone frothing wild and unchecked, and civilizations get swept away by the hormonal tsunami. Just point to any place on the map that is experiencing some kind of conflict today -- Pakistan, Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, southern Thailand, southern Philippines, Nigeria -- these are all hotspots for all those in contention for the Jerk of the Year award. These are also places in which testosterone has completely overbalanced estrogen -- either by physical demographic or by willful repression -- and there's no holding back the tide any longer.

Whether it's a government-backed army, a people's movement, a rebel force or terrorist organization, it's usually a large number of grizzled, unwashed, female-deprived males making up the main body. Maybe that's why God created Eve. Adam didn't need a 'helpmate' for assistance dealing with the animals around him, he needed help reining in the animal inside him.

Women, I find, are a civilizing influence, when they have the power to be themselves. For the sake of female company, men take the effort to smell nice, look presentable, practice basic courtesy, and have the opportunity to think of someone else besides ourselves. Ok, there are women who will observe that men are still seriously lacking in chivalry here in civilized S'pore. True, but we're not exactly the Taliban either.

Still, Asian society is something of a concern seeing as how our traditions place more value on boys than girls even today. Somehow, Asian families are finding ways and means of tipping the odds towards bringing forth offspring of their preferred gender, leaving a disconcerting numerical discrepancy between boys and girls growing up in the years to come.

It's bad enough when boys compete against each other for "fun", but when men compete with each other over women, that's when the s**t really hits the fan. That eventuality looks like it's not going to be long in coming:
Hainan's missing baby girls
Why baby boys are more sought after in Asian societies
Who will marry us?

Doh! Let's enjoy civilization while it lasts.

When I drive down Braddell towards Thomson, it always amazes me that the authorities actually bothered to split the road to preserve a giant angsana tree that's been standing in that exact spot for the last 80 years. It also amazes me that the tree is one of the oldest of its kind on our island. 80 years. My grandfather lived till he was 90. And by Sunday, this well-weathered octogenarian will be on the chopping block, yet another victim to Singaporean impatience and inflexibility.

Because, despite signposts and warnings, my fellow drivers refuse to slow down to accommodate the road diversion, thereby posing a danger to themselves and to other drivers on the road. It isn't like the little island the tree stands on pops up like a surprise, forcing drivers to slam on their brakes to slow down. The signs are clear and given well in advance, but still... around here, 'slow' is a worse profanity than that other 4-letter word.

And so, because our drivers are stupid, we lose yet another connection to the Earth, another reminder that our planet doesn't exist for the human species alone. In our mania to travel in straight lines at great speeds, we forget to bend, to sway, to enjoy being flexible and appreciate the variety of pace and rhythm, and everything else that makes life interesting in its diversity. And we shrug our shoulders while we complain how stressful life is.

It isn't just about a tree -- although that is sad in itself -- but there's a price to be paid for such callous treatment of things that inconvenience us in the slightest. The immediate punishment is to bear the shame of being associated with the many drivers that ultimately signed the old tree's death-warrant. The longer-term consequences that will befall us as a people for harboring such an attitude, I dare not even speculate.

You have to respect Dolores Umbridge. Of all the teachers at Hogwarts', she may be the most facistic, sadistic, self-righteous, self-aggrandizing, pain-in-the-butt on the staff roster, but you really must take your magic hat off to her grasp of pedagogy and how she applies it.

None of the students in the Defence of the Dark Arts ever learned the subject faster than when she was in charge. Her strategy is simple, straightforward, but most importantly, effective. She alienates herself from most of the student body (except for the students looking for empty titles and commissions), rules by decree and terror, clamps down on freedom, withholds knowledge, emphasizes theory over practice, and instead enforces study solely for the sake of passing exams. Hmm... sounds familiar.

Umbridge is such a horror, Harry and co. decide they aren't learning anything useful from her and they start teaching themselves, designing their own curriculum, and by fusing both theory and practice in their study, they are producing their own patronus by year-end -- advanced stuff for their level. People may hate her affected mannerisms, but, boy, the Umbridge Method brings quality results in the shortest given time!

Wonder if our students would take their subjects into their own hands if we stopped being nice to them, and started behaving more like Nazis and less like their friends? One thing I'll say about the Hogwarts' kids is that they trust and respect each other enough to accept teaching from their peers. What I worry about is that our kids have been raised to be so self-deprecating, so teacher-dependent they won't be able to do likewise.

Welcome to Urban Pooch -- a doggy day-care, grooming, supply store and cafe catering to the discerning palates of both human and K9 companion. Urban Pooch is at Monville Mansions, off Balestier Road. It's a tranquil little oasis compared to the heavy traffic of the main thoroughfare.

Finally, an eating place that's totally dog-friendly and specially licensed to welcome the likes of Q-tip's species. Here, people and dog may eat in peace at the same table. They won't necessarily eat the same food, but the doggy portion looks just as well presented as the human. Chix or lamb, Q-tip?

Service is very personal, since Raye seems to run the operation by herself. I think one of her perks is meeting all sorts of dogs and giving each one an adoring pat on the head. She's quite polite to their owners too.

Main courses come with a side of sup du jour. Today's happened to be a creamy homemade mushroom soup.

I ordered a honey pepper chicken and it came with a colourful side salad. Doesn't it look attractive?

One thing about the food, though, the doctrine here is to go big on taste. The chicken marinade is very generous, thick and rich. Personally, I prefer a more subtle flavour. I like my meats to speak for themselves, but then, I'm a purist about this sort of thing.

I believe the portions are cooked by the order, so next time I'll just remind Raye to go easy on the sauces and keep the meat simple.

If I had a superpower, it would probably be a very limited ability to warp reality to suit my whims and fancies. But it's not a power I have any semblance of control over, though.

Just last Sunday while shopping with June, I had a sudden inexplicable craving for donuts. I must have had a mental flashback of the Krispy Kreme in HK, but since there was no outlet within walking distance from Causeway Point, I had to settle for a plain sugared donut from BreadTalk. It wasn't bad, but not quite what I had in mind.

It takes about 2 days for my reality-warping power to kick in. Awaiting me on my desk at work this morning was a huge box from the Donut Factory containing a chocolate glazed and a plain glazed just for me. It was a Department treat and a motivational boost from Cynth. Must thank her for bothering to line up for them, and for somehow guessing the one item that would perk me up the most. Thanks, Cynth!!!

Then later at dinner with my in-laws, May, who just returned from the US miraculously produced 2 more donuts from... the one, the only, Krispy Kreme! How amazing is that?

So here I sit, stuffed full with a grand total of 4 quality donuts in a single day, eyes glazing over from the sugar rush that's kicking in right about now. What a great superpower!

Now, this is looking like the height of terrorism paranoia:

JI turns to business to help fund activities
It is believed to be selling magazines, VCDs, fertiliser, bread and coffee
By Leslie Lopez, South-east Asia Correspondent

JAKARTA - REGIONAL terrorist group Jemaah Islamiah (JI) appears to have gone into business to help fund its activities.

Suspected JI-linked groups have been selling magazines, VCDs, industrial items such as fertiliser and even everyday goods such as bread and coffee, an investigation by The Straits Times showed.

These businesses operate mostly in Indonesia. (ST, July 9, 2007)

'Ey, brudder, come inside lah. Don’t shy. Going shopping for the wife, ah? You come to the right place, man! What? Ya, ya, we just open shop. Everything also we got.

Groceries? Ya, we got bread. White bread, no problem… it’s my pleasure to take out my knife and slice the head off for you first, wait ah… Oh, you want the long one, izzit? Ah, that one very good for roti bomb, I mean, roti John, right? Can, can.

And coffee? Don’t worry, I got the best kind! It’s so strong, it can keep you awake long enough for you to drive your car through an infidel checkpoint just to see some fireworks! A once-in-a-lifetime experience, guaranteed!

You want to see some of my special stocks? Behind that shelf are our more… ahem!… restricted magazines and VCDs. Everything you want to know about the art of stripping weapons and laying bare the secrets of how to be the bomb at parties, I got!

I also got the latest Playjihadist™ where the centerfold model is fully spread out in little bits and pieces all over a public road. She's so hot, she's still smokin' -- show you everything she’s got under her ski-mask, and more!

Oh, fertilizer for your garden, ah? I tell you what, this one I specially import from that kuching kurap little red dot neighbour in the north. Ya, they call it the Straits Times™ but you and I know it’s really compost, correct or not?

Wah, your shopping basket is quite full already. Come, let me total up for you… Hmm? Oh, haha, this is a picture of my uncle, Osama. Ya, he’s my favourite uncle because his bins are always laden with good things. In fact, I get most of my supplies from him! I'm doing my best to support him in his old age, lah.

Brudder, if you don’t mind me saying, ah, why you let your wife make you go shopping for her? You should be more of a man, man! Eh, I know a place where you can get all the virgins you want, who exist just to give you pleasure. Come, follow me into the Men’s Department. There’s this extinguished, I mean distinguished, vest I’d like you to try. Ya, of course! You can’t make a big impression unless you’re dressed to kill…'