What was going to be a lazy, uneventful Saturday quite unexpectedly became an evening at Mount Vernon's Funeral Parlour 1. June's long-lost uncle whom she's not seen in years (yes, that's what 'long-lost' means...) passed on after a couple of months of health complications. From what I could understand, he finally succumbed to MRSA.

This evening, we attended the wake. It was something of a family reunion for June who hasn't seen many of her relatives for years either. While June was doing her catch-up, I was doing my best to glean whatever I could from several conversations that alternated between Mandarin and Cantonese. Fortunately, no-one tried to speak to me directly or June would have looked like she had married the village idiot with a speech impediment.

One thing I noticed about relatives who haven't seen each other for a while is that their conversations tend to turn towards how much things cost. Property, health-care, elderly care... not that people volunteer the information but because people will ask. People want to know how much things cost. Wonder if that's a typically S'porean concern?

After quite a few aborted attempts (this year), we finally got to meet Vince, Anthony and Des over dessert. Q-tip was with us, so we had to find a dog-friendly location. Happy Daze in Gardens was what we settled on.

It was great to talk nonsense and catch up with gossip again. Not a bad wind-down to a long day.

Partied with B-lo at Seoul Garden, Taka. It's quite a relief that she liked her pressie and wanted to use it immediately. So yesterday's shopping expedition ended well after all. Phew!

After dinner, June and I went down the hall to BEST Denki to try out an... appliance that I've had my eye on for a while. Since Sony's having an end-of-year sale, the price has come down quite a bit and since payday's coming, well, you know. The design's sleek and cool, the functions are versatile and idiot-proof (a very important consideration), and I was thinking, why not?

This was the first time ever that the sales guy actually talked me OUT of buying that which I came to buy. He basically told me -- based on previous customer feedback -- that the product had a great design, pretty with lots of bells and whistles, but was short on delivery. It is so idiot-proof it takes control out of the user's hands and makes its own decisions based on what it thinks is right. Too much software, not enough fidelity for me.

On one hand, that was a lot of honesty in a sales pitch. On the other, maybe his strategy was to get me to consider purchasing another more expensive option. Whichever it was, I left without making a purchase, but with a resolve to research a little more, and be a smarter consumer when I return another day.

Jack's Place has opened a franchise at SAFRA Yishun. It's called Eatzi Steakhouse & Bistro and it occupies the space that once housed the food court. Through the glass panels, there's a nice view of the swimming pool. Because of its air-conditioned comfort, this looks like a great place to have a lazy tea slightly later in the afternoon after the lunch crowd has left.

The pix shows the executive set lunch. Everything arrived at the table just minutes after ordering. As you can see, the baked potato is overflowing with a generous dollop of sour cream and a healthy sprinkling of bacon bits. The chef understands the concept of "rare", and there under a layer of brown sauce lies the ribeye on a bed of chopped onions.

One problem: they could have chosen for me a better cut of ribeye. Sad to say, this one was rather stringy with quite a bit of tendon material making it quite a chew-fest. Eventually, I took to cutting small chunks so it could go down easier. I'm not making too big a fuss about this though, because the meat itself was tender, it was the sinewy stuff that I could have done without.

Later, I went to explore the Central, looking for a gift. Central seems tres femme to me with so many stores for cosmetics, women's fashion and accessories. Thought that would be ideal to find the kind of gift I was looking for, but I got overwhelmed by the number of options and possibilities. So I went back to the mall I knew best, Funan Centre. Hence, this matching set of i-pod accessories.

Amy, HP, JY, Mel, Wayne, look what we've pooled our cash on for B-lo! See y'all at dinner tomorrow!

"Lamb" is a wicked retelling of the life of Josh the Nazarene through the perspective of Levi bar Alphaeus who is also called Biff, who has been friends with Josh since they were boys. Read "wicked" as you wish.

Author, Christopher Moore, takes the opportunity to fill in the gaps left behind in the Gospels regarding Josh's growing up period to the beginning of his ministry, then follows Josh behind the scenes to his eventual betrayal and execution on the cross. Biff's version of the Gospel story is, however, a very down-to-earth one focusing on Josh's humanity though not denying his divinity. In fact, the juxtaposition of human divinity is where the fun begins.

Biff is Josh's perfect human foil. Biff is foul-mouthed, violent, carnal, but also imaginative and a great improviser in times of trouble. Hence, he tells his version of the Gospel in like manner. His language we may describe as vernacular vulgaris in its crudest form, because 1) that's how Biff is, and 2) his newly presented "gift of tongues" gives him the ability to speak like a common profanity-spewing New Yorker, all the better to communicate with us in the modern world 2000 years after his death.

About the transitional years from boy to man that's missing from the Gospels, Biff picks up the story and relates their quest to find the wise men who visited Josh in the stable where he was born. From each wise man they study philosophy and discipline themselves in the skills they need for Josh's later ministry. To divine his Father's will, Josh focuses on developing his spirituality, while Biff studies poisons, explosives, the tantric arts and kung fu.

It's wonderful how Moore's imagination weaves together Josh and Biff's experiences on their travels to bring Josh to his particular insight into the nature of God, and the point of his ministry. Part of it is through coincidences in the texts of other holy scriptures, part is through life experiences Josh later recalls in his parables, and part is by making horrible puns. For example, because Josh absolutely refuses to hurt anyone, Gaspar's Himalayan monks have to develop a whole new martial arts style for him to practice. It's a style that uses the energy of an attack against itself. They call it, "Ju-do", meaning, "The way of the Jew". Arrrrggghhh! But when Josh is eventually tested and questioned by the Pharisees later in his life, the way he replies to them is a form of intellectual, rhetorical judo, isn't it so?

While all this mental juggling might sound pretty dry, Lamb is hilariously funny. Moore takes liberties with scriptural references, taking them out of context and using them in highly unlikely situations. He fleshes out the Apostles by assigning them each a fatal human flaw which they often tease each other about, and portrays them as extremely dense in the way that they don't get Josh's parables, and in their hopeless attempt to rescue Josh from his impending execution.

Despite all the profanity flung liberally around the pages, it's used as linguistic humour with no intention to insult the faith. Josh may be portrayed as quite human, but his character is respected. Biff himself, is almost always the butt of the jokes, and since he's never mentioned in any of the Gospels, Biff's the perfect straw-man to build the humour around.

Lamb is not going to be well-accepted by everybody, unfortunately. Because it plays on the sensitive issue of religious faith, it will highly offend those who feel that to take such liberties with sacred texts is sacrilegious. But those of us who can stomach it, Lamb's a terrific read.

It's hard to catch a falling star, but it helps if you have a magical binding chain and if the star could walk behind you on her own two legs wherever you wanted her to go. In "Stardust", everyone has a reason for desiring a piece of the star, Yvaine, who though minding her own business, gets accidentally knocked out of the sky in a contest for succession of the throne of the magical kingdom of Stormhold. And that's a simplified version of the movie plot.

To avoid overcomplication, the movie version of Stardust wisely keeps the focus on a single theme: no one is who they appear to be. Some, like the seven princes, have yet to achieve their potential and will kill and be killed trying. Others have their true identities taken away from them by enslavement or enchantment. Captain Shakespeare keeps his secret identity behind a mask of "reputation". Tristan's adventures are partially a discovery of his true heritage and partly a quest for his heart's desire.

Everyone experiences a transformational change, and though they don't necessarily welcome change, they simply accept it and cope with it as a matter of fact. The only ones that don't accept change are Lamia and her sisters (and probably Sisterhood as well). They are driven by their mania to freeze themselves in time, at the point when they were at their most beautiful, by hunting and consuming the warm, glowing heart of a fallen star. In their 400 years of existence, they have no other passion than lying to themselves that time can be cheated; and that's probably why they've ended up such bitter, malicious old biddies -- they never get what they desire.

And Yvaine herself, fallen star, is the only one who has no problems with her self-identity. She knows who she is and isn't shy to make full use of her self-knowledge. She becomes the movie's hottest quest item because of her extremely rare magical qualities, but her real value is in her power to be herself, true to herself at all times. Though that might sound boring, she's also sarcastic, short-tempered and entirely human, which rounds her out, and makes her quite a lovable character.

The plot may be complex, but Gaiman is quite a coherent storyteller. With gorgeous landscapes as a backdrop, and the occasional visual effects surprises (I was quite taken by the drowning-in-air sequence), Stardust is a thrill to watch. It's star shines especially bright as one of the few movies in 2007 that is not a sequel, and is not written to spin-off one either. It's a movie that practices what it preaches -- write it, shoot it, can it, and move on.

The recent gay debate has been very lively. Sparks flew from both camps with some very heated exchanges from people out to make a name for themselves adding spice to the contention.

For the rest of the population, frankly, we don't care. Perhaps today we are more aware of homosexual activity within our society, we are aware of the religious sensitivities of the more conservative segments of our society, we are aware of the tension that exists between the two poles. But as a people, we walk the deadest of the neutral line.

We don't have a problem with the issue. If no one says anything, we're fine. Everything's cool. It's all good. What we do have a problem with is when we feel we are being forced to take sides, to stand on one pole or another -- in critical thinking terms, we call that a "false dilemma". If it ever comes to that, we know what our stand will be: dropkick the extremist, and carry on pax status quo Rex, pardon my Latin.

Despite the vocal energy of both camps, I doubt that our society might be fracturing along the line drawn by Section 377A, like some people think. We're too apathetic for that to happen. Thank goodness.

The little monsters are beginning to twitch. Chief was livid this morning with the number of complaints she received about us. Did we ever get an earful. Most of the complaints were generally about how the kids got distracted with the things we were doing. Well, excuse us for breathing.

Someone (no, not me) got complained against for walking along the aisles, so today all he could do was to stand in the back of the venue and glower throughout his duty.

Kids, a word of advice: focus past your distractions and on your exam. Don't look at us as an excuse if your results don't turn out like you want. You have your job to do, so let us do ours.

'bladed ECP in an attempt to jumpstart a long-neglected fitness regimen. Suddenly owning pairs of trousers and jeans that have become uncomfortably tight at the waist is motivation enough.

Completed only a part of my planned route before I turned back. I wasn't tired, just bone-weary. Now I know the difference.

Bone-weary is when you get emotionally afflicted with the idea that no matter what you do, no matter who you're with, you'll ultimately end up heavy-hearted, saggy-shouldered and all alone (kind'a like in this pix, only less pleasant).

Could have been a delayed response to Dee's question at brekkie this morning: do I feel my age in my body (though why she should be asking about my body is beyond me)?

Things felt stranger after I'd got my 'blades off and my trainers back on again. My legs, now gotten used to balancing on wheels, kept pushing me forward -- faster, faster -- but I was too out of breath to go with the impulse. The flesh being willing but the spirit is weak, I suppose.

Stopped for lunch, and felt much better for it. Lack of nutrition -- that'll do it to you everytime.

Despite all the warnings and dire predictions from various quarters, even en masse the kids I'm invigilating aren't the little monsters they've been made out to be. Maybe we're still new to each other?

Anyway, it was a day of feasting to celebrate the end of GP. A portion of our breakkie regulars started the pig-out at Friends. Friends offered a new dish on the set menu: an open ravioli with cream mushroom filling. What it turned out to be was two flat ravioli skins sandwiching something akin to the wild mushroom soup, only thicker and creamier. Fortunately, I didn't order the wild mushroom soup as my starter or I would have died from the overdose.

With roughly three hours in between to digest our substantial lunch, we rejoined the main body at the Red House, ECP, for a grand round of chilli crabs, drunken prawns and sides. Crab eating is never a pretty sight. Hands and the entire lower jaw area dripping with gravy as we're shoving large chunks of crab between molars and canines for a decent shell-cracking bite, mouths contorting to accommodate the welcome intrusion. No, no one got killed by my flying shrapnel this time. Pity.

Though B-lo abandoned us for better company -- she was looking to crash a happenin' Halloween party -- and Wayne abandoned us for soccer, the rest of us adjourned to Gelare in nearby Siglap. 2 Fantastic Fives, 9 spoons. Decadent orgy party of the night involving whipped cream, strawberries and chocolate sauce. B-lo and Wayne will never know what they missed...

Oh yeah, Happy Halloween, folks!

Late post as Mr L33t went inexplicably off-line last night.

An easy start to my exam duties. A 90 minute Japanese paper, 7 candidates only.

Though common wisdom says to treat these kids with caution (apparently, the kids of this particular college snap and turn nasty easily), my first impression of them has been quite different. True, they are well-groomed and look studious and intelligent like they should be, but they were respectful of Celine and me, and they did as they were instructed without rolling their eyeballs at us. I couldn't fault them for being obliviously ostentatious either despite what we've been told of them -- nothing they owned looked especially fabulous. Even their shoes were nothing out of the ordinary and looked like they'd been worn for quite a while already. I've seen kids wearing more expensive footwear on my own campus.

They are different from the kids we're used to in one way, though: they will ask questions to clear their doubts, and they assume nothing. In that alone, they make it clear that they are not sheep to be herded, bleating from one pen to the next. They are quietly and resolutely focused on the job they have to do and don't distract themselves with idle chitchat until they are formally dismissed.

Today I saw only 7 of them. Tomorrow, I'll probably see a lot more of them. Let's see if my initial impression of them still holds.

Tomorrow is also going to be historic. It'll be the first time ever we'll be offering the KI paper after years, yes, years, of preparation. NBS and I hope our 6 can deliver the goods (no pressure, KIds!), but tomorrow our blinkers will finally come off, and then we'll know for sure what a 'live' exam paper really looks like. Regardless, at this point, it's isn't how much you know any more, but rather how well you use what you do know to answer the question.

And on that note, GP and KI candidates taking tomorrow's paper, you've studied hard enough. The time to rest your eyes and brains is now. Go sleep... and all the best for your papers! May you have enjoyable questions to work on!

Officially, we're on vacation. The last day of the JC year was last Friday at which we staff had a round-up of the year seminar. Unofficially, as of today, we're still at work. J1s have their project exams, J2s have gone into full-swing exam mode, some are still looking for some 11th-hour assurances from us. We staff are on exam duty, supervising kids taking their papers. Still busy, busy.

I'm surprised Mr Devan would behave like the other PSLE parents when his kid returned a poor grade on his presumably GP essay. The school system is too rigid, he claims, in being dogmatic to the thesis-exposition-conclusion model of essay writing. He gives examples of great essayists whose works don't follow the pattern, Bacon and Orwell he quotes. The thesis-expo-conc model might work for boring old reports on Singapore's economy or a lab report, but doesn't reflect the writings of novelists and journalists, so why can't we be flexible about it [and give young Master Devan an 'A' for his effort, instead of a 'B' or whatever]?

Let's just dump all our illusions and ideals about Education. A GP essay is the most boring thing anyone will ever write. GP isn't creative writing which celebrates a free flow of thoughts and ideas that might eventually meander to some revelation. Or not, which is also ok. GP doesn't like the personal and the story-telling style either, so even if Orwell himself wrote lines like the ones Devan quotes, I would still write in the margins in glaring red: Narrative! Relevance?

We forget that GP, like any other subject, is a training regimen in a particular discipline. And the grades a student gets are merely reflective of the skill demonstrated by the student attained in that discipline. GP is a narrow discipline because it belongs in the realm of Pre-university, i.e., teaching kids to cope in the university environment at which they will be writing boring, stuffy academic reports about the Singapore economy, lab reports and probably worse. They'd better be prepared.

In GP we emphasize not so much clarity of thought, but rather clarity of communicating our thoughts. Socrates was brilliant, but if he didn't have the ability to articulate his most significant idea: "You're all idiots!" to us, his wisdom would have died with him millennia ago.

The thesis-expo-conc model is great for communicating ideas because there's no room for discontinuity, or for random, stray, left-field thoughts entering the argument and confusing the issue or the reader. It makes the essayist more careful in considering his purpose for writing, more aware of the audience's desire to access a simple idea and have some evaluative deliberation over it. It makes the essayist research the background of the issue and be personally responsible for what he says about it.

The essayist is a person of integrity, who has thought hard about the issue being discussed, has learned as much as he can about the issue, and proposes a course of action that is both practical and responsible to deal with it. This is the way leaders communicate with their people, and as potential uni-grads who are likely to hold decision-making positions in society in the near future, they'd better learn to write and speak like leaders or hell, they ain't gonna get no respect. No, sir!

If you don't like GP to be so inflexible and narrow, remember that this is a course in writing that caters to the lowest common denominator, same as every other subject in the formal curriculum. In our hands, we would have shattered the confidence of Bacon and Orwell, sending them in tears from the classroom time and again. They would have had stable jobs in the civil service, but they would never have written another essay as long as they lived, ever again. But if you want your genius kid* to flower, why not try homeschooling? Your kid could have taken the 'O' levels at the age of 9!

*Darn! Link for ST subscribers only!

Rediscovering Ya Hua Rou Gu Cha -- a long-lost treasure -- was June's biggest thrill from yesterday's reef walk. Back when she was working for Compaq, this was THE place to celebrate Department events and special occasions. But when Ya Hua moved from Outram, they fell off the radar... until last night. As the bus took us back to campus, there it appeared, right outside PSA's Tanjong Pagar Gate 1, with a basement parking lot conveniently located right there.

So today, we went to see if it was as good as she remembered. The rou gu cha here is of the peppery variety. It's claim to fame is that with the same soup base, they make complementary (meaning "goes well with", NOT "free, gratis") side dishes of Chinese lettuce, Japanese seaweed (yums!), pork liver (excellent!) which we ordered (left). The different soups take on the flavour of their main ingredients so there's a multiplicity of variations on the basic rou gu cha theme in one meal.

Was it good? Yes. The top pix shows the pre-lunchtime crowd on a Sunday in the business district. Hint: go early if you want to get a table.

Edit 01:
This is the second time Mr George Lim Heng Chye has got my goat with another inane, petty and ridiculous letter to the ST's forum pages:

Man exposed himself to boys
October 28, 2007 Sunday

ON OCT20, I took my young son to the Ang Mo Kio Swimming Complex for his swimming lessons.

After his session, I accompanied him to the shower room. There, I noticed a man standing naked, drying his hair with a towel while displaying his full frontal view towards two young boys, who were in the midst of changing.

What was offensive was that the man was in a state of physical arousal. He was standing close and exposing himself to the boys, who fortunately ignored him.

When my son got out of the shower, I told him to change quickly and we left the room.

That man was still 'drying' his hair with a towel when we left. It did not look like he had any intention to get dressed.

What I saw was a pervert who was looking for an opportunity to satisfy his lust in the men's changing room by preying on young boys. It was a detestable act.

I urge the Singapore Sports Council to send patrols or marshals to stop such perverts from deliberately parading naked in the changing rooms at swimming complexes.

Hellooo... you saw a MAN naked in a MEN's shower room. Newsflash: people shower with their clothes off, most of the time. Ok, the dude was towelling dry his hair, but unless he had brought an extra towel with him (most of us won't bother), what else was he going to cover himself with? His dry BVDs?

Oh, and you thought the man was in "a state of physical arousal"? Men are born with differently sized um... physical equipment. Just because his might have been bigger than [what you're used to seeing] doesn't mean he was particularly excited by what your genetic offspring or you had to offer. Alternatively, he could have just towelled dry his own nether regions, and the stimulation might have inadvertently caused some "arousal". Has it been that long for you?

In fact, by taking note of the man's endowments, you were probably violating his privacy and he could sue you for it. The two young boys he was allegedly "exposing" himself to were probably his own sons who had the sense to ignore their dad going about his business. I think they'll turn out ok, but I worry about yours.

Just curious. Did you ever serve NS, or were you excused bathing for some medical condition or other?

You should stay away from the Women's shower room. With your constitution, you'll risk an ambulance ride to the nearest hospital if you ever saw what goes on in there. Naked women showering. The horror!

Staff field trip to Kusu Island! About 30 of us, some with spouses and/or kids in tow descended upon the tidal pools on the island to view the different lifeforms observable at low tide. Guides from Blue Water Volunteers showed us around, this being the last trip to the island they are organizing for the year.

When a place has generally few human visitors, it's amazing how much life flourishes. Today, however, we arrived; and though we were careful to gingerly step around inhabited patches of the reef, I'm sure some lifeforms came to grief under the soles of our feet. But we really did try to minimize our impact on the ecosystem as far as possible.

As we waded through the salt-water pools, we encountered crabs of the hermit and flower varieties, and one of the other guides put one small, hairy specimen in temporary captivity so that most of us could see it first-hand. What other things did we see? Check out the rest of June's pix here.

Our guides, Dionne and Yvonne, were entertaining and lively, and took our nonsense in their stride. They were informative and encouraged us to get hands-on with some of the creatures. We felt the suction of the carpet anemone's stinging tentacles (our skin is too thick to be affected by the stings) , and had snails and small crabs crawling over our palms just for the experience.

There was time for a quick self-prepared dinner after, while awaiting the ferry's departure. With the budget we gave her, Mel put together a small feast of egg mayo and chix mayo to spread on bread. Various people opened bags of chips, while Linc opened a bottle of cab sauv to share around.

Definitely not the worst way to spend a Saturday afternoon. =)

June got us comps to "The Game Plan" at the very last minute today. There was this huge crowd strung out along a red carpet at GV, Vivocity; and surprise, surprise, Mr Johnson himself strode in to the music of Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock". Corny, but somehow appropriate.

The pix was a quick grab using June's cellphone cam. Mine tends to run out of juice when I need it most.

Honestly, Game Plan wasn't on my list of to-watch movies. I'm quite leery of movies pitting known tough guys against wise-ass pipsqueaks. Arnold's done it, Hulk Hogan's done it, Vin Diesel's done it, and now The Rock? Big guys being put in their place by a tiny costar is usually hilarious in a David and Goliath sense, but the gags come cheap.

But The Rock, to his credit, isn't playing for laughs. There are the expected laugh-out-loud moments, but never once do we feel he's just milking comedy by making a fool of himself. Though his character, Joe Kingman, fumbles around with a new wrinkle in his life -- a daughter he never knew he had -- at a most crucial stage in his pro-football career, and though this unexpected situation causes chaos in his well-ordered existence, he never loses control but instead visibly puts himself on a learning curve to cope with it.

When Kingman gets forced into performing ballet with daughter, Peyton, there's an opportunity for on-screen silliness, but, no. While not entirely balletic, The Rock's on the mark, moving with the ensemble rather than against it. Good choice. In this respect, The Rock makes a transition that few in his industry have been able to, that is to separate the wrestler from the actor, and that's professionalism at the highest level.

Although Game Plan still follows formula ultimately, there are a few twists and surprises to sustain our interest. Peyton arrives at Kingman's apartment under rather suspicious circumstances, and what exactly is her hidden agenda with him?

If there's a point to this movie, it's that despite Kingman's wildly successful celebrity status, with his opulence, fame and his victory trophies, he lives in an empty, lonely world full of nothing but himself. But with the arrival of Peyton, he has to take stock of his situation and ask, what's life without a little chaos? What's success with no one to share it with? Good questions.

Also, a winning team comprises more than just the star quarterback.

I'm enjoying Portal the most out of all the toys in the Orange Box. It's short -- roughly three hours of gameplay to complete -- it's episodic, so stopping the game to do inconvenient but necessary stuff like potty breaks and meals is relatively painless, and the satisfaction of solving each puzzle is pure instant gratification.

There are 19 puzzle solving levels set in someplace called "Aperture Labs", but it's all training for the last level by which time we discover that all is not as it seems. Apart from the clinically sterile environment in which most of the game takes place, there are occasional glimpses behind the facade that reveal that something sinister is happening in the background.

For one thing, all safety protocols are non-existent. Many puzzles include lethal elements like acid-flooded floors, kawai but trigger-happy little gun turrets, and bouncy energy pellets which need to be manipulated into powering certain devices but are instant death on contact. How suspicious is that?

Every puzzle solved brings us a step closer to the truth. Is the lab computer malfunctioning? Its sing-song voice seems a little off-kilter. It promises cake and a party after the lab testing is complete, but IS the cake a lie?

For supporting NPCs in a game, the lab computer has to be one of the most memorable. We only hear its disembodied voice which accompanies us as we progress. It's functional at first, but there's almost a relationship that builds up between us two. Since there doesn't seem to be any other intelligence to interact with in the game, this relationship is more Stockholm Syndrome, less companionship.

I'm not sure how it's possible, but despite the vocal intonations that sound like they're being rendered through an early-generation SoundBlaster card, there's a discernible personality behind the computer's voice that appears genuinely interested in our progress, though not necessarily in our well-being. The information it provides tends to be a lot of corporate nonsense, pointless advice, disclaimers; but it's also disturbing to be watched and monitored so closely without knowing why.

Puzzle games don't usually have this level of story-telling, much less such personality. The puzzles themselves are readily solvable once we get used to the game physics. Since we have no offensive capability ourselves, most of the game is slow and methodical while we trial-and-error our next move. But the last five minutes of the endgame is quite a change of pace -- our personal survival depends on putting what we've learned to use as quickly as possible or die trying.

And now that I have successfully completed Portal, there are more advanced maps to play with. No story, just pure problem-solving. For what I initially expected of it, Portal has delivered so much more in terms of gaming experience.

Test drove the NEW Mazda 2! I couldn't resist it. While M2 stood shivering with uncertainty over his fate in his parking lot at the showroom, June and I took out a new toxic green coloured 2 for a spin.

Unlike the boxy, functional old design, the new one is sleek and sporty on the outside. The sales reps emphasize how the new look is supposed to have been inspired by the Peugeot 207, but really it could stand by itself. M2 looks rather ungainly in comparison.

Because of the new look, the cockpit is more crammed than I'm used to. There isn't as much clearance between the head and the door frame, so there's a little more caution needed in entering and exiting. Much reduced trunk space from the old, and the seats don't fold up so don't expect to carry too much in the back.

The console is quite space-age, though the displays are still more analogue than digital. Controls give the impression that it's all fly-by-wire, especially with the tiny auto-shift lever mounted on the console panel rather than the floorboard. The stereo system looks like it's been moulded into a bubble; sound is adequate, though nothing to boast about. Standard, the upholstery comes in fabric, though there is an upgrade option to 1 or 2-tone (yuck) sports leather.

The ride is s-w-e-e-t. Quiet engine, highly responsive acceleration with a kick you can feel, and it corners well, without the sway that the old model with its higher CG can't help. If I ever get used to this kind of handling, it'll be a great temptation to just hit the highway to see what this baby can really do.

So am I getting a new car? The new M2 is a yummy treat to drive, but after doing the math (yes, we went that far), we decided we couldn't afford the switch. M2 is currently in excellent working condition, so there's no real reason to make the trade; and besides, there's big travel plans to be made next year which need some serious financing. I'm not about to give that up for a new car I don't need right now.

Pragmatism and a level-head won this day!

*video 'koped' from 4a.mazda.com

Cracked open the Orange Box at last. For $79.90, it packs in 5 games, though 2 are reprises (more on them later). The new games are Half Life 2: Episode 2; the innovative 1st person puzzle game, Portal; and the multiplayer Team Fortress 2 that offers a higher level of complexity in the mix of character classes than ET:QW. TF2 I didn't load, since I'm NOT going online with it.

Ep. 2's strength is in cooperative gameplay partnering the player's character, Gordon Freeman, with a highly competent NPC who isn't just a great shot, but also offers contextualized, scripted "conversation" that moves the plot along, and gives the player a sense of companionship unparalleled in any other FPS. It's great having Alex Alyx watch your back with a sniper rifle as you plough through a radioactive swamp crawling with zombies. Though she never misses, the area is so target rich that the shotgun Gordon's totting doesn't have a chance to be idle.

Apart from the runnin' and gunnin', Ep. 2 is also a bit of a puzzle game involving environmental obstacles as well as figuring out how to get crucial bits of machinery functioning. Tense drama, blazin' guns, head-scratchin' moments, Ep. 2's got a little something for everyone.

Portal's a bit strange as a puzzler. The player carries a portal gun that opens holes in walls, floors and ceilings, but the point of entry into a portal leads to an exit point somewhere else on the map. This miracle of technology allows the player to manoeuvre around obstacles to reach objectives that are otherwise physically inaccessible. Amidst this rather disorienting experience is an adventure game that maintains a consistent narrative, driving the player from one puzzle to the next.

Warning: While beautiful and realistic in rendering graphics, the Source engine powering these games makes me sick to the core after a while. Motion sickness makes me play in bite-sized chunks, or alternatively, blow chunks. I prefer the former.

The older games in this package are HL2 and Ep. 1 all over again, for the benefit of first-time buyers who might want to complete the backstory leading to Ep. 2. And this is my cue to announce that publisher, Valve, having recognized me as a legal purchaser of these previous 2 games, allows me to legally GIVE away 1 copy of each to anyone I choose. I'm not exactly sure how the download process is going to work exactly, but the recipient, I suppose, needs to create an account with Valve first. Sooo... any takers? Email me at xmac2006@gmail.com; 1st come, 1st served!

There was no intention to be mysterious about my "decision" in the previous entry, although I suppose that might have overdramatized things a little. All I did was to apply for an MA programme, which means I'll be working and studying at the same time, so Taily was right on the money.

However, the chances of my application being successful are slim, given the limited number of places available. I don't like to talk about my "chances" because I have this irrational notion that the more is said, the less likely it's going to happen.

I'll keep y'all posted about it when I know more.