This nice kitten has been roaming my corridors for the past few nights.
Sorry about the quality of the video. My handphone's video function is a bit shite. As you can see, 'Dearie' can't stay still, hence the 'Blair Cat Project' feel.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Just Enjoy the Football. Why Bet?
Barca were held to a goalless draw by Chelski at Nou Camp.
Barca may be playing extra-terrestrial football at the moment but Chelski brought them down to earth with a resolute defensive display.
To say that the Pensioners packed the bus in front of the goal is an understatement. They brought the train as well and for once, the impressive trio of Messi, E’to and Henry, were left frustrated. On the rare occasions the Chelski defence was breached, Cech produced some crucial saves to deny the home side.
Even with Chelski playing with ten men behind the ball, Barca could have been more inventive. Watching them last night you might be given for thinking they were trying to pass their way to goal, such was their reluctance to send in crosses or take shots. At one point, Barca had over 200 passes to Chelski’s 70.
In football, dominance does not mean anything. With Essien and Ballack mopping up in midfield, Barca were passing their way to no man’s land. They could even have fallen behind, but for Valdes’ intervention.
So all to play for at Stamford Bridge. 0:0 the score, a result that leaves many punters tearing their hair and betting slips.
Unlucky - and bald – punters may try their luck again when the ManUre take on the Arse tonight. My advice is: leave this one alone.
Barca may be playing extra-terrestrial football at the moment but Chelski brought them down to earth with a resolute defensive display.
To say that the Pensioners packed the bus in front of the goal is an understatement. They brought the train as well and for once, the impressive trio of Messi, E’to and Henry, were left frustrated. On the rare occasions the Chelski defence was breached, Cech produced some crucial saves to deny the home side.
Even with Chelski playing with ten men behind the ball, Barca could have been more inventive. Watching them last night you might be given for thinking they were trying to pass their way to goal, such was their reluctance to send in crosses or take shots. At one point, Barca had over 200 passes to Chelski’s 70.
In football, dominance does not mean anything. With Essien and Ballack mopping up in midfield, Barca were passing their way to no man’s land. They could even have fallen behind, but for Valdes’ intervention.
So all to play for at Stamford Bridge. 0:0 the score, a result that leaves many punters tearing their hair and betting slips.
Unlucky - and bald – punters may try their luck again when the ManUre take on the Arse tonight. My advice is: leave this one alone.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Great Song
Okay I understand I am a few months late. Bush (whom this song is "dedicated") is no longer the US President. Still, it's a fantastic song. Here's Dear Mr. President, by Pink. Enjoy.
Just change a few lyrics here and there...and it will make a good NDP song. Maybe Stefanie Sun can sing it...
"Dear Mr. Old Dog Thief, take a walk with me..."
Just change a few lyrics here and there...and it will make a good NDP song. Maybe Stefanie Sun can sing it...
"Dear Mr. Old Dog Thief, take a walk with me..."
Two More Reasons to Leave the Shithole.
I met Police Car and Chicken at Marina Square last night. While having dinner the former told me that this year’s NDP will be different from the previous years’ This year’s marching contingent will march 3km in the city area before they go into the parade ground. This means that they will be subjected to public scrutiny.
I was incredulous. It’s been an open secret that our military are not run by the sharpest tools in the shed – although some idiots will disagree – but the level of delusional thinking here is truly astonishing. Do they actually believe that our servicemen are so physically fit?! To march in step and maintain a proper posture while doing so already demand a certain level of coordination and individual skill. To do that for 3km is like...
Unable to control my contempt, I scoffed at this stupid idea. The public will have a hell of a time taking videos of our servicemen unable to keep in step, unable to straighten their arms and slouching like trolls, before posting their videos on YouTube. We may be ruled by a totalitarian regime but China and North Korea we are not. Look at how their soldiers march and then look at ours. We will become an international laughing stock. (I must admit, I will beam with joy when that happens.)
Police Car then said the geniuses in charge of the NDP recognized the limitations of our mighty warriors and came up with a brilliant solution. No more 3km march! 2.8km now!
Fuck! I have a better solution: 3 m! Better still, cancel the fucking event!
After we finished dinner we spent some time at the arcade nearby. We thought about catching a movie. Being the horny bastard he is now, Police Car insisted that we go to GL. He said he didn’t want to spend money. Prior to this he had also said countless times that he is unable to restrain himself once he is in GL. The obvious contradiction meant that one had to give. And it did.
Chicken, who had a motor-bike, reached GL thirty minutes before we did. He called me to report that there were only “60 – 70 cocks” in the CBD but no merchandise. But there was hope. The ice cream seller stationed there – no doubt a man of impeccable morals – informed Chicken that the Chinese merchandise would only display themselves starting from 2330. The fuzz had been causing some inconvenience lately but like all good businessmen, the relations managers had their ways of working around the problem.
So the three of us walked towards the fish tanks for some window-shopping. On our way there we saw a pair of fuzz every 30m. They were doing what they were best at: pretending to do work and wasting taxpayers’ money. The pairs who bothered to “work” either questioned kids or harassed Bangladesh/Indian workers. I should have signed up to be a fuzz instead. Simple job, good pay, a more or less guaranteed contract scheme. Why the Hells did I join the goddamn air force for?! Why get worked like a slave when I can da bao kopi, sit down , talk cock and "keep the peace"?
Anyway, due to the stupid raids, the fish tanks were enjoying their best business in a while. For most of the establishments, only a few whores were available and they reminded me of my classmates. I was absolutely turned off and I expressed my frustration by cursing the fuzz and our sexless regime. A bloke cannot even get his rocks off in this bloody cuntry. Chicken said that if they closed down GL, he would emigrate to Malaysia. I might follow him.
We were tired from walking around so we had drinks at a coffee-shop. While Chicken was talking to his Chinese squeeze on the phone, Police Car and I were accosted by a Thai whore. She sat between us, quite close, and asked my friend if he wanted “to go hotel”. He refused her so she turned to me. I shook my head. It was not difficult to reject her proposal. Except for the one quality which she flaunted, she had no other selling points.
Police Car said that Magneto had gone to Korat. Presumably he has a girlfriend there. Although he is engaged, Magneto clearly does not subscribe to a “one woman” policy. I don’t blame him. His fiancée is a rotund spectacle and probably a dead fish in bed. Any bloke wants good sex with good-looking broads, and when he cannot get it at home he will satisfy his desires elsewhere.
Chicken seemed taken aback at Magneto’s behavior. Gesturing to the attractive Thai merchandise a few tables away, he said that if a bloke had a girlfriend like that he should stay on the straight and narrow. I found the irony quite hilarious, coming from a libertine like him. Both of us know that it is not true. A man will play around, regardless of his partner’s beauty, or lack thereof.
After our drinks we returned to the CBD to try our luck. True to the ice cream seller’s word, at 2230, a pair of whores stood on the sidewalk in front of the Darlene Hotel. They were an hour earlier than the “approved” timing but I must applaud their professionalism and devotion to duty. It’s hard to have employees who report to work an hour early in order to take advantage of the lack of competition. It’s a risky move, but entrepreneurship is all about taking calculated risks. I believe we should learn from them.
In the end, we left GL disappointed. We should have watched a movie instead. Police Car didn’t even patronize the fish tank. It was a waste of our time. The bloody fuzz should just let up a bit. As Police Car argued, even the whores need to eat. So much for free trade in this cuntry.
I was incredulous. It’s been an open secret that our military are not run by the sharpest tools in the shed – although some idiots will disagree – but the level of delusional thinking here is truly astonishing. Do they actually believe that our servicemen are so physically fit?! To march in step and maintain a proper posture while doing so already demand a certain level of coordination and individual skill. To do that for 3km is like...
Unable to control my contempt, I scoffed at this stupid idea. The public will have a hell of a time taking videos of our servicemen unable to keep in step, unable to straighten their arms and slouching like trolls, before posting their videos on YouTube. We may be ruled by a totalitarian regime but China and North Korea we are not. Look at how their soldiers march and then look at ours. We will become an international laughing stock. (I must admit, I will beam with joy when that happens.)
Police Car then said the geniuses in charge of the NDP recognized the limitations of our mighty warriors and came up with a brilliant solution. No more 3km march! 2.8km now!
Fuck! I have a better solution: 3 m! Better still, cancel the fucking event!
After we finished dinner we spent some time at the arcade nearby. We thought about catching a movie. Being the horny bastard he is now, Police Car insisted that we go to GL. He said he didn’t want to spend money. Prior to this he had also said countless times that he is unable to restrain himself once he is in GL. The obvious contradiction meant that one had to give. And it did.
Chicken, who had a motor-bike, reached GL thirty minutes before we did. He called me to report that there were only “60 – 70 cocks” in the CBD but no merchandise. But there was hope. The ice cream seller stationed there – no doubt a man of impeccable morals – informed Chicken that the Chinese merchandise would only display themselves starting from 2330. The fuzz had been causing some inconvenience lately but like all good businessmen, the relations managers had their ways of working around the problem.
So the three of us walked towards the fish tanks for some window-shopping. On our way there we saw a pair of fuzz every 30m. They were doing what they were best at: pretending to do work and wasting taxpayers’ money. The pairs who bothered to “work” either questioned kids or harassed Bangladesh/Indian workers. I should have signed up to be a fuzz instead. Simple job, good pay, a more or less guaranteed contract scheme. Why the Hells did I join the goddamn air force for?! Why get worked like a slave when I can da bao kopi, sit down , talk cock and "keep the peace"?
Anyway, due to the stupid raids, the fish tanks were enjoying their best business in a while. For most of the establishments, only a few whores were available and they reminded me of my classmates. I was absolutely turned off and I expressed my frustration by cursing the fuzz and our sexless regime. A bloke cannot even get his rocks off in this bloody cuntry. Chicken said that if they closed down GL, he would emigrate to Malaysia. I might follow him.
We were tired from walking around so we had drinks at a coffee-shop. While Chicken was talking to his Chinese squeeze on the phone, Police Car and I were accosted by a Thai whore. She sat between us, quite close, and asked my friend if he wanted “to go hotel”. He refused her so she turned to me. I shook my head. It was not difficult to reject her proposal. Except for the one quality which she flaunted, she had no other selling points.
Police Car said that Magneto had gone to Korat. Presumably he has a girlfriend there. Although he is engaged, Magneto clearly does not subscribe to a “one woman” policy. I don’t blame him. His fiancée is a rotund spectacle and probably a dead fish in bed. Any bloke wants good sex with good-looking broads, and when he cannot get it at home he will satisfy his desires elsewhere.
Chicken seemed taken aback at Magneto’s behavior. Gesturing to the attractive Thai merchandise a few tables away, he said that if a bloke had a girlfriend like that he should stay on the straight and narrow. I found the irony quite hilarious, coming from a libertine like him. Both of us know that it is not true. A man will play around, regardless of his partner’s beauty, or lack thereof.
After our drinks we returned to the CBD to try our luck. True to the ice cream seller’s word, at 2230, a pair of whores stood on the sidewalk in front of the Darlene Hotel. They were an hour earlier than the “approved” timing but I must applaud their professionalism and devotion to duty. It’s hard to have employees who report to work an hour early in order to take advantage of the lack of competition. It’s a risky move, but entrepreneurship is all about taking calculated risks. I believe we should learn from them.
In the end, we left GL disappointed. We should have watched a movie instead. Police Car didn’t even patronize the fish tank. It was a waste of our time. The bloody fuzz should just let up a bit. As Police Car argued, even the whores need to eat. So much for free trade in this cuntry.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Commercials We Ought to Have
I am damn sick and tired of the crap they show on local television and TVMobile. Since they like to flood the airwaves with so many damn commercials, at least show some quality shit! People are dog-tired after a day of slavery. They don't need to watch Joanne Peh or that Little Nonya girl time and again.
Why put your viewers through 90 minutes of S-League torture, when they can enjoy a minute of this?
My fellow countrymen and women should take heed.
This has to deserve a Nobel Prize for...erm... whatever. Just award the damn prize, fuck.
If only we had less prudes and pious bastards in this cuntry. Sigh...
It's quite unlikely this will ever happen in a restaurant in Singapore.
Why put your viewers through 90 minutes of S-League torture, when they can enjoy a minute of this?
My fellow countrymen and women should take heed.
This has to deserve a Nobel Prize for...erm... whatever. Just award the damn prize, fuck.
If only we had less prudes and pious bastards in this cuntry. Sigh...
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wrong, All Wrong
I was on the bus when the news came on. The First Dog was being officially introduced to the world. During the US elections Barack Obama had promised his daughter a dog if he won the Presidency. He made good on his promise.
Although I dislike dogs, I thought of how lucky that mutt is. That slobbering and boisterous creature will have the best of everything. While millions are losing their homes to foreclosure, with countless living below the poverty line, and 40% of the world’s population surviving on less than a dollar a day, First Dog will have everything money can buy. It makes me wonder if we have been wrong all this while, attributing special status to human life when so many humans are living worse than dogs.
In Buddhism, humans are ranked higher than animals on the reincarnation scale. It is a blessing, the result of good karma from previous lives that one is reborn as a human.
Siddhartha Gautama, the historic Buddha once took a pinch of sand and asked his disciple Ananda, ‘Can you count the sand in my hand?’
‘Yes, many,’ said Ananda.
‘Ananda, how many grains of sand are there in the world?’
‘Very very many,’ came the reply.
The Buddha then explained, ‘The sand in my hand represents the number who are fortunate enough to be born humans. Like all the sand in the world, it is but a tiny drop, insignificant compared to the myriad life forms in existence.’
This parable echoes the Buddhist view that human beings are truly blessed. First, they are sentient, intelligent and fully aware beings. Second, it is the easiest for them to hear and understand the Dharma. (Given that celestials, and in some versions asuras, are ranked above humans, this creates some controversy but we are not going into that today.)
If Buddhism is right and we are indeed blessed, why is there so much suffering in the world? Some people may be reincarnated as humans, but they never get the chance to lead perfectly normal and happy lives. Every day women are forced into prostitution, some are gang-raped at the age of seven and then stoned for their ‘offences’. Some humans are born deformed, diseased, crippled or retarded. By simply existing they bring pain to themselves and those who love them. Famine, drought, wars and genocides continue to make the lives of unfortunate humans who are caught up in them a living hell.
Even with the possibility of being able to hear the Dharma and therefore attain enlightenment, that does not imply (i) people will have access to the Buddha’s teachings (ii) in this Dharma Degenerate Age, the Dharma will not be corrupted (iii) people want to hear the Dharma. (iv) people who hear the Dharma will be enlightened. Indeed, when you are living rough in a Mexican town where everybody has to be a criminal to even make ends meet, who gives a damn about enlightenment? If trouble comes knocking on your door, you take out your AK 47 and blow them to bits. Enlightenment is irrelevant, and certainly no good if you and your family are slaughtered like pigs.
Contrast that to animals. True, animals suffer greatly as well. Farm animals are kept in inhumane conditions, their diets charged with steroids to fatten them, and in their prime they are slaughtered for food. In the wild, animals kill or be killed. There is no mercy to be had, no quarter given. While 99.99% of non-human animals lead arguably worse lives than human animals, one must realize that the existence of 0.01% who don’t, has slapped the Dharma in the face and is now asking to slap the other cheek as well.
Back to the Obama family’s dog. Will a Buddhist monk argue that that dog is not living a better life than some humans? What is the point of ‘rewarding’ a person for his good deeds in his previous lives with a human form if he dies of some contagion shortly after his birth? Wouldn’t he be happier if he were born a pedigree cat or dog instead? Being pampered for the rest of his life, never having to worry about this and that. He may only be a common beast, but unlike the supposedly ‘rewarded’ form, he gets to actually live.
People may think that animals cannot know happiness because they do not have human level intelligence. Xtians will even justify this claim by saying they do not have souls and are therefore unable to perceive true joy and suffering. My question to these people is, you are not an animal so how do you know? How do you know that an animal is not perfectly content with its lot? Is human intelligence a prerequisite to being able to experience joy? I have seen house cats enjoying their siesta. They seem purrfectly happy enough!
The First Dog again. If it’s not happy, it will be soon enough, with all the good food, the cozy doghouse, and the doting of the First Family. Talk about living a dog’s life. I am sure some starving African would trade his good arm and thirty years of his existence just to live a day as that dog. I wonder how people who are living – pardon the pun, a dog’s life – must have felt when they watched the news last night.
'Where is the dog going to sleep Mr. President?’ asked an interviewer.
‘Well, not on my bed! That’s for certain.’ said Obama, ever the charming man.
Not on my bed. Some never even owned a bed in their entire lives, until they die and even then their bed is the mud, rocks, and earth of the grave.
The Dharma is wrong. The Sangha are deluded. The Buddha didn’t know better. There! I just insulted the Triple Jewels. A non-human animal in my next life? Or worst, a Singaporean?
Although I dislike dogs, I thought of how lucky that mutt is. That slobbering and boisterous creature will have the best of everything. While millions are losing their homes to foreclosure, with countless living below the poverty line, and 40% of the world’s population surviving on less than a dollar a day, First Dog will have everything money can buy. It makes me wonder if we have been wrong all this while, attributing special status to human life when so many humans are living worse than dogs.
In Buddhism, humans are ranked higher than animals on the reincarnation scale. It is a blessing, the result of good karma from previous lives that one is reborn as a human.
Siddhartha Gautama, the historic Buddha once took a pinch of sand and asked his disciple Ananda, ‘Can you count the sand in my hand?’
‘Yes, many,’ said Ananda.
‘Ananda, how many grains of sand are there in the world?’
‘Very very many,’ came the reply.
The Buddha then explained, ‘The sand in my hand represents the number who are fortunate enough to be born humans. Like all the sand in the world, it is but a tiny drop, insignificant compared to the myriad life forms in existence.’
This parable echoes the Buddhist view that human beings are truly blessed. First, they are sentient, intelligent and fully aware beings. Second, it is the easiest for them to hear and understand the Dharma. (Given that celestials, and in some versions asuras, are ranked above humans, this creates some controversy but we are not going into that today.)
If Buddhism is right and we are indeed blessed, why is there so much suffering in the world? Some people may be reincarnated as humans, but they never get the chance to lead perfectly normal and happy lives. Every day women are forced into prostitution, some are gang-raped at the age of seven and then stoned for their ‘offences’. Some humans are born deformed, diseased, crippled or retarded. By simply existing they bring pain to themselves and those who love them. Famine, drought, wars and genocides continue to make the lives of unfortunate humans who are caught up in them a living hell.
Even with the possibility of being able to hear the Dharma and therefore attain enlightenment, that does not imply (i) people will have access to the Buddha’s teachings (ii) in this Dharma Degenerate Age, the Dharma will not be corrupted (iii) people want to hear the Dharma. (iv) people who hear the Dharma will be enlightened. Indeed, when you are living rough in a Mexican town where everybody has to be a criminal to even make ends meet, who gives a damn about enlightenment? If trouble comes knocking on your door, you take out your AK 47 and blow them to bits. Enlightenment is irrelevant, and certainly no good if you and your family are slaughtered like pigs.
Contrast that to animals. True, animals suffer greatly as well. Farm animals are kept in inhumane conditions, their diets charged with steroids to fatten them, and in their prime they are slaughtered for food. In the wild, animals kill or be killed. There is no mercy to be had, no quarter given. While 99.99% of non-human animals lead arguably worse lives than human animals, one must realize that the existence of 0.01% who don’t, has slapped the Dharma in the face and is now asking to slap the other cheek as well.
Back to the Obama family’s dog. Will a Buddhist monk argue that that dog is not living a better life than some humans? What is the point of ‘rewarding’ a person for his good deeds in his previous lives with a human form if he dies of some contagion shortly after his birth? Wouldn’t he be happier if he were born a pedigree cat or dog instead? Being pampered for the rest of his life, never having to worry about this and that. He may only be a common beast, but unlike the supposedly ‘rewarded’ form, he gets to actually live.
People may think that animals cannot know happiness because they do not have human level intelligence. Xtians will even justify this claim by saying they do not have souls and are therefore unable to perceive true joy and suffering. My question to these people is, you are not an animal so how do you know? How do you know that an animal is not perfectly content with its lot? Is human intelligence a prerequisite to being able to experience joy? I have seen house cats enjoying their siesta. They seem purrfectly happy enough!
The First Dog again. If it’s not happy, it will be soon enough, with all the good food, the cozy doghouse, and the doting of the First Family. Talk about living a dog’s life. I am sure some starving African would trade his good arm and thirty years of his existence just to live a day as that dog. I wonder how people who are living – pardon the pun, a dog’s life – must have felt when they watched the news last night.
'Where is the dog going to sleep Mr. President?’ asked an interviewer.
‘Well, not on my bed! That’s for certain.’ said Obama, ever the charming man.
Not on my bed. Some never even owned a bed in their entire lives, until they die and even then their bed is the mud, rocks, and earth of the grave.
The Dharma is wrong. The Sangha are deluded. The Buddha didn’t know better. There! I just insulted the Triple Jewels. A non-human animal in my next life? Or worst, a Singaporean?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Stuck in Limbo, Roasted by Hellfire
My project group for Managerial Accounting was truly mediocre. Indeed, I was most privileged to be part of it. Seeing our discussion on Good Friday yielded no concrete results, we forced ourselves to attend what we knew to be an insipid Saturday lecture. O didn’t bother to turn up. He should have just told us straight that he was not interested. We would understand. In fact, I myself was more intrigued by the fairly buxom girl sitting in the far corner than I was in my lecturer’s Avram Grant impersonation.
After the lecture, my project mate S and I decided we would just fuck it and write whatever we could. I later discovered, to my chagrin, that the drafts for the essay questions I complied for my mates’ benefit returned to me in roughly their original state. I finished question 5, which was worth 10 marks in 600 words. One guy sent me several copies of question 6 (worth 25 marks) before settling on a final copy containing the same number of words. I spent my Sunday morning in a state of despair. I hurriedly corrected the grammar mistakes, elaborated on the points and added a few of my own. After 40 to 50 minutes of feverish typing I churned out another 500 words. It was rubbish, no doubt about it. Still, beggars can’t be choosers and I had had enough of the damn report. This Managerial Accounting case study must have been written by a maniac. The essay questions were worth 47 marks alone. I thought accounting was all about numbers. Obviously I was wrong.
I quickly sent my bullshit to my mates and asked them to proofread it. O remained unserviceable and uncontactable. S quickly compiled the report – he probably just glanced through my claptrap – and then sent the final report to us for our check-through. I took about thirty seconds to make sure all the answers were there. I gave him the go-ahead and there concluded our sorry partnership.
O couldn’t give a damn. S didn’t as well. I couldn’t be bothered as long as Avram Grant II didn’t give us less than 13.33% for the stupid assignment. I just need another 4 overall marks to hit the required 40% passing grade for the assignment component of the course. Even rag-and-bone men pay at least a few coins for trash yeah?
……………….....................................................................................................................................
The Liang brothers, a girl named Cassandra and I practised martial arts yesterday. We started with some basic hitting, but I didn’t get to punch for long. The scabs on my left knuckles broke and blood oozed. I had to stop and clean the wounds. The bleeding soon abated but I couldn’t punch left-handed, lest I dripped all over the floor. (I hope this does not turn into a once in a month thing.)
After the preliminary hitting segment, we split into pairs. Xiangrong and Cassandra discussed about how their master (ex-master now) and the school are doing. Their former instructor is now left with five students. Apparently the bloke could not retain his senior students. Being of the old school type, he refused to teach his students the actual martial applications of each form until they were deemed to be sufficiently proficient. As a result his senior students defected and he had to handle the teaching by himself without their assistance. The class dwindled and he now has to survive on his income as a hawker.
He may be Shaolin-trained, but the finest martial artists don’t always make good businessmen. Obviously martial art schools should include business modules in their curriculum. One cannot live on fists alone. Anyway, Cassandra’s defection is our gain. We always welcome new practice partners.
Xianghong and I discussed about our martial arts techniques. There are similarities between our styles, such as circular movements and leaping moves. In fact his style does not resemble a Southerner’s. Anyway, I showed him how to do the ‘fa’. This technique requires you to move your arms parallel to your body while keeping them in a straight line and then simultaneously push one hand out in front and your other hand towards the back, We also discussed about the whirlwind and leaping kicks and the techniques for executing them.
I gave him a few pointers on how to pass his standing broad jump. Going back for reservist training is already a waste of time. We don’t need to add remedial training (for failing the stupid annual IPPT) to the list of meaningless obligations we owe our *motherland*. I hope my friend will pass the damn test. One of my project mates has to go for remedial training every Thursday just because he failed by one chin up. All the trouble for one miserable chin-up! Hell. I would take the damn test for them if I could. I don’t think my friends deserve to waste their precious time and energy for this stupid cuntry.
Where was I? Oh yeah we had our final round of group practice before Cassandra and Xianghong left. Xiangrong and I continued our training by smacking each other with a variety of kicks, punches and elbows. I hate my side kick. It makes me look like a duck about to lay an egg. We also set the hitting pad against the wall and slammed our elbows into it, much to the disgust of the kids practising their dancing several yards away. We had to stop, not because we were mindful of their feelings, but for the fact that the wall was in danger of collapsing. The bottom side of the marble slab had moved half a centimetre inwards. This was not a testimony to our skills, but an indictment of the building contractor’s. (Why am I thinking of Nicole Highway as I am writing this?)
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
History was made tonight. Support for my Business Law II lecturer was overwhelming; the class was overfilled. Latecomers could not find a seat. My lecturer had to ask those who didn’t belong in his class to leave. Initially nobody moved. It was only when the bloke said that he would start to take class attendance that the ‘illegal immigrants’ began to find their good sense. And even then, he had to threaten the class a few times before more people took the threat seriously. It would have been easier if he had made good on his threat at the expense of ruining the class atmosphere. I certainly wouldn’t mind.
My university should sack the other Business Law II lecturers. It reflects badly on a lecturer when his students defect to another. If it had not been for the limited seats in the classroom, I suspect the illegal immigrants would have arrived en masse. While students generally like a lecturer who dispenses tips freely, the said situation was tragic and wretched. It truly brought out the ugliness in people. Seeing the lengths they went to just for a few assignment hints, one could hardly imagine what they would do if the stakes were much higher. I am a cynic, but even I feel disturbed. Intellectualizing about human nature is one thing. Experiencing it first-hand is a different animal altogether. Is it humans or just Singaporeans? I remember my Marketing lecturer, who is French, telling us that in Western countries people pay according to the amount of food they buy at the supermarkets. There are no weighing scales or price tags to compel them to do so; they – or most of them – don’t cheat.
After class my depression was exacerbated when my project mate P asked me if I could finish the remaining question. She said that her group mates for her Marketing module wrote rubbish and she had to do the whole project herself. (For all their incompetence, they have managed to survive into the third year. How…strange.) I replied I don’t mind helping out. The other girl is apparently too busy in her work. I think I am used to such things by now.
I continue to wonder if I am in the right course. Half the time I ended up as the proofreader for my groups. In maths-related modules I was usually the one tackling the essay/theory questions. This is ridiculous. What am I, an editor?
Writing a business essay is not difficult. Just make sure your points are valid, put them across in simple language and basically your job is done. Nobody is asking for fantastic vocabulary or style. This is a Business degree, not Shakespeare Appreciation 101. What is so damn terrifying about writing? I don’t mind doing it but it gets tiring after a while.Things are seriously wrong when some people don’t even deign to provide you with arguments and points for theory questions. They just look confused and expect answers to drop from the sky.
I understand that some people are terrible at writing. I don’t blame them because everybody has his strengths and weaknesses. As an ex-engineering student myself I know how we suck at putting thoughts to paper, and many of my peers were in engineering and IT. But would it kill anybody to think critically and exercise the creativity that Mother Nature had installed in them? If you don’t want to write, fine. Leave the ‘smoking’ to me. I can smoke my way out of nearly anything - but only if you give me sufficient ‘ammo’. I assume we want to end up in management because we are all suffering for the lousy degree. People in management like to talk cock and often come up with stupid ideas and suggestions. If you can’t even bullshit a little for a lousy assignment question, I suggest you quit the course now. The university also offers Engineering and Culinary courses. I am sure they don’t require bullshit, unlike Business.
And it seems that Business students are getting the short end of the stick. I have ranted about this and I am going to rant again. I don’t understand why in Tartarus we are overburdened with group and individual assignments, video presentations and online quizzes when the Art students (or whatever they are called in my university) just have to submit a few 2,000 word essays. The excruciating workload aside, their lecturers seem to be more lenient in their grading. XH said one guy in his class got a pass for producing maybe 500 words for a 2,000 word essay. And the average grade for his class is A. I might be wrong, but I don’t think the standards of our English Language students are that impressive. Best of all, they are allowed late submissions. We cannot even be a second late. Should we submit our assignment an hour before the 12pm deadline and can’t get it through due to the heavy traffic, it is OUR FAULT. Instant ZERO. No amount of begging, sobbing and pleading will get you anywhere. Okay maybe if your entire family got slaughtered they might make an exception. Otherwise ZERO.
Miss Sporty told me that she went through her Mass Communications degree in NTU on a part time basis. I felt fucked. Violated. Buggered. Raped. Cheated. Disenfranchised. Robbed. If I had known they offered a part time Mass Communications degree I would have robbed the fucking bank for it. Okay, I wouldn’t have to go to that extent. As NTU is regime-funded, I could pay my school fees using my CPF.
The reduced group work makes the course a mouth-watering prospect. Looking at my Business assignments, if I had to do my ‘smoking’ solo despite having a group, I might as well go for a course that often makes working alone compulsory. Not like there’s any difference.. Bloody Hell I don’t even think I need to do that accused video presentation! I would rather learn how to write a press release (more smoking!) than balance some goddamn accounts and wear a mask 24/7, backstab people and in general behave like an asshole without looking and smelling like one. Fuck the corporate world.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Our Good Friday meetup ended in abject disappointment. Only Xianghong and I turned up. JY suddenly had school work and Gabby was uncontactable. Most of whom we invited and/or messaged didn’t reply. So much for our first anniversary.
I am a bit disgusted. There are people who actually bother to sign up for an Atheist group, some of whom are apparently so delighted at finding Atheists around but when it comes to a meetup, won’t even bother to reply whether they are coming. If you are not coming, tell me straight. I am not forcing anyone at gun point and saves me a lot of trouble. It is no joking matter contacting 10, 20 people and then reminding them a few days earlier before the event of the time and date. There are people who have never replied. And they are as atheist as they go – or claim to be.
Instead of attending Good News Singapore, XH and I decided to walk to Geylang for dinner. It was a fitting response and a tribute to the cause of Atheism. After we had our fill of our overpriced slop we tried to do a video on GL. We didn’t manage to film anything because even without the whores around, the lookouts were quite protective of their territory. When XH took out his camera in front of Darlene Hotel, immediately the bloke standing behind us glared and moved towards us. I told XH to keep his camera.
The only action we saw was a raid. A crowd had gathered to watch a white van packed full with whores. A squat goblinoid of a police officer was driving the onlookers back, shouting imprecations as he did so. I peeked into the van and saw Indonesian whores. Good. They didn’t get the Chinese merchandise. There were a few other white vans around the corner, but they were empty. I hate the bloody fuzz. I wonder if Goblinoid would be so arrogant if he were without his badge. Maybe if I ever see him in another country…
I walked my friend around, explaining to him the selection of goods that could be found at each lorong. Without the actual merchandise present, my tutorage was quite a difficult one. I decided to bring XH to the fish tanks to supplement the education. There were only a few whores available in the few establishments we went into. With the streets emptied of ‘black market’ goods, the legitimate businesses enjoyed an increased revenue. An example of simple economics, supply and demand.
After that I decided to continue XH’s education in another part of Singapore: Bugis. On our way to the train station we saw an old man, shirtless, sleeping in a rubbish heap, with his head stuck in a particularly malodorous part of it. He was so still, so oblivious to the smell that I thought he was dead. This was a Uniquely Singapore sight. We have no beggars. Yeah right. I don’t even think that hoboes around the world – okay maybe in certain parts of Asia – live like this. I am dead certain no hobo in a first world country looks as wretched as Mr. Rubbish Heap here. It was a pity that in our jadedness we forgot to snap a few shots. Kodak moment.
In Bugis I showed XH where certain establishments could be found. The backstreets of Bugis were seedy yet vibrant, like GL but without the whores and cheap Indian and Bangladesh laborers. Groups of yuppies smoked Arabic weed in front of the shops. As we walked along the darkened streets we saw revelers enjoying their soiree. A percussion from an Indian shop or somesuch stirred our blood as we passed it. It was like we were in Sin City, albeit a much sleepier version of it.
The shopping centres I took my friend were empty husks of what they had been. Save for one KTV lounge, their male-oriented health industries were no more. Thanks to the bloody and sexless regime in this cuntry, a man can’t even get his rocks off. I hope the fools don’t keep their pretense of Confucian morality – I personally think that it would have been better for China and the Chinese if that hypocrite Confucius didn’t exist or were killed before he could utter his pedantic ejaculations – or else two things will happen. First, the sex crimes in this cuntry will escalate. Second, men will go to neighboring countries to stimulate their economies because the whores there are cheap and readily available. A country run like clockwork will fall like clockwork.
There wasn’t enough time for me to bring XH to a shopping mall which its ‘health industry’ is still left unmolested. Oh well. We will get the chance. Maybe we will organize an Atheist meetup for this exact purpose. Male bonding. I think we should be able to get some proper attendance.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I think being an Atheist sucks. Many of us love to laugh at theists being dumb and believing in all kinds of nonsense and doing all sorts of stupid shit like speaking in tongues and flagellating themselves in some religious-inspired masochism. Look at us! We cannot even get our own backyard in order and we are laughing at the people who can do it. If that is not shamelessness, I don’t know what it is.
I have evolved to a state where the question of whether Gawd exists has ceased to be of any relevance. If It ever existed, and exists still, It is unworthy of worship and therefore should be abolished. Why should It be worshipped, when It is merely a servant of He Who Is Greater? Why split the profits with the middle man?
On the other hand, if Gawd never existed, I would neither lose nor gain anything. Yet one cannot deny the power of organized mass delusion. They may be stupid, but they will crush the intelligentsia by their spit alone. Weak individually, strong collectively. And they are the exemplar of collectivism.
It has been said that herding Atheists is like herding cats. I think this statement is wrong. Not all cats are solitary as they seem. Lions live in prides, and even ‘solitary’ cats like cheetahs coordinate in a hunt. And all cats, regardless of size or temperament, fight ferociously when threatened. Atheists don’t deserve to be compared to cats. We couldn’t work together if our lives depended on it. And some of us are so docile they justify their cowardice and inertness with Kant, Nietzsche, the brain-in-the-jar theory, the eternal regression and other philosophies which they take great pleasure in regurgitating to order to show their ‘superior’ intellect and ‘vast’ learning and at the same time hide their deficiencies. Philosophy has been described in the textbooks as ‘thinking for the sake of thinking’. So where’re the applications? What’s the point of going ad nauseam about Hegel and the virtues of his philosophy when you can’t - or won’t – use what you learn?
For all their learning, intellectuals and their ilk the pseudo-intellectuals have failed miserably. They live so high in their ivory towers they are perpetually on cloud nine and never notice what happens on the ground. They only realize shit happens when the entire edifice collapses and they are on the ground with the philistines and unwashed masses they have derided as being inferior, uncouth and uneducated. Same applies to moderates and liberals. Oh we must be politically correct, we need more information, we can’t judge immediately, we must discuss in detail and lay everything out properly, Socrates said…yabba yabba abracadabra.
Not all Atheists are intellectuals (although many whom I met think themselves as such), but most are moderates and liberals. Atheists are stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. There, I said it four times. When XH and I wrote that ‘Atheism is an Abject Failure’ article, we (I actually got all the stick) were lambasted by a few atheists. If I may be shameless, it’s actually a brilliant article (the lousy English notwithstanding), as it highlights various points on why Atheists are pathetic compared to the theists. Apparently some people can’t handle the truth and instead of attacking my arguments, attacked me personally. Atheists are logical and relies on reasoning. Indeed.
Then there were Atheists who for some reason, do not wish to be associated with Atheism. They prefer to call themselves agnostics and freethinkers. Sadly, they don’t even know what agnosticism means. And from listening to them talk about their beliefs, it becomes apparent they are atheists. Agnostics are easily the worst of the lot. Those who actually know what agnosticism means like to demand that atheists prove ourselves to them that Gawd does not exist, rather than asking the theists to prove their case. It’s ridiculous! How in the Hells do you expect me to conjure out something out of nothing? Who am I now, David Copperfield? While we are at it, why don’t I also disprove the existence of myself (okay, we are back to that thrice-damned brain-in-the-thrice-damned jar argument again – Did I mention that agnostics tend to be intellectuals?) or prove that George W. Bush has an IQ of 200?
During our dinner at GL, XH made an astute observation: If one fine day we end up being prosecuted for being Atheists, we can safely bet that nobody will intervene on our behalf. Sad, but true. A Christian who sacrifices himself (let’s exclude terrorist acts in the name of religion here) is a martyr. The Christian community show their support openly. Fellow Christians will remember him with fondness and speak well of him. I wonder what will happen when Atheists are being persecuted and some atheist opens his mouth to protest. What will become of him then? “Oh it’s just another Dr. Chee, ignore the idiot lah. He’s just being stupid…” So my fellow infidels, atheists, agnostics, freethinkers, telly-tubby New-Agers or whatever you choose to call yourselves, it is you who are stupid. Not the Christians. Not the Muslims. Not the Hindus. Not the Taoists. Not the Buddhists. Not even the Teapot worshipers in Malaysia. There, I said it. I just spat on my own kind. Sorry, I mean ilk. So bite me.
Atheists and the other non-religious are even more myopic than the theists. The theists cannot see well, but at least they guide one another along. So many of us could not look beyond our oh-so sophisticated arguments to see that humans are never totally logical. We are more emotional and illogical than we would care to admit.
We don’t care for someone just because we agree with her intellectual arguments. We care because we like her. A couple don’t get married because they can connect purely on an intellectual level. Lust, love, affection, infatuation and other needs bring them together. Humans will always fight the hardest for people and causes they are most emotionally involved with. All ideologies and principles merely strengthen the emotional component and are not separate entities by themselves.
I will use a crass example here. What does a desperate, unwanted bloke really want? The best arguments that there is no kind and loving deity, and that he is on his own, or the feeling of being loved? I dare say many blokes become church-goers because for once in their miserable existence they feel wanted. Nobody wants to be lonely, as that Christina Aguilera feat. Ricky Martin song goes. What can you get for being just an atheist, the sole ubermensch amongst the apes? Destroying Christians in debates? Spending hours writing about how stupid religion is? Going to fellow Atheist blogs/sites and complimenting the writer in the secret hope that they will reciprocate and praise your ‘fantastic’ writing? While the desperate male I quoted is undoubtedly a pathetic specimen, but aren’t some Atheists as well? Both may be onanistic in nature, but at least the former actually knows he wants some girl to satisfy his needs.
As an infidel even I know that organized religion trumps organized Atheism (if there’s truly such a thing) any day. One cannot never underestimate the sense of communal kinship, the sense of love, care and justice, and the seemingly unadulterated affection members display that are found in religion. The shared values and common goal for its adherents. The collectivistic drive and focus. You know you have seem the best of slave management when the slaves actually enjoy it and defend their institutions with such fervor. Atheism only offers round after round of repeated philosophical discussions, barren intellectualism, zero goals, zero definition, zero this and then. It is purely NATO (No Action Talk Only) and in the end, when we are fucked we have only ourselves to blame. And we are so apathetic we won’t even bother!
Talking to some Atheists about the power of emotions versus intellectualism is a gut-wrenching exercise. No matter what I say I am always wrong. It is not Atheism’s fault, but my own. I am a loser and my failings does not reflect on secularism. It’s touché, touché and more touchés without reply. It’s like hitting a brick wall with a fencing foil. In the first place, why bother?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everton were held 3: 3 at Villa after leading twice by two goals. It had been a glorious opportunity to leapfrog Villa into fifth place but it was not to be. The high-scoring thriller was pleasing on the eye but stressing on the heart. We don’t usually concede three goals but on Sunday we switched off and paid the price. The ManUre stand between us and our first appearance in an FA Cup Final since 1996. The lads better tighten up at the back.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just found that my answer to Question 5 of my Managerial Accounting assignment was replaced by some Nobel Prize award winning material (Singapore Category). At 4am Monday morning, O made a miraculous recovery from his illness and the effect was for all to see. After reading it I immediately felt I was put in my place. Right now I feel suicidal and the compulsion to quit my Business degree course grows even stronger.
I didn’t even receive an sms informing me of the amendment. And who checks his email at four in the morning?! If I had known this would happen I would not have wasted an hour of my precious time doing the damn question! It’s not like I am pissed off because my hard work got rejected. If O’s rubbish were better than mine, I would have gladly taken his answer. But when it’s the opposite way round it just makes me feel like I am fucked for no good reason.
I wish I could put it up for your amusement but the plagiarism program the University uses will pick it up. I have enough on my plate already. I see no point in inflicting more pain on myself. There is only so much a man can take.
After the lecture, my project mate S and I decided we would just fuck it and write whatever we could. I later discovered, to my chagrin, that the drafts for the essay questions I complied for my mates’ benefit returned to me in roughly their original state. I finished question 5, which was worth 10 marks in 600 words. One guy sent me several copies of question 6 (worth 25 marks) before settling on a final copy containing the same number of words. I spent my Sunday morning in a state of despair. I hurriedly corrected the grammar mistakes, elaborated on the points and added a few of my own. After 40 to 50 minutes of feverish typing I churned out another 500 words. It was rubbish, no doubt about it. Still, beggars can’t be choosers and I had had enough of the damn report. This Managerial Accounting case study must have been written by a maniac. The essay questions were worth 47 marks alone. I thought accounting was all about numbers. Obviously I was wrong.
I quickly sent my bullshit to my mates and asked them to proofread it. O remained unserviceable and uncontactable. S quickly compiled the report – he probably just glanced through my claptrap – and then sent the final report to us for our check-through. I took about thirty seconds to make sure all the answers were there. I gave him the go-ahead and there concluded our sorry partnership.
O couldn’t give a damn. S didn’t as well. I couldn’t be bothered as long as Avram Grant II didn’t give us less than 13.33% for the stupid assignment. I just need another 4 overall marks to hit the required 40% passing grade for the assignment component of the course. Even rag-and-bone men pay at least a few coins for trash yeah?
……………….....................................................................................................................................
The Liang brothers, a girl named Cassandra and I practised martial arts yesterday. We started with some basic hitting, but I didn’t get to punch for long. The scabs on my left knuckles broke and blood oozed. I had to stop and clean the wounds. The bleeding soon abated but I couldn’t punch left-handed, lest I dripped all over the floor. (I hope this does not turn into a once in a month thing.)
After the preliminary hitting segment, we split into pairs. Xiangrong and Cassandra discussed about how their master (ex-master now) and the school are doing. Their former instructor is now left with five students. Apparently the bloke could not retain his senior students. Being of the old school type, he refused to teach his students the actual martial applications of each form until they were deemed to be sufficiently proficient. As a result his senior students defected and he had to handle the teaching by himself without their assistance. The class dwindled and he now has to survive on his income as a hawker.
He may be Shaolin-trained, but the finest martial artists don’t always make good businessmen. Obviously martial art schools should include business modules in their curriculum. One cannot live on fists alone. Anyway, Cassandra’s defection is our gain. We always welcome new practice partners.
Xianghong and I discussed about our martial arts techniques. There are similarities between our styles, such as circular movements and leaping moves. In fact his style does not resemble a Southerner’s. Anyway, I showed him how to do the ‘fa’. This technique requires you to move your arms parallel to your body while keeping them in a straight line and then simultaneously push one hand out in front and your other hand towards the back, We also discussed about the whirlwind and leaping kicks and the techniques for executing them.
I gave him a few pointers on how to pass his standing broad jump. Going back for reservist training is already a waste of time. We don’t need to add remedial training (for failing the stupid annual IPPT) to the list of meaningless obligations we owe our *motherland*. I hope my friend will pass the damn test. One of my project mates has to go for remedial training every Thursday just because he failed by one chin up. All the trouble for one miserable chin-up! Hell. I would take the damn test for them if I could. I don’t think my friends deserve to waste their precious time and energy for this stupid cuntry.
Where was I? Oh yeah we had our final round of group practice before Cassandra and Xianghong left. Xiangrong and I continued our training by smacking each other with a variety of kicks, punches and elbows. I hate my side kick. It makes me look like a duck about to lay an egg. We also set the hitting pad against the wall and slammed our elbows into it, much to the disgust of the kids practising their dancing several yards away. We had to stop, not because we were mindful of their feelings, but for the fact that the wall was in danger of collapsing. The bottom side of the marble slab had moved half a centimetre inwards. This was not a testimony to our skills, but an indictment of the building contractor’s. (Why am I thinking of Nicole Highway as I am writing this?)
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
History was made tonight. Support for my Business Law II lecturer was overwhelming; the class was overfilled. Latecomers could not find a seat. My lecturer had to ask those who didn’t belong in his class to leave. Initially nobody moved. It was only when the bloke said that he would start to take class attendance that the ‘illegal immigrants’ began to find their good sense. And even then, he had to threaten the class a few times before more people took the threat seriously. It would have been easier if he had made good on his threat at the expense of ruining the class atmosphere. I certainly wouldn’t mind.
My university should sack the other Business Law II lecturers. It reflects badly on a lecturer when his students defect to another. If it had not been for the limited seats in the classroom, I suspect the illegal immigrants would have arrived en masse. While students generally like a lecturer who dispenses tips freely, the said situation was tragic and wretched. It truly brought out the ugliness in people. Seeing the lengths they went to just for a few assignment hints, one could hardly imagine what they would do if the stakes were much higher. I am a cynic, but even I feel disturbed. Intellectualizing about human nature is one thing. Experiencing it first-hand is a different animal altogether. Is it humans or just Singaporeans? I remember my Marketing lecturer, who is French, telling us that in Western countries people pay according to the amount of food they buy at the supermarkets. There are no weighing scales or price tags to compel them to do so; they – or most of them – don’t cheat.
After class my depression was exacerbated when my project mate P asked me if I could finish the remaining question. She said that her group mates for her Marketing module wrote rubbish and she had to do the whole project herself. (For all their incompetence, they have managed to survive into the third year. How…strange.) I replied I don’t mind helping out. The other girl is apparently too busy in her work. I think I am used to such things by now.
I continue to wonder if I am in the right course. Half the time I ended up as the proofreader for my groups. In maths-related modules I was usually the one tackling the essay/theory questions. This is ridiculous. What am I, an editor?
Writing a business essay is not difficult. Just make sure your points are valid, put them across in simple language and basically your job is done. Nobody is asking for fantastic vocabulary or style. This is a Business degree, not Shakespeare Appreciation 101. What is so damn terrifying about writing? I don’t mind doing it but it gets tiring after a while.Things are seriously wrong when some people don’t even deign to provide you with arguments and points for theory questions. They just look confused and expect answers to drop from the sky.
I understand that some people are terrible at writing. I don’t blame them because everybody has his strengths and weaknesses. As an ex-engineering student myself I know how we suck at putting thoughts to paper, and many of my peers were in engineering and IT. But would it kill anybody to think critically and exercise the creativity that Mother Nature had installed in them? If you don’t want to write, fine. Leave the ‘smoking’ to me. I can smoke my way out of nearly anything - but only if you give me sufficient ‘ammo’. I assume we want to end up in management because we are all suffering for the lousy degree. People in management like to talk cock and often come up with stupid ideas and suggestions. If you can’t even bullshit a little for a lousy assignment question, I suggest you quit the course now. The university also offers Engineering and Culinary courses. I am sure they don’t require bullshit, unlike Business.
And it seems that Business students are getting the short end of the stick. I have ranted about this and I am going to rant again. I don’t understand why in Tartarus we are overburdened with group and individual assignments, video presentations and online quizzes when the Art students (or whatever they are called in my university) just have to submit a few 2,000 word essays. The excruciating workload aside, their lecturers seem to be more lenient in their grading. XH said one guy in his class got a pass for producing maybe 500 words for a 2,000 word essay. And the average grade for his class is A. I might be wrong, but I don’t think the standards of our English Language students are that impressive. Best of all, they are allowed late submissions. We cannot even be a second late. Should we submit our assignment an hour before the 12pm deadline and can’t get it through due to the heavy traffic, it is OUR FAULT. Instant ZERO. No amount of begging, sobbing and pleading will get you anywhere. Okay maybe if your entire family got slaughtered they might make an exception. Otherwise ZERO.
Miss Sporty told me that she went through her Mass Communications degree in NTU on a part time basis. I felt fucked. Violated. Buggered. Raped. Cheated. Disenfranchised. Robbed. If I had known they offered a part time Mass Communications degree I would have robbed the fucking bank for it. Okay, I wouldn’t have to go to that extent. As NTU is regime-funded, I could pay my school fees using my CPF.
The reduced group work makes the course a mouth-watering prospect. Looking at my Business assignments, if I had to do my ‘smoking’ solo despite having a group, I might as well go for a course that often makes working alone compulsory. Not like there’s any difference.. Bloody Hell I don’t even think I need to do that accused video presentation! I would rather learn how to write a press release (more smoking!) than balance some goddamn accounts and wear a mask 24/7, backstab people and in general behave like an asshole without looking and smelling like one. Fuck the corporate world.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Our Good Friday meetup ended in abject disappointment. Only Xianghong and I turned up. JY suddenly had school work and Gabby was uncontactable. Most of whom we invited and/or messaged didn’t reply. So much for our first anniversary.
I am a bit disgusted. There are people who actually bother to sign up for an Atheist group, some of whom are apparently so delighted at finding Atheists around but when it comes to a meetup, won’t even bother to reply whether they are coming. If you are not coming, tell me straight. I am not forcing anyone at gun point and saves me a lot of trouble. It is no joking matter contacting 10, 20 people and then reminding them a few days earlier before the event of the time and date. There are people who have never replied. And they are as atheist as they go – or claim to be.
Instead of attending Good News Singapore, XH and I decided to walk to Geylang for dinner. It was a fitting response and a tribute to the cause of Atheism. After we had our fill of our overpriced slop we tried to do a video on GL. We didn’t manage to film anything because even without the whores around, the lookouts were quite protective of their territory. When XH took out his camera in front of Darlene Hotel, immediately the bloke standing behind us glared and moved towards us. I told XH to keep his camera.
The only action we saw was a raid. A crowd had gathered to watch a white van packed full with whores. A squat goblinoid of a police officer was driving the onlookers back, shouting imprecations as he did so. I peeked into the van and saw Indonesian whores. Good. They didn’t get the Chinese merchandise. There were a few other white vans around the corner, but they were empty. I hate the bloody fuzz. I wonder if Goblinoid would be so arrogant if he were without his badge. Maybe if I ever see him in another country…
I walked my friend around, explaining to him the selection of goods that could be found at each lorong. Without the actual merchandise present, my tutorage was quite a difficult one. I decided to bring XH to the fish tanks to supplement the education. There were only a few whores available in the few establishments we went into. With the streets emptied of ‘black market’ goods, the legitimate businesses enjoyed an increased revenue. An example of simple economics, supply and demand.
After that I decided to continue XH’s education in another part of Singapore: Bugis. On our way to the train station we saw an old man, shirtless, sleeping in a rubbish heap, with his head stuck in a particularly malodorous part of it. He was so still, so oblivious to the smell that I thought he was dead. This was a Uniquely Singapore sight. We have no beggars. Yeah right. I don’t even think that hoboes around the world – okay maybe in certain parts of Asia – live like this. I am dead certain no hobo in a first world country looks as wretched as Mr. Rubbish Heap here. It was a pity that in our jadedness we forgot to snap a few shots. Kodak moment.
In Bugis I showed XH where certain establishments could be found. The backstreets of Bugis were seedy yet vibrant, like GL but without the whores and cheap Indian and Bangladesh laborers. Groups of yuppies smoked Arabic weed in front of the shops. As we walked along the darkened streets we saw revelers enjoying their soiree. A percussion from an Indian shop or somesuch stirred our blood as we passed it. It was like we were in Sin City, albeit a much sleepier version of it.
The shopping centres I took my friend were empty husks of what they had been. Save for one KTV lounge, their male-oriented health industries were no more. Thanks to the bloody and sexless regime in this cuntry, a man can’t even get his rocks off. I hope the fools don’t keep their pretense of Confucian morality – I personally think that it would have been better for China and the Chinese if that hypocrite Confucius didn’t exist or were killed before he could utter his pedantic ejaculations – or else two things will happen. First, the sex crimes in this cuntry will escalate. Second, men will go to neighboring countries to stimulate their economies because the whores there are cheap and readily available. A country run like clockwork will fall like clockwork.
There wasn’t enough time for me to bring XH to a shopping mall which its ‘health industry’ is still left unmolested. Oh well. We will get the chance. Maybe we will organize an Atheist meetup for this exact purpose. Male bonding. I think we should be able to get some proper attendance.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I think being an Atheist sucks. Many of us love to laugh at theists being dumb and believing in all kinds of nonsense and doing all sorts of stupid shit like speaking in tongues and flagellating themselves in some religious-inspired masochism. Look at us! We cannot even get our own backyard in order and we are laughing at the people who can do it. If that is not shamelessness, I don’t know what it is.
I have evolved to a state where the question of whether Gawd exists has ceased to be of any relevance. If It ever existed, and exists still, It is unworthy of worship and therefore should be abolished. Why should It be worshipped, when It is merely a servant of He Who Is Greater? Why split the profits with the middle man?
On the other hand, if Gawd never existed, I would neither lose nor gain anything. Yet one cannot deny the power of organized mass delusion. They may be stupid, but they will crush the intelligentsia by their spit alone. Weak individually, strong collectively. And they are the exemplar of collectivism.
It has been said that herding Atheists is like herding cats. I think this statement is wrong. Not all cats are solitary as they seem. Lions live in prides, and even ‘solitary’ cats like cheetahs coordinate in a hunt. And all cats, regardless of size or temperament, fight ferociously when threatened. Atheists don’t deserve to be compared to cats. We couldn’t work together if our lives depended on it. And some of us are so docile they justify their cowardice and inertness with Kant, Nietzsche, the brain-in-the-jar theory, the eternal regression and other philosophies which they take great pleasure in regurgitating to order to show their ‘superior’ intellect and ‘vast’ learning and at the same time hide their deficiencies. Philosophy has been described in the textbooks as ‘thinking for the sake of thinking’. So where’re the applications? What’s the point of going ad nauseam about Hegel and the virtues of his philosophy when you can’t - or won’t – use what you learn?
For all their learning, intellectuals and their ilk the pseudo-intellectuals have failed miserably. They live so high in their ivory towers they are perpetually on cloud nine and never notice what happens on the ground. They only realize shit happens when the entire edifice collapses and they are on the ground with the philistines and unwashed masses they have derided as being inferior, uncouth and uneducated. Same applies to moderates and liberals. Oh we must be politically correct, we need more information, we can’t judge immediately, we must discuss in detail and lay everything out properly, Socrates said…yabba yabba abracadabra.
Not all Atheists are intellectuals (although many whom I met think themselves as such), but most are moderates and liberals. Atheists are stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. There, I said it four times. When XH and I wrote that ‘Atheism is an Abject Failure’ article, we (I actually got all the stick) were lambasted by a few atheists. If I may be shameless, it’s actually a brilliant article (the lousy English notwithstanding), as it highlights various points on why Atheists are pathetic compared to the theists. Apparently some people can’t handle the truth and instead of attacking my arguments, attacked me personally. Atheists are logical and relies on reasoning. Indeed.
Then there were Atheists who for some reason, do not wish to be associated with Atheism. They prefer to call themselves agnostics and freethinkers. Sadly, they don’t even know what agnosticism means. And from listening to them talk about their beliefs, it becomes apparent they are atheists. Agnostics are easily the worst of the lot. Those who actually know what agnosticism means like to demand that atheists prove ourselves to them that Gawd does not exist, rather than asking the theists to prove their case. It’s ridiculous! How in the Hells do you expect me to conjure out something out of nothing? Who am I now, David Copperfield? While we are at it, why don’t I also disprove the existence of myself (okay, we are back to that thrice-damned brain-in-the-thrice-damned jar argument again – Did I mention that agnostics tend to be intellectuals?) or prove that George W. Bush has an IQ of 200?
During our dinner at GL, XH made an astute observation: If one fine day we end up being prosecuted for being Atheists, we can safely bet that nobody will intervene on our behalf. Sad, but true. A Christian who sacrifices himself (let’s exclude terrorist acts in the name of religion here) is a martyr. The Christian community show their support openly. Fellow Christians will remember him with fondness and speak well of him. I wonder what will happen when Atheists are being persecuted and some atheist opens his mouth to protest. What will become of him then? “Oh it’s just another Dr. Chee, ignore the idiot lah. He’s just being stupid…” So my fellow infidels, atheists, agnostics, freethinkers, telly-tubby New-Agers or whatever you choose to call yourselves, it is you who are stupid. Not the Christians. Not the Muslims. Not the Hindus. Not the Taoists. Not the Buddhists. Not even the Teapot worshipers in Malaysia. There, I said it. I just spat on my own kind. Sorry, I mean ilk. So bite me.
Atheists and the other non-religious are even more myopic than the theists. The theists cannot see well, but at least they guide one another along. So many of us could not look beyond our oh-so sophisticated arguments to see that humans are never totally logical. We are more emotional and illogical than we would care to admit.
We don’t care for someone just because we agree with her intellectual arguments. We care because we like her. A couple don’t get married because they can connect purely on an intellectual level. Lust, love, affection, infatuation and other needs bring them together. Humans will always fight the hardest for people and causes they are most emotionally involved with. All ideologies and principles merely strengthen the emotional component and are not separate entities by themselves.
I will use a crass example here. What does a desperate, unwanted bloke really want? The best arguments that there is no kind and loving deity, and that he is on his own, or the feeling of being loved? I dare say many blokes become church-goers because for once in their miserable existence they feel wanted. Nobody wants to be lonely, as that Christina Aguilera feat. Ricky Martin song goes. What can you get for being just an atheist, the sole ubermensch amongst the apes? Destroying Christians in debates? Spending hours writing about how stupid religion is? Going to fellow Atheist blogs/sites and complimenting the writer in the secret hope that they will reciprocate and praise your ‘fantastic’ writing? While the desperate male I quoted is undoubtedly a pathetic specimen, but aren’t some Atheists as well? Both may be onanistic in nature, but at least the former actually knows he wants some girl to satisfy his needs.
As an infidel even I know that organized religion trumps organized Atheism (if there’s truly such a thing) any day. One cannot never underestimate the sense of communal kinship, the sense of love, care and justice, and the seemingly unadulterated affection members display that are found in religion. The shared values and common goal for its adherents. The collectivistic drive and focus. You know you have seem the best of slave management when the slaves actually enjoy it and defend their institutions with such fervor. Atheism only offers round after round of repeated philosophical discussions, barren intellectualism, zero goals, zero definition, zero this and then. It is purely NATO (No Action Talk Only) and in the end, when we are fucked we have only ourselves to blame. And we are so apathetic we won’t even bother!
Talking to some Atheists about the power of emotions versus intellectualism is a gut-wrenching exercise. No matter what I say I am always wrong. It is not Atheism’s fault, but my own. I am a loser and my failings does not reflect on secularism. It’s touché, touché and more touchés without reply. It’s like hitting a brick wall with a fencing foil. In the first place, why bother?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everton were held 3: 3 at Villa after leading twice by two goals. It had been a glorious opportunity to leapfrog Villa into fifth place but it was not to be. The high-scoring thriller was pleasing on the eye but stressing on the heart. We don’t usually concede three goals but on Sunday we switched off and paid the price. The ManUre stand between us and our first appearance in an FA Cup Final since 1996. The lads better tighten up at the back.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just found that my answer to Question 5 of my Managerial Accounting assignment was replaced by some Nobel Prize award winning material (Singapore Category). At 4am Monday morning, O made a miraculous recovery from his illness and the effect was for all to see. After reading it I immediately felt I was put in my place. Right now I feel suicidal and the compulsion to quit my Business degree course grows even stronger.
I didn’t even receive an sms informing me of the amendment. And who checks his email at four in the morning?! If I had known this would happen I would not have wasted an hour of my precious time doing the damn question! It’s not like I am pissed off because my hard work got rejected. If O’s rubbish were better than mine, I would have gladly taken his answer. But when it’s the opposite way round it just makes me feel like I am fucked for no good reason.
I wish I could put it up for your amusement but the plagiarism program the University uses will pick it up. I have enough on my plate already. I see no point in inflicting more pain on myself. There is only so much a man can take.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
It's a Funny Old Game.
The football results are better than what I expected. After 14 months and 32 matches unbeaten at home the Shite were murdered 3:1 by Chelski. This splendid and uplifting result means that the Shite will need to score at least three times and win by two clear goals to go through. A similar scoreline in their favor takes the tie to extra time. Will Stamford Bridge come falling down like London Bridge? Fat chance.
While you are at it, put trash where it belongs.
Barcelona cemented their place in the semis by annihilating Bayern Munich. But for some wasteful finishing the score line should have been much worse than the 4:0 debacle the Germans suffered. The return leg should be a formality. Barca can afford to lose by three goals – which they won’t.
A day earlier, FC Porto showed that the World and European champions ManUre are a grossly overrated side. Led by a striker nicknamed the Hulk, the 2004 Champions League winners pulverized the 2008 winners on their own ground. Only profligate finishing and a horrendous defensive lapse threw ManUre a lifeline. Now the Red Devils have to become the first side to slay the Dragons at the Dragon. And they have to content with the Hulk too.
After being played off the park at Villarreal, the Arse were in danger of being torpedoed by the Yellow Submarines. However, a spectacular goal by Adebayor cancelled out an early 25 metre missile from the home side. Now it’s to the Emirates. Advantage Arsenal. Will the Cannons sink the Submarines? Stay tuned.
Back to the English Premiership. Everton whitewashed Wigan 4:0 last Saturday and will attempt to achieve a positive result at Villa Park on Sunday. While a similar scoreline seems impossible, Moyes will no doubt be telling his lads – to borrow a famous Anarchist slogan – to demand the impossible. The Villains’ recent form is so wretched that they remind one of Newcastle, but for the different strip. After leading 2:1 at Old Trafford they let in an equaliser in the last ten minutes and conceded the winner in injury time. Given the Sunday encounter between the two sides is a six-pointer which may well decide who gets fifth and sixth, the Blues might as well go for it. The Shite disgraced the ManUre 4:1 in their own backyard. We can do the same to the Vanilla Milkshakes on theirs.
The Barcode Army has had their share of Messiahs over the years. Kevin ‘I’d luv it if we beat ‘em’ Keegan, charming old salt Bobby Robson, hopelessly inept Graeme Sourness, foul-mouthed Joe Kinnear of the Crazy Gang fame and the world record holder of using the most number of the word ‘fuck’ in a press interview, had tried and failed to lead the ‘Best Club in the World’ (sniggers) to where they belong (the exact location is still a source of great academic debate in the pubs of Tyneside.) Now, Mr. Premiership Alan Shearer has signed on to make sure they don’t end up in the First Division next season.
They take their football seriously in those parts.
The drama at Newcastle just doesn’t get any better. Club owner Mike Ashley, a target for vitriol in recent months has seemingly pulled a rabbit of out of the hat by installing the Premiership’s best ever goal scorer and local hero to try to save a team of jokers mired in the relegation battle. Upon his installation, Shearer’s stature immediately grew to even more majestic proportions when he got rid of the much hated Dennis Wise who was earning an astronomical amount at his post of Director of football (whatever that is), and forced the reviled owner Mike [insert your expletive] Ashley to clear the air.
Despite a home defeat by Chelski, Shearer remains hopeful. ‘We are not playing Chelsea every week,’ is the best post-defeat motivation speech I have heard in a long while. (The next time my Sunday league football team lose I’m going to say the same thing.) Shearer has seven games left to save the Barcode Army. They next play fellow relegation candidates Stoke City. It’s a six-pointer and neither side can afford any slip-ups. Stoke City’s agricultural brand of football – enter the human sling Rory Delap – will provide a bruising examination of the Barcode Army’s flimsy defence. When the Black and White get battered black and blue, what will Shearer say? ‘We are not playing Stoke City every week’?
Indeed, Newcastle will not be playing Premiership football every week very soon. I like Shearer; I grew up watching him score goals for fun. As a player he has an exemplary resume, but in his first - and possibly last – experience as manager, the black mark of relegation on his managerial credentials will be indelible.
What Newcastle really need: players like this.
While you are at it, put trash where it belongs.Barcelona cemented their place in the semis by annihilating Bayern Munich. But for some wasteful finishing the score line should have been much worse than the 4:0 debacle the Germans suffered. The return leg should be a formality. Barca can afford to lose by three goals – which they won’t.
A day earlier, FC Porto showed that the World and European champions ManUre are a grossly overrated side. Led by a striker nicknamed the Hulk, the 2004 Champions League winners pulverized the 2008 winners on their own ground. Only profligate finishing and a horrendous defensive lapse threw ManUre a lifeline. Now the Red Devils have to become the first side to slay the Dragons at the Dragon. And they have to content with the Hulk too.
After being played off the park at Villarreal, the Arse were in danger of being torpedoed by the Yellow Submarines. However, a spectacular goal by Adebayor cancelled out an early 25 metre missile from the home side. Now it’s to the Emirates. Advantage Arsenal. Will the Cannons sink the Submarines? Stay tuned.
Back to the English Premiership. Everton whitewashed Wigan 4:0 last Saturday and will attempt to achieve a positive result at Villa Park on Sunday. While a similar scoreline seems impossible, Moyes will no doubt be telling his lads – to borrow a famous Anarchist slogan – to demand the impossible. The Villains’ recent form is so wretched that they remind one of Newcastle, but for the different strip. After leading 2:1 at Old Trafford they let in an equaliser in the last ten minutes and conceded the winner in injury time. Given the Sunday encounter between the two sides is a six-pointer which may well decide who gets fifth and sixth, the Blues might as well go for it. The Shite disgraced the ManUre 4:1 in their own backyard. We can do the same to the Vanilla Milkshakes on theirs.
The Barcode Army has had their share of Messiahs over the years. Kevin ‘I’d luv it if we beat ‘em’ Keegan, charming old salt Bobby Robson, hopelessly inept Graeme Sourness, foul-mouthed Joe Kinnear of the Crazy Gang fame and the world record holder of using the most number of the word ‘fuck’ in a press interview, had tried and failed to lead the ‘Best Club in the World’ (sniggers) to where they belong (the exact location is still a source of great academic debate in the pubs of Tyneside.) Now, Mr. Premiership Alan Shearer has signed on to make sure they don’t end up in the First Division next season.
They take their football seriously in those parts.The drama at Newcastle just doesn’t get any better. Club owner Mike Ashley, a target for vitriol in recent months has seemingly pulled a rabbit of out of the hat by installing the Premiership’s best ever goal scorer and local hero to try to save a team of jokers mired in the relegation battle. Upon his installation, Shearer’s stature immediately grew to even more majestic proportions when he got rid of the much hated Dennis Wise who was earning an astronomical amount at his post of Director of football (whatever that is), and forced the reviled owner Mike [insert your expletive] Ashley to clear the air.
Despite a home defeat by Chelski, Shearer remains hopeful. ‘We are not playing Chelsea every week,’ is the best post-defeat motivation speech I have heard in a long while. (The next time my Sunday league football team lose I’m going to say the same thing.) Shearer has seven games left to save the Barcode Army. They next play fellow relegation candidates Stoke City. It’s a six-pointer and neither side can afford any slip-ups. Stoke City’s agricultural brand of football – enter the human sling Rory Delap – will provide a bruising examination of the Barcode Army’s flimsy defence. When the Black and White get battered black and blue, what will Shearer say? ‘We are not playing Stoke City every week’?
Indeed, Newcastle will not be playing Premiership football every week very soon. I like Shearer; I grew up watching him score goals for fun. As a player he has an exemplary resume, but in his first - and possibly last – experience as manager, the black mark of relegation on his managerial credentials will be indelible.
What Newcastle really need: players like this.Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Sunday Ecstasy
Our martial arts practice last Sunday was enjoyable to say the least.
Baiqi (BQ), Xiangrong (XR), Ken, Xinyao (I’ll be cheeky and call her Miss Sporty) and I met at the entrance to the Esplanade. There we walked to Liang Seng where we did our shopping. Between themselves BQ and XR bought three punching pads, one big, the other two smaller. I feel like getting a sword and a staff, but could see no conceivable way to cart them home without being questioned by the security in the train station.
Having made our purchases, we went to the Esplanade atrium. The place was a bit crowded. As usual the arty farty people did their hip-hop dancing; we stayed clear of them. Obviously yoga has become quite popular. We saw quite a few people lying next to the wall, engaged in variations of the classic ‘corpse’ posture. Fortunately we managed to find a space and soon got into practice proper.
As we were still unused to holding the hitting pads, we spent the first twenty minutes or so experimenting with various ways of holding them. For some reason I just could not hold the damn thing without having it flip about when I got ‘hit’. Anyway, we started off executing turning kicks, taking turns to be the defender. I have not kicked a pad since I took unarmed combat in the army and it took a while to get used to it. On the whole we were quite okay with the front kicks and turning kicks. Ken and BQ were quite good; I think their Tae kwon Do background prepared them better for throwing turning kicks. XR and I were reasonably okay (traditional Chinese martial arts do not focus on turning kicks but that is a story for another day.) My left foot sucked through – I think footballers tend to end up predominantly one-footed.
Anyway, we got Miss Sporty to try and I think she is an absolute talent. She picked up the technique pretty fast and for a petite girl she certainly hit harder than one would expect. (Again, this is a reminder for me not to piss off a woman. But still, I like to tease ‘em….) We did a few side kicks, more for fun than anything else – my side kick sucked as well.
Oh well, my death wish aside, we also tried some basic punching and blocking moves. While Ken and BQ attacked each other, XR taught Miss Sporty and I the taiji way of evading an attack. I had a hard time getting used to it. I was taught the ‘hard-style’ method, which relies on speed and power, whereas taiji is softer and more technical in its application. It was quite interesting through.
We continued to do more punching and kicking. We also leaped and did jumping kicks. Ken had to leave early while Miss Sporty stayed longer. We blokes who remained continued to kick and punch and execute elbow strikes while Miss Sunshine watched us, possibly with some amusement, at the new age Neanderthals hacking away at one another. Prior to her arrival she had been cycling for five hours in East Coast Park. What a powerful woman! I think I may not look it, but I am also quite powerful. I played a football game before the training. I think I am a ‘strongling’ (a strongling is a strong weakling). XR and BQ are also powerful, pausing only occasionally in the training.
I think I am babbling now. I have just completed my Business Law question, and as we speak, am being eaten alive by mosquitoes that seem immune to my insecticide and fly unseen like goddamn Stealth Fighters. Don't mind me. I'm delirious.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yea, the powerful thing. Miss Sporty left around six - she was exhausted – leaving BQ, XR and I to our (torturous) devices. Each of us completed the following masochistic acts: 100 elbow strikes (50 for each side) and 50 turning kicks (using our left foot). We also timed ourselves to see how many punches and turning kicks (right-footed) we could execute in a minute. We could barely lift our legs to kick the pad and our waist was sore the act of bending over for the chambering. And air! We were practically gasping for air! BQ and I felt a slight headache from the impact. My right wrist is still a bit swollen from the blocking and the knuckles on my left hand is bruised. The little abrasions are a bit wet. My right hand is less sore but I can still write with either hand.
It was an excruciating exercise but I thoroughly relished it. We agreed unanimously that if we could keep this up week in week out we would be extremely fit.
On our way to the nearby food centre the three of us discussed about the martial arts. We didn’t really feel like eating when we got there, despite the good food; we were dehydrated – no, desiccated - from our exertions. I hope Xianghong, Cassandra and Miss Sporty can join us this Sunday. It would be smashing! Literally.
Baiqi (BQ), Xiangrong (XR), Ken, Xinyao (I’ll be cheeky and call her Miss Sporty) and I met at the entrance to the Esplanade. There we walked to Liang Seng where we did our shopping. Between themselves BQ and XR bought three punching pads, one big, the other two smaller. I feel like getting a sword and a staff, but could see no conceivable way to cart them home without being questioned by the security in the train station.
Having made our purchases, we went to the Esplanade atrium. The place was a bit crowded. As usual the arty farty people did their hip-hop dancing; we stayed clear of them. Obviously yoga has become quite popular. We saw quite a few people lying next to the wall, engaged in variations of the classic ‘corpse’ posture. Fortunately we managed to find a space and soon got into practice proper.
As we were still unused to holding the hitting pads, we spent the first twenty minutes or so experimenting with various ways of holding them. For some reason I just could not hold the damn thing without having it flip about when I got ‘hit’. Anyway, we started off executing turning kicks, taking turns to be the defender. I have not kicked a pad since I took unarmed combat in the army and it took a while to get used to it. On the whole we were quite okay with the front kicks and turning kicks. Ken and BQ were quite good; I think their Tae kwon Do background prepared them better for throwing turning kicks. XR and I were reasonably okay (traditional Chinese martial arts do not focus on turning kicks but that is a story for another day.) My left foot sucked through – I think footballers tend to end up predominantly one-footed.
Anyway, we got Miss Sporty to try and I think she is an absolute talent. She picked up the technique pretty fast and for a petite girl she certainly hit harder than one would expect. (Again, this is a reminder for me not to piss off a woman. But still, I like to tease ‘em….) We did a few side kicks, more for fun than anything else – my side kick sucked as well.
Oh well, my death wish aside, we also tried some basic punching and blocking moves. While Ken and BQ attacked each other, XR taught Miss Sporty and I the taiji way of evading an attack. I had a hard time getting used to it. I was taught the ‘hard-style’ method, which relies on speed and power, whereas taiji is softer and more technical in its application. It was quite interesting through.
We continued to do more punching and kicking. We also leaped and did jumping kicks. Ken had to leave early while Miss Sporty stayed longer. We blokes who remained continued to kick and punch and execute elbow strikes while Miss Sunshine watched us, possibly with some amusement, at the new age Neanderthals hacking away at one another. Prior to her arrival she had been cycling for five hours in East Coast Park. What a powerful woman! I think I may not look it, but I am also quite powerful. I played a football game before the training. I think I am a ‘strongling’ (a strongling is a strong weakling). XR and BQ are also powerful, pausing only occasionally in the training.
I think I am babbling now. I have just completed my Business Law question, and as we speak, am being eaten alive by mosquitoes that seem immune to my insecticide and fly unseen like goddamn Stealth Fighters. Don't mind me. I'm delirious.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yea, the powerful thing. Miss Sporty left around six - she was exhausted – leaving BQ, XR and I to our (torturous) devices. Each of us completed the following masochistic acts: 100 elbow strikes (50 for each side) and 50 turning kicks (using our left foot). We also timed ourselves to see how many punches and turning kicks (right-footed) we could execute in a minute. We could barely lift our legs to kick the pad and our waist was sore the act of bending over for the chambering. And air! We were practically gasping for air! BQ and I felt a slight headache from the impact. My right wrist is still a bit swollen from the blocking and the knuckles on my left hand is bruised. The little abrasions are a bit wet. My right hand is less sore but I can still write with either hand.
It was an excruciating exercise but I thoroughly relished it. We agreed unanimously that if we could keep this up week in week out we would be extremely fit.
On our way to the nearby food centre the three of us discussed about the martial arts. We didn’t really feel like eating when we got there, despite the good food; we were dehydrated – no, desiccated - from our exertions. I hope Xianghong, Cassandra and Miss Sporty can join us this Sunday. It would be smashing! Literally.
Is Religion the Biggest Obstacle to Gender Equality?
I was lying in bed and listening to the radio this morning when this topic came up on BBC’s World Have Your Say: ‘Is Religion the Biggest Obstacle to Gender Equality?’
They had a rabbi, an imam, a representative of some obscure woman’s rights organization in a spokeswoman for Freedom From Religion on the show. There might have been another but I can’t remember now so I’ll just cut to the chase.
The first three – or four – claimed that religion is not an obstacle and any subjugation of women has been the result of the predominance of patriarchal societies. They also argued that men and women were created equal by Gawd and therefore have different roles to play. (I suppose this explains why the bloody Arab world treats women as little more than sheep and do not allow them equal rights and opportunities. )
The rabbi was particularly obnoxious. He said that the removal of two female cabinet ministers from a press photograph is necessary to preserve the violation of female modesty. He justified this laughable assertion by saying that females have a ‘very high role’’ and therefore should be spared from public scrutiny. When the BBC presenter wanted to speak to his wife and daughter to hear their views on the matter the rabbi made a sorry excuse saying that ‘their English was not very good’ and refused to let them on air.
While the spokeswoman for Freedom From Religion was talking, the rabbi kept interrupting her. Listening to the show I felt fucking pissed off and if I were in the studio I would have fucking told the Jewish charlatan to shut his fucking trap or I would shut it for him. This is obviously a pig that does not respect women. My wretched cold cleared a bit – I suppose my anger helped – and as I listened to the programme I felt even more enraged at the bloody moderates who called it and said that women were never oppressed by religion.
So at 1.30am, I switched on my computer and accessed the World Have Your Say page. I left my comments on the blog. I just had to do something. I was practically trembling with rage. I couldn’t think coherently, and my fingers kept hitting the keyboard and I had to take off my earpiece to allow myself to focus. They didn’t read out my comments but I had to make a point whether anyone liked it or not.
Sandy from Singapore called in. She described her experience in a Catholic church and said that although the nuns have been working very hard they never received the same recognition as the men. She further said that religion never treated women as equals and I applauded her. For that brief time she was on air I was not ashamed of my cuntry. It was refreshing hearing a Singapore woman – I don’t regard women as inferior; I just have a low opinion of the local women in general – speak with such intelligence. She is a pearl indeed. I hope I can get to meet her one day.
Unfortunately after she ended a few moderates called in and defended religion. I was quite disgusted with the BBC. Why did they get so many bloody religious adherents and parasitic moderates to comment on a topic that rightly should not be discussed in this time and age? They should have gotten more atheists on the show. Possibly a few anarchists as well.
I felt like hitting some sod after the programme ended. I am still pretty pissed off.
They had a rabbi, an imam, a representative of some obscure woman’s rights organization in a spokeswoman for Freedom From Religion on the show. There might have been another but I can’t remember now so I’ll just cut to the chase.
The first three – or four – claimed that religion is not an obstacle and any subjugation of women has been the result of the predominance of patriarchal societies. They also argued that men and women were created equal by Gawd and therefore have different roles to play. (I suppose this explains why the bloody Arab world treats women as little more than sheep and do not allow them equal rights and opportunities. )
The rabbi was particularly obnoxious. He said that the removal of two female cabinet ministers from a press photograph is necessary to preserve the violation of female modesty. He justified this laughable assertion by saying that females have a ‘very high role’’ and therefore should be spared from public scrutiny. When the BBC presenter wanted to speak to his wife and daughter to hear their views on the matter the rabbi made a sorry excuse saying that ‘their English was not very good’ and refused to let them on air.
While the spokeswoman for Freedom From Religion was talking, the rabbi kept interrupting her. Listening to the show I felt fucking pissed off and if I were in the studio I would have fucking told the Jewish charlatan to shut his fucking trap or I would shut it for him. This is obviously a pig that does not respect women. My wretched cold cleared a bit – I suppose my anger helped – and as I listened to the programme I felt even more enraged at the bloody moderates who called it and said that women were never oppressed by religion.
So at 1.30am, I switched on my computer and accessed the World Have Your Say page. I left my comments on the blog. I just had to do something. I was practically trembling with rage. I couldn’t think coherently, and my fingers kept hitting the keyboard and I had to take off my earpiece to allow myself to focus. They didn’t read out my comments but I had to make a point whether anyone liked it or not.
Sandy from Singapore called in. She described her experience in a Catholic church and said that although the nuns have been working very hard they never received the same recognition as the men. She further said that religion never treated women as equals and I applauded her. For that brief time she was on air I was not ashamed of my cuntry. It was refreshing hearing a Singapore woman – I don’t regard women as inferior; I just have a low opinion of the local women in general – speak with such intelligence. She is a pearl indeed. I hope I can get to meet her one day.
Unfortunately after she ended a few moderates called in and defended religion. I was quite disgusted with the BBC. Why did they get so many bloody religious adherents and parasitic moderates to comment on a topic that rightly should not be discussed in this time and age? They should have gotten more atheists on the show. Possibly a few anarchists as well.
I felt like hitting some sod after the programme ended. I am still pretty pissed off.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Why Teachers Quit?!
Why Teachers Quit?! is a damning indictment of our supposedly world class education system. This brutally honest account reveals what it truly is: overrated, callous, insipid, shameful, stressful and mercenary; a system in which schools, which were sacred bastions of learning, are now corrupted parodies of their former selves.
Enzo Liow devotes much of his book on the four main areas which could break a teacher: students, parents, teachers and the system. Teachers are expected to maintain discipline, yet they are no longer granted the authority to punish errant students. Parents expect their teachers to do everything from teaching to instilling moral values. Instead of concentrating on imparting knowledge to their young and impressionable charges, our educators have to devote much time on non-academic obligations. From attending endless meetings and training courses, doing projects, conducting extra curriculum activities to ensuing their schools achieve commercial recognition like ISO standards and People’s Developer awards, teachers are overburdened and stretched to breaking point. Indeed, there is no respite in this debilitating profession. It only comes when he or she resigns.
Reading this book sends a shudder down my spine. Something is seriously wrong when the system is obsessed with results and will do anything to achieve the next accolade or award. The school environment is now a cut-throat corporate culture. Everybody is expendable and a commodity to be ruthlessly exploited to benefit the school and its management. A paradigm shift has occurred in education: corporatism has tainted it and reduced everything to bare monetary values. And our teachers and students are worse off for it.
The testimonials from ex-teachers make particularly gut-wrenching reading. Their words betray an underlying sense of despair, that of the idealist pitted against an uncaring system of crushing cynicism. Although Enzo Liow expresses hope for the teaching profession, his tone reminds you of a man who drinks himself to blissful oblivion to escape the harshness – and truth of reality.
Why Teachers Quit?! could have been a masterpiece but the author shot himself in the foot with his Singapore-style English and poor grammar. Smileys do not belong to a published work of this nature; their inclusion makes his writing amateurish. The book is also too short to truly qualify as a discourse on a serious topic.
Despite its shortcomings, I would recommend this book to any wannabe teacher. Rarely has a commentary been so refreshing honest and Enzo Liow deserves credit for highlighting a problem that has been swept under the carpet.
Ratings: 4/5
Friday, April 3, 2009
Hurray! It's Over!
Isn't it an irony that the G20 meeting took place during April Fool’s Day?
Measures worth $1.1 trillion are promised to tackle the deepening recession. The figure is impressive but how are they going to cough up the money?
The G20 meeting is held on the premise that 20 countries – 19 if you discount the EU - by virtue of making up 85% of the world economy, offer the best solutions to the current economic crisis. Considering that the world is made up of nearly 200 countries and only the top 5 to 10% is invited to the ball, this smacks of elitism. Surely the G20 will want to look after their own interests first. They keep going on about the importance of not implementing protectionism, but 17 of these 20 have already taken such measures. The remaining 160 plus nations are apparently too inferior to contribute, even though they live on the same planet as their richer counterparts. Capitalism at its best.
For all our sakes, I do hope that whatever the
As usual
So
Anyway, more money ($500 billion) is promised to developing nations. The rest goes to the IMF, international banks, promoting of international trade etc. (
Sanctions against tax havens will be set – er…okay. At least this issue was actually discussed. According to a BBC broadcaster last night the ‘green economy’ issue was only mentioned – and brusquely – in the 28th paragraph in the 29 paragraphed communiqué. So much for environmental issues. So let us cut down more forests to create more jobs for loggers. We cannot afford to reduce pollution! Millions in sweat-shop factories around the world would lose their jobs! We should deplete our natural resources and reserves. Make way for shopping malls and mines. Who cares about the animals? They got nowhere to go they will just die quietly. They don’t pay tax, don’t buy stuff and contribute to the economy, why bother?
I am just glad that this meeting is over and done with. I’m getting sick of the massive coverage of the London Summit. Now, on to more important news.
Pirated Inkblot Test
Another strange test (thanks Lass.)
Outcome C - The Scientist.
Outcome C - The Scientist.
Based on the descriptions you chose, you have quite a unique mind. You are creative, introverted, and find it hard to meet new people. You are constantly looking for new methods and ideas, and find excitement in learning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
