Drivel

On Daisies

2006-08-27T02:14:00.000+08:00

Elle m'aime un peu, beaucoup, passionnément, à la folie, pas du tout...

Byakuya

2006-08-02T01:30:00.000+08:00

Kuchiki Byakuya rocks, nuff said. He's the head of one of the four noble families in Soul Society, and certainly fights in a manner befitting someone of his class. Notice his scarf around his neck as he fights (its a family heirloom that's worth several houses), as well as the cherry blossom attacks. Awesome shit!

Bankai

Byakuya and Yachiru

Byakuya Tribute

CBS is great...

2006-06-13T22:09:00.000+08:00

Watch this spoof about Ben Bernanke done by the MBA students of Columbia Business School (CBS). It's freaking hilarious, a definite must watch. Yes, I know I'm a month late, and I blame my friends, especially one Columbia bound academician (no Taida shirt for you =P).

On a side note, just yesterday I was arguing with Kok Heng about the importance of emphasisng a brand's positioning strategy in advertisements, and that relying solely on catchy jingles (which seems to be the fad these days) that don't strengthen a brand's position is a waste of marketing budget.

I stand corrected. Who needs HBS or Wharton - repeat after me, CBS is great, wouldn't change his fate, CBS is great, wouldn't change his fate, CBS is great..

Winter

2005-12-22T14:44:00.000+08:00

I was chatting with Janice yesterday, and since, as of two days ago, I official became part anglophile, I saw it fit to talk about the weather (in Taipei, where I’m currently on vacation).

Me: Terrible weather here. Really terrible.
Janice: Oh really? How so?
Me: Freezing cold here. You won’t believe how cold it is.
Janice: Better wear more warm clothing then. Is it snowing?
Me: It’s 15 degrees.
Janice: …
Janice: 15 degrees?
Me: Yes, mightily cold don’t you think?
Janice: Daniel, in America, we go jogging in shorts in 15 degrees.

An affront to my manhood, a veritable affront, she has committed! To redeem my pride, I shall go streaking around Taipei. If I should die of Pneumonia or get executed for indecent exposure, I shall come back and haunt her while wearing a red overcoat!!!
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Just kidding… I won’t wear red – white goes better with my skin.

PS: As with most conversations quoted on my blog, probably only 50% of it is accurate. I have a bad memory.

Domestication

2005-12-22T10:06:00.000+08:00

Of late, as my nearest and dearest and generally anyone within audible range can attest, I’m fallen in love with Pride and Prejudice. Not to mention Keira Knightly. Thus, when Focus Features remade my all-time favorite romance novel and cast my all-time favorite female actress in it, it was hardly surprising that it turned me into a slobbering, waxing lyrical fan boy.

In fact, I’ve decided to name my first-born, if she happens to be female, Elizabeth. Of course, this presupposes I overcoming my intense hatred for children, but considering that up till early last year, I was still actively contemplating eternal singlehood, I think there’s a high chance of that happening.

One more step down the slippery slope of domestication…

University Application

2005-12-20T16:56:00.000+08:00

If there’s one university application question that’s incredibly irritating yet unbelievably ubiquitous, it's “Tell us why you want to study at xxx College/University.” Not only is it narcissistic, it’s almost bound to elicit a stock answer thus making it rather redundant. But have no fear, I’m here to provide you with different answers that are almost certain to be efficacious…

Brown:

“It’s my favourite colour”

Harvard:

“For one, I heard students get incredible support from the faculty. Wait a minute, I’m in Cambridge, Cambridgeshire right”

Oxford:

“Two words: Emma Watson”
“It’s my dream to study at Hogwarts… opps, I mean Oxford”

Princeton:

“Because I don’t want to be taught by TAs and I want to be able to walk out of campus without being stabbed”
“Social life ought to be good. After all, Princeton’s school mascot is a pussy”

Yale:

“Because Harvard Sucks and Princeton doesn’t matter”
“I’m gay” (Disclaimer): I’m STRAIGHT. This is not something I would use!

Of course, efficacious only if you want a particular outcome …

Duels

2005-11-20T00:51:00.000+08:00

For the longest time I’ve been dreaming of living in the Victorian era. The country houses, the lavish balls, the pretentious mannerisms; surely it must all fit me. Alas, I’m stuck here in the mundane present where people gyrate in smoke-filled rooms instead of waltzing in chandelier-lit ballrooms. Not to mention they don’t even bow or curtsy when asking for a dance. Oh, for humanity’s sake!

Indeed, I had written off society as a cesspool of moral deprivation. Thus imagine my astonishment when Mr. Pang challenged me to a duel. How quaint, thought I, but how much pleasure it must surely afford. “Rapiers or pistols,” enquired I, adding that my second would meet his to arrange the time and terms of the duel.

“Neither,” replied he, “Warcraft III will do fine. And no seconds.”

No seconds, no pistols, no rapiers. Unheard of, thought I, but I soon decided that these could be overlooked. History was, after all, in the making, or rather, re-making.

Thus began the fateful duel to the death…

To those unfamiliar with Warcraft III, the first order of the day is to choose a race and a hero. Now, my worthy opponent chose the savage Orcs, which, in my opinion, while possessing fearsome combat abilities, possess even more fearsome eating habits. Indeed, their table-manners, or lack of, still send a chill down my spine. However, though reluctant, I had to, in the spirit of fairness, choose the same race as my opponent.

I chose the Far-Seer as my hero, an obvious choice seeing he was the only “mounted” hero. Sure, riding on a wolf is not exactly the same as riding a horse, but it was better than running around on foot. Why, I may have gotten my boots dirtied.

Once properly equipped, heroes start “Creeping,” an activity almost analogous to hunting. Heroes look for prey to hunt and gain items and experience in the process, but unlike the rabbits and foxes in the gentlemanly sport of hunting, creeps bite back. They really ought to know their place in society. Appalling manners really.

But their indecorum was soon eclipsed by the behaviour of my opponent, Mr. Pang, who soon arrived at the grounds where I was hunting creeps. Etiquette dictated that one should wait one’s turn when hunting. I was there first, and I naturally expected him to find his own creep but, to my great shock, he promptly shot at my prey! How rude, thought I, and just as I was about to confront him, he attacked me!

What an utter lack of decorum! What an affront to civil society!

Disclaimer: For those who don’t get it, this post is meant to be farcical. The truth is that I got pwned by the better player, and I don’t see any shame in that. Kudos to Terence, and subsequently Wan Yuan.

English Accents

2005-11-12T01:50:00.000+08:00

This morning, while surfing through the Jon Stewart videos, I found a recent clip of Keira Knightly appearing in his celebrity interview segment. Ten minutes later, I found myself hopelessly infatuated by her golden tresses, her winsome appearance, her sharp wit, and most of all, her British accent. Of all the accents in the world, nothing appeals to my aural senses more than the vocal inflexion of an Anglo-Saxon, but hers was even more special.

It is on such occasions that I curse myself for not applying to Oxbridge. Indeed a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions.

Bad News for Bush

2005-11-04T14:41:00.000+08:00

These make my day.

With any luck, control of the Senate will revert back to the Democrats during the 2006 mid-term elections, giving liberals the power to kickstart investigations regarding the Iraq debacle. This isn't quite the blame game that the Republicans like to accuse the left-wing of, but the issue of accountability (which incidentally is the phrase Republicians touted almost ubiquitously during the Monica Lewinsky scandal).

In 2000, Bush ran on the electoral pledge of "restoring honour and dignity to the White House." Well, with any luck, they will be restored in the White House, but perhaps not quite the way Bush had expected.

GOP

2005-11-02T18:14:00.000+08:00

And the tides have once again shifted to favour the Democrats, courtesy of a bold manoeuvre by Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid.

Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist (the person shown above) had this to say. "This is an affront to me personally. This is an affront to our leadership. It is an affront to the United States of Amserica, and it is wrong."

Or, if I may summarise, "I've been owned."

Republicans have been crying foul over this development, calling it a stunt designed to draw media attention away from the recent White House nomination of Samuel Alito to the Supreme Court. While some may consider this to be hypocritical as the said nomination came a few days after what pundits described as "Bush's worst week," we must conclude that this cannot be so as only Democrats pull stunts; Republicans are way too honorable to stoop to the same level as their liberal counterparts.

Yessir, the GOP stands for accountability, honour, and ethics, except when it came to Katrina. And Plamegate. And Tom Delay. And Haliburton. Yessir, the GOP stands for all these values, except when Republicans are involved; but on all other occasions, you can count on them to be beacons of moral rectitude and deliverers of justice.

Cooking To-do List

2005-11-02T00:40:00.000+08:00

Recipes to try in November:

1) Potato and Leek soup
2) Tomato Gazpacho
3) Mushroom Pasta
4) Dijon Chicken

Stanford

2005-11-01T01:40:00.000+08:00

The deed is finally done. My Stanford application has been submitted, signalling a close to a year of constant preparation and a month of intense essay revision. Yet strangely, the attendant emotions were neutered; to be sure, I felt a sense of relief and happiness, but nothing close to the rapturous euphoria one would expect. Anti-climatic, to say the least but probably understandable, given my growing pessimism about my admission chances.

[Korean Adventure] Memories

2005-09-07T11:28:00.000+08:00

It’s been said so often that it has nearly become a cliché: it’s amazing how one can make such amazing friendships, how one can bond so strongly to people who were strangers just weeks ago, in the span of just two weeks.

I had the pleasure of personally experiencing the aforementioned, not once but twice, the latest being during the APEC Youth Plaza in Korea. I’ve been putting off posting a full post about my experience there, possibly because the memories, when juxtaposed against the slavery of National Service, induce nostalgia, longing and sadness.

Oh how sweet these memories are, how special they are!! I remember dancing Salsa with Colleen to the rock music emanating from a Korean DDR machine. I remember setting off fireworks and releasing paper boats along the Han River with Cindy and Jinny. I remember discussing horses and Mongolia with Laura by the seaside. I remember trying to dance Cha Cha (and failing terribly because I didn’t have the confidence to lead) with Brigitte. I remember drinking ~~a little~~ a lot with ~~Ronin~~ everyone on ~~the first day~~ every single day of the conference. I remember playing Korean drinking games with practically everyone, French games with Pierre, Simole, Melissa and co, and Chinese games with Tracy. I remember going up to a girl on a dare to try a Korean pickup line, which was both embarrassing and interesting. I remember gushing over 김태희 and전지현 with ~~Moon and Jyun~~ all the Korean and Japanese guys. I remember the goodbye scenes in the subway, the rush of air portending the arrival of the train, the chimed in sad music, the tears in our eyes and the feeling of despair and sadness.

To be continued…

[Korean Adventure] Memorable Quotes

2005-09-02T23:59:00.000+08:00

Inspired by Pin’s post, I’ve decided to post some of the more memorable conversations I had or listened to during my two weeks at the APEC Youth Plaza. A word of caution: my memory faculty, damaged by two years of stupidity also affectionately know as National Service, isn’t what it used to be and thus, if you spot any misquoting, do forgive me (I emphasise that embellishment is not my aim).

PS: I will be using pseudonyms to hide some of the identities.

See: *random comment about Korean drinking parties*
Me: When in Korea, do as the Koreans do.
Dantes: When in Korea, do the Koreans.

Vishal: Do you know what’s better than alcohol?
Steve: Sex?
Vishal: Dude, no… More alcohol!

Stephanie, who has already drank a lot, lost another bout of the drinking game we were playing.
Daniel Smith: Hey Stef, just get someone to drink it for you.
Stephanie: Hey! I’m Canadian. *proceeds to finish the shot in front of her*

Anonymous Korean Girl: Sorry for whining so much. Haha, typical girl behaviour.
Anonymous Playboy: No problem. I believe they call it 공주* in Korean?
Anonymous Korean Girl (blushes and giggles): Thank you.
Anonymous Playboy: Oh wait, I think I remembered the wrong phrase. It ought to be공주병**.
Anonymous Korean Girl: What!!!

*공주 means Princess
**공주병 means Princess Disease

John is only 18, but he is highly intelligent and will be applying to Princeton this year. Unfortunately, he hails from Texas and is an ardent Bush supporter.
John: I believe in freedom and democracy.
Pin: And how do you define freedom and democracy?
John: Freedom and democracy is what we gave the Iraqis.
*To avoid getting slapped with an Adult Rating for violence and gore, I shall not describe the ensuing bloodbath. However, I can reveal that he was verbally hammered by seven liberals who were all decidedly anti-Bush. Use your own imagination*

SAT Essay

2005-09-02T10:10:00.000+08:00

Do you think that ease does not challenge us and that we need adversity to help us discover who we are?

The annals of history are replete with examples of figures who had to undergo tremendous hardships or face herculean challenges before being successful; history often implies that they have been shaped irrevocably by it, and that only through hardships did they truly find themselves. I agree but to a certain extent.

It is true that when Man is thrusted into a difficult situation, he has to adapt or face failure. He will discover certain traits about himself which may not be so readily apparent in times of prosperity. Perhaps he has nerves of steels or maybe steel-like determination? Perhaps he crumbles under pressure or maybe he has a proclivity for blame-shifting. Adversity becomes both a sieve and an x-ray, but does that necessarily mean we can discover who we are?

Man is a multi-faceted creature: saying that he reacts well to adversity paints neither a complete nor accurate picture. Traits that one may demonstrate during adversity need not neccessarily remain when the black crowd of gloom dissipates: in fact, many historical leaders who so successfully rose to the challenge during adversity quickly became figures of dissipation when prosperity and success reigned.

Simply put, Man exhibits different traits for different situations, and while they are not mutually exclusive, they may not be intimately linked. Tom may be insufferably cranky in crunch times but may be extremely mild-tempered in boom times. Thus, while adversity allows us to discover another side of ourselves, its effect is hardly as all-reaching as some would claim.

Addendum:
Necessarily not neccessarily
Thrust not thrust

Can success be disastrous?

2005-08-31T13:19:00.000+08:00

In order to prepare for the SAT 1 test, I'll be writing at least one essay daily. I'll be posting them online too (complete with all the grammar, vocabularly and spelling errors)--- I know they are pretty shitty, but do allow for the fact that I only have 25 mins to write them.

Can success be disastrous?

Can success, sweet success, ever be bad, or even disastrous? Can the accomplishment of our goals, our dreams, ever be bad, or even disastrous? I believe that success is by and large good, yet it is not perfect, for success can sometimes be detrimental to either our ownselves or to the wider community or the world.

Man is not perfect: we are sometimes driven by emotions to do things which may not be in our best interests. A person who has caught his spouse committing adultery may be overwhelmed by anger and wish, desperately, to kill them. Should he succeed, he will face either a lifetime of incarceration or the electric chair for a decision driven by emotions which he, in a clearer state of mind, may regret. When our rational facilities fail to function and we act on our emotions, success may ultimately be disastrous.

Success confers on us a sense of pride and confidence; yet too much success can also confer on us the evil cousins of pride and confidence: arrogance and complacency, twin terrors which often suffice to ensure disaster in the future. The annals of history are replete with tales of all-conquering generals who fall to an inferior army precisely because they, swell-headed by past successes, underestimated their enemies.

Sometimes, when considering the net effects of success, we have to evaulate the results on both the person and his surroundings. Consider Hitler and his worl war two campaign: had Operation Sea Lion or Operation Barraossa succeed, would the allied forces be able to stop him, to stop his genocide, to stop his inhumane treatment of citizens and POWs alike? His success would
lead to a castaclysmic results on the rest of the world. Should the Al-Qaeda succeed in detonating a dirty bomb in down town New York, in Paris, in the Hague, the ensuing chaos, loss of life and the inevitable Western/Middle Eastern divide would be disastrous.

Thus, while success can sometimes be good, it can also be disastrous.

Addenedum: Damn, so many blatant mistakes. I really need to allocate sometime for a final run-through.

Infighting

2005-08-13T22:50:00.000+08:00

A house divided against itself cannot stand.

We may now travel via motorised-carriages instead of horse-carriages, but the validity of Abraham Lincoln’s historic mantra hasn’t changed. Throughout the ages, infighting only brings ruin or diminished returns, yet Man has been unable to eradicate it, for pushing one’s agenda over another usually seems to be one’s dominant strategy.

Yet the tapestry of history is also replete with epics about legendary leaders who unified fractious factions, built empires and brought about prosperity for their citizens. Genghis Khan united the querulous Mongolian tribes; Ottoman von Bismarck created a central power from the fractious German hordes. These great statesmen had similar qualities, among which the charm to induce cooperation and the iron-will to crush dissent.

And now, as my office begins to resemble a cauldron of egos and differing agendas (with a dash of internal bickering), I wonder whether a leader with the aforementioned qualities will emerge from the chaos.

It shall be interesting to watch from the sidelines.

Resolution

2005-07-28T02:16:00.000+08:00

Until I have finished the first draft of my university application essay, I shall abstain from the following activities.

1) Blogging activities of all kinds (writing and reading)
2) All webcomics and online manga (good bye Naruto, Order of the Stick)
3) All television programmes and movies
4) All computer and console games

In essence, I shall be ripped away from most of the activities that siphon away my precious time from the important task at hand. Sigh, looks like next week will be tough.

City-CentreTraffic: N-Player PD?

2005-07-26T16:47:00.000+08:00

I swear that there is an ongoing conspiracy to make me give up Krispy Cream for Crème Brule, Hamburgers for Pork Knuckles, Broadway for West End, Sex and the City for Coupling, etc. I swear, if they don’t stop soon, I may soon find myself at Heathrow instead of JFK Airport

But then again, why limit my options, I thought to myself, and thus, I decided to research Oxford’s Economics department. I didn’t find much useful material pertaining to the undergraduate application, but I did stumble across a collection of research papers written by the professors there. Talk about looking for a few grams of gold and finding the mother lode.

One paper which I found particularly interesting was a study which sought to disprove the representation of city-centre traffic as an n-player Prisoner Dilemma.

“Impressed by the elegance of the PD theory, social policy theorists have too casually assumed that the PD provides an adequate analogy for real-world social dilemmas, such as the traffic problem or, more recently, panic -buying of fuel (Hallsworth & Tolley, 2000).”

Let us first start with a two player game. Let us first assume that there are only two people in the city, Tom and I, who wish to enter the city centre, and that they can choose to drive or not to drive (take the public transport, walk, cycle, etc). We assume that the roads are so narrow that having two cars on the same road causes enough congestion to hamper both drivers.

Let X_Y be the term used to represent each person and his preferred mode of transport (X to represent the mode and Y to represent the person). For example, D_T would represent a case when Tom is driving and N_I would represent a case when I’m not driving.

In order for payoff,

For Tom: D_TN_I > N_TN_I > D_TD_I > N_TD_I
For Me: D_IN_T > N_IN_T > D_ID_T > N_ID_T

The best case for Tom (he gains the most utility) would occur when he drives and I don’t, since he would enjoy both the mobility of a car and not be boggled down with traffic congestion caused by two cars on the road.

The next best situation would be if both of us don’t drive since we would both reach the city centre without suffering the negative effects of private transport caused by others (congestion, pollution, etc).

The third best situation would be both of us driving. While relative to this situation, the two of us would prefer to cooperate and both not drive, if the other drives, our best option is to drive as well. This would be preferable, from Tom’s viewpoint, to a case when Tom takes public transport while I drive, the worst of the four possible outcomes.

The table below shows a more graphical representation of the case, where the first number refers to my payoff and the second number refers to Tom’s payoff. The higher the number, the greater the value of the payoff.

	Tom Doesn’t Drive	Tome drives
I Don’t Drive	(3,3)	(1,4)
I Drive	(4,1)	(2,2)

From the table, it can be inferred that if Tom doesn’t drive, then I can reap maximum benefits by driving. It can also be inferred that if Tom drives, I can reap maximum benefits by driving, although the benefits reaped in such a situation would be lesser than the previous one. Thus, mine dominant strategy is to drive since regardless of what Tom does, I reap maximum benefits.

Tom would think in a similar way, and thus choose to drive too. Thus, both of us would end up driving, reaping a (2,2) payoff even though both of us would prefer to cooperate and reap a (3,3) payoff. That is the irony of the PD, that when both of act rationally to maximise our payoff, the converse happens.

The same concept can be extended to a multiplayer game as long as driving remains a dominant strategy. Do note that that the payoff takes into account all factors including time taken, convenience, cost, cultural reasons, etc. Thus, while everyone has different preferences, we assume an averaged payoff for the general populace which encompasses all these factors.

Table 1.1

	Populace Doesn’t Drive	Populace Drives
I Don’t Drive	(3,3)	(1,4)
I Drive	(4,1)	(2,2)

This leads to traffic congestion as everyone chooses to drive. The same concept can be used to explain phenomena like why everybody rushes to withdraw money from the bank during a depression upon hearing rumours of its insolvency (which leads to its actual insolvency in the absence of vast amount of reserves or governmental intervention).

Or can it?

The authors of the paper go on to disprove the generalisation of n-player PD from 2-player PD in traffic conditions using vigorous statistical methods. I shan’t harp on that but shall instead write about my take on the issue.

In the two player game, we assumed that if both Tom and I drove, the congestion caused would lead to a diminished payoff, which would happen if the roads to the city centre were extremely narrow. Thus, we can infer that there must be a certain threshold congestion point, below which the populace can drive without causing significant diminished payoffs. What is the game like for such congestions?

Table 1.2

	Populace Doesn’t Drive	Populace Drives
I Don’t Drive	(2,2)	(1,4)
I Drive	(4,1)	(3, 3)

Driving remains a dominant strategy (Table 1.2) and this quickly leads to a build-up in traffic, bringing it to the equilibrium point (represented by the Table 1.1), and beyond. However, I assert that past the equilibrium point, the payoffs shown in Table 1.1 do not hold. Let us first consider another two player game between Tom and me, but this time when the roads to the city centre is already crowded.

Table 1.3

	Tom Doesn’t Drive	Tom Drives
I Don’t Drive	(4,4)	(3,2)
I Drive	(2,3)	(1,1)

In this case, I assume that if I’m driving, I’m made worse off if Tom drives as well since he adds to the congestion and pollution (the marginal effect is small but since I will be generalising to a n-player game, I think it’s best to include it). The same logic can be used to explain why if I don’t drive, I’m made worse off if Tom drives.

Unlike the game shown in Table 1.1, the dominant strategy when the roads are already congested is to not drive.

Let us now consider the n-player game. Assume that traffic conditions have been deteriorating since Monday, and yesterday (Thursday), word spread that it was much more convenient to take public transport. A rational person who has equal access to both his car and public transport would have a greater incentive to choose to take public transport, leading to a reduction of traffic on roads. In this way, a negative feedback loop is formed, ensuring that traffic congestion does not spiral out of control (in fact, it ought to hover near this congestion point) as predicted by an n-player PD.

But what good is this analysis, for if conditions hover near congestion point, it would already mean that cars are being delayed on roads. I’m not so sure myself (I only have a few hours of formal economics training) but, it seems systems are most efficient at equilibrium so by extrapolation, some kind of efficiency must be reached in this system as well. When I do find out, I’ll add it in.

Drunk

2005-07-24T00:55:00.000+08:00

I’m totally drunk. I’m not sure if it was the Chivas Regal or the Gin, but whatever the cause, I’m totally inebriated.

And it’s times like this when I think about the what ifs. What if I got an A1 for English during the O Levels like I deserved to instead of the odious B4 (which I still believe to be a fluke)? Then again, what difference would it have made? Maybe it’s better this way? Argh, why? Why?

Bah, I think it’s all the alcohol. It’s gone to my brain, and hasn’t just affected my writing facilities.

PS: This post should be deleted for disjointedness, plain stupidity and lack of discretion. But maybe it will serve as a warning not to get so wasted next time. I guess I ought to be glad that I wasn’t around with mutual friends. Can’t imagine the consequences of accidentally blurting out stuff. Bah!

Economics and My Liver

2005-07-21T13:02:00.000+08:00

Literature, History and Economics, three subjects which I think I will like, three subjects which I didn’t read in Junior College because I though I was better in the sciences, three subjects which I will try to read in University to satisfy my intellectual curiosity. How ironic, how strange, how sad!

I remember during my mid-terms in Junior College, when the horror and regret I faced when I chose Biology over Economics had reached its crescendo, (try memorising page after page of gibberish --- and yes, to me, the difference between a plant cell and an animal cell is gibberish) I decided to do something outrageous: I would, using what little I knew about economics, answer my biology essay with economics jargon and concepts. The exact question eludes my memory, but I remember it was something about the functions of the liver. (non-biology students will be surprised by how many pages of crap you can write about one small organ.)

I explained how a combination of specialisation, division of labour and economies of scale vis-à-vis specific liver cells could lead to allocative efficiency in the production of hormones, blood proteins and other products. I think I mentioned marginal utility as well, just for good measure. And of course, I made it a point to use the phrase “ceteris paribus” at least once per paragraph, for I just loved the sound of anything Latin (classy).

It was a move that certainly wouldn’t endear me to any economics teacher (I massacred the subject), but seeing that I didn’t have one, I wasn’t overly concerned. And the final twist? I received a surprisingly good grade for the essay. The marker must have known shit about economics too.

Office Antics

2005-07-19T02:15:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I had a chat conversation with a friend whom I had not spoken to for quite a long time.

Latingirl: Everyone thinks I am weird.
Me: Of course you are not. I think you are perfectly normal, and charming too.
Latingirl: You don't know me well enough.

The worse things about MSN conversations is you can’t judge, based on the other party’s facial expressions, whether she means it in jest. But, I would rather err on the wrong side of caution than risk her feeling unhappy.

Thus the game plan: to regale her with tales of how weird I am in office so as to make her seem normal by comparison. And so I started; I told her about how I would waltz around the corridors, how I would ask stupid questions like whether it was possible to get a girl pregnant by injecting semen into her bloodstream, etc. Halfway-through the mission, I realised one important fact: I was truly strange, at least in the office. Who else asks questions like why people don’t build hotels on mountains --- that way mountain climbers don’t have to sleep in tents at night.

Was I revelling in getting a raise out of people? Was I secretly laughing at people’s ineptness to realise that they were being tricked? Was I trying to mask the reality of being incarcerated by asylum-like behaviour? Was I playing out the role of a jester?

Religious Faith

2005-07-16T01:44:00.000+08:00

Today was OSC day, and thus, instead of our usual gourmet fare from the cookhouse, we had to settle for plain old chicken by old man Col Sanders. Now, before we started to eat, our resident atheist (if you are actually just an agnostic in disguise, I apologise) asked if anyone wanted to say Grace.

This sparked off much introspection: here’s a man who is firmly anti-religion, someone who threatened to disembowel me when I called him a catholic, someone who I wouldn’t bet against burning crosses and bibles; yet, ironically, he had the decency to ask if we wanted to adhere to our religious practices, and I, a self-professed Christian, was more busy with the chicken (the KFC chicken). For shame honestly, for shame.

And yet it wouldn’t matter as much had this been an isolated event, a momentary lapse of willpower in the face of temptations like chicken (again, the KFC chicken), but it wasn’t. It was simply yet another instance in a long line of impious acts.

I remember what my Pastor once said: “The biggest problem facing the Christian community is that too many of us are Christians only on Sundays.” I’m not a Sunday-only Christian; I’m a crisis-only Christian. It seems that I turn to God only when I’m beleaguered and in the greatest need of an emotional or spiritual crutch. I became deeply religious when my aunt, one of my closest relatives in Singapore, died this year, but as the pain subsided, so did my religious faith.

Or perhaps “religious faith” is the wrong phrase, for it seems to connote a lack of belief in the existence of God and his miracles. I do believe in the greatness of God, but the inertia is simply too great. I went to church twice last year, and on both occasions I was invited by a well-meaning Michelle. But now that she’s in Penn, there’s simply no one to help drag me to church.

Somehow all my other responsibilities seem to have higher priority; and yet, when I’m in need of succour, I go crying back to God, expecting him to help even though I pay him scant attention the rest of the time.

有事钟无艳，无事夏迎春

I’m truly ashamed and penitent. But I wonder if that will translate to action?

Observation

2005-07-15T16:44:00.000+08:00

Still waters do indeed run deep. I wonder what else lies beneath that stoic countereance.

Dancing Down Orchard Road

2005-07-15T01:29:00.000+08:00

Today was one of the more fun nights I had in quite a while: to start, Anonymous Playboy joined Amanda, Kok Heng and I for dinner and soon got down to what he excelled at.

Anonymous Playboy (turning to Amanda): Why do I hang around with people like Kok Heng and Daniel instead of interesting and intelligent people like you?
Amanda: Anonymous Playboy, you’ve known me for all of two minutes.

Smooth Anonymous Playboy, smooth. Actually, I think that she may have been flattered had you not told her about your conversation a few days ago.

Anonymous Playboy (over the phone): Kok Heng, I’ll call you back later. I’m trying to get laid here.
Girls around him (obviously miffed): What! Do we look like we are so loose?
Anonymous Playboy (starts laughing): What do you think?

Before continuing, some background information: Amanda was my first ever dance partner and we learnt Salsa together. However, while she took to Salsa like a fish takes to water, I wasn’t as half inclined or talented (which reminds me of the time I got thrown off the powerboat while wakeboarding with Ken, Eunice and Jia Yang). In fact, I was quite ready to give up dancing forever, but I guess fate makes sport of man.

Anyway, in spite of my musical impairment and salsa-phobia, we decided that it was time to burn the floor, and what ensued was a crazy night of dancing as Amanda and I started Salsa-ing down Orchard Road. In spite of the weird looks we received from bystanders and I only knowing the basic steps, it was fun, great fun. We really must do it again =D

PS: It’s not so much that I have suddenly developed a love for Salsa; rather, having not danced for quite some time, I’m desperate, utterly desperate, for dance, any kind of dance. Now if I can only persuade Amanda to take up the Waltz with me before she leaves for Boston.

Brave New World

2005-07-04T17:04:00.000+08:00

It seems that I’ve underrated Brave New World. I originally meant to read it on a dare and didn’t expect to enjoy it. However, I’ve been, thankfully, mistaken.

Nevertheless, I feel that my understanding of it is rather superficial. It has, after all, been hailed as one of the most startling, provocative and prescient novels ever written. Thus, I shall attempt to get Ming De to teach me how Literature students analyse books, how they spot the dominant motifs and themes, etc, and hope to be able to apply some of these skills in the inevitable second-reading.

I could simply read Sparknotes, and I may, but I would much rather learn to fish. Besides, to simply imbibe Sparknotes’ interpretation and pass it off as mine without further processing would be stupid, criminal even and yet so instinctive, results of years of conditioning.

There is only one correct answer, one correct interpretation. There are no grey areas, only Black or White, and sometimes not even two. Anyone who tells you otherwise is an enemy. Recognise them, hunt them down, and disparage them. Diaphanous they are, threat to society they are, Art students they are.

Random thoughts that didn't fit in anywhere else

I found Brave New World to be chillingly provocative, especially when juxtaposed against our consumerist world. It certainly has provide much food-for-thought, even if I’m still unable to recognise all the literary devices or unable to identify the growth of the characters. Yet, is that really important? What am I supposed to get out of a good book: an in-depth understanding of the plot and characters, or the message, be it a moral, ideological or warning, that the author wanted to bring across? Or are they hopelessly intertwined? So many questions, so few answers. Is this what I’m supposed to feel?

Literature

2005-07-03T16:06:00.000+08:00

In a bid to sound more learned, I have decided to do three things in July.

Enjoy JK Rowling’s thrilling novel, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (okay, not exactly literature but who cares!)

Read Aldous Huxley’s seminal piece, Brave New World

Survive Plato’s soporific tome, The Republic.

GP Tutors

2005-07-01T00:52:00.000+08:00

20 year old male seeking young, nubile, attractive female. Willing to pay high rates for personalised services.

To all who think that my desperateness has reached new levels, let contrition flood your sorry soul, let guilt and remorse overwhelm your sick mind, for I’m actually looking for an English teacher.

My writing style is horrendous and has two defining characteristics: the first being long and largely incoherent sentences that go on and on like a never-ending river, addling the mind of the reader, testing the extents of his patience and short-term memory, pushing the limits of punctuations’ role in assisting the formation of meandering sentences, all for the sake of being irritating. The second? Curt prose.

Unfortunately just like two lefts do not make a right, two extreme forms of writing do not make for a balanced way of writing, and I’m effectively, in the absence of a more apt term, screwed unless I can correct them before the SAT. Sad right?

Normally, I would simply look up the classified ads, pick a GP tutor and randomly quote prices based on gut instinct and the timbre of the voice over the phone. Cut and dried. But today, for posterity sakes, we (and by we, I really mean I, but anything to make you feel involved) shall attempt something different, something revolutionary, something scientific. Drumroll please!

But first, a few words from our money-grubbing and unkind lawyers: the text below contains my interpretation of economics theories and are meant in good humour. As of the time of writing, I have only two hours’ worth of knowledge, and if you are a purist who hates to see your beautiful subject get desecrated, please avoid reading the next few paragraphs.

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One of the biggest criticisms of economics is it having too many assumptions. This seems to imply that any decent economics paper ought to have truck loads of assumptions and hence, being someone who aims to please, I present my first assumption.

It’s acceptable to make assumptions in an economics paper.

Circular logic I know, but hey, it’s a start. Things ~~will start getting hot and heavy~~ are just heating up.

Before continuing, let me outline the aims of this exercise. I want to hire someone to help me improve my grammar, vocabulary, expression and writing style in preparation for the upcoming SAT I Writing test in October. In particular, I wish to break away from the “GP-writing-mould”, or the rigid writing structure taught in GP classes which I deem to be overly stiff. Thus, I’ll prefer a university student reading Law, Politics, etc to a JC teacher who I feel will be locked in the GP form of expression.

EDIT: After much thought, I’m now inclined to believe that a Literature lecturer would be the best choice. However, I have to consider the state of my finances.

Before more in-depth discussion can be pursued, I must make the following assumption:

Man is rational and attempts to maximise benefits while simultaneously minimising costs.

Following which we must decide if we wish to maximise benefits or to minimise costs. I propose that the former can be accomplished by fixing the amount we are willing to pay (we thus select the best teacher for that fixed amount) and the latter can be attained by fixing the approximate standard of the teacher (we then choose the cheapest teacher for the chosen standard). Deciding on the approach is not meant to reduce the teacher’s fee demanded but rather to maximise the usage of our time. I’m rather cash-strapped at the moment so we opt for the latter.

The next set of crossroads: should we pay him/her according to much we value his/her time, or according to how much he/she values his/her own time? A quick simulation shows that the first option is inferior.

Case 1:

My valuation < his/her opportunity cost

He won’t take up the deal.

Case 2:

My valuation = his/her opportunity cost

He takes up the deal and I do not overpay him. Best scenario for me.

EDIT: Sheng Quan informed me that this case is the turning point and in practice, one has to take into account switching costs and thus one needs to make an offer slightly above opportunity cost. However, even if we take that into account, I believe my original hypothesis still stands, except now the criteria for overpaying should be a valuation exceeding k, where k is a constant that is slightly greater than the opportunity cost.

Case 3:

My valuation > his/her opportunity cost

He takes up the deal but I overpay him. Worst scenario for me.

Assume that there are plenty of tutors, and thus, should a tutor refuse my offer, I can easily seek someone else.

The probability that Case 2 occurs is low and thus we will in all likelihood overpay the tutor. Moreover, one has to consider the practicality of assigning valuations in this situation. I believe that in calculating valuations, one has to rely on estimated marginal utility which is based on either prior experience with the product or similar substitutes, or testimonials from others. Since we have never been taught by the tutor, we obviously cannot rely on first-hand experience. Furthermore, quality and methods of teaching vary greatly from teacher to teacher and a relationship between these and easily-verifiable things like qualifications seems to be tenuous at best. Thus accurate valuation becomes difficult, making this approach unfeasible.

We are then left with using how much the tutor values his time to determine price. Initially we felt that while there was a market for GP tuition, most students preferred actual JC lecturers, and thus there was a low demand for GP tutors who were young and relatively inexperienced (perhaps university students or NSFs from the Humanities Faculty). According the Law of Supply and Demand, since demand was low and supply was relatively high (large number of people who fit this criteria), price ought to be low. However, we soon realised that many of these potential tutors who were good enough to teach GP were also equally skilled in Economics, and that relative to GP, students seeking help in economic were less picky vis-à-vis academic qualifications, and thus demand was higher. All other things being equal (neglecting the added pool of university students who can teach economics but not GP), they could charge a higher rate for economics tuition.

We assumed that the tutor will judge the desirability of an offer based on its opportunity cost. Thus, while it is likely that the tutor may not be offered fees (for GP) which exceed that I offered, assuming the tutor has no significant preference for teaching GP over economics, he can obtain higher fees from teaching economics. Hence we must offer a rate that matches that from economics tuition.

However, due to us being new to economics, we lack the necessary tools and formulas to calculate this rate using a scientific method. Thus, we shall have to resort to the time-tested formula of calling the tuition agency and just randomly quote fees. Well, at least we tried. Till next time.

Dance

2005-06-28T01:42:00.000+08:00

I remember a friend telling me how he got people to take up dance: he would convince his female friends first, and they would pull their significant others to partner them. I’ve included a sample conversation illustrating how this Herculean task is accomplished.

Girl: Do you love me?
Guy: *groans in silence* Of course I do.
Girl: Would you do anything for me?
Guy: *groans again, this time slightly more audible* But of course, my dear.
Girl: Good. I’m thinking of taking dance lessons and I need a partner…
Guy: *groans again, this time very audible* No!!! Not dance…
Girl: Didn’t you just say that you love me, and that you would do anything for me?
Guy: But, but, dancing…
Girl: I really want to go for classes, and I don’t want other guys touching me… I don’t think you would like that too…

At this point, it’s over. Any last-ditch resistance is for show only, and soon he will capitulate.

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I take a slightly different tact when convincing my friends.

H: Dude, grow a penis. Dancing is for faggots.
Me: Dude, there were twenty other girls in the room. I was the only guy. And you know how hot dancers are.
H: You are joking!
H: No I’m not.

One month later…

H: Hey Daniel, remember the other time you were telling me about dance? I was wondering if you could recommend a studio.

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I wonder if girls are turned off if they find out that some of the guys they are dancing with don’t exactly have the noblest of intentions. I remember a conversation with my dance partner.

Me: I’ve some friends who are interested in dance.
Rox: Oh really, that’s good! So hard to find such guys nowadays!
Me: Well, actually, I think they want to meet girls through dance.
Rox: What the heck… I can’t stand guys like that… We are there to dance not to be picked up!
Me: *cleverly remain silent*

Leadership in the Army

2005-06-27T16:27:00.000+08:00

The manner of leadership in the army is appalling. Something expected of an organisation where rank takes precedence over all other things (including common sense and human decency) and where officers advance without necessarily learning proper management skills.

Yet officers who are weaned on such a rank crutch will soon find that forced compliance is superficial and, on many levels, useless and harmful. When thrust into a situation which requires them to motivate their subordinates, they first attempt, usually unsuccessfully, motivational platitudes (eg: we have the utmost trust in our NSFs, we care for our soldiers, etc), failing which they then fall back to using ranks and threats: I’m a Major so you better follow instructions, else I will charge you. Instead of trying to align the tasks at hands with either the short-term or long-term goals of the conscript, the officer forces the task onto him, making the conscript feel exploited and thus unwilling to work. This invariably leads to the conscript doing the bare-minimum to avoid punishment--- the quintessential lose-lose situation.

Some officers are under the misimpression that all NSFs are sloth-like and thus need to be forced to do work with implied threats. Yet this misses the point: the reason why NSFs put in minimal effort is precisely because they feel they are forced to work.

Consider a win-win situation, which can be constructed by providing the conscript incentives to produce good work, either in the form of rewards (privileges, offs, recognition, etc) or by engendering ownership among the NSFs. Such an ideal situation used to exist in my section--- in return for privileges like a flexible roster and additional off, NSFs produced exemplary work. Producing excellent work became a matter of personal pride and should work quality drop, it would be the NSFs themselves rather than the bosses who would root out the problem and solve it: for example, “slackers” were either ostracised or posted out (via political angling).

Sadly, that win-win situation and culture vanished with the arrival of our new CO. To his credit, our new CO is relatively visionary and seems to have a relative clear idea of where our unit is going. However, he is sorely lacking in implementation and inter-personal skills. He does not recognise that his new policies, some of which indeed progressive, are in sharp contrast with our office’s established working style and are thus viewed unfavourably. Qing Emperor Guangxu tried it with his Hundred Days’ Reform, JWW Birch tried it with his slavery reform: both neglected the environment around them and paid with their lives and freedom. While neither as extreme nor as severe, our CO is in a similar predicament.

This is compounded by him being a new addition to our office. He thus suffers from the perception of being the outsider who makes changes without first understanding our office. In addition, he does not realise that many of his policies are seen as giving us unnecessary, additional work and he has not chosen to justify them, possibly due to the top-down superiority syndrome (i.e. they are just NSFs).

However, unlike most offices where NSFs are menial slaves and are not essential (the officers could, but wouldn’t want to, make their own coffee or shred their own paper), in my office, NSFs do most of their officers’ work, and are indispensable (in fact, most of us wonder what our officers do, besides going for two hour lunch breaks and watching drama serials). Thus, it’s essential that NSF morale is kept high, for there’s a direct correlation between that and quality.

However, our CO does not seem to realise this: his recent policies seem to disregard the feelings of the NSFs and have not endeared him to us. His high-handed implementation style has further alienated him: for example, recently, he decreed that any conscript caught using MSN or playing online games would be charged. That raised the ire of those affected and as well as those who opposed it in principle and contributed to a sharp drop in morale.

Granted that most conscripts do not enjoy such benefits, which admittedly seem out of place in the military, that has been the established culture in our office, encouraged by one CO (he explicitly told us that we could do our own work once we were done with our office tasks, as long as they were well done) and tolerated by another. Even if our present CO felt that these activities were inimical to the smooth operation of our office and needed to be halted, he ought to have taken the time to understand the matter from our viewpoint, and subsequently proceeded from there; ultimately, the autocratic manner in which the diktat was imposed will only do more harm than good.

Furthermore, it seems he has not properly analysed the pros and cons of such a decision as well as possible effects. The main motivating factor for such a move seems to be the belief that such activities affect our work quality, but removal of these sources of entertainment will drive us to either seek other ways to pass time or to be less productive. Moreover, the morale hit that this latest move has incurred will invariably manifest itself in the reports we do, i.e. for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction.

As a unit, we have experienced great fortunes, with previous COs and officers enjoying rapid promotions and comfy jobs. That was in part due to our unit’s exemplary products, a result of the harmonious relations between the bosses and the NSFs; our new CO enjoys none of this, and when the day comes when he requires support from the ground, he will find none. He will reap what he sowed.

Riddle

2005-06-21T23:55:00.000+08:00

A species that is hard to understand, difficult to predict and impossible to please?

Molten Chocolate Cake

2005-06-21T23:24:00.000+08:00

Ah, tried my hand at making Molten Chocolate Cakes (aka Lava Cakes) using a recipe which Colin most helpfully provided on his blog.

Now, as much as the cake in the picture looked all right, maybe even delectable to some, I must confess that all that is due to Kok Heng, who saved the day by first creating a restaurant-like finish via adept usage of chocolate sauce, and by secondly framing it in the best possible light using all of his photo-taking techniques. (he is an award-winning photographer.)

All that glitters is not gold, and beneath its elegant exterior lies an overbaked chocolate core (the bane of all would-be-molten- chocolate-cake-bakers), a gastronomical sin tantamount to a cheese-less cheese cake or *shudder* melted ice-cream. We were supposed to get melted chocolate seeping out, not a solid black interior! Ah well, live and learn I guess.

Korea Korea Korea

2005-06-15T13:37:00.000+08:00

I’m going to KOREA!!!

KOREA!!!

Now, the hard part begins, time to angle for unrecorded leave. As Kok Heng puts it,

Kok Heng: We don’t have to angle for it; we deserve it. SAF better give it to us because we are representing our *beloved* nation.

Well, he’s the expert, and if he got us unrecorded leave last year (to Taipei), he can do it again.

Really too happy for words, which explains the disjointedness of this post, but I’m too euphoric to care. A free vacation, two weeks of kimchi and a chance to make new overseas friends!

Lessons I learnt from last year’s Taiwan trip:

1) Don’t get involved in any summer flings! They are not worth it!
2) Being able to speak to the locals in their language is very important.
3) Bring along namecards.
4) Set a spending bar (tendency to go crazy when shopping).
5) Pack more clothes, but be sure to ensure excess luggage space.

Checklist of things to do before the trip:

1) Bug Kok Heng to teach me Learn Korean.
2) Shop for clothes. (ok, this is just an excuse, but whatever…)
3) Print namecards.
4) Finish the first draft of my university applications. (Early Decision)

Birthdays and Persians

2005-06-13T23:49:00.000+08:00

I’ve rediscovered Civilization Three and these last few days have been spent trying to wage intercontinental wars and launch nuclear missiles without causing global warming. Today, when I was leading the immortal Persians against the rest of the world…

Military Adviser: Emperor Daniel, the Aztecs are massing troops on our eastern border. What are your orders?
Me: What’s the situation on the western front?
Military Adviser: My lord, our scouts report that the second Chinese expeditionary force has managed to link up with their initial army and is currently regrouping near Susa.
Domestic Advisor: The Satrap of Susa reports that morale of the people is low due to repeated drafting and loss of lives due to construction of walls and moats.
Me: What’s the status of my Immortal squadron? What is their estimated time of arrival?
Military Advisor: We…

However, my quest for global domination was rudely halted. By a carrier pigeon? By a palace coup? Nay: I was interrupted by my mother who had called me from Taiwan to enquire about her son’s health. Now, to cut a long story short, after I put down the phone and got back to plotting the demise of those two civilizations, I was again rudely interrupted by my father who reminded me that it was my mother’s birthday today, and that my mother was hurt by my apparent amnesia. To cut a long story short, what ensued was a new round of long-distance calls, frantic family members and Persia nearly being caught in a pincer attack.

I wonder if I can be considered an ingrate. My mother spends the whole week worrying about my health (I’ve been sick for a week) and I forget her birthday. And I’m more worried about Susa falling to the Chinese.

Well, I certainly do know what I would call myself if I forgot my son’s birthday. An idiot, not for forgetting his birthday, but for having a son. Now, I’m quite opposed to children, and I’m particularly against sons. Sons are useless, and will probably run around the house pretending to be Persian Immortals or great conquerors. Not to mention they forget birthdays.

Addenum: I managed to stave off the Chinese invasion. They chose a long march through the mountains thinking that they would be safe from my Immortals, to which I responded with concentrated catapult fire. At the same time, I attacked the Chinese landing ships, thereby depriving their land forces of immediate and future reinforcements. The Aztec invasion didn’t materialize: I figure they were trying to capitalize on my conflict and thus retreated when I routed the Chinese army. Damn Aztecs, you will taste Persian steel soon.

Dance Comparison

2005-05-31T13:59:00.000+08:00

Not-so-Random Observations

Female Latin dancers= sexy
Male Latin dancers= gay
Male Standard dancers= classy

Female Latin costumes= sexy
Male Latin costumes= gay
Male Standard costumes= classy

Female Latin moves= sexy
Male Latin moves= gay
Male Standard moves= classy

And they wonder why guys don't dance Latin!! Maybe I ought to sign up for some Waltz lessons instead.

Law School

2005-05-30T19:44:00.000+08:00

Dennis and I were on duty together and we were discussing the repercussions of the recent decision to allocate the Bukit Timah Campus to NUS, which would allow the university to move its Business and Law faculties there.

Now, seeing that both of us have been admitted to Law, one would expect an intellectual discussion befitting future members of the legal profession. Was it the legal consequences and precedents this landmark decision set that we chose to discuss? Or perhaps even the fairness of using spatial factors as a judging criterion? Nay, for lawyers are pragmatic people, too pragmatic sometimes, and thus practical issues were what we chose to debate.

Dennis: I can’t believe this. This will wreck much of the undergraduate experience I was looking forward to.
Me: I agree wholeheartedly.
Dennis: The whole point of an undergraduate education is to allow one to broaden one’s mindset, to allow one to achieve breath of mind by interacting with people pursuing different subjects and interests.
Me: Exactly, such a move would greatly limit our intellectual circles and opinions since we will be mixing with people who are rather similar. While diversity does exist within and between the two schools, it is greatly reduced since these two faculties are more professional in nature and students are thus self-selecting.
Dennis: Yes, it seems like we are deprived of a fundamental tenet of varsity life. If I had to put a number to it, I say we are losing out by at least 80%.
Wei Yang: 80%? Is it possible to quantify the quality of something as abstract and intangible as an undergraduate experience?
Dennis and Me: Well, we can calculate the percentage reduction of females. Why, just imagine all the hot girls from other faculties we are missing out on!

Disclaimer: This is meant to be a highly fictitious and exaggerated account. For all would-be-detractors, cease and desist, now!

New Way To Say No

2005-05-16T00:51:00.000+08:00

“It’s not so much we are not open to you going to xxx university. We just don’t want you to make a big mistake. We simply want the best for you, and we definitely have your interests at heart.”

An Ideal Husband

2005-05-11T15:26:00.000+08:00

I was reading An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde last night, and the theme of love being predicated upon worship struck a cord.

…the ideal…

LADY CHILTERN: Men can love what is beneath them - things unworthy, stained, dishonoured. We women worship when we love; and when we lose our worship, we lose everything. Oh! don't kill my love for you, don't kill that!

…which invariably leads to the revelation…

LADY CHILTERN: You sold a Cabinet secret for money! You began your life with fraud! You built up your career on dishonour! Oh, tell me it is not true! Lie to me! Lie to me! Tell me it is not true!

LADY CHILTERN: No, don't speak! Say nothing! Your voice wakes terrible memories - memories of things that made me love you - memories of words that made me love you - memories that now are horrible to me. And how I worshipped you! You were to me something apart from common life, a thing pure, noble, honest, without stain. The world seemed to me finer because you were in it, and goodness more real because you lived. And now - oh, when I think that I made of a man like you my ideal! the ideal of my life!

…the response, which in my opinion, is advice I need to heed…

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN: There was your mistake. There was your error. The error all women commit. Why can't you women love us, faults and all? Why do you place us on monstrous pedestals? We have all feet of clay, women as well as men; but when we men love women, we love them knowing their weaknesses, their follies, their imperfections, love them all the more, it may be, for that reason. It is not the perfect, but the imperfect, who have need of love. It is when we are wounded by our own hands, or by the hands of others, that love should come to cure us - else what use is love at all? All sins, except a sin against itself, Love should forgive. All lives, save loveless lives, true Love should pardon. A man's love is like that. It is wider, larger, more human than a woman's. Women think that they are making ideals of men. What they are making of us are false idols merely. You made your false idol of me, and I had not the courage to come down, show you my wounds, tell you my weaknesses. I was afraid that I might lose your love, as I have lost it now. And so, last night you ruined my life for me - yes, ruined it! What this woman asked of me was nothing compared to what she offered to me. She offered security, peace, stability. The sin of my youth, that I had thought was buried, rose up in front of me, hideous, horrible, with its hands at my throat. I could have killed it for ever, sent it back into its tomb, destroyed its record, burned the one witness against me. You prevented me. No one but you, you know it. And now what is there before me but public disgrace, ruin, terrible shame, the mockery of the world, a lonely dishonoured life, a lonely dishonoured death, it may be, some day? Let women make no more ideals of men! let them not put them on alters and bow before them, or they may ruin other lives as completely as you - you whom I have so wildly loved - have ruined mine!

Moving On

2005-05-07T16:35:00.000+08:00

I haven’t been myself lately. The last three weeks saw the resurgence of the gloomy, overly-critical and insecure Daniel that I thought was forever consigned to a distant memory. Yet it seems that the past doesn’t die easily; rather, it lurks within the deepest recesses of one’s mind, and resurfaces when one’s emotional defences are weakened.

But is there a point in brooding? What does it achieve? Wouldn’t moving on be better?

My dance shoes are covered with a thin layer of dust, the result of three weeks of disuse. Perhaps it’s time to wear them again?

Questions, Lessons

2005-05-06T22:46:00.000+08:00

I remember Janice asking me in June last year: “Of all the people in the world, why do you have to fall for someone who’s both attached and overseas-bound?” I had no answer, for then, emotions transcended logic.

Fast-forward to the present: one year older, but not necessarily one year wiser. Indeed, one year of introspection has brought me no closer to the answer; rather, I’m plagued with more questions. Why has the Lord arranged for me to meet someone who completely changed my views on relationships and marriage? Why has the Lord then also made it such that we’ll never be together? Is there a lesson I’m supposed to learn?

Emotional Dykes

2005-05-01T00:34:00.000+08:00

I seek to escape reality by busying myself with myriad activities; work is the dyke holding back the tide of emotions. But why does it crumble when I hear Toshiro Masuda’s Sadness and Sorrow?

Time Tempers Us All

2005-04-28T00:58:00.000+08:00

I had a dream today. I was married with a cute and petite daughter, a cosy family of three.

One year ago I would have broken out in cold sweat; today I smiled in warm anticipation.

Hindsight

2005-04-24T02:19:00.000+08:00

Everything I did defied common logic and rationality…
Everything I did was unjustifiable in terms of opportunity cost…
Everything I did could be regarded as foolish by the general populace…

But even if given another chance, I wouldn’t have it any other way…

Facades

2005-04-20T00:03:00.000+08:00

Over the past few months, I have, both accidentally and intentionally, built up an office image of being lewd.

I sometimes wonder what they will think if they know that while I don’t disapprove of fornication or other sexual activities, I won’t engage in them unless I’m quite sure I’ll marry my partner (and await the inevitable brats). Or that I still reproach myself for looking at her friend exactly 102 days ago. Sigh, it wasn't just an egregious faux pas; it was an immoral act of wretchedness. I guess it's all irrelevant now, although I do wish I had a chance to apologise in person.

I don’t write this with annoyance but rather with detached amusement at how society can so easily mistake a façade for one’s true personality.

Cooking Post Mortem (Session Two)

2005-04-19T19:35:00.000+08:00

Chef: Colin
Apprentices: Tuck Chen, Me
Dish: Pasta Primavera with Smoky Ham

Things Learnt:

1) Testing for correct consistency of the pasta sauce is done by checking if it coats the back of a batter spoon. Drip sauce over a wooden spoon and, using a sharp object, scrap a line through. If the sauce does not cover the exposed region, correct consistency has been reached.

2) Thickening of a sauce can be achieved by addition of corn starch or egg yolk. While heating can thicken as well, it has the undesirable effect of evaporating so much liquid that there’s very little sauce left. For pasta, egg yolk is preferable as a thickening agent, as it blends well with egg-based nature of pasta as compared to corn starch. (by the same logic, egg yolk would not be suitable to thicken a soup.)

3) The proper way to thicken via an egg yolk is to first beat the egg, and then add a small amount of the sauce to the egg. Addition of the egg to the hot sauce would lead to it curdling immediately; thus, we slowly add the sauce to the egg to allow it to slowly increase in temperature to avoid curdling. Continue doing this (in batches), and stir in the egg mixture to the sauce after it has been removed from heat. A similar approach is used when making Bernaise sauce.

4) A recipe should not be followed whole-sale: for example, if the recipe calls for a cup of chicken broth, add half a cup first, and add more if required. Being flexibility is important, as “cooking is not an exact science (an oft-repeated quote by Chef Liew).” For example, the dijon mustard that we used yesterday was stronger than usual, and thus we diluted the sauce by adding more cream and chicken broth than called for. This led to the sauce becoming too thin, and an egg yolk was added.

5) Cutting food into pieces reduces cooking time--- increased surface area. Thus, when clarifying butter, chop it up first to melt it quickly. This also means that increasing the size of the asparagus rounds increases the time required to cook it--- useful when cooking asparagus since the stem takes a longer time to cook then the spears. Also note that when cooking stems and spears, add the stems first.

6) Sugar can be used to temper sauces with too strong flavours--- eg: the tang of strong dijon mustard.

Universities

2005-04-14T16:04:00.000+08:00

Just when I thought I had settled on my university choices, new factors come into play. I was originally supposed to read Business and Engineering, but I had decided that I would try to convince my sponsoring company to allow me to drop Engineering for Business. (I’ll be involved in procurement and won’t serve a single day as an engineer.)

Then the choices would have been simple (in no order of merit or choice)

Columbia Economics
Stern Finance
Wharton Finance

However, Aileen was telling me that EDB may not be as receptive as I thought to the idea of dropping Engineering. Sigh, I hope not, for I certainly don’t wish to drop Business for Engineering.

And I wonder if I will enjoy NY as much as I thought I would. I’ve always imagined staying in NY (studying, working, etc) for a while, and I still want to, but it appears that it’s really costly to actually live in NY (especially as a student). A loaf of breaf costs $5 USD!! Oh man, I can't imagine living three years in the world's most vibrant and cosmopolitan city as a beggar. Decisions, decisions, decisions!!

Thank You

2005-04-14T04:47:00.000+08:00

Thank you for being so kind, even till the last moment. You were the first person I truly liked, and indeed I now know for sure that I have not loved the wrong person, even if nothing did come out of it. You shaped my views on relationships in ways I never thought possible, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I certainly wish that there won’t be awkwardness between the two of us, for I really want to keep this friendship.

I believe that when relationships are concerned, everything is preordained. God has his own plans, and he has arranged a special someone for everyone. If we are destined, then somehow, somewhere, sometime, we shall meet again, this time under more felicitous conditions. If not, I trust that the Lord has other plans, and I can only hope that both of us each find our special someone.

Lord, give me the strength to recognise that you have made plans for me, and that I only need to place trust in you. Amen.

The Three Tenors

2005-04-13T21:48:00.000+08:00

Today, my office witnessed the emergence of a new singing sensation, a group of three males who for posterity sakes shall be christened The Three Tenors. As with most great findings, the group's discovery was most fortuitous.

Chin Wui was remarking that of late, he had been hooked onto a rather cute song entitled Mr Lonely. And at that very instant, Ian and I shouted, (the very same words, I kid you not) “You listen to that song as weeeeelllll?”

What followed was a most torturous aural experience for the poor souls within a fifty mile radius:

Chin Wui: I'm so lonely
Chin Wui and Ian: I’m Mr. Lonely
Ian and me: I have nobody
All three (harmonising): For my owwwwwnnnnn!!

Herein the power of synergy: individually each of us sounds like a screeching cat whose tail has been stepped on; but collectively, ah, that's a different story. Collectively we sound like a group of screeching cats whose tails have been stepped on.

Alter-Egos

2005-04-13T14:18:00.000+08:00

Disclaimer: I do NOT actually hear voices.

I was preparing for Physics tuition when she came online. I hesitated for a while, and turned to my textbook, deciding that it was all for the best when I was accosted by a rather rude alter-ego.

Inner Daniel: What in the world are you doing? Talk to her!
Me: Would you please stop popping into my head without first knocking? It’s alarming, and rude.
Inner Daniel: Yeah yeah, whatever. Next you will be asking me to bring a door-gift.
Me: …
Inner Daniel: Anyway, come on, talk to her.
Me: Nah, she just came online. If I talk to her now, it seems so desperate, like I’m waiting specially for her.
Inner Daniel: Here’s an update: YOU ARE!
Me: No I’m not! I’m revising Physics. She does not come into the equation at all.
Inner Daniel: Yeah yeah, whatever. Maybe you refuse to admit it, but subconsciously, you just want to find out how she has been and whether she’s okay.
Me: And how would you know, Mr Alter-ego who’s just a voice?
Inner Daniel: Simple, I’m your subconscious remember.
Me: …
Inner Daniel: And I’m no longer just a voice now. The alter-egos of the world held this huge convention in Geneva recently, and we decided that it was demeaning for us to be heard and not seen. And I actually met the alter-egos of some of your friends.
Me: I'm sure you did. Anyway, you mean all the alter-egos in the world attended this convention, and agreed that from now on, alter-egos will be seen and heard?
Inner Daniel: Well not all came. There were a couple of old fogies who disagreed with our views. They refused to come and wanted to vote by telepathy. Wanted to be heard and not seen. We simply disregarded their votes.
Me: How transparent.
Inner Daniel: Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway, it’s time to unveil my new look. When I just want to look casual, for those occasions when I’m just cruising along…

[There’s a puff of smoke and a hazy human silhouette can be seen]

Me: What the? Tom Cruise?!
Inner Daniel: Yeah, anything wrong?
Me: Duh, my alter-ego is now the living twin of Tom Cruise.
Inner Daniel: All right already. How about this? When I want a little more depth…

[There’s a puff of smoke and a hazy human silhouette can be seen]

Me: Johnny Depp?! Oh for goodness sakes…
Inner Daniel: There isn’t any pleasing you, is there? One last try. When I’m pitting with someone else…

[You know the drill]

Me: Brad Pitt?! Would you stop with these celebrities, and the bad puns?
Inner Daniel: Yeah yeah, whatever.

[Morphs to become a twin of me]

Me: How in the world do you just morph around?
Inner Daniel: It’s all about imagining the possibilities. After all, I’m just a figment of your imagination. Anyway, it has been five minutes since she came online. You no longer have an excuse. Talk to her!
Me: Nah I shouldn’t. I mean she has exams now and I’ll simply be disturbing her.
Inner Daniel: All right. Then wish her good luck for her exams then.
Me: I already did that last week. It’ll be so obvious I’m trying to chat her up.
Inner Daniel: Do you know what your problem is? You are too worried about what she thinks of you.
Me: I just can’t help it. I don’t know why. And it’s really weird: I can give presentations to principals and teachers, sell to prospective students and parents, chat normally to girls, but the moment I see her, I get all tongue-tied.
Inner Daniel: See what happens when you like someone too much? You become way too nervous.
Inner Daniel: Anyway, I don’t think there’s any chance that you’ll talk to her today, so I’m calling it a day. I’ve got a date, so tata~!.
Me: …

[A puff of smoke erupts, and a girl appears]

Inner Daniel: Daniel, meet Inner xxxxxxx. See, I wasn't lying right.
Inner xxxxxxx: Charmed I’m sure.
Me: Uh uh.. howdy.. umm.. I mean hello.
Inner xxxxxxx: Relax, don’t get so tongue-tied. I’m just an astral projection.
Inner Daniel: Hate to break up the party but we’re late.
Me: Late? If you guys can zip across continents in a flash, why is time even a factor?
Inner Daniel: Well, true, but ah well… Anyway, I’ll see you later. We are going to attend the premiere of Interview with an Alter-ego.
Me: Interview with an Alter-ego?
Inner Daniel: Yes, it’s this play about humans who pretend to be alter-egos.
Me: And these human roles are acted by alter-egos who are essentially pretending to be humans?
Inner Daniel: Yes, isn’t it so avant-garde?
Me: Figures.

[The two disappear in a puff of smoke]

Me: Maybe I should wish her good luck for her exams. After all, Inner Daniel seems to know his stuff.

[I look at the screen and realise that she has gone offline]

Me: How unfortunate. Ah well…

Que Sera Sera

2005-04-12T19:14:00.000+08:00

When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my heart
What lies ahead

Will I have the chance to hold her in tender embrace?
Will I have the chance to lend a shoulder when she’s down?
Will I have the chance to gaze at stars with her by my side?
Will I have the chance to look and be captivated by her winsome countenance?
Will I have the chance to love her?

Here's what my heart said

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not yours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

Shopping

2005-04-10T22:10:00.000+08:00

I shop like a girl. I tell myself exactly what I’m looking for, and at the end of the trip, I’ve buy everything but the original item I came for. Two weeks ago I went shopping for a pair of shoes and wound up with a Topman shirt. Today I intended to buy a pair of white pants but I ended up purchasing a shirt from Dockers.

Sigh, I remember saying last month that I will stop splurging on clothes once I buy a pair of pants; thus far, I’ve gotten four shirts but nothing below the waist.

I swear it’s a curse. I think I shall set out to buy a shirt the next time I go shopping. Maybe this time I’ll end up with something to cover either my loins or my feet.

Sentimentality, Sex and Brats

2005-04-09T23:26:00.000+08:00

I’ve recently discovered that I’m not the only romance-movie aficionado in my office; apparently Ming De is an avid fan of such works as well. And while we were discussing the aptness of romance and sentimentality in males, we stumbled upon a sad truth:

Ming De: You realise that we (sentimental guys) are losing out on at least 10 years worth of nights of wild and uncontrollable sex.
Me: Damn it.
Ming De: Sigh, we probably will have to wait until we get married for that experience.
Me: I don’t think so. You don’t get great, borderline illegal sex in marriage.
Ming De: Eh?
Me: You get irritating, borderline illegal brats.
Ming De: Well, at least the nights will be wild and uncontrollable.
Me: In a painful way, yes.

IQ Tests

2005-04-09T21:50:00.000+08:00

I just took an IQ test and I do not fall into the Genius or Gifted category: I’m merely above average. Damn, why didn’t God give me less compassion and more intelligence? And to think that I was only going to murder two cats and strangle a chicken tonight; just for that, I’ll maim a dog if I see one.

In particular, the test identified Spatial and Verbal abilities as my weakest links. Darn, and I had my heart set on the Nobel and Pulitzer prizes.

Innate Gifts

2005-04-08T22:04:00.000+08:00

I think I have an innate gift for hinting. Why every time I hint, the intended recipient gets my message.

Like the last time I wanted new shoes because I wore out my old pair, I hinted,

“I need new shoes because I wore out my old pair.”

And my parents got the idea.

Isn’t that testament to my hinting abilities? Also, I don’t understand why my friends persist in criticising my lack of subtility.

“Subtility isn’t one of your strengths.”

“Oh really? Decision-making as well.”

“Eh?”

“Yes, I can’t quite decide if I should feed you to the lions or throw you into the crocodile-infested moat.”

I think I have an innate gift for subtility as well.

Verbal Checkmate

2005-04-08T21:16:00.000+08:00

My sister and I had this conversation over MSN today.

“Face it, you are obsessed. I mean your entire blog is about her.”

“That’s not true. Only 20-30% of my posts are about her. The majority of them are about cooking and dancing.”

“Uh huh, and the reason you dance and cook?”

Damn! I hate it when I’m verbally checkmated.

Pensive Thoughts

2005-04-08T02:28:00.000+08:00

What will happen if you know of my feelings for you? What will happen then if I know you know, and you know that I know you know?

When we meet again, will we skirt the issue by asking each other mundane questions? Will we both feign ignorance, you of my feelings, and I of your knowledge?

Will it be as if I sent you a letter, and the next time we see each other, I act like I never penned it, and you like you never read it.

Oh, what tangled webs I weave, when I first practice to love.

Bigmouths

2005-04-08T00:25:00.000+08:00

Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a bigmouth.

Heartfelt Words

2005-04-03T23:09:00.000+08:00

“…for the first time in my life, I realise that flings are the refuge of those who have yet to meet their right person…”

“…did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night….”

“… I wish I could have the opportunity to love you, to share your woes and to laugh and cry with you…”

Meant it then, mean it still…

Be Thou My Vision

2005-04-01T23:23:00.000+08:00

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best thought by day or by night
Waking or sleeping Thy presence my light
Be thou my wisdom and Thou my true word
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord
Thou my great Father, I , Thy true son
Thou in me dwelling and I with Thee one
Riches I heed not nor man's emptly praise
Thou mine inheritance now and always
Thou and thou only first in my heart
High King of heaven my treasure Thou are
High King of heaven my victory won
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun
Heart of my own heart whatever befall
Still be my vision O Ruler of all

Understatement

2005-03-29T22:56:00.000+08:00

Over the past month, I have received feedback from one sister, two cousins, three office-mates and four friends about my blog. According to them, I’m melodramatic and theatrical, and am highly likely to distort the truth.

I would like to point out that if that were always the truth, I would either be writing that they felt I was perpetually factual and unbiased, or I would be complaining that they threatened to put a contract on me unless I desisted.

But I digress.

To the perpetrators of this cruel act of libel, let it be known that in order to pander to your weird tastes, I shall greatly understate everything in this post.

There may be an iota of truth in the aforementioned criticism about my writing.
I have a slight weakness for pink and white on girls.
I’m mildly excited by the idea of a Victorian ballroom, tailcoats, white gowns, Handkuss (Hand Kiss) and other trappings of a traditional Viennese Ball.
I am not overjoyed with having to spend two years of my time in NS.

I admit to occasionally thinking that perhaps army regulars aren’t geniuses.

I’m smitten with her.

Eternal Optimist

2005-03-29T17:24:00.000+08:00

You are an eternal optimist.

Why thank you.

You don’t seem to be bothered.

Why should I be bothered by praise?

I didn’t mean it as a compliment.

Of course you did; you just haven’t realised it yet.

Continual Improvement

2005-03-29T01:09:00.000+08:00

It’s interesting to note the prevalence of companies that subscribe to the ideals of Continual Improvement. It seems like when American companies adopted the Japanese concept of Quality Control, they also copied the Japanese improvement model.

Continual Improvement is undoubtedly a powerful concept (look at Toyota’s success), and as such, I have decided to adopt it as my personal guiding principle, in the hope that it will bring me the same kind of success that companies employing it enjoy.

While there exist no formal set of rules dictating what exactly constitutes Continual Improvement (after all, it simply is an attitude, and the exact implementation varies from company to company), there are informal guidelines that one can follow.

1) Constantly striving for better results

This basically takes the idea of non-complacency one step further. In essence, one must never rest on one’s laurels and instead constantly seek improvement. To this end, I shall write post-mortems (for some activities involving skills I wish to improve like cooking, dancing, etc) detailing mistakes committed and steps that I will take to correct them. I shall also be selective with regards to what skills to improve, for attempting to apply Continual Improvement to everything will mean that one has no time for anything.

2) Open to criticism and new ideas

Only when one is open to change and to people pointing out his flaws can he improve; if one persists in sticking to his old method of doing things, he will simply repeat his mistakes, and stagnate, mired in the cesspool of mediocrity. One should also seek opinions from others, as alternative perspectives are always useful. This applies particularly to me, as I find that my creative faculties functions best when discussing ideas with others, as compared to attempting to brainstorm alone with a piece of paper.

Supportive Sister

2005-03-26T23:40:00.000+08:00

My sister is incredibly supportive of my dancing habit. Why, just minutes ago, when I was practising Cuba Motion (rotation of hips in a figure eight shape), she remarked, “Must you do that? That looks so gay.”

“Well, it’s Latin. Are you trying to tell me that all Latinos who dance are gay?”

“Well, Marc Anthony looks so much better. You just look gay.”

And people actually wonder why the term justifiable homicide exists.

Cooking Session

2005-03-25T22:24:00.000+08:00

Colin, Tuck Chen and Terence (my office-friends) came over for dinner yesterday, and I must say it was a most enjoyable occasion.

For one, the conversational topics were rather intellectual, which was to be expected from members of an Intelligence Branch where MILF stands for "Moro Islamic Liberation Front" and not "Mum I Love to Fuck."

Philosophy? Meta-physics? Theory of Relativity?

Nope, for we discussed issues which required far greater mental facilities and insights.

1) Why is it that guys who are not from RJ think that RJ girls are incredibly hot/cute/gorgeous/ravishing but RJ guys think they are just average?
2) Is it better to have a girlfriend from Science or from Arts/Humanities?
3) Our bosses (READ: bitching)

All in all, it was pretty good fun, and I think Tuck (Agent T), Terence (Agent P) and I learnt quite a lot from Master Chef Colin, who remarked that the steak dish he was teaching us (Steak with Bernaise sauce) was a good dish to prepare if one wanted to impress someone special.

I’ve this weird feeling that I was the intended recipient of that not-so-subtle quip.

Eve of a Cooking Session

2005-03-23T20:49:00.000+08:00

Dear Diary,

This may be the last ever entry, for I may not survive tomorrow. I finally understand the sentiments of the soldiers on the eve of D-Day, the sense of impending doom, the feeling that one may never see the light of day again.

Tomorrow I shall embark on the most risky mission I have ever attempted. Should I by the gracious grace of God survive, I have no doubt that I’ll be in the running for a Purple Heart.

Tomorrow, my office friends and I will step through the gates of hell and hope to exit the very same doorway, unscathed.

Tomorrow we cook.

I have made contingency plans: the kitchen is well-stocked with instant noodles; the nearest hospital is on speed dial; the fire extinguisher is on hand. But still, I cannot help but tremble at the dangers involved.

God be with us.

Daniel

Gastronomical Delight

2005-03-21T23:44:00.000+08:00

Had Nabisco launched a marketing campaign promoting Oreos dunked in milk, the human population would have been wiped out due to obesity.

Infatuation

2005-03-21T23:21:00.000+08:00

I had an interesting conversation with Sheng Quan yesterday, during which he commented,

“You seem to like girls that you admire.”

I think that explains why I was so obsessed over her. Back then, I placed her on a pedestal, and imagined her to be everything I wanted. To me she could do no wrong--- she was the personification of perfection, the embodiment of excellence.

I idolised her to the extent of hero worship; I was infatuated.

And now?

I still like her, but I no longer think she’s flawless. Perhaps someday I will have the opportunity to get to know her better, to like her for who she is and not who I imagine her to be.

The Queen by Pablo Neruda

I have appointed you Queen.
There are those more slender than you, more slender.
There are those purer than you, purer.
There are those fairer than you, fairer.

But you are the Queen.

When you go through the streets
no one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
at the carpet of red gold
that you tread as you pass,
the nonexistent carpet

And when you appear
all the river sound
in my body, bells
shake the sky,
and a hymn fills the world.

Only you and I,
only you and I, my love,
listen to it.

I think it summarises my feelings rather accurately.

Dentists

2005-03-21T16:53:00.000+08:00

In my opinion, a visit to the dentist is one of the most traumatic experiences one can have. After all, one is strapped to a chair, and at the mercy of an evil masked man who has at his disposal razor-sharp tools, and long metallic pipes which look disturbingly like tentacles in a low-budget Hentai show (and just to clarify, I don't watch such shows; as to how I know such stuff; well, any male who tells you he has never, at any point in his life, seen Hentai or Pornography is lying; and yes, males actually grow up and out of it).

I just came back from such a visit, and it was more distressing than normal, for the wise dentist discouraged me from extracting my wisdom teeth. His advice, wise as it may be, means that I need to find another way to get myself extracted from BMT. Sigh, what a root shock, for the idea that the aforementioned operation would be my bridge to freedom has already been implanted in my mind. Unless my other plans work, I shall have to brace myself for 7 weeks of hell.

Dance Obsession

2005-03-19T15:12:00.000+08:00

For the umpteenth time since I started dancing, I've been labelled as effeminate. Perhaps it’s the outfits, perhaps it’s the hand actions or perhaps it’s just the notion of prancing around, but whatever the cause, it has certainly garnered me unwanted attention (READ: heckling).

Excluding Intuition Centre, dance has been the main focus of my life. A large chunk of my monthly salary goes towards paying for lessons, a significant proportion of my time is spent practising, and sometimes I wonder why.

Lately I’ve been trying to rationalise making my life revolve around dance: I tell others that I simply don’t want to be mediocre in anything I do, and that I think dancing is fun. In retrospect, I think I’m trying to convince myself more than anyone else.

I don’t deny that dancing is fun or that I hate mediocrity. But I don’t think I loathe my current dancing abilities so much or am so hung up on dance to justify my present dance obsession.

I think it’s because of her.

I hate to admit it, for I think it’s so stupid, but somehow self-delusion can only go so far. I guess I would prefer to model myself after Richard Gere’s character in Shall We Dance, who starts learning dance to get to know Jennifer Lopez, but eventually grows to love it. That seems more dignified than plain-old learning dance to impress a female friend, which relegates me to the league of secondary-school teenage boys. Ugh!

In fact, in this particular instance, I’m probably more foolish than them, since there’s a higher chance of Hell freezing over than us getting together. On hindsight, I think the actual reason for my dance obsession has evolved from wanting to impress her to just wanting to have a single perfect dance with her. As much as this sounds incredulous, I simply want to share a dance with her that I can remember her by, a few minutes in a dream world, far away from the harshness of reality.

Habit Becomes Second Nature

2005-03-11T09:40:00.000+08:00

“Habit becomes second nature,” my mother used to warn when I was young and innocent.

And yesterday, I realised the veridicality of that mantra. I was talking to a friend over the phone, and was being all Daniel-like (READ: being sardonic, or at least trying to be). Now this wouldn’t normally be a problem, except my friend was a girl!

There’s a time and place for everything, and yesterday night was definitely not it. Plus I sincerely believe that girls ought to be treated with the utmost respect and civility. Do note that I’m not being sexist here--- I’m totally for equal rights and pay; not to mention I’ve got some female friends whom I’m so in awe of that it borders on hero worship. However, I don’t think that’s an excuse to forsake chivalry and gallantry.

Sigh, the consequences of being in an office whose inhabitants’ pastimes are bantering and messing with people’s minds. Don’t get me wrong, I think it's amazing fun, just that I can’t seem to turn it off.

I can just imagine what Ming De would say if I told him about it:

Ming De: So what happened to Mr “All-girls-should-be-treated-like- goddesses?”

No prizes for guessing whether he’s from my office.

Five Words of Death

2005-03-09T19:16:00.000+08:00

A quote from the British sitcom Coupling:

Steve, you know what the sentence of death is, don’t you? I don’t mean the sentence like in executions and stuff, I mean the scary one... Just five words, Steve. Five little words. ‘Where. Is. This. Relationship. Going.’

There exists another set of five little words that can strike all-consuming terror into the hearts of battle-hardened warriors, a phrase so potent it can reduce lionhearted men of steel to quivering lumps of jelly.

We males do not speak of it! It is an ancient incantation that we males fear above all others. Even now, we refer to it as the-words-which-must-not-be-spoken. I shall not type it out directly for fear of causing heart attacks to any male readers, but for those who must know, it starts with "Do you think" and ends with " I’m fat?"

Men of every race, culture and nation are faced with the prospects of being tormented by this terrifying phrase, for, in spite of us living in an age of unparalleled technological advances, we are unable to formulate an effective counter to the-words-which-must-not- be-spoken.

We have tried hard, but nothing works.

Be truthful? Well, that’s easy if the truth will do (i.e. she’s slender). But what if that’s not the case? If I really wanted to meet my maker, I would choose a less painful method, like death by the Iron Maiden or by Hanging, Drawing and Quartering.

Lying? Don’t bother--- women are incredibly at reading facial expressions and detecting lies. As a female friend of mine put it, “Lying to men is like taking candy from a baby. The other way? Well, try taking meat away from a lioness.”

Diversions? A couple of my friends attempt to divert attention from the-words-which-must-not-be-spoken by making completely unrelated comments like “Wow, your hair looks really good today” or “I think Mango has a sale.” Ambiguous answers? “Well, being slim is subjective and relative...” Well that might work in the caveman era...

Alas, when Prometheus gave mortals fire, why didn’t he also teach males how to respond correctly to the-words-which-must-not- be-spoken?

Disclaimer:
I would like to clarify (to my female friends) that if I said you weren't fat, then I honestly thought you weren't fat. I make it a point not to lie to girls (although that's mainly because I'm a terrible lier rather than due to principles) .

Fear of Fencers

2005-03-07T23:01:00.000+08:00

I’ve developed a newfound fear of a female friend after she told me she fenced and had been trained by the national coach. In fact, I’m leaving her identity secret for fear that she may “epee” me when she returns to Singapore.

For those who mock at my timidity, I’ve included a photo of her favoured duelling weapon, the Epee. Make no mistake--- it’s deadly!

Henceforth, I’m going to be very careful with my words around her. Shoot your mouth around a fencer and it may be the last thing you do: I certainly don’t want the situation below to occur:

Me: xxx
Fencer: Are you trying to imply that I’m fat*?
Me: No no no, that was not what I meant!
Fencer: En Gande! (whips Epee out from handbag**)
Me: Umm, there’s no need to get testy. We are all adults. (steps back furtively)
Fencer: You are within my killing zone***. There is no escape.

*Just for the record, this particular friend of mine is quite svelte, but for some inexplicable reason, she seems to think the contrary.
**It may seem physically impossible to store an Epee in a handbag, but handbags seem to be bottomless storage devices which contain everything from purses to pepper-sprays.
***According to another fencer friend, every fencer has his own killing zone which is determined by his/her weapon and athletic ability. Once someone enters that region, he is vulnerable to the fencer’s attack.

Me: Ugh, that was a fatal blow. Could you help me tell Tim that I forgive him, my mom that I love her, and…
Fencer: Sheesh, my Epee is designed to be non-lethal. You can’t die from it!
Me: Oh, like Kenshin and his reverse blade sword.
Fencer: Yup.
Me: Oh, then tell Tim that I won’t forgive him until the day I die!

Belief

2005-03-02T15:00:00.000+08:00

I may be inadequate now, but one day I’ll be good enough…

I’ll not sure how long it will take, but one day I’ll be good enough…

Believe me, one day I’ll be good enough…

Why Guys Don't Dance Latin Ballroom

2005-02-24T00:09:00.000+08:00

I recently did a report for a friend who wanted to know why most guys lack an interest in dance (for her Latin Dance Club). It's not exactly the best piece I've done (since I only spent a couple of hours on it and my writing skills have deteriorated greatly since entering NS), but I'm in the mood for a dance post, and I don't really want to lament my terrible dancing abilities.

Introduction

I will examine the reasons for a lack of interest in dance among males, and will attempt to provide possible solutions.

Male Psyche

While there are many different reasons for why most males are unwilling to dance, three reasons are most prevalent. They are fear of failure, fear of being perceived as effeminate and apathy.

Fear of Failure

Some are unwilling to dance because they think they are uncoordinated. Most guys are insecure and do not want to risk embarrassing themselves, especially in front of girls. This can be further explained by most guys lacking the rhythm and coordination of girls, and hence progressing at a slower rate.

In addition, some have been led to believe they are lousy at dancing because of a terrible mass dance experience. This is normally caused by them being forced to practise a certain routine in an inadequate period of time.

Fear of Being Perceived as Effeminate

Others are worried that if they take up Latin Ballroom, they would be associated with being effeminate or gay. This is the same logic which explains why so few guys knit or cry in public.

Apathy

Another segment of the male population has neither objection nor interest in dance, and thus sees no need to try it. However, this also means that it is possible to incentivise them to attempt dance.

Reasons Guys Dance

The three main reasons why males start dancing, in descending order of importance, are to impress girls, to appear hip and pure interest in dance.

To Impress Females

Many guys start dancing because their girlfriends force them to, because they are trying to woo a girl who dances or because they want to improve their desirability via the ability to dance. I personally believe that for Latin Ballroom, this is the strongest pulling factor, and should be acted upon.

Popular Culture

Others do so because they want to be perceived as being cool, a factor that can be used to explain the popularity of Hip-Hop (as well as Break dancing) and Salsa, in spite of them being dances as well. However, this may not apply to Latin Ballroom since it’s relatively unknown in Singapore.

Love for Dancing

There exists a small population who start dancing because they think it will be fun. However, this constitutes a small percentage of males (relative to their female counterparts).

Do note that guys who persist in dancing usually do so because they have grown to love the sport, but this normally occurs after they have started dancing. The impetus to start normally comes from the above two reasons.

Suggestions

I am of the opinion that a movement to improve the male dancing population should consist of a targeted marketing campaign as well as a focus on creating a social environment which sustains their interest afterwards.

Targeted Marketing Campaign

Both genders are more likely to take up dancing if they are accompanied by their friends, but it is significantly harder to gather a group of males who are willing to dance (clubbing seems to be the exception). This could be facilitated by offering special rates to groups of guys, i.e. 50% of the original price per person if a group of four or more guys join together.

This will not hurt your bottom-line as, firstly, your club is paying your instructor by hours taught rather than by number of students, and, secondly, the number of guys attending each class is rather low.

Another similar strategy would be to offer preferential rates to girls who bring a partner (friend/boyfriend). This has the additional benefit of providing both with a partner, with whom they can practise as well as dance socially. Such a campaign would vary according to the dance and crowd you wish to draw: for example, if you had wanted to start a Rumba class and wanted to draw couples, your advertising campaign to girls could emphasis its being romantic nature and it being a love dance, while a campaign targeted at males could focus on its sensuality and it being an activity that would please their significant other.

Sustainable Dance Environment

A long-term strategy in getting guys to join would be the creation of a dance community, or a sizable population of people who can dance, as well as ample opportunities to utilise this skill. Unlike other dances like Salsa, Latin Ballroom lacks social dancing settings, meaning that students do not have a chance to use what they learnt outside their class. The absence of this community would inevitably mean difficulty in recruiting new students and heightened student attrition rate. I believe that this can be partially stemmed by having regular practice and social sessions.

This would also enable weaker students to learn from the better dancers, reducing the number of students who leave due to inability to catch up. The nature of dance classes means that missing or not understanding a lesson would greatly affect a routine, and this may drive away otherwise enthused students.

Ultimately, I believe that your club should focus on repeat sales, as students who have signed up for a class have shown that they are at least open to dancing. Thus, if possible, the club should find out why students drop-out, and act to minimise it.

Dinner Party

2005-02-21T00:01:00.000+08:00

Zee Pursuit

[Transcript of what was said]
Jean Paul Kok Heng: Mademoiselle, you are zee mozt peeerfect lady I have seen.
Pei Zhen Hepburn: ...
Jean Paul Kok Heng: I have zeen countless betiful Pariz women, but mon cher, none have captured my heart like you. Like zee lion hunts zee gazelle, my heart seeks you.
Pei Zhen Hepburn: ...
Jean Paul Kok Heng: Voulez vous couche avec moi?
Pei Zhen Hepburn: Get away from me, you lecher.
Jean Paul Kok Heng: Moi, lecherous? Your words hurt me, mon cher, like a dagger through my heart. Je ne suis pas lecherous! I'm French!

Disclaimer: The above conversation was pure fiction. And do excuse my interjection of ungrammatical french.

Mafia Poster

Darryl, me, Kok Heng, Ken and Pei Zhen trying to pose for a Godfather movie poster.

Let Me Love You

2005-02-14T13:00:00.000+08:00

Mmmm ..... Mmmmm.... Yeah....Mmmmm....Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Mmmm...Yeah....Mmmm..... Yeah, Yeah

[Verse 1:]

Baby I just don't get it
Do you enjoy being hurt?
I know you smelled the perfume, the make-up on his shirt
You don't believe his stories
You know that they're all lies
Bad as you are, you stick around and I just don't know why

If I was ya man (baby you)
Never worry bout (what I do)
I'd be coming home (back to you)
Every night, doin' you right
You're the type of woman (deserves good thangs)
Fistful of diamonds (hand full of rings)
Baby you're a star (I just want to show you, you are)

[Chorus:]

You should let me love you
Let me be the one to give you everything you want and need
Baby good love and protection
Make me your selection
Show you the way love's supposed to be
Baby you should let me love you, love you, love you

[Verse 2:]

Listen
Your true beauty's description looks so good that it hurts
You're a dime plus ninety-nine and it's a shame
Don't even know what you're worth
Everywhere you go they stop and stare
Cause you're bad and it shows
From your head to your toes, Out of control, baby you know

If I was ya man (baby you)
Never worry bout (what I do)
I'd be coming home (back to you)
Every night doin' you right
You're the type of woman (deserves good thangs)
Fistful of diamonds (hand full of rings)
Baby you're a star (I just want to show you, you are)

[Chorus:]

You should let me love you
Let me be the one to give you everything you want and need
Ooh Baby good love and protection
Make me your selection
Show you the way love's supposed to be
Baby you should let me....

[Bridge:]

You deserve better girl (you know you deserve better)
We should be together girl (baby)
With me and you it's whatever girl, hey!
So can we make this thing ours?

[Chorus:]

You should let me love you
Let me be the one to give you everything you want and need
Baby good love and protection
Make me your selection
Show you the way love's supposed to be
Baby you should let me love you, love you, love you

[Mario (talking):]

Let me love you that's all you need baby

Valentine's Day Introspection

2005-02-14T01:01:00.000+08:00

How is it that I’ve taken up cooking and dancing, two activities I never thought I would?

How is it that I’ve become acutely intolerant of mediocrity, especially towards my own self?

How is it that I no longer think of marriage as the tombstone of life’s pleasure, but instead as the wellspring of joy?

How is it that someone whom I barely met could have such a profound effect on me?

How is it that I was willing to wait had she asked me to?

How is it that my new ideal for a life partner resembles her so much?

How is it that I’m unable to will myself to forget, even in the face of overwhelming logic?

Why Would Anyone Want To Have Children?

2005-02-12T22:52:00.000+08:00

I cannot understand why anyone would want to have children.

People talk about the joy of watching your child grow up. Well, let me debunk that misconception.

Infant (0-1.5 year old)

Now, in my opinion, this is the only tolerable development stage. Infants are so cute! Limpid pools, cute hand actions, nascent sounds. Sigh. Why can’t they remain at this stage forever, and not grow up to become nasty brats?

Toddler (1.5-4 year old)

Toddlers everywhere have this word, or sound, which they use in practically every imaginable situation: WAHHHHH. If their diapers are wet, WAHHHHH; if they are hungry, WAHHHHH; if they are bored and have nothing better to do, WAHHHHH.

Oh, I do concede that adults have their own ubiquitous word, but while it offends the ear, it doesn’t deafen. Fuck!

Pre-pubescent (4-12 year old)

Ah, the quintessential brat. Picture this: you and your spouse are out at some fancy restaurant. Her face is illuminated by the faint candle-light, she leans forward and you whisper sweet mutterings into her ear while stroking her hair, but suddenly…

Brat: PAPA, I DON’T WANT TO EAT BROCCOLI!
Me: Hush hush. Broccoli is good for you.
Brat: I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT BROCCOLI! I WANT SPINACH!
Wife: But dear, you said you wanted broccoli just now. And didn’t you say you hated spinach?
Brat: I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT BROCCOLI! I WANT SPINACH!

Well, a nice romantic dinner with your significant other has just turned into a meal from hell. Suddenly the spotlight is on you: those without children are now silently cursing your guts and giving you dagger glares; those who have children are now offering commiserative “been there, done that” looks.

To silence the brat, you have no choice but to order spinach, in the faint hope that it will placate him. However,

Brat: I DON’T WANT TO EAT SPINACH!
Me: What! Didn’t you clamour for spinach just now?
Brat: I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT SPINACH! I WANT BROCCOLI!
Wife: Now dear, don’t be unreasonable. You said you wanted spinach just …
Brat (cuts his mother off): I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT SPINACH! I WANT BROCCOLI!
Me: Now you apologise to your mother this instant. You can’t…
Brat (cuts me off): BROCCOLI, BROCCOLI, BROCCOLI …

All primary school teachers ought to be awarded medals of valour.

Adolescent (12-18 year old)

Adolescence marks an important development, the evolution from bratty to condescending. However, just like uncooked and cooked lemon juice both taste sour, this transition is moot, for they are still as irritating as ever, just in another form.

Child: Hey Pop, do you know how to play Warcraft 6?
Me: Pop?
Child: Get with it. Pop means dad in our lingo. You know, the speak of us fashionable people.
Me: Right. Anyway, I don’t know how to play it.
Child: Oh pop, get with it. How can anyone not know how to play WC6?

Young Adult (18-25 year old)

This stage has its ups and downs. The bad side is that your children become a lot more independent and start attributing any dissonance in thought to you being old-fashioned.

The below conversation on premarital-sex was an actual one I had with my mom when I was 18:

Mum: If you really love a girl, you ought to wait until you marry her.
Me: Ah, that’s just old-fashioned.
Mum: What if you get her pregnant?
Me: Just use condoms.
Me: Besides, there’s a difference between pre-marital sex and promiscuity. I won’t have sex with someone unless I think I’ll marry her. If I do get her pregnant, then I’ll marry her. The mentality that one must be a virgin till one’s wedding day is anachronistic.

However, the good part of this stage is that one has more time to spend with one’s spouse: cooking, dancing, etc---all the stuff that couples do together before their lives were robbed by the births of their children.

Full Adult (25 or older)

Just when you thought that you had your life back, you realised that it was merely a reprieve.

Son: Dad mum, I have great news.
Couple: What would that be? By the way, you really should join us in the Bahamas if you have the time. We are having the time of our life.
Son: xxx (his wife) is pregnant!
Wife (squeals): That’s great news honey!
Son: Um Dad mum, we (him and his wife) are a little busy with our work, so we were wondering if you could come back and help us look after our child.
Couple: Well…
Son: Please? I’m sure he won’t be hard to look after. In fact, I bet he will be as easy to look after as I was.
Me (sardonically): I’m quite sure he will be.

Now why, why in the world would anyone want to sire little monsters that grow up to become large monsters? Why in the world would I want little Daniels and Danielles* running around, depriving me and my wife of the companionship that we swore to each other on the altar? And if they are anything like me, they would probably ask irritating questions like “Daddy, why did you have children? Don’t you realise that we are all diabolical leeches?”

*Danielle is the standard female version of Daniel; don’t be a wise guy (this goes out particularly to my colleague, Daniel Lim =P)

Thus, if the topic of children comes up between my wife and me, I shall muster all the distaste that I can possibly summon, and say, bluntly and firmly, “Sure dear.”

Most women are maternal, and while I don’t believe in being a door-mat, I also believe that forcing this issue means certain divorce. I guess I will just have to become sufficiently inured to the notion of children. Who know, I may even grow to like it.

Masculine Post

2005-02-10T18:21:00.000+08:00

In order to stem accusations that my posts are gay, I have decided to try posting in a more male-like manner.

Huge Disclaimer: Some may find this post offensive. If you are not comfortable with the topic of sex, please skip this particular entry. I emphasise that I do not normally write in such a lewd way, and I mean no disrespect to females. I'm just trying (and failing I think) to be sarcastic.

Method 1: Prefix every few words with fuck or fucking

I went to the fucking gym yesterday, and I saw a couple* fucking. Fuck, they were arguing over who should use the fucking machines. Why don’t they do it somewhere else, like a fucking room where they can have some fucking privacy? A gym isn’t meant for such fucking activities.

*Heterosexual couple

Original text:

I went to the gym yesterday, and I saw a couple. They were arguing over who should use the machines. Why don’t they do it somewhere else, like a room where they can have some privacy? A gym isn’t meant for such activities.

Method 2: Insert phallic references and sexual innuendos

The following extract was taken from a conversation between Mr Sausage and his girlfriend, Virginia. Mr Sausage was trying to bring Virginia to catch the fireworks atop a mount-ain, but had unfortunately lost his way.

Virginia: I can’t believe you’ve lost your way!
Mr Sausage (sheepishly): It is really dark. I mean there are so many roads and streets, but only one tunnel leads to the mount-ain.
Virginia: Sheesh!
Mr Sausage: I don’t understand why you won’t let me use the other tunnel.
Virginia: Don’t be so anal! Besides, with your shitty driving skills, you wouldn’t be able to find it too.
Mr Sausage: …
Virginia: No no, don’t turn left, go straight.
Virginia: No no, a little more left.
Virginia: Down down.
Virginia: You seriously suck at this. I could drive with a single finger and find the tunnel in less than a minute.
Mr Sausage: Well, that’s hardly fair since you have more experience. You drive through this tunnel practically everyday.
Virginia: Don’t blame me. I wouldn’t have to do so if you could drive me. Besides, haven’t you taken your past girlfriends to see the fireworks before?
Mr Sausage: …

Virginia: You must have at least found the tunnel right?

Mr Sausage: ...
Virginia: God, no wonder you spend all your time waxing your car. Every morning and night right?
Mr Sausage: …

[After five minutes of directions]

Virginia: You’ve finally found it.
Mr Sausage (with a sigh of relief): I have haven’t I?
Virginia: Oh man, your engine is sputtering! And we are not even at the foot of the mount-ain.

[Virginia gets out of the car]

Mr Sausage: Where are you going?
Virginia: I’m going to see the fireworks with Mr Rabbit**.

**This DOES not refer to the actual animal.

Only Thyme Will Tell

2005-02-07T09:00:00.000+08:00

While peeling potatoes last Sunday, a thought griped me, much like a crab pinching my finger. In fact, for a moment, I thought a crab was pinching me, except that the nearest thing I had to a crab were crabsticks, and the last time I checked, they couldn’t move.

But don’t let crab distract us; I was wondering why I am so enthused about cooking? What could drive me to master a skill I previously viewed as unnecessary and esoteric?

As always, the prime suspect is a woman’s charm. After all, there have been countless cases of males taking crash courses in cooking so as to impress their special other during special dates like Valentine’s Day or an anniversary. However, unless I particularly wish to wine-and-dine my alter-ego, I doubt that would apply to me. And please spare me the rancid notion that I’m doing this to butter up girls. That is so fowl an insinuation that its asserter ought to be roasted in hell, preferably with lemon juice on top.

Perhaps so I can cook when I go overseas? But if so, why am I concentrating on impractical aspects like garnishing and appearance, as well as desserts and exotic dishes which take forever to make. In fact, Ken chive-d me the other day, saying I always choose recipes more suitable for dinner-parties rather than for daily-consumption.

Real-love for cooking? Or maybe to batter myself? Nah!

Pretty fishy if you ask me, but I shall stop carping for it’s distasteful. The reason for this sudden passion then? I don't know, only thyme will tell.

Hard Decisions

2005-02-07T01:43:00.000+08:00

I have decided to do something that I always knew needed to be done but never had the will to enforce. This particular decision will entail no overt displays, but sometimes the greatest changes are internal. Ironically, the date for this: 14th Feb.

Oh How Hard We Work

2005-02-06T23:55:00.000+08:00

“You have such a slack job!”

The above accusation was uttered by a female friend, and I think it’s highly unfair. To show the extent of the injustice done, I have decided to adumbrate a typical working day.

0800-1000: NSF rapport-building session (Read: NSF bitching about their bosses)
1000-1130: Do work while concurrently complaining about regulars via MSN
1130-1300: Lunch, which is also normally spent grumbling about our superiors
1300-1430: Work, on top of discussing why our higher-ups are so screwed up.
1430-1730: Another rapport-building session

As you can see, we are very committed to our work. Not to mention that it takes a lot of effort and mental capacity to think of pithy and intellectual statements (to be used during our rapport-building sessions) like “NS sucks” or “regulars are losers”.

In fact, at this very moment this entry is being crafted, a friend from another section is playing “Championship Manager 4”, no doubt to keep his mind sharp so he can better meet the needs of the SAF. Gosh, the extent of our diligence and dedication surprises even me.

Complacency

2005-02-06T20:58:00.000+08:00

I find it so amusing that I get all smug about stuff I barely know or understand.

Take for example dance. It took only one compliment from someone I was dancing with to get me all swell-headed; it also only took one advanced class after that to send me crashing back to reality.

Or cooking. One particular cooking party which did not turn into a debacle lulled me into believing that cooking was easy, and that it was a matter of time before I became a great chef. Well, a failed mushroom sautéed with butter after that quickly dispelled my gastronomical illusions of grandeur.

What differentiates the aforementioned from plain complacency is that I’m usually my harshest critic. Isn’t this situation so ironic (god, I love the word ironic; it has become my new catch-phrase)?

Cooking Photos

2005-02-05T22:03:00.000+08:00

I've been in this huge cooking frenzy lately, and I decided it was fitting that the first proper meal I cooked (trial cooking parties are not considered) was for my family.

At this point I would like to mention that while I had all the intentions of being the filial son, my family was extremely unwilling to give me this opportunity to mess up the kitchen. My sister in particular had to be assured that there were instant noodles and Campbell soup in the kitchen before she reluctantly agreed.

Ah, a personal steak favourite of mine (although I've only tasted it twice): Pan-fried Steak with Shallot-Gorgonzola Butter. I do realise that a red rose is not often used as a garnish but I'm the chef and what I say goes. Muhahaha! Oh, and I bought that rose for my mum, not for anyone else (just averting any questions since V-Day is approaching).

Red Meat, Red Rose, Red Wine

Another shot, this time with the red wine in view. Hmm, the plate seems a bit bare. I would blanch some broccoli to add a nice red-green contrast, but that means we have to eat broccoli. UGH!!

Chocolate Coconut Fondue

For dessert, I whipped up a chocolate fondue. I swear, they don't call chocolate liquid gold for nothing.

Dimmed Lights, Blazing Fire, Missing Pot

Strawberries dipped in chocolate, topped with icing sugar, and served in candle-light. How much more decadent (or romantic) can we get?

Before I end this post, I would like to thank Colin for all his cooking tips and advice. It has really helped me improve, and I appreciate it greatly. Thanks so much.

Bitching Tutor Wanted

2005-02-03T23:22:00.000+08:00

This goes out to all girls: I’m in need of a tutor who can teach me how to bitch. Preference will be given to applicants who specialise in the following subjects: NS, dumb blonds and George Bush. In addition, it is best if you are not easily offended, for my last tutor got a little pissed when I started bitching about her during our lesson. What a bitch!

My current standard (while watching The Simple Life):

Me: I can’t believe Paris Hilton is so dumb!
Friend: Blah blah blah
Me: Yeah, she’s worse than dumb. She’s um.. ummmm.. ummmmmm.. very dumb.
Friend: Yakety Yak Yak
Me: Yeah, pathetically dumb!

If you are interested, please contact me at guywhocannotbitchfornuts@hotmail.com. Please attach an audio recording of one of your bitching session, and I will get back to you if you are hired. If not, don’t worry; as a consolation, I’ll bitch about you. Thank you for reading this post, and please don’t bitch about me.

Dumb Suggestions

2005-02-02T17:34:00.000+08:00

Oh god, this is unbelievable---my boss just approved three of my suggestions to improve the office and I’ll be getting $10 for each of them. I don't believe this: I’m getting paid for submitting incredibly dumb suggestions.

One suggestion, in particular, really takes the cake: “Install a stove in the pantry so NSFs can reheat food.”

Reason 1 (why it's so ludicrous): Redundancy

We already have a microwave, which, the last time I checked, was used to reheat food. Perhaps I ought to have stated in my suggestion that the stove ought to be placed next to the microwave so NSFs can choose which machine to use to warm up their food. Sheesh!!

Reason 2: Safety

18 year old guys and a stove.

That’s as potent a combination as a speedster and a gasoline truck, or Bush and the US presidency. Not to mention I’m in the office, and anyone who has cooked with me knows just how dangerous it is to let me go near a heat source.

However, I’m got better things to do than to ridicule. This money needs spending.

Dance Songs

2005-02-02T15:30:00.000+08:00

Ten of my favourite dance songs (in no order of preference; note that some of them require remixing)

1) Sway by Pussycat dolls (Cha Cha)
2) Let’s get loud by Jennifer Lopez (Cha Cha)
3) Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps by Doris Day (Rumba)
4) No Mes Ames by Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony (Rumba)
5) Take My Breath Away by Jessica Simpson (Rumba)
6) Three Times a Lady by Lionel Richie (Slow Waltz)
7) Moon River by Frank Sinatra (Slow Waltz)
8) You Light Up My Life by Leann Rimes (Slow Waltz)
9) Blue Danube by Johann Strauss (Viennese Waltz)
10) Waltz to the Moon from FFVIII (Viennese Waltz)

Sway

2005-02-02T14:48:00.000+08:00

Sway by Pussycat Dolls
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

Sway me, take me
Thrill me, hold me
Bend me, ease me
You have a way with me

Sway (sway)

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway I go weak
I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Sway me
Sway me
Sway me now

For those who aren’t familiar with this song, it’s a Cha Cha from the movie “Shall we dance.” And what an apt song for dancing---the tempo is just right, the lyrics are apt and the song is energetic.

Unfortunately, I overestimated my dancing capabilities and stumbled pretty badly when I tried to practise to this song (2,3, fall & fall anyone). I need more lessons, and a partner!

Cooking Disasters

2005-02-01T22:55:00.000+08:00

I just realised that my cooking experience, short as it may be, has been fraught with comical situations.

Disaster 1: Chocolate Truffles

The instructions were simple enough: add two tablespoons of alcohol to melted chocolate. Fool-proof? Perhaps, but not Daniel-proof. In my moment of sheer stupidity, I positioned my measuring spoon right above the chocolate (in a bowl) and started pouring. The first tablespoon was fine, like the tranquil scene that precedes the scary parts in horror-flicks. But, halfway through the second tablespoon, the bottle slipped.

Well, I wanted to make alcoholic chocolate truffles, but I wound up with chocolaty-alcohol.

Disaster 2: Chicken Français

FIRST ACT

SCENE

The kitchen in my apartment. Three aspiring cooks are watching over a pot of chicken being simmered.

Kok Heng: How many more minutes before the chicken is done?
Me: It has been in there for fifteen minutes already, so give it another five minutes.
Ken: Umm, what’s that? (pointing to a bowl of minced shallots)
Kok Heng: Oh no, that ought to have been in there ages ago. (points at pot while reading the recipe)
All three: Oh shit!

[A flurry of activities proceed as the intrepid heroes try to save the day by throwing the shallots into the pot, while avoiding the steam that erupts once the lid is removed]

SECOND ACT

SCENE

The kitchen, where the indefatigable trio are preparing the sauce.

Me: Lets see, fresh lemon juice. (pours juice into a saucepan filled with chicken broth and starts mixing)
Ken: Umm, the recipe calls for two teaspoons of lemon sauce.
Me: Yeah, why? (continues mixing)
Kok Heng: Oh no, you used two tablespoons*.
All three: Oh shit!

*One tablespoon is three times that of a teaspoon

THIRD ACT

SCENE

The dining room where the aspiring cooks are about to sample their creation.

Ken: Hmm, this wine is pretty low grade. Too bland for words. Never tasted worse wine. (swirls a glass of wine)
Kok Heng: Well, bon appetite.

[All three begin eating]

Kok Heng: Well at least the chicken’s cooked, but it’s a little bland. If there were some condiments, it would be perfect.
Ken: Ah I know. Could we have some chili sauce please? (beckons to my maid)
Me: Chili sauce?! Who needs chili sauce when we have home-cooked French sauce. (Beckons maid to ignore Ken’s request and instead serve the French sauce)

[All three ladle sauce over their chicken]

Me: I can’t taste anything but lemon. Ewww, and what are these lumps?
Ken: Shallots, but they ought to be softer. And come to think of it, we forgot to strain the sauce too.
All three: Oh shit.
Kok Heng: I think the chicken without any condiments is perfect.
Ken: I think the wine is the best part of the meal, and on second thought, the wine is pretty good.
Me: I think we need some chili sauce. (beckons to maid)

Benedict Arnold

2005-02-01T17:16:00.000+08:00

As I sit here, contemplating on what I should write, it strikes me that my knowledge of the arts is extremely limited, non-existent even. However, two years in the JC Science stream have equipped me with the necessary defensive mechanisms.

The four steps to deal with such thoughts (in chronological order):

1) Deny

“I’m well-versed in the arts. I’m well-versed in the arts. I’m well-versed in the arts…(Rinse, repeat and recycle)”

2) Belittle

“So what if my knowledge of the arts is limited? What good is it? Physics will allow me to become an engineer, and my life will become meaningful.”

3) Disparage

“Those arts students are too diaphanous for words. They need to be less abstract and be more practical like science students.”

4) Blame

“It’s not my fault---my teachers did not expose me to the arts. Blame them, not me!”

Fortunately, I am not a loyal science student. So excuse me while I do a Benedict Arnold, and jump ship. Tata~!

Waiting

2005-02-01T10:45:00.000+08:00

If you had asked me to wait a year, I would have gladly waited a year…

If you had asked me to wait two years, I would have gladly waited two years…

If you had asked me to wait four years, I would have gladly waited four years…

…but why didn’t you ask me to wait?

Exaggeration

2005-02-01T01:31:00.000+08:00

I’ve been mortally insulted. Someone had the audacity to comment that I exaggerate. Me, hyperbolise? Oh perish that utterly groundless and anal notion. My kingdom for a lynch mob!

Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps

2005-02-01T01:14:00.000+08:00

I once had an interesting conversation with a rather cynical female friend, who had the view that guys always have ulterior motives or are insincere when giving compliments. For example,

“Oh, are those Pearls? I love Pearls”
“I love Pearl Necklaces…”

“Oh of course you are prettier than the girl over there”
“Wonder if she would like a Ménage à trois?”

“You are looking very pretty tonight”
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir ?”

I have always wondered why the actions and words of a male must be scrutinised through the looking-glass of skepticism? Can’t he have innocuous reasons for his comments---perhaps he wants the girl to feel appreciated; perhaps he simply wants her to feel good?

Perhaps not everything males do is linked to their libido? Perhaps we live life for reasons other than sex? Perhaps perhaps perhaps…

Squishy Mushy Sentimentality

2005-01-31T10:32:00.000+08:00

Chocolate Truffle a la mode Daniel

Disclaimer: The following post will read like it was made by some gushing schoolgirl, but quite honestly, formal (or even semi-formal) stoic writing has its place and time, and this is not it. Besides, cooking and baking always brings out the feminine me, so I may as well live the moment.

Oh I made my first cake-like truffle! Isn’t it absolutely divine, and so sweet! Actually, my friend made it for his Special Other, but I taught him how to do it. *basks in delusional glory* I think heart-shaped chocolate truffles trounces a cake. I mean it’s more thoughtful, less passé, and not to mention that chocolate is an aphrodisiac. The only problem is that the dessert’s sinful, absolutely sinful---there’s nothing in there but chocolate, cream, and sherry.

All in all, we spent 8.5 hours on this creation, but I think even protracted slaving over the stove in a hot and stuffy oven is worthwhile, just as long as it makes that special someone happy. OH NO!!! What am I saying? Sigh, I think the old stolid Daniel melted away months ago, and is destined never to return. Ah well, who am I to tempt fate?

I think I’m now a whole lump of squishy mushy sentimentality (try saying the last three words; it has a nice rhythm).

Sales Techniques

2005-01-30T22:45:00.000+08:00

I just realised why books teaching selling techniques have so many detractors --- the techniques might have been used successfully by the authors of the books, but transferring them from paper to actions is no easy feat. However, some critics may go too far in their slamming, for while one may not be able to use the skills immediately, it does provide one with the necessary framework and knowledge which will enable one to learn faster.

Let me explain my point through a deal I botched because I committed a cardinal error: trivalising a customer’s concern. I was trying to convince a mother to send her son down to my tuition centre. The deal was going perfectly until she voiced concern about our scholars having inadequate knowledge. Moot point, I thought to myself, since after studying for A Levels, O Levels becomes really simple. Not to mention that my tuition centre is manned by scholars; scholars may often be regarded as being too bookish, lacking street smarts, being too muggish, having no entrepreneurial inclination, etc, but something which people do not deny is that we do well for examinations (no representation of intelligence though).

Thus, I replied as tactfully as possible that it was a non-issue, spelling out just how qualified we were. Well, at that point, she seemed relatively satisfied with my answer, and I moved on, dispelling her other concerns. At the end of it, she agreed to enroll her son, and asked me to call her once I confirmed the classes.

I called her two hours later and I found an apologetic parent who told me that she had decided to renege on her promise. The reason: after much thought, she decided she would prefer an experienced teacher instead, and that as much as we were scholars, our two years of teaching experience was insufficient. This was a worry that she did not raise during our conversation though I asked her repeatedly whether she had any other issues.

In retrospect, I attribute this to my trivalising her concern about the teaching ability of scholars. I’m guess her doubts were not adequately quashed, and started festering, leading to the ignominious ending.

Lesson: Never patronise, trivalise or brush away concerns. Listen carefully and empathise. There is no point listing out all the benefits of a particular product or service if there are some lingering objections; always solve it before continuing.

So how does this lead back to my point? Without such books, introspection and post portem would be rather useless since I wouldn’t know where I went wrong.

Proof? I just got off the phone: I managed to get a parent who had similar reservations to sign up for lessons.

How Ironic

2005-01-23T06:44:00.000+08:00

I sometimes wonder why one should bother to blog. What does one seek to achieve by writing a quasi-autobiography? An emotional mouthpiece? Hardly, as one has to practise self-censorship unless one particularly wants to trample on other people’s feelings. In this respect a blog pales in comparison to a personal diary, where the word personal actually means something. A literary canvass? Perhaps, but not everyone is endowed with such talents (in particular, I’m having trouble with even a coherent blog entry). A complete and all-exhaustive daily account of what one did? Possible, but shouldn’t recording and archiving be left to bespectacled librarians and historians? Fundamentally, a blog is very much linked to self-exhibitionism, a virtual stage of sorts, where one shouts “look at me.” Thus for the longest time I wondered, and still wonder, about the sanity and utility of keeping a blog.

But the aforementioned points are moot since they are contained within the very subject they seek to criticise; in essence akin to Adam munching on an apple while commenting that he shouldn’t be doing so. I can imagine what Colin, my Literature mentor, would say: “How ironic.”