The cat, the other cat, and the egg

Although Puss spins off from the Shrek franchise, the look and feel of the movie starring the feline in the floppy footwear is very different from that of Far, Far Away. Here, we have the origin backstory of the unlikely partnership between Puss and misfit egghead, Humpty Alexander Dumpty. It's a childhood bonding taking the two through a story of crime, duplicity, betrayal and vengeance -- though not necessarily in that order. And a quest for redemption is in there too, holding the whole narrative together.

Where Puss hails from is realistic: people are people, not fantasy backdrops. It's a place where magic doesn't occur on a regular basis; but of course a talking cat with stylish skillz and a walking egg are bound to bring their own fantastic elements with them wherever they go. Magic beans, giant beanstalk, stolen golden egg-laying golden gosling are all part of this Mother Goose mashup, though the stoic residents of San Ricardo accept it all unquestioningly.

Overall, quite a fun romp, though not quite as laugh-out-loud in humour as Shrek. Despite the logic, the fairy-tale elements feel awkward in this mix, and rather than accepting them as natural, there is more effort taken to explain the connections than it's worth. And in the case of Kitty Softpaws, there is no fantasy precedent at all but a sad morality tale about how inhumane it is to declaw your cat. Nevertheless, the story is just about clever and engaging enough to follow through its twists and turns to the end.

M2 amidst the exotics

Took M2 for his 40k servicing at the new service centre in Ubi. Was a bit worried about the staff I knew since Mazda got bought over by Eurokars. Would they have survived the shuffle? Happy to know that SR, Rosie, and Anna the cashier are still around. Oh, the reason for the pix (above) is that the new place also houses the dealership for Porsche and the basement parking lot is full of these pristine still wrapped in plastic beauties. Yummy!

Sweet auto-pimped rides on The Run

The premise for "NFS: The Run" is a coast-to-coast race across the USA over the varying types of terrain therein. Story mode is straightforward: having pissed off the mob, your character takes the offer of a 10% cut of a $25m purse if he can cross the finish line first ahead of 200+ other racers.

It would have been nice to drive continuously from SF to NY, overtaking expensive cars as you go, but the whole sequence is broken up into race segments where you take on a handful of racers at a time. Occasionally, the cops are there to try spoil things for you, running interference and setting roadblocks while you are busy concentrating on being #1 badass authoriTAH of the asphalt.

What's a big innovation from previous versions of NFS is that each race is now broken up into checkpoints so when you wreck, get busted or fall so far behind there's no hope of catching up, you can reset to the last checkpoint and just drive better, rather than restart the race all over again. The higher the difficulty setting, the fewer the checkpoints, of course.

The Run also removes the ability to customize your own ride. If you want fancier wheels and finer tuning, you have to earn them by defeating Challenges.

So, the story is just to get the player's feet wet. The real meat-and-potatoes of the Run is Challenge mode in which the driver not only has to finish first, but also beat the clock to unlock rewards. For the more sociable gamer, there's Multiplayer mode too -- beat real people, win more stuff. Bragging rights go without saying.

There are some annoyances, like keyboard controls reverting to default after customization, and sometimes the screen locks up and crashes back to Windows. Time to install more RAM, perhaps?

Slowly working my way through single player. It'll still be a while yet before I'm feeling sociable enough to take my show on the information superhighway.

Shopping for loans

Time to think about options for refinancing my home loan. With my 3-year lock in period having expired, the bank is now offering me a generous new rate of 4.08% per annum. While that doesn't sound like much under normal, everyday circumstances, when applied to a 6-figure principal, it's a whopping extra bushel of dosh every year -- I don't gross enough a month to cover the interest alone!

Good thing is, the bank's current refinancing package offers a rate that is actually lower than the initial rate. Still shopping around for better deals, though. I know they're out there.

Out of the Stone-Age

Finally pulled myself out of the Stone-Age and shelled out for a Blu-Ray player. Can't believe how much prices have fallen. This thing I had girded myself to pay in excess of $2C for came in at less than $150. Yes, it's a simple model and apparently "smart" too. I thought that meant wi-fi "smart". It just turned out to be that it had a LAN port on the back. Eh, no wonder so cheap.

Happy hols, x13!

I have a good civics group this year. "Good" as in um, well, "good". Even our wild, informal college annual photo is trying very painfully to have some semblance of wildness and informality. I told them that based on our year-end results, we're not exactly the scholar types. Success doesn't come easily to us. Instead, we number among the majority that have to work like crazy just to remain afloat. But if I know this group, work ethic is something I don't have to worry about. It'll be a tough, uphill struggle against a steep learning curve next year in J2 and these guys will have their noses to the grindstone all the way. I'm proud of them now, and I know I'll be even prouder of them when we finally get to the end.

My jaded eyes

Finally coming down to the tail-end of supervising the kids' projects. Now it's time to assess the final submitted artifacts. Our rubric is based on a scale of expectations where the highest attainable band is at the point where the work produced surpasses what we could reasonably expect of it. And here, things get sticky. The more the kids seek the supervisor's advice, the higher the supervisor's expectations get. And this year, the kids have been exceptionally diligent.

Because neither they not I have left much room for personal insight and inspiration, I cannot honestly say that anyone's work has gone that step beyond. Sorry kids, but ironically this is one instance in which our hard work throughout the year has not paid off. Well, from my perspective, anyway. Hopefully, you'll be able to score more points in other parts of the assessment that other eyes (apart from my jaded ones) are prepared to be more generous towards.

Oil have nothing to do with that!

On Elim's recommendation, we purchased a bottle of salmon oil for the benefit of the animals' coats. Who wouldn't want their pets' fur to be luxuriant, smooth, fine and shag-carpet like? And what feline could resist the aroma of fresh fish essence? If I were a cat, I'd be clawing my owner's face off just to get at the bottle of tantalizing promise. But no, not my cats. They can stomach lizards, 'roaches and each other's vomit when we're not looking, but 5ml of SALMON oil a day they sniff suspiciously and gingerly back away like it's the Worst Thing on Earth! Fortunately, it's not going to waste. Q-tip just loves the stuff; can't get enough of it. Fine. Nice coat for the dog, then.

Games for playing and plays for watching

Finally, after a long drought of worthy PC games available on the market, suddenly the floodgates have opened and now I am spoiled for choice. Great timing too, 'cos I would have been too busy to give any of the above much attention anyway. But once this week is over and the year starts winding down, there's enough material here to keep me off the streets and out of trouble. XD

Caught the 'Richard III' last night with Mel. Very efficient presentation using minimal set. Just a quick arrangement of a few furniture elements to depict spatial and power relationships between the players make amazingly diverse scene changes quickly.

'Richard III' is usually played to test the boundaries of the Elizabethan Era M18 rating for violent content, though the violence was mostly sanitized by abstractions in Mendes' version. Here, the plots laid bare by Kevin Spacey playing Richard III reveal the inner workings of a twisted supervillain's mind, and seeing how they pan out in reality is what's fun. The bodies are really just a foregone conclusion.

Dark humour abounds with the juxtaposition between lines laden with intense drama and snarkily casual asides. It shows the awkwardly human cracks in the many social masks that Gloucester (a.k.a., Richard III) deftly switches between on his painful and bloody climb to the top of the Royal heap.

Great play, glad I caught it. But the real drama of the evening took place right after curtain-call with Spacey halting the applause to pay a personal tribute to his high school drama teacher whose early mentorship encouraged the development of Kevin Spacey, the actor of stage and film that we know today. Oh, did I mention that said teacher was seated in the audience with us, having flown in from Taiwan to audit the performance? Yes, that puts a context to what would otherwise have been an odd outburst onstage. And with the tribute came a rallying call to continue supporting Arts Education in school today! Can I have an "amen" to that, brother?

Left behind

What do you say to the kids who have found out that their final grades don't permit them to move up to JC2 along with their friends in the coming year? In a system that thrives on its rigour, education here inevitably brings about casualties. In situations like these, all I can do as CT is to help the distraught adjust to their situation and encourage positive thinking so that they can bounce back from this, their first truly major setback in life.

Honestly, it is better to face retention in JC1 now than it is to receive an unsatisfactory grade at the 'A's in JC2 next year. Although that's not very comforting right now, there is wisdom in the statement.

I wonder if I should tell them about my own horrendous experiences as a student of their age? I've not decided yet whether that would cheer them up or depress them further.

Meantime, the kids who are movin' up have to deal with survivor's guilt. I have an emo class.

Flames! Flames!

Beware the humble chilli padi. You are looking at a saucer of light soy sauce within which luxuriously soaks -- not a just a run-of-the-mill assassin -- but a consummate artist of genocide poised and ready to smite the unwary casual diner. Me.

This deceptively innocuous condiment is usually served sliced into fine rings. The moment I put just one little slice into my mouth to accompany a spoonful of bee hoon, there was an eruption of pure pain. Tears gushed forth in a futile bid to quash the flames... 

and of all times, the kopitiam auntie just happened by right then and asked if I wanted a drink. Of course I bloody wanted a drink! But with all the coughing, spluttering and choking going on, it took a while to translate.

The effect of that single crimson fragment lasted minutes! Needless to say, though as a habit I polish off the ordinary side servings, out of respect for the Deiety of capsaicin (whose divine presence I unmistakably discerned at the table set before me), I left this unholy relish undefiled for the remainder of my meal.

Sticky fingers

The time after morning service doesn't usually get any more dramatic than what happened today. During the post-service breakfast, some auntie looking person was caught brazenly walking off with someone else's handbag. There was a confrontation, protests of innocence and counter-accusations of persecution which continued until the police arrived on the scene. A harried police officer had his hands full ascertaining the facts of the case from the increasingly hysterical suspect and the equally excited crowd of witnesses standing around her, preventing any possibility of escape. It eventually ended in handcuffs and a ride to the nearest cop shop for the perp.

While the church has the power to forgive people's moral failings, the social and legal consequences of crime still have to be dealt with by the secular Authorities. Such is the separation of Church and State.

Oh, the trudgery

New strategy for thrice a week workouts now that I've restarted my fitness plan. Recent bouts of ill-health suggest to me that working on building strength is doing diddly-squat for my overall well-being. Endurance, instead, is my current goal:

Treadmill. 5 kph walking speed. Incline level 6. 1 hour duration.

I hate treadmills and exercise bikes 'cos they get repetitive and boring after a while. Running in a hamster wheel, after all, can only keep me entertained for... oh... 2 minutes at a stretch. So, how to sustain a whole hour? Combine the trudging with reading trashy books downloaded into my trusty e-reader. Solves two problems at a once: keeping me motivated to walk up a decent sweat and finding time to read beyond that which needs to be graded.

If this stupid itchy-throat cough that I've been nursing for more than a week already will go away in the next couple of days, it's probably a sign that I'm on the right track.

Far-flung relatives

Kid bro's wedding has attracted some international attention. Some of our more far-flung relatives have flown in to witness the occasion, and are now staying on to take in the sights.

As anticipated, Aunt S is putting up at our place -- our first houseguest ever. We were worried about how she would adapt to our menagerie, hygiene-conscious as she is, but Q-tip and Maui have been good ambassadors of goodwill so far. A peaceful coexistence is possible over the next few days.

We're back at the Fullerton (left) for English afternoon tea with Aunt S. All the tea you can drink, all the pretty little finger foods you can stuff your face with in both sweet and savory varieties.

From the Fullerton, our little party took a stroll around the Bay to gawk at MBS, before cruising back to the Fullerton by river-taxi. Mental note: Aunt S does not like long walks in our muggy, hot weather. Guess the afternoon climb up Bukit Timah Hill will have to be taken off the itinerary, then. Oh, well.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Wild animals have broken loose from their cages. The human caretaker is found dead of as yet unstated causes. Schools are closed and there's a sort of self-imposed curfew after dark 'cos no one knows what's lurking around the corner looking for an easy meal. Sounds like the plot of Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Or maybe Madagascar. If it's the latter, I'd keep an eye out for the penguins.

Edit 01:
Oh, crap! It was funny before, but I didn't expect this story to end in a massacre! :'(

Baton passed at last

Little bro taketh up the hand of his betrothed, and with this ring, he she wed.

If you're wondering about the gauzy background, it's because they're taking their vows in a Sukkot (a temporary tent-like shelter) in honour of the Feast of Tabernacles which falls this week.

Apart from the line-dancing to "Hava Nagila"and the smashing of crockery, this wedding was pretty much Jewish themed. From the Hebraic marching music to the occasional blasts of the shofars (ram's horn trumpets), to the waving of banners and gymnastic ribbons by the younger members of the service, cooler heads thankfully called off the plan for circumcisions all-round.

Presiding minister, Rev Koon, took the opportunity to illustrate the significance of the Jewish wedding tradition to the Gospel message through both an improvised roleplay as well as the actual marriage ceremony itself.

It was a lively service that some people earnestly wanted to last forever... 

So after a couple of extended final choruses, we eventually proceeded with the business of formal photo-taking and the lunch reception.

And that's it! With my bro married off, our previous generation can now rest easy as the last male heir of my generation can now go about extending the family line into the next generation.

A fistful of flora

Finally, the last member of my generation is getting hitched! My very own kid bro will say, "I do", in the morning. Today, I drove June and May around to Sing See Soon Flowers and GG Fresh Flower, where we collected these white roses and other flora. We're counting on May's expertise to create the blushing bride's hand bouquet (above)...,

the bridesmaid's wrist corsage, as well as the VIPs' lapel corsages. The final products are chillin' in the study overnight where they should be safe from the undue attention of curious cats. One cool, refreshing night's sleep before being delivered bright and early at the wedding tomorrow.

Trapped with Norwegian dudes

Trapped on a research station during a blizzard in the Antarctic along with a small handful of fellow shut-ins, one or more of whom may not be what they appear to be. The Thing (2011), as did its previous two makes explores human paranoia in a castaway society, where predator and prey switch roles in a heartbeat.

A movie like this relies on constantly rising tension, building up moments of anticipation which it does quite well initially, both in the surprising attacks by the predator and by what human beings will do to each other when they're terrified out of their wits.

However, once the Thing has fully revealed itself, the tension drops off somewhat as it becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, with both parties equally capable of putting the hurt on each other. The cast list also suffers from having one too many Olafs -- Norwegian dudes who aren't so distinct from each other that it's hard to keep track of who's who before they fall victim to the madness of an alien first contact gone terribly wrong.

When the Thing starts rampaging around like a bull in a China shop, that's pretty much the end of the tension, turning a horror classic into something of an action movie with the diminutive character of Kate (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) being the quick-thinking survivalist who makes it to the end (eh, that's not really a spoiler, is it?).

But it's during the scenes interspersed with the closing credits that all the clues start falling into place, and the significance of the events that had just taken place is revealed. Because it was hidden in plain sight, the last surprise was for me the biggest surprise of all.

... wait. What? You knew it all along? Well, I didn't read the literature on the movie before I watched it. Who asked you?

dNYel cook-off

dNYel bonding exercise took us to SoEZ Cooking Studio where in teams of four we learned to prepare a three-course set meal. Drawn at random, with me were Liz, Mdm Joojoo and Gladys. They're not people I normally work with, but each of us found a niche in the team to occupy. Since it was better for me not to handle sharp objects, SGL and Gladys focused on cubing, julienning and baton-ing the vegetables. Liz rescued my earlier attempt at making the sauce, which left me stirring the pot and timing when to throw what in next.

On arrival, the workstations were already laid out with the necessary ingredients in mostly the right quantities. Kitchen paraphernalia neatly arranged within easy reach. If you can't find something, it's probably in the shelf underneath the work surface. The instructor chef gives a demo of preparing the more complicated course, then we're on our own to interpret the given recipes from which we had to cook up our own culinary creations.

The instructions in the recipes were a bit vague, though. Specific quantities were not mentioned, so I didn't know that we needed to divide the chicken stock into three parts: one for the minestrone, one for boiling the vegetables that formed the bed and garnish for... the sauce the cod was supposed to be basted in. Result: while the others ended up with a pan poached cod, my group served cod stew instead. Observe below:

Cod and vegetables, served slightly underdone with a topping of weak, light soy sauce-based gravy. Just the way I like it. The veggies on the right is a fresh, crispy cold pumpkin salad. Raw pumpkin soaked in ice-water has a nice crunch, quite refreshing to nibble on. And minestrone with a touch too much salt under guess who's liberal hand.

Reflective of dNYel itself, I daresay we did ok despite the vagueness of our task instructions. Although not exactly award-winning, we still pulled off a "tolerably edible" rating... at least, by my standards.

enRaged and barfy

Grading media vs violence essay question inspired me to buy Rage. Now I can take it all out on the muties and bandits wandering around a post-apocalyptic wasteland while I attempt to complete random find-fetch-and-carry tasks for the friendly people in the neighbourhood. You build a sense of community very quickly with people who will provide survival gear, weapons, ammo and vehicles, though why they don't take the initiative to do things for themselves is beyond me.

But with my schedule, I've barely scratched the surface of what looks to be a deep, involving campaign. The depth comes from a huge number of gameplay choices available to the player. There are many weapons and ammo loadouts to master; vehicular combat and/or stunt-racing; and probably a few optional mini-games as well. Lots of loot to pick up too: different combinations of which offer weapon upgrades; survival tools or sellable items from which to purchase upgrades and um, more stuff.

Enemy AI is quite proficient at duck and cover, costing valuable ammo, so for a player like me, patience is the biggest virtue. It's also the biggest virtue because -- as long-time readers can remind me -- FPS games cause motion-sickness. Why do I never remember this before plunking down money on games that make me feel on the inside what the muties look like on the outside once I'm through with them? I'm going to have to take this game one mission at a time, and that looks like my Christmas holiday assignment this year.

And THAT's what I think of media-violence essays.