Sunday Nature

The Lass, Pearl and I spent Sunday afternoon together. After having lunch at Newton hawker centre, we got on the bus to the Bukit Timah nature reserve. The street directory Pearl brought wasn’t detailed enough for us to find the entrance to the reserve so we just took pot luck and alighted somewhere nearby.

Initially we couldn’t locate the entrance. The three of us walked along the pavement besides the undergrowth. It seemed to stretch on forever, and we thought we would not be able to find a way in. Meanwhile we kept our eyes open and admired the plants nearby.

Espying a break in the undergrowth, I told my friends to wait while I explored. I had a feeling it would lead into the Bukit Timah reserve and my haunch was right. It was quite a challenging climb. Before I could yell at my friends, the Lass and Pearl already started up the path. I helped them, pulled them up the treacherous path.

Where we came up. Tricky route to navigate.

The bridge stands sentinel over the track.

Beautiful.

A spectacular sight greeted us. We stood on a hill overlooking a railway track. To our right was a bridge, and at our backs the high-rise flats across the road loomed like titans. A log lay several yards away. Beyond the bridge we could see the forest and the hill. Nature and the edifices of men stood side by side, conveying a sense of contrast and majesty. We snapped shots of ourselves, the scenery and any other thing that seized our fancy.

Soul Sisters.

White and black, beauty and the beast

Crossing the bridge, the three of us reached a road. As we walked Pearl told us of the natural environments of the countries she had been to. The Lass said she liked the old Celtic world, the rich fantasy realm of dragons and faeries, knights and magicians. Quite the romantic.

The road leads to the Hill.

Eventually we reached our destination. The Bukit Timah hill appeared before our eyes. Its towered over us, its slopes chiseled, and their faces the colour of apricot. Greenery stuck to the surface like algae. Below the hill, a shallow lake sat torpid. As we drew nearer we saw that a fence blocked our progress to the lake. Two men fished – I didn’t know how they got in – and looked at us with some amusement. One stared at the Lass with interest.

What's the damn fence for?

We should have been up there.

To our left a flight of steps led down and we followed it, thinking it would lead us somewhere interesting. It did, in a way. We didn’t realize it was a big drain until we had gone ten yards into it. It reminded me of a real-life Dungeons and Dragons game. True, there were no goblins to kill and dragons to subdue (the only monsters were probably tiny spiders and other critters which wisely remained out of sight from the stomping and marauding giant and giantesses.) I nearly stepped on a trap: a pile of shit and a few pieces of soiled toilet paper. The Lass squealed, but avoided the trap without incident. Intrepid adventurers we were, we pressed onward. The remnants of dead branches and wisps of spider webs became our kills, as we moved quickly down the gloomy and musty passageway.

The Dungeon (sorry, can't get it to rotate clockwise)

The open drain soon became a tunnel. The three of us stopped at its mouth and looked uncertainly into it. We would have to bend ourselves if we were to continue, and we were not sure where it would lead us. I volunteered to play scout. Taking hold of the railing at the side of the drain, I climbed out of the drain. I saw that a declining foot path intersected the top surface of the tunnel. Cresting the rise of the path I saw that it led out of the forest. I tried to follow the tunnel from atop but the thick undergrowth impeded me from determining where it ended.

I climbed down and told my fellow adventurers we had to climb out. They were surprised but soon snapped out of their shock and passed me their bags. I had thought to pull them up but Pearl said it would be easier if I climbed down and help.

So I did. The wall was about my companions’ height. The Lass looked at it and squealed some more. The girls ascended the steps in the drain’s passageway, hoping to find a part where the wall was shorter but the sides of the drain were uniform in height. I suggested going back the way we came but we dismissed the notion. We would emerge from the depths or die trying.

Pearl scaled the wall with little fuss. Her yoga training came in useful. The Lass tried climbing up but failed. She said her hands were too weak. We shouted encouragement to her and she tried again. It didn’t work. At our urging, she stuck the toe of her shoe into the water hole to get some purchase but her shoe was not sleek enough. I looked around for anything that might help. Something to step on perhaps. There was none. I had my hands around her waist and pushed the Lass up as she gripped the wall and climbed. Pearl tried to pull her up. The situation was desperate as it was hilarious. We three were giggling – the Lass the most - as we attempted to figure out an evacuation plan.

So I bent my knees and asked the Lass to use my thigh as a step-up. She thought she would break my leg because she was heavy. Only after I reassured her that my legs are strong from football and martial arts practice did she try – and failed. Obviously my thigh was too slim. Then I thought it would be easier if I bent down and shove while Pearl helped her peddle up. Trying to lift something up from a squatting position was just daft. It didn’t work.

I decided that desperate situations call for desperate measures. I went on all fours and asked the Lass to step on my back. She went wide-eyed and screamed that she would break my back and kill me. I was confident it would work and it did! The Lass was as light as a little faerie and with Pearl’s help she made it out. What a momentous day! She should tell her Sha Monkeys of her achievement. Surely this is Lara Croft in the making!

After that we came to a very big pipe, or rather a section of it. One of my friends said it looked like a bomb shelter but we agreed that it would be useless in a bomb raid. The Lass commented it looked like a theatre; the acoustics and all that stuff. In response, I sang falsetto and ended up coughing. I have no talent in the arts.

As we made our way out of the forest we found ourselves before some private properties. The rich people residing in the houses must hate the mosquitoes. The three of us continued to walk and reached the railway tracks. Pearl was right. There was no train running on Sundays and we enjoyed the quiet and safety of the unused tracks to take photos. We had a hell of a time balancing on the side rails, and of course, more photo-taking. In the distance the bridge where we were earlier seemed to wave at us. Bye bye bridge. We followed the road out.



By this time we were utterly dehydrated from our exertions. The sun beat down on us relentlessly and it was fortunate there were a row of shops in the vicinity. We found ourselves a small restaurant and settled ourselves in its cozy and delightfully chilly environs. I found myself trying to determine the size of each drink as I scanned through each offering on the menu. The girls deliberated over their choice of desserts. Women! I don’t understand them. They go crazy over shoes, clothing, make-up and chocolate. Still they are cute in a way because of this – excluding of course, the time when they go overboard and make their guy’s bank account collapse like Wall Street. (That is a story for another day and I’m rambling again.)

Thankfully we survived long enough for our refreshments to arrive. Pearl ordered chocolate ice cream while the Lass got herself some food. I finished my drink all too quickly (that was how thirsty I was). Not satisfied with the amount of food, we ordered a second round. The Lass was absolutely lucky when it came to ordering food. She got such a large plate of goodies that Pearl and I had to – it was a pleasure – help her finish. Pearl had earl grey tea. I had never heard of this tea before and I sniffed at it in the way a curious animal would at anything that catches its attention. I don’t know why it’s called earl grey. It didn’t look grey and it didn’t have a strong aroma. Pearl, who is well-traveled, told us about the size of the meals they serve in the US and the charming teas the Brits make for breakfast. My mouth watered as I listened to her narration. Two things: I want to go abroad even more; Pearl should be a travel writer. The Lass will make a good Lara Croft and Pearl the female version of Marco Polo.

Chocolate. Now you see it, now you don't.

The television screen in the restaurant flashed fashion shows. I glanced at the TV from time to time at the bevy of beauties – the two girls must think I am an animal. Hey, all guys are shallow! We talked about TV shows and I discovered one thing. Pearl and the Lass go for quality in the drama shows. I judge quality by the number of babes in the show. I reiterate my point: all guys are Shallow Hals, and I daresay more than a few are proud of it!

Stunning. Absolutely spectacular.

It was a pity the other atheists couldn’t join us. Since the intellectuals like to talk about evolution and all that multi-level selection stuff, they would have gained a deeper appreciation had they joined us. Sitting down in a café and speak of evolution and how animals evolve and adapt is akin to a general discussing military tactics based on what is written on a piece of paper. Rhetorical and nothing to the point. There are more things in Nature (I’m bastardizing Shakespeare’s famous quote) than they are in your philosophies. Rather sea turtles than Socrates, rather the canopy of the a tropical rain forest, than your solipsistic postmodernism, philosophical pluralism and whatever. The wild pig charging at me has greater bearing than your frivolous and pretentiously constructed postulations. The – you get my point.

Such majesty...

In the words of the great Terminator: “I’ll (We’ll) be back.” For me, three locations summed up our trip: the railway, the ditch, and the restaurant. We set off for Nature, but we found man-made structures. Ironic, but true.

The Lass did my nails on the bus. My first manicure! I’m so excited I just can’t hide it I’m so excited….

Left Hand

Right Hand

To HELL with Valentine's Day!

Valentine’s Day is sweet for some, depressing for others. Me? All I got was a dead body.

My bus was moving towards Jurong when I noticed a big crowd by the side of the road. The crowd comprised mostly of Indians and Bangladesh. The bus then shifted to the right lane and as it moved forward I saw a policeman and his bike. The guy sitting in front of my suddenly became excited, stood and pasted his face against the window. Restless energy filled the air. I wondered what could have elicited such excitement. Then I saw it.

A corpse lay in the middle of the road, face up, and arms sprayed to the sides. A large pool of blood had spread from his back. Its thickness glimmered like a mirror, and in the darkness, it looked black and accusatory.

When I turned back, the excited guy was gone. He had probably alighted for a closer look. While he was at it he might as well get at the flesh before the other vultures moved in. Not much meat to go around by the looks of it.

I felt a bit…I don’t know how to put it. I was neither sad nor frightened. I thought of the dead guy’s family and how sad they would be. I supposed I should feel sorry, but I was not. I imagined myself standing next to the corpse. It was grisly of course, but no worse than the dead body of a suicide I saw when I was a kid. She (or he) leaped from maybe sixteen floors and landed ten metres away from the block. The corpse was a mess , but there wasn’t much blood. Death was instantaneous. As I looked down from the third floor I could not help but feel fascinated. So were the boys next door. Our parents talked to each other, their tone gossipy.

I wonder how the cheap laborer died. Apart from that solitary pool underneath his body, I didn’t see blood anywhere else. There was no car parked at the scene so it was unlikely a traffic accident. Murder? Probably a stab in the back. What did the man think about as he lay helpless on the road, too weak to even breathe and his life blood seeping away? Pain. His loved ones. Did his life flash in front of him? Nobody helped him – perhaps they were too late. Did anyone see him die? Did anyone see how he died but walked away, thinking it was none of their business?

I HATE VALENTINE”S DAY.

Brain Sex

Thanks to the Lass for this little distraction.

The link to the little fun site is http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/sex/add_user.shtml

For your amusement:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The scale below is an indication of where you fall in the male-female brain continuum. The results are based on the angles, spot the difference, 3D shapes and words tasks. Bear in mind that your performance may be affected by many factors in addition to gender, like age and intelligence.

Your personal brain score: Average score for MEN who've taken this survey: Average score for WOMEN who've taken this survey:

If you are using a public PC we strongly advise you to print out and delete your results if you do not want anyone to see them.

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	Part 1

	Angles
	This task tested your ability to identify the angle of a line by matching it with its twin. This is a spatial task, which looks at how you picture space. Your score: 15 out of 20 Average score for men: 15.1 out of 20 Average score for women: 13.3 out of 20 What does your result suggest? If you scored 0 - 12: You have more of a female brain. Scientists believe that people with a female brain find it more difficult to judge the slope of a line because they're not wired for spatial tasks. In past studies, 65 per cent of people who scored in this range were women. If you scored 13 - 17: You found this test neither hard nor easy. This suggests your brain has male and female traits when it comes to spatial ability. If you scored 18 - 20: You have more of a male brain. On average, men outperform women in this task and those with more mathematical knowledge tend to score quite high as well. In past studies, 60 per cent of the people in this range were men. Interestingly, men's testosterone levels fluctuate through the seasons and studies have shown that men's scores are lower in the spring, when their testosterone levels are at their lowest. Do our cave dwelling ancestors offer us any clues about why men and women score differently on this task? Find out more.
	Spot the difference
	This task tested your ability to identify which objects changed position. You lost points, if you incorrectly identified objects. Your score: 50% Average score for men: 39% Average score for women: 46% What does your score suggest? If you scored between 0 - 33%: You may have more of a male brain. Scientists say men tend to under perform in this task. The corpus callosum, the part of the brain that links the right and left hemispheres, is a fifth larger in women. This means women can process visual and other signals at the same time more easily than men. There is also a theory that oestrogen levels in women give them an added advantage in spatial memory. If you scored between 34 - 66%: You may have a balanced female-male brain. If you scored between 67 - 100%: Those with a female-type brain generally score in this range. Your ability to remember where objects are may serve as an advantage to you when you're trying to find your way around places. You're more capable of recalling landmarks to get from one place to another. Find out more about our spatial abilities.

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	Part 2

Hands

You said your right thumb was on top when you clasped your hands together. Right thumb on top: This suggests the left half of your brain is dominant. Many studies have tried to establish whether there is a relationship between handedness and brain dominance. Some scientists believe that if you are left brain dominant, you would be more verbal and analytical. Left thumb on top: This suggests the right half of your brain is dominant. Some studies theorise that as a right brain dominant person, you may excel in visual, spatial and intuitive processes. However, these theories are debatable and leave much to be said about the small percentage of people who are ambidextrous. Find out why right-brained people may be better fighters and artists.

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	Part 3

Emotions and Systems

This task looked at whether you prefer to empathise or systemise. Empathising Your empathy score is: 4 out of 20 Average score for men: 7.9 out of 20 Average score for women: 10.6 out of 20 What does your result suggest? Empathisers are better at accurately judging other people's emotions and responding appropriately. If you scored 15 and above, you are very empathic and would be an ideal person to comfort people in a time of crisis. Women in general are better at empathising. Systemising Your systemising score is: 4 out of 20 Average score for men: 12.5 out of 20 Average score for women: 8.0 out of 20 What does your result suggest? Systemisers prefer to investigate how systems work. A system can be a road map, flat pack furniture, or a mathematical equation – anything that follows a set of rules. A score of 15 and above suggests you're good at analysing or building systems. Men in general are better at systemising. Scientists are keen to learn more about people who score high or low on both tests. They want to find out whether or not empathising and systemising are linked. Is a possible to make yourself more empathic? Some scientists claim that our empathy and systemising abilities can be traced all the way back to prehistoric times. Find out more.

Eyes

This task tested your ability to judge people's emotions. Your score: 7 out of 10 Average score for men: 6.6 out of 10 Average score for women: 6.6 out of 10 What does your result suggest? If you scored 0 - 3: Do you think you're good at judging how another person is feeling? Your score suggests this doesn't come to you quite so naturally. If you scored 4 - 6: Your result suggests you have a balanced female-male brain and find it neither easy nor difficult to judge people's emotions. If you scored 7 - 10: Your result suggests you are a good empathiser, sensitive to other people's emotions. Women generally fall into this category. Professor Baron-Cohen at the University of Cambridge says that people usually perform better than they expect to on this test. Men often think a person's eyes are sending signals of desire when that's not the case at all. Find out more.

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	Part 4

Fingers

We asked you to measure your ring and index fingers. Your ratios came to: Right Hand: 0.98 Left Hand: 1.01 Average ratio for men: 0.982 Average ratio for women: 0.991 It's thought that your ratio is governed by the amount of testosterone you were exposed to in your mother's womb. The ratio of the length of your index finger to the length of your ring finger is set for life by as early as three months after conception. Even during puberty, when we experience intensive hormonal changes, the ratio stays the same. Men generally have a ring finger that is longer than their index finger, which gives them a lower ratio than women, whose ring and index fingers are usually of equal length. Studies have found that men and women with lots of brothers generally have more masculine finger ratios. Find out what other things scientists think our ratios may tell us.

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	Part 5

Faces

This task looked at how you rate the attractiveness of a series of faces. The images you looked at were digitally altered to create slight differences in masculinity. Your choices suggest you prefer more feminine faces. Highly masculinised male faces possess more extreme testosterone markers such as a long, broad and lower jaw, as well as more pronounced brow ridges and cheekbones. Interestingly, women's preferences are said to vary across the menstrual phase. A more masculine face is preferred during the 9 days prior to ovulation, when conception is most likely. A typical 'attractive' female face possesses features such as a shorter, narrower, lower jaw, fuller lips and larger eyes than an average face. Are you surprised at what researchers think they can learn from your answers? Find out more.

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	Part 6

3D shapes

This task tested your ability to mentally rotate 3D shapes. Your score: 10 out of 12 Average score for men: 8.2 out of 12 Average score for women: 7.1 out of 12 What does your result suggest? If you scored 0 - 6: Do you find yourself having to physically rotate a map to point in the direction in which you're travelling? This might explain why you scored in the lower range in the 3D shapes test. Twice as many women as men score in this category. Previous studies suggest that those with a female-type brain or with an arts background fall into this range. If you scored 7 - 9: In past studies, 50 per cent of the people who scored in this range were women and 50 per cent were men. If you scored 10 - 12: Are you an engineer or do you have a science background? People with these skills tend to score in this range. Past studies have concluded that people in this range have a more male brain. Nearly a third of men who took this test got full marks, whereas less than 10 per cent of women managed the same. Find out why.

Words

This task looked at your verbal fluency. Your score: you associated 8 word(s) with grey and you named 6 word(s) that mean happy. We are assuming that all the words you entered are correct. Average score for men: 11.4 words total Average score for women: 12.4 words total What does your result suggest? If you produced 1 - 5 words: You are more of the strong, silent type with a male brain. You probably find it easier to express yourself in non-verbal ways, preferring action rather than words. If you produced 6 - 10 words: Most people in this range have a female-type brain. Women are said to use both sides of the brain when doing verbal tasks while men mainly use their left side. Studies have shown that girls develop vocabulary faster than boys. This difference in brain power is caused by levels of pre-natal testosterone. Find out more .

Ultimatum

This task asked you how you would divide money. If you had to split £50 with someone, you said you would demand £25 So far on the Sex ID test, men have demanded 51.6% (£25.80) of the pot and women have demanded 51.0% (£25.50), on average. What does your response suggest? Sex differences are small in this task. Demanding less than 60% of the pot (ie £30) is more typically female. Demanding more than 65% of the pot (ie £32.50) is more typically male. Scientists believe that people with lower testosterone levels tend to take fewer risks so they are probably more willing to keep less for themselves. Those with higher testosterone levels tend to drive a harder bargain and are less compromising. Men's testosterone levels fluctuate over the seasons and are at their lowest levels during the springtime. This is said to influence their bargaining power. Find out more about the role of testosterone.

Academia Blues

I finally formed my project groups. I am delighted. This half of the season is quite special. I am the only guy in both my groups. This motivates me greatly. My male ego will drive me to perform. I hate producing mediocre work in front of women. On first impression my group mates seemed quite fine. In fact I hit off quite well with two of them. Nothing suggested that they would be anything like the Mutt that put me through so much pain last season. The last time I worked in an all-female group was for Stats – we got the highest in our class. I hope this time things will be no different. I was motivated then and my motivation wanes not. Nil Satis Nisi Optimum!

Shortly after I woke up, I endured more than three hours on the Financial Accounting MCQ. I was a bit unlucky with the draw (most of the questions were on calculation), but in the end I secured the result I desired. I still have a quiz on Business Law to settle. I anticipate a few torrid hours of wordplay. You know what they say about lawyers…


I am still ecstatic over Everton’s defeat of Liverpool. The Blues play Aston Villa in the next tie. Some people in the FA must hate Everton to the core. We played the “Big Four” sides for five matches straight. We got Arsenal and Man U in the league, three derbies and now we have to play Villa, who are in a rich vein of form themselves. Injuries are piling up. Fellaini and Peanuts are crocked. Anichebe went crazy at David Moyes and the only “top” class striker we have is loan signing Jo. I hope Moyes play Gosling. The youngster deserves a chance in the starting line up after his FA Cup heroics against that Shite from across the street.

Everton’s tough draw reminds me of the European campaigns we had. A few seasons back we kicked the Shite off fourth spot and whom did we get in our Champions League qualifier? Villarreal. Playing the very technical and tactical Yellow Submarine was bad enough, to do so with over half the first team on the treatment table was insane. They led 2:1 from the Goodison leg. In Spain, Arteta’s brilliant free kick gave us hope. Big Duncan scored from a corner, but that overrated bastard of a so-called referee Pierliugi Collina inexplicably ruled out Big Dunc’s perfectly legitimate goal. Had that stood it would have leveled the tie. With the boys pushing forward in the dying minutes in search of an equalizer, they scored and that was it.

After Everton finished fifth last season, we expected a decent UEFA (or Europa) Cup run. Again, some whoreson in UEFA didn’t like us and we drew against Standard Liege. It made me sick to the stomach. The other teams like Spurs and Pompey did just enough to secure a European spot and they got drawn with teams nobody had even heard of. We did ourselves proud in the league and our reward was the damn Belgian champions. We lost this one again.

I hope we qualify for Europe this season. The team are playing the best football I have seen in a long time and it will be a shame if they don’t make it to Europe. And this time I really hope the thrice-damned cur-humping bastards at UEFA don’t screw us up again.

Off with the Shite!

I am going to gloat.

Everton kicked Liverpool out of the FA Cup with a deflected strike by teenager Dan Gosling in extra time. Since losing in the derby earlier this season, Everton have gotten the measure of their vastly richer neighbors.

Indeed, there was a sense of nostalgia in this fairy-tale ending. Everton were expected to roll over and surrender. A gap of fourteen points in the league separates the two sides. This gulf seems more prominent when you consider the overall value of the Everton squad is only a small fraction of what their neighbors cost. With their first choice strike force decimated by injuries, Everton have been forced to play attacking midfielder Tim Cahill upfront and out of position for the entire month. Despite the difficulties, Everton’s narrow defeat at Old Trafford on Sunday was only their first of the year, rounding off a month which have seen them drew with Chelsea and Arsenal, twice with Liverpool and beaten Hull City and Macclesfield.

Everton’s stifling tactics denied the Shite their usual procession game. Like the previous two derbies, Everton fought a war of attrition, frustrating the Shite at every turn and threatening on counter attacks and set pieces. The strategy was simple and predictable, but Shite manager Rafael Benitez had no answer to it.

The physical contest brought back memories of the old-fashioned English game. The blood and thunder displays, the diehard commitment and the fiery passion on the pitch were absorbing in the way a slogging match is. Six cautions, one red card and two injuries epitomized the intensity of this brutal encounter. The Blues finally had the Reds on the tight rope after Lucas was sent off fourteen minutes from time. Up popped youngster Dan Gosling at the far post, the chance set up by perpetual benchwarmer Andy Van der Meyde and Goodison Park saw one of the greatest nights in their club’s history.

For all their lauded abilities and Champions League pedigree, title contenders Liverpool failed when it mattered. The magic of the FA Cup remains, and remains a beautiful sight. David versus Goliath. A team which fielded over half of its playing strength in Englishmen, youngsters and bit-part players showed a team consisting of expensive and experienced foreign mercenaries what the English game is all about. The paupers versus the wealthy. Sheer desire over technique. A paper-thin squad versus a squad with depth. And in the end, a young player won it for his side. The giant-killing, so sweet and intoxicating, you won’t find it anywhere else other than the FA Cup. You won’t find it any better than the Blues in jubilation, and the Reds, dejected and their tails between their legs, limping off the pitch.

FUCK OFF LIVERPOOL!

Strange People and Rare Praise

A friend messaged me:


Received: 05:31:52pm 29-01-2009

Bro. Convenient to lend me 500bucks?if you lend me right I can only pay you back end feb. Not convenient Nevermind..No worries


Received: 06:31:47pm 30-01-2009

Want to eat my shit?


I have strange friends. (No. I didn’t bother to reply and give him a handout.)


I was in a black mood just now. I got a question wrong for one of my online quizzes in my Financial Accounting. There goes my 100% record. I’m fed up. Fucking fed up.

Checking the Discussion Board improved my mood. To date sixteen persons (including myself) have logged on to post their comments on business ethics. I am still the devil’s advocate. I replied to two of my classmates and the writing process calmed me down somewhat. The discussion topic will close on the 5th or 6th, and out of a class of over forty only sixteen have deigned to reply. Maybe the rest are not impressed that the Discussion Forum is only worth 5% of the overall marks. To each his own then.

For once the University has got things right. The Discussion Forum is great for engaging people and promoting critical thinking and discussion. It’s a pity that only Financial Accounting (to the best of my knowledge) has a system which allocates marks to participation. Unfortunately, there will be people who will snub the forum because they either do not deem the 5% worthy of their time and effort, or they believe that in the end, everybody will get full marks as the forum is just “for show”. I find it absolutely useful and I applaud the course chair who designed this module. I have been very critical of the school but I have to give credit where it’s due. However, I feel that it will be more useful if the 5% marks allocated to online participation is increased to 10% or 15%. People have to understand that critical thinking is an important aspect of education and the increased allocation will reinforce the view.

I still got to work on my Accounting. More headache.

More Frustration

My Personal Financial Planning module starts tomorrow morning and now shit happens. When I tried to download the assignment file, an error message appeared to tell me I’m screwed.

*Inspired*, I wrote on the Discussion Board. There was another fellow who wrote in at around 7pm to say that “the file corrupted?”


I just have to do it.


Thu, Jan 22, 2009 – [course code]

"Dear [course code] students,

[Assignment] is now available on [server] for your downloading.

Thank you.

[School]"

With all due respect sir, I don't think "The file is damaged and could not be repaired" can be counted as a file.



My anger was not helped when I tried to log into my university email account.

“The user name or password that you entered is not valid. Try entering it again.”

After they got the site up, they lost the email. Brilliant.

Pissed Off

I am in a foul mood. I am always like this after class. My Financial Accounting lecture was a torture. The lecturer’s fine; it’s the class I hate. Sitting with these people disgusts me. I was at the back row and I had a bird’s eye view of the riffraff. The guys looked like losers and the girls – now where do I start? Either they were overweight and utterly unappealing, or simply pathetic impersonations of bimbos, the boobless kind that are so prevalent in this accused cuntry.

To compound my agony, the Mutt was seated two rows in front of me. His corpulent body quivered with rolls of fat as he shifted in his chair, a hideous amalgam of man and pig. Its trimmed head was the only redeeming feature in its brutish visage, but even so, it served only to exacerbate his wretchedness, for its seemingly normality provided a stark contrast to the rest of its inhuman form.

Two of its friends sat near the Mutt. They were of his species and even they paled in comparison to the creature that was their ilk. They were talking in their profane tongue and for the umpteen time I cursed the thrice-damned idiot who placed them in my class and wished they had found a group. One hadn’t but fortunately it found itself two or three victims. If I believed in Gawd I would have prostrated myself on the floor and praised His name.

I am still without a group. I don’t know how exactly I am going to get myself a group. I cannot do my group project alone. There is a one grade penalty on anyone who does a Rambo. I would like to meet the motherfucker who set this ridiculous rule. Maybe I will advertise myself on the Discussion Forum. However, after my less than parliamentary post (see this) I don’t think I will find any takers. I guess my lecturer will have to dump me somewhere.

I might have found myself a group, but for a strange quirk of fate. There was a girl (good-looking, but waist’s a bit on the thick side) who was looking. She saw I was sitting alone. Maybe she didn’t like my face. There were other guys around but she didn’t accost them either. She formed an all-girls group instead. I could have forced myself to ask her, but I didn’t know if she was in my class. There should have been a lecturer for each class but the one in charge of the class was on leave and they had to dump two classes inside an auditorium under one lecturer. (The fucking cunt or moob should have been dismissed for dereliction of duty. To take leave at the start of the season and leave her/his students to another is plain irresponsible.) As a result, over 80 students have to ‘share’ a lecturer. Group forming is not easy because some of us don’t even know which class we belong to!

If I had my way I would have ditched the group-project policy. It adds stress to already stressful students. There are fools of all stripes: the incompetent, the free-riders, the AWOL-ers, the anal-retentive and other assorted whoresons. How I envy Miao. She gets to do her assignment by herself. She will never be dragged down by parasites and leeches. Then again, my fucking paper-mill of a university is not offering a Philosophy degree any time soon or in the distant future. The failure rates will skyrocket and regardless of whichever Curve they use, they can never churn out a batch of sufficient size to meet the required number of passes. I don’t know why some of my schoolmates are undergrads. They would be out of place even in a secondary school. Lacking intellectual curiosity, unsightly, often exaggerating their pitiful attributes – they should all go to Hell. And stay there!

Business Ethics Discussion

For your amusement:



Discussion Topic

Jean Lim is the accountant for HTech Pte Ltd. Her boss wanted a financial report by 2 pm to present to the Board of Directors. It is 11am and Jean has problem balancing her trial balance as there is a shortage of $5,000 in the debit balance. She believes she would be able to discover the missing $5,000 and make the necessary adjustment if only she has more time. In desperation, she debit additional $5,000 to Plant and Equipment as this account is large and $5,000 would hardly be noticeable. She comforts herself that nobody would be hurt by this anyway and she will investigate the missing $5,000 after the meeting is over.

Comment on Jean’s action and the ethical issues involved.



Excerpts from my classmates’ posts are shown below. So far we have:


“As ethics is about doing the right thing with moral duty and obligation. Thus, what she did was ethically wrong.”

“I would like to comment that Jean's action is worng. “

“Lastly, she believe that the upper management will not discover this due the size of the account. But instead the upper management might pay more attention to this account as a large expense to the company and they will look into further details for the reasons of the expense”

“What Jane did in my perspective is ethically wrong even thought the amount of $5,000 is not of any significance to the account. By adding that amount would only solve the problem temporary or in another word, buying time for a time bomb. “

“ …wouldn't she have to make out an additional $5000 expense to balance the account? Based on this, she has failed to follow the reliability principle which requires a document/evidence to support the transaction.”


My response:

Business ethics is an oxymoron. If companies can employ creative ways to 'polish' their financial statements, why can't Jean be 'creative' to get herself and her department out of trouble? I believe that the conundrum Jean faces is not uncommon in the business world.

Jean is just an ordinary accountant. She has no intention of doctoring the books so that she can embezzle funds. Her intentions are pragmatic rather than criminal. One may argue that the road to hell is paved with good intentions but the consequences of upholding her professional integrity can be just as dire. She would look bad if she were to inform her boss of the problem. Her failure may militate against her when it comes to being selected for promotion. Assuming her boss is as ethical as she is and appeals to the Board of Directors for a delay, this can result in a loss of confidence in her department. Furthermore, the delay in releasing the Financial Statements may also affect investor and shareholder confidence.

As the $5,000 is so small as to be almost negligible when factored into the Plant and Equipment Account, Jean can justify her action on the premise it will not make any significant dent in the final Financial Statement. Take it as the Materiality Concept being applied, albeit with a slight variation and on a much smaller scale.

Jean will investigate the missing amount after the meeting. It is highly likely she will resolve the issue. At the end of the day, as long as she is not apprehended and nobody is hurt in the process, I don't see why her actions cannot be justified. Ethicists will argue that if Jean evades discovery this time, there is no telling if she will do it again. This is fallacious reasoning. If a person is truly deceptive by nature, she will commit crimes whether she has done so in the past.

To reiterate my point, to judge Jean on her action alone is an act of moral prejudice. Intention also plays a part and we have to consider mitigating factors and other reasons so that we can make an informed and objective judgment.

Third Day and the E!

I called UniShit in the morning over the site problem. The phone operator told me that there had been an “intrusion” and the IT personnel would resolve the issue by today.

I don’t know if clicking "ignore this warning" option at the error screen…


Reported Attack Site

This web site at [UniShit URL] has been reported as an attack site and has been blocked based on your security preferences.

Attack sites try to install programs that steal private information, use your computer to attack others, or damage your system.

Some attack sites intentionally distribute harmful software, but many are compromised without the knowledge or permission of their owners.


…TWICE (the first gets you to the university website and the second to the LOG IN page) counts as the technical issue being “successfully resolved”. I am not going to try to log in.

I shall call them again tomorrow. They better give me a satisfactory answer.



I spoke to Mr. E just now. He and his Chinese wife had a big fight last night. When her folks brought her home, her brother told my friend to wait for the lawyer’s letter. The in-laws were naturally quite upset. The old man was absolutely livid and the old lady just cried. Mr. E’s folks tried to pacify the situation but the woman’s side weren’t interested. The whole “action”, as Mr. E put it, lasted less than five minutes.

Worried, I asked Mr. E if he needs to pay alimony in the case of a divorce. He said he’s not sure. I advised him not to let his wife know that he has another woman. My friend, Mr. B, has to pay a monthly maintenance of $800 and I do not wish that to happen to my friend. He replied that they can check his phone bills – he has been calling his Vietnamese squeeze every day. Still, he understands that this doesn’t constitute sufficient evidence to prove adultery.

It is obvious that things have been deteriorating between the couple. Although his Chinese wife has been living in Singapore for the past five years, she still doesn’t know how to take the bus. Mr. E bought her a bus guide but it didn’t do her any good. As my friend put it, she’s got a Masters degree but still know nothing. While he accuses her of being ignorant, she complains that her husband has been using hurtful remarks on her. She has a point, but so does he.

I asked Mr. E if he loves her. He doesn’t know himself, although he knows she does love him. Love cannot be one-sided and when there is no more love in a marriage it’s time to get a divorce. To complicate matters, Mr. E’s in-laws are pushing for them to reconcile, in spite of their daughter’s strange insistence not to do so. At some point in our conversation I offered him my congratulations. He was never suited for marriage. I felt happy that he finally has a chance to be free. Now I’m not so sure.

What of his Vietnamese squeeze then? Is he going to marry her, a widow with a kid? What are his folks to think? How are they going to survive on their paltry salary? Furthermore, I don’t think there’s going to be a clean break between Mr. E and his wife. Things are likely to drag on, boundaries are going to get blurry and a resolution is unlikely to be reached. Pretty much like the Israel-Palestinian situation. Assuming he marries her with a clean slate, unlikely as that is, will he lapse back into his philandering ways? It will be a vicious cycle.

Sometimes I think it’s a blessing in disguise that I am unwanted.

Oops They Did it Again!

Oh great. What is it now?


Reported Attack Site!

This web site at [UniShit URL] has been reported as an attack site and has been blocked based on your security preferences.

Attack sites try to install programs that steal private information, use your computer to attack others, or damage your system.

Some attack sites intentionally distribute harmful software, but many are compromised without the knowledge or permission of their owners.


Why is this site blocked?


According to Google,

Safe Browsing

Diagnostic page for [UniShit URL]

What is the current listing status for [UniShit URL]?

Site is listed as suspicious - visiting this web site may harm your computer.
Part of this site was listed for suspicious activity 2 time(s) over the past 90 days.

What happened when Google visited this site?

Of the 7 pages we tested on the site over the past 90 days, 3 page(s) resulted in malicious software being downloaded and installed without user consent. The last time Google visited this site was on 2009-01-27, and the last time suspicious content was found on this site was on 2009-01-27.

Malicious software includes 3 scripting exploit(s), 3 exploit(s). Successful infection resulted in an average of 0 new processes on the target machine.

Malicious software is hosted on 1 domain(s), including 710sese.cn/.
2 domain(s) appear to be functioning as intermediaries for distributing malware to visitors of this site, including 2009eeee.cn/, s581.3322.org/
This site was hosted on 1 network(s) including AS9226 (SGIX).

Has this site acted as an intermediary resulting in further distribution of malware?

Over the past 90 days, [UniShit URL] did not appear to function as an intermediary
for the infection of any sites.

Has this site hosted malware?

No, this site has not hosted malicious software over the past 90 days.

How did this happen?

In some cases, third parties can add malicious code to legitimate sites, which would cause us to show the warning message.

Next steps:
• Return to the previous page.
• If you are the owner of this web site, you can request a review of your site using Google Webmaster Tools. More information about the review process is available in Google's Webmaster Help Center.


I have been accessing the university website since a year ago and this is the first time this has happened. There has been quite a few problems within the site including: the 'hanging' of the site during online MCQ, the server being overwhelmed when project submission dates are impending, the unexplained disappearance of the Discussion Board and subsequent inaccessibility of the site itself (also a first), the system logging out halfway into course evaluation, the wrong answers in online MCQs which remain ‘uncorrectable’ (okay, that is due to human laziness rather than IT problems) and they appear to have been getting from bad to worse.

I didn’t change my security settings so this problem could not have been caused by my system. I got XH to try and he encountered the same thing. The recent problems, and the fact that this occurred during the holidays, suggest sinister forces at work. The Google Diagnostic page reports that malicious software are downloaded and installed without user’s consent, which implies the fools UniShit employs as IT support have either been sleeping or simply too incompetent to realize something’s wrong. I don’t know if my computer,, or anyone else’s has been infected as a result of logging on the university website. (I wonder if we could sue for damages if this actually happened.)

The site came down when nobody was around. Quite the impeccable timing. The hackers are free to do anything they want, at least until the infernal IT support returns to work tomorrow. I suspect it won’t make a huge difference. Notice the 'cn' extension at the end of the domains listed on the report. I don’t think UniShit outsources their IT to China. Maybe some disgruntled PRC students had enough of the stupid school and dropped by to wish everyone a Happy Chinese New Year.

I can’t imagine how the university’s management will react tomorrow. It’s time for UniShit’s under-qualified IT personnel to earn their pay. We have online assignments to do and the delay will cause us much inconvenience. It will be quite the shame if we are penalized for something that is not our fault. If they know what is good for them, the high-ups at UniShit better extend the deadlines for our assignments. We don’t want this little inconvenience to blow into a real storm do we?

To think that UniShit wants to have their courses based more online. The higher profits are quite lucrative, yet this episode demonstrates how laughable and ludicrous - and vulnerable – their racket is. I cannot imagine the uproar if the site collapses near the examination period and ALL the online reports, MCQs and grades are wiped out. The spectacle should be quite spectacular.

This is what you get when you have nearly everything online. This is what you get for employing cheap labor. This is what you get when you push people too far. O chaos! O wondrous chaos!

UNIbullSHIT

To Hell with UniShit!

For my Financial Accounting module, online discussion is worth 5% of the overall marks. When I logged on my account yesterday, I COULD NOT find the Discussion Board in my university web site!

There was no way to find out if they had restored the Discussion Board because I could not even access my account . I kept getting this error message:

“Sorry that an error has occurred in the page that you request.”

I am sorry all right - sorry that I enrolled myself in this fucking university!

UniShit recommends that its students access the university web site every day to check for updates. How in Gehenna are we going to do that when the site is as reliable as milk powder from China?!

UniShit also expects us to access our personal university email on a regular basis. That means we have to log on two accounts separately just to ensure we don’t miss out anything. Why can’t they just stick to one account and direct every fucking thing there?!

According to my lecturers, the university is putting more emphasis on online learning. While the face-to-face lectures are not mandatory, we are expected to keep ourselves updated online. Some big fuck has decided that only emails of a ‘personal nature’ may be sent to the lecturer’s email accounts. Any other thing, especially pertaining to an academic nature should be posted on the Discussion Board. This is absolutely absurd! Some lecturers DO NOT even check their own email every day. (In case of an emergency we will be dead.) Obviously this racket of a university has never considered the fact that we are all PART-TIME STUDENTS and to impose such unreasonable demands on our time and patience is simply irresponsible and shameless.

If they like to do their online bullshit so much, why the fuck are we paying so much MONEY? To get an *education*?


(1.06pm – or one hour since my last attempt to log):

“Sorry that an error has occurred in the page that you request.”


TELL THAT TO YOUR MOTHER!

Life for Rent

Happy Year of the Ox! Let us hope we don’t have to work like a stupid bovine for our livelihood or look like one…

I am bored.

I know it reads like a stupid gossip column in some equally stupid magazine like Cleo or Her World but what the hell…

A tribute to my ex-colleagues:



Mr. A is 32 years-old and works as an air force technician. Mr. A is a Xtian and involves himself in church activities. He takes home a monthly salary of S$2,400 but his uncontrolled gambling has landed him in debt. He is obliged to repay his banks in installments but this has not deterred him from his high-risk investments in football betting. As a Xtian, Mr. A pays a tithe of 10% of his salary to his church and gives his family S$500 as maintenance every month. Mr. A supplements his income by moonlighting as a car-groomer.

Being nervous when he talks to girls, especially pretty ones, Mr. A hasn’t had a girlfriend in over a decade. Mr. A is infatuated with a girl, D, in his church. Unfortunately D, who is nearly ten years his junior, doesn’t reciprocate his feelings for her. Instead, she fancies another guy in their church. This setback has demoralized Mr. A. Although Mr. A claims he has stopped pursuing her, he is still interested in her. He calls D at every opportunity but lacks the courage to renew his courtship.

Years of church-going has clearly militated his human skills and personal development. Although mediocre in his professional life, Mr. A was promoted to staff sergeant. However, the perception his subordinates and colleagues have for him is not improved by his elevation up the ranks. Instead, their less than favorable opinion of him is mostly tinged with pity, and laced with a small amount of jealousy.

For a man of some thirty years, Mr. A is naïve in certain areas. He looks at life through rose-tinged glasses and shows little inclination in improving himself. His limitations are exposed when he picked up the vice of whoring a month ago. Unbeknownst to himself, he treats his whores like he would his girlfriend. He expects them to give him the ‘girlfriend’ experience and complains when they inevitably fail to do so. While Mr. A acknowledges that whoring is no substitute for a meaningful romantic relationship, subconsciously he attempts to find love in what are essentially monetary transactions. It is also likely that he is as addicted to whoring as he is to gambling. He says he cannot control his urges when he goes any where near a red-light district. This is a man who fails to find reconciliation between his faith and his illicit activities and shows no desire to do so.



Mr. B is 33 years-old and works as a clerk in a security film. He currently takes home $$1,600 monthly. He has a car and a bike. Mr. B is an ex-military man and had also worked as a technician in the semiconductor industry. He is estranged from his wife. The couple has a three-year old son. The couple filed for divorce on the grounds of adultery. Mr. B had admitted to having illicit relations with his ex-colleague. Due to his infidelity, he has to pay alimony of about $800 to his wife and son every month. Several reasons have contributed to the break-up of their marriage: Mr. B’s vindictive mother-in-law, the lack of quality sex, the inability - albeit due to professional reasons - of Mr. B to spend quality time with his family, and his propensity to philander. Mr. B has received the divorce documents from their lawyer and has to make a decision soon. His wife wants him back for the sake of their child. She still loves Mr. B but wants him to affirm his commitment. Mr. B is still vacillating between his family and his girlfriend. He realizes the best thing is to end his relationship with his girlfriend and return to his family. He does not want his son to grow up without a father. However, he loves his girlfriend and talks to her nightly. The said woman is a Chinese national and sometimes Mr. B thinks of divorcing his wife and marrying her instead. However, this course of action will increase Mr. B’s financial burden. Besides the obligatory child support, he has to provide for his girlfriend until she finds a job in Singapore. To exacerbate matters, the wedding expenses and housing loans which inevitably follow will stretch their commitment to each other and their monetary resources. His girlfriend’s parents do not yet know he is a divorcee and it is uncertain how they will react to this revelation if they find out. Mr. B is not completely sure he wants to marry his girlfriend either. His philandering nature makes matrimonial commitment impossible. Assuming he goes back to his family, they have to resolve issues (aforementioned) that caused the breaking up of their marriage. Mr. B is caught in a dilemma and time is not on his side.



Mr. C is 25 years-old and works as an air force technician. Mr. C and his girlfriend plan to get married next year. Mr. C patronizes whorehouses occasionally, but his impending marriage has curtailed his licentious activities. He takes home about S$2,000 monthly and spends a fair portion of his salary on general expenses. His girlfriend has no tertiary education and earns less than her boyfriend. The couple has applied for a flat and is expected to pay $1,000 in monthly installments for their new home. Professionally, Mr. C’s contract with the military ends in 2012. He is not keen and/or confident of renewing his contract. He has no other qualifications apart from his diploma in engineering.

The couple is neither known to invest financially nor are they interested in pursuing professional qualifications. Personality-wise, Mr. C and his girlfriend are hot-tempered people. They are not compromisers and will need to learn to be tolerant if their marriage is to last. It is uncertain if they intend to have children in the near future.



Mr. D is in his mid-thirties. His current life and profession are unknown. He was a technician in the air-force but was dishonorably discharged after being found guilty in a civil court for outraging a woman’s modesty. The exact events that led to Mr. D’s committing his offence are unknown. According to his ex-colleague, Mr. D had a pretty Xtian wife, although he was a non-Xtian. He was, by all appearances, a normal and hardworking person. He invested a substantial amount of his salary on his insurance policies and seemed like a long-term planner. Prior to his moment of madness he displayed no signs of disorder.



Mr. E is 27 years-old and worked as a technician in the air-force. He now works in a state-owned engineering film and takes home $1,600.every month. His wife is a Chinese national/Singapore PR and teaches in a top school. She earns close to S$3,000. They have been married for two years and have already got themselves a flat. Their home is under renovation and they intend to move into it after their traditional Chinese wedding. Unfortunately, Mr. E has second thoughts about his marriage. He doesn’t really love his wife. He complains privately that his Chinese wife, in spite of living in Singapore for the past few years, is still unable to use the public transport system. Her English is still limited and her proficiency with basic computer programs leaves much to be desired. Apparently she has not fully accustomed herself to life in this country.

Mr. E’s dissatisfaction with her is but a symptom of the real problems he endures. Mr. E rushed himself into marriage. He wasn’t emotionally settled when he took the plunge and he isn’t now. To Mr. E, going out with his wife and attending to her needs have become obligations rather than an expression of true love. He said he married young because he wanted to have children before he grows old. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a career and there are many things he hasn’t paid for and not yet planned. The wedding, the house, fixtures and fittings, and miscellaneous spending and daily expenses all cost money. A child is only going to be an added burden.

For all the reasons Mr. E gave, one thing is sure: he is not ready to settle down. This is further illustrated by the fact he has a Vietnamese girlfriend. He is very much in love with her. He flew to Vietnam to spend the weekend with her, met her family and was in tears on the way to the airport. He wanted to break off with her but she messaged to tell him she will love him forever. The sincerity of her claims cannot be verified at this time but it is obvious Mr. E is head over heels for her. He even gave her the money he was supposed to pay for the furniture and now he has to tighten his budget to make up the deficit. Mr. E is like a candle burning at both ends, torn between responsibility and passion.



Is it the profession that makes the man, or the man who makes the profession? I am inclined to believe the former.

More Drivel.

There must be something wrong with my university. There are at least nine seminar classes for Financial Accounting and why in Gehenna did I end up in the same lecture theater as the fucking mutt which I did my Marketing project with? When I saw the whoreson in the washroom I felt nauseous. I nearly left bile on the floor when it walked into the auditorium. I desperately hoped it would not be in my class. It came as a relief when it formed its own group – I was ready to reject this de-evoluted bastard if he accosted me. On a less than humanist note I hope he and his group perish.



I only slept at three in the morning. The online IQ test which Miao directed me to took me quite a while. The last fifteen questions taxed my overstressed brain, the glare from my computer made my eyes blurry, memories of taking examinations during my time in poly came to mind but I persevered like the Chelski under Mourinho. With fifteen minutes to go I had to switch off the radio so that I could fully concentrate. At the end of this draining exercise the site informed me that my IQ was 110. This puts me in the Average range.

I have been regarded by my poly lecturers and superiors in the military as somewhat stupid so the result came as a bit of consolation. Moreover, I have always suspected that my childhood illness had damaged my brain to a certain extent. If this test which comprised pattern recognition questions is reliable, then I should feel happy. For once, I felt normal. However, this gives rise to some interesting things. Assuming my medical ordeal actually damaged my brain, it would mean my general intelligence should have been a lot higher. I still have many questions but they are for another day.



My legs are aching. The football game I had in the morning exhausted me and left me with tired muscles. I tackled and got tackled, played box-to-box, made some challenges and tucked in a few. I was pleased with my fitness and reflexes but the mental attributes of my blokes left me rather disgusted. There were a few who didn’t want to run and defend, preferring to camp themselves up-field. I would not have been this tired had I not covered for them. Maybe I should switch to an individual sport.



My friends discussed about their lives when we had lunch after the game. They talked about the fiction among their friends and their girlfriends so I was mostly left out of their conversation. Health Centre said he’s getting married soon but there are certain problems he and his girlfriend need to sort out. This includes the exorbitant monthly down-payment of their new house and the fact that the lovely couple are hot-tempered people. Things will get worse when they have kids. In fact, I advised my friend not to get married and reproduce. (Actually I was more concerned about the possibility of loosing inferior specimens on an already overburdened society.) Sadly to say, my words fell on deaf ears.

9:0! (My Butt Hurts)

We were whitewashed 9:0 by some ‘uncle’ team yesterday. This catastrophic defeat was demoralizing – not a good start for a new team.

Several of our players played with one another for the first time and it showed. There was a lack of communication. Apart from our keeper, nobody was willing to shout to his teammates. Poor teamwork caused many passes to be misplaced; players were out of position and failed to support their teammates in defence and attack.

We played decently for the first ten minutes but collapsed after they scored their first goal. In truth, they had a few chances and should have scored already. Our centre backs failed to clear the ball and their striker hammered his shot past our goalkeeper via a deflection.

They scored a second after we made another defensive mistake.

Our keeper made a flurry of one-on-one saves but was shockingly penalized for shouting to his defenders. Our wall disintegrated and they slipped the free kick in.

We conceded a fourth before the break.

During half-time we spoke about what went wrong in the firs half. Lance tried to put a positive spin on things but I doubted anybody was actually listening. There was a sense of defeat but we consoled ourselves. Apparently we expected it because this was the first time we played together. Talk about being positive.

The second half saw a shocking deterioration in our play. After I dived to head the cross wide from six yards following fantastic movement on the left flank, we went to hell. They dominated the play and we didn’t and couldn’t get stuck in. Our No. 18 tried his best to hold the central midfield but he fought against overwhelming odds.

They kept pressing and scored a few goals in quick succession. The myopic ref contributed to our decline but we were primarily at fault in this debacle. First, they won most of the high balls. Many of us seemed to fear aerial challenges and there was nobody to pick up the loose balls. Second, as a unit we weren’t compact enough. We spread our lines apart and didn’t put enough pressure on them. Third, our propensity to play the ball to the left was a weakness. We didn’t switch play. My winger was so depressed he asked me to play up while he took my right-back position. I didn’t have much luck either. Nobody wanted to pass the ball to the right (perhaps we had rabies)? Fourth, our defence were at sixes and sevens. Our inability to hold a tight line, compounded by the ease in which they bypassed our midfield, meant that we were constantly on the back foot. Fifth, our lack of fitness was absolutely disgraceful. Most of us are in our early twenties and to be given the run-about by a team at least several years our senior was appalling.

There were other problems, such as our inability to defend set pieces. They got a couple from set-plays because some people played with a lot of fear. Fear of the player he was marking and fear of his own ability to deal with the incoming ball.

Six or seven goals down our keeper decided he had enough and swapped positions with our left-back (also a keeper). It didn’t help matters; we were pushing for a consolation. We had a free kick but we failed to capitalize on it. Then we had a corner and my challenge on the keeper carried the ball over the line – no goal. I somehow took a knock on my butt and my hip flexors hurt abominably. I asked to be substituted because their winger on my side was fast and I didn’t want to deal with him without my pace.

We let in more goals. It could have hit a two-digit result but our stand-in keeper made a few very good stops. Their bench were very excited throughout the game. They were gloating and it was hard to take. (They will pay for it one day.)

In the end, the result, if you didn’t know already: Nine to nothing.


The Referee

In football, it is customary to blame the referee after a defeat:

The ref was undoubtedly the Man of the Match. They were playing with 12 men and the extra man counted. During half-time the ref went into their dressing room. We don’t know what he was doing there but after the interval more decisions went their way.

The other team were awarded an indirect free kick after the ref adjudged that our keeper’s shout to his defenders to leave the ball was ‘illegitimate’. (You mean the keeper CANNOT COMMUNICATE with his defenders?!) They scored from the free kick. We protested to the ref but he claimed that he had taken a ‘course’ and if we weren’t happy we could verify it with the Football Association of Singapore (FAS). Either he was a lying bastard or the examiners at the FAS were a bunch of imbeciles. It is likely that the only course he had taken was an ‘intercourse’ in Geylang. It was obvious he could not score in a whorehouse.

His inability to read time on his watch was an indictment of his sheer incompetence. We played the first half in 30 minutes. He realized his mistake (maybe someone told him) and we played close to an hour in the second.

They were never ruled offside in the game. Every ball they played to their forwards was a brilliant through ball and if they were ten yards beyond our defensive line, it was because they had the breathtaking speed to take them ten yards in a split second. Usain Bolt beware!

I challenged their keeper for a corner. He caught the ball just on the goal-line but our momentum carried him and the ball over the line. Despite calls for a goal, the ref hurriedly waved for the keeper to GET OUT and kick it away. He wore a worried look on his face and I think maybe there were some things he didn’t want to look too closely at – or admit.

Towards the end of the game the ref allowed the other team to make substitutions but denied us the chance to do so. It was inexplicable. Obviously he was on the books and maybe if we had paid him more than what he was offered, it could have gone the other way.

The ref shouldn’t have gotten paid for his abject and dubious performance. If anything, he should compensate us. This is the last time we are getting this idiot.


I can’t wait for our next game. I hope we won’t get a moron for a ref. Never mind the trashing. If we apply ourselves properly I don’t see why we can’t get a positive result.

Ranting

Yesterday was a day for ranting.

My exercise started in the morning, when I talked to the Lass about the girl she wrote about on her blog. Infuriated at the cunt’s elitist and condescending attitude, I lambasted her. Surely, being the daughter of an overpaid politician does not give her the right to shoot her cunt off like her father’s prick depends on it. The Lass had to tell me to stop, such was my vehemence.

The Shite Times reported that a man was arrested for scribbling ‘Harry, I love you.’ on the wall outside the Parliament House. Somebody should have told him that Valentine’s Day is on the 14th of February; there was no need to be so desperate. It was a man who professed his love for Harry. Will we see a repeal of Section 377A?

The year 2009 is going to be a catastrophic but interesting year, if we judge by the early signs. The Gaza war and the economic crisis have spilled over to the new year. A local politician landed in hospital after a 70 year-old man mistook him for a candle. Then some hero openly stated his love for our despot. More jobs are expected to be lost after the Chinese New Year. Analysts say the worst of the recession will hit us during June. The Singapore Flyer, lauded by the authorities as the biggest in the world, is still inoperative after it stopped and left its passengers steaming in their cabins for six hours. In fact, there is an air of quiet desperation in the streets. The gulf between rich and poor is as wide as the footballing standards between Iran and Singapore (the ‘Lions’ were trashed 6:0 in Tehran). Laws are more draconian. Foreigners will overtake locals soon and one day, over 90% of our newborn babies will be born to couples whom one or both are foreigners. The aging population will balloon, medical expenses will skyrocket and our basic wages, stagnant and their numbers cast in stone will drive more people to remain single, or at least, to refrain from procreating. Transportation, education and living costs will make life unbearable. The rich will become richer faster; the poor will be poorer faster. Soon, the merchandise in GL, on the streets and fish tanks will comprise locals, many of whom are pursuing their studies.

I think I’m too far ahead. Damn.

Chicken and I had our dinner in GL after my job interview. He told me that they are tightening laws on littering. A piece of tissue carelessly flung to the ground can land you an appearance in court. Previously, people who are over 50 – 60 were let off with a warning if they were caught littering. Now it’s straight away $200 in the regime’s pocket. I ranted that the law should have compassion. With times as bad as they are now, tightening the noose around the citizenry’s necks with tougher laws and increasing ERP and other transportation costs will inflict more misery on the people. Chicken just shrugged. Two middle-aged women tried to sell us tissue papers while we were eating. This is what a FIRST CLASS COUNTRY is all about. Instead of comparing ourselves with fucked-up countries like Sudan, Somalia and Ethiopia, why don’t we compare ourselves to truly first world countries like Canada and Sweden? You heard of any Canadian reduced to peddling overpriced tissue papers just to survive in their old age?!

Here, I am ranting again.

When I logged on my university website to access my course materials, I was aghast to find that I couldn’t print my seminar notes. I got some fancy interactive program in place of notes for one of my Law modules, and I could find only e-copies of the guidebooks used in my three main modules. I cursed and swore at my computer, viciously lambasting my bloody university. Goddamn it! Just give me some notes to fucking study! I CAN PAY!

My timetable consoled me somewhat. Most of my lectures will be held in SP. I’d rather they don’t use the university compound for my next two years of study. It will make life so much easier for me. I can get off at the Dover station instead of taking the train to Clementi and then take another bus to UniShit. Moreover, I shall have no difficulty navigating our way around my alma mater. I will be back in SP after graduating a decade ago. I never expected it.

My university is taking in so many students that it has to expand its operations. The management must be rolling in dough. I regret not pursuing a career in education. The money is free and easy, and most importantly, from an egoistic point of view, people are paying to hear me speak.

I talked to Pearl afterwards. My ranting continued. I started off by saying how engineering sucks, followed by a discourse (I’m putting it a bit too nicely) about my troubled teen years and my suffering in my *career*. I also said I was wrong in not living my life when I was younger, instead falling into the fallacy of long term planning and responsibility. The Israelis can teach us a good lesson about what life should be, and what it’s all about. They face the threat of death and war every day but the sword hanging over their heads has not stopped them from daring to live, to express, to love, to seek, to dream and to fight. Indeed, why should I buy some fucking insurance/investment policies so that I can retire comfortably thirty years down the road and deprive myself from spending the money on doing what I like in the meantime? For all I know I may die in a car crash tomorrow. Why not enjoy life as much as you can when you are young and able, instead of hoping you will be able to ravish life just as keenly in your dotage? I remember a section of the ‘Good Book’ making a similar point, about the need to enjoy your youth, for death may come unannounced. I should have studied the book a bit closer when I was younger.

Pearl said that I belong to the ‘Strawberry’ generation. I’m not sure exactly what she meant but I agreed with her on her views that I am somewhere between Xers and Nexters. The Generations X and Y believe in striking a balance between work and play. They value material things and careers but also cherish relationships. Maybe I had been thinking like a baby-boomer for much of my existence and paid the price for it. Chicken told me after watching Jim Carrey’s Yes Man that we should live like we have only a fortnight left. I think he is right. Why wait until you are balding, unable to see without reading glasses, weak of hearing, slowed of reflexes and struggling to maintain healthy? You can give me a Ferrari but the thrill will not be the same. You can offer me the most gorgeous hussies, but will I be up to the task?

I read Miao’s blog after I talked to Pearl. She posted a rather touching story about a man who talked about education in a very hopeful and optimistic way. The feel-good spirit in the article stirred my cynicism and I left some comments. I couldn’t help myself. It was all I could do not to rant, rave and berate the writer of the article for being a moralistic, hypocritical and sanctimonious bastard who is now WTM-ing in some ministry and earning tons of money for his perceived efforts in promoting education and learning.

Jianyue talked to me online about his faculty and asked me some questions about football and sports in ASEAN. He said over half of his newsroom(?) members are Xtians and I told him that it is inexplicable that Art students can be so dumb. They should replace the idiots in his faculty with engineering students who are suffering in theirs. It should raise the general intelligence and standards in his faculty. Or maybe there’s not a good idea. The stronger competition will mean that it is harder for my friend to get at least an Upper in his Honours degree.

Moving on, I narrated to him about the conversation I had with a cab driver who once worked as an engineer and used it as a platform to rant at the way we treat engineers in this crap cuntry. About sports, I ranted about the state of the footballing standards in the ASEAN region, and the lack of quality of any sporting tournament run by the morons heading ASEAN sporting federations. What else did I rant about? I think that’s about it.

I’m going to stop my drivel now. Break.

Talk to the Hand!

I finally collected my university textbooks this morning. This season I have two Law modules, another two on Accounting, and one ‘enrichment module’ on Personal Financial Planning. After flipping through the pages I came to the conclusion that I will have many orgasmic experiences in the next few months.

The Law textbook is filled with legal jargon that will excite any law student with masochistic tendencies. At first impression it is almost like sales. If you can’t convince them, confuse them. There are many precedent cases of ‘Sue Your Ass Vs Cover My Ass’ which serve as ammo in any legal battle. If this does not work, legal wranglers (in this case, clueless part-time students) can combine legal jargon with powerful English and try to obfuscate one’s arguments as much as possible to confuse both judge and opposition. Do whatever you must to win. In the end the winner walks away with the cash, the losers go to hell. Business ethics is an oxymoron. My friend said I should have no problems with Law. He also confidently said that he could manage his university studies – before he dropped out. Oh joy.

Accounting may drive me to leap off a tall building. I scored a D7 for Principles of Accounts in my ‘O’ Levels and I hope history does not repeat itself. The debit and credit columns, the many accounts that link to the balance sheet, the subjectivity of whether some cost is fixed, sunk or variable – I shudder to think how I am going to cope. By the end of the season, I hope my efforts will account to a pass. Make that two.

I took up Personal Financial Planning because it has only two seminars. Thinking with Mathematics is a one shot module but I may be inspired to use the textbook when I run out of toilet paper. I really hate maths. With the worst of the economic crisis looming, I feel quite amused that I am learning Financial Planning. Stupid policies by some overpaid big shots in the banking and financial sector can leave you jobless and bereft of support, whether you have sound financial planning. The book was quite funny. There is a line in the paragraph about retiring at age 51 – 60:”Even the rocking chair can get boring eventually.”; the retirees should take up part-time work. I suppose picking up empty cans at food centres, scavenging cigarette butts and beer bottles from rubbish bins, and selling tissue papers on the streets are much more interesting than that plain old silly and boring rocking chair. Apparently, so is going to Geylang, judging by the number of senior citizens who do their 'shopping' there.


Speaking of GL, my Xtian friend, Police Car just cannot get enough whoring. Chicken and I met him a few days ago. We went to a movie but he lost interest halfway into the film. Police Car claimed he was running a slight fever, but his illness did not dissuade him from visiting a ‘fish tank’. After he had his pleasure, Police Car proclaimed that his fever was cured. I don’t know how to explain his miraculous recovery. Maybe Gawd did it.

Police Car told us that he went to a massage parlor in Orchard Towers last Friday. It was a sleazy establishment – the whore charged only $30 for a hand-job. Evidently impressed with the service provided by the aforementioned professional, Police Car tipped her an additional $20. She was so happy she asked him to be her boyfriend. (Chicken and I rolled our eyes in disbelief. Both of us thought ‘carrot-head’.)

Since that Saturday night when he had his first whore, Police Car has gone whoring four times in three weeks. Although Chicken and I believe he is better off spending his money on whores instead of giving it to his overfed pastor, we feel Police Car has succumbed to yet another vice. His prior investments in the EPL and Spanish league have enriched his bookmakers while reducing the size of his treasury. His tithe to the church and his new hobby will compound his financial woes. He is lucky that he is currently wasting taxpayers’ money (WTM) in the military and getting well compensated for his lack of effort. Were he a civilian, he would be eating grass in no time. Personal Financial Planning for Police Car then! I jest.

Anyway, where whoring is concerned, there are no limits to the hypocrisy the religious deploy in order to assuage their conscience. Police Car justifies his whoring by some very agile ethical gymnastics. On one hand he expresses sympathy for the whores who spread their legs to strange men for a living. On the other, he argues that this moral outrage is alleviated by the amount of money these whores will earn at the end of a few years of prostitution. They know what they are doing. They have families back home to feed (that ennobles their sacrifices) and they will end up rich when they return home (prostitution is now a very profitable career). Nobody will know that they have been whores. The girls will find some guy to settle down with, start a small business and live happily ever after. (Why isn’t my paper mill of a university coming up with a Bsc in Prostitution?) Still, he pities the girls because he is apparently a compassionate Xtian. (So why is he exploiting them and then complaining that so-and-so girl was bad because she didn’t allow him to kiss her?)


I have been writing left-handed for the past few days. While going down a trail on my bicycle, the chain skipped and my bike bounced precariously. I tried to slow my descent by pressing the brake but the slope was terribly steep and undulated by rocks, furrows and small crevices. My bike skidded sideways and I went with it. I was thrown off and I instinctively broke my fall with my right palm. It was bleeding like hell. Chicken returned and bandaged my hand with my handkerchief and he guided me to the village. On our way there I rode into a muddy ditch when I failed to negotiate a bend. I escaped unscathed.

At the NEA office Chicken applied alcohol to my wounds. It hurt abominably. One officer said I was lucky. Over the years, people have either died or ended up in hospital. His friend cracked dirty jokes with me. I looked at him and knew he was a staunch patron of GL. He must have a wonderful time doing his WTM job, which mainly comprises ogling sweet young things and taking smoking breaks.

(If you do not wish to look at my palm, you can just stop at the cat. I met this darling at a Chinese shrine last week.)

How sweet...

Last warning. Please, before you lose your dinner.

Included for the sake of completeness.