Looking back 2008

A limited view from my desk.

I quit my job to give me back more of my time and to pursue interests of mine so that I can make myself happy.

A financial orgy occured, leading to all players lying in cesspools. Subprime from the US screwed the financial sector, the financial sector screwed the national economy, the world economy screwed the world.

Politically, countries looked forward to change. Malaysia denied its ruling coalition, Barisan National, its super-majority. The empty promises from Anwar had given the opposition much to mull over. Until now, the Brain has not been able to take over the reins to rule Malaysia. And the Pinkys are not dumbos. Let's watch. The Thais changed prime minister 3 times in a year. Protesters even copped a world first - taking over the Thai Suvarnabhumi Airport, crippling air traffic for a week. US voted in a Black president.

Terror-wise, the Mumbai Massacre saw Singapore lose a female lawyer in the melee. Singapore lost Mas Selamat, a head honcho with the Jemaah Islamiah, a terrorist group in South East Asia. Elsewhere, Sri Lanka and the LTTE fought to no end.

Food prices have become really expensive these days. I no longer find eating pleasurable when I have to spend so much to find pleasure. Cooking, though, is more fun and relaxing. So long as one disregards the money spent for the ingredients and the efforts required to do the pre- and post-cooking washing up.

Oil prices yoyoed and within this year, the difference between the highs and lows is more than USD 100. And we now seem to have conclusive evidence that my fats can be used as lipodiesel. Be kind to a living fuel source!

The Olympics showed the world why it could not be saved quickly when it entered recession - China squandered all the money doing the unnecessary during the Olympics. There! There are bad expenses and there are bad expenses.

Travelling has taken a back seat this year. I need to travel more and see new places.

Most importantly, I need to get rid of this pesky flu that has bugged me since the beginning of the month. I want to start 2009 on a right note.

Actually, what's there to really to look back for 2008? I really do not know. It is but a year in my life and I am not even sure if it had been the most productive of years. Still, it represents 527 040 minutes of my life. For that, I must say life has treated me well.

The perfect solution to the energy crunch

A leading Beverly Hills plastic surgeon claims to have found an environmentally friendly way to combine two of America's great obsessions – after converting his 4x4 to run on fat removed from clients during liposuction operations. More...

My claim that I'm a living oil field is now justified. This news is possibly the best piece of news for all weight-watchers.

What better way to live than to eat all you want and let the body do what it wants. All we need now is a valve to pump out the fats we don't want and then decompose it into bio-diesel to fuel our cars. Or whatever power generators that can run on diesel.

You get to enjoy your food and not let the moment on the lips stay a life time on the hips.

You Spin Me Round

Ferris wheel size queens of the world should take note - when the Singapore Flyer stopped spinning, everything else started spinning.

People trapped in the world's largest flyer (on borrowed time) started feeling so hungry they had to eat a lot of pizzas "roped" in by the staff, some had to pee in plastic bags shielded by their family (funny, the capsules are all glass), one's head spun so bad and another puked and both landed in the hospital.

And a Russian tourist, the poor man, missed his flight home to spend a cold and dreary Christmas at home. Instead, he got to spend it on the sunny, balmy shores of Singapore. I wonder who's paying for it.

The Singapore Civil Defence Force had to be roped in to supplement efforts of the designated recovery firm. Hey, that makes me go right round round round because taxpayers money like mine are used to save people have a spin on the wheel when I have not even stepped foot in it!

And Singapore once again gained international infamy when newspapers from Australia to UK to Canada to China to Malaysia (hey, that is AROUND the world, if your geography sucks) reported the unfortunate event.

Even more interesting - the wheel is powered by 6 "rotary" units and can turn as long as 3 are working. This is what Singapore Flyer describes a 100% redundancy. Technical guys love such nonsense speak. But an electrical fire wiped out power to all 6 units. Is the fire at a 100% redundancy too?

Like many things in life, I wish 100% redundancy is so easy to achieve. Like when I lose a kilo of weight, the 100% redundancy rule wipes out 2 kilo when I stand on the weighing machine. When I gain a kilo, it shows up 500g of increase (100% redundancy, in case I really didn't gain a kilo.) Maybe Bernard Madoff also reported a 100% redundancy. He really lost USD 100 billion.

But I digress. As usual. If there is a disaster to be mocked, I must mock it with 100% redundancy. Nothing less. So, I wonder why our commandos were not called in. With their 'elicopters and rappelling skills, they should be able to save the trapped folks. Oh, they are the 100% redundancy that cannot be activated until people start dying in the capsule, I guess.

Of course, the greatest mockery of it all - the SCDF's ladders from their fire engines could reach up to capsules of only a certain height. And for good redundancy. The capsules were EMPTY! And the next capsule up (apparently, the third one up) cannot be reached.

With all these redundancy speak, it's no surprise that my head is spinning round round like a record baby right round round round....

Darwin Award Contender

Japanese man dies after retirement party hijinks

A 60-year-old man who was thrown into the air in celebration at his retirement party died after his colleagues failed to catch him and he fell to the floor, a Japanese newspaper reported on Tuesday. Read more...

My first reaction: I'd say it's time to go after the widow. I'm sure he left a good fortune behind.

On hindsight, was he really that unpopular? I mean, why would anyone toss someone in the air and then not want to catch the person? It's not like the one in the air is wearing conical bra a la Madonna.

All I Want For Christmas...

Since Christmas is a Thursday, how about a Group A single winner Toto winning ticket for me, Santa? I've been a good boy all year. See, I even quit my job as a civil...

The Grinch who Stole Christmas 2008

I think this grinch is American. No two ways about it. Do you feel Christmas-sy at all? It feels nothing like Christmas yet. And the quiet shopping centres are proof of that.

Bleary Eyed

I've been trying to plough through the required readings for the course I'm teaching and my eyes! They are complaining like anything.

It's as though I've deprived them of their year-end bonus while giving them lots and lots of extra work. Each time I put a set of readings in front of them, they simply strike by closing their eyelids.

The brain must be the mastermind. It goes to sleep as well.

I wish Al were here. At least he could be reading the papers and telling me executive summaries. Or better yet, post them on his blog so I can direct my students there for a quick read. If Al weren't already buried in snow, that is.

An Analogy to Madoff's Ponzi Scheme

Seems that a G.I. during the Korean conflict, as he was leaving the mess tent in Korea, picked up a can of sardines so that he could have a snack later in the day. As he was walking down the road a Korean soldier saw his sardines and thinking they would make a nice dinner, asked if he could buy it. The G.I. said "sure" and sold it to him for 10 cents. Another Korean saw the sardines and thought they would make a great lunch and asked to buy them. The deal was done at 15 cents, a 50 percent profit in a matter of minutes. A third Korean, who hadn't eaten for over a day and was starving, saw the sardines and bought them for 30 cents and immediately tore open the can. Unfortunately the sardines were rotten. As he was screaming at the seller for selling him rotten sardines the seller looked at him and said: "Why did you open the can?"

by Clyde Jenkins, Panama City, Panama

6% or Blisters

The new Ikea shelves arrived on Saturday.

Being spatially spastic, diagrammatically dysfunctional, dexterity disinclined, and work tool-totalled, I paid the delivery guys to build up two of the 2 metre bookshelves that I've ordered. The third shelf is already assembled, as it is an AS-IS item with a corner chipped off. But there is a good amount of money chipped off. As the damage is not structural, buying it is not too much an issue.

The cost of erecting each item is 6% of the item's cost. This is not too much money but sometimes, it is not just money.

I've also bough 6 doors for my two shelves. Being (more) fickle (than a bee in a field of flowers in bloom), I decided that it might not be sensible to get the delivery folks to do the door assembly. After all, I might want the configuration that I specified and have to end up reassembling them. And worse, since the delivery guys depend on hand held drills, the screws they put in tend to wear down the wood quite a bit. It is somewhat different when you do it manually. Perhaps it is the lesser strength used and the lower speed of entry. The wood does not get worn away that quickly and certainly, removal and reassembly are possible.

There were another 6 doors that were to be put up for the existing shelves. (And for good measure, we took down the existent doors on the two shelves we already have and changed the opening direction. Worse! At the end of the day, we bought another 2 doors for a third shelf.)

So, by the time the third door was up, I have a large blister on my right middle finger and by the fifth door, the handle of the screwdriver was wet. I've bust the bubble. And I was faced with the unsavoury prospect of finishing the doors or keeping it to another day. Somehow, another day is often no other day. So I grinned and bore it and the doors were done! Don't ask me what hit me, but I did. I even managed to assemble two drawers, which I never thought I could.

With the additional strain on the other fingers and thumb and the bust blister, there was much pain each time I touch water. Sigh. What a way to get things done. Paid the money and got the blisters. The worst of both worlds!

To Win, Be Head Ponzi

As with any Ponzi scheme, that's the only way to win. Join early, make your way up as one of the head Ponzis, cash out and run away. And then claim that you've never read what you signed. Oh, the last sentence was used by people burnt by the Lehman minibonds.

Oh heck. People are so greedy, even if they have made a million as head Ponzi, they will still stick on and hope to make the second or third or fourth. You know, to hedge against inflation. Oh, the last sentence was used by people burnt by the Lehman minibonds.

So, they carry on Ponzi-ing and Ponzi-ing until they and their investments go bust. And watch their investments turn into a whole wad of worthless paper. Oh, the last sentence will be used for people burnt by the Lehman minibonds.

Karma and the Duck Leg

Some temples in Singapore have set aside parts of their buildings to house columbaria. In a way, what these temples are doing is part of community service, providing comfort to the living that their dead loved ones are well taken care of. Of course, the living pay a bomb to secure a niche for the dead in these temples, not unlike paying a premium to stay in a condominium (compared to public housing).

Still, the prevailing belief that many Chinese Singaporeans have is that when the dead "stay" in temples like these, they are protected by the gods of the temple. Compared to leaving the urns in public columbaria, the dead are like left out in the open. Furthermore, during major festivities, the temples would hold prayers and make offerings to the dead. If housed outside, the dead would have nothing to "eat" if family do not visit.

Of note, offerings made by the living to their dead relatives at columbaria within Buddhist temples need to observe Buddhist meal habits. That means that offerings brought into the Buddhist temple for the dead must be vegetarian. The rule that only vegetarian offerings are to be made is also made known on various signages placed around the columbarium.

By and large, the understanding in the Laws of Karma is that when the rules are disobeyed, the dead would probably be punished. The living therefore should know better than to bring non-vegetarian food in for prayers. Although there are helpers at the columbaria, they are often too jaded to tick off any transgressions because ugly quarrels may break out. Furthermore, the Chinese have the saying "having a meal puts you above the emperor" - a person at a meal should never be disturbed, even if the emperor asks to see the person. Therefore, few people would want to disturb family members when they come in for prayers and offer food to the dead, even if they bring in the wrong food.

Today, I saw the entire roast duck leg made as a "vegetarian" offering. And to make things even more exciting, there was roasted belly meat and char siew. Clearly, the living could read the signs telling them that only real vegetarian stuff should be used. Yet they flagrantly disregarded the request by the temple.

Sometimes I wonder if this is a way through which the living get even with the dead.

If you really need to do it...

Travelling in Comfort

After deliberating between flying and taking a bus, we decided on taking a bus because the travelling costs from KLIA to KL is going to cost us more money and the time saved from flying is not significant. So it was decided that a bus it'll be. We were booked on first class coaches for our outbound journey.

The tickets cost a little bomb each but for the comfort of sitting in a coach with just 15 other passengers, I think it is really worth the money. An aisle runs down the middle of the coach and there are eight single seats per side of the coach. The seats are large and leather bound. They also double as massage chairs. There were enough movies and on-board entertainment to keep a person fully occupied for the 5 hour 30 minute journey if the person isn't too picky.

Even better, lunch was provided on the bus trip. Baked rice, chicken with mushroom, and boiled mixed vegetables were the fare for lunch, much like airplane food. This meal saved us precious time from having to take meal breaks at lunch stops specializing in overpriced bad food. And the coach could take its time to make the journey without having to speed to make up for lost time, putting the passengers in danger.

There was after lunch drinks following that. Before long, KL was in sight and the bus terminus was just a few turns away. Our friend turned up right as the bus pulled into its berth and whisked us away to our hotel.

The bus journey back was in a different class altogether. We could not get first class tickets back and so had to settle for "business class" like seats with "economy class" like service. The seats were in the usual single seat, aisle, double seat configuration, imitating the other better business class coaches that ply the same route. Unfortunately, there was nothing of the service that we had expected. There was no on board meals, the seat was not leather upholstered, the seat did not have any massaging ability, and they had on board entertainment systems that blast sound out of your seats' headrests instead of through personalised head phones. Deciding that my sanity was more important than entertainment, I chose to turn off the OBE system throughout.

Ironically, this bus company is called Luxury Travel. The bus and its plans and strappings were anything but luxurious. What a misnomer!

The bus driver sped like his bonus depended on his ability to break the land speed record between KL and Singapore. We were given a 20 minute pathetic meal break at Yong Peng where we had bad food at exorbitant prices. This return journey was everything that we would not have tolerated on a bus trip. (Of course, we know who to skin for this hullabaloo! And we will, when he next comes down to Singapore.)

If things weren't bad enough, we queued up for nearly an hour and a half to clear the Singapore Customs. The snaking queue stretched halfway up the Second Link bridge and my, was it a pain watching the snake twitch like a half dead millipede as we inched towards the CIQ facilities. Now I know why passengers clearing CIQ at Tuas never had much to complain about even though there are some crowds. The single-lane roads have diverted the travellers' attention to the Land Transport Authority's poor road planning for the ingress routes. What rubbish!

We arrived at our final destination - Concorde Hotel in Orchard Road; the former Le Meridien for the old timers - near midnight and even as the rain beat down on the taxi stand, the blue ghosts were nowhere to be found. Finally, we booked a cab by phone and cabbed home at a cost of $23, including the booking and midnight charges. What a rip-off.

And of course, we know who to skin for this exorbitant taxi cost - the one who insisted that the 4.30 pm bus was the correct timing despite being repeatedly told that the 2.30 pm bus timing would be the better one for travellers dependent on public transport. We could have arrived at 10 pm and saved the midnight charge. For all he knew, we might have taken a MRT home.

Moral of the story: You get what you pay for. And you know best what time you should travel.

PS. The next time, we might fly home from KL. This would be contingent on getting cheap tickets. At least the cab fare from the airport to home would not exceed $15.

The Taste of Traditional Cooking

Dinner for the first evening in Kuala Lumpur was at a old Chinese restaurant that specializes in cooking in the traditional way. Apparently, there are about two or three such restaurants left in KL that cook over charcoal fires and takes an eternity or two serving up dishes. And perhaps also the kind of eating place where the fats used are rendered freshly from frying lard till the oils come out.

Food was good. The starter roast duck was different from what I used to eat in Singapre. The duck had none of the musk commonly associated with grain-fed ducks, which have been purposefully fattened up for the slaughter in the shortest possible time. The meat was chewy but tender. The fatty parts were much fewer than the usual duck. The melty crisp skin still lingers in my mind, making me crave more roast duck.

Spinach fried with garlic was simply done. The aroma from the garlic lightly fried in lard compliments the ferro-chlorophylly taste of freshly harvested spinach, giving it a nice touch. The slightly visuous sauce clinged to the lightly done vegetables, making eating the greasy leaves and stems a pleasure.

Venison fried in ginger and spring onions was equally simple. The fresh ingredients and the meat complemented one other, providing a good combination to go with rice.

Steamed promfret did not disappoint either. Fish is simple - fresh or not fresh. Nothing much to talk about.

The host ordered Cantonese style steamed rice, which was steamed in steel bowls over water. The rice was hard and ready to soak up the oils and sauces from the dishes. Indeed, if not for my preference for Hokkien styled rice, which tends to be more moist and tender, I would have easily done half a dozen bowls of rice to go with that meal.

The next time, I'll want to try the uber traditional stall beside this restaurant. Apparently, this other stall is so traditional that it even eschewed creature strappings such as airconditioning!

Homebound

There is little to do while being sick at home. However, time flies by so quickly I never want this period of inactivity to end.

What is there not to like?

No work. Too sick to work but I don't mind squeezing in an hour or two when I feel up to it.

No going out. Too sick to go out. And I certainly don't miss it.

No need to spend money. Except for seeing doctors, I can live with less expenses. Spending money does not bring my joy or grief. It just requires me to invest time and effort to make sure the money is spent properly. So, if I don't get a chance to spend money, so be it. I won't die not being able to buy a Nonya kebaya to wear for Chinese New Year. (Sorry, Quincy.)

No wasting of medical leave. When I was a full-timer, I didn't like to fall sick because my work piled up. But if I do fall sick, usually from overwork, I would love to go on as long a break as possible to recover. Alas, this is usually not possible because viruses hate loneliness. Doctors know it. That's why medical leave days are limited and before you know it, you are back to share your diseased-joy with your colleagues.

In any case, I just want my throat to clear up. The swelling has spread to the ear, meaning that the remant virus has entered the ear tracts. Sigh. I'd rather fall sick with minor ailments frequently than get one of these full works once in a while. At least I'd be less miserable.

My week in review

1 Dec - Saw the doc. Sinusitis and mild tonsilitis. On antibiotics and out of commission.

2 Dec - Symptoms get better.

3 Dec - Back to work. Get slightly better for the -itises but the bacteria are clogging my up with mucus.

4 Dec - At work. The throat gets worse but the nose clears up more. The chest gets congested. Boiled a ton of herbal teas and drank three pots in three hours.

5 Dec - At work. The throat clears up. The inflamation is gone. The cough (part 2) festers. Coughed the entire night.

6 Dec - Back to doc. He confirmed what my body was trying to say. The pesky part is over. The peskier part is here to bug me before I recover. I coughed the whole day and night. The cough was a "sensitive" one. A slight breeze can spark off a coughing fit lasting minutes. Phelgm and mucus not coming out. A rather bad sign.

7 Dec - First lumps of green pellet-like mucus expelled. Voiceless. Entire throat muscle swollen. Felt like I had a meat donut shoved into my throat. Cough is better.

8 Dec - Mucus now more watery and the green stuff (pus!) is all out. The voice is not back yet but the cough and all are getting better. On the road to recovery.

Move over Edie Brit, here comes Karen Matthews!

Seven children, six fathers (and a ring from Argos): Lazy, sex-mad Karen Matthews symbolises broken Britain

By Chris Brooke
Last updated at 11:35 AM on 05th December 2008

In another time and in another place Karen Matthews and her dysfunctional family would have been shunned by disapproving neighbours.

Her life of casual sexual relationships and shocking maternal neglect would have been seen as shameful and extraordinary.

Since becoming pregnant at 19 she has had seven children from five, or more likely six, fathers (such is the nature of her life that she appears to have lost count).

She has never married or had a job and always relied on benefits to pay for her drink and cigarettes.

And her latest and longest relationship was with a man ten years her junior who had an obsession with child pornography.

But the moral code that once bound the nation together is now widely ignored.

Until Shannon was abducted, Matthews had much in common with many other women on Dewsbury's deprived Moorside estate and others like it in Britain.

Neighbours thought of her as 'one of us'. It is perhaps a reflection of what politicians call our broken society that her personal history of successive pregnancies by a series of men was regarded as normal.

The victims of this depressing saga have, inevitably, been the children.

Matthews had little to do with three of the children who live with their fathers and the four who once shared her grim council house are now being looked after by social
services.

One characteristic Matthews had an abundance of was laziness. Most women would find caring for so many young children with so few resources, both frustrating and exhausting.

But Matthews simply arranged her routine to do as little as possible. It appears that for almost two years she regularly drugged Shannon to keep her quiet.

The peaks of this drug use coincided with the school holidays when she was most 'in the way'.

She had taken the sleeping pill Temazepam, the adult painkiller Tramadol, another painkiller Dihydrocodeine, the anti-depressant Amitriptyline and the travel sickness drug Meclozine.

Matthews' daily routine - detailed to police during the hunt for Shannon - began when she woke the older kids up, turned on the television and sent them off to have breakfast in school.

Then she usually 'watched' her partner Craig Meehan on his Xbox computer game and rarely missed the Jeremy Kyle show on television, before changing her baby's nappy and checking to see if there was anything interesting available on eBay.

Later Matthews said she 'watched more TV', played computer games herself and occasionally did some 'cleaning' before school finished.

Her house was not only a mess inside (with 'punch holes' in several doors), but the tiny garden outside was piled high with rubbish.

In common with many of her neighbours, Matthews was in debt to loan sharks and spent a significant proportion of the family budget on alcohol and cigarettes.

Her former lovers also described her as idle and selfish. Matthews was 20 when she became a mother. The father John Bretton has accused her of abandoning her twoweekold boy in a row over cigarettes.

'I'd taken our stereo into the pawn shop to sell it so we could buy essentials for the baby, nappies and milk,' Mr Bretton recalled. 'But typically Karen just wanted cash for cigarettes. She demanded that I go in and get £15 for it. But when I came out with just a tenner she absolutely hit the roof.

'She was stood there screaming and bawling how she needed the extra fiver for smokes. Then she just turned her back and went AWOL for days.'

Mr Bretton, a 29-year- old kitchen assistant, described his former lover as a 'slob' with a violent temper, who would hit him with pans and chairs and used appalling language.

They briefly patched things up and shared a council house in Dewsbury, but their relationship ended when he returned home to find a strange man in the house.

Matthews told him: 'It's over between us. I've got someone new so get lost.'

He would occasionally visit to see his son and said Matthews never cooked her children a meal, drank large amounts of alcohol and was smoking 60 cigarettes a day when pregnant.

He said: 'Karen just goes from one bloke to the next, uses them to have a kid, grabs all the child benefit and moves on. I was her first victim.' Predictably their son, now 12, became a tearaway and repeatedly ran away from home.

Shannon's father was Leon Rose. They were together for about two years and split up when she was pregnant with the girl. Their son Ian, 11, ended up with his father and Shannon with her mother.

The jobless 29-year-old lived ten miles away in Huddersfield, but once again the children suffered most from the acrimonious split and he rarely saw Shannon in recent years.

However, the words Shannon scribbled on her bedroom wall - 'I want to live with my dad' - suggest much about life at 24 Moorside Road.

Paul Hooker, 31, was Matthews' next lover and before long the father of the next child Daniel, now eight. They were together less than two years.

His description of their split is all too familiar: 'The day I left Karen, she screamed at me to take my son with me. She doesn't care about her kids - she's more interested in men.'

Jobless William Marshall, 36, was also told in no uncertain terms to take their baby daughter Kelly with him. Now living with a new partner and their two children and six-year-old Kelly, Mr Marshall said: 'Before I took her in, the neighbours used to look after Kelly.

'I was forced to go round there every day to change her nappy and give her her bottle.

'Karen knew I was only visiting to see my daughter and she wanted more. She said to me one day, "If you don't want to make a go of it, you'd better take your daughter with you when you leave or I'll throw her out on the doorstep". I took Kelly with me that day.'

In January 2003, a year after Kelly's birth, another boy was born. But the father's identity, which is not on his birth certificate, has never been publicly confirmed.

During a radio interview before Shannon was found, Matthews said her seven children had five fathers, but it seems likely a casual relationship with a sixth man resulted in her giving birth again. Such is the nature of this woman's world, it may be that even she hasn't a clue.

There were other men who found Karen Matthews irresistible. Eddie Clayton, 67, said he was her lover for three months and bought her an engagement ring from Argos for £36.99. The three-times married father-of-six said: 'I was flattered. She made me feel young again.'

But he had to tell his sex-mad lover to take it easy because he suffered from asthma and angina.

Their fling finished when she started seeing an ex-boyfriend behind his back.

Within a few months she was living with supermarket fishmonger Craig Meehan, 22, and that relationship lasted four years. Meehan believed he was the father of Matthews' youngest child, now aged three.

But DNA tests taken by police during the search revealed Meehan was not the father - adding yet another twist to the Matthews' tangled private life.

Born in Dewsbury, Matthews had one sister and five brothers. Parents June and Gordon still live nearby. Before Matthews' arrest in April, her father told the Daily Mail that he and his wife never wanted to see her or Meehan again. 'I now consider them to be completely disowned and I want nothing more to do with them.'

Sister Julie Poskitt, who is married with six children from the same relationship, has nothing but contempt for her.

She recalled how years ago Matthews would tape a bag to her baby's bottom instead of using nappies and was even too lazy to hold a bottle - preferring to prop it in place with a cushion.

'I was disgusted,' she said. 'I mean what kind of mother would do that?'

The 37-year- old care worker claimed she reported her sister five times to social services.

'When social services went to her house they said they didn't see any signs of neglect. But her house was absolutely filthy.'

Last night the role of Kirklees social services was coming under intense scrutiny.
Whatever emerges from that it seems clear Matthews slipped through the net and there was no one watching over Shannon when she needed protecting.

I can't believe it either

Man killed for not sharing karaoke microphone
Thursday, December 04, 2008

KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia —

Police say a Malaysian man has been stabbed to death by customers at a karaoke bar for singing too much and refusing to share the microphone.

A district police official says witnesses saw a group of men punch and stab 23-year-old Abdul Sani Doli with a knife at the bar late Wednesday in eastern Sandakan town on Borneo island.

The official says a brawl broke out because the men were furious that Abdul Sani was hogging the stage. He says police detained two suspects after Abdul Sani was found dead outside the bar.

The official spoke on condition of anonymity Friday because he was not authorized to make public statements.

Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

TT CC PH

The MRT trains are extremely packed these days regardless of time of the day.

Today, I had to jostle for elbow room with a woman.

How I describe her will leave nothing to imagination. You will understand why after she does what she did in the middle of the train, she was granted the full train width between the seats.

For good measure, it wasn't elbow room. My bag was banging into hers and what f**king luck today, to stand in front of two seated old fogeys who simply won't get off the trains. Staking in front of their seats while seeing the rest of the passengers get off, except these two old men, was frustrating enough. And then there was Ms TT CC PH.

Who, you ask?

Ms Thunderthigh Columncalf Polehugger.

That's her. I might add Victorian Columns!

Sound advice from...

There are very few words which can comfort a severely suicidal person.

One of the examples which I found on Suicide Crisis Centre is:

Please Remember !!

You can always kill yourself - L a t e r !!


JUST DON'T DO IT now.


Put it off - for another hour, another day.


I feel strangely comforted.

Someone should just arrest this guy!

Just opened my email to retrieve a post and received two emails in the junk mail folder with the subject Mr Mark Johnson.

My curiosity getting the better of me, I moved one message to my inbox and read the contents via the preview pane. Guess what I saw!

I reproduce the email - grammar and spelling errors in its entirety - for your viewing pleasure. Someone should just go find out if there is such a sucker of a moronic auditorship in the UK. By the way, who would be interested in a mere 30%?

* * *

Goodday,

My name is JMark Johnson Director - Assurance & business in a reputable firm of accountants and auditors in the UK.
In the course of my duty, I had deliberately over - invoiced a certain contract to the tune of Two Million, Six hundread British Pounds (2.6 million Pounds).

The original contractor has been paid and the balance of the above amount is ready to be paid out to an individual or corporate oranisation who can apply to my firm, with my guaidance for the realease of the funds in its favour.
I will be on hand to put together all requisite paper work to achieve our purpose,without any blow back to us, now or in the future.
At conclusion, I propose tentatively, that we share the funds in the ratio of 70% to me and 30% to you.

If you may provide the following:
1. Your names/address
2.Name of company/enterprise/business etc
3.Age / Occupation
4.Direct Telephone Number(s)

I will be glad to profer more information leading to a discussion.
I ask that you treat this will utmost confidentiality.

Sincerely,
Mr. Mark Johnson

Email: mrmarkjohnson7777@gmail.com
Reply to: mrmarkjohnson7777@live.com

Rosa Parks

Rosa Parks (February 4 1913 – October 24 2005) was an African American civil rights activist whom the U.S. Congress later called "Mother of the Modern-Day Civil Rights Movement".

On December 1, 1955, Parks became famous for refusing to obey bus driver James Blake's order that she give up her seat to make room for a white passenger. This action of civil disobedience started the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which is one of the largest movements against racial segregation. In addition, this launched Martin Luther King, Jr., who was involved with the boycott, to prominence in the civil rights movement. She has had a lasting legacy worldwide.

People always say that I didn't give up my seat because I was tired, but that isn't true. I was not tired physically, or no more tired than I usually was at the end of a working day. I was not old, although some people have an image of me as being old then. I was forty-two. No, the only tired I was, was tired of giving in.

Source

Double Whammy

Had the chills and ran a fever the whole of last night.

Woke up every two hours to pee and drink water.

The throat was closing up, the nasal passages are clogged.

The joints are sore and hurting really bad.

Getting out of bed is sheer torture.

So is pulling the blanket over myself to keep warm.

This morning, I was outside the doctor's at 7.30 am, one full hour before the clinic opened. There were already two others ahead of me. I sat on the bench - thank god for the renovation, the clinic staff moved the bench from across the clinic door to next to it - and dozed off for ten minute snoozes. The queue grew longer each time I wake up.

I got to see the doctor after 9 am because there were another 6 appointment cases where the patients did not have to queue.

So, he diagnosed tonsilitis (not so bad) and sinusitis. The former gives me a sore throat, the latter a headache. Together, the fever and body ache.

Sigh. Why do bad things come in twos?

Why help them?

I've caught two episodes of a programme where media celebrities and a group of volunteers go out and help destitute families by giving their living quarters a once over.

The more I watch it, the angrier I felt.

Apart from the fact that the recipients were mostly ungrateful (I'd think so) and took things for granted, a particular mother (her 11 year old only daughter's name Cherry) was such a scheming bitch that I felt the entire effort to help her was unjustifiable. She refused to walk even though she could. Why? Because she claims she will fall down if she walks. She even accused her daughter of not holding her properly, leading to her fall. Her little girl was not even 10 then!

Another mother (her surname is Xiao) of a retarded son refused to make peace with her neighbours even though the helpers bought cake for her to give to them and rebuild bridges. What pride!

If there is a god, these people should all be shot dead stat! But then, I believe god has grander plans for them. Perhaps the shame and humiliation that they are facing now is their retribution. Especially if they believe in a religion that does not have the concept of an after-life, it must be it that they must expunge their karma before they die.

Well, I'm just feeling the injustice for those living around them and the poor celebrities. I wonder why they should not consider coming over to clean up my place instead. After all, I can bake delicious bread to reciprocaate their kindness. (Squirrels often find it hard to part with their nuts. Pun? What pun?)

I am not the cause of your problems...

so better watch your attitude because I've just about had enough.

I don't need to tolerate nonsense.

I can be part of the solution but push me enough and I'll choose to be part of the problem.

The strings once cut...

My fellow company of bitches and I met for lunch on Friday last and over our lip smacking Peranakan fare, we looked at how things have developed for many of us.

To think we were all colleagues once, only one of the four of us are still in the job whereas the rest have quit to become free agents.

I was just saying that at the grand old age of 666 divided by 2 minus 300, I can no longer hold down a full time job. The strings of bondage, once cut, liberates the body and soul entirely. I am no longer willing to be held down by a restraint. You may break my wing so that I am flightless but in my heart, in my mind, my very being soars further than the limits of what have you.

Another fellow lunch mate admitted the same. She didn't think she could ever go back to another job where she cannot get to dictate her terms any more. She is especially disillusioned with the way she was treated when she was at work. However, for whatever we had shared, we always got along.

Another lady who just quit her job had the same idea. She didn't think she wants to be held hostage to a job again. Part time work is fine but not full time commitments.

Our last friend, who is looking at a particularly bright prospect in front of her, hesitates. We told her to take the challege and rise up another rung before quiting. Why quit when the opportunity is right there?

Still, I must have been blessed to have this group of friends in my life.

People have a way of sorting themselves out in your life. Certain groups form and then they grow, they get trimmed; people are inducted into our (un)holy circles (eh, all bitchy people!) while others stray or go their separate ways (they become our bitching targets). But somehow, they have always brought lots of love to the table.

I look forward to having them over for a bread party soon.

Of washing hands and worms

Just graded a paper where the student argued that a hawker who washes his hands when selling food but does not wash them if he's off duty will have a hard time keeping up his hygiene levels as demanded by professional identity as a food seller. The student rhetorically asked how anyone would buy food from him once they know of his differing hygiene habits. So I wrote in response, "Just don't be the first in the queue to buy from him!"

Then as I was blog browsing, Old Whig posted this piece of news about how a woman ended up with a worm in her brain stem because of eating raw or undercooked pork or through contact with someone who had not washed his/her hands after their big business. (Watch video.)

Talk about coincidence!

PS. I wonder if Al washes his hands after doing his brain dump.

Am I really crazy?

Find out more about yourself at The IPIP-NEO.

My results are published in the link "Understanding Teflonman" in the left margin.

Special thanks to Probligo for this, cos I found my way there from his blog.

I better stop doing the Old Whig

My recent blog posts have become short intros and short conclusions and in between, I'm providing links for people to go and self-destruct by reading the tome of information that has even confused me.

Seems like a good thing to do - thorough research and then help spread the word by showing the whole world how smart I am to find those information.

But I should stop doing that. There is already a Master of such a skill and he's so good at it, my recent efforts - or lack of - make me blush.

I'm showy by nature but not a show off. So, I'll leave that to the pros.

Reminder to self: Better start getting back to proper writing.

Wisdom in 140 characters or less

"The people who oppose your ideas are inevitably those who represent the established order that your ideas will upset." ~Anthony D'Angelo

Source

I have a meeting later today. And I'm not looking forward to it.

The closing speech of Clarence Darrow in the Henry Sweet Trial (1926)

Keith Olbermann referred to Clarence Darrow's closing speech at the Henry Sweet Trial as he made a passionate plea for people to denouce Proposition 8.

Curiosity got the better of me as I searched for the famed closing speech in Google. I've found it. Darrow had a very incisive understanding of human nature. He knew people very well and the respectfully damning speech was persuasive and incredibly well-crafted. He allowed people graceful admissions without feeling shame. He let them feel that they were the righteous even though they were devil-incarnates.

It was indeed even more exciting than Atticus Finch's drama in To Kill a Mockingbird. A delightful read, indeed!

Interesting development in Proposition 8

Keith Olbermann of MSNBC makes a passionate plea for gay marriages. Indeed, his premise is simple: This is about the human heart.

Some nutcase must have subsumed childbearing duties as part of marriage. That is why gay and lesbian marriages are not tolerated as no offsprings can be produced. But if this is the case, childless couples ought to be stoned or burned at the stakes or even condemned to eternal hell since they failed in their godly duties.

So what's the problem with the human heart? For starters, many people are born without hearts.

Olbermann's written plea here.

Boing! Boing!

The food fair at Singapore Expo Hall 5 was jam packed with mindless, brainless, motionless bodies.

Mindless because they should have planned how they wanted to navigate the simple labyrinth of stalls (hey, it is just 6 rows of them, so what is a mentally trivial exercise).

Brainless because they should know better than to bring their prams and wet market shopping carts that are so bloody obstrusive. And why the heck would anyone think of bringing young kids to a shove-fest like this? Hey, this is not a Proposition 8 Demonstration! At least, over there, I'd get my fill of good looking people in their leather and gear. Oops. Have I revealed too much? But heck, it was so depressing looking around that my friend pointed out to me a girl whom he christened "A human Cabbage Patch Kid" after I came out of the toilet. It was a rather mean remark; I saw her earlier as I exited the washroom but from the place he stood, she was indeed one! She'd put the CPKs to shame, goddammit!

Motionless because many of these people wanted to sample food at the various stalls. Fine! Get the food and move aside. You don't need to eat in front of those stall holders! They already half guessed, ok, nine-tenths confirmed that you are just a cheapskate glutton who will eat and not buy anything. No need to pretend. Take the thing, MOVE ASIDE and eat. Then you can f--- off quietly since the next crowd would have engaged the stallholders and they wouldn't have time to care if you indeed wanted to buy anything. If people simply stood in front of these stalls to demonstrate how food should be eaten to the people who have cooked those samples, then how the f--- do you expect the rest of the crowd to move along? Hey, many of those food samples are that - samples. You taste, show a face and find the nearest dustbin. I even wonder why they come and peddle their wares. What we liked were mostly sold out.

So, after traversing the various corridors, I am really heaving my spoils and trying to make my way out of that progressively crowded place. If the place was 65% filled when I first went in, it was approaching 95% now. And so with people doing particulate brownian motion, it was not long before a gaseous, high mass, high energy molecule like me is going to whack into someone.

She moved right into my right shoulder as I broke out of the two man blockade. And she bounced right off me, took two steps back as I zoomed past her to the next roadblock.

It felt good. I should go to such fairs more often. In future, I'll just bump into and bounce people off for the fun of it. Shopping? That can wait.

Oh, there was another who went "Hey!" after she knocked into me. Hey what? Like I care, babe! Move along and eat my dust, you hopeless lethargic low life.

Oops! I did it again.

From the Useless Knowledge widget below: The hump of a starving camel may flop over and hang down the side of its body as the fat is used up.

Is that why an aging breast sags?

Oh my poor Bubbles!

Little wonder our lunch/dinner outing never materialised for so long. One of us is too busy bedding, another is too busy bitching, the third is too busy babysitting, and now the fourth is too busy bubbling.

Poor Bubbles. I didn't know he was so good at describing his poxy infliction. Makes me want to take a look at him myself, now that my curiosity is so... piqued. Alas, I know I should not be a busybody because herpes simplex is indeed highly contagious and I haven't been in the best of health myself - the bloody flu won't come and the pre-flu symptoms won't go.

Get well soon, Bubbles.

Why airheads speak faster than...

I learnt from the useless knowledge website that dolphins jump out of the water to conserve energy. It is easier to move through the air than through the water.

So ideas must definitely pass through airheads faster than a cerebral fluid soaked spongy mass.

I should have paid more attention to the useless knowledge they were trying teach me in physics lessons.

What will they do?

Hijacking another aircraft to crash into another building in the US is unlikely to succeed. More successful would be an aircraft in distress crashing into a US building.

So let's assume the New York Grand Central Station, smack in the middle of NYC, becomes a target.

20 bombs go off 10 seconds apart in the evening rush hour. The whole railway is paralysed.

I like this scenario better because in the dark, rescue operations are going to be harder and there will be more carnage. By the time dawn comes, the time lapse would be too long for survivors to stay alive.

Our favourite Uncle A'Q comes out and sneers. CIA agents recognise that the uncle is in some known city in some known country where the US can immediate launch missiles into in less than an hour.

And what will they do?

Dispatch the forces to take him out? No! This can't be done. Change we need!

Bomb the place to smithereens? No! The country won't be happy (even though they are hiding Uncle). No can do. Change we need!

So what happens? Re-site the rail station?

The Economic Crisis

Times are bad and a global slowdown is imminent. That's a good thing, unless you're the President-elect promising to do the Rob-in-Hood. Yeah, you know, hood your face, rob the rich, and keep it yourself? Oh, I mean, give to the poor.

The Reds got the US$700 billion rescue package passed. Clearly, this is not enough. Change we need!

I read this morning that the Blues are going to continue the US$700 billion rescue package. They are going to introduce "more stringent" criteria to help them decide who gets saved (the blue backers?) and who doesn't (anything from purple to red?). In addition, they are putting out another US$175 billion stimulus package.

This is still throwing good money at bad. Worse, those with money now have to watch out because they may lose their hard earned moolah to the authorised robbers.

Don't fret! Pass me your money. I'll save them for you. I'll help you invest in Singapore properties. These will only appreciate in value as Singapore land is scarce. And you don't have to worry about the harsh winters and hot summers. We have an agreeable equatorial climate for you guys.

Oh, you're not interested? Fine. Forget I asked.

Getting back to the original discussion, the Red package is bad. The Blue package is essentially the same as the Red package. But it's good. Change you need?

Yeah right. Amazing how people are just so happy with the wine bottle is changed and not the rancid contents.

A Matter of Agenda

While the newspapers and various news-related media have a social responsibility to report the truth, the direction of their editorial policies are often influenced by the agenda the decision makers have. Some of these agenda are in the open whereas most are not. While each news source claims to be providing fair reporting of the news, it takes an intelligent reader to be able to read past the nuanced writing to get to the facts that lay beneath the opinions.

News sources that are pro-government are often slammed by the people as mouthpieces of the government. Some of these sources subject themselves to self-censorship before the news are published. In contrast, news sources that are align themselves against certain governments will always criticise what the governments do, regardless of the goodness of intent or policy.

Indeed, in the news arena, change we need. But what kind? Fox, or Faux, News is often slammed as a Red mouthpiece. I wonder who are the Blue mouthpieces. Still, having multiple mouthpieces are necessary because when we take in views from both sides, we will be able to find the common denominator. The common denominator will be the news, which should come to us without the unnecessary embellishments.

So we have a balance of power in the news sources. Er... what are we going to change?

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

While many attribute the quote to William Shakespeare, it actually comes from a play called the "The Mourning Bride" (1697) by William Congreve. The complete quote is "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."

Why is this important?

Because hell hath no fury like a Republican trumped.

Don't get at me. I'm sad with the rising blue tide. Fortunately, it's for 4 years and no one knows what will happen between now and then.

Given the rotten situation he is in, there is no way but up. Of course, we cannot preclude the possibility that he wants to dig further downwards.

What I know of the grievances of the grassroots, I read them off the blogs and other internet sources that I visit. People either like him or loathe him. This is only to be expected.

The important thing now is to deepen this crisis so that it can begin healing. There is no point in trying to prescribe antibiotics when amputation is necessary. I hope people have the guts to do what is right.

I can just imagine if Bush stepped down last year when the economy was still booming. I'm sure people would have painted a different picture of him.

President-elect Barack Obama's remarks in Chicago

President-elect victory speech

Hello, Chicago.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled -- Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America!

It's the answer that -- that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

A little bit earlier this evening, I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Senator McCain. Senator McCain fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him; I congratulate Governor Palin for all that they've achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on the train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years, the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next First Lady: Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both more than you can imagine, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House. And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother's watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and I know that my debt to them is beyond measure. To my sister Maya, my sister Alma, all my other brothers and sisters -- thank you so much for the support that you've given me. I am grateful to them.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe -- the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best -- the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America. To my chief strategist David Axelrod -- who's been a partner with me every step of the way. To the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics -- you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you. I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give 5 dollars and 10 dollars and 20 dollars to the cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy, who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep. It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth. This is your victory.

And I know you didn't do this just to win an election. And I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime: two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after the children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage or pay their doctors' bills or save enough for their child's college education. There's new energy to harness, new jobs to be created, new schools to build, and threats to meet, alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you, we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as President. And we know the government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years -- block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand. What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice. So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other. Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers. In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a Party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity. Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours: "We are not enemies but friends...." "Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection."¹

And to those Americans who -- whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your President, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- To those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we've proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot: Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose: Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved: Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "we shall overcome": Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change: Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one;² that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubt and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you.

God bless you.

And may God bless the United States of America.

T'was in the signs

I should have guessed Obama would win the US presidential elections.

I mean, the signs were all there and the stars were all aligned. Yet, as they say, hindsight is 20-20.

Many Americans were "kao-peh-kao-bu"ing recently. The country was mired in two wars, the subprime crisis was bad, the economy was failing, the Bush Administration can't seem to do right and the people felt "change they need" (even though I don't know if they know exactly what change they need). They were literally "cry-father-cry-mother"ing for change. They wanted the whole system revamped.

I wonder what that means? Pull out of Iraq and Afghanistan? Provide refugee camps for their own people? Print US banana notes to revive the economy? Change from Red to Blue? Oh, yes, change from Red to Blue. That's the only thing they have to do for a start, then the rest will follow. But what's the rest?

So, with a name that combines father "pa or ba" and mother "ma" and which starts off with an exclamation "O!", then the US got their man!

Obama it is!

Gourmet Test

This is a one-question test to see if you have the makings of a gourmet.

Question
What is the difference in taste between distilled, mineral, reverse osmosis, and tap water?


























Answer

The chemicals.

Honestly.

Pigs, dogs, and some other animals can taste water, but people cannot. Humans don’t actually taste water or even Perrier; they taste the chemicals and impurities in the water.

Did you pass the test?

What a difference a year makes...

... they did not have the sense or courtesy to keep drinks for others who have not had their share

... they did not care to leave their trash in the bins

... they left the otak otak wrappers on the window ledge

... they do not understand the meaning of pick up the litter on the floor

... their mouths are not yet fully developed, dropping satay and other tidbits all over the floor

... their eyes are not able to see things clearly, they can't even see the rubbish right in front of them

... they didn't think that spills ought to be mopped up

... they think trash cans are bottomles pits

... their idea is that dishes wash themselves up

... their belief is the food should be served to them for their picking

... and that the raw food will cook themselves

... they dirtied all the rooms in a span of less than 6 hours

... privacy meant nothing to them

... an overflowing bin is still a bin...

No doubt they were 14 coming 15 but they were nothing like my adorable students who already had developed manners, well most of them, when they were 15. My students knew to keep a room for me and keep out of it. They knew to keep the trash where they belong or at least there were trash police who would ensure that the socially less mature ones knew what to do. My students knew dishes need to be washed and made sure they were washed. They even counted the dishes before checking out and reported any damage. They kept food fresh, ensured that things went on well. They were definitely mature, taking turns to play and keeping their volumes down. There was more congeniality and much more fun.

I never recall having to stoop over washing dishes like Cinder-homme till my back ached. I never had to stand at the microwave to precook the food to 85% because the fire they started was too small and there was too little charcoal for the BBQ. My kids knew how to take over so that everyone can get some fun. Heck, even if they were not operating the microwave cooking, they would have come in to take out cooked portions so that their additional hands can make light work.

A few of them came by, of course, to ask if the food was ready but these are the ones who would, I believe, do their share of cleaning up. They won't be all packed up ready to go once the food is finished but the cleaning is not. Heck, they would even clear the bins and check that the windows are closed PROPERLY before they leave. My students would even check the lights and fans to make sure that everything was in order.

I think I want to have another BBQ with my class soon. Because they are worth it!

Happy Samhain

A friend wished me Happy Samhain when we chatted this morning.

Interesting.

Getting work done in Grad School

Happen to chance upon this little article called Academic Tipping Guidelines and it was funny.

I wonder if the folks would take Al's cookies for tips. On hindsight, maybe not. He'll poison them and I'll be stuck in grad school.

Maybe I'll use Stern's Blue Bell ice-cream. But do they use Imported-From-China, melamine-laced milk?

Hell, what am I to do? Oh, I'll use those Lehman notes from Shade. I'm sure those will work.

The Blame Game

Now that the shit has hit the roof, people start finger pointing and blaming others for their misery.

It's true. People never look at themselves and ask themselves what they have done wrong. They never stop and wonder how they could have waded into the mess, even if they had done so willingly.

For the record, I am dead against bailing out the Lehman Brothers' Highnotes holders. People who have a case should pursue a legal solution to the matter. Otherwise, stop begging for handouts. Or blaming others.

Prove to me that greed was not the underlying impetus of all the actions of those burnt by the recent financial meltdown. If you loan money to the loansharks so that you can earn more, who are you to blame when the loansharks run away?

Greed, one of the cardinal sins. Pay back time cometh!

Gleefully watches as the sharemarkets continue their exploration 20 000 leagues under the sea.

Plain Sailing Not

Along with the rest of the flotilla, people who managed to build their own seacraft went along the adventure to mine gold and capture slaves. Their intention was to ravage whatever they manage to land their hands on.

To move as quickly as possible from point to point, they designed their craft to be able to take in lots of water to lower their centres of gravity. Many people were also not the least interested to know if their craft were sea-worthy; they believed calm seas and excellent weather will prevail indefinitely.

As the fleet travel around to plunder, the captains had not watched the tides. They had not upkept their vessels. They did not watch the exact capacity their craft can withstand. They loaned big time to undertake voyages way beyond their ken. They had even forgotten that people were beginning to treat them like pillaging pirates.

And as luck would have it, the entire fleet ran aground on a sand bank as they were navigating a treacherous stretch of narrow waterway with erratic tides. And as luck would have it, the tides started going out.

Thinking that the tides would soon return, people urged their captains to unload the water in the vessel holds. The added water allowed limited movement but this gave the people onboard renewed hopes. Even without reaching their destination, they plundered "offline" from their boats. They shortsold, overbought, essentially trading nothing for money. Everyone still hoped to make a quick one.

As the water levels receded further than expected, people in the trapped vessels are begin to worry. Still they were still frantically plundering continually. They made the captains release whatever water there is in the hull. Alas, the ebbing tides prevailed - the water is all drawn out with the tide. Left high and dry, these "pirates" now expect the littoral states to siphon their water to fill the straits so that they can move off again.

When the surrounding area ran out of water and the waterway was nonetheless dry, the pillagers expect the states to now go around the world to procure water to set them a-sail again.

What they have forgotten is tides ebb and flow. One cannot mess with nature. Once it is time, the natural state will be restored.

Instead of complaining and whining, the bandits should simply divest their gains in exchange for food and water to stay alive on their craft. They should not feel wronged for it was by their free will that they had chosen such a path. However, they pointed fingers at others for their misery. Without spending a single cent, they expect to be fed, clothed and given spending money. Worse, most wanted to live like kings regardless of the current condition.

The way I see it, the littoral states have been complete morons to drain their lakes and channel their water sources to attempt to re-flood the water way. There is no way to do that now. What they should have done earlier was to have stopped these opportunists from stripping them of their resources in exchange for more "returns".

Any system that is overrun by human greed ought to be punished. If the righteous and the honest (and perhaps too the timid) are not complaining here, why should people who have made their lives so miserable be complaining?

Why should anyone bail out your poorly performing investments? Everyone who invests should know the risk they are taking. Ignorance is not an acceptable defence.

Don't expect anyone to bail you out. No one has the moral obligation to do so. Even if they could, they should not. After all, did you spread your wealth around when we were in the heights of your pillaging?

I take little comfort to be in a position like this. But I do know that when you play big, be ready to lose big. And take it like a big boy.

The (Bad) Writing on the Wall

Reluctantly, when all else have lost the ability to bring another round of oohs and aahs after the rush of yet another over the top euphoria at the exchange, the hidden weapon was unleashed.

It was the last thing the phobic leaders wanted to do. To unlease this device could mean dependence on it for a long time. The leaders fear silence on the Street as people flock to enDow their Jones.

Different genes, different sizes. Some countries offer the weenies, while others, the FTSEs. Others like theirs Hang Seng while some, like TW, like them Weighted. Some are so SET in their ways that bootleg KOSPIs (copies) of the magic wand have reared their ugly heads.

Still, to keep the XDAX in NASDAQ, the ultimate comfort weapon, the cash d*ldo had to be taken out from the deepest recesses of the bank vaults of the various central banks. These used to be the singular weapon of pleasure for the you-know-who but now it has to be shared among everyone because there is a sense hanging in the air that with equal misery come equal pleasure. Or so we hope.

Unfortunately, time will prove once again that the ultimate weapon would be shoved up the wrong hole.

Lost in Translation

Picked up the book in the library and since we are at the topic of bad writing...

Hotel notices often provide lots of gaffes.

Notice in Seoul Hotel:
Choose twin bed or marriage size; we regret no King Kong size.

In an Italian hotel, signs by the bell:
If service is required, give two strokes to the maid and three to the waiter.
It is kindly requested from our guests that they avoid dirting and doing rumours in the rooms.
Hot and cold water running up and down the stairs.

Notice by a phone, Amsterdam, the Netherlands:
Telephone instructions can be found on the backside.

Guangdong, China:
We serve you with hostiality.

Hotel rate card in Chiang Mai, Thailand:
Extra Bad - 150 baht.

Serbia:
The flattening of underwear with pleasure is the job of the chambermaid. Turn to her straightaway.

Japan:
Depositing the room key into another person is prohibited.

How do you know hotels are really fire-safe?

London, UK:
All fire extinguishers must be examined at least five days before any fire.

Other than the hotels, road signs and driving instructions can leave you in stitches too.

In a Japanese taxi:
Safety first.
Please put on your seatbelt.
Prepare for accident.

Solvent sold in Finland for unfreezing car locks:
Super piss.

At a motoring event on the French Riviera:
Competitors will defile themselves on the promenade at 11 a.m., and each car will have two drivers who will relieve themselves at each other's convenience.

Sticker on the windscreen of Japanese sports car:
OFFRIMITS

Indeed, the difficulty of the language seems to have made many of these signs off limits to the ordinary reader.

In the officer of a doctor in Rome, Italy:
Specialist in women and other diseases.

On a Taiwanese shampoo:
Use repeatedly for severe damage.

German skin cream:
Cream Shower for pretentious skin.

Restaurants have some interesting food too:

Greek menu:
Spleen omelet, fisherman's crap soup, calf pluck, bowels.

Dessert in Japan:
Strawberry crap.

And in Europe:
Sweat from the trolley.

Some after dinner drinks?

India:
Our establishments serves tea in a bag like mother.

But many times, such fun is not restricted to food:

Paris, France:
We serve five o'clock tea at all hours.

Tokyo, Japan:
Please do not bring outside food excluding children under five.

Picture captions, signs and brochures can also be cause for tragedy.

Of a London Routemaster Bus:
Double dicker.

On a Vietnamese boat:
Nobody is allowed to site on both sides of the boat.

On a Japanese tourist brochure:
Shitseeing Bus Stop.

There are some odds and ends which take the cake:

Notes of meeting in the European Commission:
The chairman called the meeting to order and asked if there were any matters to discuss under the table.

In a Hong Kong store, advertising a final clearance:
Anal Clearance

... in Japan:
Beat the price off!

Separately, some personal issues can take centrestage with hilarious effects:

Oklahoma Cirt, USA:
No dumping - trespassers will be violated.

Financial institution in Detroit, USA:
Ask about our plans for owning your home.

And why would anyone name buildings like the Thais:
TIT Tower and PMT Mansions

Japanese graffiti:
FACK YOU MAN

Some CV mishaps:
My intensity and focusare at inordinately high levels and my ability to complete projects on time is unspeakable.

Education: Curses in liberal arts, curses in computer science, curses in accounting.

I am a rabid typist.

Personal interests: Donating blood. Fourteen gallons so far.

Wholly responsible for two (2) failed financial institutions.

Reason for leaving last job: maturity leave.

Let's meet, so you can ooh and aah over my experience.

Finally, allow me to invite you to the resort at Iguaco Falls on the border between Argentina and Paraguay to chill:
We offer you peace and seclusion. The paths to our resort are only passably by asses. Therefore, you will certainly feel at home here.

Don't forget to carry your pork handbag (Jordan) and I'll wait for you in the restaurant and bra (China) over a piping hot plate of Indonesian Nazi Goreng (HK) and a bowl of muscles of marines (Egypt). We'll pass the wine for our wine list leaves you nothing to hope for (Madrid). To make up, I'll get you the highly recommended hotel tart (Torremolinos).

Ta!

Bad writing samples

Professional ethics prevent me from uploading the exciting bits to cheer up your day. But allow me to find something to make up for it.

God of Immense Compassion

That must be me, for I survived grading 52 essays and after some moderation, no one failed (pending endorsement).

Crocodile

Oh my god! As I was taking a close look at the lyrics, I realised the two lines below:

I saw a boy on Oahu isle
Floatin' down the bay on a crocodile

I wonder if in the US, or Hawaii, crocodiles are also used as a slang to describe flamboyant playboys.

I noticed this because this is what Malays and Peranakans use to describe lascivious guys - you know, the buaya.

In my Hokkien tongue, crocodile is used to describe people with thick hide and are shameless.

Invitation open to all who want to tell me the significance of word "crocodile" in their culture?

Pineapple Princess

This was apparently #10 in some top 10 song list this week in 1960. (Thank you, TF.)






Annette Funicello - Pineapple Princess Lyrics

CHORUS
"Pineapple princess", he calls me pineapple princess all day
As he plays his ukulele on the hill above the bay
"Pineapple princess, I love you, you're the sweetest girl I've seen"
"Some day we're gonna marry and you'll be my pineapple queen"

I saw a boy on Oahu isle
Floatin' down the bay on a crocodile
He waved at me and he swam ashore
And I knew he'd be mine forevermore

CHORUS

He sings his song from banana trees
He even sings to me on his water skis
We went skin-divin' and beneath the blue
He sang and played his ukulele, too

"Pineapple princess", I love you, you're the sweetest girl I've seen
"Some day we're gonna marry and you'll be my pineapple queen"

We'll settle down in a bamboo hut
And he will be my own little coconut
Then we'll be beachcombin' royalty
On wicky-wicky wacky Waikiki

CHORUS

I thought the singer had coconut shell bras, a garland on her head and wore straw skirts. I may not be far from wrong... (The coconut shell bras are henceforth dedicated to Old Whig.)

Round 3: ???

I wait and see how things will turn out.

Without a doubt, there could be a slight technical rebound of the sharemarkets, before investors realise that the $700 billion rescue package is but a drop in the vast ocean.

Lacking direction, commonsense, guts and gumption, the confused markets will drift aimlessly, shedding points like an old cat shedding its coat.

Hopefully, I'll be able to pick some good counters up so that when the next boom comes around - likely to be on sub-subprime, this time - I can cash out and get me a nice little condo.

Fat hope is also hope. Or so fat hopes.

Round 2: Commonsense 0 Greed + Fear + Stupidity 1

It had to happen.

I'm expecting it, anyway, the bailout.

Now watch the financial inferno implode.

Round 1: Commonsense 1 Greed 0

Commonsense prevailed.

Sanity prevailed.

Congress voted off the US$700 billion salvation package.

Those who lived within their means are saved.

Now watch the greedy ones.

Muahahaha.....

"I'm here so that, hopefully, I can have a good tea"

A friend was "invited" to attend a timeshare presentation. He was enticed with lots of gifts, such as free hotel stay, online vouchers, and cruises, for attending the session. I tagged along because I really want to update myself on the cupidicious behaviour of these marketeers, or if you would indulge me, profiteering chalatans.

(Another reason was the fact that I needed to vent after having marked Assignment One and knowing that Assignment Two was coming in on Monday. But this was not the main reason.)

At the door, my friend was asked to register and I had to be registered as well. I pulled my friend aside and told him to report his salary as half of what he was receiving now. I had asked him to go for the lowest option but he thought it was not realistic.

For me, I wrote "unemployed" for my occupation and was dressed for my role. He then submitted the form.

Then I told my friend that I had prepared my speech in case the con asked me what I was there for.

"You see, I'm unemployed. Since my friend was invited here for a presentation at this time, I hope that if I'm here, hopefully, I can have a good tea."

My friend, of course, nearly flipped when he heard this. Then he asked me to go easy and not say anything if we were invited to the presentation.

In less than 3 minutes after the form was submitted, the receptionist called him and handed him the vouchers for the gifts, with the message that we did not have to sit through the presentation as the con-sultant was very busy.

See? We portray ourselves as paupers and we got off with the gifts without any time wasted. They must be kicking themselves for not doing their market survey properly.

Me? Have you heard the maniacal laughter of a genius in the lift down from the penthouse of the Rolex Building to the ground floor? Priceless!

Overcrowded Buffet

Went to a buffet last Saturday. Ok, I know this is dated but you can see that I've given it a long enough cool-down time so that I do not seem writing like a ranting lunatic.

The buffet was handling more diners than its only chef can manage. At no time were all the trays filled and more often than not, when a new tray of food came out, you'd better be hawk-eyed and home in on the tray because the food will be wiped out by the time the fifth diner in the queue hits the tray. This is no surprise as people who manage to get to the food has to take for their group or the rest would not get any. And given that the food put out was of such small quantities (how could two braised ducks feed 100, for example), there is more certainty that the food would run out!

After a good half-an-hour, I decided to speak with the manager over the unacceptable food situation. I've hardly managed to get anything! I had had to scrape the bottom of the porridge pot to get the porridge trapped in the corners so that I can get anything at all to eat.

The waitress told me the manager does not work evenings. After that, she came back and asked if I had anything to speak with the manager, since I asked to see him. So I told her that the food situation was not ideal. I also asked if the supervisor was around. She said she would get him.

We waited for the supervisor but to no avail. A couple trays of food came and were emptied out even before I manage to reach them. I made many trips to the buffet line, only to be greeted by empty trays. Soon, some soy sauce braised chicken appeared. I was third in line and so I took a number of pieces of chicken with blood oozing out back to the table.

I sliced the pieces and let the blood spill over the plate. Raw chicken is unfit to serve because it poses a salmonella risk. So this time, I called for the bill. When the bill arrived, I said I would pay after I speak with the supervisor.

Over I outlined my unhappiness over the situation to the supervisor; I told him of my other wonderful visits and how that night, they over-stretched themselves. I suggested that they should either turn away walk-ins, since they are already unable to cater to those who are there on group meals, or place a note at the entrance to say that they will be slow in replenishing food (though they hadn't been fast, anyway). I also complained about the "raw" chicken. The supervisor had the cheek to tell me that the raw chicken issue was a perennial one and the chef is aware. He then asked me to tell the chef about the complaint myself.

"This is your admin matter and it is not for the guest to tell the chef!" I retorted. "Anyway, what can you do to make up for the evening?"

"I can give you a discount of 10%."

"What can a discount of 10% do? I hardly got food to eat and I spent almost two hours on a simple 45 minute meal!"

"I can't do anything else. At my level, that's the most I can do. I'll call the chef."

"Please."

The table of 5 beside ours watched intently for sparks and fireworks. They were expecting to see what would happen in the end. But I had guts and gumption. They don't even have half as much brain as one hair on my leg!

Before long, the chef came out and after another round of the same discussion points, the chef went, "So, did the supervisor offer you anything?"

"Yeah. 10%, but what is 10%?" I really questioned the sincerity of the offer.

"So you want me to sign on your bill? I can sign on your bill. You want me to sign on your bill? I can do that..."

"That'll be nice. Thank you."

Knowing that he had erred in his judgement, he stormed off and took care of the bill with us as his "guests".

Moral of story: Having only one chef spoils the entire buffet.

Why disasters are good for us

Too often, people are lulled into complacency when things go as planned. People take comfort afforded by the relative calm and, by and large, believe that if nothing is on fire, then everything is fine. Many people go by the adage, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Unknown to many people, things may not be "broke" at the moment but there could be people who are trying to "enhance" the "ain't-ness" by tampering with the products. For each and every expose that shows who the real bad guys are, I am pretty certain that there are many other heinous acts that have gone unnoticed. All too often, to be constantly on our toes to monitor the entire market is untenable because of the massive effort required. However, if we need a shake-up quickly, a disaster may be the best option because of its wide-ranging impact.

Disasters in aviation lead the way in showing how a slip-up can shake up an entire industry. One does not have to look far to realise that the ultimate outcome of aviation disasters was a much safer flying environment for travellers. From zero, investigators learnt about metal fatigue, autopilot limitations, aircraft limitations, pilot training manual mistakes, substitution (of parts) problems, wind shear, bird strikes and so on. Each and every disaster precipitated immediate rounds of aircraft checks and aviation practices reviews. It forces industry players to review and propose new updates, changes, training checks, flight safety improvements and most importantly, renew their respect for human lives in the knowledge that human beings are ultimately at the mercy of the equipment they create. Who would have expected, for one, that the black box on the aircraft is given more protection than the pilot and the passengers?

Similarly, the recent Sichuan Earthquake showed us that Chinese engineers have achieved a world's first in civil engineering - they managed to use "soy pulp" (aka toufu zha) to build houses. The race to trace the history of this practice has led to an ongoing review of the building codes in the region. People are concerned how they could be sold such houses and how public buildings such as schools could also be built in this way with such material. People around the world wonder how such houses are built too. But I am also rather sure that engineers in regions that are immune to earthquakes must also be reviewing their bulding codes - do they really need to reinforce their concrete beams and piles with steel rods since the Chinese have showed that under non-earthquake circumstances, these are not necessary? Some people may be able to get cheaper soy pulp houses in the near future.

People living in the hurricane/typhoon zones and tornado-afflicted areas may especially be interested in these kinds of houses. Imagine, you get soya milk after the disaster. You will be swimming in soya milk! And think of all the benefits that you get from these houses - people get crushed to death by concrete beams and pillars. But do you see or hear of people crushed to death by tofu pulp? No! These people are buried because they added concrete to reinforce their pulp. See? The moral of the story here is not to be too smart!

Talking about additives, the latest melamine additive scandal hit the Chinese dairy market right in the balls, I mean bull's eye. The practice was aimed at "showing" a higher nutritional value of the milk during its decomposition through the emission of more nitrogen, a measure of milk with higher nutritional value. Of course, many of us would have realised that the milk is so nutritious that Chinese, Hong Kong and other babies taking them have ended up with kidney stones. And some of them were so over-nourished, they died. The whole world and China are now looking to check if there are other melamine enhanced milk or related products. Looking back, I do not recall steriods killing that many people, even though WWE wrestler Chris Benoit's death did raise a hue and cry in the North American media. By the way, it was the Chinese media leaking the story of the tainted milk (how I hate the English term; the Chinese call it du-nai, which sounds like tonigh(t)) that led to the expose of this latest scandal; had it not for them, Chinese Dairy apparently would have kept quiet about the entire issue. But how does one add melamine to milk? Imagine melamine is what my chopsticks are made of. How could anyone add that to food? And is it in solid or liquid form? Or did the farmers rub melamine to cow udders to promote milk growth? Or maybe it is injected to make the udders harder so milking can take place more often? Sigh, to quote my favourite "philosopher" from beside Down Under, "I really don't know". Oh, it's the male, not the female, though he has threatened the hanky act too! I wonder what's with the southern hemisphere folks and their handkerchiefs.

Disasters are usually broadcast by the media. In at least one case, I am sure the media has a hand in - the recent Wall Street meltdown. Yes, I blame the media. The media has been guilty of not calling it when they had the ability to. While earning big bucks for themselves is important, the media should blow the whistle when they see the obscene subprime rape. They did not; there was defintely insufficient media expose - isn't that their job - of the issue and I wonder who the guy was who short-sold Lehman until the brothers lost their shirts of their backs. Maybe one day, time (or maybe Time) will tell. I am pretty sure that that story will sell for many bucks. I cannot wait to learn more about the guy who changed Wall Street's landscape. (I am sure many investors are cursing me now, after seeing their investments crash into the proverbial wall! Oh yes, I think some Walls' ice-cream is also being recalled for having used tainted milk.)

As my examples show so far, the world loves a disaster. Diana died - disaster. Mother Theresa died - disaster. Michael Jackson's nose collapsed - disaster. Pope dropped dead - disaster. Hurricane Katrina struck - disaster. 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami - disaster. George Bush got elected for a second term - disaster. Al Gore didn't win - disaster. September 11 - disaster. Sichuan Earthquake - disaster. Hurricane Ike - disaster. Obama wins - disaster. McCain wins - disaster. AIG collapes - disaster. AIG saved - disaster. Marking assignments - disaster. So what's new? What is not a disaster these days?

With the spate of "disasters" now, everything is being checked and rechecked. People are suspicious of everything. You know what is truly a disaster? I received a free - yeah, FREE! - packet of chocolate hazelnut bars in my pigeon hole courtesy of the welfare committee where I work. The first thing I did, I read the packaging from the first word to the last trying to see if the word China appeared anywhere. Or tainted milk. I'd eaten the thing without a second thought in the past.

I think I'll let the rest eat first. If they don't die...

PS. I won't be held responsible for anyone attempting the "Chinese Building Feat - the Soy Pulp Building Method" because it is more an analogy of their concrete being non-reinforced rather than literally being a soy pulp structure. That, would have been a tremendous eye popper!