Happy Teachers' Day
Hmm it's a bit surreal, to see American cities flooded like they were in Bangladesh. You get the impression, after a while, that the United States are indestructible, that calamity will never befall them, that they may as well be living in another world. But here comes the biggest hurricane in living memory, and after bashing its way through the Caribbean it slices into great America, only blowing itself out when it gets to the Great Lakes. And you're reminded that nobody's immortal. And the images of destruction and flooding and despair make America seem to belong more to the real world than ever; one is reminded that they too can, and must, feel anguish once in a while.
Probably the only country more delusional and unlikely than the US is Singapore.
* * * * *
It looks like I'm triple-booked on Mon next week. Was supposed to go to school for makeup lessons. Then MAS sends this invitation to a tea session, which I wanted to decline anyway. And then MFA changes their tea session to clash directly with the MAS thing. Heh, if I were a conspiracist, I'd say they were forcing you to choose between the two, much like RJ and HC always schedule their open houses on the same day. But oh well...it looks like MFA's going to have to take precedence.
Other uni application things...hmph. I'm beginning to reconsider whether it's such a good idea to offer free help for the uni apps. People are starting to look at me suspiciously. Well, it would be a lie to say that I don't expect anything in return, but heaven knows I'm not going to ask for it. The playing field is already unfair enough as it is, and the original idea was to maximise gains by minimising the competition a la Game Theory. But it seems like whatever I can do will not be enough to defeat the competitive mentality of this particular game we're playing. So, for the record, here are the ground rules I will play by:
I will not expect anyone to offer me help.
But I do expect the usual amount of respect for my privacy and integrity.
I will offer anyone help, but the amount and nature of help will be determined by me, because of the sensitive nature of the information that I may hold.
I will not deliberately gear to harm any one person's chances.
I will always avoid infringing other people's dignity and privacy.
Of course, it may seem a bit weird, taking all that trouble to get into a good strategic position and then not using it. Bluntly put, I just enjoy the feeling of security. And the feeling of security is reinforced not by frightening other people off, but by building goodwill.
And I realise that it's hard not to sound arrogant when I'm talking about this issue. It's just that I haven't gotten used to all the ramifications of this particular strategic position yet. Strangely enough, I find it much easier to offer assistance to people in science. Perhaps it's cos their applications are to wholly different faculties, so there's no direct threat. And maybe it's also because I know so much less about their courses, and I can help less, that allows me to be more carefree with it, instead of having to worry so much about upsetting the balance too much.
I wonder if anyone else is playing by rules - any rules - in this game...
* * * * *
Heh, I seem to be seeing everything in terms of WAVW. Probably that's because I've finished the quote thematiser for it! Managed to keep it from overshooting 50 pages. The ending of that script is superb stuff...the construction of the plotlines is so intricate that I ended up quoting virtually every line on some pages, because there are just so many patterns and connections to investigate. The whole play is a masterpiece of reality-construction...the way Albee brings in elements from earlier parts of the play to haunt the plotline near the end is brilliant. I especially like the superb and incisive irony of the actual death declaration...the echo of the previous story is so devious that it cuts like a laser through the consciousness, and I can only stand in awe at George's (and Albee's) tactical mastery. Those people are really pro players.
Tomorrow, shall start on the last Quote Thematiser of these two years - the Heart of Darkness one. Hopefully it won't be nearly as long, though I do think it's an equally rich book, if not richer. Of course, this is only the easy part, the enjoyable bit. The hard part will come when I'm trying to memorise bits of these two books.
* * * * *
Teachers' Day today was really really good. Got a sizable proportion of the class down in school, and all our teachers were there too. Purvis brought along his sister (the real "Jean", as it were =P) and his niece, while Rolly brought his three kids (who are stunningly beautiful...no wonder they can actually do child modelling). A bunch of us got presents for each of them. The best was a Lego boat for the Conradian Sea Captain, Batchelor, and a placard for Purvis warning Oxbridge people to stay away from him (a good idea, if I do say so myself =P) And of course, each tr also got beer (one or two bottles, depending on how confident we were of scoring in the prelims...which is why Tay ended up with an armful of alcohol...).
It's rather sad, really, though it was a very nice little party we had going there. This is going to be the last Teachers' Day ever (they don't celebrate it in uni, do they?), and our teachers have been excellent, every single one of them. I don't think I can explain what I think of each of them...they're really too complicated as people for me to be able to do justice to them with my meagre linguistic grasp. But it has been...enriching. An enriching two years. And it has been a pleasure to be in their classes. And it's great to know it's a two way thing.
Heh...to think there were so many troubles to begin with, back in the beginning of last year. But somehow or other, I find myself at the end of the tunnel, having grown to treasure this class and its teachers. These three classes. Our batch of Humanities people. What were the right decisions that were made along the way? How is it that the intersection of all our experiences have resulted in such a wondrous construct? I've no idea how it happened, but somewhere along the line, something right happened. And it is a real pity that it's only now that I begin to appreciate that.
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
Heh, been doing the WAVW Quote Thematiser, and it's growing out of control, I think. I seem to be quoting every line that's not a one-word remark, and I find myself practically prac-critting every page of the script. It looks set to break the 40-page mark. And to think that the RoTN one, which was formerly the longest, was only 28 pages. But surprisingly, I find myself really enjoying it. It's a self-sustaining process...because the patterns that Albee has weaved into the play are so intricate, discerning them is a pleasure in itself. And it does make things easier when I agree with his viewpoints.
Heh, and looking closely at the book again, I find that there actually is a surprising amount of material to support the view that the play is a commentary on the Cold War, a view that I originally thought was way too far-fetched.
Mmm first day of prelims went quite well, I think. Had fun for the two subjects we had...GP and Lit. For some reason I did the questions on religion for both, and as a result, by the end of it I had inadvertently written two religious tracts about my own blend of religious philosophy. Heh...I should publish the GP essay. Always wanted to see how well my religious philosophy would stand up to argumentation. Well...religious epiphany aside, the PC comparison question was hilarious! Hehheh...the Heaven poem (by Rupert Brooke if I remember correctly) owns! The Almighty Fin is my new superhero.
Mmm I love my new phone. More specifically (since I still can't operate the message typing system all that well) I love the radio function. And I love Lush 99.5. Not sure what genre exactly they fall under. I figure that they mostly play lounge music...light techno or jazz, stuff like that. The station basically comes across as a rather Metro thing, catering to hip young people with lots of money. They boast that they never play two commercials in a row. Which means that between every two songs they stick in a commercial spot. But at least it's tasteful, and some of the random stuff they stick in there is quite funny...Aaaand also been listening in on the World Service. Reception's none too good, but that's basically how I've been keeping up with the news, especially the Hurricane Katrina stuff.
Heh, interesting how BBC on radio works. Really quite innovative, I think. While other radio stations just play voices and music, BBC really stretches the imagination. They do this kind of walkaround thing, so you have shows in which you can hear hurricane winds howling around you (which is an interesting experience, especially when you're walking along in sunny Singapore) or the city sounds of Japan.
So now that the news is coming off the radio waves, been watching much less BBC on TV, which is just as well, cos Greg bought back Band of Brothers DVD from Yunnan. Been watching one or two episodes every night. It's a brilliant show. Very atmospheric. You really fear for your own life when you watch those soldiers going into battle. And the realism is so accurate that the drama is effectively also a documentary. The psychological stress of war is manipulated to perfection - which is why I can only watch one at a time. Night sequences are especially harrowing. And the bayonet sequences. How can one bring oneself to just stab someone who's in front of you? Shooting, though still abhorrent, is conceivable, because of the distance, but bayoneting is an altogether too intimate form of murder.
I guess partly it's also because you know that this is based on a war that has happened before. In a sense therefore the people on the screen are not just characters, and when someone dies onscreen, you really feel like a real person is gone. It's like living another person's memory. Of course, I also know that HBO must have sanitised its portrayal of WWII, otherwise the show wouldn't have been aired. But still, war is so distant as a concept that we'd believe what we can see. And the deep emotional impact of the show (I would even say I feel sympathy for the characters) is like a seal of authenticity.
Hmm...speaking of Yunnan...Greg was showing us the photos he took from the trip. Six hundred shots, two times more than the two-week trip in Taiwan last year, and a full five times more than the one-month Frexprog experience. Heh...that kid sure likes his digicam, and the fact that someone brought along a laptop helped, cos all the photos could be downloaded. But the kunming that I saw on the screen looked nothing like the city that we visited five years ago. Back then, all I remember of Kunming was the dust. And a convenience store opposite our hotel. And that episode with the tuxedo...But now, Kunming is positively Little Singapore. There's a whole commercial district that didn't exist five years ago. When you see changes as monumental as that in such a short span of time, you intimately appreciate the pace of China's development.
He didn't go to Lijiang to see the Dragon's Beard Glacier, the Stone Forest, or the Old Town in Lijiang, which is quite a pity, I think. The glacier was most exciting, and the Stone Forest was just surreal...so much stone practically floating in midair. And they didn't get to sleep in a school. Heh...no nighttime encounter with a starfield outside an outhouse for them, no huddling around one measly heat pack in the freezing morning either. Ahh...even if it was uncomfortable, the novelty of freezing made that experience exciting. It appears that this year, the Yunnan trip was much...cushier.
Teachers' Day ceremonies tomorrow. Was writing the cards for the teachers at Mel's just now, and it occurs to me that it's very hard to say anything without sounding trite. Heh, I practically apologised my way through Purvis's card. The problem is that whatever that you can think of saying has already been said so many times over, which makes it clichéd. And it takes a lot of ingenuity to make that quantum leap to something apt that someone hasn't thought of yet. But there are, practically speaking, only so many ways to say Thank You. There is so much that I would like to say to them, so much that I have to be grateful for, but then I would start sounding sappy. It's a big problem, trying to find a way to say Thank You that's not boring or uncomfortable.
But yeah...our two years are almost up, sadly. We're already into the last leg of our journey. To be sure, we have been greatly blessed with good teachers, teachers that would go the extra mile for us (see, I've already used two clichés), teachers that actually try to be interesting, and most importantly, not because they feel like they owe it to us, but because they want to. Therein lies a sincerity in intention that makes the whole learning experience much more precious, I think.
Bored in the Face of the Prelims
So that was the last week of school. Mercilessly productive, it passed in a daze, because I wanted it to be over with so we could start with the next phase of the journey towards the A Levels. It still is dreadful, the A's, but after a certain point the tension just becomes bathetic and you'd do anything for the dreaded thing to be over and done with. If it doesn't kill you, the tension will make you stronger, and thus the torture can get boring after a while.
Prelims technically start tomorrow, though we only have the two GP papers and the Lit PC paper to deal with, which is not too heavy. Nevertheless, felt a bit off kilter today, because there wasn't much to do. Started on the quote thematiser for WAVW, and spent the better part of the morning and afternoon going through the first act. Beyond that, the only other thing of note today is my breaking in of the new phone.
It's a K700i, with all sorts of cool functions, the most useful of which is a pretty good digital camera. It's got most of the capabilities of the big digicam that my family has, except that its pictures are much smaller. But I can see it coming in useful =P The only trouble is that there's currently no way to get the pictures out of the phone, since I don't have a connecting cable to the computer, and using the internet is really expensive. And that means that all the fancy internet browsing abilities are also restricted for the moment (for some reason the phone can act as a modem too...). But it does have something entertaining that I can use - a radio. That is by far my favourite thing right now...at least until I find a way to get the photos out of the phone =P
Heh...spent like three hours just tinkering around on that phone, rather than studying useful stuff like Econs or Hist. It was a sort of feverish filling up of time. The truth is that I don't feel particularly bothered that the prelims are upon us. Maybe it's cos we've had it hanging over our heads for so long that we've accepted its inevitability. I think partly it's also because this isn't the first prelims I've gone through, and we all know that it's really not make or break. And probably it's healthier for everyone to put it into perspective and see it as what it essentially is - a dry run that counts for nothing on the actual certificate itself.
In other news then...on Friday afternoon went out with Kats, KHwee, Kath and Andre to lunch at Cafe Cartel. Hehheh, it was hilarious =P It felt good to be able to slip back into the old secondary school mode of doing things. All of us were a bit deranged, I think...it struck me as slightly feverish, the conversation over lunch. Hehheh, it probably had something to do with the heartening sight of a pile of fried meat in front of us with lavish helpings of bread and butter (!) on the side. But somehow or other we ended up reminiscing about the religious experience we had watching Shaolin vs Evil Dead 2. That was muchly fun...and I only realised that I had been practically yelling with laughter when recounting the plot when we walked out and we could breathe normally again. I imagine we must have attracted lots of attention with our loud talking in the restaurant - but you know what the beautiful thing was? We were so caught up in out insular little world that nobody noticed what other people were thinking of our noisy merrymaking =)
And I forgot to write here about that badminton bout we had on Monday. Wiggy, me, Kats and Yiting at the concourse whacking those helpless shuttlecocks all over the place. Very therapeutic...that must be what they mean when they say one has an aerobic high. I have to say that Yiting can sure whack. Took one right in the gut, and was rather surprised by the force behind that thing - even though it was feathery and designed to bleed off energy in flight, it still managed to leave a sting. And after that, I spent most of the game sententiously avoiding the volleys that she sent towards my head every now and then =P But yeah, if one doesn't aim to win (if one doesn't aim at all), badminton is very cathartic. You can hit that shuttlecock as hard as you like and not worry about anyone getting hurt. And you can always hit it straight up if you are still concerned =P At the end of it the feeling of pleased tiredness is rather satisfying. As are the aches and pains the day after...
Oh, and speaking of aches...my having to go back to CMPB on Tuesday morning meant that I had a bit of time on my hands before I had to go back to school for Maths lec. I decided to use that to take a detour while walking back to Redhill station. My intention was to walk around a block on the other side rather than following the bus route (if the bus route is given by the vectors a + b, then I wanted to walk b + a). But of course the workability of that plan depended on the road layout actually being in grid form. Which it wasn't. In the end I had to overshoot the station by a lot before finding a lateral road that brought me back to it.
But all was not lost. It was still a relaxing morning spent wandering down the main roads of Redhill. Discovered that Redhill is very much like Toa Payoh, a mature estate with its own distinct atmosphere, except that it's not as cluttered or built-up or old as Toa Payoh. And to my delight, I actually managed to find a short cut by leaving the main roads and cutting through the HDB blocks. Heh, I figure it must be rather odd for the residents to see this all-white figure walking towards the apartments rather than away from it. Heh, it's rare enough to see someone walking such a distance.
Oh well...nothing more of interest to report, really. Shall go off and finally get down to sending off those shirts to the Taiwanese. I've been promising myself to do that since the National Day week...
Oh! Hehheh seems like the first person to send me a message on the new phone is Yundi from the old OG. And hot on his heels is Soph. If there is a deeper significance behind me even bothering to record this, I'll be eager to find out =P
Steve Vai
Ahh...listening to Steve Vai, this rock guitarist, who wrote what he calls a rock fable. Unsettling music, but the concept is intriguing, and you can see how the music is used to reinforce the story that he wrote. Nice music, all things considered, and I'm just taking a bit of time now to enjoy myself before going back to finish off A&C documentation.
Was talking to Pui Man about universities stuff on the way home today. Hmm...the process of application is under way, and I want to get it out of the way as soon as possible so it won't interfere too much with the prelims. I don't know whether it's actually a good thing for her to apply to Cambridge's Law...it may not fit what she's looking for. And anyway personally I support much more her bid to study in France, which I think is really brave and novel, and she clearly wants to do that much more than to go to the UK. And while this may not be true for all people, I can safely say that I support her French bid not because I want to improve my chances at Cambridge but because I genuinely want to see her enjoying her studies and uni life. Heh, sometimes I'm quite surprised at the inverse symmetry...I (and she too) always expected me to be the one to go to France. Strange how these things work out.
Anyway. Too much university talk creates unnecessary stress, and ended up discussing guitar music. Which is why I'm listening to Steve Vai now, admiring his impressive fingerstyle. Hmm...this sort of excursion, once in a while, is important for me to maintain a sense of perspective, I guess. To remind myself that there are other people existing and living outside the contained universe of our three classes. People who aspire as well, who have different perspectives, and who are similar to me in such surprising ways. And then there are the people who belong to a special category, people with whom I feel completely secure. When you find someone like that you don't let go at all costs.
Speaking of perspectives...I am determined to avoid the poisonous pitfall of complacency regarding universities. I shall believe my placing in any university only when I see the admissions letter. If I permit myself to start living as if I already have a place, that would be asking for trouble when disappointment comes, and anyway it would be utterly poisonous to the frankness and openness that I value so much. So I hope you'll forgive me if I don't play along in the praise game...it's a self defensive thing, I can't permit myself to start down the slippery slope of self-absorption.
Hmm...I find myself in a remarkable strategic position in this whole universities affair, however. In a position to genuinely help other people, not only academically but also psychologically. Was asking for opinions on my personal statement today. I know that showing other people my statement before they've written theirs is a bad strategic move, and it also opens up the possibility of me exerting unseen influence and pressure on the others. But I hope that everyone can take it in the right spirit. It's not meant to be intimidating, and I don't expect anyone to try to copy it consciously. Heh...the most important bits in my statement that are unduplicatable, I believe, and anyway, the bottom line is that I have grown to trust my schoolmates. Some more than others, to be sure, but I get the feeling that, after all this time, I can rely on them to have at least basic honour and respect, if nothing else. And this trust, and the strength of my position as reinforced by Purvis, has allowed me the luxury of playing the game with my cards on the table, openly and frankly. I realise that without this combination of factors I'd probably have to be more careful with what I do with my data.
Oh well...enough moralising. Been inspired lately to write, but nothing concrete has come of it. I think it comes from doing three lit books at once...finishing up Conrad, documenting A&C and transferring my Atonement notes to the new book. Lots of material there to write on. But no actual writing has been produced. Partly because of a lack of time, I guess. Ah well...I hope to have one last stint of writing before the prelims properly begin next week. Just to get all the urges out of the way, as it were =P
Reflections
What a stroke of luck. Yesterday Chern introduced me to this YFC thingy where you could get to meet a huge bunch of past and present scholars (mostly studying in UK), which was rather useful. Got people on PSC and FireFLY, and people living in the UK, and even this guy who's actually done SPS at Christ's, and is currently doing his SPS Ph.D there too. That was a real stroke of luck...so now there's a way to get an inside look =P Heh, actually meeting someone who's doing SPS at this moment makes that aim seem much more realisable now. If someone's done it before and lived to tell the tale then it begins to look less like a fantasy and more like a feasible option. But I expect that when we're actually doing SPS, then we'll look at our juniors with the same degree of wisdom and assurances.
Spent yesterday doing uni stuff, filling in lots of the forms. Bleh...when filling in the UCAS stuff I realised that the French AO qualification doesn't count for a single thing now. The system informs me that the French AO scheme was scrapped in 1987. And now, looking closely at the certificate, it doesn't say Alternative Ordinary...just Ordinary. So I find myself in the position of having two O levels for French. Well...I don't really mind the redundancy, and all things considered, last year's French classes were rather fun. But I wish they'd told us from the start, that we wouldn't get an additional qualification.
Why the LC doesn't offer French A's outright I don't understand.
Anyway...yesterday got a nice surprise from Yvonne from Texprog who sent a message. Arh...I do miss those kids. They'd be finished with their high school already, and probably all thinking about what to do next too, if I'm not mistaken. Everyone's got futures to think about. In my most frustrating moments it's hard not to think back to what I've left behind through these years, the friends and acquaintances in other countries, and the more carefree times, when there was a clear point to work towards, and more time to do it in. I resolved back then to find some way to find them again. If I do end up in the UK, one of the top things on the agenda would be to pop back to Lyon to find the Tills. I need to devise a plan to return to Taiwan and look for the kids again.
On the night that Greg was flying off (Friday night), I was lying in bed thinking back to Yunnan, and I was surprised to find out how much of it I actually still remember. Lots and lots of it came back. Not only the most memorable sights and sounds, but all the troubles too. And the people. It was a strange time, that...being among the youngest on the trip, and going with the SMGS kids. I remember I had so much trouble with relating to other people. But looking back now it's like viewing everything through a refractive lens...you remember what you felt, but you can't make yourself feel it again.
And suddenly I remembered something I hadn't thought of for years - I kept a journal when I was in Yunnan. It's like one of those archaeological finds that revolutionise mediaeval history...journal-keeping and sketching did not originate in Sabah in Sec 3, but in Yunnan in Sec 2. And I was really exhilarated by that revelation, and tried to find that old booklet - until I remembered that I'd let Mr. Yap, our chaperone, keep it. I didn't want it at the time. And now that I've kept so many journals, I see the value behind it. Even if at that time I didn't want to remember everything that I'd written in it.
God, I've been through so much. And left behind so much. The hard part, the things that you can't leave behind, the things that make it all worthwhile and also so difficult, are the people you meet when you're far from home and forced to rely on yourself. The people that, having no one else ot depend on, you find that you can trust. And though I always put so much importance in memory, after a point you have to admit that memory doesn't serve the purpose. There will always be this conceptual gap between the people that I remember and the people that I left behind.
* * * * *
Arh I still have the National Day packages sitting at the foot of my bed. Need to do them up, then fire them off to Taiwan, before I really get swamped by work.
Heh...been trying to write my personal statement, and not succeeding much, I'm afraid. I was planning to use Frexprog and Texprog as the showpieces, but I eventually only managed to fit them in rather awkwardly. And had to finish abruptly, even though I was trying very hard to think of enough points to fill up the 4000-character allowance. Ah well...will show Purvis for recommendations on improvement.
Got a new phone. Don't think I'll transfer to the new set yet, since I need to figure out what all those buttons do. Heh I fear that it may be too advanced a set for me. I only requested a camera, but the one that my parents actually got has all sorts of new-fangled features in it. And anyway, I'm sentimentally attached to the old Nokia...shan't throw away the handset that accompanied me to two kelongs, Genting, Taiwan and Thailand =)
Oh, and one more thing...happy birthday to Thong!
One Week's Worth
Bleh been really unconscientious about writing here. I've been intending to for some nights now, but my time's always been hijacked by university deliberations and work. Hmm...shall take things one at a time I guess.
First off, decided to go for SPS at Cambridge after all. I don't really know how to quantify what I feel about it. I wish I'd made my decision earlier, so things wouldn't be so complicated. As it is, it's an awkward compromise between two warring viewpoints. One is the one that tells me that I really want to do SPS (and I really do, after looking at the course options, which are all so intriguing as to be almost decadent!), and now my evanescent desire to find a course I want to do and a university I want to do it at has taken concrete form, and I should go all out for this objective, now that it's been clearly defined. The other one says that what I'm doing is unfair, because I'm undermining the chances of the four others who've already applied (and indeed maybe the chances of all other applicants), and my late entry into the race will have ripple effects on who wants to apply where and ultimately on the already dangerously stressed Mr. Purvis.
How to say this without sounding arrogant? The fact of the matter is that my application will worsen the others' chances, and they made the choice at the first instance, while I only decided to enter the race on Tuesday. I would feel better if there were a way to submit an application without affecting the chances of the others. But conditional probability plagues me. To be sure, the other side of the debate hints that it really is quite arrogant of me to think that my application matters all that much to the others. But there's still a sense that I owe something to them, now that I've done it. Something to compensate.
Hmm...but in a way, it really is a pressure off my back. After telling him on Tuesday, immediately I felt better. I guess it's because now I have something definite to work towards, and to have something to look forward to is always a booster. But now that the process has been set in motion, there are whole new pressures. Writing the personal statement, filling in those forms, choosing a college. I wanted to go for St. John's, then Pembroke, then Emmanuel, but they've been filling up so fast that I'm afraid we'll run out of places before I can confirm my choice with Purvis. There is also another consideration...not to choose the colleges that the others are already applying to. It's tricky, and a part of me wants to give control to Purvis. But that means more work for him, and perhaps a mismatch for me (I realise that architecture is a really important factor in my choice...).
* * * * *
Been trying to study concurrently when all these things are happening. Not very successful...three weeks before the bulk of the exams start, I've still to start on Lit, Math and Econs revision. Most of the time has been devoted to the S papers (particularly obtaining enough of a bank of poems so I can do the Lit S paper properly...to that end, increasingly I'm glad that I chose Sharon Olds and her powerful verse, what a critic calls "fire in the hand") and Hist, which entails a heck of a lot of reading. I want to start on Lit soon though, especially Antony & Cleopatra and Silas Marner.
Having finished the analysis of Virginia Woolf, we've now started to discuss the themes and issues of the play, which is a grand time of throwing about ideas. Heh, particularly fascinated with Albee's modernist and absurdist themes, particularly the problems of communication and reality. Seems to me that Albee is offering a critical commentary on the process by which people construct realities around them to further their own ends. The child-game is distinctly a sort of consolation prize for George and Martha, while Honey blatantly asserts self-delusion in her forcible forgetting of the whole night. But I don't see it so much as a play that cautions us from stepping entirely over to the "dark side" of delusion and forget our grounding in reality, but rather a play pointing out that we need always to be aware that we are living constantly in pretense, and that we should not pretend otherwise.
Reality as a construct, a function of habit, assumptions and preconceptions, a set of common rules that enough people agree with so they can function as a common foundation for social interaction. Thus, reality is essentially a tool, a useful structure through which one can have a common grounding to communicate and interact with other people. And the thing is that reality, as it is, is a product of consensus, rather than any intrinsic logic in itself (there are arguments that assert that even science is a construct, but one doesn't need to go to that extreme). Which is why the son seems so real; everyone agrees to regard it as real, including Nick and Honey and the audience. And that is also why George decides to put an end to the son; because by breaking their secrecy rule, Martha has elevated the child to a new level of reality, as now he exists in the minds of the visitors too, minds that are dangerously not bound by the rules of the game that govern George and Martha. And when George kills the child, for me, he isn't dragging Martha back kicking and fighting to ground her in reality, but demonstrating the power of consensus - the child-game is destroyed only because the weight of the consensus between Nick, Honey and George overpowers Martha's delusion. To be sure, the illusion constructed by the child-game is destroyed. But I think that what Albee is highlighting is not that the couple returns to reality, but instead the child-game illusion is merely supplanted by a more convincing, more acceptable, more widely agreed construct, the construct of normal life in which we all operate for convenience and out of habit, if for no other reasons.
And that's not even touching on the communications problem. If daily life is a social construct, an illusion independent from any inherent logic, then language itself is obviously a construct, whose functionality relies on the tenability and common foundation of the reality-construct of daily life. But then, how can I know that what I regard as reality is actually common with what others regard as reality? Misunderstandings and miscommunication occurs when the underlying assumptions about word meaning and implication differ too much.
Of course, I realise that this may be really self-indulgent. I'm rather delighted that we've ended the Lit syllabus with these more modern works, Virginia Woolf and Heart of Darkness. To be sure, these books speak louder to me because I happen to agree with what they're saying. Or, to go the whole nine yards into the postmodernist camp, I happen to agree with what I'm predisposed to think that they are saying =P And anyway, all this philosophical tract is largely irrelevant to everyday living. The paradox is that even though language is by no means an exact medium, it functions well enough as a transmitter of meaning most of the time. And even though reality is inherently a construct, it is so convincing and widely accepted that its questionability is usually not relevant. Ironically the flimsiest of constructs forms the strongest foundation we have on which we have constructed a very elaborate combination of social, political and economic systems.
That paradox may signal that my theory is wrong. But the main drawback of such theories is that it's based on perception, and everyone's perception is different. Therefore, in the type of circular logic characteristic of postmodern thought, they can't really be proven wrong and usually it's a matter of faith, really =P
* * * * *
Talked to my mum the other day about university choices, and I realise that actually my parents are rather wise people. Such a wealth of experience, and yet, such a scrupulously maintained sense of perspective! One day I must learn how to maintain that perspective no matter what I go through, that connection with a more basic, more commonly accepted level of reality (hmm...that sounds arrogant, but I can't think of another way to put it). A sense of perspective...lately I haven't found anything more useful than that.
Anyway we were discussing the problems of the civil service. I find myself actually believing her, when she says that at the top levels, the civil servants actually believe in what they're doing. And though obviously the promotion and appointment of civil servants is not a democratic or transparent process, the system still manages to put very capable people at the top. The thing is that from what she says, it may be that the system really does want to reform itself and change. Apparently, from her accounts, everyone except the people in charge thinks that their reformist leanings are just platitudes. Which does raise certain complications. With the clash between top-down initiative and bottom-up fatalism, which will win? Is the government strong enough to overcome the inertia and pleasantly surprise everyone with deep reform?
Somehow these people have managed to maintain a modicum of idealism (if what they have actually is idealism). There is a drive in them that I can only quantify as altruism. Of course, skeptical old me finds it hard to picture anyone actually willing to devote himself to the cause of the "nation". To me the stakes are unjustifiably high for a notion so poorly defined. But I guess I can understand a bit of it. The only thing that makes this place my home is, after all, the people. And I will feel obligated to work for Singapore only inasmuch as I want to look after the people that I know here. At the end of the day, after all, it's the people that matter. And, for that matter, I do think there is a sort of case for not defending Singapore against outside aggressors when it does come down to the crunch, if it means that lives have to be lost. Few ideas are worth dying for, and "Singaporean" does not rank among them, unfortunately.
This isn't really a defeatist line, I think. I wouldn't defend Singapore, not because it's not worth defending, but precisely because the people that entirely constitute it are too priceless to risk the cost of defense.
Hmm...there must be a way to unite the idealism and rationality. Civil servants may be many things, but I don't think they're daft. Heh, living with one does do wonders to change one's perspectives. And somehow, they've managed to balance idealistic aspirations with practical imperatives, to unite the two of them and make them complementary rather than contradictory. I wonder what it'll take. Self-delusion? Luck? Or do some ideals really lend themselves to practical implementation in this day and age?
* * * * *
In a few hours, Greg will leave for the airport to fly off to Yunnan. He's going on that Sec 4 trip that my batch had to forfeit because of SARS. Heh, looking at the programme, I recognise some familiar names. I wonder what he'll find there...I suspect the place has changed quite a bit, or at least the capital Kunming would have developed more. Hehheh, and I wonder how his batch will come to like Chinese domestic flights. They are positively thrill rides in themselves =P
Hmm...I remember the green glacier, the first time I touched snow (though admittedly it was really dirty), the village school, the warm hearts of the village folk, the children crowding around me as I wrote a dissident poem (in English, of course) and gave it to them for a present (hehheh, I wonder whatever happend to that poem...the power of words and all that), that sandstorm, that night we were deported to the girls' room, the morning when all sixty-odd of us were huddled around my one heatpack. And that night, when I accompanied JY to the outhouse, and, accidentally looking up, saw the bold arch of the galaxy striping across the sky so full of stars. That sky was the fullest starscape I have seen to date, and me and JY just stood in the outdoors, within range of the outhouse, gaping upwards. Magical times, Yunnan...the first trip abroad without family. It had its own problems. Heh...back then, fitting in was a biiiig problem.
Oh well. I wish him luck. I hope he does have an enriching time over there. Heh, and me, I'll stay ruefully here, reading history and analysing poems and trying to solve the university question. I do envy him his abundance of time, his position on the edge of a new adventure, his lack of pressures.
Wellbeing
Been feeling a bit down lately. At first attributed it to obsessive compulsion over Civilisation, which I just learned how to play, but then I discovered I was actually sick. Apparently caught it from Marcus, whoc was down with some kind of flu. Which explains why I haven't been overly inspired to do Lit S over the weekend, despite my resolution to straighten things out after Friday. Oh well, but at any rate, managed to keep things on schedule. Started transferring my notes to the hardback version of Atonement. It's a beautiful book, physically. And marking bits in it, I was compelled to use a ruler and stencil, because I had a feeling I was defacing the creamy stiff paper. But then practicality won the battle; can you imagine how much time would have to be spent on crafting annotations with a ruler? =P
Was annotating it this afternoon, and listening to the Yann Tiersen discs that Thong burned for me at the same time. Good grief, Tiersen is a genius! Composed the soundtrack for Amélie de Montmartre, and today there were some familiar tracks in the arrangement, albeit rearranged for concert performance. There was one particularly haunting one, a sad song that he added English words to, which offered a poignant counterpoint to the harmonicas and accordions. And there was the last track of the first disc, which was positively magical. Having finished a chapter of the book, I decided to listen to the track without distractions. It's the final theme for Amélie, if I'm not mistaken. And then I happened to look out, and it had just started raining. The sun was still out, and the rain was coming down very lightly, like dust motes that were stirred up by the wind into glinting streams. There were a few seconds when I knew I could make myself believe that it was snowing.
And as the song's strains continued, I went to look out the window, and outside there was one flag fluttering, two old women (one Chinese, one Malay) bringing in the laundry, and a family hurrying along the common corridor. It was almost like a scene out of a moral education film, except that there wasn't the triteness. It felt real, and yet magical. Perhaps it was the symmetrical contrasts in the scene - the harmonious Singapore society, the unlikely snow, the French music playing in the background. It was a moment of simple peace and happiness, of a sense of deep equilibrium, as if everything was meant to be like this.
After that the feeling lasted throughout the day. Went to buy a book from Borders on Thong's tip-oiff that they were having a 30% discount. The thematically-arranged anthology Good Poems is going to be my secret weapon for Lit S =P And then when walking towards the MRT station from the Cathedral, I had a realisation that my life was really a happy one. Not a lot of people will say that, I realise, but all things considered, I do think that I have been very fortunate, to end up at this particular nexus of experience, this particular intersection of our disparate consciousnesses. How things have worked out like this, I don't know, and I wasn't predisposd to pry. Was just suffused with a kind of general goodwill to everyone.
My charmed life with all these special people in this unlikely city.
Yesterday went out studying with Joel, and you could feel there was a compact between us not to talk about universities. I was studying collapse of USSR and making notes in Atonement, but the repeat telecast of the National Day parade on the TVs was distracting me. This year's parade was quite an extravaganza. Especially with all that military hardware rolling down the Padang, and the concurrent celebrations at the other locations. Anyway...after a while we put the academic stuff aside, and over a platter of fried seafood, Joel introduced me to Bruce Springsteen. A most intriguing songwriter and performer, that. His lyrics are unabashedly raw, carefully crafted to bring out the grittiness and urgency of ground-level American life. His subject is the aspirations of normal Americans, but he avoids the high-strung stuff like romance and democracy and hope. His songs are more about survival, sex and chaos, but overall you get the impression of a feverish, desperate sort of vitality.
And there it was, the sense of wellbeing, fingers oily, one headphone on one ear blasting the cries of Springsteen and his harmonica, eyes on the lyrics, and the feelings of the songs just suffusing throughout. Powerful stuff, that. And then we went for mass at Sts Peter and Paul, and Father Kenneth (I think that's his name) was back with his energetic service again. And by complete chance I found myself sitting in front of Ben Wang. Hehheh, I wonder who's responsible for creating all these connections. I want to shake the person warmly by the hand =P
I guess partly this feeling of sufficiency comes from the uncomplicatedness of this weekend. Determined to avoid university talk, keeping to a tight and clear schedule of work, and meeting good old friends. Yes, things were simple this weekend, everything had a clear purpose, and everything was in a clear and comfortable equilibrium. Such times are rare - but when they do emerge, one must be alert enough to seize them and enjoy them. And the bonus was that there were great people to enjoy them with this time round.
Chocolate Factory
Everybody! Go watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! It's fiendishly good stuff!
Went to watch after Lit S yesterday with Chern, Chunlong, Soph and Shiq. Me, I was craving something to do that would eliminate all possibility of thinking about work and universities. Even though it's only been a two-day week, it felt rather tense...like I was expecting something to happen, anticipating something decisive. Well, nothing decisive has occured yet. But the movie...magnificent!
Heh, I have to say it's quite rare when the movie of a book actually matches what you see in your mind's eye, but Charlie managed to achieve that, I think. The factory, wonderful and amazing and whimsical, also had a dark side. It was desperately whimsical, even delusional, and Willy Wonka's genius is tainted by a shadow of darkness that give the image that he has some kind of compulsive disorder. I didn't remember being so disturbed by a dark side when I read the book...so I conclude that rather than taking something out of the plot, the movie actually added something into it. Now how often does that occur? =P
The dark side...several haunting moment, like the extravaganza at the factory gates, when the singing dolls get set on fire by the fireworks finale and start melting to bits. And the mysterious Oompa-loompas, who seem to know exactly what calamity will befall the children before they occur, and are vindictively hilarious in their taunting musical numbers. And at the end, all the kids end up deformed after their strange and wonderful industrial accidents, their egos and appetites defeated in a fable-like fashion.
One wonders whether or not Willy intended for the kids to be picked off one by one, in order for him to make an heir of the last one.
There was a brand new subplot, about Willy Wonka's childhood, which was positively Freudian. Hehheh, he apparently had a dentist for a dad, so go figure...so Willy has this complex involving family and parents, because he never learned the love of a parent. I thought the plot was rather ingeniusly done. When Willy threatens to run away so he can fulfill his dream of becoming a chocolatier, his dad warns him that he won't find him when he comes back. And sure enough, when Willy does change his mind, he finds that their terrace house has disappeared, leaving a hole in the row. Years later the Great Glass Elevator brings Willy and Charlie to the dad's house, which is incongruously plonked in the middle of a desolate snowfield. If the removal of the house is not a clever metaphor for an emotional gap, then I should stop doing lit =P
But despite all the hints of darkness everywhere, the whole movie was still a fantastic thing to watch. The soundtrack rules! Hehheh, especially the wacky Oompa-loompa songs. But the symphonic pieces were also suitably whimsical and loopy to match the world of the factory. And the factory itself, imposing and awesome on the outside, is a great example of industrial architecture, while inside it hides all sorts of wonders that border on decadence. And the ideas! What kind of mind do you need to come up with Everlasting Gobstoppers, Three-Course Gum, chocolate mixed by waterfall, telechocolate and the Great Glass Elevator?
Hmm...I think there's a lot of clever cinematography in that film. Enough to do a full analysis on. It may be a tract against the decadence of Willy's self-absorption, a moral story against ego and greed, family-friendly propaganda and even an investigation into exploitation of primitive people for cheap labour. Hmm...you can see even death making a guest appearance in Willy's first grey hair. But that, I shall leave until such a time when I'm done with Lit S...
And anyway, such films are best enjoyed with a light heart. Like Charlie says, "Candy doesn't have to have a point. That's why it's candy."
All in all a great film! I shall buy the soundtrack. Heh, Chern says that she'll show this film to her kids. I say, why wait till you have kids? Everyone should go see it right now =)
* * * * *
It's a strange position, the one that I find myself in. On the one hand, everyone is sure that I'll get a place in the university that I want to go to, wherever that is. And everyone's sure that I'll get a scholarship. And to be sure, the realistic side of me has to agree with them that my chances, like the chances of all Humans people, are better than average.
On the other hand, it'd be stupid to look at it like it's an assured thing. I'd believe it when I see it. Strange things have been known to happen, and anyway, it's hard to make a prediction when you don't know all the rules of the game, especially what the admissions people and the interviewers are exactly looking for. It'd be a mistake not to prepare for the worst, and I have to say I've been neglecting that. Living with my head in the clouds, as it were. I should do some research on NUS, just to have all my bases covered. And anyway, it's worldwide ranking is quite good at 17. The only real problem with it, as I always say, is that it's in Singapore.
It's stressful to try to strike a balance between acknowledging my own strengths and not going overboard with it. And it's quite hard when everyone takes so much pleasure in pointing them out to me. Increasingly I realise that I deal with it by pretending that they're telling lies, but that approach has its own dangers. I know I need confidence, but too much of that can cause other problems too.
And anyway, there's the new problem of deciding exactly what I want to do. History or Sociology? And where? If it is the case that I can go anywhere I like, then what criteria should take precedence in the final decision? Cambridge or London? US or UK? And which scholarship? It's time to find people who've been through the process, and to talk to them about this.
But to be fair, it's not like it's a new problem. There have always been too many choices, too many interests, and no clear preference, and too many implications to work out. But for this particular choice, the choice of course and university, I don't think I can allow myself to delegate to other people. Strange, how when choices become more and more important, you want to have other people make them for you because so much is at stake, and simultaneously you know that you can't allow that to happen because so much is at stake. But I don't think it'll be a dilemma about whether or not I should take the choice. It's time to seize the time, like Robbie in Atonement. Time to seize it before it passes along.
National Day
Mom's back from her Europe trip! Mmm lots of Swicc chocs, and new age Swiss Knices called Swiss Cards, which you can fit into a wallet so you'll have no excuse not to be prepared for anything from now on =P Many souvenir-worthy things, like magnets and teaspoons with place names engraved on them and a Russian doll and of course, hundreds of photos! Switzerland is a beautiful place indeed. Their urban planning rocks...blending a village into a backdrop of sheer cliffs was a striking achievement. And Mom managed to go on a white-water rafting expedition in Switzerland, which looked uber cool!
And of course there were pics of Stratford-upon-Avon. I need to make my way there someday...go on a sort of pilgrimage. I want to see that park with the Shakespeare statue and all his characters surrounding him! I have a feeling that there's a really profound meaning behind having Shakespeare looming over his creations on his stone pedestal, but right now I'm not inspired enough to work it out.
And London! It's such an inviting place, every time I see it in photos. Seems like it's impossible to have a bad photo angle in London, because everywhere you turn there's interesting architecture, a statue or someone doing something weird. It's a world away from Singapore...modern, yet not cramped. Seeing the pictures of the park outside Buckingham Palace, the one with the column that Thong gushes over, I'm struck by the sheer amount of space there is in that city. And the clear blue sky, and the bright sunshine. I guess the tour group struck it lucky by touring the city on a perfect day.
I want more than ever now to go to London. You know that moment when I imagined myself in Yale and tears welled up in my eyes? Well, I had another epiphany moment when I imagined myself on the Thames. Hehheh I really hope I can have the chance to go there...
* * * * *
National Day yesterday was surprisingly good. By a strange twist, I did end up hosting someone...somewhat. On a lark decided to ask Soph whether she'd like to watch the fireworks live, and as things would have it we ended up at Esplanade at six something waiting for the air show to start. Hehheh, watching Soph getting all hyped up over the tanks trundling down the road reminded me of that year when the whole family staked out Changkat Changi Sec Sch to wait for the army procession to roll past as part of the National Day celebration - that was five years ago, if I remember correctly.
In the end I do think we were extremely lucky last night. As it worked out, my getting lost on the way to the Arts House two weeks ago paid off, since I knew the whole sequence of the air show, and was able to time our arrival at Esplanade. Was pointing out the planes to her as they soared overhead, and she was positively spinning around trying to record everything on her camera =P And then after the planes had finished showing off their afterburners and maneouvres, we went to Marina Square to grab some dinner. Found a food court at the top of the building totally by chance, and decided to call in there.
The Food Loft of Marina Square has an outdoor terrace overlooking the mouth of the River, which meant it had a perfect view of where the fireworks would start to go off. Which meant that the terrace was stuffed full of people half an hour in advance. Which meant that there was no chance of getting in there. But when I was helping her to buy a drink, happened to walk past the glass doors, and just as I was passing in front, the first of the fireworks spurted up from the Padang. Naturally I was disinclined to deliver the drink, having found myself in the perfect spot totally by accident =P
After that first bout of fireworks, we quickly abandoned our table at the food court, intent on heading outside to the big flight of stairs leading up to the shopping centre to get a better vantage point. And as luck would have it, we ended up on a raised outdoor walkway thing outside the shopping centre. We didn't manage to make it to the stairs before the fireworks really started pouring up. The cool thing was that where we happened to be standing at the moment gave us a perfect view.
The fireworks were very nice. The golden shower was really pretty...as if there was a golden cloud in the sky. And they reused the nifty star-shaped fireworks this year. And there was a real whopper of an explosion that created a huge red fireball with a deafening bang that drew shouts from the crowd around us. And after the two bouts of fireworks ended, the crowd burst into cheers and claps, and I couldn't resist whooping along with them =P
Yes...the crowd is very infectious. At Esplanade, when the planes roared past, there was this family behind us who had two little kids who were waving and yelling goodbye to the aircraft. And when you're pounded by the roaring jet engines, you also feel like screaming back at them. Soph remarked that Singaporeans are more patriotic than many people she knows, and I'll have to agree. It's strange, really, given all the griping that we do normally. You'd expect to see fewer people wearing white and red on National Day. But the whole city area was flooded with people in national colours. Granted, most of them were families with small children, but still, you get the feeling that they really do feel proud about this little island. It may be that they're easily taken in by the National Day propaganda and pizazz, but seeing all of them enjoying themselves last evening, I can't say for sure that it's a bad thing at all.
Me...I let myself be taken in by the spirit, even though I know quite well that it's all propaganda, even though I know that Singapore has lots of defects behind the shiny glitzy National Day facade. But knowing it is one thing, you can still believe in life on this little island regardless. This is still my home, and this is still a good place to live, and the whole setup is definitely constructed to rouse a people that is predisposed to be roused in this way. Tanks, planes, red and white, songs, fireworks exploding directly ahead, and above everything hangs an actual crescent moon in the clear night sky (though we counted only four, not five, visible stars). How can anyone not be affected by such a display?
Hehheh, maybe part of it is also because Soph was so obviously delighted, especially by all th boy-stuff, the military hardware =P It's always like this...when I have someone to introduce to the city and to National Day, I feel more patriotic and proud. Because there actually are things worth being proud about. When the fireworks were bursting over Marina Bay, and the colours were reflecting off the towers of Shenton Way, and the dome of the Supreme Court gleamed serenely to one side, and in front you can see the spiked roof of Esplanade and beyond that you know there is the bold white sweep of the Esplanade Bridge, how is it that you don't feel proud? One needs to be proud of what one has...to take a reasonable perspective, before one can properly work towards something that we don't have yet.
Later, hanging about at a cordoned-off traffic junction waiting for the crowds to clear, we could hear the Singapore Swing party getting under way with Gurmit Singh again safely and solidly at the helm, and we could see the spotlights playing off the towers downtown and the Swissotel (those people who had a room in that hotel last night must have had a first-class view! All through the parade the tower was repeatedly lit up by camera flashes). And it struck me...there was a kind of symmetry between what we were discussing (universities, and London in particular), the splendid scene in front of us, and the National Days of the past. On some level I expect that there will always be that same thrill. No matter how far I go (and I do want to go to London), I expect every 9th of August I will have some kind of patriotic surge. Maybe this time next year I'd be calling it "homesickness".
But yeah...all in all a wonderful night. Things have a way of working out on their own...
Catching Up
This is the 100th post!
Heh lots to talk about since the last post, not in the least about universities. But I resolve not to talk about that in the 100th post. We've been talking so much about it that it's rather sickening. All week long we've been having university talks, which could explain it. But all the same I wish it didn't dominate the agenda so much. Sure, all these considerations are important, but talking about all these issues all week long is not only stressful, it's downright boring. And after a while it becomes pointless, even decadent.
Which is why going to the book fair on Fri night was such a relief. For two whole hours didn't need to think about universities, but rather immersed myself in a sea of books! Most of it was still trash, but going on the first day of the Times booksale meant that there were more nice titles to buy. Came back with a scifi tome by Ben Bova, Saturn. About ten thousand political dissidents sent on a scientific mission to study Saturn in a rotating habitat. The blurb made it out like it was a study of how religion and science interact, which was why I decided to indulge in it and buy it even though I had so many other things to read. The trouble is that it turns out to be not as inspired as I expected =S But still, I'm looking forward to reading Youth by J. M. Coetzee. Saw it before, but didn't buy it at the time, and Shoojee says it's a good read. And Thong bought The Passion by Winterson, which too is something else to look forward to.
Walking back from the Expo sending Mel home, noticing the cracks in the pavement caused by tree roots thrusting inexorably and slowly under the concrete, and thought of the fragility of this construct we call reality. After doing so much of Heart of Darkness and Virginia Woolf, got lots of ideas about how both authors portray this thing called reality. It's a product more of consensus than of truth. Like money, which has value only because we all agree to think that it has value. But postmodernism aside, there was also a sense of age, of oldness. The worn concrete, the old tree. And then there was this sand playground at a tiny park near the train tracks. You all know how rare sand is in playgrounds nowadays. And then, walking home, there was the scent of burning incense paper in the air. The quiet streets of suburbia, and then strolling through the high-rise estate, and everywhere the smell of tradition. Seems like no matter how much we build and rebuild this city, the past will linger on.
Hist S lesson on Friday was fantastic. Chunlong had a great paper on Marx and Bismarck. That is one formidably analytical mind, and the arguments presented in the paper were clear and incisive. He's wanting to end up at Oxford. Seeing that kind of drive, I am more than willing to stand aside and wish him all the best =P Bah, here I go again about universities...Anyway, one last mention of universities then, because Mel's paper on cultural vs class identity woke up the old embers of interest in sociology. I always thought that studying people and societies and how they interact was an interesting prospect, until I actually read a sociology book, which made the whole thing seem as technical as economics. The same model-based approach, though with humans rather than economies. The approach goes against the fundamental notion that humans are too complex for models to adequately generalise. But her interest and passion in the subject has reawakened mine too...
Well, schoolwork aside, last week has been remarkably good. Was out with Joel yesteday night studying. Well, we really did study, after we chatted about universities =S Hmm...should not talk to HC people about universities, because they are all extremely driven, and you'll just end up intimidated and discouraged. Well, the good news is they're practically all going to Oxbridge, which means aiming for second-best would probably be safe =P We were saying yesterday that we must get to the UK next year, and through the PSC Scholarship. I do hope that I'd be able to do that. I have no doubt that Joel will end up in a UK university, even if he doesn't end up in Oxford. For my part, the crux of the problem will be that scholarship. All or nothing indeed. The hard part is definitely in getting there.
Anyway, it is useful to study with Joel...kind of like intellectual jogging, because he just motors on in analysing all the coursework. Was very impressed with his New Imperialism work yesterday...very detailed self-styled notes (unfortunately all handwritten), and he could carry out an argument on the spur of the moment, leaving me huffing behind, trying to warm up as fast as possible =P That guy is eminently prepared for the exams, and he is aimed at greater things indeed.
And to top it all off, it's always nice to see him again =P
Also saw Andre on Friday. Picked him up while Chern, Mel and me were on the way to J8 for lunch. We ended up in Yoshinoya, and naturally, since he's on his way to Cambridge, we talked about universities. Buuuut besides that we also found ourselves delving into childhood. Heh...I think my childhood was rather deprived. Thinking back now, the previous few years have been so memorable that my childhood memories all seem to be whitewashed in comparison. Hmm...I figure it's because of the lack of girls in my family. So we didn't do all those funky things that the girls were reminiscing about. Anyway. Was rather cool to see someone who actually came back from abroad. Another aim for next year: to get to the UK and visit Andre at Trinity College =P
As things turned out, managed to catch up with YS on Wed afternoon, and griped to her about my non-qualification for MLC (you start to get the impression of how repetitive my conversations have been for the last week...). Hmm...I do hope that she can get to do what she wants to do in university. It tends to be on the idealistic side, what she wants to do, but then again, I can't forget the indulgence that MLC represents for me. Anyway, after the prerequisite university update, we were talking about the Taiwanese exchange people in RJ. Heh, was remarking that it was so easy to spot the Taiwanese among the crowd of Singaporean students. And indeed, it is strange to be without Taiwanese (or anybody) to host for this National Day. Feels...not right. Especially after last year's combined Frexprog-Texprog thing. Ahh...those were fantastic days. Perhaps even the best days ever. I'm pining for something to do, someone to talk to, someone from a strange new place, to distract me from the routine of studying and worrying about next year.
Anyway, to my surprise, also got to catch up with Jes. After Mr. Hodge's Slug Club meeting on Wed. We ended up at the interchange Macs griping about scholarships and yes, universities too made an appearance. But I was rather glad that we had a consensus not to dwell on it. After all, it's been like a year or so since I last had a proper talk with her, and to spend it all on the stupid university issue would have been such a waste. Heh, actually, to tell the truth, we spent a lot of time laughing at the prospect of a PSC Scholarship. Put in perspective, it really is quite ridiculous, all the trouble that you have to go through to win a chance to sell your soul to the government. Phew...haven't laughed that much in a really long time.
It's a bit strange, I guess...we started out by agreeing to take turns complaining to each other, and ended up drawing stares because we were falling out of our chairs, almost =P But I do hope that she has more confidence in herself. And that she doesn't stress herself out so much. Since we're all stuck in this studying cycle anyway, we should try our best to enjoy as much of it as possible. It's important to keep a sense of perspective about things, otherwise we'll all drive ourselves nuts.
Yep...so that's it, the important bits of last week. I can't believe that the university issue kept intruding. We really must talk about something else next week. Maybe the fireworks will distract us. Heh, but the conversation topics aside, was rather surprised that I could catch up with so many people last week. All these old friends...they make me feel safe. Needed. Wanted, even. Was reflecting the other day on the train that I'm reaping the benefits of the wide social foundations I built in secondary school. But that would be too arrogant. The reason why I find myself with such a broad base of friends is not due to my careful planning, but the accident of relationships, the generous and warm-hearted responses of others to me. I'm indebted to their goodwill and sincerity. And once again, I wonder at how things have come to this, how I have fortunately ended up at this conducive intersection of experiences, of personalities.
Well...shall not get any more sentimental than I already am. I love my friends. And I thank them all for their friendship.
University Reconsiderations
Argh it's very very vexing! Discovered that actually I'm not qualified for the Modern Language and Culture course at UCL. Bah...turns out that even if you don't actually need a French A Level to take French in the course, you need a modern language A Level to even get in in the first place. Which means that probably I won't be able to take that course, that perfect fit between the language I want to do and the culture I want to study and the place I want to do it all in.
It's very frustrating because I was under the impression that I could do it at first. Didn't notice that clause that said that a modern language A level was needed. And once again, it's been painfully highlighted to me how useless that French AO Level is. I mean, it was fun to learn French for one more year, but I was expecting something functional to come out of it. I feel very betrayed by the LC people, who created the impression that AO was the equivalent of A Level for all practical purposes. Unfortunately, as I've discovered, it's not the case at all.
Of course, I may have just heard wrongly all those years ago. A part of me hopes that this is the case. So I can blame myself rather than the LC. If you get what I mean.
So that has created the necessity to change that nice little equilibrium that I had. The perfect fit, that sense of certainty and satisfaction at being able to say concretely where I want to go and what I want to do. Well...as I have been outlining to myself and anyone who had the bad luck of being bitched at by me, there are three options now. Either I go to Birmingham or Warwick to do that programme (since I am qualified in those U's to do it), or I learn to like another course at UCL as much as Modern Language and Culture (other attractions are UCL's History with a Year Abroad and History with an European Language), or I just throw everything away and go to the US (in other words change both the venue and the course).
For the first one, I really have no problem with doing it, because the course is really very attractive, my idea of the ideal course. But the drawback is that I won't be able to do the course in London (which is a big pull), and UCL doubtlessly has more credibility than Birmingham or Warwick. The second option is possible too, but the closest thing in those courses to cultural studies is cultural history, which is not too bad, but it doesn't include the lit and media components as much. I guess if I decide to stay in the UK at all costs, it'll come down to whether I want to change the course more than I want to change the university. In a perfectly competitive university market, I would choose the latter...but I can't ignore the practical limitations.
As for going to the US...Well. I didn't want to consider that option at all at first, firstly because I never considered US before, and doing so would worsen the indecision by opening up a whole new set of choices, and anyway I don't have SATs. And even now, I haev the feeling that I don't want to go to the US as much as some people do, and to consider doing so would only create unnecessary competition, and anyway I'd be disadvantaged by my lack of sincere drive to go there. But after the MLC debacle I was feeling despondent enough to consider the US, and Kels was helpful enough to point out some promising programmes.
Was flipping through the Yale prospectus just now, and was totally blown away. That university is downright beautiful! And the photographs were so wonderful...flipping to the "Libraries" section, seeing the delicate masonry on the huge building's facade, the wood-panelled reading rooms with vaulted ceilings and plush armchairs and fireplaces, and that enormous and amazing rare-book exhibition library, I could positively feel my heart going out to the university. Seriously, pictures like that can make you cry, they're that sublime...
But I realise that the US system is very different from the UK one...the prospectus offered tons of info on living conditions, CCAs and financial aid etc, while the whole range of courses was summarised on one page. Clearly their emphasis is different. I can see myself enjoying the whole range of activities and culture in the university. And then I went online to look for more detail on their courses, and the range is mind-blowing! There were so many choices that I got intimidated and stopped reading after like two minutes. The point has been clearly made.
I think at this point, if I were to go to the US, I'd go to Yale and do their international studies thing (though I haven't been able to bring myself to look at it closely yet). The big drawback is the SATs, which will have to be taken in close proximity to the prelims and the actual A's. And the expense of merely applying, let alone actually going there. And all that hassle...there are a heck of a lot of forms to fill in. It does take a lot of drive to even apply, since the complexity of the system just puts you off. I guess that is the start of the test to prove that I'm worthy to go there.
Haiyar...I feel quite weary now. Been thinking about this issue all week, and what with all the university talks we've been having, there's hardly been another topic on air. Don't want to think about it anymore. Shall talk about other news next time, I think. The Slug Club meeting called by Mr. Hodge, why I will not go to Oxford anymore, and the stress therapy yesterday =P Arh...but now it's time to sleep, I think. To stop thinking, at any rate.
