Anyone reading my last few entries must think yours truly is nothing but a crotchety old f*rt shaking his walking stick at the world 'cos he can't find his dentures. Better get the defibrillator on stand-by in case he bursts a blood vessel.
Slow down, old boy; you're starting to show your age.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Friday, November 05, 2010
Grades, grades...!
Our children certainly are a product of what we teach them. I can hear adult voices behind these kids' assertions that grades take priority over graciousness. It's fine for anxious parents and driven educators to push their kids to better and higher achievement, but not at the expense of hollowing them out of their basic humanity and unique personalities.
I watched the Asian premier of 'The Walking Dead' on Fox, and I couldn't help noticing the parallel between the cannibalistic undead and the yao guai (hungry ghost) next generation we seem to be raising. They may not lack resources -- I'm sure they'll all ace their job interviews with those impressive grades of theirs -- but they're all empty inside. In an every-zombie-for-itself world, no one can tell friend from enemy, family from stranger. Everyone is a competitor, every decent human being left is either food or seeks to put them out of their misery with a bullet between the eyes.
Ok, I'm exaggerating. But parents, teachers, one day in the not too distant future, these kids will be employed -- as decision-makers who will be deciding on our fate. Let's see how proud you will be of them when you are mouldering in some forgotten corner of a retirement home wondering why you haven't seen Junior in so long. Your kids will be too busy fighting and surviving in this competitive world that you created in their minds to think about you any longer, except how soon they can cash in your CPF.
I watched the Asian premier of 'The Walking Dead' on Fox, and I couldn't help noticing the parallel between the cannibalistic undead and the yao guai (hungry ghost) next generation we seem to be raising. They may not lack resources -- I'm sure they'll all ace their job interviews with those impressive grades of theirs -- but they're all empty inside. In an every-zombie-for-itself world, no one can tell friend from enemy, family from stranger. Everyone is a competitor, every decent human being left is either food or seeks to put them out of their misery with a bullet between the eyes.
Ok, I'm exaggerating. But parents, teachers, one day in the not too distant future, these kids will be employed -- as decision-makers who will be deciding on our fate. Let's see how proud you will be of them when you are mouldering in some forgotten corner of a retirement home wondering why you haven't seen Junior in so long. Your kids will be too busy fighting and surviving in this competitive world that you created in their minds to think about you any longer, except how soon they can cash in your CPF.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Planned obsolescence
That's it. Done with the last consult. The last three weeks were intense, but it felt good to talk with the kids around a conference table than to talk at them in a classroom. Despite the disastrous results they've been getting throughout the year, it's gratifying to see they haven't given up and are still intent on doing well.
But it's out of my hands now. I've relinquished my hold on the bicycle and it's up to them to pedal, coast... or crash on their own. Like an anxious parent, all I can do is watch them go; knowing that if I've done my job well enough, they won't need me any more.
Keep pedaling, kids, and don't look back!
But it's out of my hands now. I've relinquished my hold on the bicycle and it's up to them to pedal, coast... or crash on their own. Like an anxious parent, all I can do is watch them go; knowing that if I've done my job well enough, they won't need me any more.
Keep pedaling, kids, and don't look back!
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Deprived of iron
Oh dear. It's true. I confess. Haven't gone to the fitness centre in almost three weeks. My schedule has been packed with consults getting their acts together (at last!) in the run-up to the finals next week. But as a result, my cold is coming back. Blocked and leaky nose, wheezing lungs... check, check and check.
Thankfully, I'm down to my last full day of consults. Immediately after, I'm going straight back to pump the symptoms right out of my system.
Thankfully, I'm down to my last full day of consults. Immediately after, I'm going straight back to pump the symptoms right out of my system.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
'A' is the new normal
FM says we should strive for excellence, and from the ground wells up an outpouring of insecurity, inadequacy and indignation. We're already working so hard to score straight 'A's; what more could the man expect to wring from us?
Ironic for me to say, but scoring straight 'A's is the new normal. Excellence no longer resides solely in academic achievement because all Education can provide is just a common foundation on which every student can start from.
Education trains good habits, plays a role in character building, helps people develop some idea about how the world functions. For most people, that is enough. It is, really. It's great to be average. People like us are the base from which excellent people stand above the crowd. But we seem to be short of such people who develop interests in interesting things and in so doing become interesting themselves. It gets tiresome sometimes when we look at each other and see reflections of our own mundaneness. In our human sea of dull grey, we want to see a few shiny things that brighten the gloom.
I dunno. When I see the occasional shiny thing, I get inspired to do a little better. For most of my fellow citizens, when they see shiny things their first instinct is to shoot them down, like they represent an alien invasion, or something. Maybe that's not too far fetched an analogy: our sporting achievements tend to erupt into a War of the Worlds situation as we flagellate ourselves over why 'true-blue S'poreans' aren't excellent enough to compete against out imported talent.
We've grown a culture that chooses not to celebrate excellence. We discourage our youngsters from pursuing things they are good at or are interested in doing. We're afraid that if they do well in those things, they'll lose their place in the average mass where there is safety in numbers. Shining too brightly or swimming too far out at the edge is a sure way to get snapped at by a passing predator, so everybody swims in a homogenous unit, in a... dare I say it? A school.
If we're going to be a school, I'd rather not be in a school of ikan bilis (anchovies). Lacklustre, uninteresting, numerous, nobody sheds a tear when we crunch them with our nasi lemak. Let's be a pod of dolphins, creatures to be marvelled at, communicated with, studied like a fellow intelligent species; and even if we get clubbed to death by mad Japanese fishermen, at least someone will kick up a stink, rail at the heavens and miss us.
Maybe we don't know how to be excellent. We do have living examples among us, believe it or not. You have to admire the audacity of Fusion Garage CEO, Chandra Rathakrishnan, for launching the Joojoo just ahead of the market-changing iPad, probably against all good marketing sense and advice. If not for comparisons against the iPad, the Joojoo would have been a decent enough device, but Excellence was in the belief and conviction to launch before the gargantuan competition could. And survive.
There's this little 12-year old girl who has just become S'pore's latest world title holder... in yoga, of all things. I'm pretty sure she does just fine in school, but so does everyone else. But watch her through her routine and be amazed at her technique, poise and flexibility. What kind of training does it take to become this excellent? Well, there can only be one world champion at a time, so what can we laggards do to match up?
Obviously, we don't have to match her in her chosen field of excellence. We each have our own fields and our own ways to be excellent there. But even if we don't have any particular talent in any particular field -- and that would be the majority of us -- we can still heed the exhortation of dual paragons of mediocrity, Bill S Preston Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan, to simply "be excellent to each other...!" We can at least do that.
Our studies are important, like rice is important. It's our staple and we can't live without it. Excellence is ice-cream with a cherry on top. But you can have it only after you finish your meal. I want ice-cream. I'm sure you do too.
Ironic for me to say, but scoring straight 'A's is the new normal. Excellence no longer resides solely in academic achievement because all Education can provide is just a common foundation on which every student can start from.
Education trains good habits, plays a role in character building, helps people develop some idea about how the world functions. For most people, that is enough. It is, really. It's great to be average. People like us are the base from which excellent people stand above the crowd. But we seem to be short of such people who develop interests in interesting things and in so doing become interesting themselves. It gets tiresome sometimes when we look at each other and see reflections of our own mundaneness. In our human sea of dull grey, we want to see a few shiny things that brighten the gloom.
I dunno. When I see the occasional shiny thing, I get inspired to do a little better. For most of my fellow citizens, when they see shiny things their first instinct is to shoot them down, like they represent an alien invasion, or something. Maybe that's not too far fetched an analogy: our sporting achievements tend to erupt into a War of the Worlds situation as we flagellate ourselves over why 'true-blue S'poreans' aren't excellent enough to compete against out imported talent.
We've grown a culture that chooses not to celebrate excellence. We discourage our youngsters from pursuing things they are good at or are interested in doing. We're afraid that if they do well in those things, they'll lose their place in the average mass where there is safety in numbers. Shining too brightly or swimming too far out at the edge is a sure way to get snapped at by a passing predator, so everybody swims in a homogenous unit, in a... dare I say it? A school.
If we're going to be a school, I'd rather not be in a school of ikan bilis (anchovies). Lacklustre, uninteresting, numerous, nobody sheds a tear when we crunch them with our nasi lemak. Let's be a pod of dolphins, creatures to be marvelled at, communicated with, studied like a fellow intelligent species; and even if we get clubbed to death by mad Japanese fishermen, at least someone will kick up a stink, rail at the heavens and miss us.
Maybe we don't know how to be excellent. We do have living examples among us, believe it or not. You have to admire the audacity of Fusion Garage CEO, Chandra Rathakrishnan, for launching the Joojoo just ahead of the market-changing iPad, probably against all good marketing sense and advice. If not for comparisons against the iPad, the Joojoo would have been a decent enough device, but Excellence was in the belief and conviction to launch before the gargantuan competition could. And survive.
There's this little 12-year old girl who has just become S'pore's latest world title holder... in yoga, of all things. I'm pretty sure she does just fine in school, but so does everyone else. But watch her through her routine and be amazed at her technique, poise and flexibility. What kind of training does it take to become this excellent? Well, there can only be one world champion at a time, so what can we laggards do to match up?
Obviously, we don't have to match her in her chosen field of excellence. We each have our own fields and our own ways to be excellent there. But even if we don't have any particular talent in any particular field -- and that would be the majority of us -- we can still heed the exhortation of dual paragons of mediocrity, Bill S Preston Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan, to simply "be excellent to each other...!" We can at least do that.
Our studies are important, like rice is important. It's our staple and we can't live without it. Excellence is ice-cream with a cherry on top. But you can have it only after you finish your meal. I want ice-cream. I'm sure you do too.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Lost generation needs a smack
Ah, our poor, lost younger generation who know not what they defend. You think too highly of yourselves if you think you are being called upon to defend king and country. 'Tis no ideal, no ideology, no Grand Plan you bear arms for. All the older generation asks is that you see fit to defend yourselves and your home, that's it.
What home, you ask? Remember the people who call you family, those you call your friends? That home. Like family, you don't get to choose whom you live with, though you can choose whom to be friends with. So it's not the place, but the people you share meals with from time to time whom you are defending. It so happens they all have to live somewhere, so yeah, that home.
If you don't know what you're defending, then you perhaps don't think your family and your BFFs are worth defending. You don't think of yourself as worth defending. That's fine. Lots of young people feel the same way. There were the Roman punks chillaxin' in their bounty. Tactically and technologically they had the best army in the world defending them, but the barbarians dropped by and trashed the place anyway, raping, pillaging and slaughtering as they went. What we DO remember of the Romans are the remains of what their forefathers had built... that's about it. Good company, you youngsters keep.
There's only one problem I have with you not knowing what home you're defending. You are talking about MY home too. Could you do an old guy a favour and wait until I no longer have a need for a home on Earth before you toss it away to the barbarians? Yes, the ones who are eyeing all the nice things you kids have 'cos the only way they can see themselves having the same privileges as you is by prying them from your cold, dead fingers. The same ones you are calling out to like a wounded duck calls out to hungry wolves for a swift and merciful end; the ones you are inadvertently inviting home with your legs wide open.
Humour me.
What home, you ask? Remember the people who call you family, those you call your friends? That home. Like family, you don't get to choose whom you live with, though you can choose whom to be friends with. So it's not the place, but the people you share meals with from time to time whom you are defending. It so happens they all have to live somewhere, so yeah, that home.
If you don't know what you're defending, then you perhaps don't think your family and your BFFs are worth defending. You don't think of yourself as worth defending. That's fine. Lots of young people feel the same way. There were the Roman punks chillaxin' in their bounty. Tactically and technologically they had the best army in the world defending them, but the barbarians dropped by and trashed the place anyway, raping, pillaging and slaughtering as they went. What we DO remember of the Romans are the remains of what their forefathers had built... that's about it. Good company, you youngsters keep.
There's only one problem I have with you not knowing what home you're defending. You are talking about MY home too. Could you do an old guy a favour and wait until I no longer have a need for a home on Earth before you toss it away to the barbarians? Yes, the ones who are eyeing all the nice things you kids have 'cos the only way they can see themselves having the same privileges as you is by prying them from your cold, dead fingers. The same ones you are calling out to like a wounded duck calls out to hungry wolves for a swift and merciful end; the ones you are inadvertently inviting home with your legs wide open.
Humour me.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
The straw critic
There's a recent trend in GP that so-called 'balance' points get snuck into essays under the guise of reporting the views of the 'critics'. Otherwise, they're called 'detractors' or 'pessimists' or some other appellation.
But who are these critics? What are they critics of? What views do they detract from? Fact is, unless the essayist is targeting a specific criticism held by a known group of people, the critic in the GP essay is a figment of the student's imagination.
It is a convenient device to hang a weak oppositional viewpoint on so that they can assure themselves that they have considered 'the other side'. But once having done so, the better students will offer a counter-counter argument which is irritating, or just forget to deal with the critics' view on the unwritten assumption that they're just critics -- what do they know? Unforgivable!
In most GP essays, the 'critic' is used as a logical straw-man. Bring in some arbitrary, extreme, obscure point and attribute it to some imaginary non-entity. Beat the stuffing out of it, or simply ignore it, it doesn't matter because it isn't real in the first place.
What's real? People who talk to imaginary critics in life are either the delusional homeless or the institutionalized. Whatever has made this batch of students become so crazy?
But who are these critics? What are they critics of? What views do they detract from? Fact is, unless the essayist is targeting a specific criticism held by a known group of people, the critic in the GP essay is a figment of the student's imagination.
It is a convenient device to hang a weak oppositional viewpoint on so that they can assure themselves that they have considered 'the other side'. But once having done so, the better students will offer a counter-counter argument which is irritating, or just forget to deal with the critics' view on the unwritten assumption that they're just critics -- what do they know? Unforgivable!
In most GP essays, the 'critic' is used as a logical straw-man. Bring in some arbitrary, extreme, obscure point and attribute it to some imaginary non-entity. Beat the stuffing out of it, or simply ignore it, it doesn't matter because it isn't real in the first place.
What's real? People who talk to imaginary critics in life are either the delusional homeless or the institutionalized. Whatever has made this batch of students become so crazy?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
A small and simple Halloween
I've given up organizing campus-wide Halloween events because the occasion falls during the period when the big kids have finals to study for and the little kids are immersed neck deep in their group projects. If that isn't enough horror for them, I don't know what is.
This year, I kept things really small and simple: host just the drama kids for a little screamfest. There aren't that many of them and they look like they could use a break -- before they get desperate enough to eat each others' brains. And they really don't need any more junk food.
Imagine my surprise when they volunteered to take the event off my hands (along with my hands) and invite the whole world to my proposed do. Ah, such ambition, my little drama kids have. Such hubris.
Have to give them credit -- they did their best. Friday evening, it's back to just us, a small gathering of rowdy revelers gathered 'round yon projector for a seasonally appropriate movie screening.
This year, I kept things really small and simple: host just the drama kids for a little screamfest. There aren't that many of them and they look like they could use a break -- before they get desperate enough to eat each others' brains. And they really don't need any more junk food.
Imagine my surprise when they volunteered to take the event off my hands (along with my hands) and invite the whole world to my proposed do. Ah, such ambition, my little drama kids have. Such hubris.
Have to give them credit -- they did their best. Friday evening, it's back to just us, a small gathering of rowdy revelers gathered 'round yon projector for a seasonally appropriate movie screening.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The faintest of heartbeats
My worst fears are realized. It seems reports of Mr L33t's demise have been greatly exaggerated. The poor fellow's not dead, only irreparably lobotomised. Which is worse. No reason to purchase any further upgrades 'cos everything's working just fine -- except the hard drive which has utterly and completely failed.
As I said, all my important data has been backed up on an external drive, though I've lost everything of value within the past month... sort of being in between backups. But my saved games are probably unrecoverable.
Bought a 1Tb replacement HDD but will have to reinstall everything all over again. Painful. I'll have to replay all my games too! Someone's going to be busy over the December hols.
As I said, all my important data has been backed up on an external drive, though I've lost everything of value within the past month... sort of being in between backups. But my saved games are probably unrecoverable.
Bought a 1Tb replacement HDD but will have to reinstall everything all over again. Painful. I'll have to replay all my games too! Someone's going to be busy over the December hols.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Alas, poor Mr L33t
A minute's silence for the demise of Mr L33t, who as of this evening refused to boot up. Cause of Death looks to be a general mobo failure, though he also showed signs of clogged air vents and an accumulation of dust on his interior surfaces which house sensitive electronics.
Will attempt to salvage still functioning transplantable parts, but it's time for a serious overhaul, maybe upgrades even. The only thing I hope for is that his hard drive is still intact. Too many personal photos and save games to see wiped clean. Yes, I have backups, but it's inconvenient to restore everything.
Think we're about to experience Mr L33t's third incarnation. That's the thing about PCs that die: they always come back better than they were before.
Will attempt to salvage still functioning transplantable parts, but it's time for a serious overhaul, maybe upgrades even. The only thing I hope for is that his hard drive is still intact. Too many personal photos and save games to see wiped clean. Yes, I have backups, but it's inconvenient to restore everything.
Think we're about to experience Mr L33t's third incarnation. That's the thing about PCs that die: they always come back better than they were before.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Wait, where are the animal pictures?
HOT date at the Night Safari's Halloween event.
Before venturing further, we fortify ourselves with Bongo Burgers -- safari themed fast food. The burgers aren't quite the size we remember, but if most people's appetites are anything like June's, perhaps its just as well. Guess who had to finish her leftovers?
The Haunted Village attraction was at the zoo. It's not visible from this pix but behind us the queue to get in here snaked a very long way away. To get to this entrance took about half-an-hour of patient stand-look around-move forward-repeat. Lots of atmospheric sound effects, spooky music and the odd costumed party-goer to keep us company in the meantime.
This bunch of fraidy-cats pushed June and me to the front as soon as we stepped through the creepy entrance. Inside, lots of spooks got their jollies popping up and scaring the bejeebers out of our makeshift party. It's good to travel with a crowd of screamers. People tend to bring their own atmosphere with them.
A close encounter with a spook. I asked for a close-crop, but this is ridiculous.
The other highlight was the spooky tram ride. It's the usual ride around the park to view the nocturnal activities of the animals, but tweaked with a soundtrack and the guide adopting a Monsterpiece Theatre presenter's voice as she nattered through her spiel on lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Could tell she was having fun 'cos this is about the only occasion that she could threaten stubborn flash photogs with a 'poke in the eye'.
Along the way, there were also frequent 'visitations' from our guide's scarier colleagues. Somehow, they know how to pick the screamers. My observation: to avoid becoming a victim of these apparitions, choose a seat directly above the tram wheels. No ghoulie would risk squished tootises for the sake of a shriek.
Lots of other photo ops at the entrance plaza. The costumed ones are not above sudden acceleration to startle the unwary and pursue the fleeing.
If you're thinking of going too -- there's still this weekend and next -- go early, and don't waste too much time over dinner. We thought we had lots of time but after covering the Gui Mansion, the tram ride and the animal show, it was too late for us to take the walking trail where more surprises awaited us.
Wonder what the tourists thought of this very Asian-themed Halloween celebration?
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Reading aloud
Consultations are coming in thick and fast. They can be a lot more draining than regular classes 'cos the kids are actively engaged and focused on asking questions that really make you think before shooting off a reply. Many of these past nights, mental fatigue sets in and I'm passed out on the floor of the study again. It's a seasonal thing.
But I've learned from last year. Around this time, I lost my voice for a week, losing valuable consult time with last year's kids. This year, Im drinking more water and, more importantly, I'm making the kids read their work aloud to me. I can thus minimize my vocal input, inturrupting where necessary and reviewing Cowell-style after.
While conserving my larynx, the kids also benefit from the reading as they can catch awkward phrasing and grammatical errors they've made. Listening is a skill we don't train much at our level, but it's too important to neglect, especially when GP is so particular about the use of language.
Also, it's good for them to read what they have written because with a 'live' and immediate audience they have to take pride in their essays and AQs. All the more so if they're reading aloud to a small group consult. Given more time and more practice, writing quality is sure to go up.
In other news, it's been HOT. It's been so hot, June and I have polished off a pint of Benjamin and Jeremiah's frozen confections a night. Soon, we're going to become what we eat: a Chunky Monkey(TM) and a Chubby Hubby(TM) respectively.
But I've learned from last year. Around this time, I lost my voice for a week, losing valuable consult time with last year's kids. This year, Im drinking more water and, more importantly, I'm making the kids read their work aloud to me. I can thus minimize my vocal input, inturrupting where necessary and reviewing Cowell-style after.
While conserving my larynx, the kids also benefit from the reading as they can catch awkward phrasing and grammatical errors they've made. Listening is a skill we don't train much at our level, but it's too important to neglect, especially when GP is so particular about the use of language.
Also, it's good for them to read what they have written because with a 'live' and immediate audience they have to take pride in their essays and AQs. All the more so if they're reading aloud to a small group consult. Given more time and more practice, writing quality is sure to go up.
In other news, it's been HOT. It's been so hot, June and I have polished off a pint of Benjamin and Jeremiah's frozen confections a night. Soon, we're going to become what we eat: a Chunky Monkey(TM) and a Chubby Hubby(TM) respectively.
Friday, October 15, 2010
And they're off!
Like the rest of their cohort, x34 officially flies the coop today. See? Old enough to wear bow-ties, they are. Witch hats are for the crone and codger that sent them on their way.
And some of the graduating class of x33
x34 again. Long may these kids look back fondly and remember that on this date they took their first steps into a society larger than they ever imagined. Though they have an exam yet to get through first.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Putting the "me" in media
Messing around with Google's Chrome Experiments. Found The Wilderness Downtown fun in a narcissistic, nostalgic kind of way. It mainly features Arcade Fire's music video, "We Used to Wait". But thanks to Google Maps, if you input an address into the search bar, that location becomes incorporated into the video. The integration isn't smooth just yet 'cos lots of windows pop up, occasionally obscuring each other, but I can imagine what it could be like when the integration becomes more seamless.
For the most all-about-me effect, the Experiment encourages you to input the street address of the house you grew up in, though you may input any address you wish. One of the windows that pop up asks you to write a postcard to the past "you" from the perspective of the person you are now. Ok, then, a little reflective self-indulgence:
Dear young Xmac
Stop slouching! Everything that is happening to you now may look hopeless upfront, but hang tough and you will survive. You'll be ok, really. You'll see.
PS
please rescue the Matchbox cars you hid on the toilet window sill before you forget where you put them!
PPS
please stop Mom from selling off your Star Wars action figures at 5¢ apiece! They'll be worth a fortune someday, I'm sure of it!
Sigh... my two biggest childhood regrets.
For the most all-about-me effect, the Experiment encourages you to input the street address of the house you grew up in, though you may input any address you wish. One of the windows that pop up asks you to write a postcard to the past "you" from the perspective of the person you are now. Ok, then, a little reflective self-indulgence:
Dear young Xmac
Stop slouching! Everything that is happening to you now may look hopeless upfront, but hang tough and you will survive. You'll be ok, really. You'll see.
PS
please rescue the Matchbox cars you hid on the toilet window sill before you forget where you put them!
PPS
please stop Mom from selling off your Star Wars action figures at 5¢ apiece! They'll be worth a fortune someday, I'm sure of it!
Sigh... my two biggest childhood regrets.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Ready to fly
The soon-to-be-graduating class of mine. Sorry about the picture quality. This is a scan of a colour print on A4 paper, but it's the only shot of all of us as a group that I have. So far I've been blessed with Civics groups that have left me with good memories. x34 is no exception. Only a couple of days left before Pet (co-civics tutor) and I kick them all out of the nest. We'll miss you; and -- we mean this in the nicest possible way -- don't come back! *sniff... waves hanky
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The marriage equation
Responding to NBS's post on 'Soulmates', we often have the misconception that in marriage the equation works out as 1/2 + 1/2 = 1, by which we assume that we are incomplete until another completes us. That's not going to happen. A person who only feels like 1/2 and seeks an identity in another is going to be disappointed that the perfect "1" will always seem elusive, unattainable even.
Marriage is more of a 1 + 1 = 2 situation -- a partnership of 2 complete individuals who are different from each other, but preferably in a complementary way. Because marriage comprises 2 complete individuals, staying together is a constant choice they must make with every obstacle or difficulty they encounter as a couple.
Kids add a further complication. They cannot be expected to be complete in themselves until they leave to build their own nests. So, 1 + 1 + x/2 = 2 + x/2. Chaos ensues.
Marriage is more of a 1 + 1 = 2 situation -- a partnership of 2 complete individuals who are different from each other, but preferably in a complementary way. Because marriage comprises 2 complete individuals, staying together is a constant choice they must make with every obstacle or difficulty they encounter as a couple.
Kids add a further complication. They cannot be expected to be complete in themselves until they leave to build their own nests. So, 1 + 1 + x/2 = 2 + x/2. Chaos ensues.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Grand Theft Auto
Last Friday, Wayne's car was spotted parked in the campus porch area -- in a lot designated 'Reserved'. He'd parked it there with the intention to make a quick getaway for the weekend as soon as he was done for the day.
The next time he saw his car again, it had mysteriously moved back to its usual parking spot behind the canteen. Strange things happen if you park in unaccustomed areas, but leave your keys unattended within easy access of well-meaning individuals.
Huh? What do I know about Wayne's car? Er... it's red?
The next time he saw his car again, it had mysteriously moved back to its usual parking spot behind the canteen. Strange things happen if you park in unaccustomed areas, but leave your keys unattended within easy access of well-meaning individuals.
Huh? What do I know about Wayne's car? Er... it's red?
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Getting Steamed
Got my hands on Civ V. It was a total pain to install because the DRM relies on the player having a Steam account beforehand. That's not the problem because lots of other games have similar requirements. Steam, however, insists on updating itself upon installation... and hangs at downloading the update patch as it can't connect to the Steam server, for some reason.
After some searching over the 'net, I finally found this solution that worked for me: click here. Thanks, daveske!
Oh, make sure you first backup the file he suggests you edit -- just in case.
As for the game itself, er... I'm still messing around with the tutorials. Civ V looks like it has a lot of depth to come to grips with. Not quite ready to start a proper game, hopefully I be will soon.
After some searching over the 'net, I finally found this solution that worked for me: click here. Thanks, daveske!
Oh, make sure you first backup the file he suggests you edit -- just in case.
As for the game itself, er... I'm still messing around with the tutorials. Civ V looks like it has a lot of depth to come to grips with. Not quite ready to start a proper game, hopefully I be will soon.
Friday, October 08, 2010
Less than average
Edit 01:
Think I've been reading the figures wrong. What Credit Suisse is referring to is not the average income per person per year. Rather it's the average value of all the stuff we own individually. But considering that at least 50% of what I own is co-owned by June, my net worth is still nowhere near that estimate. Our rich-poor gap must be huge to hike up our expectation of what 'average' means around here.
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Waaaait a second...! I thought I was average, but Credit Suisse has completely ended my delusion. S'pore is the second richest nation in Asia, fourth richest in the world. Average personal wealth per adult is USD255,488 (S$333,462). If this is true, I calculate that I'm just slightly above the poverty line.
Think I've been reading the figures wrong. What Credit Suisse is referring to is not the average income per person per year. Rather it's the average value of all the stuff we own individually. But considering that at least 50% of what I own is co-owned by June, my net worth is still nowhere near that estimate. Our rich-poor gap must be huge to hike up our expectation of what 'average' means around here.
-----
Waaaait a second...! I thought I was average, but Credit Suisse has completely ended my delusion. S'pore is the second richest nation in Asia, fourth richest in the world. Average personal wealth per adult is USD255,488 (S$333,462). If this is true, I calculate that I'm just slightly above the poverty line.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Speed thrills
To the WRX Bengmobile who -- as I was filtering left from lane 1 so as to exit the CTE -- stepped on the accelerator to cut me off but ran out of space and ended up straddling lanes 2 and 3 sandwiched between me on the right and a truck on the left, thus causing a few anxious seconds before we could all get it sorted out: Ee-diot!
In case you think I didn't check my blind spot, Ah Bengmobile was actually in my rear-view mirror with space to spare between our vehicles. To close the gap that quickly shows a wilful intent on his part to pressure me to stay in my lane despite my early signal and the fact that I had already committed to the movement to change lane. Guess he was in a hurry. There was something urgent in the hand 'signal' he proffered in my direction immediately after we got clear of each other.
In case you think I didn't check my blind spot, Ah Bengmobile was actually in my rear-view mirror with space to spare between our vehicles. To close the gap that quickly shows a wilful intent on his part to pressure me to stay in my lane despite my early signal and the fact that I had already committed to the movement to change lane. Guess he was in a hurry. There was something urgent in the hand 'signal' he proffered in my direction immediately after we got clear of each other.
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