Dog eat dog

Public reaction to the new policy of not publishing the names of the top students in the PSLE is understandably divided. But the change is only cosmetic, considering the deeper issues underlying the problem.

If we genuinely celebrated the success of our best and brightest, then there would be a reason to publish their names for everyone to see. Unfortunately, the greater majority of us is more likely to see those names as not belonging to us and are therefore an indictment of our own failure. Yes, even though we passed and got to where we needed to go, because our names aren't spelled out in neon lights we feel like what we have accomplished is hardly good enough.

But now when we choose not to reveal those names, the problem doesn't get solved so much as it is now driven underground. Without transparency, nobody is going to know what the highest scores are and everybody is going to feel like a failure as we are more likely to rue our own inadequacies rather than celebrate our own achievements.

This very narrow band that we perceive as 'success' is probably the root of S'porean discontent. We're told that life is a competition and only the most deserving 'win', while the rest... well, actually no one has ever said what happens to the rest other than eternal suffering and damnation. So, because most of us fall in the category of The Rest, we're living the life we deserve. Self-fulfilling prophecy, S'pore style.

Indeed, life is a competition. The fit, the strong survive; the weak are prey. I will not dispute that axiom. Our mistake is taking on the competition as a solo player. We view everybody as a competitor for the same prize. Whether it's 'foreign talent', the kids that hail from the elite schools, or even our own classmates, everyone who is not us we see as capable of putting a knife into our exposed back.

That's how we've been playing this education game -- and its expansion pack: 'Life of the Working Adult'. Our biggest dream is to discover the key that activates GOD mode, and our biggest frustration is discovering that there is none. In this game, the solo player is screwed.

The true key to winning this game is to play in co-op mode. The trick is to identify friends from enemies, and more importantly to realize that under a common threat, even enemies can be friends.

If we trace our current societal problems back through the school circuit, this is where our schools have let us down badly. Above the passing of exams which we are very good at teaching, this is the one lesson we never passed on to our kids. We let our kids grow up thinking everybody is an enemy, or at least a scheming competitor. Not exactly the foundations of a rock-solid cohesive society, is it?

Dogs hunt in packs and share the spoils. Single, solitary dogs are the spoiled ones that are hand-fed by their indulgent owners and growl protectively over their meagre possessions. In a dog-eat-dog world, which breed of dog is the more likely to survive? Are you, fellow S'porean, bred to hunt for yourself; or to be fed by whomever you think owns you?

Sweet nothing

"Oh, baby, whisper sweet nothings into my ear...!" Ok, some context before you get the wrong idea: there's a thunderstorm going on outside and the two boys have gone into hiding. This here compromising situation is more a game of "sardines" than a surreptitious smooch under the radar. At least, that's what I prefer to think.

Ooga booga booga

Not much happening. The dripping has ceased but the boy isn't quite out of the woods yet. He's still straining at the sandbox and tomorrow we'll find out how he copes without medication. Meanwhile, he's still behaving as normal. He eats, he jumps and he sleeps just like the cat he's been. And now, he's just looking goofy for the camera.

Input equals output

M-i-L brewed a chrysanthemum concoction that she swears will allieviate Maui's urinary problems. It's worked on her human 'patients' before, so it's got to work on cats too.

I can't help feeling a little skeptical of the claim. There is a superstitious association in that the colour of the brew happens to be the same colour as pee, hence input is equivalent to output. Secondly, the fact that people are imbibing larger-than-usual amounts of the brew is probably what is causing the increased outflow at the toilet.

That, of course, is my logical brain at work. The emotional part of me is grateful that more people are taking an interest in doing something to help the boy. And save our floor and furniture from the ghastly yellow peril that follows him wherever he goes. Ew.

Some assembly required

dNYel goes on retreat and we get an expensive toy to put together. This is not the Lego I grew up with. The Lego I remember comprised simple blocks of varying shapes and sizes, though nothing approaching this level of complexity. The manual for this Rhino truck equivalent contained 76 pages of plans and looked not a little daunting at first glance.

Amazingly, the steering wheel really controls the front wheels; the doors open and close; and the lights light up at the flip of a switch... or at least they did for a while, until the batteries ran out, or something.

Building something this complex in the time we had was quite a feat of cooperative work. With a personnel strength of nine at the table, and without prior discussion of resource allocation, the group divided itself into an assembly team and a resource-gathering team and worked furiously to complete the task. None of us would have been happy to leave it partially assembled. It was a matter of pride and an internal assurance that it could be done in time that motivated the effort.

Of course, there was a lot more on today's agenda. The year may be over, but there's a staggering amount of prep that we have to get done for next year. With major personnel redeployments; the pressure of rising expectations; and a brand new year to do better what we did the year before, the team's got to pull together and simply get the job done.

I have a sense that collaboration is the name of the game for 2013. Good. It's the same game the kids will be playing too.

So ready to come home

The boy is so ready to come home. I wish I could say he's completely cured, but the vet is taking a wait and see approach. It's a delicate balance of medications he's been put on. The anti-inflammatory dosage is up 50% and he has to take a quarter tablet of valium a day. How did my cat end up being prescribed valium before me? It's a muscle relaxant. 'nuff said.

He has one week to get better, or else when we see Kasey next week, we'll be discussing surgery. Worst case scenario. I'm not convinced this is the best option, though. It sounds too drastic and permanent. The websites that I've been researching suggest that a stress-free environment and a change of dry food to canned food (bought nine cans of prescription canned food from the vet) might relieve the problem. Well, let's see...

The pre-coronation

Had my pre-crown appointment. First the temporary filling was filed away, then I had to bite down on two moulds (which tasted like chewing gum) from which my permanent crown will be cast. Some time during the procedure, I felt around the gap with my tongue and felt the cuboid peg that had been installed right in the middle of the tooth. I also had some of the sharp edges of the surrounding teeth filed smooth, presumably so the crown will eventually fit better. The final part of the procedure was to cover the gap with a tooth-shaped plastic cap that probably fitted into the peg like a Lego brick. Only two weeks left to wait until my official coronation.

Dentist offered to straighten out my front teeth. I said I'll think about it.

Not a happy camper

Poor Maui. Confined in a cage; one tube sticking out his butt end; another sticking out his foreleg; and having to wear the Cone of Shame, the boy is not a happy camper. Before I arrived to visit, he wasn't eating. The techs told me he was quite fierce with them, which really is unusual for his temperament. He's such a sweetheart under normal circumstances. I agreed to help feed him.

While he was receptive to my petting, he still wasn't interested in his food. Not immediately, anyway. It took a lot of reassurance and a constant head rub until he finally wolfed down the two dishes that were his noms. Medication immediately followed: 1 ml anti-inflammatory in syrup form.

Compared to the horrifying liquid they drained from him yesterday (Nair showed me the container), his fluids are looking a lot more normal today. A good sign, but he's still going to have to stay hospitalized for at least another day. Hope I'll be up to visiting him again tomorrow.

The Prince and the pee

Spoke too soon about Maui's symptoms. Pee droplets appearing all over the floor -- and furniture (and clothes) again! Washing machine and dryer working overtime. Doubt we're going to be entertaining visitors any time soon. Or if we do have visitors, doubt they'll want to be entertained for long.

Immediate Rx: hospitalized him with Dr Kasey over the next few days for treatment and observation. Kasey has fitted him with a catheter and cleared the blocked tubes the x-ray revealed. Feeding, hydration and medication from now will be medically supervised until we can bring him home.

Yes, this is the other side of pet ownership that isn't glam and cute, but it has to be done nonetheless.

Castles in the air take shape in the sand

It's the post-exam period and the kids are getting a bit of a break from regular classes. This bunch is being groomed as future leaders so they've come to take some practical life lessons at Castle Beach, ECP. The sand sculpture in the foreground is a sample.

Instructor, Alvin, briefs the kids on the programme: Plan, Build, Sell. Personal note: I've never met a motivational speaker I liked. They always rub me the wrong way. This one is no exception. 'nuff said.

Some of the plans that emerged for the sand city the kids were supposed to build were ambitious and elaborate. One of the lessons they learned was to follow through on the vision regardless of difficulty, not settle for second-best which, apparently, they did.

Oh, well. At least they had fun.

Digging in

Root canal #2 went in really deep. Hurts more the second time around. The scraping I got used to from the first time, but in this instalment Doc Chan had to jam filling material right inside the tooth raising the pain bar a bit higher. Right now I can feel something like a screw or reinforcing strut in there and I don't know if I will ever be able to ignore the irritation.

The good news is that the new temporary crown has been sculpted to look and feel like the original tooth, and the surface texture feels smoother than the old one. I'm not done yet, however. Am looking forward to my pre-coronation next week. In the meantime, I hope I can graduate from porridge and mashed bananas to more substantial food real soon.

Jailbreak

The irrepressible Maui is quite the Houdini. Confinement is really not his thing. Locked up, he cries so loudly we worry that the neighbours will call an investigation into possible animal abuse. Regardless, he's figured out how to escape his prison. Either he's strong enough to pull the heavy glass shower door open by himself, or his shadowy protector (background) has been breaking him out from the outside. Never mind. His symptoms are subsiding so he's entitled to his freedom once again.

Prisoner of circumstance

Poor Maui is confined to the spare shower stall, along with his food and water dishes, a floor mat and his own personal sandbox. His Guantanamo Bay experience is hopefully temporary, that is until he can overcome his incontinence problem. Vet Nair guesses that Maui has been under stress and isn't drinking enough water, thus contracting a urinary tract infection.

His problem explains the little droplets of moisture we found all over the living room floor since yesterday. But it was only when I carried him for a playful noogie that I realized how damp my hand had become all of a sudden. Ew.

Nair shot him up with two weeks' worth of antibiotics, but he still has to take a daily syrup by syringe. To encourage him to drink more water, we're starting him off by filling his dish with pet milk, which he likes and will drink. Overnight, we'll change the milk for water and see if that works.

There is only one suspect as to who has been stressing out Maui: Pebbles. The two boys really do not get along well at all. Pebbles has since been banished, sent back to the tender loving hands of M-i-L who now has to look after him when May is away. Pebbles is now felinae non grata in our house. Sorry, May. :'(

Not the whole tooth

After a day to calm down from the initial shock, a more objective assessment of the damage is that it isn't as bad as I had imagined. Although I gave up the old molar for lost, it actually is still mostly there... except for about a quarter that's been temporarily filled in with spackle or whatever they're using. That would explain why when the dentist tried to show me the fragment that she'd extracted -- fell out, more like -- I was all like, "where's the rest?" to which all I got in reply was a mystified look.

The temporary crown has the consistency of sandpaper, though, and because it's the most unusual thing in my mouth, my tongue is rubbing itself raw on its surface. :p

Unexpected procedure

This really is an update on today's post, but it deserves a spot of its own. Funny how things turn out. First you comment that instinct is telling you to save a grand, later fate tells you you're gonna have to spend two.

Perhaps I should have taken the bosses up on their lunch offer, but I decided to eat alone. Halfway through lunch, there was a loud 'crack' inside my head. I thought I'd crunched a bone shard, but my tongue found a sharp edge where I once would have felt a molar. That wasn't good. The finger probe went in next and drew out blood. That really wasn't very good. Broken tooth, no doubt.

Did a Google search on my S3 and found a few dentistries in my immediate area. The first was closed for lunch. Fortunately, though the second was also closed for lunch, the duty dentist was still on hand to look at my emergency.

I had big plans when I woke up this morning. But in the afternoon, my mouth was numb and drooly and I was having an unexpected root canal treatment to save what was left.

I'd heard about root canal, and it usually isn't described as a pretty picture. Here, there were charts pinned to the wall explaining everything. The consent form they had me sign listed some possible horror scenarios that could occur though the dentistry absolves itself from liability for any such eventuality. Tools breaking off inside the tooth requiring further surgery, for example, or infections setting in if the patient was negligent in following after-care procedures. None of this information is helping me settle my mind that I'M HAVING ROOT CANAL!!! But I know I will regret not seeking treatment more, so I sign consent.

Anesthesia numbs, yet there's still feeling where you don't want it. But the procedure went tolerably well and I didn't die of pain or other complications like I thought I would. In the gap, now there's a temporary crown that feels more like a blob of hard, dried putty where there once was smooth enamel. I bought a couple of painkillers for when the anesthesia wears off, but it's worn off and I don't feel the need to take them. There is a mild, throbbing sensation at the moment, but no real pain. Perhaps my brain is still hopped up on oxytocin and assorted endorphins, naturally produced through positive emotional stimulus, such as through scrolling pix of lolcats, etc.

Dinner was a sad affair of soft foods: a triumvirate of medium-sized whipped potato from KFC, washed down with a delectable corn soup from MOS Burger. Looks cheap, but altogether costs more than a regular meal at either one of those places.

Today's treatment set me back over $400, while the entire series was quoted at two grand, barring complications. Hopefully, June's corporate insurance can help me recover some of the cost, but certainly not all of it. Poor Mr L33t will so have to wait another year for upgrades.

If it ain't broke (but I am)

I really wanted to fork out a grand on a complete overhaul of Mr L33t's system. This after a year of procrastination. I had already researched what I figured was the best motherboard-cpu-RAM and video card package for what I was willing to pay... and didn't go through with it.

The same reason for holding back is exactly the same reason from last year: there's nothing wrong with him. He's decently fast; gets all my work done without breaking a sweat; and for the record I've defeated Diablo 3 on Inferno mode (the hardest before Hardcore where death is permanent) with my Monk character -- on a four-year-old PC. He's even up to handling my D3 Inferno farming runs at Monster Power [level] 2, though I simply have no patience to increase MP levels any further.

I may yet go through with the upgrade sooner or later. It's a consumer inevitability. But not today, not while a cooler head rules and the wallet is tight.

Spot this!

GP 2012 was a bag of mixed nuts. Let's see what questions I can recall (in no particular order):

• Something about the functionality and beauty of math.
• Something about the value of preserving the world's minority languages.
• The protection of animal rights in your society.
• Can violence be justified?
• Should technology be used for financial gain?
• Is the economy the criteria for good governance?
• Can humour be serious?
• Something about the donation of "suitable" organs after we die... though I can't imagine why I would want to donate UNsuitable organs at any time.

And four others that probably left no impression on me.

I do recall my first response being that if the kids prepared themselves by "spotting questions", good luck to them. These questions appreciate a broad, current coverage of material, and can be a lot of fun to write as they present a nice range of thought-provoking assumptions. But then, those who rely more on a cut-and-paste approach would hardly find this exercise fun at all.

For my colleagues who like to identify "patterns" and "trends" in essay question setting, the vibe I'm picking up from today's experience is that the paper is being designed to be less predictable. Guess Cambridge is getting tired of our cookie-cutter essays and is hoping to encourage more originality of composition -- for the sake of their own sanity, if anything.

Over on Paper 2, the discussion was music and its function in society. Even if we don't raise the subject of music much in class, hopefully the kids do listen to some music and can talk about that... though extending from the individual perspective to the social perspective is what they realize they have to do. *keeps fingers firmly crossed

Ah, well, it's over. Whatever the kids did, we hope and we pray that it was enough.

The name's Little, Chicken Little

After "Skyfall" can anybody really justify why 007, James Bond, is still on the British taxpayers' payroll?

Warning: SPOILERS follow

Let's do a run-down of the events that occur in this installment:

1. Save Agent Ronson's life -- Ronson dies
2. Retrieve stolen laptop hard disk -- gets hit by friendly fire, target escapes
3. Goes on unauthorised three-month vacation -- MI6 gets blown up
4. Reports back for duty -- fails every field agent test in the book
5. Captures Silva -- Macao contact killed
6. Holding Silva -- Silva escapes
7. Protect British public -- subway disaster; Wesminster gets heavily shot up
8. Protect M -- Bond ancestral home, "Skyfall", blown to smithereens; M doesn't make it
9. Receive M's legacy -- gets M's favourite paperweight... and new boss is Lord Voldemort himself!

So, did Bond even get one thing right in this story? No wonder they say civil servants live off an iron ricebowl.

Kicking the last chicks out of the nest

Just three more hours and the Class of 2012 will be out of my hair, preferably for good. Their good too, not necessarily mine. This post-prelim exam period has been one of the most strenuous I've ever had with my consultation slots booked nearly solid over the last couple of weeks. Only a couple of cancellations, but empty slots get quickly filled up with other takers on the unofficial waiting list. I don't remember ever being this popular with my previous batches.

The actual paper is due this coming Monday, but I'm drawing the consults to a close here and now. Their success is heavily dependent on their independence so they have a few remaining days to prep themselves. The hard part for me, of course, is letting them go trusting that I've tutored them enough -- which is something I can never reassure myself of. But at this late stage of the game, it'll have to do.

I end with three kids I haven't seen at all through this period. Must remind myself that because they've left it so late, I must reinforce, not contradict; assure, not freak them out. Whatever they have to offer today will have to be enough for Monday.

USS Halloween Horror Nights 2

A little better strategy is in order if we want to enjoy this event at USS more next year.

Time: 2000-0100 hrs is too short to do everything, so despite the temptation to ride the coasters we have to be more focused on the specially themed attractions, even if it means forgoing our favourite rides.

Crowd: the place is swarming with merry-makers who create great atmosphere for the event, but also unfortunately make the lines for the rides and everything else very long. We waited about an hour to get on the Battlestar Galactica (Cylon) and another on The Mummy Returns. And that was all the time we had as upon exit from the Egyptian Necropolis, it was nearly 0000 hrs already.

Lockers: in crowded situations like this one, the time spent waiting and riding will invariably exceed the lockers' grace period and you have to pay the machine in order to get your stuff out of it. It gets difficult when all your belongings including wallet containing cash, NETS and credit card are locked in the locker as you are not permitted to ride with loose items in your pockets. For cash transactions, exact amount only, no change is given -- we found out a bit too late. For both rides, we ended up spending $18 on the lockers alone. Grr.

Food: we purchased the theme dinner at KT's Bar and Grill (on of the restaurants in USS). It was a three-course meal including a choice of baby pork ribs (above) and duck (below). The ribs were succulent and tender, likewise the duck. The theme decorations turned out cuter than the picture in the menu promised, but it was good eating anyway. There seemed to be a bit of a kerfuffle over the question of whether we had purchased the meal vouchers online, but it was only because online orders apparently received a complementary fruit punch, a nice surprise for us...

like so.

But back to strategy: the food was fabulous and reasonably priced ($28+++ per pax) but to start serving at 2000 hrs... well, the one hour we enjoyed eating was also one hour's headstart on the rides for everyone else who had nommed earlier elsewhere.

Parking: the one thing that worked for us was a last minute decision. Because parking was so limited at Vivocity, we detoured to park at the Beach car park on Sentosa. $3 entrance + $2 parking = $5 total. Even though the monorail ended service at midnight, it was a short and pleasant stroll back to the beach from USS to get M2 back.

Conclusion: to really enjoy ourselves, spend more money. Buy a day pass to ride coasters all day long, upgrade to stay for the night's activities and fork out for a universal express pass for faster (than normal) access to the attractions. Carry only a credit card and your smartphone (useful as a camera and for contacting separated party members) in a secured pocket, leave all other miscellaneous barang-barang in the car.

P.S.: To infer that we didn't enjoy the experience is not accurate. The creepy music and sound effects relentlessly permeating the entire theme park added atmosphere to the main street that was divided into sections by theme. From the House of Dolls at the entrance, to the post-apocalyptic urban cityscape, to the Mummy-cursed streets of ancient Egypt populated with ghouls and zombies popping up to scare random passers-by, USS really did take a lot of trouble to get the environment perfect for Halloween. All I'm saying is, next year, we go with a better plan to maximize the time allotted.

USS has dedicated staff. This forlorn ghoul guards the door of the closed gift shop. No one gets in regardless of how badly they want to buy a souvenir.