resilience

One Month Break

2006-03-19T21:21:00.000+08:00

Hmm...another one-month gap. Lots of things have happened in the meantime, but they're all recorded in the journal rather than online. Somehow I find writing in a real book more soothing, and it gives rise to more insights. I pay more attention to what I write when I really write it.

But anyway, for the record:
Wed: POP, seafood dinner
Thu: NE trip
Fri: Lunch with Chern, Tea with Yiting, RJGE stayover
Sat: Breakfast at Prata House, SMU drop-in, church
Sun: NUS open house, SMU open house, meeting Shengjie
Mon: Back to school, Esplanade with the guys
Tue: Lunch with YS, dinner with Ms. Ong and Joel
Wed: Lunch with Kels, dinner with Chern, Esplanade with the guys
Thu: V for Vendetta with the guys, dinner and Esplanade, exploits in Bishan, stayover at JY's
Fri: Class lunch, SPH writing test, dinner and Esplanade with RJGE
Sat: Lunch with Pui Man, church, dinner and Esplanade with Yvonne
Sun: Family day

As you can see, rather packed. Today was a bit of a relief, all things considered. Been to Esplanade every day as far as possible to watch the Mosaic festival, and they really have lots of good free stuff there! If only I could have gone for a paid concert, that would have been perfect...but ah well, not complaning about the quality of stuff on the outside. A tendency there for the quality to increase as the weekend approaches, so every day has pleasant surprises. And yesterday night saw the most vibrant and happy crowd that I've ever seen at Esplanade, which is really saying something.

But this week has been full of good people, I'm really grateful to everyone for being there. That's the most important thing about this leave - to catch up with everyone before they all move on to bigger things. It's tinged with sadness cos I can't get over the feeling that I'm being left behind, or held back, but still...this was something that needed to be done, I think. Special thanks to everyone for tolerating my moanings, and for cheering me up.

Anyway, wrote much in camp and out, in the journal. Two sections I extracted specially to make into stories, and they're now posted on paleblack. Maybe they'll give a better impression of what I've been thinking in army. But anyway, going back in tomorrow, and right now I think I'm as prepared as I can be. More or less resigned to things taking their own course. Just hope that my time there won't be a waste. And the thing is to keep my eyes on something bigger than this, some larger objective. That's the way to survive the mental trials of army.

BMT

2006-02-20T20:03:00.000+08:00

Wow it's been a really long time since I last wrote here...dunno if anyone's still keeping up with this blog. And already it's almost the end of BMT.

You know, every time you book out it's like going to another country on holiday. You go on a two-day-one-night tour of this fascinating and technologically advanced city called Singapore. You notice all the things that have changed, from the new building going up at the river's mouth to the fact that they've started using G series numbers in vehicle license plates. You look for the things that have not, and sometimes you find them there. But often you find people gone, doing other stuff. Time is unsynchronised, not like in school when everyone at least had roughly the same hours. You start to feel left out, left behind even.

Every time you go back into camp it gets harder and harder. There are fewer things that remain the same, and every time at the ferry terminal you have to let them go, and every time they cry out not to be abandoned. It's come to the stage when, strangely, I find myself not really sure whether I want to book out or not - the two worlds are so different, and transitioning between the two can be so wrenching.

But it's crucial to book out. After seven weeks you realise how isolated the island is from the outside world. Even the littlest things like running water and electric lights take on the sheen of the marvellous. And your scope of experience in Tekong is so narrow. Booking out is for you to maintain your brain, so that you can continue to think. So that you can remind yourself how to live a normal life.

The thing about BMT is that it's not hard. Some parts of it are actually quite fun, especially the field camps (except for the sanitary conditions, which do have to take some getting used to...). The natural setting is something wholly unavailable on the mainland. Some parts of it are downright scary, mainly the weapon handling aspects, and especially the grenade throw. But at least these are memorable. The main thing about BMT is that it's boring. I don't find it challenging at all. That's why, I think, the scope of experience narrows. Because there's no need for fore-planning, there's nothing to anticipate, so you only live from moment to moment. An insect-like existence, as Hardy would say, without any appreciation for the bigger picture.

I am looking forward, now, to the end of this whole military experience. It seems so barren. I think now that the novelty and surprise at its easiness have worn off, I understand better what Thong was saying about army. Don't hate it yet, but it's clearer now how limited the prospects are in here. It's hard to think about the future, it's hard to look forward. I still want to do this well, but I also want it to end as soon as possible. The challenge is not the physical strenuousness but the soul-draining monotony of it all...

Chinese New Year

2006-01-30T10:15:00.000+08:00

In army, your scope of existence is definitely limited. The people I work with are solid, dependable people, and we can definitely do what we have to do well. But what you can and cannot do is so circumscribed in there. Which is why, when bookout day comes, we'll all be looking forward to the outside world. To be able to have the chance to put all this new experience into the context of real life again, I guess. The prospect of booking out always adds a certain sharpness, and extra energy, to all that we do. Everything looks better in the light of the outside world. One thing that has to be said about army life, is that it really does make you appreciate things you have on the outside more.

And so it's Chinese New Year time! Congratulations and prosperity in abundance to all. Keep yourselves safe, everyone, and may the surprises keep coming this year! Heh it's good to be able to see the extended family again. Missed out on the big reunion dinner this year, so these few days would be the only time to at least catch a glimpse of their faces. Interestingly enough, they didn't really mention much about my hair. Which was just as well, really, because I don't particularly fancy repeating the same story over and over again.

Also met an old family friend who's currently working in MFA, and her French boyfriend who works in Hong Kong. Interesting convergence of circumstances, isn't it? Anyway her work does sound enticing...working on policy with regards to multilateral diplomacy, touching on stuff like ASEAN and the IAEA. (Oh, and I guess you'd want to know about the PSC interview too. It went better than I expected, actually. The people were rather nice, except for a bit of dryness here and there. Beyond that I can't say much. Results out in a month. The highlight of that day was actually not so much the interview but the two hours of free time after that in which I could be alone...communal living does take away something indefinable, the calmness of solitude, or something like that.)

Then meeting up with old friends too. Had dinner and went to Esplanande with Pui Man on Friday night, and yet again Esplanade delivers! There was this rather upbeat and optimistic Indonesian band called Mocca playing there...the songs were as hopeful and amusing as the stuff we'd do for Fruits and Veggies, I thought. And then halfway through the sky suddenly exploded with grenades of colour. The fireworks were definitely a nice surprise...didn't know that they would be letting any off on Friday night. I think the taste of surprises goes well with the bayside atmosphere. Just what a nice pleasant island like Singapore needs to make it really exciting - the tang of unpredictability.

And then tomorrow moving on to catch up with the Texprog people, and the class as well. Staying in the east side because book in is at 1945 tomorrow, which isn't bad, really. The trend seems to be that our book ins get later and later, which is a nice trend to have =P Dunno how things will work out tomorrow...I expect the army experience will tend to set the present apart from the past, and the boys apart from the girls. One just hopes that enough remains the same that we can continue to come together.

In other news...field camp coming up next week. I expect it'll definitely be an eye opener. It will certainly stretch some people to the breaking point. For me, I think it'll only be uncomfortable. The only real fear is of hurting myself somehow, and not so much the normal stuff like fear of snakes or spiders and so on. It's something surprising that I discovered, that I'm actually not the one least equipped to adapt to army life. I put it down to all the trips I've had the privilege of taking. Experience is a powerful defence, I've come to learn - once you know you can physically and mentally do something, that something becomes less fearsome. Anyway I guess we'll see what happens. The challenge will be how to keep healthy and to keep learning.

Also big weapon handling tests coming up. Interesting shift in perspective here, to come to see tests as something that doesn't need to be done on paper. I realise that in the beginning I'd not really taken weapons seriously. They were just tools to be mastered, not used in combat. It was one thing to be able to strip and assemble a rifle in record time, and another thing entirely to shoot someone with it. It continues to be a big psychological barrier, the prospect of firing a real rifle, of throwing a live grenade. It's something that scares me terribly, because for so much destructive power, there are only so few ways to control it. So many things can go wrong. And who will be able to take full responsibility for that enormity that we call a life?

Anyway, enough with the gloomy thoughts. Have to enjoy these few days because next bookout is rather far away, on the 11th! This weekend will have to create enough good humour and happy memories to last two weeks. Heh...after so long we still can't escape the pressure of time, eh?

A Change of Perspective

2006-01-09T21:52:00.000+08:00

Am back from camp! Hehheh it's been really all right so far, and nothing much to report (at any rate we're now apparently prohibited from discussing training for the large part...probably falls under the category of State Secret. I'll write more somewhere inaccessible, if I can find the time). Haven't really been about with the soldiering business, just getting used to standing in rank, being briefed endlessly, filling in a surprising number of survey forms, and addressing superiors. In fact it's much like OBS, I think, except with, shockingly, much better food =P Of course we're all aware that the real stuff hasn't begun yet...it's only this awkward placement of Hari Raya that's stopping the sergeants from really hammering us into shape. But so far...good impressions all around: nice sergeants, good section-mates, a solid and interesting platoon.

I have to say, particularly, that the strong point of this enlistment must be the change of perspective. While I'd be the last to say that JC wasn't wholly fun, there's nothing that quite comes close to the tight integration you can get in an all-male environment. It feels, really, like the unnecessary social strictures are stripped away to leave the barest of Spartan military protocol. And when you remove the trimmings the essentials become clearer - the need to work together, to think of the collective good, to take care of everyone else, and in so doing take care of yourself.

And it makes you appreciate the smallest pleasures to the maximum. 20 minute meal times become generous, standing in rank is better than marching along, wearing the jockey cap is better than the helmet, the one-hour break every night is Valhalla, and all this climaxes in the truly visceral experience of marching down the pier at Tekong and boarding the slightly rocking ferry. Everyone in high spirits, everyone's mind focused only on that one thing: to get on the boat without screwing anything up. The waves themselves look inviting. It came as quite a surprise, that, with your uniform still stiff with newness, your pack weighing on your back, you can take so much enjoyment in your boots sounding on the concrete floor, your eyes roving across the straits, and you and your buddy discussing how best to spend the next day.

It struck me that it was really like going on a one-day holiday, an overnight stay at a good hotel. Heh, it really is all determined by your sense of perspective.

Hmm...but I think fun and games will be over soon. Now we're practically just playing soldiers, dressing up in the costume, not really doing anything serious. But soon we'll get our weapons, and we'll go out for jungle training, to learn the real craft of being a warrior. Don't really know if I can accept that, really. The physical side, fine, it'll be good for me, definitely. But to have the power to kill someone else, regardless of whether it's justifiable or not - that is too much of a responsibility for me, I think. Even if it's in self-defence, to protect the things and people you hold dear, I'm not sure I can fire a gun or throw a grenade at another living person. The trick, I guess, is then to regard the enemy as inhuman, but at the moment it strikes me as inherently repulsive, self-delusional, even absurd. I agree with the need to protect the people (this nebulous entity, the "country", and the shadowy being, the "government", is another matter), but is killing another person ever worth it? What do you give up in so doing, and how do you weigh that the life of your enemy is worth less than that of your family? I'd rather have both, in truth, and this automatic assumption in the military that you can only have one or the other is an uncomfortable one.

Heh...so much for the military being a holiday from thinking. It's not that you don't think. There's plenty of stuff to think about, and plenty of time, over the last few days, to do it in. It's just that you really don't have much in the way of expressing it. My section and platoon is a jolly, joking, altogether wholesome bunch, but I don't think they'd be able to understand. And anyway each has enough to worry about; don't think I should add some metaphysical philosophical problem to their plate. It's only in the dead of the night, in the nebulous time between lights-out and actual sleep, that the doubts become something to really contend with.

But...I guess I'll work something out. We all have to work something out at the end of the day, and still, we hope that we'll never have to prove our conviction on the battlefield. But in the meantime, it's time to enjoy the leave, and to catch up on some sleep, and to relish the feeling of civilian life again!

On the Brink of Tomorrow

2006-01-06T22:19:00.000+08:00

A little over twelve hours remaining, and I feel that I am ready to face this. No dread, no fear, just reasonable apprehension. Because, now I realise, there is really nothing to fear. NS is a conceptual vacuum. If there is anything worth fearing, I don't yet know of it, and I want to enjoy what could very well be my last moments of peace of mind =P But yeah...in a rather startling realisation I noticed that the last time I felt anything like this was just before Frexprog One...faced with the big unknown, not knowing what to expect, and basically going in blind. That time changed practically everything afterwards. Maybe this time will be the same too. Looking to learn something from this time, for better or for worse.

Anyway, was watching the CD that they gave us during prom. Actually, there were two videos on it...the sappy one they tried to show during the dinner, and a much better one (in my opinion) matched, surprisingly and evocatively, to Yann Tiersen's music for Amelie. Hmm...I didn't exactly want to be immortalised in exactly that way, but ah well, it's done I guess. And it's something to look back to certainly. When I was watching it the memories and the relationships and the people that appeared on the screen cut through all the skepticism to appeal to the part of me that still goes soft at sentimentality. A deep part that defies expression, that befuddles sympathy. Something deeply personal that still yearns for the times depicted in those pictures, that is private, that cannot be shared no matter how many people there are in the group. Do you remember where you were, then, when...

But on the brink of this new adventure, I'm glad to have my friends and family around me. Narnia on Wed, then yesterday was the marathon movie thing with Thong, Vaish, Sots and Kay Hwee. Hehheh...I think I can develop a taste for Bollywood movies. Vaish is right...the key is to suspend disbelief =P Well, it was nice to have all of them in the house. Good of Thong to turn up even though he went in this morning. It was good to have everyone together again, at least. Heh, and Dad had the idea of celebrating my birthday last night. But how to find time? There's no time left for the little ceremonies. Actually felt bad for Dad and the others that we couldn't make a bigger thing out of it. It felt like something that, for their sakes as much as for mine, should have been more...impressive.

And then had Pui Man over today - had one last joust with the old guitars. Dad was around too to add some real skill to what turned out to be a great big singalong =P Then there was Maksim on the telly and a full-blown tickling contest with Marcus who periodically switched sides and basically was sanctioned to have a go at everyone...Hehheh, childish fun, but it was fun all the same! And now and then one must suspend disbelief, eh? And just enjoy whatever you find yourself in the middle of.

And then tomorrow will be setting out with lots of family to Tekong itself - and we'll see what happens from there, I guess. It'll be great to have the guys and my family around me at this time, at the time of great dislocation. Yeah...like I said, it's a good feeling to know that you have people feeling concerned for you. To feel part of a vibrant and reliable community. That, I think, will be where my strength comes from. The strength to face this great void and fill it with whatever I have to do.

So yes, I guess I do face this with high spirits. Yes, it will call for leaving some things behind, but I find now that I can trust that those things will wait for me. That there is something solid and unchangeful to base memory on. And that anchor point is the most important thing, I think, when facing the future.

Thinking Back

2006-01-05T22:16:00.000+08:00

Do you remember where we were when...

Narnia

2006-01-04T23:04:00.000+08:00

Watched The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe today, and it was brilliant! The colours, the rousing soundtrack, the stirring plot, and the surprising religious connotations. And Aslan! The Great Cat! The gravity in that voice, the sheer accepting enduring dignity in that poise at the Stone Table, the wisdom deep and heavy in those eyes, and the compassion that stops him from telling the children what they should not yet know. A stirring film, that...though at this point I can't remember the book at all. And I definitely didn't see so many religious connotations the first time round. Time to reread it I think.

Was watching the film, and afterwards having dinner with Vaish and YS, with the awareness that it was probably the last film I'd watch before Saturday. And the last dinner out. Hmm...it adds a sharper flavour to everything, I think, the awareness of time running out. Everything more in focus because you're trying to remember everything, just so you have a refuge to retreat to if things don't turn out as nice as you'd like it. Tomorrow the kids coming over for a movie-watching marathon. For some of them it'd be the day before enlistment. Well, I hope it's a worthy send-off for them at least!

Yeah...NS. At this point in time I'm hanging between wishing it was now so I could get it over with, and wishing that it was later. There's not enough time to do something big, and yet too much time to bear doing nothing. But still it's not really fear, like I said...just apprehension. Swinging alternatively between the view that it's a dangerous challenge and that it's just a new and strenuous adventure. The attraction of the unknown underlined by real physical danger now, made all the more ominous beacuse you know what is possible (everyone's heard the stories of injuries and even deaths) but not what is probable.

Packing the auxiliary stuff for NS, was thinking whether or not all this is necessary. No idea why we would need all that black tape, really, though for handymen you apparently can't have too much of it. I guess it's just a safety buffer, to give you more options if the NS prescribed kit proves to be inadequate in some way. Prudence, I guess. Hope for the best (that the NS pple have prepared everything well), but prepare for the worst.

Anyway...uni stuff. Had PSC psychological interview today. Basically two hours of spilling out your life story to a psychologist. A bit disconcerting, because the doctor is a stranger, and yet you know you have to tell her as much as you would your family for her to do her job. Telling her more than her social position vis-a-vis me warrants. Or at least, you have to make it sound like the truth...but lying under such conditions is too tedious, I think. The very least is to try to protect people's privacy; the only person you can libel is yourself. And to make it as interesting for the both of you as possible. The biggie, though, is still pending...PSC is apparently organising the time-slots now.

And Cambridge finally got back to us! Got an AAA for St. John's, and I'm very relieved. On the way home today, after being notified by the VJ pple that the letters were out, there was a moment of distant clarity when I realised that I could conceivably bear not going to Cambridge - a reminder that originally I had not wanted to go there. But then the familiar tension of a critical decision being made came back. And now that the offer's out I feel much better. Either way the wait is over.

But then I also realise exactly how provisional it is. It not only relies on the grades, but also on the scholarship. This is, after all, a big step, but only one of three crucial steps, all of which must fall into place for this to work. We'll see how the rest turns out lar...but I'm glad for this at least. One less thing to worry about, and that means that the process is now back in my control. It'd be up to me, now, to convince the PSC to take me into their scholarships.

Kels got an offer too, which is, naturally, also a relief. It's good not to have to compete anymore with someone I hold in such high regard. Waiting on Chern's result, though seeing as she isn't in town that could take a while. If the three of us end up in SPS at Cam then that would be perfect!

Anyway! On the eve of enlistment it's not a productive use of time to worry bout this thing. Will think of tomorrow's movie thing instead. Need to tidy up the house. And now that I actually got the cement I can repair the ship, setting everything in order at home, before I leave for Tekong.

2006

2006-01-01T20:37:00.000+08:00

There are not many things that are as awesome and thrilling as a live fireworks display.

Yesterday was at the bayside waiting to usher in 2006, even though I was feeling a bit under the weather. Phew...what a heck of a lot of people over there! Heh, I guess people will flock to wherever there is fun to be had. And it is heartening to see everyone out for a good time at the bayside, flooding into the streets - at least those which were not cordoned off by the police. While the people will not cross police lines, at least they will go right up to them and try to push them back. Which, I think, is a rather hopeful sign for Singapore =P

Mmm well, eventually, after wandering from Esplanade to the Esplanade Bridge to One Fullerton YS and I decided to just end up at the bayside area almost under the Sheares Bridge, where we had a front-row seat to view the bay area. Right in front of us the baywater played chicken with our feet. To the right was the river mouth with the strange arrangements of balloons floating in the water, lit up by the spots from the Esplanade Bridge. To the left was the Sheares Bridge, and right in front of us was the New Downtown field.

It was very tasteful, I thought, the display for the new year. The bubbles on the water were simple yet surprising to look at, and they really used the spots well to create colours on the water and in the air, where a slight fog had conveniently appeared. Rather minimalist, elegant, and, I thought, dignified. And when the fireworks started firing from right in front of us on the field, it was a real surprise. Yes...there are few things as stunning as those grenades of colour exploding a few hundred metres away from you. It creates a feeling of collective awe and delight, something sweet and childish in the air. However the old year was, the end of the old and the beginning of the new cannot but be upbeat with fireworks.

But it has been a really good year...it has been a really good two years, to boot. Heh, you would remember me grousing about the new school last year. Starting anew, I was looking backwards. But it has been a surprising two years, I think, filled with exciting and overall rather happy moments. The crowning moments must, of course, be the overseas trips. Texprog and Bangkok introduced many good people to me, and opened up whole new horizons to be explored. It was the time to indulge in the old fascination with wandering, with the new and surprising company of flightmates. And Fraser's Hill and Hong Kong...time to catch up with old friends and family, retracing old steps. Yep...the exchange programmes were the culmination of everything I had learned up till then, and the year-end trips were a fitting tribute to two years well spent in making new friends, exploring new places, all the while not losing track of old connections.

And everyday connections, too, were surprising. The brilliant, warm, sparky people of the Humanities Programme...it has been invigorating to work with such like-minded, yet such diverse, people. Even my own class, too, started to grow on me after a while, I must add. Good people they are, whatever else they may be. And not to forget the nicest CCA in JC, RJGE, with the kind of bonds and camaraderie that I thought I would never see after EDrama. The exhilarating feeling of being able to, collectively, make a mark with what we were doing.

And my old refuges of the old 4Ners and friends from secondary school. So many friendships from that period were continued that I am frankly rather stunned. I thought that it wouldn't be as easy to keep up with each other, but somehow things just happened so we could stay in contact. Some part of what we had is preserved; not everything has changed. And in many ways I think these two years are the fruits of the foundations and preparations made in secondary school. Then, I was learning; now, I put it into practice.

Like I was saying to YS yesterday, these two years were characterised by this kind of happiness, by the surprises that surpassed my expectations and taught me to hope for more. I think, really, this happiness is founded on a feeling of security, after all. While competition in school is undoubtedly fierce, the thing is that I don't feel, presently, that I have to fight for my position, or for my respect. Socially I feel safe among my friends and workmates. And from this foundation, on the brink of a new year filled with unknowns, I feel that I am ready to begin.

I don't know what to expect from this new year. Probably many things will not be the same. Hopefully I will continue to be surprised, and I can continue to learn. But from the vantage point of the end of 2005, I can begin to look forward to 2006 with anticipation and eagerness.

After the fireworks displays the people lining the banks started lighting up their own sparklers, and the boats started to run out to sea again, their lights blazing. From the Bridge people were showering sparklers on the boats as they passed underneath. It was rather pretty, these little lightshows that dotted the shoreline. If the fireworks were our collective hopes for the new year, then these little lights were individuals who were taking some of the hope with them. I don't want to sound too sentimental myself, but I have to say that I look towards the new year with hopes of my own. With these little lights it doesn't look so scary after all.

And an exhilarating new year to everyone! Things will change, obviously, but I believe not all at the same time. Some things we should keep from the old year I think. Keep in touch, yar? =)

This Christmas

2005-12-25T22:28:00.000+08:00

Wow. This Christmas has been grand! Hehheh here's my attempt at an executive summary...yesterday evening popped down to NYDC in Holland V for dinner with Ian, Thong, Vaish and Oh-san. Finally managed to give Thong his pot, and had a hilarious meal, unfortunately quite at the expense of the Christmas spirit. Oh the vitriol flying across that table! =P Mmm anyway, the others went off to Eskibar to chill out during happy hour, while I made my way down to City Hall to meet YS.

Happened to take the bus that went down the whole stretch of Orchard, so was able to have a birds-eye view of all the lights and happenings along that road. Wow, I know that it's all commercialised and tacky and all, but you can't escape a sense of exhilaration when you see all those people crammed into the area between Taka and Paragon looking at buskers and listening to carols. Usually crowds aren't my thing, but for that moment had an urge to jump off the bus and join in the fun on the sidewalk. Anyway. Reached City Hall, found YS who was scrupulously on time, and then went down to Esplanade, despite her having been at the performance centre for The Nutcracker for like two weeks running or something.

Mmm Esplanade never seems to disappoint, and we ran into a carol group in the foyer, and a really really cool jazz band at the outdoor theatre. About as good as Broken Orange Fence, especially on guitar and drums. Stayed for two of their sets, under a clear night sky with dozens of other people milling around, and across from the skyline that still forms such a stunning backdrop despite all this time. I don't know if it's just me, but there seemed to be more of a general feeling of goodwill. While other times everyone in the outdoor theatre wants to have fun, yesterday night the merrymaking was more cool because you have a sense of it forming a pattern with the other celebrations worldwide, and through time too.

Afterwards went to Cathedral to attend the midnight mass. Actually hoped that the choir would be putting up a Christmas pageant, but they had shifted the pageant to last Sunday, which was a real pity, I think. Buuut the ceremony was good anyway. The Cathedral was stuffed, the Archbishop was giving mass, and the choir admirably played their role in filling the vaulted heights of the Cathedral with celestial song. Mmm...was YS's first ever Christian mass, and though it wasn't the most comfortable experience ever, I hope it was enriching nonetheless. At least it would differentiate this Christmas, add a spiritual dimension onto it.

At the end of the mass there was the traditional singing of "Joy To The World". And then, the choir broke into a song that I had forgotten, "Felis Navidad" (dunno if that's the right spelling though), and the Cathedral was reverberating with happiness and cheer. It's such a happy song to welcome in a happy day!

And then today...family came over, of course, and I think without the pressure of school I found it easier to interact with everyone. Heh...and I guess they have an additional connection point, which is my iminent NS. Everyone was giving advice on how to deal with it! And for the Hong Kong trip too they were all concerned. Was quite glad that I could still functionally carry out a conversation in Chinese.

How can I capture that feeling of security and equilibrium, sitting around the dining table with my family, each one with a cup of Chinese tea in front of them, and a roast turkey and a leg of ham in the centre? There is nothing else to be wanted, then, abundance and warmth all around you. It's this kind of feeling of being in the right place that I don't want to lose, as I was telling YS. But when you're actually in a situation like that, there's nothing to do but to enjoy it while it lasts, and not mull over how temporary it is.

Yeah...I like this Christmas. When the spiritual significance of the feast is brought into the social sphere, goodwill is produced. Today is the time to feel that not everyone is out to get you, there are people to care about you, and there is the time to just enjoy what one has. And there is no doubt, I think, that it is the people that make the meaning of the season matter.

Well...it has definitely been a great Christmas for me. I hope everyone's had a wonderful season as well, just the thing to end off a great year. And may this only be the start of a new year that will exceed all your expectations!

* * * * *

Last jump tomorrow...off to Hong Kong until the 29th! Going to be my one last fling before really preparing for the next phase of life, the army. Shall really relish this time, then, in that colder, colourful city. If you guys still want to contact me, I'll be autoroaming, but beware of the SMS charges! See you guys in a bit!

The Airport

2005-12-23T11:40:00.000+08:00

Nothing much to report these few days. Generally just been staying at home...I didn't expect to be spending so much time at home, actually. Well, it's a good chance to update lumière, at least. New gallery up, but the web server hasn't updated the main page yet, so have to hold on for a bit.

Saw Chern off at the airport yesterday. Hmm...seems that everyone's going off all over the world. Makes me quite glad that I'm popping over to HK actually. Gives me something to do these weeks, at least. Airport's been done up quite nicely now that they've renovated the interior. All pastels and wood, really quite stylish and tropical. It's a happy colour scheme there now. And for the first time I actually went in to the First Class lounge, because Chern's dad has that privileged passenger card or something like that. Really sleek and smooth, everything in dark leather. But somehow I still prefer the check-in rows, with all the clamour and people. I find that it's not really a check-in without the bustling chaos of normal people with all their technicolour luggage =P

Interesting stories from all over the world coming in...Mel came back from Guilin, and Chern's family came back from Kyushu, and Vaish from Bintan. Heh hopefully I'll be able to add something after the 29th!

More arts and craft nowadays, doing up the pots that I got from Fraser's Hill to be given away. Now that the cards have been sent off now there's only the big (well, not very big, but un-mailable) gifts left. And today also have to get the gifts for the HKers ready. Mum gave me this rather nifty shawl to be given to Grandaunt, which can be buttoned at the front so it won't slide off all over the place. I think I'll get something edible to add on...but I have no idea what can't be gotten in HK. Maybe something Malay? A kueh lapis perhaps?

Tonight going for a ballet performance of the Nutcracker. Can't remember the plot already, probably should read up, especially since I've got a ticket in something like Circle 3205, which means that I'll probably have to get a pair of binoculars to see anything =P And then on Christmas Eve going to catch the pageant at the Cathedral too. Time to get into the real Christmas vibe! But I also want to do other stuff...watch something, perhaps. There's an interesting foreign movie at Cine, "Joyeux Noel", about the Fraternisations during Christmas 1914 on the frontlines of WWI. Nothing sappy, but still with a happy ending. Fits my current mood, I think.

Four Days

2005-12-20T19:44:00.000+08:00

Heh Esplanade does not disappoint. After telling so many people to go down to the waterfront to check out the performances - and being ignored - finally I find a companion in Chern. And we were in luck, too, finding this sublime jazz band (Broken Orange Fence) performing on Friday night. Really good stuff...apparently they're full time performers, which is something positively bizarre in Singapore. But it sure makes for good music! Well, only the kids in the front row were actually dancing to the tunes, but you can just feel the vibes making you sway and tap the beat.

Yeah...for all its un-riskiness and placidity (not all art is celebrated there), Esplanade is still my favourite spot in Singapore. Especially at night. And on a weekend night too. Sea breeze, good music, people enjoying themselves. You just take your enjoyment wherever you find it. And on Friday, several Christmas tunes set against the backdrop of the Fullerton Hotel all lit up in red spotlights...something in the air makes you feel like you're in the right place, you know? That everything coincides, and the machinery of the world is working flawlessly, and you've found your place in the big order of things. Too bad it doesn't last too long.

Been writing Christmas cards mostly these few days. Fun stuff, sketching little pictures and sticking them together in true-blue arts and craft fashion. I surprised myself because I actually successfully combined colour pencils and my trusty black marker, something that I hadn't even thought of doing before. Colour pencils, it turns out, can do much more stuff than just colour. Heh, and it's with an irrational spurt of satisfaction that I walked into the Post Centre yesterday to buy the stamps and post away the cards for overseas people, and some of the local ones too. It feels special, that extra effort of going down to the post office. And nothing in email resembles the sensation of seeing your crafted letter disappearing into the slot of a post box.

Shengjie from CHS dropped by yestarday suddenly, because he was asking me to help him in his Stanford application. Hmm...US application essays are really quite fun to do, it seems. The impression I got was that you don't really need to be serious, since they don't check up on the truthfulness of the essays. It's like writing fiction, actually - it's all in the style. But then maybet's just because it's not my application I'm doing, so I have the luxury of standing back and taking the long view. And maybe it's just Stanford. Heh, but it was hilarious shifting styles from personal letter to academic essay to fairy tale and even a brief dip into the realms of poetry.

Mmm...he's a good kid, Shengjie. Suprising. I didn't know he was taking History...definitely a strange thing for a PRC scholar, and we made sure to make a point of it last night. He has ambition, he does. And lots of money, if his parents can pay his way through Stanford. I think, though, he has a bit too much faith in my abilities as a writer. It'd be great if that series of essays do get him into Stanford, but what are the odds of that? Hmph...no matter what he says, I am not the best writer on the block. ANd those writers are actually applying to the Ivy League. But at the point in time, call it vanity, call it arrogance, I just couldn't dispossess him of that impression, you know? And anyway it was 1am, and he was on tight deadline, and there was no time to find someone else, so perhaps it wouldn't have been wise to convince him that he found the wrong person...

Well, anyway, I'm still waiting for my big fish to report in. Was hoping to get it before Christmas, but it doesn't seem to be about to happen. Ah well, at least I have my backups. And I may actually be going to Paris after all. Dawn called just now to ask me a few questions for an article she's doing for Straits Times, about students going to non-traditional countries. Told her that France was because of practical reasons (since I've been there before and I can speak the language) and personal preference, and also because it would be a real new start. A toptal blank slate, in a different culture and language. Which it is. But when I said it I suddenly realised that I wasn't all that certain that I wanted to challenge that kind of tabula rasa. Do I really want that degree of dislocation? I like my present security.

Hmm, speaking of French...am reading Yvonne's lit text now, Albert Camus's La Peste (The Plague). Some parts, his descriptions mostly, I don't understand at all. But the plot I can catch roughly at least. Mmm..a true existentialist book that, a bit rambling (which is like The Outsider) without a clear direction. ut the approach of the book is a bit forceful I think, like Georeg Orwell's 1984. You get the impression that he's trying harder to get his message across than write a book. Like reading an abstraction in some parts. But maybe it's just my ramshackle grasp of French...

Oh, and now a new trip is confirmed! Going to Hong Kong for a short hop from the 26th to 29th, the true final fling of this era, I think. Heh, and it's quite a fluke that I'm actually going, I think. Suggested it to Mum on the way back from Fraser's Hill, but I didn't actually expect it to come true. Last few days was in a bit of a daze over it, thinking whether I should actually go through with it since it's so unexpected. But now that I've bought the tix and cleared accomodation it's much better =P I find myself at the brink of a new trip!

It's been a long time since the last visit...can't even rightly place when it happened. I only remember being rather pissed at the cold - it was the first cold place I went to, and it didn't go down well, but see where things have brought me! Will be staying with my grand-aunt and liaising with Pui Man, who'll be back there at the same time. Mmm...cold places, mountains, a new city to explore. A new adventure, perhaps.

Many Many Movies

2005-12-16T22:13:00.000+08:00

Was at 4N gathering at Kay Hwee's place over the night of Wed and Thu. Played a bit of mahjong, a bit of Civ 4 (which has several interesting and bewildering new features), a bit of Bridge, and quite a bit of FIFA 04, which I find out I actually quite like =P But the most interesting bit was watching all those movies through the night. Yep, another sleepless night for me, this time watching Behind Enemy Lines (which was still good this time round, as long as you ignore the love subplot - it's kinda like Pearl Harbour and Titanic, where the love plots were also unnecessary) and Ghost Ship. Beyond that we didn't find anything else that anyone really wanted to watch. Heh, but the latter was really funny! Horror may be another genre in which there are few new innovations each time, just like romance. In fact the veritable bloodbath in the show was a bit farcical...no sense of ominous purpose behind it, just this rather flabby and pointless demon-figure behind it all.

Hmm, come to think of it I've watched quite a few movies lately. Perhaps Love was a ripoff of Moulin Rouge, I think, and I still think that the earlier movie was better. Perhaps Love has some interesting things to say about memory, like how you can't forget memories, and how they always come back to haunt you. The play-within-a-play structure had some potential, but I didn't think that the director really took it to the max. In fact it struck me as a bit cheap, since even though the parallels between real life and the movie life was obvious to all there wasn't really the impression that the characters themselves grasped it. The love plot was a bit tired I think...the usual love triangle resolved by everyone agreeing to start from scratch. Bittersweet ending with the edge taken off by repetition.

Other people say it was good. Heh, I guess it's just because I don't sympathise with the love side of the plot. The memory side was good because I understood what they were talking about. But the love thing is just too unlikely, it seems. And this kind of movie, with its self-reflexive references, is meant to come across as realistic, I think. Which it doesn't, for me. Maybe it's a defect in my capacity to imagine situations like this.

Aeon Flux was better. Hehheh, I think I've had enough of romance flicks for the time being. Good old thriller any day for feel good value! Hmm I'd expected it to harrowingly reflect Singapore actually, in its dystopian worldview, but to its (or Singapore's) credit the similarities were limited. Dunno how memories can be transmitted through the cloning process though...that, I think, is a plot element that needs to be taken on faith. But interesting how they unite technology and nature. Not some sleek starship flick.

Mmm enough movies for the time being, I think. Otherwise this entry can be submitted to 8 Days.

US early decision results coming out sometime soon. The best of luck to all the people applying! The old uni angst coming back now, with the anxiety of a wait coming to an end. But it seems now that the A's are over at least there's less of a sense of urgency...there's really nothing left to do but to look for that result. Nothing to lose anyway but the application fees. Heh but it'd be cool to have people in Harvard and Yale and Stanford and the rest (can't remember where pple applied to already...), if only so I can get tours, and eye-catching university merchandise. And of course the recepients will get a stellar education and all that =P

Planning to write to the Taiwanese soon...though I doubt if the cards will reach Taipei in time for Christmas. Ah well, at least something to do, some craft projects. And planning to go abroad one last time before going into camp. Options now up for grabs...Hong Kong, Shanghai, even a cruise. But the thing is that the decision must come soon, otherwise with the holiday rush for vacations the matter will become, well, academic.

Fraser's Hill

2005-12-13T20:16:00.000+08:00

Back from Fraser's Hill, which turns out not to be on Genting at all, but is actually in between Genting and Cameron. It feels odd to be back in Singapore, after all these days of seeing only a maximum of like twenty people every day. City bustle is stunning on a certain, deep level, throwing me off balance. Kinda like stepping on an escalator that's going too fast.

Anyway, it was a great time on Fraser's Hill! A magical place, that. Many strange and wonderful coincidences happened on the hill - like going all the way up the hill and halfway up the Malaysian Peninsula to meet an old friend from Pre U Sem (Alvin) and his dad who works in the MFA scholarships department or sth liddat. When I saw his smiling face in the bungalow I was literally stunned into babbling. I'd always joked with myself that the world is too tiny...but I didn't actually expect something like this to really happen!

The setting for the holiday owns! Photos haven't been uploaded yet, so I'll make do with these scans of the sketches I did. And what a relaxing time it was, sketching...many interesting scenes to draw on that hill. Kept me well occupied.

That's a scene from the living room of Singapore House, where we were living. If you look carefully, there's a set of cushy sofas and, on the extreme right, under the clock, it's a real fireplace with a real mantle! That is like a scene right out of my fantasy dreams! And the coolest thing was that on our last night Mum actually managed to start a fire in that fireplace, so we could actually enjoy the flickering flames and the heat. A fantastic moment, that...rarely have I seen a sight as happy as a crackling fire in a fireplace.

And this happy scene is the centre of the village on Fraser's Hill. A quiet, tranquil place, where cars are practically nonexistent, and everything moves with the slowness of a satisfied langour. The whole place is charmed, I think...while sketching this, I was sitting behind a parking lot, and when I had to draw a part blocked by the parked cars, they obligingly and coincidentally moved away until I had finished. And a group of Malays, Indians and even Chinese tourists from Kelantan dropped by to watch me sketching. That town is really friendly to artists, it seems. Heck, it's really friendly to all the visitors!

I said the place was charmed...yep, it definitely was a satisfying vacation in every conceivable way. Exceeded all my expectations of what a holiday in Malaysia is like. Imagine my surprise to find a passable facsimile of the European countryside in the next door country! Many things to do...horse-riding, nature-trails, sketching, walking, Monopoly. And a chance, definitely, to catch up with the family. The trip was filled with stories about all our various trips abroad. It was a novelty, to be with my family on holiday, and a delight to find out what they'd been up to all this time.

Mmm...and it was filled with memories too. Reminded me of all the other times I'd been on hillsides, mountainsides and hill resorts (Really, YS, you should see it; you'd love it up there!). And coming, as it did, at the end of an era, it was the time to reflect on how things had turned out this year. And it's with not a small amount of pleasure to find that I really did not mind these two years at all. There were gripes, but no regrets. Two good years filled with memorable, enriching experiences.

And the thing, I think, about this trip is that it finished with the feeling that I've been recharged and readied on all levels. At the end of this era, this most intense of all eras, I find that I am ready to begin.

The End of an Era

2005-12-08T21:08:00.000+08:00

It isn't really grief, what I'm feeling now. It's a sort of deep sadness. Just said goodbye to Soph at Bedok, delivering the last of her mail, and it suddenly struck me that it's going to be a good three months until I see her again, probably. And she's not the only one...everyone's going away. It's only been two years for so many of them, and yet there is no avoiding the sense of...loss? reluctance? Something along those lines.

It has been a distinct, fascinating, surprising time with this girl. Intimidating, bewildering at times. But intimidation built on strength, and bewilderment only because of her fixation with her direction, which is different from mine. And yet it's almost disturbing sometimes to see echoes of myself in her. I don't know how things worked out this way, with this almost-classmate. somethingood has quite a big role to play in there somewhere, I think. But whatever the case it has definitely been an enriching time.

I don't want to sound too maudlin, or write her obituary here. She's just going home. And at the end of the day we may very well still end up in the same school in the UK. Who knows, eh? It's just that moment of realisation, on the platform at Bedok, that this is a real parting of ways. No airport departure lounge gate with the glass panels and eight different ways to say bon voyage, but still a leave-taking. And because I didn't realise it until the moment, I guess the moment was all the stronger for it.

Well...we see the ties unfurling already. After prom I felt really sad too...this, then, is the end of an era. A very short, intense one, the happiest one yet. A part of me suspects, with a jolt of fear and loss, that things won't ever be this good again. I don't know...I don't know what to expect of the coming months. Looking ahead, there is only scattering; while parting is not new, the innovation is the sheer geographical scale of how widely we will be scattered. How will ties hold if you can't just randomly decide to gather one day with your old classmates and friends? I don't know, and that is the centre of the scariness of the uncertainty ahead, I think.

At this point, there is something to lose.

* * * * *

Prom was...interesting. A confusion of events smudged together by fathigue and impulse, I think. And yet all still so vivid, the work of a consciousness too reluctant to let go of the present. It wasn't as bad as I expected, though the food wasn't really 6-star, and I thought $88 was quite steep for a mass photo-taking session. The people really looked good. Heh, everyone was stunned by Zhi-An's transformation in a black dress and elaborate piled-hair coiffe.

I think part of the discomfiture of prom was that there was always the impression that things were happening to me, and I was just being carried along for the ride. I didn't actively seek a ticket in the first place, and yet I find myself at the 13A table (albeit next door to the 1A table), crashing the 13A room, and stuck in Esplanade with RJGE people instead of at KBox with my class. I didn't particularly mind the company of these groups, but I wanted to be with my class on this night, at least for some time. As it was I only spent the time needed to snap photos with them.

Even to me this strikes me as a pity.

It's not just a matter of keeping up appearances, though to be fair a prom is nothing if not about appearances. At the end of everything I do find myself growing on my class, or perhaps the other way around. They are good, dedicated people, and in the end they held together better than I expected (I seem to be rather bad at judging the collective characters of groups of people). It was certainly fun to be with 13A and Guitar, but I don't think it should have come at the expense of my own class.

Well, as things turned out anyway, after prom went to Esplanade to celebrate Shaun's and Lin Yan's birthday by the bay, and then it started to storm. So there we were, stuck at the Esplanade, me due to go to Paradiz to rejoin my class, and the girls leaving, and then the guys finally giving up and deciding to cab back to the hotels or home. It was nice to see everyone again, a tad off-kilter at midnight, but there's still that old connection. We were a good batch for Guitar.

After that was up to 13A's room at the Ritz. Hmm...I dunno if I should have crashed their room. Especially after it was also invaded by some 1B people. It didn't seem to be very nice to the 13A people, since they were the ones who took the effort to book the room in the first place. Heh, and though it was a biggish Lover's Suite (no locks on any of the doors except the main door and the door to the potty, and a huge bathroom) it didn't take too many people to make it overcrowded. Definitely some of the 13A people were (justifiably) pissed. But well, it happened...we make the best of things, eh?

Hung around with Sots, Yiting, Randy and Yee Kiat that night. Heh, definitely refreshing, and probably easier than dealing with people from my own class. It's just a wavelength thing. (A note on Yiting, though - it's just a sort of game that we play. When it comes to social interactions appearances are just about the only things that we can work with, but when it comes to interpersonal relationships what is the core is what the people involved think about themselves, and not what other people think of them. We think we are not "together", to use that bland euphemism. Other people's views are secondary to what comes from the proverbial horse's mouth)

Heh I think, though, I should stop taking so many sleepless nights in such close succession. Once a month seems to be my standard capacity, and after last night there was a constant sense of giddiness and nausea. One can remain functional, but not comfortable, under such conditions.

But yeah, fathigue notwithstanding, it was a strange time. Especially seeing Soph alone. Hmm...it was haunting in that it reminded me of myself in Frexprog One: pissed with people generally and preferring to stay alone. I don't know if that really was the case, but the similarities seemed so eerily compelling. To see such aloneness appearing again was...disturbing. And anyway, even a skeptic like me knows that on the night of the prom, no one should be alone. One thing that Frexprog One taught me - don't let anyone be alone, because loneliness can spur inward thoughts that produce bitterness (a bit hyperbolic, to be sure, but the general idea is to let everyone enjoy the night, this $88 night).

So prom finished in a mess I think. Me and Yiting making waves, Soph out alone, a bit of an invasion of 13A space, and the sense of things prematurely coming to an end. When I was on the way back home was struck by bewilderment at how bleeding complicated things had become over the course of one night. Unfinished business, as it were...the night ending not with a proper sense of closure, but an unpleasant aftertaste of a shortage of time. Prom was a strange experience, a mixture of pleasant surprises and disturbing twists. No dream ending for us, it seems. But we make do I guess. It was not too bad, and in many ways exceeded my expectations, but I still have reservations about such functions - not sure they're really worth all that money and trouble.

Bleah really disordered now. The sleepiness is setting in again. And I still have to finish packing so I can depart for Genting with the family tomorrow morning! Well at this point I just want to sleep, whether in hills or just in my good old Singaporean bed. Not in a state to enjoy a family trip right now I think. But still, maybe a bit of chill air will do me good...put things in perspective. Will be beginning a new sketchbook on this trip...looking forward to a chance for that type of reflection. Especially now, as I stand on the cusp of a new age, at the end of an era. Many things to think about. What to do now that we're at this point of the journey.

There will definitely be things to look forward to - but equally, and more importantly now, there are also things to look back to. And now, I guess, is the time to begin the process. The reluctant process of letting go.

Spring-Cleaning

2005-12-06T22:17:00.000+08:00

Spent the whole day shoveling out the old and welcoming in the new. Clearing up my shelves to reconvert them back into bookshelves meant basically gutting all my files. Kept all my essays and stuff but with a heart-wrenching brutality I was forced to dump the rest, even the History stuff. How quickly two years' worth of effort can be transformed into scrap and disorder. Spring-cleaning shows how the universe itself always tends towards chaos...

What a slaughter of paper! Two years had produced enough to make a tower 1.3m tall. There is a sort of sadistic pleasure in seeing that white basilisk on the waste newspaper pile, a mild sort of masochistic pleasure I guess.

But have to say that it's nice to have my shelf space back. Now I can actually stack some of my books vertically instead of lying them on each other horizontally. And there is definitely satisfaction at being able to place the lit texts into the collection, especially the faithful Lit S works. Aah...pride of place for them =) Now the only thing left is that I need to get some glue to fix my model ship, which is in a really sorry state. And then the only thing left would be to wait and see how long the pristine state of my bookcase lasts before books get tossed everywhere and new trinkets accumulate on every surface =P

* * * * *

Prom tomorrow. Already got the costume, all thanks to my bro and my cousin! Hehheh really quite impressive, their sense of style. It's something that I think I should acquire now...at least a working grasp of the vocabulary of aesthetics. First time that I actually felt enthusiastic about an outfit, first time I really appreciated how colours can come together flawlessly. Well...it's not black, which fulfills my main objective. I only hope it's enough to add a dash of colour to the photos of tmr night. But definitely not out to get too much attention.

I wonder how one is supposed to behave at something like this. Is there a set and approved range of conversation topics, some system of etiquette that I don't know about? Always at the back of my mind now is the concern that somehow I'll gaff it up. May lead to excessive self-consciousness, which, as I learned four years ago, is tantamount to social suicide. And what is a prom if it isn't an elaborate social ritual? Heh, couldn't stop drawing uncomfortable parallels between prom and the practices of war-paint, mating ritual and aggressive colouring...in nature, the more stunning the colours, the more poisonous the plant.

Ah well, at any rate it'll be an interesting experience. Never been to something in a suit before (school functions don't count because I didn't own the suit, and I didn't have a choice anyway). Can hide behind my camera if need be. And hopefully the food is good! I hope no one minds if I suddenly forget that I'm in a 6-star establishment though.

* * * * *

Went to the coolest bar yesterday form Claud's birthday! Heh, if I'd known Eskibar existed earlier, I'd be a regular customer =P Going in there is like entering the Alps again...you need to wear like three layers if you even want to think about staying in there for more than ten minutes...in fact you need that much if you want to think at all =P Really shiok to feel the heat being stolen from your body like that. And the drinks...maybe the cold accentuates the tastes, but they were good too! Hehheh brings me back to those happy days on top of the Italian Alps...except now you don't have the option of keeping warm by skiing because there's nowhere to go except pacing around the central column (the freeze room, as it's called, is built in an industrial freezer).

Now got another place to get happy at =P Fifteen bucks for a shot at happiness, at the kind of cold when you're just exhilarated even though you can feel your ears freezing off. Basically the type of cold that is still associated in my mind to the happiness of snow.

* * * * *

American Gods by Neil Gaiman is an interesting piece of work. Just started on it, and it's quite intriguing, the scenes and plots that he draws out. It's kind of...I dunno...gothic? Like a Sandman comic, something like that. I wonder where he gets his ideas from, what kind of imagination can throw out scenes of such fascination and disturbing-ness. It's not a hard read, which I'm grateful for...the patterns of imagery and whatever are intricate, but immediately identifiable. The kind of book that lets you feel intelligent without too much mental effort.

Still, at this point, not sure what to make of it. Definitely something to continue reading, but with an ambivalent attitude at the moment. Eagerness to know what happens mixed with a healthy dose of wariness of what is being painted in my mind's eye.

* * * * *

Somehow these last few days have been a bit of a daze. Too many things happening, I guess, and have been out of practice for too long with the norms of socialising. With a jolt yesterday I realised that I may eb sliding back into the Frexprog One frame of mind, the state in which I couldn't be bothered to care, and would rather be alone. Dunno what exactly sparked it off, what ghost rose and saw my familiar face and decided to pay a visit. Ah well, but thankfully, today is better. I think the spring-cleaning helped. I hope it holds out till tomorrow at least. And I'm sorry to the people who had to bear the brunt of my off-kilter state. It wasn't anything personal, and I'll try my best to suppress it, at least for tmr night! Time to suspend self-consciousness and skepticism, and carpe diem, as the old Captain used to say =)

Pre-Performance

2005-12-04T22:39:00.000+08:00

Bleah I'm already regretting buying that ticket. Such a fuss over what I look like on that day, to the extent that I think I'll be feeling so self-conscious at prom that it won't be much fun. In fact...can't really see it as a prom, with all the sentimental romantic connotations attached to it. Looks right now like a big circus I'm preparing for - ladies and gentlemen, one more trussed up turkey for your amusement!

I had no idea that clothes could cost that much...the only apparel that I had seen that cost more than $100 was winter wear, so you can imagine I went positively dizzy in the head when I saw a blazer in some Paragon shop costing $1800. So many digits on one price tag! No wonder they try to hide that dastardly slip of paper. What I spent three hours today wandering around town to discover was that I couldn't wear the clothes that I could buy, and I couldn't bear to buy the clothes that I'd like to wear.

Seriously...with the amount of money I'm looking to spend now I could reenact the whole of Frexprog One!

Interesting, though, how easily one is sucked into this kind of thing. Partly I think it's just because I want something to occupy me with. A restless mind gnawing at anything it can get a grip on. But still...social conventions are a particularly vicious vortex. Surprisingly strong for something so openly contrived. The force of consensus is behind them...everyone has the same idea of what a prom should be like. And if conventions can keep the heart of darkness at bay, how am I to fight these hands thrusting me into a suit I don't even want to wear?

Hmm...but I don't intend to sound all that angsty. Sense of perspective, always (incidentally, today also wrote that PSC scholarship application essay, and the sense of perspective was its crowning glory, so to speak). It's really just a mild irritant. But when you're in a condition of general wellbeing even the smallest thing can be vexing.

* * * * *

Finished Life of Pi in one fell swoop today. Fascinating to read about the way Pi survives on that boat, intriguing to consider the kind of social arrangement that can keep a tiger at bay (if social conventions can overcome the instincts of a wet, frightened, hungry tiger, how am I to defend myself against it?). And at the end of the book, one wonders whether it really is about God. Because the last section, it seems, adds a whole new spin to it, a positively postmodernist spin - if everything is a story, then maybe Pi's feverish belief in Hinduism, Christianity and Islam is a way to bury his guilt under these holy stories. Pulling up the rags of faith, as it were, to cover up the nakedness of his savagery at sea.

None of it is true, of course. It's just as likely that he made up both stories at the end, and what really happened cannot be related to the page. I'm still not sure what his point is at the end, to contrast the wondrous story with the terrible story. Maybe it's to show that if both stories are incredible, at least we should choose the one with hope, and not submit ourselves without a fight to the kind of existentialist despair of Camus. I dunno. That last section completes a loop, and the mind runs around in circles trying to find out what is the right meaning.

* * * * *

But we count our little blessing, do we not? In a surprising bout of western-ness Mum bought two types of cheese and two types of pâté and cracked open a bottle of red wine, so for two heavenly nights, we actually had a respectable French-style supper of bread and cheese and pâté! All we needed was a proper wooden board and we could reenact a scene from Atonement. Unfortunately the only wooden boards in the house are the chopping boards which I'd rather not eat on. But nonetheless, a bit of European rusticness in a Singaporean suburban highrise apartment. The environment couldn't be more different, I think, and somehow the incongruousness adds to the flavour of the moment. Ahh if only we could have more of these evenings!

Beginning of a New Day

2005-12-02T16:17:00.000+08:00

Been sitting in front of the computer the whole day. Not very healthy, and I can feel myself cramping up already. But it's done! New album put up on lumière, documenting snippets from RJGE's concert season in April-May this year. The colour scheme was a bit off, but there's nothing to do now but to live with it =P And I must say that the photos are remarkable. Esp the concert ones...the Photog pple really know how to make the best out of a scene. The site was an experiment with effortless navigation, which means that there's no need to click on anything in the album. But it has a ton of graphics. A site that graphics-intensive is definitely not fun to do. Shall not be doing something on such a scale again for some time, that's for sure.

So have to come up with a new idea to try out for the Bangkok Trip photos. After that will have cleared all the backlog!

Anyway, exams are over, as everyone should have noticed by now. Such a feeling of wellbeing and decadence after Lit S, which was a fun end to the whole exam cycle, notwithstanding the other subjects. What a luxury it is to feel aimless without the accompanying guilt! There's nothing left to do, and my time is completely, totally my own. These few days have mostly been unstructured time, I think...watched Prime (which was a bit of a waste, I think...would rather watch Zathura, at least it doesn't have pretensions towards depth =P) and had a big lunch at Fish & Co, and then on Wed was a big sleepover at KHwee's. The last class gathering, it seemed.

Was rather amused that after all this time the gender divide still lingered. I don't particularly find it scandalous or a pity...in fact, I think it's rather cute, this throwback from the days when you didn't need to worry about what others thought of you =P Anyway the night was dominated by mahjong, and managed to play through one entire round of mahjong, a personal record! Mmm I can see how I could easily get addicted to that game. Lots of twists and idiosyncracies, and yet, under it all it's rather endearing and enticing.

Have to start thinking about university stuff again though. PSC deadline approaching, and gotta write that essay for the application. Hopefully it won't be overly painful. Also been looking at Edinburgh and Birmingham. Guiltily, I've been more interested in the cities than in the institutions themselves...everywhere else really looks much more interesting than Singapore! Maybe it's just cos I'm still without somewhere to go abroad to set things back in perspective. But regardless, to be back in an European city would be really cool (even if the weather is uncooperative). Living in a whole new environment not run by the principles of efficiency and economies of scale.

Y'know, cracking open a new book has taken on the tinge of a luxury. Started on Life of Pi on Wed...not very enticing so far, the opening is soft and understated. Easy to read though...let my mind rest a bit from the treadmill. And also been running more. I think, ironically, that's becoming the high point of life. Adrenalin highs that break through the monotony that I haven't yet stopped reveling in yet =P Anyway, Ben Woon went in to camp today...so the countdown has started for the next big assignment.

And it seems like I will be going for Prom after all. Benuel suddenly offered his ticket to me, and since everyone else wants to go for my prom more than I do (or rather, everyone else wants me to want to go to the prom) I shall oblige them =P That's something to be planned for, so...more excitement over the next few days. One complication may be that I don't know where he's sitting...but I guess nothing's compelling anyone to stay in his seat the whole night, right? Except perhaps the food...

Will be going out later to have a gander at the Christmas lights downtown. YS organised this night city walkabout thing, something that I have to admit I've wanted to do myself. Bringing the camera along so I can snap some shots to mail over to the Taiwan pple. Christmas is coming, after all...should send something over to commemorate the occasion!

150

2005-11-27T21:51:00.000+08:00

You know, the more I read Atonement, the more I find myself identifying with Robbie.

Well it's been 150 posts, and this has sure been a productive tenure at this website. At least the servers don't crash as badly as over at FOD. These pages have seen a lot, I think. More than you guys realise, actually. There has definitely been a wider spread of experience...from the depths of hatred to the exalted heights of wonder. But the defining thing about :resilience, I think, is that it contains so much more happiness. Yep, I think it's safe to say that this second year of JC starting with the Taiwan phase of Texprog has been the happiest recorded time of my life as yet (if only by virtue of the fact that the records of the first part of this happiest time were lost in the hacker attack on FOD). A solid feeling of equilibrium and constant surprise at, frankly, how happy life can be.

And of course there are many people that I owe it to, workmates, classmates, friends, old hands, family even. You only have to flip through these pages to see how many times these people have saved me from descending into the old cycle of boom-and-bust happiness and depression. Maybe that's the thing...this diary has seen the unprecedented state in which my social circle has attained the critical mass to contain at least some happy people all the time =P

And to top it off there actually is something interesting to write about today! Unfortunately due to privacy reasons I don't think I'm at liberty to write about it yet. It just makes one pause and reflect on how one got here, what kind of intersection of unforseen and unseen forces washed me up onto this particular juncture of life. And where to go from here. Looking ahead there's only a blank, terrifying in a way because it is so vast and unpredictable, with no discernible pattern, but exhilarating too, because it's up to you to fill it. And it's not all dark, after all...look to the people. Therein lies the continuity. Some things don't have to change.

Pondering on Texprog

2005-11-24T21:07:00.000+08:00

Heh Kueh, was supposed to go in the week just before Christmas, but it doesn't seem to be likely now. Must find some other way to escape apparently.

Arh...and the desire to go somewhere deepened today. Got letters from Taipei...it was a nice surprise, just when I was thinking about the kids over there. Hmm apparently one of my letters over there got lost in the mail...that was the package containing one of the National Day shirts. Bleah that was a stroke of bad luck, for starters because it was so expensive. And it would have been cool...the shirts were coordinated, and if both of them got it it would have been something to behold. A fragment of Singaporean nationalism in Taiwan =P

Ah well, all the same it's really good to hear from the kids again. There really is something about having a physical letter that adds an indefinable significance to the message. At the Nat Lib now they have an exhibition of strange and wonderful books that fold out to fantastic shapes such that the physical form of the pages actually adds to the meaning of the poems that are printed on them. That's the same feeling as the letters...having physical paper and ink makes it feel more substantial. If only because it takes more trouble to write a letter by hand =P

Arh I want to see them again! Pining for those days back last year this time. For Texprog didn't write so many stories as for Frexprog One, but that doesn't mean that there wasn't anything to write. I guess besides the lack of time there's also a feeling that Texprog was...more precious, in a way. In a way that defies my powers of expression. There's a feeling that if I write it out I'll be cheapening it, soiling it with my tendency to pitch for the sentimental.

I will always have my pictures, I guess.

And now that the exams are coming to an end I'll really have the time to construct a Christmas present for the kids in Taiwan =) Want to compile a photo album of Singapore in Christmastime for them...and luckily enough there seems to be no shortage of Christmas spectaculars to photograph downtown this year! Heh speaking of photos I'd also like to update lumière with the RJGE pictures. Got quite a backlog to clear.

Ah well we'll get started on that on Tue. But for now, still need to hunker down for the S papers. And to try not to think too much about Taiwan.

After Lit 3

2005-11-23T22:29:00.000+08:00

My brother wants to become an industrial designer. And actually I can't see anything that should stop him. There's good money to be got in that kind of work, especially now that everything is about style and design. And now seeing the book that he helped to publish, it's a real sign of his skill. Most sleek! Hehheh, ironically it's A Guide to the English Language Arts, but it's really quite ingenious I think. An idea that originated with Mrs Teo in our batch and finally coming to fruition in my brother's batch. There's continuity for you in the historically minded. But beyond the tangential personal connection I think it's worthwhile. And not just for the ironic value. I daresay it's even better than but,, if only because it has no pretensions towards being something litty and profound. This book...it's straightforward. Approachable. Lit without the affectations, which is always the best form of lit. Writers who are using words, not just hiding behind them.

Heh finished Lit today. Not a bad paper. Was rather happy that Marlow as narrator actually did come out, and was able to talk about all that modernist or existentialist stuff about the communication problem. The only gripe was with Albee, which in retrospect I took the wrong approach with. Tried to thematically separate ideas that are, in the play, intricately intertwined. On hindsight it probably would have been a better idea to go chronologically to demonstrate how the complexity of the plot develops. But ah well...that's it. A final tribute to a splendidly crafted play. I want to watch it performed!

Lunch today was fun, and at the same time tinged with tragedy. Because everyone there was free to go to watch HP4, whereas me and Soph were committed to reading for Hist S. Mmm but it's been a long time since I've been in a group that big having such a carefree lunch. The end of the battles is near, and we're already feeling the first of its effects. The exams seem now like something that just needs mopping up, for the most part already wrapped up. It won't be long before we can guiltlessly enjoy the Christmas spirit that's bubbling up all over the place.

But the Sarawak trip is in jeopardy! Now that there are too few people going the trip's in real danger of falling through. And I had been really looking forward to getting off this island, to anywhere else. Just need to go somewhere where I can immerse myself in total anonymity I guess. What I really want to do is to go back to Taipei. That would be perfect. But probably it's too far away, and too expensive...so maybe somewhere nearer. Thailand, Vietnam. Malaysia even. For a few days at least. Mmm...it's some kind of break I want.

Hmm PSC called the other day...and found out that if I say I want to go to France, they'll actually do the applications for me! Heh suddenly Sorbonne seems much more attractive. But then I still have to ask myself what on earth I can do there. History would be interesting, I suppose, what with the Annales school and the cliometricians and all sorts of radical offshoots from all the social sciences having come from France. Heh, one could think that they were being deliberately difficult to reassert their intellectual prowess in the world =P But then what would I do with the diploma when I come back here? Do people even know what the Sorbonne is? Hmm...but all the same it's a new avenue, something to think about.

Boredom

2005-11-21T20:25:00.000+08:00

Bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored.

That didn't help much.

Heh...it really isn't that bad. Relishing the feeling of having not enough stuff to fill the whole day now. The only thing is that I wish I didn't feel guilty when I'm stoning, because we all know that though the war is effectively over it's not won yet, and there's always the suspicion that you could be missing out on something crucial that could make or break your future. And so though I'm out of things to do I still think I should be doing something. And then I go over my old stuff, again and again.

It's not too bad also because it's lit, and lit is fun. Has been fun so far. The papers have been rather kind to us, they've been doable, and they've been instrumental in restoring my self-confidence especially after the History papers. Been doing Conrad and Albee, and the latter especially is fun because it feels like you're memorising a script to be performed. Linguistically Albee is no Shakespeare, but his plot is designed so intricately that analysing quotes is so much more exciting. You keep uncovering patterns that are substantial enough that you can't really ignore them as accidental and not intentional on his part.

People still focused on the exams though. I wonder if it's usually like this, across the cohort, and over the years. Is it that people will only breathe a sigh of relief when the last paper is over? What then? Do people just switch channels, and then four weeks worth of repressed energy just explodes in an orgy of ecstasy? Nowadays I can't focus on the exams anymore, because there are so few left, and none of them connote anything particularly threatening, and the end is in sight, and it's so much more beguiling than the present.

Hmm...I guess I wouldn't be writing this if I were not in the position I am in now. A lot of strange things intersected to produce this situation. There is no denying that I am blessed and fortunate (from a certain point of view at least). And yet, when I try to imagine myself without all these grades, without all the confidence that everyone seems to have in me, I still can't see myself that tightly focused on the exams. It hasn't been a big thing in this family. I guess you could say that my position now is an accidental byproduct of my family just demanding our best from each of us, and nothing more, nothing less. No matter what, though, there's something that we all keep intact - a sense of perspective.

Anyway this should be the end of my whining about having nobody willing to do anything but study. From tomorrow onwards till at least Saturday I've planned stuff to do. Do the reading for Hist S (find the Annales books again and get reinspired, and maybe do a spot of I Hist reading too), then do the Lit S quote thematisers (how else does one prepare for that exam?). Should be a nice pace, leaving much time still to do other stuff, and to prevent me from getting bored of the studying in turn.

* * * * *

And to think a year ago I was in Taiwan. Hehheh, those were good times...good times. I do miss the kids, and Young's family too. It was really a magical time, though it was short, and I don't think I was ever happier than when I was there. Everything was just in place. You don't expect such powerful relationships to form over a period of two weeks, but maybe, maybe, because of the shortness of the time everyone was more dedicated to the whole endeavour, and every moment was thus intensified. To be sure, everything was vivid at the point of time.

Adventure. Friendship. New faces, new situations. The lure of the unfamiliar. I think that's what I really want now. Not exactly boredom (though boredom is a really nice novelty) but...carefreeness. Yes. To be carefree. That was why Taiwan was so great.

End of the Week

2005-11-19T10:39:00.000+08:00

Well then it is almost the end already. Have already entered an Econs-free world, and hopefully, if things work out as planned, I'll never have to understand how the money economy works ever again! =) Econs was alright...Lit was fun yesterday. History, though, was disgusting. I can't believe that they repeated questions! Tat was a deliberate blindsiding tactic. It doesn't even show that you shouldn't spot; it just proves that those who spot the best will earn the most. I don't know exactly what they intended to do with that paper, to deliberately catch us out like that. What exactly are they seeking to represent with that paper?

Bah...stupid I Hist questions that totally put all that effort of studying to waste. That's the most disgusting part about it; the waste. I could have been doing other things besides studying all the complexities of the issues, if they go an set a paper that is hardly properly historical at all. Factual recall; that's a scientific skill, not a historically analytical one. (I realise I must sound so stuck up...but that's what I really felt. It's like being tested on History by bureaucrats who've never studied History themselves. Two years of education down the drain.)

Hmm come to think of it the papers this year were rather wierd. Actually maybe every batch thinks that their year is wierd, but it does seem that this time round they're trying deliberately to catch us out. Either the questions are trickily phrased or they are decapitatingly boring. The only one is Lit, which is still all right, since it offers so much space for personal response anyway. The PC was fun! They were really kind with the poetry comparison, and the drama piece was a really modern one from Stoppard's Indian Ink(1995)! Mmm absurdism and all that. The thing about that piece, I thought, was not really its linguistic style, which wasn't very remarkable, but the stageplay, the technical side of it, the way the entire range of dramatic tools (not just the language) was used for a psychological analysis. Had lots of fun delving into the complexities. The only thing is that I hope I was being clear enough and not going around in circles.

Was out with the 4N kids on Thu, and yesterday the 1A guys as well. Mmm Pepper Lunch is really yummy! You've got to have Japs to come up with such a concept, to give you a hotplate with raw food and then ask you to cook it yourself, and make you pay more for the privilege =P Well, the food is tastier, and the concept is rather nifty, I guess. Anyway it felt good to have that kind of luxury again...the luxury of having time to burn. Now that almost all the papers are over we can start going back to our real lives again. Look up at the decorations and discover with delight that Christmas is almost here!

I don't know why people find that real life is tedious. I always find that it cheers me up. Maybe it's just a matter of terminology, but I don't consider my school existence real life. There's a certain feeling of safety and comfort when you're in real life, when you know all your pretensions can be dropped, and there's no need to keep up appearances. That kind of feeling you can find in being with old friends, or alternatively in the anonymity of the sidewalk.

After Lit 1

2005-11-14T21:52:00.000+08:00

Ooh fusion Indian music owns! Was down at Esplanade desperately trying to cheer myself up after E Hist on Saturday, and went down to catch the free performance. They have this Indian arts fest thing going on now, which is really quite cool, especially their music offerings. As it happened this fusion Indian band from KL was playing. Prana, they're called, which allegedly means "Life Breath" in Sanskrit. And wow that was a really cool show! First time I saw a sitar played live, and it was a real sight to behold...the magnificence of such a tall instrument, the dignity of the cross-legged player, and the magic of those quick, lithe fingers. All really impressive.

And the songs themselves...strange blends they achieved, with Indian sounds but Western, Malay and even Arabic rhythms. They had a guitarist who was really pro with the fingerstyle feats, but I was extremely impressed with the sitar imitated those finger acrobatics. All in all a really delightful performance, really surprising at every turn. Fusion makes you look at music from different perspectives; you're like examining the conventional familiar sounds that make up a standard musical style (like country or Chinese) through the refracted perspective of unconventional instruments. Every style tinged and made compelling by by the Indian flavour.

Heh was impressed enough to immediately pick up their CD on the spot. And you could tell they made a great impact. The audience warmed up quickly this time (maybe cos the sound was so intrugiung, and it wasn't rock =P), and the CDs were snapped up really quickly.

Anyway I love Esplanade...never fails to cheer me up whenever I go there. For forty-five minutes you can forget who you are and just enjoy the sea breeze and the evening air and the music. Being among people who are unselfconsciously on holiday and enjoying themselves is therapeutic in itself =P Anyway was also dabbling into Atonement on Saturday...determined now that I should memorise part of my books, because I simply have no time to hunt the quotes down on the spot.

In fact am really looking forward to the end of Thursday...with the end of I Hist there won't be anything left but Lit and the S Papers. Can start to indulge in the reading for Hist S again...revisit the faithful old Annales historians who have carried me safely through two S Paper tests. And of course can reopen Atonement and Gut Symmetries, and feel happy again doing stuff that I want to do. Not that normal A Levels aren't entertaining. But the exams are really becoming such a drag. Heh, especially Econs...really can't stand to study it anymore. Which is why I'm here, though I probably should be taking deep draughts from the Holy Grail of Ray's models.

Heh we were saying that we should go out and watch a movie on Thu, and I for one am all for it! Can start feeling like part of the real world again, start to feel all that Christmas cheer and all =P And HP5 comes out on Thu, conveniently.

Well...shall see how it goes tomorrow. I hope my econs skills hold out. Essays are always rather shaky. And today one of the sch's econs teachers delivered a delphic prophecy that we should expect the questions tmr to be phrased strangely. I wonder what that even means. I mean, the prediction is vague enough to be almost certainly true, and thus inherently useless, but the source is so important that this can't really be dismissed out of hand. And so we end up in the position of thinking something important is up, but without the peace of mind of knowing exactly what we should expect. Heh the main effect of the prediction, I think, is to heighten our stress without giving us a real outlet for it.

Oh btw Lit today was fun. Did 2 essays, one on Hardy and the other on A&C. I feel accomplished! As if all that work memorising had finally paid off in my first Hardy essay ever. It occured to me that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to try out Hardy essays for the first time in the actual exam, but in the end I think it went off well enough. And by a strange twist of fate (for providence is nothing if not coquettish!) for the first time in my life I spotted correctly - the PBQ I was doing yesterday with Soph actually came out today! Was rather surprised, then happily plunged into it =P

After E Hist

2005-11-11T20:11:00.000+08:00

Bah really irritated with myself. Can't believe what I did today in E Hist...did the Dictators question and also the wildcard question, which was also on dictatorships. Well actually it was on the similarities and differences between Fascism and Marxism, but effectively because of that choice I did essays on all three dictators and effectively dumped three of my five topics. What a waste, the more I think about it, the more I think I should have done unification even though I never liked that topic. The thing about Dictators was that it was fun to do, the info was just there for the picking, but there was too much info and not enough time...no time to really organise it into a cogent and persuasive whole.

First time that I had to dump a point for an essay. There was just too much to write. And after the thing it suddenly occured to me that there was another point that I could have added in that was worth sacrificing a bit of the political analysis for. When you're doing the thing you don't have the luxury of time to decide what is really important and what is not. It's psychologically reassuring to just keep writing. And when you have too much information then it becomes dangerous and the argument can go out of control. What I shall do for I Hist is to stop reading new stuff now, and just organise my facts into usable units. Bah must prioritise the points next time.

I think I should have done the Prussia question. Had all the info, just didn't like the question, which wasn't very entertaining. In fact the questions in this paper were by and large not interesting...lots of listing factors questions. Doable, but boring. But next time I think I should just be pragmatic and not indulge myself. Just do what is doable, do it well, and force myself to like it.

Bleah ah well...should stop thinking about it. Exorcising myself of it here. It's not that the essay was bad per se, I felt it was passable. Just didn't think I did the question justice. Didn't feel like I was doing myself justice, by dumping one more topic than necessary. A waste lar, it was a waste. That's why it feels so bad.

After Maths

2005-11-10T19:50:00.000+08:00

A short note here...we've finished our maths papers! Well, not too bad. Challenging stuff though...didn't have the luxury of being bored for those papers. Paper 2's statistics section was particularly fiendish I thought. Hmm but hopefully I didn't make too many careless mistakes.

So that's it for mathematics. If everything goes as planned that'd be the last maths exam I'll ever take in my life. Heh, I wonder how much of the maths skills will persist in memory after this year. On the one hand it's a bit of a pity, after putting in so much work, to have everything undone by forgetting. On the other hand it just goes to prove that in daily life we'll never come across circumstances that require like differentiation or imaginary numbers.

But with the end of maths comes the beginning of the heavy essay subjects. Especially E Hist, which happens tomorrow. Right after this I'll be going off to study more Dictators and WW1. I'll be much happier after E Hist, I think, with the release of the obligation to remember all those facts and quotes. At least until S Hist anyway.

Heh a few of us were discussing plans for next Friday, which is the effective end to the A's since after that there's only Lit 3 and the S papers. I personally want to go watch Harry Potter! Eager to see what the movie makers made of the fourth book. I'd also like to see what Voldemort looks like =P Hopefully they didn't have to cut out too much, though given the size of the book maybe they should have broken up the story into two movies or something. I remember that number four was the most entertaining of all the HP reads...I think because of the excitement of the competitions and the puzzles, and the exquisite vexation of Rita Skeeter. Heh, Rowling does pull off stereotype characters very powerfully...

Last Day Before

2005-11-07T21:48:00.000+08:00

How surreal is this...it feels like we're all trapped in some kind of time warp...everywhere around us people are getting ready for the holidays. Christmas lights are out, end-of-year sales are beginning, soon they'll be piping in the holiday music, and Goblet of Fire has premiered in the UK. And we're still stuck studying stuff like international trade. It just doesn't feel...natural. Especially when you think of it, so little of what we're doing now will actually matter in a month's time.

(I realise that Econs is like the Physics of the humanities...you have a set of principles that don't apply all the time, and you have to choose the right models for each set of circumstances, and you learn it all with the knowledge that you'll never need to see most of it ever again. Bleah. Very frustrating, macroeconomics. I shall be much happier when next week is over.)

Hmm but on the bright side at least it's about to happen. Sixteen hours to go until the last lap of this twelve-year sojourn through the halls of academia starts. At this point I really am impatient for it to just happen and go away. Heh, the Christmas trees are beckoning =P

And well...the year is finally winding to a close. It has definitely been worthwhile. These two years have, all things considered, been the happiest time of my life, I have to say. Not the most pleasant, not the most eye-opening. Just more in equilibrium. And in this balance, yes, even school has contributed in some way. Given a different set of circumstances I don't know whether I could be happier. Not that my dreams have come true. But I have more dreams now.

Right...melodrama over. I shall do my yearly summary of everything on Christmas, as usual, so you guys can wax lyrical with me on the 25th =P For now, though, it's time to hunker down and get this thing done! To everyone, may you have clarity of mind, calmness of heart and precision of expression as we enter this the greatest of our tests. May you be kept safe and satisfied as these weeks pass.

As for me...I'll survive, I guess. It's just something we all have to do. Like NS, which, from this perspective, is actually looking quite promising (I actually had a dream about it last night...was sent to OCS, but then reported to the wrong unit, and I woke up just before some sergeant condemned me to an eternity scrubbing the toilets). Shall have a trip to look forward to at the end of the year...it's rather timely, really, how these trips appear at the times when I really need something to support the spirit. It's a marker that shows that there's an end to this gloom =P

Onward! I shall see you guys on the other side of the brink.

Back to Esplanade Again

2005-11-04T22:01:00.000+08:00

I think what International Economy is in I Hist is an attempt to include something vaguely social-history-like in our history syllabus. Everything else is basically political history. But economic history seems so...dodgy. No detailed facts, you end up describing the systems rather than now people responded to it, and altogether the topic seems to lack the rigour of the Russian Rev or the end of the Cold War or something like that. Heh, and it's just weird to try writing about Bretton Woods without delving into explaining how the fixed peg works in economics terms.

But tonight I am happy =) Went down to Esplanade again, and today they had a local band Rafe and another band Bad for the Boys playing. Striking thing was how much foreign talent there was...Rafe had two Indonesians, and the other was totally Filipino if I'm not wrong. And, come to think of it, it's also surprising how much local talent there was. Mmm Singapore's home-grown singers and drummers aren't too bad really.

Fantastic stuff tonight. Heh, it also demonstrated the need for the performers to enjoy themselves onstage. Took a while for the audience to warm up...a long while, so Rafe who played first was a bit short-changed by the stony response. But by the time Bad for the Boys came up the crowd was ready. And partly I think also the average age of the crowd decreased over time. At the start they couldn't even get the people to clap along, but by the end people were singing along with them, and that, I think, is quite an achievement. It did help tremendously that the performers looked at ease on stage and genuinely happy to perform for the audience. Heh, especially the female lead for Bad for the Boys, who was really really enthusiastic with that mike =P

It was really surprising. Practically everything they played are among my favourites...Evanescence's Wake Me Up, then, to my great surprise, Creed's My Sacrifice, and then they ended off with an amazing rendition of Sweet Child of Mine. That guitarist just took my breath away...such speed and precision that I've never seen live before, and what stage presence! And that was the one that really got everyone going. It was exhilarating, to hear the opening riffs for Sweet Child, like the bell of an ice-cream truck promising a visual treat to come. And everyone knew it.

And it was rather dramatic too, because as the bands played the skyscrapers downtown were lit up on this working day, and there were regular flashes of lightning tracing out the contours of the clouds in the background. Was particularly moved when, in the middle of My Sacrifice, the drums and the lightning cut in at the same time. What more special effects can you ask for? =P And Super Mario (DJ by day, singer for Bad for the Boys by night) said something interesting...that we owed it to our local bands to support them. That he wasn't even Singaporean, but he loved the Singaporean music scene. Interesting, isn't it? Most people would think that the Singaporean songwriting scene is rather barren (I'd agree) - but we do have the raw material now, the instrumental talent, the vocals. All we need is a bit of inspiration, something to sing about. And support from the public. The trouble with denigrating local art is that it tends to be a self-fulfilling prejudice, don't you think?

Mmm but it was a nice end-off to today's punishing work schedule. It really balances off nicely all the stress and frustration of the day, to break out in a bit of reveling at night. I wonder how people cope with studying non-stop all day? It's something that would throw me entirely off equilibrium.

Well, anyway, whatever the case, we're within days of the start of the last round in this schooling game. Got an ecard from our old Chinese teacher, and was surprised that I could still read the Chinese! =) But yeah...time is running low, and we'll soon be called up to the starting line. Hang in there, everyone! It's gonna be all right...

Back to Esplanade

2005-11-03T22:43:00.000+08:00

Was wandering around downtown for somewhere to study, having run into the holiday crowd. The Esplanade side was totally stuffed with people, so the old Marina Square solution wasn't tenable. Then I figured that I'd cross the river since it's a holiday and nobody'd be at work in the CBD. Which was true. But then that meant that there was nothing open. In the end I ended up back at my favourite place, literally next to the river again. Heh, was doing Econs MCQs and Hist essay plans in the shadow of that fat bird statue, and keeping an ear out for all the tourists that were passing by. Practically everyone thought it was weird =P But then again, practically everyone also stopped to take a photo.

It wasn't too bad. The conditions weren't ideal...no aircon, no table. But then there was a bench, and there was a breeze, and it was sufficient for all practical purposes. I wonder if there were any more people in that crowd bemused at the lengths to which Singaporean students would go to study =P And there was the Fullerton nearby when you need a toilet. I wandered into the hotel, and was literally stunned. Good grief, it's one heck of a grand setup they have in there! Dripping luxury, and yet it's not decadent. Grand, majestic, dignified. Yes, it was a dignified atmosphere of unflashy abundance.

But tonight the highlight was the return to the Esplanade to watch one of their free performances. Gosh, it's been almost a year since I did that. It felt really...comfortable, as if returning to a familiar and well loved spot. It definitely cheered me up after all that studying. I dunno...tonight it seemed even more beautiful, the lit-up skyline framed in the twin wings of the sails at the outdoor theatre. Among that crowd of revelers, under the cool evening sky and with the flashing lights and thumping music, it seemed to promise so much, that skyline. A city raring to move ahead.

Tonight's performance was a rock band doing covers of lots of other bands. Tabula, I think they were called. Not bad. The singer could do a pretty good imitation of James Blunt, though he couldn't reach the highest notes. And the nasal-ish sort of Five for Fighting voice. If one could overlook the fact that none of their songs were original, they were pretty slick and versatile. At least they could evoke a response through their interpretation of the songs. Hehheh, the life of the party was, however, as usual, not the Singaporeans but this group of tourists, which, from the look of them, I'd wager were Thais. If you need a party going, you call in the Thais, all right =P They practically supported the whole act themselves by supplying enthusiastic audience response. Singaporeans are endearing in their earnest, dependable, sincere way - it's just that when it comes to things like a good time we don't have a comparative advantage...

I was actually hoping that they'd do a cover of a Creed song, which would have made my evening complete. They didn't in the end...but as I was leaving the house music came in, and what would it be but Higher? Hehheh was a bit spooked by the coincidence actually, but couldn't resist standing there and listening to my favourite Creed song all the way to the end. That definitely set a bounce in my step, even in spite of the prospect of more Hist and Maths at home.

Mmm Esplanade may be superficial and commercially driven and all that, but when it comes to a good time it doesn't come too far short. Ah well, I guess I'm just easily satisfied, but then you make the best of what you have, right? I'm thinking whether I can afford the time to go back for tomorrow night's performance...seems like the ideal thing to offset the heaviness of a day of studying...

French Revisited

2005-11-01T23:29:00.000+08:00

I was thinking whether there was any hope of reaching 150 posts by 15 November, to mark the one-year anniversary of this blogsite. But I guess I shouldn't even try, otherwise there'll be 10 'nothing much happened today' posts =P And anyway will I feel like writing during the exams?

Settling into a nice routine these few days...a nice mix of econs, maths, history. Now that there's nothing else to memorise things have definitely become more agreeable. And I realise that I like Cold War a lot! It's recent, so there aren't too many interpretations to deal with, and the timeframe's really limited, so there's less you need to remember to give an authoritarian account of a question. Was really having fun with Globalisation today. That topic comes up with the most interesting questions, and it's particularly satisfying when the argument just grows itself out of the facts that you have available. Kind of like a Braudel-ish experience, the facts compelling you to a self-evident conclusion.

Well actually I do have something interesting to report today. Was on the way home on the train, and I stepped on board at City Hall in the middle of Mason's Cold War, and then this voice suddenly pierces through the end of the Cold War, and it went something like this: "Sur les rues j'ai vu des étudiants qui lisent en marchant. C'est vraiment choquant!" Heh what are the odds that I'd enter at the very door where there also stood this French couple?

They seemed like uni backpackers, and it was really funny, cos I could just keep up with their conversation. They were talking about the bizarre behaviour of Singaporean students, and from their point of view it's easy to see how we may seem psychotic to them with our fixation on exams =P It was all I could do to pretend to read Mason while stifling my laughter. I thought it was only fair that I should tell them that I could understand what they were saying (on more levels than one) but it would have been too weird. At any rate they got off at Aljunied.

It's so cool to be able to hear native Francophones again. But I do realise that my French has become really rusty. Over the noise of the train and with their speed I could only catch snippets of them talking about the student culture here, and then the girl started giving an account of her lunch: "It's clean, it's cheap, it's good, so why not?" There's only that impression of receiving static, like you have a continuous sense that meaning is being transmitted, that there is a meaning in the air, but you just can't decipher it, and only intermittently does the signal break through. A carrier wave with an unreliable signal. And yet that carrier wave was enough to awaken those old faculties of understanding and speaking French. It used to be such a novelty to be able to keep up with a native Frenchman in a conversation; it was with some surprise that I discovered that I could still understand just enough to be functional, though I couldn't reply them with anything like that speed.

Yep, it's empowering to learn another language. Gives you all sorts of perspectives that you wouldn't otherwise have =P

A Note

2005-10-30T21:50:00.000+08:00

Nothing more to report, really. Just that I think it's time to schedule a break. Can feel the fuse wearing out. Now there's the problem of organisation to deal with, in order to counter the condition in which you have too much information and it all comes out in a disorderly fashion. Usually to solve that problem I'd just study less - it's easier to organise info when you have less of it. But this time round shall try to go for the other extreme. Though I think perhaps I should have tried it out earlier so at least I have a test case.

Trawling the city for places to study, and I realise that the city is generally not a student-friendly place. Nowhere where you can really sit down and study undisturbed. I still think it's really inexcusable to bar students from studying in the library. There just isn't that kind of culture where people would just leave students alone without trying to squeeze money out of them. But ah well, can't really blame them...they are behaving rationally after all.

Oh, got yet another career opportunity from the Navy. Good grief I have to say that they are really too rich for their own good! Where the heck do they get the money to pay for such extravagant advertising campaigns? Well, it's good stuff, and whoever comes up with these ideas is really innovative, but I don't know if it's an optimal way of spending all that money, all the same. Mmm I guess it reinforces the view that the navy is rich, so we should go work for it and grow fat on that paycheck.

Mmm yes...must get Quidam music. It's soooo yummy!

Equilibrium

2005-10-28T22:06:00.000+08:00

Heh unfortunately I don't have any Quidam music, Kueh. Although I'd very much like to have some! Don't have anything quite like the dystopian lighthearted mournfulness of circus music.

Seems like we've got something going on here...a study group emerged out of nowhere that includes the old 4N kids and Soph. She seems to end up in the strangest situations =P Anyway been discovering all the nice nooks and crannies to study downtown, which is so bohemian because you get to feel so intellectual with all these professional and slick people drinking their high-end coffee around you when you're munching down on your daily serving of History. Yep...now that the memorisation phase is over I am definitely happier. I think perhaps I may one day even look back on these days of self-scheduled time with nostalgia.

That is the single biggest advantage of study break - you have your own time in your own hands. Besides that...luckily I've got good study company. But beyond that...heh, we could do with less stress. Much less stress.

I find that I go into a trancelike state habitually now in the afternoons, when the studying is the most intense. It's like you can't respond properly to social stimuli...I always feel so wooden and robotic whenever someone tries to talk to me between 2 and 6 nowadays. But then, dinnertime is always fun in contrast. Get a bit of sugar into the bloodstream and I wake up to the real world again!

Unfortunately nothing much to report these days. Just chugging along. It's not boring, per se...since there is now no time left to indulge in the luxury of repetition. In fact it's a bit serene, actually, the state of being in which you know exactly what you have to do in the next hour or so. It's just nothing remarkable. Heh, being in equilibrium is quite a hard point to write from. Good thing it doesn't happen often, then =P

Oh there's a nice trip at the end of the year taking shape. Yeah...that's exactly what I need at this point...something to look forward to. Imagine the cathartic release after the 29th! Imagine the cathartic release of memorised facts and quotes after every single paper! Heh, at this point I'm approaching the time when I'd look forward to the start of the exams, just so we can get it over with and get back to living life again. And trip trip trip! Fun fun fun! =)

Chugging Ahead

2005-10-26T22:51:00.000+08:00

Today has been really decadent by recent standards, I think. Have finished the memorisation phase of my studying, and now shifting into the practice phase. Shall pull a Joel and do as many essay plans as possible, according to how many question I have on hand. And shall just read essays...Joel's stuff is amazing. I would be happy just reading all that stuff all day long, except that I can't spare that kind of time. But I have to say that with the memorisation done, it looks like a friendlier world. Memorisation is deathly boring. Well, the materials are interesting, and memorising bits of the modern stuff was fun because they tend to be funnier, but it's just numbing. It's a relief, really, not to have to face another full day of quotes.

So happier now, now that I can start putting all that effort to good use. At least can vindicate to myself why I actually put myself through all that memorisation. Going to start on Econs soon! Must get going already, time is really running short. Heh been freaking Joel and Soph out with my schedule. It's not that I cannot deviate from it, really. It's just that I need to show myself that it can be done, that I can push myself that gruellingly. And anyway I've always been like that...sort of have to see things through all the way once I start on them.

It's fun, the arrangement we've got going now. Conan, JY, Joel, Soph, and occasionally whoever else happens to be around, studying downtown. Yesterday dinner at Carl's Jr, which was really insane! Joel invented some sort of cocktail involving a pile of lemons garnished with about half a cup of F&N grape. And what you do is to crush the lemons until the pulp turns purple. Then stick your straw into the mass of lemons and suck. You get this enormous rush of fizziness. It reminds me a bit of some sort of alcoholic drink, though I can't remember exactly what. But yeah...amazing what people can come up with =P

Soph is so enthusiastic about her iBook that I'm fast becoming a convert too. It really is ergonomic computing...a computer that's so adaptable that it moulds itself to your every conceivable need. Rather nifty how that little thing can contain so much information and so many ingenious programmes. Was rather impressed with the post-it programme that lets you paste stuff on the desktop (or dashboard, one of them). Heh I remember trying to do something like that back in Sec 2 with Visual Basic. Too primitive, though, that programming language. And now some inspired Apple guy has done it. Impressive. Heh even today while studying one of the foodcourt staff came over and asked about her computer, and where to get one. It's just seductive, that machine.

Well, I guess you'd want to know about the interview. It was okay, I guess. Not particularly confident that I impressed him very much, but it was a nice chat, at any rate. For the record, we talked first about conflict resolution, then migration rights, then democracy vs benign dictatorship, and then finally conscription. And I was asking him about Cambridge life (interesting stories he brings over from that town =P), and the other interviews. He said that the interviews have been pleasant enough so far - that's a shout-out to everyone else who had my guy for interview. He even mentioned specific people, who I don't think I should name here. Sufficeth to say that there have not been big catastrophes.

I have to say I'm very impressed by the Doctor. He is far more conversant than any doctor I've encountered in Singapore. The only problem is that it gets hard, when you're discussing theory with a doctor who hasn't read the classical stuff on sociology (not that I have, either...but how to bring in stuff like the Social Contract and make it comprehensible?), to discuss the more theoretical ideas. Strange thing...I ended up being the theorist while he became the practical man demanding to know what all my gobbeldygook means in real terms. At some points I think he got frustrated because I kept missing the point of his argument. Ah well. But it was a pleasure on my part at least. Heh, I just hope that it wasn't too much of a drag on him...three solid days of interviews can't be a walk in the park.

Hmm...well, we'll know what happens soon, at any rate. The thing now is that it's no longer in our hands, so we have to turn to more pressing concerns. Russian Rev essays tomorrow, and a maths paper. Back to work, then!

Dinner Reunion

2005-10-22T23:05:00.000+08:00

Yesterday was fun! Productive day, and also had a good dinner at the cool new foodcourt in Wisma. Heh the old gang together again, and with a surprise appearance of Soph, for some reason that I didn't find out. Ah, it always feels good to be back in that gang again...things are simpler in there, and the whole experience is more...acute, somehow. More immediate, I think. Anyway, it's nice to resurrect old running jokes, and to see how well they've stood up to the test of time.

Oh yeah...maybe it's cos we get all sorts of strange notions on the fly. Whatever we did yesterday, I'd better not record it here, cos if the authorities can catch people for slander on blogs, they may be able to implicate us while reading this =P But it's that kind of spontaneity, that degree of throw-all-caution-to-the-wind, all-out bizarreness that I realised yesterday night that I really miss. At the time it seemed outrageous...but with the benefit of hindsight it seems more and more like a good idea. Witness what Fruits and Veggies has become; that was a spur of the moment thing too. Heh, I guess we just click that way. Some sort of alchemy at work in our destinies =P

Needless to say, though, I've given up trying to make RJ's experience into 4N. There can never be another 4N. Whatever fondness I feel for 1A now, it's different qualitatively from the bonds that exist still within that old class. Heh I wonder, though, what Soph thought of it. One evening with six CHS guys. Though I have to admit that we're not exactly representative of our batch...

I was rather surprised when we actually did end up studying last night. Well, not studying, actually, but we actually had notes out on the table. HC people are pathological, I swear. Seeing Joel with his impressive mounds of history around him is intimidating. The sheer amount of work they do (and they intimidate each other into doing) is remarkable in itself. Suddenly I have this notion to start doing essay plans for all the subjects like there's no tomorrow - and what do I find today in my inbox than question banks for all the E Hist topics? Mmm...looks like an orgy of work next week =P

The time is really running out to 8 Nov, and yet the immediacy of the exams hasn't really set in yet. Heh, have even been spending a chunk of time on planing the escapades for after the exams. I think maybe it's cos I've settled into a calm and stable routine, so it dilates my sense of time to make it look like I've got more time than I really have. Probably it's also because after the O's the A's don't seem to be all that alien. Hmph...but an insecure part of my mind keeps trying to psyche me into panic. Well, a certain degree of urgency is useful to bolster motivation, I guess, as long as it doesn't run amok.

TSA today was...interesting. I hate those mathematical questions that ask you to calculate time. So many opportunities to be careless. Heh, and the essay I wrote was rather dubious I think. 30min for an essay question that, under normal circumstances, I would spend more than an hour on. I chose to do a question on poverty, whether it can ever be ended, and if more aid is the solution. After the prelim GP paper, I was thinking of reproducing Naomi Klein's tract. But time constraints...in the end only touched on the complexities of the issues superficially, cosmetically, by mentioning that what I said in the essay must not be taken as the end-all. On hindsight, if I'd kept my wits around me better, it'd probably have been better to focus on one aspect of the problem only, instead of going for the broad overview.

Among the SPS people, I have to say there isn't that degree of suspicion and acrimony that I've come to associate with uni apps. Heh I guess everyone just tacitly agrees not to mention the topic. Well, we all try our best not to intrude into others' chances, I guess. I for one appreciate the effort; it certainly removes lots of unnecessary stress from everyone. But now the next stage of the game is the interview...bleah, really don't know what to expect from an interviewer whose profession and workplace has nothing in common with my application. Heh, I kind of worked out an answer to why I'm interested in SPS, though. I realise, after careful reflection, that all the Sim games I have are basically built on sociological systems. Simcity is more of an economics engine, but sociological indicators like health and education and approval are also used, and the objective is not only to build a rich functioning city, but also one that's livable. And of course there's the arch-sociological-simulator of all time, The Sims. I guess originally my fascination with sociology was thus rooted in a desire to understand the principles along which the Sim games were built, and to find out how come a computer game can so eerily reflect real world principles.

But of course, whether I'll actually dare to tell Prof. Barnes that my interest in the subject is based on computer games is another matter entirely =P I wonder if he'll be amused if I did...

Sociology

2005-10-20T22:33:00.000+08:00

A sociologically significant day. Finally took the time to read on some basic sociology, and I am eager to do it for real now! Fascinating stuff, that...the examination of people and societies in relation to each other. How society is a human construct, but not under human control. Today, read sociological texts that seemed to examine (at least if I'm reading them rightly) reality-constructs, separate and isolating perceptions, the problem of sympathy, the problem of communication, and the concepts of self. Most interesting things read today - society is simultaneously the compelling force and the means of transformation, as well as the end result of that process. In a rather striking example, this guy said that the statement "We make a society" is flawed, because the grammar imposes a distinction between "we" and "society", which is not true. In effect "society" is at the same time the subject, the verb (method of change) and object of the sentence; it is a process that contains itself in its entirety (if that makes any sense at all). Thus, we have "society societies a society".

Also things about the conception of a self, or more accurately, the conception of multiple "selves" that make up "my self". In effect the guy was showing how in decision making and social interactions we have to put ourselves in other people's shoes to anticipate what they'll do and think in response to what we do and think. So within our conscious space, there's our selves, who do the planning to act, and these other selves which are tools through which we can see ourselves from the perspective of other people, and thus can refine our plans on how to act in order to make them more amenable to our actions. A bit complex, this idea. Basically "self" is an agglomeration of all these different perspectives that we continually assume in order to assess our own actions. There may be a fallacy in here, in that I don't think it's possible for a "self" as an entity to observe itself, just as some parts of our bodies are naturally invisible to us. So perhaps it's more accurate to visualise it as a super-"self" observing the possible results of interactions between a "self" that we present to other people, and the "selves" that other people present to us.

What an indulgent afternoon it was, in the library reading sociology and altogether taking a holiday from thinking about lit and history and all that stuff. And was rather proud of Pui Man too, who was making her first attempt at reading law books. Hmm...I'm still not convinced that law is really what she wants to do, but if she can stand reading those formidable tomes and make herself like it, I guess she can carve out a niche in the world of law. Anyway she can start looking like an academic easily =P Also was rather impressed to see lots of secondary school kids in the library, actually delving into the kind of material that I would never have dreamed of touching before coming to JC. Heavy-duty history texts that we're reading now for A level, and even some people looking at sociological stuff that is so technical that I wouldn't approach them at this point. Heh, maybe it's just a case of their choosing their materials wrongly, but still, it was rather impressive to see people in uniform prowling the plentiful shelves.

Interesting, too, was the MFA meeting this morning. What a strange situation to be in...people frankly admitting to each other that they are out to bamboozle each other. From a sociological point of view it is deeply fascinating. Such labyrinths of logic, perception, argument and misdirection that so many deceiving conversationalists can tie themselves into. What do you end up with when everyone knows that it is in everyone else's interests to lie? I'm not sure if any effective communication took place at all. Without some trust on some level, what basis is there for useful common understanding?

I have to say the 2PS is a very formidable character. Viciously cutting, very sharp, and bitterly "skeptical", to use his word. The power and quickness of that man's mind is astounding to watch. It is also very scary because you know there is great power there, and you also know you cannot control it or influence where it's directed against. And his frankness and pragmatism is amazing by the very virtue of its intensity. I'm not saying that makes him a nice guy. But that level of frankness...wow. I wonder what it takes to get to the position in which you can even afford to be that frank.

Heh, after that, lunch at Wisma was a relief. There's a cool new foodcourt there, really quite nifty. I like the concept...not because of the old-town charm, but because the attempt to import an old town's food street into a shopping centre gives rise to such comic and cute effects. It's like eating in a cartoon set. Anyway...was having lunch with Pui Man and Jiaxin, and it was refreshing, after all these weeks of nonstop Humans work, to talk to science people again. Mmm...it's not so much a grounding in the real world that they gave me today, but more like a chance to switch channels and think in terms of a scientist. A spot of mental exercise to freshen up the old intellectual muscles. Just like I think I'll have to do some real exercise soon, before my body starts to fall apart...

Mmm...Cambridge admissions stuff coming up. Just tried out the TSA, and it's an interesting test. Requires too much mental sums, I think, and there was a problem that involved cooking at the end of the test that I thought was unfair to males =P I only hope that I have the stamina to sit through the real thing on Sat. And interview on Wed turns out to be with this guy who appears to be a doctor...as in, a medical doctor. Emma College's admissions tutor, to boot. I wonder what on earth he'd be asking me...I have the feeling that I'll have to develop a case to defend SPS against a medic's skepticism.

Three Days

2005-10-19T19:41:00.000+08:00

Nothing much to report...been studying according to schedule, is all. It feels good to sink into a routine of my own devising. The sense of ownership makes it easier to keep to it. Been happier than last week, partly because the affair has been concluded in its entirety (for all practical purposes at least), but mostly because I've started doing Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, which is a great work! Heh, it's been a real pleasure memorising quotes from there because the modernity and colloquialisms make them easier to remember, and because they're just fun. Really funny. Heh, which other work will offer something like "The way to a man's heart is through his wife's belly"? And it's definitely easier because I agree with its basic premise, all that absurdist/existentialist stuff about malleable realities and subjective perceptions.

There was a strange quote I came across though; Martha says, "George, who is good to me, and whom I revile; who understands me, and whom I push off; who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy, and yes I do wish to be happy. George and Martha: sad, sad, sad." I originally thought she was referring to herself when she says "I do not wish to be happy", but maybe what Albee means is "George, who...I do not wish to be happy". Which one do you think it is? Either way the grammar is still rather awkward.

Oxford people having their interviews this week. Good grief, it causes so much unnecessary acrimony, this whole uni application thing. To be sure, it concerns our futures and all that, but some of the competition is just plain unproductive, and is just inconsiderate. It's things like these, I realise, when the competition is raised to an obvious and unavoidable level, when all the ugly politicking emerges. And I realise that this kind of thing tends to happen only with girls. Frankly, some of the people have been positively rabid, blowing the significance of this one interview into a life-and-death struggle. Such insecurity...it seems that in the game of realpolitik, any confidence in one's own abilities and chances is annulled by an overdose of pragmatic and assiduous covering of every single base and vulnerability. The truth is, some of the competition can feasibly be foregone in favour of just some more niceness.

Of course, it's undeniable that my aloofness is made easier because I can afford to do so. Yet when I envision myself in that kind of situation, I don't think I can bring myself to go to such lengths to snatch every possible advantage over other people. Heh, I guess I'm timid like that...skin not thick enough. It's just easier for me to forgo the competition and step back. At this point I'm beginning to think that perhaps it's an insufficiency on my part, my inability to play the game an enter completely into the rat race. It may be that I do need to learn how to survive in the real, vicious world. But at this point it just seems to be such a trivial thing. It's not even a philosophical point we're fighting over; it's just a place in a university which was already unlikely to end up in our hands to start with. A little bit more intelligence probably would make no difference, so why not forgo it for some more decency, which will make a difference to other people?

Hmm...yesterday Purvis was talking about Silas Marner, and again the whole Christian-bashing routine came up again. I'm still bemused at how one is supposed to see Eliot's morality concept and Christianity as mutually exclusive. There is nothing that Eliot says that is forbidden in Christianity; if anything, I'm continually surprised at how much the priests seem to agree with what she says. Christianity (or Catholicism at least) seems to be rather compassionate to people and individuals. It's more forgiving than real life, really, without the viciousness and intolerance of failure. To me at least, if you can survive the strictures and prejudices of real life at its worst, then whatever doctrines there are in Catholicism are no problem to accept.

Tomorrow going to MFA again. Heh...yesterday logged into the PSC gateway, and the application process is rather annoying. So much data that must be inputted. I think I should construct a proper CV to keep all the records straight. Someday. And there's also the choices that need to be filled in...I think I shall put MFA as first choice, but beyond that I don't have any ideas. Must find out if MOE will take my SPS degree, if only for the social history stuff that I want to do. Anyway...tomorrow. I hope it'll not be racked with tensions. The last session was very pleasant, with mellow people and intelligent discussion. Basically I think what made it so nice was that it felt natural, like no one was forcing a certain image of themselves. For tomorrow, I hope people won't be putting up pretences about themselves.

Quidam

2005-10-16T22:33:00.000+08:00

Just a short note here. Watched Quidam on DVD today, and good heavens it was good! I wish now that I'd gone to the actual thing. Am determined to watch at least one Cirque du Soleil performance before I die. It's positively magical...it's not so much a circus in the traditional sense of the word as it is a piece of absurdist theatre. Everything taken totally to extremes. Brilliant costumes and makeup to really make the faces of the characters totally otherworldly. And the performances themselves...stunning displays of grace, delicacy, inhuman precision and incredible sheer strength. What really struck me was how little time the show actually stayed on the ground. I mean, there were the usual servings of acrobatics and clowns and juggling on the ground, and rather clever comedy, but most of the time you have people dangling from cloth or ropes and entwining themselves into incredible shapes, or you have acrobats leaping up three storeys to complete this unbelievable human skyscraper, or you have trapeze artists twirling themselves into helicopter frenzy. Seriously a magical experience, that show. I think it would be easy to slip back into a sort of childish sense of wonder under that big top. You'll start believing in magic after that show, because so many incredible things happen. Heh, as it was I caught myself applauding at the TV screen =P

Anyhoos, the very best of wishes for people going into the university interviews this week. The only thing I can think to say at this point is to get a good night's sleep. Helps you to keep your head in the interview, and in things like these, I find that a clear head is the most important asset. Heh, and may as well have fun, right? Knock their socks off, guys!

These Few Days

2005-10-15T21:36:00.000+08:00

Hmm how odd...these few days have been going up and down, seriously. Went back to school on Fri to collect results and everything, and now I think the affair has taken a turn for the worse again. People get the wrong impressions, I guess...the tragedy of the experiential gap, the isolation of imperfect perception. Bah. How some people misconstrue things.

Ah well, but feeling better today, after going to church. That place always provides the timeliest advice. Actually I think that the church is actually more humanist than some of the Protestant denominations. There is really no point at which church teachings and Purvis's most militant views are mutually exclusive. Sometimes I wonder how come he has that view of Christianity, and yet, he's a better Christian than some of us. Anyway, finally found the strength to let it go, and now I feel much happier. The whole thing was really poisoning every moment of my life. Well, at least every idle moment. It gets annoying when you're trying to memorise bits of Silas Marner, and suddenly this gout of resentment comes out of nowhere to whack you off-course.

Yesterday was...good, I guess, all things considered. May I state at this point in time that I don't hold anything against my class at all. Typically I don't put much significance on a class of people, this arbitrary collection of individuals in a room. A class is only the alphanumeric designation for the abovementioned group to me. What is important is the people within. And to that end I am on good terms with them. There is no schism.

It is just that I sometimes like to be with other people. I've already spent so much time with them. And anyway, these people do tend to stress me out, quite frankly. The pressures of performance. It's just that I want to get a different flavour of life sometimes, a different mood. The class's people have grown on me, as in I can work with them, I can care for them, and all that, but taken as a social unit, the class still feels rather surreal to me. Detached from the real world. And something keeps prodding me to tell me that I'm not supposed to be there, in that high-octane super-achiever world.

Heh poor Soph...I'm afraid that my situation is stressing her out too much. I do feel that I've impinged on my friends a lot these few days. Soph the voice of rational distance, Joel the familiar distractor. For these people I do think that things will not return to normal; they can't pretend that I didn't ever suffer a virtual psychological collapse on them. But they're sporting people...they'll play along with me =P Good thing for me that I had them handy; but I'm beginning to see how it may not have been such a good thing for them...

Watched Peter Pan yesterday with YS...boy, that was something that I really needed! An escape into a fairy-tale world. And what an extravaganza! These foreign productions, with all their sleek sets and supercharged acting and high-tech special effects...they really pushed the Esplanade theatre to the limit, and I've never seen such spectacular performances. They must have dumped kilos of glitter through the course of that show! Heh, and at one point, Peter Pan actually flew out over the heads of the audience, and for a breathless moment, your stunned mind actually blossoms with awe, and you do believe in fairies.

I never noticed, though, the dark undertones of Peter Pan. The whole idea of stereotypes being broken, the undercurrent of darkness in the Trappers, and the notion of a magical world in fragile equilibrium. The way they did it, the maxim "Without belief, there is nothing" is not just a childish mantra but carries ominous implications. It's something that we Singaporeans need to hear, I think. Heh, was rather disappointed when, at the end, there was this audience participation bit, and the cast tried to get the audience to join them in the dancing, and even from the middle of Circle 2 I could see the reluctance in their movements. Ah well...slowly does it, I guess.

Oh, and a note of encouragement for the uni apps of everyone! US apps being sent out now, and everyone's busy freaking out over them. And the Oxbridge interview schedule has been published, and I didn't know I had to take a written test! Bah, now there's something else that will disrupt my carefully balanced schedule. Well, I hope everyone has a fun time, at least, doing all these applications. The future is looming ahead, and it seems that our time has come to close our fingers around it.

One last thing...got my enlistment notice today. Jan 7th is the magic date now. Really quite cool, because JC's going in at the exact same time as well. It all sounds rather exciting, actually...sailing to the secret military base on this remote offshore island, getting all that military gear which is like all our childhood toys enlarged to adult size, and training to use guns and tactics and all that. The way they worded the letter for BMT makes it sound rather nice. At this point, I actually quite look forward to it, honestly. The prospect of a new adventure; that's what it looks like now. The only problem with the date is that I'm probably going to have the suckiest birthday ever next year =P

Resolution

2005-10-12T21:27:00.000+08:00

Once again, thank you everyone for your kind words. It's going to sound sentimental, but they have been instrumental in pointing the right direction out of this mudslinging and trash. Puts things in the right perspective, that at the end of the day, it's still people who matter.

Yesterday night was...interesting. Like I said, was investigating the physiological effects of extreme duress, and one of them was to totally kill the appetite and send me to bed with a splitting headache. I shan't scare you guys with the details of the exorcism...it's just that right before going to sleep, suddenly there was a painful jerk and a sort of exhilarating pain, as if God had finally lost patience with me and yanked the whole affair out of my hands. Catharsis? Exorcism? I don't know. I was in the middle of a round of prayers. Hmm...but after it happened I suddenly fell asleep, so if this was God's doing then he derailed my endeavours towards a higher divinity...

Mmm but this morning was much better. With one night's distance between me and the affair, and with the spatial distance of not being in school, everything fell into its rightful place. Opening today with watching the news was a good idea, as it turned out. It's hard to pick at this issue when you're hearing about the devastation in the Himalayas and in the Amazon. Everything jumps into its correct focus. And downstairs, people were clearing up after a funeral. And then, the whole of yesterday starts seeming rather self-indulgent, with me wallowing in my self-pity.

At this point, I would like to reassure everyone that I am all right, for the most part. I am functional and studying for my A Levels, and everything is proceeding as it should be. What seemed impossible yesterday, I have been able to reduced to bite-sized chunks today, and I am determined not to bother anymore about this stupid thing. Heh, even talked to P about this, which was rather weird, to tell the truth. Hard to overcome the barriers of position and prejudice to talk frankly. But absurdism has always taught us how important clear communication is. As to that, therefore, a working relationship has been restored. Respect has been restored. Trust, though, has to be rebuilt over time. I find that with regards to him, trust lays me too open to unexpected turns in mood. It is dangerous to take him that seriously.

And as for J, I hope never to cross paths with her ever again. That should be no problem, considering that I don't plan to return to school (that is now not so much because I can't stand school, but because it just isn't a productive use of limited time). Can I forgive her? Well, I guess I can. In fact, I think now that it takes too much effort to nurture a vendetta. But forget - no, I don't think so. It'd be idiotic to forget. I shall remember what she did, if only to know how to recognise it in the future and cut it off before it has a chance to blow up in the faces of innocent people.

The main toll of this whole thing, after all, is the people. It has placed too much stress on too many people. It is astounding, really, to see what one person's self-centredness can do to so many people. In fact it seems even the teachers have to go out of their way to try to resolve this issue so everyone can return to more important things. This cost is why there can be no practicable reconciliation between me and J now. The infliction of such wanton suffering is just plain disgusting; quite frankly, this relationship is not worth saving. Eliot is right, after all: the superior morality is the one that takes into account the most people. It'll take lots of argumentative acrobatics to convince me that her viewpoint takes into account anyone other than herself.

Oh well. In other news, however, discovered a nice place to study today, with Joel and Lucas. I promised not to reveal the location, in case it gets flooded with people =P Hmm...interesting, to catch up again with Lucas. He seems to have ended up doing the stuff I'd never have expected him to get into - first Higher Chinese, and now Econs and Maths. What happened to Lit? Anyway, it's nice to be out with real people once again, tackling the familiar task of studying. It's a refuge in Marlow's rivets, as Shoojee said. It feels normal, it feels worthwhile, it feels real. Mmm and reading s-urreal and april-da-fool's blogs grounds me back in the familiar. Enough with living in this ludicrous limbo. I'm eager to get back to normal life, and find my way back to real life again.

Grief

2005-10-11T19:35:00.000+08:00

Before I begin today may I remind the reader that this is my sovereign territory, and I am entitled to write what I like in it. The choice lies with you if you want to read this. The only concession I will make is not to name the people involved, and this is done as a courtesy, not a right for privacy. As far as I'm concerned that right has been reneged when respect for my person has been infringed upon.

Well, there is another post, which is so ugly and incoherent that out of consideration for the readers who are not involved in this (another courtesy, not a right), I don't think I can post it publicly.

So that's the end of that. The thing is practically over, but psychologically I still feel terrible. All through the day I've been investigating the physiological aspects of heavy stress. Stomach upset, high blood pressure, a nagging pain in my head around the temples. This whole affair is so ludicrous I'm still amazed it happened at all. There was too much stress all around, and so little to show for all the trouble. And none of the committee deserved to be put through this at all.

People seem to forget that we're a charitable organisation. Our objective is not so much to give CIP hours as to collect money for the needy. After all the trouble with this, I think I'm never again going to go into charity work, if I'm not in charge of the organisational auditing side of affairs. It was so hard to get the approval, get the equipment, get the venues, and even giving money to the charity was hard, as if they didn't really want our money. As to the issue, to be fair, there were severe organisational shortcomings. But we achieved our main purpose. Now, to lambast the whole organisation over the issue of 10 hours (and 10 CIP hours at that, and 10 hours that would not matter to anyone in 2 months' time at that) is to be grossly unfair in my opinion. This whole thing has been taken out of its proper perspective.

There has been an affront to all our dignity, I think. That is the lasting damage. That is why I'm not able to let it go. My impression of the 'system', and the people who work in it, has changed catastrophically. For someone to be able to get away with this, to stand a charitable cause on its head to milk it for insignificant statistical gain, is downright disgusting. That's what is eating at me...disgust. Not pure, uncomplicated hatred. But a deep disgust at the persons involved.

And it's not just J. It's P, too, and his cultural arrogance that was so inappropriate today. Normally I can let it pass as just being what expats do for kicks, but today it went too far. It was wholly unnecessary and inconsiderate considering all the people who were involved. To be fair, his perspective on this issue was really restricted; by rights he shouldn't be involved at all. But it is just plain inconsiderate behaviour to presume to override other people's sensibilities with your own views.

Hai...it's an ugly feeling, this disgust. Poisonous. I can feel it eating at me. I need to get it out of the way fast, because I frankly can't afford the time to nurse a grievance. But what is the way out? I tried to give the whole shebang up to God, and for a few minutes I'd feel better. Then my psyche would grab the issue back from God and start gnawing at it again. It's not that I don't want to give it away; it seems like I'm incapable of detaching myself from it, to find the right perspective on this, to make the injustice and the hurt seem less personal and more manageable. It's a scary feeling, to have emotions that are out of your control.

One thing's for sure. I have no more patience for this ridiculous issue. I have no more patience for this ridiculous system. Clearly going to school has begun to incur too high an opportunity cost. It'll take a lot to get me back in there before the A's. I don't care anymore what the school thinks, since they seem to be liable to think the most ridiculous things.

But I have to thank everyone for their support again. It has been an ugly day, and I'm afraid I've imposed myself upon too many people today. Soph and Joel had to bear the brunt of it again. It's something vicious that wants to express itself, but I think I don't have the right to bother people into listening to my rant, especially given the circumstances we are all in now. But then it's hard to contain and control, you see. Really draining. I tried out a suggestion from Atonement: found a switch of wood and started whipping the air with it. That was relaxing, listening to that switch sing through the air. And then sitting in a tree...it felt like returning to the real world again. The wood, the sunshine, the wind, and a spot of rain halfway through. That's what the real world is made of. That's what matters, not what goes on in the confines of those white and green walls. Perhaps therein lies the path out of this mire.

But yes...thanks to everyone for their understanding. I shall try to get out of this as soon and as painlessly as possible.

Vexation

2005-10-10T22:29:00.000+08:00

Mmm yes that's what I thought Lit should be like too, Kueh an Shoojee...but when teachers start contradicting each other then things start to get scary. Well, like I said, they probably aren't contradicting each other explicitly, but the thing is that how to reconcile the two is not clear to the students, which is the crux of the problem. Had Grace and JC over yesterday, and Grace was saying that we should read "around the text", like read about the sociohistorical context that produced it, read all the critical commentaries, read all the psychowhatsit that is related to it. While I'd maintain that first and foremost you need to read into the text, as Purvis has explained. The rest is interesting, but only inasmuch as they can be substantiated from the text, and even then, the text is of primary importance. An essay with two quotes or something like that doesn't seem to even require you to read the books it is based on to be written. Ah well, will ask Purvis tomorrow, clear this up as soon as possible.

* * * * *

Today was a traumatic day. I've not felt such poisonous feelings since that incident with our poor Chem teacher in 3N. A passage comes to mind in Atonement to describe the feeling. Now, this is my sovereign territory, and I am entitled to write anything I like here, but I shall do a courtesy and not describe what happened here. This is not a question of violating privacy, because as far as I'm concerned this situation is so pathetically petty that it doesn't deserve the dignity of privacy. This is just a courtesy to the people involved. I shall say no more, except that I do not want anything like this to happen to me ever again. Ever.

But a good thing was that Soph and Joel were over today to study, which was a real blessing, because they definitely helped to purge my psychological state. Those feelings are really too ugly to be entertained (probably something like that is normal experience to Kurtz or someone like that), and I did find that with their help it was easier to draw back from the madness and the sheer fury and to pull back and take the right perspective on this. That it really wasn't worth the time to stress over, that it was better to let this whole thing drop. Having their presence was soothing, I have to admit. By myself I'd probably have destroyed something to release the tension.

Heh well, allegedly we were supposed to study, but you know how things like this work out. In the end we did like one hour of work, I think, before the second stage of the crisis broke and disrupted my plans for the rest of the day. I think the worst thing about this issue is the sheer amount of time inexcusably wasted on it. The whole thing blown grossly out of proportion. Anyway, I said I won't talk about it anymore. So anyway, watched lots of Whose Line to prevent me blowing a gasket, and then we just talked for like two hours or something. That was the end to our scholarly pretenses =P

At this point I can't really express properly how much I valued Joel's presence. Mmm...it's the feeling that he really does know what it's like to go through something like this. It's the feeling that you're not alone with your own demons, I guess, evidence that it is possible to overcome them successfully and to go on to become a healthy person. There is definitely relief in finding that at the top, one doesn't need to be wholly lonely. A commonality of experience and sympathy that is bracing, reassuring.

And Soph...hehheh the three of us make a rather interesting social unit, if you want to look at it psychoanalytically. We are such a brutally realistic bunch =P No pretenses can survive the laser glares of three realistic cynics. We were talking about politics in the two schools, and then somehow it turned into an evaluation of the love problem. Nothing new there, since we've all gone through the arguments so many times already. And then holidays...hmm I'm really wanting to get away from this place now. Increasingly unwilling to sacrifice my holidays for the early placement for the scholarships. To go somewhere were politics has no role to play, where one can afford to relax, and where the luxury of boredom can be re-embraced.

Actually right I have to thank everyone for, well, if not rallying around, then at least expressing concern. For this issue, the less people involved, the better, I think. Anyway everyone else definitely has more important things to do than to get embroiled in this cute little dispute. But it does feel good to have at least a secondment in my opinion. Makes me feel more secure. It is thus with a tinge of pleasant surprise to see that so many people actually care about the outcome of this thing, the impact it'll have on the people involved.

After dinner (where everyone, even my family, joined in the fun of imaginary flaying), we watched Russell Peters. Hehheh, laughter really is the best medicine in these scenarios. Reduces blood pressure, apparently, and it resets your perspective to something more reasonable, allows you to step back and see the real issue at hand here. Heh, maybe tomorrow I'll throw in the Indian accent, just to disarm the atmosphere...Anyway, was thinking that for a society to be able to produce such a hilarious character, and for that society to be able to absorb his racial jokes without resorting to arrests and fines, is a mark of maturity. Like Shoojee said. A sense of humour and a sense of tolerance; maybe these two are the engines behind the progress of society.

Oh well...today wasn't a complete lost. There was a good revision for Heart of Darkness, one that I was intending to use to complete the last Quote Thematiser. Unfortunately today's thing seemed to have proved too disruptive and I'm afraid I've lost most of the more complex ideas. But putting the final touches on the Thematiser, there was a feeling of nostalgia, I guess. No more creative work now, from now on it's just practice and memorisation all the way up to the A's. It was actually fun to do the Thematiser, because the book is such a good read. And I know a part of me will miss this quote-trawling and notemaking, will miss the well-worn mental paths of choosing and explaining textual material. Ah well, I hope that the Thematiser will make a fitting end to the whole series, at any rate.

And I have to put in a note that the whole Thematiser and Organiser project has proved rather successful, I think. More people are really starting to share material and advice and help. It helps to reduce the unnecessary tension, I think. That's why, I have to thank everyone for their help, in defeating the oppressive competition that is so easy to slide into.

Anyway...tomorrow...I really don't want to go to school. Will have to waste even more time over this stupid thing. Bah, it feels like I'm going to war now. Like I'm a watch-soldier waiting for the dawn on the eve of battle. But either way, this thing will end tomorrow. I can't afford the time or patience to let this thing drag out any longer. The boundaries of civil discussion and basic decency are about to be breached, I think. It'll be a test of mettle to see whether we'll be able to maintain our patience and clear-headedness tomorrow, whether or not we'll be able to transcend the personal emotional level that threatens to poison all of us.

Well, we'll see what happens.

Last Day of Classes

2005-10-08T20:55:00.000+08:00

Yesterday was the last day of classes! Maybe there will never be a scenario in which we will actually have to sit in a room with 20 other students and listen to one teacher again, especially if we're going into one-on-one supervisions next year (hopefully). But still, yesterday was a bit of a non-starter, because it was so short, and because quite a few people were not in school.

But was determined to make it worth it, so brought the guitar to school. After all, what is a guy to do between the end of school at 10am and the start of Hist S at 2pm? Mmm thank God for my guitar, it's become the primary stress relief method nowadays. Cheap, readily available, and devoid of guilt. Managed to play Light in Your Eyes for Chern's singing pleasure, but it doesn't sound as good without piano accompaniment. Ah well. I like playing Stairway to Heaven! Such a melodic line for the verses. I leave the pro guitar solos to someone else...

Two worries yesterday. First was a real mess with the somethingood hours...had to straighten things out, and avert several political incidents with people getting "insufficient" hours. In all fairness I don't condone any more changes in hours, especially additions of hours, because most of the requests for addition so far have been largely unjustifiable. Yes, we have help friends out and all that, but if you want to quibble over such a trivial thing as CIP hours (not even the CIP itself), then clearly you don't deserve it: no sense of charity. And anyway, here's a situation in which we can actually enhance equity. And finally, the greatest reason, because it'd be such a bother - one change will become the reason for more changes down the line.

Another one was for Lit S. A bit bizarre, because the approach given by Mr. Evans and Mr. McConnell don't seem compatible with what Mr. Purvis has been telling us. For them the approach seems to be not so text-based, and you talk about the historiography of the novel (i.e. put it in its historical context and evaluate whether it is typical of the literary interests of the time), and you talk about narrative theories (stream-of-consciousness, pseudo-psychological mumbo-jumbo), and basically get all theoretical. Now that sounds like what Grace (the VJ one, not the 13A one) has been telling me is the right way to do things, and I've been telling her that it must be text based first and foremost. Well...like for Econs, now's a really bad time to tell us that our style has been wrong all this time. But like for Econs too, maybe this conflict can be resolved, in that the essay should start from textual analysis and then use that as a foundation to delve into theoretical philosophical tracts. At least I hope it's not an entirely incompatible approach with what we've been doing.

Actually I think this prelims has been very lucky for me. My screwed up lit papers happened to coincide with what the teachers expected, I think...only the PCs and the Frost essay turned out as expected. And I'm thinking that if Purvis had read my Lit S books, or if my S essays had not been marked by him, then I wouldn't have the results I have now. The trouble is that I haven't convinced myself that it's not a fluke, that I can reproduce that kind of performance in November. At this point in time, though, I think that is the healthier position to take. Now is time to guard against letting it get to my head. After all, usually I find that I'm actually stupider than I think I am.

Ah well, so that was yesterday. Nothing much to report really, except that I wanted to make a note of the end of formal classes. A week that is remarkable only in its overall dreariness I think, though to be fair there have been bright enough instances provided by helpful and open people. I shan't reflect on the class now...don't think I'll be able to do it justice at the moment. But I do feel a tad sad, because our time is coming to an end - regardless of everything else, endings always tend to invoke moroseness in me.

* * * * *

Today's FIREfly Seminar was more or less a waste of time. Didn't tell us anything particularly interesting, or even new. I don't find myself fancying working in any of those agencies besides STB actually, because of the heavier economic leaning of the others. I'd much rather work with people than with numbers, and it strikes me that it is a bad idea to let economists and engineers determine Singapore's tourism skyline. I seriously think I can do better than "Uniquely Singapore"...

But on the bright side, I like how these things have the way of turning into impromptu reunions. As may be expected, there were quite a few HC people there, and even met JC (incidentallly I must put a stop to the spreading of that issue...it's getting way out of proportion). It was good to see Joel again...feels like talking to a kindred spirit. I still wish we were in the same class, or at least the same school. But ah well...that guy is going places, and if things work out then we'll at least be in the same country next year. I wonder if I'll be able to crash Oxford like I crash HC now =P

Poor Pui Man, though, had to tolerate hours of my whispering asides to her in the talks. They were really too pointless for words. The most vexing thing was that they were wasting valuable time, time that could have been spent studying or playing Civ III =P So I found myself outside the auditorium, allegedly on a toilet trip, and eventually she, Joel, JC and Lucas had joined me, and we were holding a sort of shadow conference about prelims and scholarships and whatnot. Rather amusing now that I think of it...I wonder whose bright idea it was to make us sit in an LT for 3 hours straight with no breaks. And I wonder why no more people actually entertained idea of staying outside the LT. It wasn't as if there was something to miss on the inside...

Waiting

2005-10-05T21:56:00.000+08:00

Been rather morose these few days...there's a pervasive feeling of tiredness and listlessness, and I really can't bring myself to bother about so many things. I think partly it's because of all the little niggly details that we have to take care of now, trivialities like CIP hours and the stupid, stupid PEARLS points. Ominously, somethingood has come back to haunt us. Inevitable, really. I just wish that people wouldn't plumb for hours so desperately. Seriously, some people just don't deserve the full package. I believe in fairness. It's the game, I suppose...at this late juncture, tidying yourself up so you'll look good and shiny, squeezing out every last advantage you can get. It's all so depressingly petty. I really cannot bring myself to care about this kind of thing. So there's this pang if incisive annoyance whenever anyone starts talking about things like this. I'm beginning to realise that perhaps I'm not so good at the game of living in the ratrace after all.

Also probably some of the sadness is because everything's grinding to an end. And it's ending on such a shallow note too, with checking of exam papers, no new things to think about, just pottering around the same old thought paths. I always thought it should end with something more wrenching, but this glide to a standstill instead of a spectacular crash is also deeply sobering in its way. There's a feeling that we're allowing everything to quietly die; it's only Purvis's lectures and lessons that are still memorable now. The weight of words and years. But maybe in this case I'm being unnecessarily sentimental. Maybe everyone else knows, just as most of 4N knew, that the end of the formal school period is not the end to all companionship.

But I think mainly the moroseness is due to the waiting. There's a sense of anticipation that pervades these days, a sense of incompletion, of something else that we should be doing, somewhere else that we should be. I think this is my way of gearing up for the next couple of months, the waiting, the plodding, the waiting to do something else, to be free again, to have my time given back to me. So, school is quickly becoming a surreal experience, something in which to go through the motions, a waystation to something more important afterwards. It is with a sense of unending tenseness and anticipation that I watch these last few days dribble away. There is something else that I must do.

There is a real danger, now, of becoming separated from the real world. I find myself clinging to anything familiar, anything normal, now. Sometimes I just walk straight out of class because the conversation had taken a turn that makes absolutely no sense to me. Outside, one can breathe real air for a while, have real worries. Even real worries have become a luxury, worries that matter to people, to other people. In a strange way, it's only when I'm alone, thinking about other people's troubles, that I can begin to be at peace. This idle rumination, this worrying, is something that I'm good at, and it has the comforting sensation of a familiar and well-beaten path, hardened by years of weather and wandering.

But there are moments of reality, I think, that still keep me in control. Mornings in 13A where I expensively spend my energy before allowing myself to be sucked into the groove of normal lessons, moments of conversation about immediate problems outside the sphere of the academic, a look that does not size me up as a potential threat. And today, the ultimate feel-good moment, watching Corpse Bride with Thong, Shoojee, Wiggy, Ben Woon and Ian. Hehheh...that show is worth it just so you can get a good laugh. An hour and twenty minutes of unthinking, unstrategising, unplanning laughter.

I don't like this, I don't like this, I don't like this. I want it to end as soon as possible, and yet a part of me warns that if this passes then nothing like it will come back again. If only this week didn't have to end in competition, then I'd think that it has been really worth the trouble.

But then again, I've done it before, and I can do it again. Step out of the game whether they like it or not. I'm not going to play something that I have no desire for. I'm going to make this week worthwhile no matter what.

Notes for Today

2005-10-03T21:58:00.000+08:00

The post-exam holiday effectively ended on Sunday with an orgy of Civ III. Was busy battling invading armies à la Revolutionary France. Heh but got bored of it after a while, and watched Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Oddysey. Wow. What a show. It's positively psychadelic! No real plot tension, I think, but the visuals were stunning for a show made in 1968. Heh, it really struck me as more of a theatrical piece than a work of cinema. I mean, it even came with house music, and an intermission (considering it was 2.5h long, that was a good idea). And the classical music made an exquisite counterpoint with the spaceships flying around - someone once called the docking maneouvre a ballet in space, and the movie really plays on that concept I think. And near the end the movie dissolved into a series of psychadelic light shows, whose significance I really can't tell. And finally it ends with a positively existentialist or even absurdist piece of drama, exquisitely carried out with an intricate set and splendid choreography.

All in all I don't think the movie actually qualifies as a sci-fi piece. It's more of an exploration of the emotional effects of the manipulation of audio and visual media, I think. The intersection of music with the visuals is absolutely stunning. Like with the Monolith, which is really just a smooth black slab. But add to that really spooky and discordant choral music, and you get an ominous and looming alien artifact. At the end of the movie the Monolith appears in a Victorian-era room, its blackness stark against the light colours of the room, and the swelling music brings one's terror to a climax. Elegantly done.

And before that went to Claud's place for dinner on Saturday. Hehheh, that was really enjoyable =P The salad was excellent, and the pizza was good too, though I missed the making of the pizza since I was in church. And the conversation! I wonder sometimes where the heck we get those ideas from. Poor Vaish...it seems like she always gets caught making double-entendres nowadays. Hehheh and later Thong pulls one of the classic party gags by presenting Claud with a package swathed in newspaper, and forcing her to disassemble the formidable wad to find...an origami jack-in-the-box inside =P That was a good one indeed!

Oh well it was fun while it lasted. Now's time to start to do real work again! Heh trying to get enough revs to launch away on maths and Conrad at the same time. Now that this is the last Quote Thematiser, most likely of all time, I feel rather nostalgic drawing it up. More motivated now than ever before to make it something that will be truly useful to everyone, not just myself. One last fling with Lit, I guess =P

Bleah, I need to brush up on econs starting immediately, but it's rather demoralising to have two teachers effectievly telling you to do two different things. The mainstream teachers don't seem to be on the same wavelength as Mr. Sowden. Well, to be sure, there's probably a way to reconcile their different approaches, but now is certainly not the time to reveal to us that we've been taking the wrong way all this time. I mean, I understand the need to demonstrate fundamental economic understanding, but I find it so much more interesting to do the analytical stuff with the assumption that some economic ideas don't need to be explicated to death before they can be used for evaluation of a certain scenario. What seems to me to be the case now is to revert back to a Sec 4 Geog-type regurgitation of concepts and catchphrases, which is all well and good, except that they should have told us sooner that this was the correct way of doing it.

Brighton Rock by Graham Greene is a rather entertaining read, actually =P My last piece of fiction before I really put aside novels up till December. It's not really lit-heavy; there are nice instances of clever devices, but it's not particularly challenging to read. Just fun to follow a thriller's plot for once. A good old crime flick, as it were. Wiggy says that it gets worse nearer the end, but so far I've rather enjoyed it. Reading about the seedy underworld, and how one murder leads to another, and now the whole thing's about to erupt into a marriage. Rather bizarre, the lengths to which one person will go to feel secure in his position. I myself value my security very much; it is the foundation of my self-esteem. But would I kill for it? I don't think I have the guts to do so. Which makes Pinkie rather compelling, in a Kurtzian sort of way.

How often is it that you get to chat without compunction? Heh, with everyone geared up over marks and gearing up over A levels and the approaching UCAS deadline (now that October is here it's time to think about universities again =( will try to get it over with as fast as possible), it's positively therapeutic to ramble over the comversational continuum without any particular purpose except to burn time. Heh I remember talking about the old school again. You'd think that after all this time I would start to lose my attachment to the old place, but I keep surprising myself; the old place has a stronger grip on me than I expected, and it's always a nice feeling to talk about it. Am I old enough to start feeling true nostalgia for something?

Introduced Chern to Bejeweled today. You know, the game where you flip diamonds around? Hehheh what sheer delight and fun, a kind of satisfaction at being able to react so quickly to visual input. Apparently she's already addicted on it. She should challenge Mum =P Ah well, we get our fun wherever we can, I suppose, and who's to begrudge her her jewel-switching enjoyment?

Thoughts on Home

2005-09-30T23:08:00.000+08:00

Almost over! Only the S papers left, and then the whole thing can descend into the mists of ancient history.

Nothing much to report, except that it's heartbreaking to see people brought low like hat by a single symbol on a piece of paper. It's almost totemic, the way we are drawn to that A, the way we seek it like the truth. Well, perhaps not like the truth, but the ardent chasing is rather misplaced, I think. One must remember which things are the important ones, in order not to go crazy over the silliest things.

Honestly, I don't think I deserve the highest marks I've gotten for Lit. The Silas Marner thing was the messiest essay of that paper I think, and the Native piece I was deeply unsatisfied with because I lost my train of thought in the middle. And for Lit S, the novel essay, I've already said how disappointing it was to write. The thing is that I know that I should have written better to do justice to the works I'm writing about. Well, one can say that the marks are not a measure of how well we praise the literature, but how we write essays, but still, it feels decidedly fake if you can get away with plodding without getting to the meat of a book's big ideas. Now and then there are flashes of guilt at having gotten so high for something that I didn't think was that good to begin with.

Lit exam returns don't really make much sense in that way. The worst essays I've written got the higher marks, while A&C was the second-lowest in the range, though I spent the most time on it. The only one I was really satisfied with was the Frost one. Now it's time to figure out why exactly did the teachers think I should have gotten those marks.

Now that almost all the exams are back, it's also time to start thinking of the next round. The priority now is to start memorising enough stuff to write lit essays with, even with a bit of memorisation thrown in to smoothen the process of writing Lit S work. The most urgent of that task is to generate the Quote Thematiser for Heart of Darkness. One last fling at compilation.

* * * * *

What do you do when people you don't know start to stop you in the corridors to congratulate you? Sometimes I don't even know rightly what they're talking about. Strange, very strange. And what can you do but to accept as graciously as possible and hope that they'll drop the subject like a hot coal?

I don't want to be paraded as some kind of academic poster boy. I've got better things to do.

* * * * *

Well, nothing to report really. Yvonne came over today to register for the SATs on my comps. Well, there's an indominable spirit that is well worth admiring. It really does take a lot of determination to stick through Chinese Lit and all it requires. And to pursue French A by herself effectively, it's like taking a third S paper, from what I gather. There is sheer power and potential behind her that sometimes I do find, frankly, unsettling. The only thing now, I think, is for her to find a way to connect her determination with a way to achieve what she wants, and she'll be off to better things.

Thong and I were talking about Singaporeean society and culture today. I agree more or less with what he says, about the deathliness of Singapore society. To be sure, it seems to be a rather fashionable opinion to hold nowadays. But I still have faith in the Singaporean people, as in real people, who don't have the luxury to leave this island like we do. They are the people who are stuck with this place, and this culture, and they are the people who will make it work. Part of why Be With Me was so poignant was because Eric Khoo found enough fragments and scraps in the Singaporean society to weave a story out of; it is these scraps that I think will persist, and will form the bedrock of Singaporean society. The seeds of a Singaporean character, even if they are tiny and weak. I don't think all hope is lost for Singapore's society yet.

I don't really understand how some people can think of leaving Singapore permanently so lightly. How is it that some people can divorce themselves so easily from all that bind them to this little island, the memories, the quirks, the people? Singapore definitely has its drawbacks, that is undeniable, but all things considered, I will not leave this place unless I can take all of my people with me at least, if I can't take all parts of what has so far constituted my life. My family, my friends. I will not be able to bear to leave them all, if leaving Singapore entails that.

Heh, speaking of homes, Claud's housewarming tomorrow. Looking forward to it =) It'd be nice to take a breather after these two rather gruelling days.

A Sense of Perspective

2005-09-29T21:06:00.000+08:00

So many distressing people today, it's really quite unbearable. Practically haven't been able to relax in school, because I feel compelled to be on my guard against other people who seem only to want to dissect me and my work. How do I say this without sounding arrogant? I am proud of what I have done, I did not expect to do nearly as well, I am still trying to figure out what I did right, but seriously, this is a sad reason to get an aneurism over. It's only an exam, for crying out loud! It's not even the real thing! If you're not going to America no one will remember what you got.

I cannot deny that it feels good to have concrete rewards for my labour. But I have to keep it in perspective, and I don't think that I am licensed to say that I deserve all that I got. And everyone also should put things in perspective. Please, I will appreciate it if people stopped looking at me like a threat. It's unsettling, unwelcome, and wholly unnecessary. And so I find myself in the rather strange position of having to defend my private space against this horde of people who want to vivisect every essay I've written.

It does seem that people suddenly lose sight of their sense of perspective when the papers came back. To be fair, it was definitely not a good idea to pile all the papers on us at once. And of course, it is only proper to mourn and reflect as necessary. But to wallow in it? Today's most preposterous sentence, moaning about being doomed to go to NUS. People forget that thousands of others would give a lot to get into NUS.

But then again, I probably exaggerate for effect. Unease only applies to people who make a big deal about it, mainly the people who are really close to beating me anyway. To tell the truth, for the most part people have at least been discreet about it. And as for the adverse reactions, it's not like I didn't expect it. But to prepare for it and to have to deal with it are different things. It does feel partly like a barrier is descending between me and everyone else. Now I don't feel safe discussing the exams at all...it feels inappropriate, and it'd probably come off as insensitive, knowing my way with words...

But yeah...there will still be nice people around which I can start to relax. For them, I am deeply grateful, probably more grateful than I can tell them. It's only among them that I find that I can step back and take stock, reassess my position, maintain my sense of perspective. And that sense of perspective is exactly why I totally and unreservedly refuse to be placed on a pedestal and worshipped. If you must, go worship God instead, he can reward you better for it.

* * * * *

But yes...rant aside, the last three days have been rather pleasant. Had Pui Man over on Tuesday to play the guitars. Heh rediscovered the delights of that instrument, and am now learning how to play Stairway to Heaven. Once again I'm rather surprised at how a really simple chord progression can be made to sound so nice. Of course, the singing and the guitar solos (which I can hardly begin to approach) probably have some part to play in it =P

After fiddling around with the guitars for a while we ended up playing Uno Attack with Marcus (which I kept winning, for some reason =P), and then he obligingly taught us how to play Beyblades, which is in fact rather an intriguing sport. Lots of physics and engineering principles hidden in the guise of a game of tops, actually. And then Marcus challeneged me to a game of Chess as she watched. Hehheh, he's so good at it that it's spooky. Or maybe it's just that I'm still a lousy player. But it must be some kind of gift for him to pick up the game so quickly, and practically badger me into fighting for my life. One of his weaknesses is that after half an hour he gets bored and starts making some strange moves. But beyond that I find it rather remarkable.

So it turns out that lazing around at home also has its merits. Heh, haven't had the chance to relax like that at home for a long time, usually because if no one's home I'd be playing on the comp. Good to have some human company to remind me that real life is still worth living =P I can't really describe here the peculiar quality of the comfortableness of sitting in the living room with a hand of Uno cards, and your brother on the one hand and a great friend on the other. Usually my visions of wellbeing include a fireplace and squashy armchairs, but this comes close enough =P

* * * * *

Wednesday, being the last day of our hiatus, needed to be lived to the maximum, so I was out of the house at 0830 on the way to East Coast to meet up with the Guitar Exco. We were planning to spend a day at the beach, and in the end we adjourned to a bike rental shop, where Lixin convinced practically all of us to try out rollerblades. Heh, I discovered that I can actually move in those blades! And quite smoothly too, if I do say so myself. There is a certain rhythm that you have to find, a certain posture and pattern of precise body movements, to control your CG and propel you forward with the most economy of energy and grace. The amount of coordination and concentration is really quite a mental workout. The only thing is that I held my body so rigid throughout the thing that I started to get a backache after a while...

Poor Shuching kept falling off her skates. Was staying back to keep her moving towards the pier that was our final destination, but she ran out of time before she could reach it. On the way back we discovered her problem: not a coordination fault, not a balance problem, but a wheel missing from her right skate =P

After that, because the weather was looking worrisome, we adjourned to Marina Square for a movie. They went to watch A Sound of Thunder, while I parted ways with them to go catch Be With Me at PS. What a haunting movie. It must be Eric Khoo's best work to date, and by far the best Singaporean film I've ever seen, though it was a ripoff of the concept from Love Actually, just as Home Run ripped off Children of Heaven. The film's strong point was its use of a specifically Singaporean lexicon of images and metaphors, specially intended for a Singaporean audience. Like the contrast between an old provision shop and the skyscrapers in the distance. A security guard ogling a sleek businesswoman through the security cameras. The prolific use of MSN and SMS to communicate between two lovers (I think Singapore's the only place where text messages can be used as a viable communication medium like this believably). Chinese food from a can, high-rise apartment blocks in which people sleep on mattresses on the floor.

But what was particularly haunting was its examination of communcation. It's not really a film about love, I think. In the whole film, there must've been less than thirty seconds of speech, and none of it in dialogue. There were the two lovers communicating by SMS, and then there was this deaf-blind woman, living in an antiseptically bare apartment, speaking in a high-pitched voice, and having speech palmed into her hands and fingertips. Can you imagine that sort of isolation, communicating only through touch? But even for her the isolation was broken, through taste. Food plays a big part in the movie. And the remarkable thing about that woman was that she types out perfect English on her Braille writer, a whole autobiography, which is used as the inspiration for the movie, and appears in subtitles during the many poignant silences.

Most jerking moment - one of the girls committing suicide. Or attempting to do so. I thought that was a really stupid reason to die for, but what really made me cringe was the familiar settings. In fact, the movie's setting makes it really much more remarkable than it would have been, I think. Because it's set here, and uses the Singaporean lexicon, you really do get the feeling that the love stories really did happen, or if they did not, then they probably can happen. It's this credibility that made me cringe when she jumped, because she seemed so much like a believable, real person.

The most moving moment was the end. I shall not spoil it, I shall only say that I empathised with it most painfully. It was one of those things that I never expected would happen to me, and yet that type of moment of connection, I believe I have experienced before. And the fact that it is so close to home...this was one of the very very few movies that actually jerked tears. Perhaps partly it's also because I haven't had a cathartic cry in more than a year, but I thought that I was perfectly capable of dissolving into sobs right in that cinema.

Heh I bet Chern was rather bemused. After that I was not really in the mood to talk, frankly. It sparked off a lot of questions about our Singaporean life. Pointed out quite a few things that I must admit are actually screen-worthy. Things that are worth recording, expanding on artistically, communicated to the rest of the world. Maybe now's the time when we develop a culture worth preserving.

After that was a jump down to Adam Road for dinner with Andre and gang, the people who were at Kats's house all day. Heh I can only repeat that being with these people has a particular grounding effect that I find really reassuring. There is an assurance that real life goes on, there's only so much that can be ruined by you, thaqt after all the reminiscing and reflection people will still be there waiting for you. Seeing them again was really good for the spirit, if nothing else. One must remember what the important things are.

* * * * *

Again today I am struck by what good friends I really have. People I sincerely feel comfortable with, people that I trust. People that I can approach in total frankness, who do not expect the world in return. Seriously, faced with such people, why do people still look for this elusive and slippery thing called "love"? I have yet to see a loving relationship outside of marriage that surpasses some of my friendships.

I will not say more, it'll probably nauseate you if it doesn't bore your pants off. But I continually see reassurance that people are what matter most, and that Eliot is right: the divine is approached through the human.

Update

2005-09-25T21:06:00.000+08:00

Hmm, to Oh-san, depravity is all a matter of perspective. People are more often designated mad not because of a biological defect but by the force of conviction of everyone else agreeing to treat that guy as mad. Personally I'd rather like to think that I'm not depraved =P And anyway, it may not be very useful to condemn society for being depraved, because of the strength in numbers, and because they're only guilty of being afraid of something different, that's all.

* * * * *

Everybody! Have a peek at the newly refurbished homepage! Click on "network" below to have a gander. Originally it was meant to be an after-exam present for myself, and because Soph said that the old page looked too amateurish. In the end total development time was like 3 days. Two to come up with a workable idea, and only one afternoon today to code and draw everything. The problem with my host is that it doesn't allow Java applets, and I don't have something fancy like Flash, so everything is in animated gif form. Drew every single frame on that page meself =P

Except for the cow. That's a photo of the one that was given to me by Young. I figured that since Frexprog One is enshrined in my MSN pic (which is rarely seen nowadays since I no longer log on regularly), I should put something from Texprog somewhere prominent (but all things considered, people don't usually visit my homepage, so it'll be sequestered away in obscurity equally).

And on top of that, major update to paleblack. Realised that I haven't updated it in a heck of a long time, and I didn't realise that I had been writing so much stuff in the meantime, which meant that a lot of stuff had piled up. And I'm noticing that the categories that I created for all the works are proving to be inadequate...but it's interesting, to see what I envisaged I would write about in the future, and now seeing how mistaken I'd been. Quite funny actually...

Greg's friends were over just now for a studying party. Heh, well, I think they were trying to study, but this house has five guitars, and their group had three guitarists at least, so that more or less scuppered their studious tendencies =P Normally I would be rather annoyed by the racket of three guitars being whacked at once, but I have the luxury of time now, and it struck me that I should be merciful to other people who have to face exams =) Okay, I should not gloat at my brother. But to have all this time now...sheer bliss!

Quills

2005-09-24T09:25:00.000+08:00

Hehheh such hedonism yesterday...delightful, delightful. Having finished prelims two days later than most other people, now I have a lot of catching up to do =P

Well, nothing much to report for Hist S. It went much more smoothly than Lit S, I must say. Rather had fun yesterday doing the paper, did one question on history as science, and the globalisation question for Section C. I think 1.5h per essay is really reasonable, considering how we have to think on the spot. In fact, compared to the normal History A, I think the S Paper is in fact easier. At least you're given some breathing room.

Well, after that went out with the 13A people to Cine to have lunch at Phin's. Hehheh, Zhi An has the quirkiest eating habits =P Anyway, we were going to watch The Brothers Grimm, and to burn away the excess time after lunch we sauntered down to Kino, because there are only so many places that you can go in Orchard. And of course, since it's only one of the two really good bookstores on our delightful little island, also ran into practically the whole world there...let's see...HC Humans' Rui Min, Clarisse, and others who I don't know personally, then Weijie and Lilian, all in the space of walking from the Finance section to the Econs section. And then, on the way back to Cine, bumped into more Guitar people. In fact, bumped into 1B people too in the course of that afternoon. Yep, the whole world was celebrating the end of the Prelims, and everyone was in town.

Hmm The Brothers Grimm was all right as a movie, but didn't strike me as particularly brilliant, though. Maybe it's because it merged together practically every fairy tale in the book, with the exception of Snow White, perhaps. Some parts were really bizarre, like this mudball that comes to life and consumes this child before morphing into the gingerbread man and jumping into a conveniently located well of its own accord. And towards the end I think the farce was a bit over the top. But it was entertaining to spot the fragments of all the fairy tales in the movie, to see how all these fantasy elements can fit together so nicely into a (somewhat) coherent plot. And I swear, there was even a shout-out to R&J in there! An Italian biting his thumb at the evil witch queen. It was also rather amusing to see the blatant historical symbolism in there...taking place in the backdrop of the Napoleonic Wars, you see the arch-rationalist French Army bombarding this enchanted forest, and then the witch queen just blows a breath and the whole lot of them is swept away.

After that, no time to breathe, shuttled down to Clarke Quay to meet Ian, Thong and Vaish for dinner. She brought us to this rather quaint riverside restaurant called Cafe Iguana, and everything was Mexican-themed (afterwards it turned out that she brought us to the wrong restaurant, but ah well, it was rather nice, as far as mistakes go...). It strikes me that the Clarke Quay area has really been ruined by the sort of layering of modern architecture over the old shophouses. There's some really garish development there. Anyway, I think I can learn to like Mexican food...the chili and beans and fragrant rice with soft tortillas was really good! Hehheh, thank God for Mexicans, who invented such charming food. Oh, and for some reason, Vaish thought she recognised two of the staff there, and we met an RJ kid part-timing it there too.

Then it was scooting off for the cherry on top of the hedonistic cake, Quills at the DBS theatre. My gosh, it was the most brilliant play that I've watched in a long time, and also the most terrible play ever, arguably. The stage design was a veritable stroke of genius, designed diagonally so you can see more of the scene, and that design makes it harder for the deliberate diagonal stage positioning of the actors to look so choreographed. And the lights...the lights! Sublime. Liberal amounts of smoke, strategically placed spots to cast spooky silhouettes, and the pillars of the set, which under normal lighting look like they're melting, turned into visions of the Inferno. And then there was a point in time when suddenly, the whole set was pulsing with red, and you realise that the pillars also double as blood vessels, the channels of human passion and brutality. And twinkling little lights create starry backdrop, while candlelight on the floor marks out a cross, and against the positively hellish setting, these elegant touches were shockingly incongruous. They did not enooble Hell; Hell debased them.

And then the visual effects were further enhanced by the acting. The notorious Marquis de Sade in full white clothes, his writing in red wine, or even blood at one point. And as the play progresses, the Abbé tries to exorcise him of his depravity by stripping him of all civilised dress, which of course produces a very ironic effect considering what he is trying to do. Give the Marquis a scrap of civilised clothing, and he'll find a way to write his terrible tales on it. Strip him of every stitch, and he becomes his tales, the embodiment of the naked, primal, depraved human being.

Of course, the presence of a naked actor on stage has its visual impact (I still admire that actor deeply - what must it take to be able to keep your wits about you when hundreds of people are staring at your nudity?), but the play was more than an eyeful: it was a seamless melding of sensory inputs, an experience experienced at all levels of consciousness and perception. The sound carefully blended with the light to create a most exquisitely tense mood, the alluring lines drawing the audience unwillingly into the moral mire, until the point when they realise that they are actually willingly following the Marquis through the depths of the human soul.

There were some positively brilliant moments. First, at the end of the first act, was a story, whispered by the naked Marquis through the corridors of the asylum, another tale of terrible sexual appetites. And, as the actors on stage start to whisper in chorus, and the Marquis, caught up in the terrible beauty of the horrors, starts yelling the tale, so no one in the audience can avoid being buffeted by the full attack of the shouted words and the insiduousness of the whispers, there is a piercing scream, the stage blacks out - and a woman drops from the ceiling, hanged. That was the climax point of sheer terror, a flash of depravity in the halls that draws the audience in, and where the tale leaves room for the imagination, the audience experiences the unpleasantness of being able and willing to fill in the blanks. And though the dummy struck me as rather cheap after the interval, there is still the lingering discomfiture, because the Marquis was able to plough my own mind and reap a crop of its own horrible images.

Then there was this scene, in the second act, where the Abbé was pleading with the dead body of a girl for forgiveness, because he had not been able to restrain the Marquis from telling that tale, which drove an inmate mad enough to kill her and reenact the story on her gutted body. And then, in a rather surreal moment, the body wakes up, and begins an account of how she ascended into heaven and met Christ, who kissed her wounds and made them whole. And as she speaks in this reverent tone, smoke billows from the pillars, and out of it materialises, spookily and utterly silently, a figure in white with arms outstretched. As the smoke clears, you realise, sickeningly, that this Christlike figure is the Marquis in a full flowing robe suspended between two pillars. At this point, the girl's tale turns horrific, and she starts describing the sexual ministrations of the Almighty, and when she reaches the climax, the Marquis is bathed in red light, and bellows, "There is no God but me!". And then he disappears in another cloud of smoke, while the girl starts to seduce the Abbé, and in the end provikes him into penetrating her virginal body - at which time the scene returns to normal, and the Abbé realises he has been rutting with a cadaver.

It was utter poetry on stage. But the message it carried was utterly terrible. When the second act was playing itself out, there was this constant sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach, and yet I was at the edge of my seat watching because I could not but watch, and because a part of me actually does want to know. And there was not only the vision of the anti-Christ to contend with. The Abbé, in an effort to silence the depraved tales of the Marquis, first strips him and his room, then cuts off his tongue, and then chops off his fingers, toes and penis, and finally, when the Marquis is just a lump of flesh, flailing about helpless on the floor of his cell, "more meat than man," as the Abbé says, he finally cuts off his head to silence his thoughts. And as the boxes of disassembled body parts pile up, one can see the Abbé, in his devotion to delivering the Marquis from evil, unknowingly sacrificing his own goodness and descending to the Marquis's level of morbidity. It reminds me of that movie in which a murderer baits a cop to commit all seven deadly sins, the last of which is murder, because the cop has to kill him to stop him killing more people. It is this image, of goodness pouring itself into a void of deepest darkness to try to fill it, that is disturbing, because in the end, when all the goodness is spent, the darkness still proves as unfillable as ever. Lots of people noticed the parallels between this idea and Conrad's, but I think this play puts it across much more eloquently and chillingly. The idea is not new to me, this uncomfortable notion that human goodness is wasted in a world of unfathomable depravity, but it was the immediacy of the experience in the theatre, the impossibility of detaching yourself from the stage, that was so deeply unsettling.

The most disturbing idea is arguably what the Abbé says at the end. Driven mad by the Marquis's spectre lingering in his (and all of the audience's) mind, he ends up interred in his own asylum, and in the closing scene, paints the image of a lone man, standing on a sheer cliff at the end of the earth, with no angels to guide him and no devils to lead him astray. "Would that there were," he cries, "would that there were!" This, of course, is the idea that there is no utter morality or immorality, and without gods and devils, all goodness and evil must come from man himself. Without Satan, who can we blame for our own sins? And again, the idea is not new; Eliot and Hardy and Conrad all say it, that God and the Devil are equally just figments of our own reality-constructs, and nothing more than our own creation, and in the soul of man lies all the potentialities of abject evil and divine good. But it was the intimacy of the experience that was so unsettling. In that theatre, I came to the conclusion that if I were in the Abbé's shoes, I would be driven to come to the same conclusion too.

It is not God that I doubt; last night, while ruminating, I still felt that there is a God. It is my capacity to believe in Him that I must question.

After that play, I was really numbed, stunned, even drained. More or less deadened for most of the trip home. Partly, I guess, was because I'd been awake since 0530, but mostly I think because of the psychological exertions in Quills. I wonder what it is like, to be able to shrug off the impact of that play so easily. Maybe concentrate on the technical excellence rather than the message? But I thought that I needed to stew in all its implications for a while. It was not a pleasant play, but I must still give it laud for its technical and psychological mastery. It is plays like this that reaffirm my belief that the theatre is a superior form of art, the blend of all mediums of experience. The theatre is a potent psychological force indeed, and wielded in the hands of masters, brings the audience to face the limits of their own existence.

Well, so that was yesterday. A most brilliant day, I must say, even given the rather disturbing play at the end. in fact, perhaps it owes a lot to Quills to make it so doubly memorable. Hehheh, well, now that prelims have ended, and we have our time back, I plan to start reading a piece of fiction, and I plan to start playing the guitar again, and I plan to get bored and like it. This afternoon, going off to Kats's place for his birthday. Mmm...more hedonism to come, it seems =)

Historian's Craft

2005-09-22T21:39:00.000+08:00

Heh yesterday's lunch was really fun, thanks Oh-san and everyone else =) Went to Billy Bombers at Bugis Junction, which was a good atmosphere to unwind after a bout of prelims. Our table practically ordered every drink there was on the menu, which gave rise to all sorts of lewd allusions =P Heh, it's at moments like these when you're glad that you're young, because after a certain age how can you be so forward?

* * * * *

Today, spent the whole day studying Hist S. I must say I've never felt so strongly about history before, but after reading all the stuff about the Annales historians, it hits you that for some people, History is not only a profession or a pastime, but a matter of life and death. Was reading today, in the National Library, a book about the end of the Cold War, and the introductions to Braudel's Mediterranean in the Ancient World, which is different from his other, vastly famous, Mediterranean, and to Marc Bloch's The Historian's Craft. The Cold War essays were informative, one of them was particularly acerbic and amusing, but the ones that really struck me were the Annales historians.

When you read their words, you feel a sense of power surging through the pages, you get a sense that this work means a lot to them, and every page vibrates with that kind of passionate intensity. And there must be that kind of intensity, when you're writing historical tomes thicker than the average Bible. But beyond the care and detail with which they carry out their research and writing, there is also a sense of sincerity of belief in the meaning behind what they are doing. That was the time before postmodernism made its entry into the historiographical arena, when there was still a strong sense that every work of history was one step closer to the truth (even now, I think the postmodernist stance is too extreme, at least for practical purposes; history as an intellectual endeavour may never reach the nirvana of truth, but the meaning lies in the effort to work towards it nevertheless). And when they speak of history, it is with an obvious tinge of love.

Not that, of course, only Annales historians are that enthusiastic about their work. Eric Hobsbawm has that type of passion too, I think, even if it's not so intense. It's just that Bloch and Braudel's conviction is so thick throughout the bits of their work I read. And it's also remarkable how they combine the conventional rigour of Rankean history with their structural interpretations, all held together with doubtless flair in style. They use narrative, but not as an end-all for historical writing, but as a tool to make their structural point. And what narrative! Gripping stuff, that, as far as historical writing goes. I guess part of that style comes from being French (some of their extreme politeness may be the side-effect of literal translation), part of that passion comes from being in the War, and they do owe something to Ranke for inspiring their anti-establishment interpretations. It's just rather compelling to see all these elements coming together in a historical rather than literary work.

In fact, it's rather intriguing how they continually refer to themselves as craftsmen. Bloch especially calls himself an artist, a craftsman, an artisan, a journeyman. Probably there's a tinge of the early Annales preference for the peasantry in there, but I think he has hit it. A historian is necessarily an artist because of the medium he uses to conduct his science in - language. I found something that Bloch said rather compelling: that a historian, while having to conform with scientific-esque rigour in handling his sources, should not be ashamed of his artistic leanings, and indeed should acknowledge them openly, in order to disabuse the readers and each other of dangerous assumptions of impartiality and omniscience, and to acknowledge that history cannot be blandly objective (and that indeed it should not be, otherwise the fun would be lost). It is the combination of intelligent analysis and comprehension, and artistic flair and expression, that is really striking.

So there I was, near the top of the Library, overlooking the city as the sun set, reading Bloch's slim volume. Then it occured to me that the volume was too thin to be a complete Annales work. And flipping to the contents page, it's obvious that the work has been truncated. And it turns out that Bloch was executed by the Nazis before he could finish the book. Febvre, in editing the unfinished manuscript for publication, wrote a moving memorial for his friend, just as Bloch wrote a touching tribute to Febvre in way of a dedication for the book. One always hears of how the World War tore apart families, societies, whole civilisations, but to have evidence of such a sundering in your hands...it was jolting.

"For, as soon as we admit that a mental or emotional reaction is not self-explanatory, we are forced to turn, whenever such a reaction occurs, to make a real effort to discover the reasons for it. In a word, in history, as elsewhere, the causes cannot be assumed. They are to be looked for..."

I have to say that the truncated ending to that book, in the chapter about causation, is most uncanny. And it's hard to explain why that ellipsis at the end of the book, followed by the few blank pages, were the most saddening thing I've read in a long time, certainly since the first time I finished Atonement. It is like Bloch put his life into the book - he said that it was an escape from the daily life under occupation. And to have the book cut off like that...it's like holding evidence of a murder. The thought path abruptly truncated. The ink that did not flow, I wonder what it would have said.

Lit S Aftermath

2005-09-20T21:28:00.000+08:00

Bleah today's Lit S paper was heartbreaking. I was thoroughly dissatisfied with my treatment of one of the essay questions. The PC was okay, and so was the question I did Olds on, but neither was fantastically insightful, in my opinion. In fact, the Olds poems I used were probably too well-matched, so they end up saying practically the same thing. No point of contradiction on which to build a satisfying synthesis. Anyway, the novels question was a complete washout, I think. The question was on the treatment of time, memory and loss, which is exactly the perfect question for Atonement and Gut Symmetries. But the PC was on memory too, and I think I used up all my big ideas for the PC. Which meant that I should have chosen another question. But started on it because it was one of only two questions well matched to my material.

This paper seemed almost tailor made for my works. One question on family relationships pointing obviously to Olds poems. Another on temporality pointing obviously to the novels. And a PC that touches on one of my favourite topics to boot. But in the end, the showing was really not impressive. The novels essay was so pathetically disordered that I had to stop myself halfway in order to reset my train of thought, to prevent it from going in circles. And at the end, I have the feeling that I only managed to scratch the surface of this issue.

The thing is that with regards to memory, I seem to be obsessed with its impact on life, but not on how it's created, or what actually constitutes it, and what is its function in life. As such, my interest in memory is mainly self-indulgent, reflecting always on my own memories, not questioning how they come to pass, or why they have such an effect on me. So, when it comes to doing an entire essay on them, I end up basically saying how memories are good and powerful and poignant, but I don't consider why they are so, what function they serve in a book. Added to that are the really good quotes that are scattered throughout both books; there are so many quotes that I don't know which to use, and only write randomly, depending on which quote I happen to come across when flipping.

It may be that the novels are too dense to lend itself to such detail for 1 hour of work. What I know now is to do the novels question first, to make sure that I have all my big ideas available to be employed in the essay. And not to do something that I like too much, because it could get self-indulgent and blind me. It's very hard to impose order and clarity when your material is so bountiful, and you like the topic so much that you try to include everything. All in all, today was very bad essay-writing style. And all that novel-preparation wasted. I have this disgusting feeling towards myself, for trying to show off too much and in the end ending up not doing justice to two great works.

Bleah...hopefully Hist S will be more forgiving. One good thing is that the remaining papers are in the morning, which should protect me from my usual afternoon drowsiness. After Lit S today I realised I could not unfocus my eyes, they had been locked on to the paper for so long. Really fathiguing, the need to construct so many ideas into so many essays in such short notice.

Oh well...prelims coming to an end soon. Two papers left. Now that deliverance is in sight I guess we should make plans, start talking Yalta so the postwar world will not have its power vacuums. I know what I'm going to do immediately: pick up my guitar again and spend at least one afternoon doing nothing but playing it. I miss that six-stringed instrument. And I want to play Risk again too...And there's Kats's party, and perhaps a peek at Be With Me too. Ooh Harry Potter 4 has a new trailer out, and it looks fantastic. I thought Cho Chang was Vietnamese...she looks positively Chinese in the trailer. But at any rate, I must say that she is rather pretty. I wonder where they found her from...

In other news, this morning got a pleasant surprise SMS from Taiwan. Heh, I can't say that I managed to understand all of it...there were two ci2yu3s that I couldn't figure out, even when translated into jian3ti3. But still, it's nice to hear from Texprog Yvonne again. Apparently the shirts I sent off a month ago have arrived. Hmm...everytime I send sea mail it seems to get slower. But all the same, I can't think of a better time to receive it. It's a good counterpoint to a rather bleak afternoon.

I wonder how they are now, the Taiwanese. They should be approaching their big university exams too...sometime next year if I'm not mistaken. I do hope they're keeping safe, and keeping happy. Lately have been plagued by bouts of moroseness...reflecting on all these people that are so far away, and yet still connected in memory (here I go again). And at times, I really really want to see them again, to step out of this Singaporean way of life and slip into the exciting, fast-paced, and most importantly, unknown Taiwanese mode of living. Those were good times indeed, especially compared against the current situation of prelims.

I have a feeling, I think, that I need company, to dispel the gloom of the exams, to ensure that the real world still exists outside of school, the real world that continues unperturbed by our exertions. To Conrad, the implacable jungle was disconcerting. Right now, I find it rather comforting; that I am not capable of changing some parts of existence and thus don't need to be responsible for them. It's a nice feeling, to know that however much you screw up, life will still go on, and there are limits to the damage you can do.

Lit S

2005-09-18T22:08:00.000+08:00

Hehheh been doing Olds this weekend. Well, mostly been playing Red Alert and redesigning my website, though neither one has been completed. But this afternoon really got down to doing Olds. Phwah, her stuff still packs a mighty punch. Especially when you read her work in chronological order. It's like reading a condensed autobiography. And the thing is her precision in description. I mean, I'll never experience childbirth, but the attachment between mother and child is crystal clear in her poems. In her powerful and frank way, she manages to leapfrog over conceptual boundaries. Puissant work.

A note on her tone. I don't know why it works so well. Most of the time it's frank, urgent, earnest. Yes, earnest. And yet it manages to fit all sorts of situations, from describing the poetry in her daughter's body to her first time in a flophouse and then to her feud with her dying father. It's the frankness in her writing that allows all the emotions to surface so easily, I guess. She's baring herself to her reader, unabashed, unpretentious. In her tone, there is a quality of respect, because she doesn't shy away from describing things as they are out of consideration for her reader's sensibilities. There is also a quality of trust, as must be the case when you're discussing things as intimate as sex and childbirth. And there's an element of intimacy, too. A naked soul burns on those pages.

I wonder how she can bear to do it, to write herself down and present herself to the world like that. How can her whole family take it, her exhibition of her feud with her father, her graphic descriptions of sex with her husband and her previous boyfriends? Of course, it may be that all of it is fiction. To be sure, her poems read like a storybook after a while, with plottable plotlines and linkages between poems. But the sincerity adds such a strong impression of authenticity that I think this stuff really happened. Such intense experience in the hands of such a good writer; a coincidence of the two doesn't happen often. What is remarkable is that these things really happened, and what is doubly remarkable is that in reading her work, you can see her life experience materialising in front of you in terms you'd understand.

Heh, real decadence, this is. Studying for Lit S. I wonder if the people doing Econs S can ever rave like this. There is really nothing more liberating or satisfying than such good reads, I think.

Reading Olds's work this afternoon, a wave of moroseness suddenly struck me. I find that I am learning a lot from these books, and when reading a poem about the aftermath of lovemaking, there was a sudden need to reach out to other people. It struck me then, the weight of all those people that I have left behind over the years, the people who did not follow this path that I walk on. These people, crystallised, distilled, romanticised even in the balm of memory, each one representing a tangential path that I could have followed instead. Why is it that the intersections between our individual experiences must be so temporary? And it makes it even sadder that the world gives us so many obligations that eat into the time we have to spend with other people. Especially now; exams are lethal for society.

Anyway, at any rate, it will be all over soon. Already I feel myself on the downslope of the exam experience. Two Econs papers and the two S papers remaining, and then we'll be free to replan our time, regroup and plan our next big offensive. And the best thing is, around this time, everyone will be finishing their exams. Not only the other JCs, but also the people in the polys. Reading all these blogs, and seeing all the happy happy posts about exams ending, one cannot help but be infected by the spirit. This is one of the best times in the year, an islandwide coincidence of relief and satisfaction.

Lately my family's been considering a possible holiday at the end of the year. Slotted precariously between the A Levels and enlistment, somewhere in the middle of December. The possibilities ranged from a return to the free-and-easy of Australia, to a packaged tour to the snows of China, and the latest one, a visit to Oregon to drop in on my mum's old friend. But one that I really like is the idea of a cruise. The only one so far was when I was about to go to P1, on the Superstar Aquarius. (For some reason I always remember meeting my kindergarten classmate on that ship in a lobby with a sculpture of the waves of the sea, a girl called Grace. I'm pretty sure that never happened, but somehow or other my memory says otherwise.) The sea always has a special allure, and the notion of being on a ship is really enticing, especially after Gut Symmetries. Imagine...being on a cruise, tacking along the Asian coastline, every day waking up to a new town, a new port. I'd love to go on a trip like that!

Catharsis

2005-09-16T20:42:00.000+08:00

Woots! The major bulk of the papers are done, we've passed the turning point, the enemy is on the run, and all that's left now is a clean-up operation to mop up the remaining resistance! Heh well, that may be a tad premature, considering that the enemy hasn't surrendered yet, but the battle is more than half won! Heeheehee, it's been so long since the last time I came home without studying to look forward to. It feels really good!

All the papers were all right. If I had to rank them, though, I'd say that Lit was the most uncertain. Rather dissatisfied with my PBQs. The essays were really all so easy to do, I sould have studied more for the lit papers to take advantage of the essay titles. I was only satisfied with Frost and A&C, because they were the essayed questions. For the PBQs, they were not fatal, per se, but I get the feeling that I didn't cover everything I wanted to.

And in the middle of Heart of Darkness PBQ today, my pen ran out of ink. I never realised that exams use ink at such prodigious rates. The effect was to derail my train of thought as I fretted about how to continue writing the remaining essay. In the end Mr. Evans and Mr. Batchelor were kind enough to lend me pens, and in the end managed to finish all the essays, but the disruption of the stupid pen practically shot any hope of a nicely flowing essay.

History was rather good, I think. Both papers. Though I really do have to polish up my UN contextual knowledge. Econs was nice, because for the first time I actually had more to write than I had time for. I just hope that it all makes economic sense now. Maths...okay, no complaints, though the stats section was a tad fiendish at certain points.

So that was this week over. Next week got the last of Econs and the S Papers. I shall enjoy myself this weekend compiling more Olds poems for next week. And I've got a bit of Annales history to read, which should be interesting. But all that will be kept till next week. Now, I'm faced with a night of free time. Should I read Coetzee's Youth or play Red Alert?

Just now me and Yvonne took a lift from YS home, and were talking about universities. I realise once again how lucky I really am to have parents that give me so much leeway to do what I like. Sometimes it's harrowing, but it's times like these when the value of that freedom is made clear. The thing is to be prepared to take advantage of it when the opportunities arise, so you won't be caught out when you have to make a choice. And in the long run, even if you make the wrong decision, at least you won't have to blame someone else. And you'll at least have the distinction of getting to that point in life all by yourself.

Listening to cinema soundtracks on inernet radio now, and feeling serene and unoppressed for the first time in a month or so. Free time really feels sublime! Hehheh I wonder how long it'll take for boredom to set in?

* * * * *

How do you give someone older than you careers advice, particularly if you haven't had a career yourself?

Today's Note

2005-09-14T21:52:00.000+08:00

Hmph should have studied more for Lit. Clearly today's essays were easier than the passage-based, but as things stood only had enough material to do the essay for A&C. Ironically, if I had stuck with my study pattern for the last test, then all those quotes would have come in useful for Hardy. But, as it were, was stuck with the PC, and had to do a passage-based on a Mrs. Yeobright passage that I had decided not to look at this morning before the exam precisely because I didn't think it was interesting enough or had enough in it for a PBQ. Heh, so much for my intuition.

I have a notion that I should start preparing for the remaining Lit essays too, but at this point, two days before they happen, I don't think I'd be able to memorise enough material to make the attempt worthwhile. Ah well. There's a grand plan for the actual As then...to memorise enough of each book to be able to do an essay for each. Right now I'm only equipped to do a Frost essay, though I'm itching to sink into the convoluted reality-manipulations of WAVW.

Anyway...the funniest Frost poem that I've come across, and the latest one memorised:

Fire and Ice
Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

I wonder what's the point of this poem. The destructiveness of love and hate, the apocalyptic scales that these intense emotions can get to, à la Eustacia Vye? A doomsday warning, of Frost's attempt at writing a commentary on science's sensationalism? Is it just a joke? I tend to favour the latter, which means that this quaint little thing will be useful only in an essay about Frost's sense of humour. But it was fun to memorise at any rate.

Been a tad sleepy as of late. I wonder why. Exams are a very unhealthy time, at any rate. The dengue epidemic notwithstanding, sitting around all day reading is not good for the body's equilibrium. And also have seen my fibre intake falling. Though I have been drinking more water than usual. Oh well...shall be off to bed now, I think. Maths 2 tomorrow. P and C. Bleah. I hope I see the correct patterns tomorrow.

* * * * *

Oh, one more thing. The form's beyond recall now, and hopefully, it's on its way to England safe in the belly of a plane. I wonder how much safety a $4 stamp can buy for a piece of mail. Heh, anyway, it is a relief, after all. It's rather amazing how much tension that few blue sheets of paper can cause. Now's the time to shift the focus to more urgent needs (prelims), and not bother about universities until the beginning of October, when hopefully I'll be in a better position to say where I'll probably end up.

Thunderstorming

2005-09-12T18:31:00.000+08:00

I should be studying, to be sure, but it's storming outside now. When it's raining so thickly that everything beyond a few metres dissolves into a shimmering whiteness like the air is dissolving into static, when the drops don't fall but ram, when the rain is a percusion artist on the car roofs, the house roofs, the roads, the trees, everything, when the lightning is so white it's purple, when bolts of power explode directly over you, you have to take a moment and stop and stand in awe, and stick your arm out into a wall of water.

When was the last time you touched water pouring from the sky?

Well, besides this once-yearly enormous thunderstorm that paints everything neon, nothing remarkable has happened. Been pushing myself through a grueling study routine, and been extremely antisocial towards my family. They had a gathering yesterday for the Mid-Autumn Festival, and I didn't have time to talk at all. And when I went to church, it was such a relief to be reciting other stuff besides history quotes. I think I'm in danger of losing my sense of perspective on this exam.

Papers today were fine. Nothing remarkable, except that the SBQ was more doable than usual.

Back to econs then...Everyone! Keep your sense of perspective! It's really too precious to lose.

And it seems like I'll end up in St. John's after all, after this big convoluted detour.

More Scraps

2005-09-08T20:52:00.000+08:00

Bleah I'm embarrassed with the quality of the last post. Didn't do MFA the justice that it deserves. But I was distracted yesterday...first Marcus showing me his discovery of swaths of stick-figure mutilation animations on the net (really quite funny...you simply cannot feel sorry for the little buggers, even if they get their brains ripped out. Dehumanisation at its best =P), and then Greg showing me his newly downloaded Who's Line is it Anyway? clips. And a South Park cartoon about Michael Jackson. Hehheh, I realise I never watched a full South Park clip before, and it's pretty good; funny, but still good. Incisive stuff.

So you see, I really didn't have the concentration to write coherently. The highlight for yesterday was laughing all the way till 0130 this morning.

But yeah. I want to work at MFA. Just filled that in for the section about career plans for the Cambridge form. Shall finish preparing all of the paperwork tonight, no matter what. Then...it'll be off, and the next stage will begin. And hopefully, with the forms beyond recall, life will return to a higher degree of normalcy.

Had a strange dream again this morning. For some reason was back in CHS. And there were some of the Humans people there too, and everyone was in CHS uniform. And, most inexplicably, Stalin was there. We were talking about doing something or other for his son, I can't remember now. But he took me to visit this bookshop, and I had that sensation again, of being in a familiar place. Though the bookshop doesn't exist in real life, it featured in another dream before, I'm sure of it. And Stalin was telling my about his childhood and how he would hang out at that bookshop all the time. And then, we go back to the classroom, there was a scream, and we found Benuel shot in the corridor. And then I woke up.

In other news, was memorising Two Look at Two today. These lines strike me as particularly significant.

Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountainside...
...They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of the path back, so rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness...
...One last look at the way they must not go,
On up the failing path...

Unfortunately in Singapore you can't have an experience like that. It's only when you're wandering an unknown place that you'll get that kind of feeling, the simultaneous urge to go forward and nagging pragmatism always at your back. The thing is that you know that your fears are unfounded, but you don't know exactly to what extent they are unfounded. A delicious feeling, it is, to walk that tightrope and tempt fate. No, not tempt fate, tempt yourself.

"Love and forgetting..." Hmm. Perhaps I read too much into those two words. What happens when the poet's message intersects with your personal experience to produce a whole new meaning? It's so easy to be led astray by one's own self-indulgence.

MFA

2005-09-07T22:53:00.000+08:00

Burnout today was reached at nine-thirty this evening after a more than optimal dose of Econs MCQs. Heh...nothing really remarkable about today, except that I went downstairs for a spot of fresh air and discovered that the jackfruit trees in the park are bearing fruit. How rare it is to be able to touch fruit still on the tree. There were fruits on trees in Thailand, but they were too high up to get too. The last time that happened was on the slopes of the Janfunsun hills in Taiwan. Tangerines shrouded in mist. Today suddenly noticed the peculiar smoothness of jackfruit tree bark, and the deep green smoothness of the leaves. And when you're handling the budding fruit, still soft and finely textured, and when you run your hand down the bark, with its layer of dust and its intimate grooves, then something in you is reawakened. Was it a rebirth, a return to nature? I don't know. That would be too sentimental. But it did feel natural, to do a Li Bai or something and start running through Frost's For Once, Then, Something under that tree =P

For Once, Then, Something
Robert Frost

Others taunt me for having knelt at well curbs,
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper into the well, past where the water
Gives me back, in a shining surface picture,
Me, myself, in a summer heaven godlike,
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well curb,
I discerned, so I though, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths - and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too-clear water.
One drop fell from a fern - and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was that lay at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.

* * * * *

MFA talk on Monday was very very enjoyable! Hehheh, the MFA premises itself is a splendid building, well-furnished, well-finished, with beautiful landscapes. It's almost like an exclusive club...all those splendid facilities, paid for by tax dollars, and accessible only to civil servants and other notables. And they had a not refreshments laid out for us to top that off. My group was the French-speaking one, and they got a Mr. Umej Bhatia to talk to us, and that guy is amazing, speaking Arabic, Punjabi, English and French.

It didn't really feel too stuffy at all. Started off on an awkward foot, when they passed around a questionnaire for us to fill in. Three questions: "What are some of the challenges and key interests of Singapore's foreign policy?", "Why do you deserve a PSC-MFA scholarship?", and "What qualities are essential in a good MFA officer?". It's times like these when SS suddenly comes back to you, and you realise it's not entirely a waste of time; no matter how anti-intellectual the whole exercise is, they can't stop us from raising questions about what they teach. Hmm...but still, this exercise caught me off-guard, so the natural thing was to tell the truth. I wonder what they thought of my answers, though. Was arguing myself whether or not to include what was effectively a self-denying ordnance. But in the end, decided to stick it in, since I couldn't think of much else to say for the second question.

But yeah...beside that, the session was rather relaxed, really. Their HR director was careful to come prepared with a series of topics he wanted to chat about, but beyond that, we were allowed to take the session wherever we wanted, mostly. Ranged from Katrina (naturally) to terrorism to ASEAN and the UN. It was rather pleasant, to spend a morning and a bit of the afternoon discussing not universities but current affairs, and more specifically international relations. Throwing ideas around in a rather civil and frank atmosphere. I wonder if that's typical of diplomatic work. After a while, you can start to forget that you're facing what is effectively a scholarship committee. But I guess creating an atmosphere conducive to discussion and openness is a necessary ability of a diplomat...

The MFA people came across as very intelligent...well, the HR Director and Mr. Bhatia, at least. The HR-AD was busy taking notes and didn't say much, though I think she did smile knowingly once in a while. And from the way they talk, I could get a sense of the working environment they in MFA, and the impression I got was very exciting. That level of frankness and intelligence, that degree of clear and incisive analysis, is enticing. And the way that they go on about their work, I do find it credible that they really do have unpredictable days everyday. Mmm...I do feel like I want to be part of something like that. Heh, even if they're still part of the civil service and are liable to go round and round in bureaucratic circles, at least they make the effort to be frank about it, and actively try to make themselves go somewhere at least.

Heh, they are the most intelligent civil servants that I've seen outside of the MOE. I guess the intellectual inbreeding of such a small ministry does help.

Bread Pudding

2005-09-05T21:48:00.000+08:00

Yes, some things have changed, but I am always surprised by how much has stayed the same despite everything that has happened. It was the one catastrophic decision of these two years...well, the only one so far at least. I can't bring myself to say that it was a bad decision, an outright mistake. No...what I feel is not regret per se, though sometimes in the nights one wonders the age-old question, "What if..." I think I would have taken that decision anyway, at this point - there really wasn't a viable alternative open to me. It's not personal, just self defence. I'm still telling myself that it had to happen sometime, so I can slip into the familiar groove of drawing comfort from the assurance that it will never happen again. But if there is anything to regret, it is that it had to happen with other people on the scene. Other persons.

But still...yes, I'm glad that not everything has changed. Maybe what we had all that time ago is only maintained now because we all agree to prop it up, this ramshackle reality rehabilitated by willing memories and sentiments. Perhaps we are just holding up one last candle against the winds of time, that whisper in our years that our time is up. Maybe we all know, on some deep level, that this is only temporary.

But the attempt is all. And I appreciate the attempt. Thank you.

* * * * *

Winterson's really affecting me. It's a brilliant book. Just finished the redocumenting today, which means that now I'm marginally enabled to do the Lit S paper. Have to take a look at more Olds before the time comes, but perhaps I can put it aside...ration it over the next two weeks. But yeah...there are points in the book that never fail to strike a chord in me. The two death scenes (put one on waystation), the cannibalism scene, and the last union of timelines and memories. Such intense emotions invoked. These two books are the best books I have ever read, in terms of emotiveness. It's because of the remarkable amount of sympathy that I seem to find in them. I'm still not done marveling at the uncanny luck that had me picking up these two books at a second-hand shop for $3 total, and then having them carry me all the way to this spot. The two books must be the most worth-it things I have ever bought. The consumer surplus goes through the roof.

Now, attention turns towards Econs and EHist, the first biggies that are coming up. One week left. Everything in its proper perspective? Good. Then let's get this show on the road.

* * * * *

Was rather peeved after the PSC talk. It was wholly pointless...didn't learn something I didn't already know. And there were so many people there. The sheer number of prospective applicants is daunting. And frankly, I find myself recoiling from the perspective of fighting with all of them for the scholarships. In the eyes of many of them was the glint of determination that shows that they want it at almost any cost. All those people scrabbling and bustling each other for the scholarship. The ultimate cesspit of politics and backstabbing. When that much money and prestige is up for grabs, all bets are off.

Though I am being unfair. I should not be this hostile. There are plenty of good people who are going too for the scholarship. This is where another conflict erupts. I hope each and every one of them gets the scholarship they deserve, but I know that that is not possible. Yesterday, I realised that seeing all those familiar faces, it was not hard to cheer them on in this race, even if they will be my competitors. In fact, I'd like to think that I would be able to be happy for their success even if I myself am not able to join them. The difficult part comes in the case where I end up knocking out someone worthy. A variation of survivor's guilt, perhaps.

In church that afternoon I experienced a deep pang of guilt...no, sadness. The sermon, coincidentally enough, was about cooperation and community spirit. How, as a church, the objective is not only to get to heaven, but to take as many people with you as you can. The thing is to support each other so the most people can get there. Of course, this is different from the scholarship race in a few ways. Firstly, one's place in heaven is confirmed, and all one has to do is to get there and take it. Secondly, there's no limit to the number of places. That does make it easier to be altruistic. But still, it struck me that there was so much competition that was frankly unnecessary. If only everyone would cooperate. If only people were able to look beyond immediate personal interests, which are doubtlessly important, to consider your neighbour.

It's really frustrating...the arrangement is such that anyone who tries to change the way the system works will be swamped by other people's indifference. People will have the incentive to cheat. And everyone at the PSC briefing was smart enough to figure that out, to rationally conclude that self-interest is not compatible with charity. Yes. Sometimes it's pointless to try. Was about to cry, practically (okay, exaggeration for effect), but thankfully, Yiting was there to put things in perspective. Yes, we may not be able to help. And anyway what right have we to impose help on someone? But the thing is to be ready to step in, to be available when needed, to be there waiting to be called (there's something that FEMA could have figured out before Katrina).

Yes. Everything in the proper perspective. She is a levelheaded and goodhearted person. Kind of like Dolly Winthrop...

* * * * *

Yesterday Grace came over again to do the usual mix of Econs and Hist. I was busy finishing off Silas Marner and Gut Symmetries. Heh, is it really that indulgent to devote an entire day to literature? Okay, yes it is. I admit. It was positively sinful. But it sure felt good. And anyway, I needed to get the two books out of the way sooner or later. As things happened, I was positively euphoric to reach the enlightenment points of both books on the same day. The feel-good effect of good literature. Yes. Definitely indulgent =P

We had quite a spread for dinner yesterday...Mum cooked shepherd's pie (a first, to be sure...I didn't even have an idea of what shepherd's pie was...), made a really good salad (with baby tomatoes...mmm...Fruits and Veggies should enshrine them in a song) and even threw in a bread pudding. And while we were tucking into this peasant meal that even Silas Marner would have been proud of, she took out her laptop and told the whole story of her Europe trip in photos. The trips from Bern to Interlaken to Glasgow and then Stratford and Oxford and enchanting London. Heh...these stories I myself have never heard of.

To be sure, my family seems to come alive whenever my friends come over. I find myself sometimes learning more things about my mum when my friends are around. Like they are a catalyst to the chat. But don't get me wrong...I'm not resentful. Far from it. I'm glad for any opportunity to talk to my family, my far-flung and high-flying humble family. And if someone beyond my family can enjoy it too, who am I to begrudge them that? Heh, I guess I should feel a bit sad that such chats don't happen more often, without the help of my friends. I should. But I don't. It's just the way my family is. If there's anything that this home encapsulates, it's privacy. And we grow our own type of love that does not need expression to sustain itself. Sort of like...familiarity. Comfort. And security, total security.

Yes, so we had an hour split between Dr. Dolittle on the telly and snapshots of Europe on the laptop, as we waited for the bread pudding to set. Really really good, the feel-good of the movie, and the glimpses of a place where we could very well be in a year's time. I can't really describe the feeling...something approximating pride. I was proud to have such a family, if that makes acceptable sense.

* * * * *

Had the strangest dream last night...I dreamt that I woke up in Lyon, back in the old room in the Tills'. And Mrs. Till looked in and woke me up, told me to remember my meeting. So I dressed quickly, and departed to head down the street to go and meet...Young. Before I knew it I was walking down the side of a Taiwanese highway, and since it was a long way to go, I decided to stop at this rest stop. There was a carpet shop in there, and a lamp shop, and the lamp shop had such strange and wonderful lamps that I had to stop to take a look. And then it occured to me that I'd seen that shop before. It was at the Night Market in Bangkok. And then I turned around and walked up a highway viaduct and found myself in Silom.

It didn't occur to me that it was strange that Lyon should be so close to Taipei and Bangkok. It was utterly natural. Maybe it's because conceptually, all these places and experiences are equally distant from everyday life. Miles and metres don't matter in the mind, where every centimetre can encompass whole realities. But what was striking to me was that my dream self had its own memories. I actually remembered a previous dream. It was a memory that only existed in the subconscious - I was wholly unaware of it on a conscious level until last night. And yet, I'm sure that it was a memory, that I had walked that dreamscape before, because of the feeling of familiarity that I felt on those highways. I knew the way. I had been that way before. And so, this subconscious memory was brought to my conscious surface.

And I was walking alone. It was natural, utterly natural. It didn't occur to me to look for someone to journey with me. I knew that there would be people waiting at the end.

What does this mean?

* * * * *

Went to the MFA talk today too. It was brilliant...and I am eager to join that ministry now. It strikes me as having some of the most intelligent civil servants in Singapore. But will talk more of that tomorrow, perhaps. That deserves an entry of its own.

Just Some Thoughts

2005-09-02T23:01:00.000+08:00

Eugene: Heh, in view of this warning, do you think that Singapore would be affronted if it doesn't get bombed, since that indicates that it's not in the big league for financial centres?...

Ian: Yes! Lush are delicious. Heh apparently you can send an SMS to them to get a playlist, but it does cost quite a lot, as SMSes go.

* * * * *

Hmm...I find it very ironic that the Federal Government seems to be more capable of sending National Guardsmen and army units to Louisiana and New Orleans, while people there are still dying for want of medicine, food and water. One wonders what they're thinking, to enforce law and order from the gun while people are literally starving and dangerously desperate. Bullets aren't going to feed the refugees, after all. A bit of ying2ren4er2jie3 seems to be in order. And if they actually begin to fire on Louisianians, then that would be disastrous on a whole new level.

It's rather shocking how easily Americans can be unhinged. One tends to think of them all as smug and complacent. But then something as momentous as Katrina happens, and you're reminded of the common human fear that unites us all. And, to be fair, most of the people stuck in New Orleans are poorer families, mostly black. Probably those who can afford to be smug and complacent had been able to evacuate before the storm arrived. But yeah...if anything, the tragedy reaffirmed the humanity of the Americans. Helped to erode their otherworldliness.

In a disturbing coincidence, hundreds died in Baghdad too, because of that stampede. A human storm to match the cataclysmic power of nature. The scenes of grief there are wrenching too, with people collapsed across coffins, a family crowded around not one but several simple wooden boxes, and the scene repeated as far as the eye can see. A city gripped by mourning. And yet, intermittently, one sees even more disturbing scenes: people who are dry-eyed. Those are the hardy ones, whose suffering and loss have been so great as to exceed any sense of human scale. They are positively transcendental, serene in their anguish. They took it and took it until all they had was this.

* * * * *

Bah, I'll be happier once the 12th comes. Then this tiresome studying will be put to good use. And the Cambridge applications will be going out beyond recall, and we can go back to worrying each other without the overt sense of political wrangling. Worrying without ulterior motives.

I wonder, if it were not for the twist of fate that put me in this strategic position, whether I would be so caught up with the maintenance of a semblance of fairness in this race. In the case that I actually will, I wonder if it is a good thing, or just a noble, suicidal and naive gesture. It is becoming really clear to me that fairness is a luxury, and when people's desire for something at any cost is married with the actual necessity of extreme measures, then all bets are off. It is important to remember all these lofty aspirations are highly conditional - I imagine that if circumstances were right, I would be able to justify being cutthroat too.

* * * * *

Well...a few happy things to report now. Silas Marner continues to be highly entertaining. Eliot's dry pastoral tone is really quite funny. And I find that, after doing Hardy, I'm able to interpret Eliot's language more easily, which really does facilitate the comprehension of her more complex ideas. Now that I reread it, everything seems to be in sharper shades of colour - Silas more pitiable, Dunsey more loathsome, Dolly more remarkable.

And finally I started redocumenting Gut Symmetries. Hopefully I'll be equipped to do the Lit S exam by Monday. Hehhehheh, Gut Symmetries is an excellent work! The starting is hilarious...her dry tone combines brilliantly with an impressive flurry of alliteration to great effect. Was doing it in the library, and sniggering away at every paragraph practically. Heh...it would be very odd if I started breaking out into giggles in the middle of the exam hall...but it's just that brilliant! And I find myself highlighting practically every other sentence, which raises the question of why I'm highlighting at all. But the book is just that rich...very much PC material. You'd be writing about her one paragraph for pages and pages.

Speaking of the library, it's rather surprising how many people go back to the school library to study. Met Kels and Soph and YS today there. And it's a rather pleasant environment, actually...for some reason they decided to turn down the aircon so the library isn't positively arctic. But it's so bleeding far away. Only went back today to renew library books, and to get the copy of Gut Symmetries from downtown, and because I desperately wanted a change in scenery.

* * * * *

Perhaps I was too hasty to regard that particular instance as unrenormalisable. As things have turned out, we've managed to slip into some sort of understanding that is not based on the extraordinary circumstances that founded our original sympathy. To my surprise, it does seem that that degree of comfort and sympathy and frankness and trust can actually be transplanted from one context into another, more sustainable, one. And it does seem that we can continue - it turns out that what we have is based not on circumstance but on something that transcends that. Or maybe it's just the trauma of relocation that has forced that transition to a higher plane to occur.

Hmm...such mystical and astrological language. I detect the influence of Winterson here =P

Pitstop

2005-09-01T20:33:00.000+08:00

Shucks. It reeks to feel guilty about being bored.

I think I've been sitting in front of the computer too much lately. Tried to start on the Heart of Darkness Quote Thematiser today, and was really bored, so bored I couldn't concentrate. And I'm beginning to question whether it's really feasible, since I'll end up quoting whole paragraphs. The book is very rich, good to PC, great for essay-writing, because the textual material lies thickly on the ground. But if you try to categorise every scrap of essay material, you'll end up with a set of notes longer than the book.

Started on Silas Marner today too. I didn't notice Eliot's rather dry humour the first time round. Was reading the first chapter, and it struck me as really funny, her seeming earnestness hiding wryness and even sarcasm at points. But she is still very compassionate, I think...at least I noticed that the first time round =P Rereading my old notes, and found them rather...innocent. Chern's right...looking back now at the book, I'm spotting whole new patterns, and appreciating it at a deeper level. After two years, we've picked up enough of Purvis's thought mode to be able to crack apart more of the book.

Ah well...nothing much more remarkable to report, really. Shall be off to do more Silas Marner. Or maybe I'll just relax. Had a nap this afternoon, and woke up with a splitting headache on the left side of my forehead. Initially I thought of those mini-strokes that Briony has in Atonement, but no such luck, apparently...it still twinges now and again, though. Maybe it's an eye thing...

Happy Teachers' Day

2005-08-31T21:30:00.000+08:00

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

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

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

2005-08-28T20:02:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-25T21:11:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-21T22:03:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-19T20:48:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-14T20:30:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-13T11:30:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-10T20:52:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-07T11:45:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-04T21:45:00.000+08:00

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.

Chern and Church

2005-07-31T22:03:00.000+08:00

Bah...I log into my freehost and find this huge red notice that says that the host is under hacker attack, and so my sites are inaccessible for the duration of the spamming. Oh well, at least I don't store my entries there. At least I can keep writing here. And wait out the storm. Some sick people just get high on the strangest things.

Anyway, this weekend's been dominated by church. In a surprising turn of events, Chern followed me to Sts Peter and Paul on Sat for the sunset mass, just to see what it was like. And this morning went to her Church of Singapore service, just to see what it was like. Hmm...after all that, I still think that there's nothing quite like a Catholic mass. It's grown too deeply in me to allow me to participate in a Christian service without being on my guard, I realised. But still...learning to keep an open mind.

Throughout this morning's thing, while they were praying for more souls to be saved, I was praying for an open mind. To be able to recognise God in all the forms that he is portrayed in by us humans. After all, at the heart of it, all Christians believe in the same thing; it's just the technicalities that get in the way.

The two types of celebration are extremely different, I realise. Firstly, Chern's thing took place at 8.30am, which is too early on a Sunday morning, if I may say so (human weakness overriding the promptings of divinity here) =P But yeah...it was more or less like a typical Christian celebration, a veritable rock band on stage, lots of charismatics, the sharing of bread and wine (categorically not the body and blood of Christ), and an evangelical thing at the end. Was most uncomfortable when the evangelical minister person was calling out for souls to be saved. The thing is, I'm already a convert, and yet when he was calling out, I had the distinct feeling that I was not meant to be there. As if everyone could tell I was not one of their denomination (which, now that I think back, my discomfiture would not have helped to cover up). There was a sense of a divide between the saved and the...well, everyone else. In a Catholic mass, anyone can sit in and no one would notice (in fact, most people would ignore each other, unfortunately), but in a Christian service, I always get a feeling that they're deliberately challenging me to prove my belief by stepping forward.

I figure that it's not on purpose...I mean, they don't intend to appear exclusive or divisive. Probably it's just that I'm not used to this kind of stuff. But it irritates me deeply when people try to evangelise me, especially on the street. And I remember last year's rather disturbing evangelical rally...seemed to me like everyone was being convinced to convert on the basis of the good music put up by the band. I have my doubts whether such mass conversions are really a good idea...people committing themselves on the spur of a moment, not knowing what they're getting into, and perhaps finding themselves unprepared to lead a truly Christian life (whatever that actually is).

On a point of principle, I don't think this is the way to become a Christian at all. Any type of Christian.

Ah well...but besides the evangelical bit the service was rather fun. Lots and lots of singing, though I was more or less silent cos there were all these new-fangled songs. And a real live band! My gosh, that church is swimming in money...the only other church I know has an electric guitar setup and a drum set is Holy Trinity, which, incidentally, is also very rich =P And I thought a Catholic mass was theatrical enough with the scripted rituals and elaborate costumes and setting and all that...well, this morning's service actually took place on a stage with a rather impressive tech setup...four light bars, monitor amps, a backstage, and I bet there's even a working curtain =P

Interestingly, though, the sermons of yesterday's and this morning's services actually coincided. Yesterday I was rather surprised to hear the father talking about the five loaves and two fish story à la Purvis's version - i.e. when the disciples distributed what little they had, everyone else also decided to share their food. So the miracle was the inspired generosity of the normal people, rather than a transformation carried out by Jesus. And then this morning five loaves and two fish appeared again, but as evidence of everything being possible in Jesus. Which is true enough. But it surprised me; I'd always thought that Christian churches would be more...rational, in a sense. Of course it's premature to judge...Catholic rituals probably seemed unbelievably archaic to Chern. But one thing that really stood out: I get the impression that Catholics place the emphasis on love in real life, while Protestants place the emphasis on conversion and the eternal life. I guess we concentrate on living life as a preparation for the ultimate objective, while they emphasise more on the absolute faith that there is an ultimate objective to go towards.

I realise I may be grievously wrong in this distinction. It seemed correct at that point in time...

To be sure, though, I think if there's one thing I want to take back from that service, it was the sense of community. When we were going into the church, there were plenty of people saying hello to Chern, and naturally asking who on earth I was. And the thing was yesterday, I was certain that no one would notice Chern in the church, and I was right. Hmm...perhaps it's because Sts Peter and Paul is really not my parish, and no one knows me there. And perhaps it's also because OLPS, which is my parish, is also the biggest one in Singapore, which does make it hard to develop a sense of community. But there was a genuine warmth in the Church of Singapore. You could tell that everyone knew everyone else...like a village. Like Raveloe, even.

Hmm...many things to think about now. I'm rather irritated with myself that I had to force myself to open up my viewpoints during the service this morning. Didn't realise that my religious views on what worship should be like were so...set in their ways. In effect I want to be able to appreciate God in whatever form of expression people put him in. But I think there are some things that are unchangeable. I will always prefer a good old Catholic mass, if only because it is reassuringly familiar. It never changes. And the notion that every week, you take part in a ceremony unchanged across territories, languages and time, that has linked and continues to link the corporeal with the eternal, is very empowering for me. It is something reliable that I can build on, these unchanging rituals.

Which is, of course, not to say that Catholicism is anti-reformist. In fact I think we're actually one of the more forward-thinking denominations of Christianity.

* * * * *

Anyway. After mass, went with Chern to visit her grandma, who lives in Bedok, which was a nice surprise. Actually it turns out that her family's rather familiar with the east side...the church itself was just opposite Parkway Parade. Heh, actually it did occur to me that it may be rather odd to just tag along for lunch with her family. But felt like trusting to the Lord, and anyway, nothing bad has ever happened before when I went out on a lark like this.

And nothing bad happened today either. Chern's grandma didn't in fact jump to conclusions about why I was tagging along, and Chern's aunt turns out to go to OLPS occasionally too. So now I have someone else to look out for. Heh, I must say she's quite a formidable character...I haven't met such a dedicated Catholic in a long time, to be sure. She's off to Kenya to do missionary work next. I take my hat off to her, and wish that I could go too...

So anyway, there we were, munching on frozen grapes and longans and reading homework stuff while Cheriel was rushing her tuition homework. Here I have to pause for a while, to lament the loss of my proficiency with Chinese. It wasn't very good to begin with, and now I realise that I can't even do a Sec 1 HCL worksheet anymore. Hai...I can still functionally communicate, and I guess it could be worse, but to think that we spent so much time learning all that vocab just so we could forget it over these two years...such a waste. Especially when in normal life I use so little of it that I don't even notice the fancy stuff dying away.

Her other sister is rather formidable too...MOE overseas scholar, studying in UK somewhere, I forget. Anyway, Cherlyn is like a glimpse into the future. She seemed rather harried actually, tired out even. I do hope that it's just a passing phase, this exhaustion...though judging from past teachers it doesn't seem to be the case (incidentally, who should I bump into on Sat evening at Suntec than my two fave teachers from good old CHS! Heh, I must say that they look substantially younger...perhaps cos Mr. Liew has quit his job at the old school...).

Went to Purvis Street for Hock Lum Beef Noodle, which was sublime. I gotta remember that place. And it's conveniently located just opposite the Central Library, which is all very conducive for my studying plans =P Hmm...interesting to watch the family, though. The antithesis of my own family, in that there are three girls rather than three boys. And for some reason age is inversely proportional to height (sorry Chern, but it's true...) =P I wonder if that's the main reason why they're much more vocal than us, the fact that there are three girls. Interesting, interesting.

Well, was a very enjoyable morning and lunch, all things considered. Much better than staying at home typing out econs notes, though eventually I still have to get around to finishing them. They are very warm-hearted folk, welcoming, hospitable. They must meet my family. Maybe we'll actually turn out to be related in some distant fashion =P The Neos and the Leongs. Has the makings of a Hong Kong soap opera...

The only thing was that I didn't manage to thank them properly (at this point I receive an SMS from Sots that says "thanks" - wholly unrelated issue, of course, but the coincidence is surprising...). Bah...it's the old preference of expressing gratitude in kind rather than in words. But the thing is that there's no telling when the opportunity would arise for a return of the courtesy. And in the meantime the moment has passed, leaving loose ends dangling. Well, I guess I can start here. Thanks muchly for the great time, guys! =)

Silence and Bread

2005-07-29T23:21:00.000+08:00

Hmm...now that all that angst is out of the system. Had a fantastic four-hour outing with Ian, Chern and Mel today, ostensibly to go to Cedele to have lunch, but stopping over at all the shops in Citylink on the way over there. There's a pretty cool shop called teà that sells thematised fashion accessories. Basically you have a standard design of a range of accessories from handbags to phoneholders, and different prints on them. And all of it is arranged in thematic batches, which gives the whole stall a rather intriguing visual congruency. And they haev little placards detailing the designs of the accessories. Kind of like a fashion Ikea with those little tags with line drawings of what the product would look like when assembled.

But yeah...Cedele rules! Hehheh, it's a really happy sight, at the end of a hectic week, to see four steaming bowls of soup, a platter of flavoured olive oil, pieces of herb butter and a mound of different types of bread. The smells themselves are food for the soul, really. There's just something about the scent of fresh bread that makes the heart quicken.

I remember when I was young, I was fascinated with the words "piece" and "bread". Somehow these two words caught my imagination. In some obscure way, the sound of the word "piece" has always abstractly struck me as the perfect sound to describe a part of a larger whole. The i seems to divide the word itself into two parts. And of course there's the ironic aural connection with "peace", which has its connotation of unity. And "bread"...I really don't know. Somehow that word has always been related to rick, appetising, full smells of a bakery for me. Must be a link established in early childhood. My mum went to Switzerland when she was pregnant with me. Maybe she spent quite a lot of time in a boulangerie =P

Okay...enough with the psychoanalysis. There was a sense of completeness, of fulness and safety, when we were tucking into the meal. Simple fare, to be sure, but wholesome and fulfilling in the way that only simple things can be. Nearly silence, because all of us were too busy eating to spare time for small talk. Only the tearing of bread, dipping, extending to another's bowl in silent enquiry, and the eager nod in response. There was something in such silent and communal communication that made me really happy. Like through the bread and the soup, we had a real link, more accurate than language, more frank than written words.

Ah well. I think I'm romanticising it too much. But if I find myself on a roadside bistro next year, I think I will think back to our Friday jaunts to the Suntec Cedele, and the fulfilling smells, and the breaking of this bread, this secular communion.

* * * * *

Word of the Day: ethereality. Made that one up for Thong's hundred-word thing, and it struck me as a rather ironic lexical corruption, à la Virginia Woolf.

Achievements

2005-07-29T22:40:00.000+08:00

For the Record:
Achieved Score (Pass Mark)
2.4km run - 12.25 (12.30)
Pull-ups - 5 (5)
Sit-ups - 40 (34)
Jump - 232 (222)
Reach - 40 (can't remember)
Run - 9.7 (can't remember)

But the point is, I made it! =D Was rather surprised with the run, I had no idea I could do that time. The 2.4 was really too close for comfort, because I mistook the passing time, and anyway was already rather exhausted after the five stations. The jump was a great relief, considering that my performance for that is always rather inconsistent. At any rate, however, that's a silver award, which is good enough for me =P

Now that I've redeemed all the remaining PE lessons, and the delicious 3 months off NS, it seems rather ludicrous to have so much time rely on this one test. That is a heck load of time that has been liberated. I remember thinking during the run that I have to pass it no matter what, after having come so far. So although I was running progressively slower, I discovered to my surprise that my last round was actually quite fast, which is wholly out of my usual style. Heh, must have been the thought of all that time at stake. High risk led to the needed adrenaline I guess. Failure would have been such a ridiculous letdown.

In other news, got back Lit S today, to my utmost surprise I'd gotten marks wholly out of my expectations. I'm still not sure what I did right. Was actually thinking that my writing was very self-indulgent, what with all those postmodernist notions about reality. Apparently it struck a chord. I'm thinking right now that it's because Purvis hasn't read the books yet, and so he has to take our word for what we've read. And that my indulgent philosophical tract was supported enough by the textual evidence (which, to be sure, was rather conveniently helpful - I personally agree wholly with McEwan and Winterson's take on reality). And, I suspect, because the reader was amenable to such persuasion. I mean, it's very hard to appeal to someone with postmodernist ideas if they don't already have a leaning towards them. I wouldn't be so arrogant as to assume that Purvis agrees with what I say unconditionally, but I do suspect that it struck a chord. Which adds a random element to the whole essay-writing operation.

It may have been by sheer chance that what I said coincided with what he was predisposed to read. I don't know how much of a role that played. I do hope it's not a major role, because if it is, then it makes things really risky. Of course subjectivity is unavoidable, but it is minimisable. At this point, I'd like to believe that Purvis's subjectivity is minimised, but I don't think it's a good idea to rely on it. At least in normal lit. In Lit S, I think the fact that we know our own books better than he does, does add to the leeway with which we can manipulate the textual evidence to make it say what we want it to say. This is well nigh impossible with like Return of the Native, because Purvis already has a good idea of what Hardy is trying to say, and thus in his estimation, some standpoints are less tenable than others on such a complete appreciation of the textual evidence supplied.

Now that I reread that paragraph, that sounds very presumptious on my part. How to make it sound unantagonistic, and yet retain the clarity? I don't have that skill with the language to fine-tune it so precisely. And I do think that this subjectivity problem is not insurmountable. But still, I think that it's there. How important it is in relation to other factors, I really am not sure. This ambiguity adds risk to every essay, therefore. And I guess it adds to the exhilaration of the whole endeavour, in its own perverse way...

You know, I do find it hard to discuss this kind of thing. When you do well, it is immediately bad form to run an analysis of your own work. But the thing is, doing well is not enough; you need to know how you did it, otherwise there's no guarantee that it can be reproduced. But on the other hand, the nature of the game is that you are not entitled to feel insecure when you do well. It's a rather tiresome maneouvre, having to walk the tightrope that is balanced between pride and self-denial, both of which everyone else expects you to display in a suitable balance. I gues it is well and good to be proud of what you've done, inadvertently or not, but aren't we all over-reacting? The marks themselves have to be put into perspective, and then it's easy to see how little they matter.

Of course, it had occured to me that perhaps the party that is over-reacting is myself. In expecting everyone else to expect me to act in a certain way, it's a sort of causative loop that creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. If that is so, then the rabbit hole goes deeper than I'd appreciated, and I'm actually being rather arrogant in imposing my own expectations on others. But down that path lies a vicious cycle that I don't think actually exists. But I have to be careful, to distinguish between teasing and jokes and actual inconvenient admiration.

I remember now why I'd put "adulation" under one of my dislikes on the old opendiary.

I also remember now that I have a serious problem dealing with praise. Over a certain threshold, I don't know what to do with it. Criticism also has a similar effect, though after so many experiences of it (criticisms are naturally more numerous than compliments) I think I've learned to counter it with a combination of self-depreciation, rationalisation and good old ignoring the adversary. Not very elegant, but it's the best I've managed. And that is the foremost method too to deal with praise. Except that when your target expects you to use such tactics, then what do you do?

Bleah...some people say that I don't say thanks enough. They're probably right. But I always thought that such words are cheap, easily thrown around and thus deprived of their connoted weight of meaning. Personally I'd rather repay the debt some other way, in some concrete fashion. And anyway, how many ways can you say "thank you" before you sound repetitive and idiotic? Except that they're right, it makes people happy to hear a "thank you". Why, then, do I still not offer such verbal gratitude? After all, Mussolini would agree that even symbolic gestures carry meaning...

Universities

2005-07-27T21:44:00.000+08:00

If it had to be anybody, it would have been you.

Cryptic comment of the month.

* * * * *

Had a very hilarious talk on filling in the UCAS form personal statement today in school, given by this lady from Warwick University, Ms. Pack. Hehheh, it's amazing what some people put in their personal statements. The last one that she showed us, part of an application to study psychology, was some kind of stream-of-consciousness composition. I remember Oscar Wilde mentioned. And kilts, for some strange reason =P It would have made a credible amateur poem in another context, I think. Heh, we were saying that he would have gotten in on the merit of his personal statement...as a test subject for the course =P

Anyway, I wonder what I shall put on that part of the form. The trouble with things like this is that they tend to end up so saccharine and sugary, or otherwise the glare of introspection and self-belittling is embarrassing to read. It'd probably be the most important thing I'd ever written. Probably I'd pay more attention to it than when I normally write short stories. Hmm...I really can't think of anything academic that I'd done so far to show my interest in modern languages and culture. Except for the exchange programmes and French classes, I can't think of anything else really that would set me apart.

I guess in my mind's eye I was banking on the exhange programmes to show my interest. At the point in time when I took them up, it was the interest in another culture that was the most alluring. And to be sure, it's always the contact point with the local people over there that's the most interesting part of the trip. But then it's not exactly academically rigorous, and anyway, if I try to make it sound too big, I imagine that it'd sound rather wishy-washy. How to demonstrate an interest in culture without it seeming too contrived, and also without it seeming like just a hobby of mine?

Hmm...and anyway, gotta think again about what I want to do. Well, I still want very much to do MLC, but then Saturday's MOE scholarship talk pointed something out, something very obvious that I was smacking myself for not realising sooner. The scholarship boards will not sponsor you to do anything you like. It's their money, so you'd better study something that's useful to them. The problem with MLC is that MOE has no need for culture specialists, so they're likely not to offer me a scholarship to do some strange combined degree like MLC.

The other options that seemed most attractive to me after that scholarship talk were history and literature. Talked to a lit student from UCL under the MOE OMS programme, and she made it sound really fun. And for one afternoon, I seriously considered doing lit in UCL. But then on the train back was discussing with Yiting and Baoen, and we came to the conclusion that if lit in uni were like lit in JC, then perhaps it'd be better to forego it. To be sure, it's a strange state of affairs...lit in JC has widened my appreciation for lit, while at the same time eroding seriously my passion for doing it. I mean, I still love the subject, I still love reading the books, but to do it as a formal academic course is a whole new can of worms entirely. And perused the UCL prospectus again for lit, and the programme doesn't seem to be overly enticing. They're not putting much emphasis on modern lit, which is my personal favourite...

As for history, it actually is quite interesting, the programme offered at UCL. I can see myself studying history, and actually liking it, but not in the way that I like lit. I know I can do history, but it's just that history doesn't offer much in the way of Eureka moments, unlike lit, where flashes of insight are almost always the oder of the day, if you're to move forward in your reading of a text. Nevertheless, they have an interesting programme...History with a Year Abroad, in which you can go to US in your third year to do studies there. Interesting...a history exchange programme. Heh, I guess it's not too far away from a cultural immersion.

Of course, those options are if I decide to take the MOE scholarship. To be sure, the MLC boat is not wholly sunk yet. Haven't checked up on the other scholarships, and from what Chern says, people like Firefly give scholarships for the strangest subjects. And the PSC scholarships are far more flexible...the only trouble being that there are only 50 of them every year. Must do some research into MFA's programmes...if they offer any scholarships, then it's more likely that they'd be amenable to MLC.

Hmm...Ms. Pack raised an interesting question in the talk, on whether it'd be nicer to live in a city rather than the countryside. Me, I'd rather have a city, really. More life, more options, more conveniences. The only problem with London is that it may be a bit too big a city. I'd like to have a Lyon-type city, not too small, and not overwhelmingly big either. For that, Oxbridge, Birmingham and even Warwick sound like just the ticket. And I thought that I wouldn't go to Oxbridge...but now that I'm going to have to consider alternatives to MLC, maybe it'd be worthwhile to look again.

Bleah...was complaining that it was a nice feeling of certainty when it lasted. There is a certain satisfaction in being able to answer with precision the question of what I'd like to do next year. Apply to UCL for MLC, eventually major in French, and take the PSC-MOE scholarship and come back and be a teacher, with perhaps a stint in MFA too. Well, it seems like I overlooked a fatal flaw in that particular plan. But yeah...while the illusion lasted, it was one less weight to worry about. Ah well...shall have to rethink some things. And next week will be full of all this uni stuff, which I'm hoping will help.

* * * * *

What to do? I'm being pulled in too many directions at once, and I find that my time is at a premium now. The easiest thing to do, of course, is to just stick with the one that's closest. But when you have interests in people, it's muchly different from having interests in events. I find it much harder to prioritise people, because I can't forget that they're likely to care about how I treat them. But there's only so little time, and there's the nagging feeling that no matter how much I allocate to any one person, it wouldn't be enough. Arh...many people to support these days, especially as the heat is on for the prelims. And I feel that I can't disengage now. No matter what happens, I have to stand by some people.

It was a favourite question of ours back in last semester, whether it's better to be wanted or to be needed. Well, I guess the point really is moot in the practical world. Either way, there are obligations to keep, expectations to live up to. Unavoidable, I guess. But even if it's hard, some part of me still wants to do it. And for the sake of that part, and even for the sake of others, if I may be so bold, I will do everything in my power to stand by everyone's side.

Spaceship

2005-07-26T22:53:00.000+08:00

When that thing blasted off and started rising from its launchpad, I had the strangest feeling of incredulity. To think something that big and cumbersome, with its bulbous attachments clumsily stiff wings, could even move, let alone soar, suddenly struck me as rather absurd. The design of the ship was only functional - a simple, toylike shape with fuel and power lego-ed onto the underside. An unlikely amalgamation of brute force and ingenuity - and yet it was really rising on its blast wave. Maybe what made it fly was some supernatural power. After all, God appeared to rebellious Israel as a column of cloud and fire.

The ship soon diminished to just a fuzzy dirty-white dot against a serene blue background. You couldn't even tell that the indefinite shape was a ship. And yet, the tension and exhilaration deepened, as everyone's attention was focused on an increasingly diminished area. There was a childish fascination with this star glowing in daylight and soaring against the clear sky. And then you remember that the star is actually manmade.

The launch coverage ended with the view from the camera stuck onto the external fuel tank. Now and then the image broke up into static, and those were heartstopping moments, because whe controlling something as unlikely and unwieldly as the ship, no one wanted to lose sight of it, even for a second. If anything were to go wrong, being able to see it happen offers a sense of security in itself, even if the problem eventually proves insoluble. Visual vindication, to some extent. And then finally the tank was dumped - but what you saw on screen was the glazed and blackened underbelly of the ship lifting serenely off the orange hull of the tank, as if it were a second launch. And then it slowly glided forward, the black underbelly sliding past, and as it flew further and further away, the looming black bulk began to take on the recognisable silhouette of our only true spaceship. It was a serene sight. A hopeful sight.

* * * * *

A short post on the launch of the space shuttle Discovery. The first time I'd seen one happening live, and it's a different kind of thrill. Heh, indulge in a bit of childish fascination and excitement now and again, it's refreshing!

Today and Yesterdays

2005-07-26T21:55:00.000+08:00

Putting together little somethings for my correspondents. Conveniently enough Thong's brother has a Bordelais correspondent, so I shall send along a package with him on its way to Florent. Free air mail, as it were. As for the Taiwanese, shall have to fire off the packages in the next few days, if they are to reach in time for National Day. Hmm...over the last few days been buffeted with the old yearning for going abroad again. Or rather, nostalgia for the exchange programmes. I do hope that all this will not end here. I want to go on another exchange again. And to a large extent I'm hoping that university would be like a three-year long immersion. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that that was a large draw and motivation for me.

Purvis passingly mentioned Lit S today. I must say I was rather surprised that my postmodernist rant went down so well with him. Heh, if anything, I'd have expected him to be the last person to want to entertain my kind of views about reality. And like I'd said, I thought I didn't do well for Lit S, because I did it with the same mindset that I used in normal lit. Perhaps there is the problem, that my style is unsuitable for normal lit. I'd been hoping that that was not the case, because inappropriate style is harder to correct than misread content. Ah well...will withhold further judgment until I get the papers back, and I can figure out exactly what happened.

Overall Purvis was nicer today, I think. Don't really know why. Maybe it's the fact that he's finished with the marking, and doesn't feel that stressed anymore. Heh, but anyway, it's nice to see him this way. It's easier to adapt to him, to tolerate him, even. Gave me time to think a bit about the nature of his character's influence on us. Particularly why every time he praises anyone there is this whooshing sensation in my gut. I always try to suppress it because I think it's just a distraction, and anyway sustained praise tends to turn saccharine very easily. I'd like to think that it's just my discomfort with verbal compliments in general (they're nice, but easy to give, like cotton candy or sth liddat), but I can't ignore the element of jealousy. It's a normal reaction, I realise, but I still don't like the sensation. Of course, jealousy isn't inherently bad, I guess. Depends on what you do with it.

Anyway...like I promised, shall touch on Grace and JC studying at my place on Sun. Heh, I really don't know what to do when in such situations. Normally I'd try to ignore the fact that a couple was attached, and treat them like normal people. Heaven knows they get enough deferential behaviour in normal life, and it must be rather uncomfortable to put up with it all the time. But on Sunday I had a work schedule to keep, so I just let them get on with whatever they wanted to do.

I realise I may sound disapproving, but really I don't bear them any ill-will. They weren't a distraction; heck, Marcus was noisier than them downstairs. And anyway, I am in no position to lecture anyone. It's just an interesting situation, you see. I wonder what it's like to be in a position like that. The pervasive notion was that they were in a world of their own, a separate plane of existence that they carried around with them, an alternative reality that they can deploy around them anywhere. Somehow they were unapproachable and safe within a sort of aura (okay, they weren't in splendid isolation, it's just that at that point in time I didn't feel inclined to upset that particular equilibrium). Maybe it's a kind of security that you derive from holding a piece of secret knowledge. Or perhaps they were retreating into the safe haven of a familiar presence, a familiar scenario, the two of them together.

I don't know what to make of it, as an outsider. Things like this are so inscrutible from the outside. And anyway, I was doing work.

On to other things...the new National Library! It's a splendid building, an architectural marvel, I think. Well...actually, judging from the floor plan, it's just a rectangular block attached to a neighbouring column containing the lifts and escalators, embellished heavily with sunscreens and dramatic suspended walkways. Some architects would call that dishonest architecture, because you hide what is essentially a functional and simple shape behind an elaborate facade. Me, I'm not that much of an architectural puritan, and anyway, such two-facedness does serve to...personify the building a bit.

But imagine this...seven floors of reference material, with the top floor of the reference library containing a dramatically high ceiling, shelves three storeys high, subdued lights and a breathtaking view of the surrounding city, all the way to Newton on one side and Outram on the other. The whole building is bold and grand, designed to impress. Every level has a tall ceiling so each floor in the library is as high as one and a half HDB storeys, around there. But the stunning architecture aside, the wealth of reference material there is downright delicious! History galore, intriguing economics stuff, and shelves upon shelves of archival Singapore Government material. Was wandering through the geog section with Yiting the other day, and all those travelogues were irresistible. Heh, with so much material and such a cool reading environment, I'll look forward to every excuse to go to the new library. I daresay I'll even look forward to every subsequent essay =)

Hmm...wanted to talk about the MOE scholarships talk too, but running out of time. I want to watch the shuttle launch on BBC =P

Anyway, a last note. Ran into Jes and Pui Man, which were nice surprises. Always refreshing...they remind me of the life that exists outside of Humans. It's good to have such friends outside of your normal life, so you can put things in perspective. And also, in the class, was rather pleased with becoming closer friends with Thong. Heh, that guy is one intriguing character, I have to say. Don't know where the original impetus for this particular friendship came from. I guess we complement each other well, the wide-eyed philantropic idealist and the fatalistic cynic, to stretch the comparison to breaking point. It's great to have someone easily accessible to chat with in between lessons. And after lessons, too. His character is just too compelling. Heh, maybe a part of me thinks that I could have been him, in some ways. Like in Conrad, what's so compelling about a new race is not their strangeness, but the lingering impression of familiarity.

Aaaanyway, yes...friends, old and new. Heh, you could say that these people are my own refuges of familiarity - and in some ways they seem to me all the more compelling, because they exist in spite of the lack of a declared commitment. Some things are just known, I guess, and words are only embellishments. Shan't belabour the point anymore, but it was a good day today for these nice little touches.

Trips

2005-07-24T21:59:00.000+08:00

Just saw off my mum at the airport. She's going to hop around some educational seminars in Europe, that lucky girl. In just over an hour's time she'll start that 13h flight to London, then transit to Zurich, and then back to London to transit to Glasgow, and back to London before arriving back on the 10th. ARH I'd love to be on a trip like this, sponsored on the Government's tab. Yes, I know it's all taxpayers' money and all that, but the questionable utility aside, an European tour like that! At a time like this! So you see, when you're the one actually receiving the perks, it's rather harder to say that civil servants don't deserve so much pay...

Well, it'll definitely be good weather over there, I think. Sadly, with all that hullabaloo about a second screwed up wave of bombings, London has been on the BBC alot lately, and the weather over there looks really fine. It certainly undermines the sense of security, I guess. London only escaped by a lucky break. Once again the fact is underlined that there is quite little that you can do to prevent something like this. The best way of self-defence may well be the development of apathy, so the survivors can carry on as per normal.

And to shoot the wrong person...from the looks of things he had it coming to him, running away from the police at a time like this. But still...terrorists kill innocent people too, except perhaps with less discrimination, to be sure.

Anyway, London will have a new interest for me for the time being.

Just now at the airport again seized by the all-too-familiar feeling of sentimentality washing over me. The control tower at night, a staff of incandescent power rising upwards and crowned with haloes of red and blue. I realise now that it's a childish fascination at heart, my fascination with travelling. To call a business or educational trip an "adventure" is not entirely inaccurate, but it does romanticise the whole affair a lot. And then thinking that there are only very few people that I would trust to travel with me on those expeditions...

Mum hasn't been gone on a business trip since I was in Sec 4, if I don't remember wrongly. And I haven't gone abroad with my family since Sec 4 too. By some strange turn of events I've gone more places on school trips than on family trips. Is that supposed to be the way things are supposed to be? Ah well. I do hope that she enjoy herself, at any rate. Waiting eagerly to get the digicam back, with its precious cargo...

* * * * *

Went to watch Dischordant, this RJC acapella group, at the Arts House yesterday with the Chorale people. Had quite a lot of trouble getting there cos of the NDP rehearsals, and all the roads were blocked up. I intended to take a luxurious stroll along City Hall and the Supreme Court, but when I exited the MRT station I found myself face to face with an armoured column. It was only when the choppers thumped overhead with the Singapore flag that I remembered. Spent a good thirty minutes traipsing along the cordons trying to find a way to cross the river, and in the end had to take the train to Raffles Place.

I couldn't resist standing and watching for a bit, even though I was risking lateness. And as I watched the choppers thudding overhead, and then the tanks revving their engines, and then the jets roaring past with the shockwave reverberating off the pavement, and then the unseen artillery thumping in the distance, it occured to me that fighting a battle in the city would be a very fearsome prospect. The sounds of battle would echo throughout the streets. Our airspace would only be big enough for one air battle at a time. And everywhere, the sound of artillery would be unavoidable. An urban battle in Singapore would be a harrowing, inescapable aural experience.

Anyway...besides such gloomy reflections, it occured to me that this year would be the first year since Sec 3 that I'd be celebrating National Day without someone to host. Florent in 2002, Hong Kong relatives in 2003, and Young and Co and the Frexprog II people last year (of which OD happily swallowed up all traces that I logged there), and this year...no one. It feels like there's something missing. I guess I could make contact with the exchange students that are here. Orly, for example, is terribly lucky. She was in Lyon with me, and this year she's going to Bordeaux, if I'm not wrong. Bumped into the French students on Racial Harmony Day, all racially harmonious in their Chinese getup. But I guess it'd be too obsessive to chase a connection like that. But all the same...at this time of year, I do feel at a loss, adrift, almost, waiting for someone to introduce Singapore to. I really do miss the exchange experience.

Right...anyway, finally arrived at Arts House and with a bit of time to spare, too. I must say that the Arts House is the coolest arts venue that I've ever seen in Singapore. The old Parliament chamber has been transformed into a theatre of sorts, so where the MPs and the press once sat, now the audience sits. And the speaker's stand and the president's seat and all that paraphenalia has been replaced with a stage. And a really nice touch was that they left the placenames on the seats, so I was sitting in a seat allocated to TCS News, while Sara Ho was downstairs in the parliamentarians' section sitting next to Lee Kuan Yew's old seat =P Whoever had the idea of such a transformation was quite a genius.

The performance itself ruled. Fantastic stuff. Even I, not a die-hard acapella fan, cannot but take my hat off to them. Their renditions of Change the World by Eric Clapton, This Much is True by Spandau Ballet and With or Without You by U2 were extremely memorable. Chern was saying that one of their Sun Yan Zi songs was CD quality, which I had to agree with. And they even featured Good Riddance by Green Day with acoustic guitar accompaniment! That guy is really multitalented, what with being Chorale's old student conductor, the arranger for the acapella group and also not a bad guitarist to boot. Oh, and their Perfect Day was just positively sublime. Had half a mind to stand up and cheer along too =P

Hehheh, they were really thick-skinned, though, "hint-hint"ing throughout the second half. I personally think that they didn't need to hint at all. And I think they knew that too, so I take their shameless hinting as a self-depreciatory joke =P But seriously, they were very good stuff yesterday. And to think that they actually loved their group so much that they would go through all that trouble of booking the Arts House, rehearsing and setting up this finale performance (they will have to break up to go to uni and NS). I wonder if Fruits and Veggies will end up like that. Hehheh, I wonder if anyone would be able to survive two hours of our kind of songs. But we rely on shock effect to be entertaining. Ah well...Fruits and Veggies has already lasted longer than I expected. Who knows, eh?

After that, was strolling down along the road in front of the Supreme Court on the way back to City Hall. After the NDP rehearsal, the roads were totally empty, the stands silent and devoid of people, the floodlights turned down and shadowy, and confetti littering the streets. The quiet and darkened arena was still festooned with the national colours, the banners and decorations that show how prosperous this little island has become. And strangely enough, in the quiet Padang last night, I suddenly felt that old pride in Singapore again. In the middle of the silence, I felt that I belonged right there, more than usual anyway. It always happens near National Day, this resurgence of nationalism. Sure, it's all propaganda and cliche, but somehow that doesn't stop me from being irrationally proud of being a Singaporean. Having people to host helps too...when there are foreigners here, you feel additionally proud when they are wowed by the showcase. Their sincere admiration always sparks off my own enthusiasm. But without them, I was rather surprised last night to feel that familiar warm glow spreading again, under the red and white banners. I guess I still am rather naive in this way. Either that, or the propagandists who decorated the Padang really knew what they were doing. The way that it's done up now, how can you walk past it without feeling patriotic?

* * * * *

Want to write more...about Friday's trip to Bras Basah, then Saturday's scholarship talk at MOE HQ, and the sublime and wonderful new National Library, and Grace and Jiachuan coming over today to study. But it's getting rather late already. Ah well...keep all that to tomorrow then. Till then...

Past Few Days

2005-07-20T21:30:00.000+08:00

Finished HP6. Mmm...as the book approached the end, wanted to slow down, because there was the awareness that when I read the last page, there would be a heck of a long wait more till the next instalment. But as it turned out, I didn't manage to keep myself innocent about the ending. Six hours before I read the twist myself, I accidentally overheard it in school =S Really, walking around in the corridors can be quite hazardous. I have to say that the shock of the twist was undoubtedly compromised, though I did try for a while to fool myself that I didn't hear anything, and then to fool myself that the disappointment I was feeling was actually the sadness of the story itself (and the story is rather sad), and then in the end I gave up trying to scrabble for my innocence back. The mind is a strange thing indeed.

Hmm...but for the consideration of others, I shall not comment too much on the book yet. I imagine it must be a great shock to discover the twist yourself. Which was why I was trying to read the book so fast...but apparently not fast enough. Oh well. The book wasn't as good as HP5, I think. Some interesting insights into the magical world, but I thought that this time round Rowling was more concerned with the character development rather than building up our impression of the wizarding society. Clearly the book was meant for the fans. Which is not a bad thing. But I think she is running out of steam.

It's interesting, this HP phenomenon. It's a rare book (or series) that can engender a whole following, a sub-culture even. The HP books are the core of a whole community of fans who add their own insights to the pool of fan fiction. In a way this does help to make the wizarding world more authentic, as it begins to develop along recognisably sociological lines due to the input of so many different people. HP thus becomes more than just a fictional experience. And it happens to be a good read too, kept me on my toes for five days and nights =P Haevn't had that much fun reading in a long time. Well, not since I finished the Lit S books at any rate. And Rowling is commendable, in that she has managed to write a book that kids actually want to read in this day and age =P

Speaking of lit...got back lit results today, and it's not too bad. 67 gives a solid B, but of course, it hardly feels as good as getting an A for that subject. Congratulations to Bao on her spectacular performance, and of course, to good old Kels who once again delivers the goods, and Jon for writing that is clearly out of my league =P Me, I did well on Frost, surprisingly. As expected, it was Hardy that pulled me down. But it is strange...the paper that Purvis doesn't mark always pulls me up. It may very well be that the novels are harder texts to handle. To be sure, I'm rather discouraged by how little difference all that quote memorisation made...

From what I can tell it's not a stylistic problem but a content one, which is a bit of a relief. So it's just that I'm reading the wrong things into the passage, rather than expressing them wrongly, which would return me back to square one with a methodical problem. I guess the way to remedy that is to look at the book more closely. But then again, I can't help but have the feeling that I have to read it Purvis's way to get the marks. Even if I don't agree with him. It may be that neither of us has the "right" answer. But to be frank, he's the one giving the marks, he's the one with the power, so it makes sense for me to agree with him. Which creates a problem in that it's against my...I guess you could call them principles =P

And it would help if he didn't say it was "disappointing". Well, it's not that I'm overly devastated by that remark. Afetr so long, one learns not to take him seriously at all when it comes to matters like this. I guess in a warped way I have to learn to take it, because he keeps doing it, which seems to signal that he thinks that I can take it. But nevertheless, it would be nice not to have him picking on my sense of humour. Am I really that un-funny? Heh, from where I'm standing, any funnier and I'd be a slapstick comedian.

Okay...exaggeration for effect, but you get the idea =P

Nevermind, it all relies on a sense of perspective in the end. Right now I have more important things to worry about than one word carelessly thrown out in class.

There was an Oxford guy down to talk to us about Oxford and PPE on Tue. Oxford seems like a really nice place, exciting and congenial. But unfortunately I don't see anything I'd like to take there. PPE doesn't sound half bad, but I don't like any of the components of PPE at all, just the approach they take to teaching and assessment. But there are enough people intending to end up there, to be sure, judging from the attendance for the talk.

There's always been that tension, between what I want to do and where people want me to go. Again, people like Purvis saying taht I'd fit in well in Oxford or Cambridge. The notion was always whether or not I should go there merely by the virtue of my being able to go there. But increasingly I'm seeing that as rather daft. My not going there would be a Pareto improvement. And anyway, it's not so much a lack of ambition as it is another type of ambition entirely. I'm just not interested in PPE, and not qualified for their language and culture courses. I have to say that the prestige factor is of course attractive, and yet...I don't think I'll force myself to go there. That just seems inexcusably stupid to me, increasingly.

So if things continue this way, I'll be by the sidelines wishing well to all those applying to Oxford and Cambridge =P Anyway, if I get into UCL, at least we'd be in the same country.

HP6

2005-07-16T22:57:00.000+08:00

I have not felt so exhilarated since...well, since Taiwan, really. I now have Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince by my side, and it's a really cool feeling to have such a solid tome enclosed in your arms =) The title's a bit cheesy, at first impression, but it looks like the new HP book will provide weeks of fulfilling reading. And judging from how long it took to get this book out, I think I'll just savour every single word of it. To make it last, you know...

It's really quite a childish feeling, to get excited over this chunky storybook. I guess partly it's becuse HP really does appeal to my child-self, or whatever that alter-ego is called in psychiatric parlance. It appeal is remarkably fundamental. But the excitement was also due to watching BBC, which was showing the midnight opening of the London bookshops to cater to all the HP fans lining up to get the new book. Heh, if you think I'm off my rocker, you should see some of the lengths the Brit children go to =P And I guess it's also because this is the first brand new storybook I've bought since Oranges. The smell of the paper, woody and thick, is the best smell on the planet, I swear! In this instance, to make such solid and fragrant paper, I think sacrificing some trees was justified =P

Well then...shan't linger here too long. Been careful to clear all my work so I can peacefully dive into the book tonight and all day tomorrow. Been saving the book till I can get into bed, turn on the little reading lamp, recline and properly beginning. Heh, it occurs to me that I don't even read the Bible with such enthusiasm...and neither did I do so with the Lit S texts. Well, not with the same stomach-churning, delirious anticipation-type of enthusiasm at any rate. Was telling Kels that if Rowling's style has improved, maybe it'd be fun to do it for Lit S. I think I'll bring a HP book into the exam just for the heck of it =)

Okays, so I'll be off to read the new HP book now! I promise I shall not deliver any spoilers on this blog. Oh, and if anyone asks what the heck I put up on waystation today, it was something inspired by an anime show I'm watching now, Last Exile, whose love scenes are cloyingly sweet. My instinctual reaction was disgust, but after that, it turns out that the love portrayed in the anime isn't altogether sentimental crap =P And was trying to come up with something on the theme of love which fitted within 100 words. The results - a very fragmented prose piece with no plot, more like a persuasive essay with extended examples. Enjoy! Or even better, go get your own copy of HP6 and enjoy that! =D

Bleeding

2005-07-14T21:08:00.000+08:00

The new post counter thing on the Blogger Dashboard shows that the last post was the eighty-eighth one. How auspicious =)

And to be sure today has been fun. Main highlight: donated blood for the first time. It is actually far less painful than having a tooth extracted, indeed, less painful than that pricking thing that they do to get blood to test for haemoglobin. The doctor was a nice chap, rather kindly explaining what I needed to know about the process, and the anaesthetic was really effective. That was the biggest needle I'd ever seen, and it went in like a fork into a cheesecake. Yep, dehumanising the process (or psychic distancing) helps =P

The male nurse was quite nice too. Was making jokes with him when he gave me the "crucial things you need to know about blood donation" pamphlet, Chinese version =P And then...

HE: Inform us immediately if you're dizzy or lightheaded.

ME: If I'm unresponsive, feel free to help me anyway.

It must be the prospect of sustained bleeding, impairing my sense of judgment =P And then the doctor came back to check on this other girl in the next seat.

HE: You need to keep squeezing the ball. Your blood has stopped flowing.

SHE: *flabbergasted* How will squeezing the ball help?

HE: It shifts the blood around (or something like that, it was in medical parlance), we just need to get the blood out of the arm.

SHE: Then there's internal bleeding?!

HE: No, no, no internal bleeding. The blood flow just stopped.

I was tempted to give a running commentary about the state of the blood flow, but the doctor had told me to keep my head on the bed. So there I was, grinning like an idiot at everything that moved, happily squeezing that blue ball and bleeding away serenely, and trying my best not to sneeze because I thought that the sudden movement would dislodge the needle and send blood squirting like the incandescent plumes of the Musical Fountain.

Like many other things, the biggest challenge is psychological. Seeing those needles lying all over the place with the knowledge that soon they'll be sticking into you does create much fear in me. I guess that's my illogical phobia, the fear of needles. Or the fear of stabbing, as the case may be. But surprisingly enough, the propaganda posters they set up in school were true; the most painful part was the prick for the haemoglobin test. And there's the feeling that you're doing something noble, somehow touching someone else's life, many other people's lives. Maybe there's a touch of ego too, the notion that fluid from your own body will be flowing in the body of another. Bodily imperialism, and an anonymous intimacy. Us sharing our blood with strangers. Our blood flowing in others' veins. Blood is thicker than water, and so on.

I can't say yet that I'm over my fear of needles...but that was much better than what I actually thought, frankly. Heh, and having the repeat donors Ben Woon and Yongge for company did help lots, I think =P They do have the niftiest ways of breaking tension. At any rate, I'd like to thank them for bearing with my nervous prattle. They are right, peer pressure does help you to overcome the psychological barriers. When you're looking at your friends as you bleed, the urge to scream suddenly becomes controllable =P

But I have to say that the lightheadedness hasn't passed yet. There is, as I told Jes on the way to the MRT, the lingering sense that I've lost something...and anyway, I actually am lighter, now that I'm missing a bag of blood. But I do think that my thinking was impaired...loss of blood has the same kind of effect as getting drunk, I guess, because you're more impulsive, and less inhibited. I don't know how much I was thinking when I came out of that room. Luckily there wasn't anything like Lit S or Hist S to do, and the school day had ended. Heh, and I trust that my friends will pardon the slip in view of the greater cause of saving lives =P

* * * * *

Tomorrow will almost certainly finish before twelve, cos both S paper classes have been cancelled. And there may be an outing that night to watch Ballet Under the Stars, but due to reasons of bad coordination we haven't been able to confirm whether our tickets have been bought. Ah well, at any rate I think I'll come home after school. Just to have a glimpse again of what the house looks like when it's two o'clock =P