The sun will come up tomorrow
Bet your bottom penny on tomorrow
There'll be sun...
The opening lines of Tomorrow from the Broadway musical Annie rang in my ears as I watched 2012. The satire - political and religious - is not lost on me. More than a satire, 2012 was a CGI slug fest. I bet many of the destruction scenes were farmed out to many different teams to see who can create the best effect for the complete distortion of earth's crust.
The movie aside, this blogger wants to lament a huge problem if Armageddon will indeed be in 2012. It's chronologically too far away! There is way too much time and I wish 2012 were tomorrow!
I bet I will look at this post as I remininsce in 2012 and bitch about why the end never came. Or perhaps I'm already in some better place.
Science fiction movies and TV shows suffer from predictability, which makes them easily to watch. Essentially brainless time killers, I call them. They are quite unlike shows such as... Hm. Many shows are predictable. And there are enough simulations of how the world would end. The interesting question is this: How would what we do change anything? After all, we are doomed biblically. We are not doomed scientifically.
Apart from 2012, I also watched the two-part TV series, Meteor. It showed how a smaller meteor broke up a larger one when they collided and both pieces from the larger meteor hurtled towards earth, guaranteeing some gruelsome end for mankind.
Expectedly, Earth was saved by some brilliant scientist's assistant who only found out about the problems with her equation solving techniques after she gave the answer. Honestly, the show was so boring the writers tried to jazz it up with a few subplots. However, the subplots bombed too. Regardless, the contriteness of setting a science fiction series in 2009 is... well, contrite. It's not something that is going to happen.
My main thought after these shows is "why aren't these events happening yet?" And if these events were happening, would anything change? If so, what?
And if we know what needs to be changed, then why are we not doing it?
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
China Stakes Claim on Santa
Lavender Food Court, SINGAPORE - A China-born Singapore-based foreign talent explains today the genesis of Santa Claus.
According to the Chinese legend, "Sheng Dan Lao Ren", or old man Santa as we know him today, was a homeless old man in China who was so overcome by the cold one winter that every thing on him shrank, except (his) "eggs" (sheng dan).
- Fishy Slippery (Xin Hua) News Agency
According to the Chinese legend, "Sheng Dan Lao Ren", or old man Santa as we know him today, was a homeless old man in China who was so overcome by the cold one winter that every thing on him shrank, except (his) "eggs" (sheng dan).
- Fishy Slippery (Xin Hua) News Agency
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Global Warming
Shouldn't people be celebrating?
Finally, the world is warming up to our presence. We used to bemoan the cold and how much coal we needed to burn to keep warm. Now? No such worries.
Copenhagen - Hopenhagen - Nopenhagen has now become an international laughing stock: Copenhahahagen.
I cannot believe people buy into this crap such as global warming. Look all around you and ask yourself if the green activists are green at all.
If humans used, ate, hunted, killed anything to extinction, then humans will just have to find something else to use, eat, hunt, kill. Why try to change a behaviour that is not ready to be changed?
If most humans don't care, then why even care?
When Al Gore dashes to speak at those conferences, how did he travel? How much was he paid? And for those slides that he made, how did he make them? You see, you can't get shocking pictures without commissioning them. And when you do commission such pictures to be taken, people need to get on location, stake out at location, wait for things to happen, capture the footage, edit and work on the captured footage and so on.
When you calculate the total cost of making An Inconvenient Truth, the convenient truth is that a good number of hungry people may be fed a few meals. Why should people watch the show when they should rightly channel the funds to the same hungry people who need food?
I should stop bitching about this. If they knew the error of their ways and were willing to face it, I don't have to sit here and condemn these environmental hypocrites.
Finally, the world is warming up to our presence. We used to bemoan the cold and how much coal we needed to burn to keep warm. Now? No such worries.
Copenhagen - Hopenhagen - Nopenhagen has now become an international laughing stock: Copenhahahagen.
I cannot believe people buy into this crap such as global warming. Look all around you and ask yourself if the green activists are green at all.
If humans used, ate, hunted, killed anything to extinction, then humans will just have to find something else to use, eat, hunt, kill. Why try to change a behaviour that is not ready to be changed?
If most humans don't care, then why even care?
When Al Gore dashes to speak at those conferences, how did he travel? How much was he paid? And for those slides that he made, how did he make them? You see, you can't get shocking pictures without commissioning them. And when you do commission such pictures to be taken, people need to get on location, stake out at location, wait for things to happen, capture the footage, edit and work on the captured footage and so on.
When you calculate the total cost of making An Inconvenient Truth, the convenient truth is that a good number of hungry people may be fed a few meals. Why should people watch the show when they should rightly channel the funds to the same hungry people who need food?
I should stop bitching about this. If they knew the error of their ways and were willing to face it, I don't have to sit here and condemn these environmental hypocrites.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Life just got harder
Went to my usual bakery to score some cheap bread at the end of the business day where it gives a discount to dispose of the day-old buns.
I was shocked to see that the bakery has radically repackaged its bread and totally reinvented its offerings of buns.
Whereas in the past, one could get a pack of 6 small buns at a discount price of $1.20 (U.P. $1.60 - $2.50), what I saw today were packets of 4 slightly larger buns at the same price. However, the 4 buns were lesser in quantity (about 70%) compared to the usual buns. Similarly, one could get a medium savoury or sweet bun at a discount price of 50 cents (80 cents), they have increased the bun size by about 30% and are selling them at $2.50 for 3 buns (U.P. $1 - $1.40).
Needless to say, life has just gotten harder for the folks.
Whereas in the past, a family of four might be able to subsist on a pack of 6 small buns, there isn't enough to spread the new 4-bun packet around now. The kids might get a slightly more substantial breakfast but the adults are definitely not going to have enough. If the family had to buy two packets of the buns because they can't buy 1.5 packets, the average cost would have been driven up by 60 cents, representing a 50% increase.
For folks like me who prefer to have larger buns, my usual breakfast consists of 2 medium buns. That would be $1. Now with the new buns, 2 buns are too substantial while 1 bun is not quite enough. In any case, even if I were to go for a 1.5 bun solution, my costs have also risen by about 25%.
Many retired contract workers like me do not get a pay raise. However, our cost of living could be spiked by 50% just overnight. Such surprises are really nasty and bone chilling.
If I might be a little vulgar, it seems life has become harder than a viagra-induced hard-on. But unlike the latter, life isn't going to get softer afterwards.
If I might share what I saw today at the bakery - there was a drop in the number of customers, easily a 70% drop, and there were many people looking at the new buns and calculating costs in their hearts. Some walked away without buying. Bread is staple for Singaporeans and yet, with such a drastic move, many might soon have to give up even their daily bread.
I was shocked to see that the bakery has radically repackaged its bread and totally reinvented its offerings of buns.
Whereas in the past, one could get a pack of 6 small buns at a discount price of $1.20 (U.P. $1.60 - $2.50), what I saw today were packets of 4 slightly larger buns at the same price. However, the 4 buns were lesser in quantity (about 70%) compared to the usual buns. Similarly, one could get a medium savoury or sweet bun at a discount price of 50 cents (80 cents), they have increased the bun size by about 30% and are selling them at $2.50 for 3 buns (U.P. $1 - $1.40).
Needless to say, life has just gotten harder for the folks.
Whereas in the past, a family of four might be able to subsist on a pack of 6 small buns, there isn't enough to spread the new 4-bun packet around now. The kids might get a slightly more substantial breakfast but the adults are definitely not going to have enough. If the family had to buy two packets of the buns because they can't buy 1.5 packets, the average cost would have been driven up by 60 cents, representing a 50% increase.
For folks like me who prefer to have larger buns, my usual breakfast consists of 2 medium buns. That would be $1. Now with the new buns, 2 buns are too substantial while 1 bun is not quite enough. In any case, even if I were to go for a 1.5 bun solution, my costs have also risen by about 25%.
Many retired contract workers like me do not get a pay raise. However, our cost of living could be spiked by 50% just overnight. Such surprises are really nasty and bone chilling.
If I might be a little vulgar, it seems life has become harder than a viagra-induced hard-on. But unlike the latter, life isn't going to get softer afterwards.
If I might share what I saw today at the bakery - there was a drop in the number of customers, easily a 70% drop, and there were many people looking at the new buns and calculating costs in their hearts. Some walked away without buying. Bread is staple for Singaporeans and yet, with such a drastic move, many might soon have to give up even their daily bread.
Fundamental Mistakes 3
Recently a UN Report found that slower population growth could help with our environmental woes.
Almost a decade ago, when Singapore was in the midst of coming up with baby bonuses to encourage married women to give birth, I expressed the same view. I believe that Singaporeans were doing the right thing to save Gaia by not giving birth.
What did we do? We imported ready people and they gave birth.
Go figure.
Almost a decade ago, when Singapore was in the midst of coming up with baby bonuses to encourage married women to give birth, I expressed the same view. I believe that Singaporeans were doing the right thing to save Gaia by not giving birth.
What did we do? We imported ready people and they gave birth.
Go figure.
Fundamental Mistakes 2
Longevity is not a desirable result of medical advancements. Instead, extending the human lifespan is the probably worst mistake that medical science have made for several reasons. First, humans should not tamper with nature. We have a life expectancy of around 60 years for a reason. Second, longevity comes at the end of a person's lifespan and not in the middle. Society has not managed to adapt to the new needs of the modern human-turtles. Third, medical measures have not moved with the times. Many of the health indicators are still based on data gleaned from my great-grandfathers' generation.
Human life expectancy is determined by the surroundings that a person is in. Where there is poor sanitation and malnutrition, people live shorter lives but while they are alive, they give birth to more babies. Where there is good sanitation and abundance of food, people live relatively longeer lives but they may decide to have fewer babies but instead invest more heavily on developing them. Such is the nature of natural selection.
What we have done now is to extend life years beyond accepted norms through medical intervention. Human lives are extended beyond their actual use by dates. Transplants, surgeries, vaccines and other interventionist measures have helped humans live longer. However, such a move runs counter to what nature intends for humans.
A certain amount of attrition along the human life cycle is necessary so that the larger Earth environment can be in equilibrium with the human population. What is happening now seems to be that the environment is strained because not enough deaths are happening. This is disastrous to Earth, especially when the increase in the life expectancy actually cause the older folks to strain on the younger folks, rather than make them contribute towards alleviating themselves as the burden on others.
This development is marked in the way society fails to move in tandem with increases in life spans. Even until now, with the average Singaporean gaining 15 years of life over the past generation, the Singaporean society has just increased retirement ages in baby steps from 55 to 57 to 60 to 62. Even then, raising the retirement ages have met with stiff resistance from both companies and workers alike.
One cannot really fault the companies for not willing to hire the overpaid, underperforming old fogies. The labour movement recently coined the term, "Cheap, fast and good," to spur the Singapore workforce to bounce back and become leaner, more productive and deliver higher quality products after emerging from the financial crisis. Think about it, how could we keep the old folks cheaply? We make them retire and then rehire them on contracts at reduced salaries. How can we make them fast? We move them down the job ladder because they should take on less responsibilities to justify their lower pay. Hopefully, they can keep up with the quick march that the companies demand of their younger colleagues in the lesser jobs. How can they be good? This is up to the management to decide and one litmus test is the renewal of their employment contracts.
Age increases have not been kind to the people, since the economically productive years have not risen in tandem with longevity. It is not a surprise, however, since the human body is designed to deteriorate and eventually self-destruct once it peaks at between 18 and 21 years of age. We have not managed to unlock the mystery to keep the body well-oiled and highly functional. We have only managed to stop the body from finding the self-destruct button fast enough. And perhaps we have also managed to find certain restart buttons to help the human body run a while longer on extra or borrowed time. And such times are often at the end of the human lifespan, where the body is no more than a mere vessel to keep the soul in.
Such a sorry state of development brings about certain questions that bear rethinking. For instance, have biologists barked up the wrong tree? Who insisted that longevity was the only acceptable measure of medical advances? What about higher weights, taller heights, higher blood pressure, higher cholesterol levels, higher liver enzyme levels, higher blood lipid levels, lower bone densities, higher IQ, fewer neonatal illnesses, lower infant death rates, among other measures?
I have just thought about how I am considered way off the charts for certain measures when my indices are compared against charts applicable to my great-great-great-great-grandfather. I could be thin like my ancestor too. I can have my blood pressure, cholesterol and what not, all lowered till I meet the indices left behind by my ancestor. However, that would mean that I might have to spend 6 to 8 hours of my waking time exercising in a gym to simulate the living style of my agricultural ancestor. My great-great-great-great-grandfather probably spent his waking hours foraging or growing crops, moving around on his feet at all times. He may or may not get enough to eat - he probably did get enough to eat, so much so that he passed on a copy of the fat gene, which I inherited.
Take a step back and think about it. If I had to spend most of my waking hours exercising, then I would never have been able to push papers as a bureaucrat or lecture in an airconditioned classroom and sit down and exercise ONLY my brain to grade papers.
My lifestyle is entirely different from my ancestors'. How then can I be measured against those indices? And if I could, then how can I contribute anything at all to economic growth?
It probably does not take a rocket scientist to realise that there is a huge contradiction here but why do we still indulge ourselves that what we are looking at is the truth? It is not, because the earth is telling us that we have got it all messed up. And it is a big time mess up.
Honestly, I am not at all happy to have to pay for the collective human stupidity. I will eat all the meat I want, all the eggs I want and all the food I want. And since I get to have it, I will use all the medical services I need. Until one day the powers that be come to their senses, an ordinary man like me should just live out each day like it's his last day on earth.
Who knows? It just might be.
Human life expectancy is determined by the surroundings that a person is in. Where there is poor sanitation and malnutrition, people live shorter lives but while they are alive, they give birth to more babies. Where there is good sanitation and abundance of food, people live relatively longeer lives but they may decide to have fewer babies but instead invest more heavily on developing them. Such is the nature of natural selection.
What we have done now is to extend life years beyond accepted norms through medical intervention. Human lives are extended beyond their actual use by dates. Transplants, surgeries, vaccines and other interventionist measures have helped humans live longer. However, such a move runs counter to what nature intends for humans.
A certain amount of attrition along the human life cycle is necessary so that the larger Earth environment can be in equilibrium with the human population. What is happening now seems to be that the environment is strained because not enough deaths are happening. This is disastrous to Earth, especially when the increase in the life expectancy actually cause the older folks to strain on the younger folks, rather than make them contribute towards alleviating themselves as the burden on others.
This development is marked in the way society fails to move in tandem with increases in life spans. Even until now, with the average Singaporean gaining 15 years of life over the past generation, the Singaporean society has just increased retirement ages in baby steps from 55 to 57 to 60 to 62. Even then, raising the retirement ages have met with stiff resistance from both companies and workers alike.
One cannot really fault the companies for not willing to hire the overpaid, underperforming old fogies. The labour movement recently coined the term, "Cheap, fast and good," to spur the Singapore workforce to bounce back and become leaner, more productive and deliver higher quality products after emerging from the financial crisis. Think about it, how could we keep the old folks cheaply? We make them retire and then rehire them on contracts at reduced salaries. How can we make them fast? We move them down the job ladder because they should take on less responsibilities to justify their lower pay. Hopefully, they can keep up with the quick march that the companies demand of their younger colleagues in the lesser jobs. How can they be good? This is up to the management to decide and one litmus test is the renewal of their employment contracts.
Age increases have not been kind to the people, since the economically productive years have not risen in tandem with longevity. It is not a surprise, however, since the human body is designed to deteriorate and eventually self-destruct once it peaks at between 18 and 21 years of age. We have not managed to unlock the mystery to keep the body well-oiled and highly functional. We have only managed to stop the body from finding the self-destruct button fast enough. And perhaps we have also managed to find certain restart buttons to help the human body run a while longer on extra or borrowed time. And such times are often at the end of the human lifespan, where the body is no more than a mere vessel to keep the soul in.
Such a sorry state of development brings about certain questions that bear rethinking. For instance, have biologists barked up the wrong tree? Who insisted that longevity was the only acceptable measure of medical advances? What about higher weights, taller heights, higher blood pressure, higher cholesterol levels, higher liver enzyme levels, higher blood lipid levels, lower bone densities, higher IQ, fewer neonatal illnesses, lower infant death rates, among other measures?
I have just thought about how I am considered way off the charts for certain measures when my indices are compared against charts applicable to my great-great-great-great-grandfather. I could be thin like my ancestor too. I can have my blood pressure, cholesterol and what not, all lowered till I meet the indices left behind by my ancestor. However, that would mean that I might have to spend 6 to 8 hours of my waking time exercising in a gym to simulate the living style of my agricultural ancestor. My great-great-great-great-grandfather probably spent his waking hours foraging or growing crops, moving around on his feet at all times. He may or may not get enough to eat - he probably did get enough to eat, so much so that he passed on a copy of the fat gene, which I inherited.
Take a step back and think about it. If I had to spend most of my waking hours exercising, then I would never have been able to push papers as a bureaucrat or lecture in an airconditioned classroom and sit down and exercise ONLY my brain to grade papers.
My lifestyle is entirely different from my ancestors'. How then can I be measured against those indices? And if I could, then how can I contribute anything at all to economic growth?
It probably does not take a rocket scientist to realise that there is a huge contradiction here but why do we still indulge ourselves that what we are looking at is the truth? It is not, because the earth is telling us that we have got it all messed up. And it is a big time mess up.
Honestly, I am not at all happy to have to pay for the collective human stupidity. I will eat all the meat I want, all the eggs I want and all the food I want. And since I get to have it, I will use all the medical services I need. Until one day the powers that be come to their senses, an ordinary man like me should just live out each day like it's his last day on earth.
Who knows? It just might be.
Fundamental Mistakes 1
The climate crisis will never go away until we realise that a consumption driven economic growth model comes at a price. If the only way to grow is through consumption, then there will come one day where there isn't anything left to consume.
Just take one simple example: How many cars can you own before you run out of metal, oil, roads, commonsense?
Just take one simple example: How many cars can you own before you run out of metal, oil, roads, commonsense?
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Whatever you can do (tha)i can do better...
Pity the waste - all that make up, plastic surgeries, choreographies and all.
Just see how the Thai school boys do it!
Just see how the Thai school boys do it!
First they loop you in...
Tried changing the password to my credit card last night.
I managed to get past the first screen where I was asked my password. It was a new card and I forgot the password but I tried.
I cleared hurdle 1. Then I asked to change the password. I failed hurdle 2 - enter the old password - twice because I tried it twice. I wasn't sure of the number because the card's new, remember?
Still, I wonder if I had asked for a $1,000.00 cash advance, would I be successful? Especially since I cleared hurdle 1...
I'm not sure I trust technology these days.
I managed to get past the first screen where I was asked my password. It was a new card and I forgot the password but I tried.
I cleared hurdle 1. Then I asked to change the password. I failed hurdle 2 - enter the old password - twice because I tried it twice. I wasn't sure of the number because the card's new, remember?
Still, I wonder if I had asked for a $1,000.00 cash advance, would I be successful? Especially since I cleared hurdle 1...
I'm not sure I trust technology these days.
You can't fly!
Never mind what you think.
How does one expect to cross a 5 lane junction with 6 seconds on the count down timer on the green man?
How does one expect to do it when one is a plump woman who thinks if she takes what she thinks are big strides, she'll take off like an Airbus 380?
How does one expect to cross a 5 lane junction with 6 seconds on the count down timer on the green man?
How does one expect to do it when one is a plump woman who thinks if she takes what she thinks are big strides, she'll take off like an Airbus 380?
Sunday, December 06, 2009
The Damage Begins Here...
Is it me or am I not alone in feeling that one's head damage begins as one navigates the graduate school application process?
The applications - hitherto - do not seem to be going anywhere and there isn't even the faintest hint of any success. When the deadline descends upon you, you simply send in whatever draft version you have, never mind the draft was sitting there since a week ago.
I think it feels so unlike being in the program already, where each word written is one word closer (I hope) to the finish line.
I'm not sure... but it sure as hell feels as though my brains are becoming dumber already.
The applications - hitherto - do not seem to be going anywhere and there isn't even the faintest hint of any success. When the deadline descends upon you, you simply send in whatever draft version you have, never mind the draft was sitting there since a week ago.
I think it feels so unlike being in the program already, where each word written is one word closer (I hope) to the finish line.
I'm not sure... but it sure as hell feels as though my brains are becoming dumber already.
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Then and Now
Four dozen of research papers later
Four dozen of grade reviews later
Four dozen of grade inflations later
Four dozen of application essay revisions later
Four dozen of CV reviews later
Four dozen of curry puffs later
Four dozen of cold green tea drinks later
Four dozen of TV watching hours later
Four dozen of course design and reviews later
Four dozen of excuses later
I'm here writing my next blog entry.
Things are in flux and nothing is slowing down. Fortunately my energy levels are keeping up.
The neck is very sore, possibly from missing the physio session and the heavy luggage lugging (from shuttling the "travellers"). I need to find four dozen... did I hear pain killers? Don't be a nutcase! I'll never kill myself. It's a waste of a life. If I have to die prematurely... Oh, you don't need to know the four dozen evil thoughts that go through my mind.
I'm feeling four dozen different emotions now and I'm going to a birthday party of someone two shy of four dozen years.
I think I'll just let my hair down a little this evening.
I hope to return to write something again within four dozen hours. Hope...
Four dozen of grade reviews later
Four dozen of grade inflations later
Four dozen of application essay revisions later
Four dozen of CV reviews later
Four dozen of curry puffs later
Four dozen of cold green tea drinks later
Four dozen of TV watching hours later
Four dozen of course design and reviews later
Four dozen of excuses later
I'm here writing my next blog entry.
Things are in flux and nothing is slowing down. Fortunately my energy levels are keeping up.
The neck is very sore, possibly from missing the physio session and the heavy luggage lugging (from shuttling the "travellers"). I need to find four dozen... did I hear pain killers? Don't be a nutcase! I'll never kill myself. It's a waste of a life. If I have to die prematurely... Oh, you don't need to know the four dozen evil thoughts that go through my mind.
I'm feeling four dozen different emotions now and I'm going to a birthday party of someone two shy of four dozen years.
I think I'll just let my hair down a little this evening.
I hope to return to write something again within four dozen hours. Hope...
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Punctilious Pitch
Yeah, it's pitch, not bitch. You didn't see wrongly.
See, someone told me to get on with my application and not seek perfection. She said I'm beginning to fret like her daughter over the application and freak out at every next thing I hear about what needs to go into the application.
I admit. I'm being extra careful here. I really want this badly and I am guilty as charged of trying to put in a write my statement of purpose and my personal statement using a punctilious pitch. I am fussy enough not to want to miss anything. At all!
I know the Pareto principle. I only wish I could say my statements are not critical. If I had test scores that were through the roof and a undergraduate GPA that is as high as my blood pressure and cholesterol combined, I'd... be dead by now? Well, I'm stressed up over the applications. There isn't a single waking moment that I wish I am not at the computer typing away and chipping these papers off. But guess what? When I am at the computer, I write a few lines and I decide I'm not ready to tackle them yet.
The deadline is not looming yet. And unfortunately, I tend to perform best under pressure. So, this is like the pre-deadline pressure build up period. It's not healthy and I wish I hadn't to do this. But it is my character, I guess.
University P wrote me yesterday and said my GRE scores were not reported yet. I immediately replied to say I've sent in the scores. I slept but didn't sleep well. P is my top choice university and the hell I wanna muck things up there. This morning, I received an email from P saying that they messed the record keeping due to conflicting first names. There, we Chinese know how to confuse in addition to convincing. Now, aren't you convinced you're confused? Heh!
It's a long road... and I intend to get to the destination soon.
See, someone told me to get on with my application and not seek perfection. She said I'm beginning to fret like her daughter over the application and freak out at every next thing I hear about what needs to go into the application.
I admit. I'm being extra careful here. I really want this badly and I am guilty as charged of trying to put in a write my statement of purpose and my personal statement using a punctilious pitch. I am fussy enough not to want to miss anything. At all!
I know the Pareto principle. I only wish I could say my statements are not critical. If I had test scores that were through the roof and a undergraduate GPA that is as high as my blood pressure and cholesterol combined, I'd... be dead by now? Well, I'm stressed up over the applications. There isn't a single waking moment that I wish I am not at the computer typing away and chipping these papers off. But guess what? When I am at the computer, I write a few lines and I decide I'm not ready to tackle them yet.
The deadline is not looming yet. And unfortunately, I tend to perform best under pressure. So, this is like the pre-deadline pressure build up period. It's not healthy and I wish I hadn't to do this. But it is my character, I guess.
University P wrote me yesterday and said my GRE scores were not reported yet. I immediately replied to say I've sent in the scores. I slept but didn't sleep well. P is my top choice university and the hell I wanna muck things up there. This morning, I received an email from P saying that they messed the record keeping due to conflicting first names. There, we Chinese know how to confuse in addition to convincing. Now, aren't you convinced you're confused? Heh!
It's a long road... and I intend to get to the destination soon.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Freaking Frustrated For F***?
I gave Four F grades, actually Five, but then after a thorough review and convincing myself that I have been too demanding in my grading, I reduced it to Four.
I am Freaking Frustrated. Did I teach so badly that my students did not manage to learn anything or have I expected too much from the knuckleheads who slipped past admissions this year?
I have people who make A grades and I also have people who end up with C grades. In fact, like the other two Assignments 2 in my earlier terms, the students are categorized into their respective mastery levels on this assignment and, thus, their likely end of course grades.
I am largely ok with a pigeon holing exercise. It is a course requirement that students have to be graded. But in the past terms I only had to deal with very few D grades; this term, I get a handful of F graders to manage. The bulgeoning C population is common for this assignment. It is a paper where one synthesizes two texts to support one's thesis statement. One either does the synthesis fully and correctly or one underdoes it. If one falls short at the synthesis, then the grades drop to the B range. If one falls short at the summaries (and, inevitably the synthesis thereafter), one drops to the C range. Poor writing will cause futher grade drops. My Fabulous F grades are, in all honesty, harder to get than an A grade. I am that certain, sure, confident and proud to say. I reward effort when writing falls short. But how does one reward a paper that is 25% short of the minimum page length? Or a paper that averages 10 mistakes per 8 line paragraph? Or a student who writes whatever s/he feels like writing, with scant regard for the rubric of the assignment?
I try very hard to reflect if it were my poor teaching that caused such a disaster. Well, it seemed like a disaster to me when I have to award Fs in this manner. Ok, let us assume that I taught badly. Then how do you explain the nearly half of the students who got A and B grades? They were spread across both my sections! And how do I explain the other nearly half of the students who got C grades, those who were already weak to begin with, as evidenced by their Assignment 1 performance? If I had taught badly, then surely the assignment question, having gone through a round of eyeballing by the course coordinator, would have explained clearly the demands of the assignment?
The reading packages and the remedial website resources would have also played their part in helping the lost sheep to find their way home. And what about my open email communication channel where they actually have direct access to me via my home email? My students even have my cell phone number, for f***'s sake!
Another consolation I have is the fact that I have assigned short writing pieces to the students for them to practise writing thesis statements, topic sentences and paragraphs. They were also required to use evidence from their reading articles to support their arguments. The marks the F graders received on those assignments are actually indicative of the students' real writing and reasoning abilities. Those fellows are the ones scoring 3 and 4 out of 10. And to not demoralise too much, I set a minimum score of 3 marks on all these short pieces. Any written sh*t would have gotten 3 marks if it were submitted.
On a related note, the fellows who bombed Assignment 2 are the intended recipients of my earlier email telling them of the importance of reading and coming to class prepared. I shouldn't have to or need to feel sorry for them.
The circumstantial evidence of my not having derelicted my duties is complete. I should feel vindicated. Still, I feel Freaking disappointed. A colleague told me to get rid of that "secondary school teacher" mentality in me. "Why should you care, Eugene?" he would ask. "They are already adults and if they are not bothered to get up to speed with the demands of university, why should you mother them?" Well said.
He is a dear friend of mine and he's been really helpful to me ever since I began teaching at that institution. I should lay down my burden and not labour under these rotten straws that threaten to break my back. I shall only help those who bother.
I shall push on and perhaps give a few F grades at the end of the course to the truly deserving. Perhaps Darwin's theory can take over and straighten out the population some...
Of course, Four rounds of reviews later, there are only two students who received F grades (pending confirmation). I'm almost certain my grade distribution will stand. The rest are upgraded but are given stern warnings to buck up.
I am Freaking Frustrated. Did I teach so badly that my students did not manage to learn anything or have I expected too much from the knuckleheads who slipped past admissions this year?
I have people who make A grades and I also have people who end up with C grades. In fact, like the other two Assignments 2 in my earlier terms, the students are categorized into their respective mastery levels on this assignment and, thus, their likely end of course grades.
I am largely ok with a pigeon holing exercise. It is a course requirement that students have to be graded. But in the past terms I only had to deal with very few D grades; this term, I get a handful of F graders to manage. The bulgeoning C population is common for this assignment. It is a paper where one synthesizes two texts to support one's thesis statement. One either does the synthesis fully and correctly or one underdoes it. If one falls short at the synthesis, then the grades drop to the B range. If one falls short at the summaries (and, inevitably the synthesis thereafter), one drops to the C range. Poor writing will cause futher grade drops. My Fabulous F grades are, in all honesty, harder to get than an A grade. I am that certain, sure, confident and proud to say. I reward effort when writing falls short. But how does one reward a paper that is 25% short of the minimum page length? Or a paper that averages 10 mistakes per 8 line paragraph? Or a student who writes whatever s/he feels like writing, with scant regard for the rubric of the assignment?
I try very hard to reflect if it were my poor teaching that caused such a disaster. Well, it seemed like a disaster to me when I have to award Fs in this manner. Ok, let us assume that I taught badly. Then how do you explain the nearly half of the students who got A and B grades? They were spread across both my sections! And how do I explain the other nearly half of the students who got C grades, those who were already weak to begin with, as evidenced by their Assignment 1 performance? If I had taught badly, then surely the assignment question, having gone through a round of eyeballing by the course coordinator, would have explained clearly the demands of the assignment?
The reading packages and the remedial website resources would have also played their part in helping the lost sheep to find their way home. And what about my open email communication channel where they actually have direct access to me via my home email? My students even have my cell phone number, for f***'s sake!
Another consolation I have is the fact that I have assigned short writing pieces to the students for them to practise writing thesis statements, topic sentences and paragraphs. They were also required to use evidence from their reading articles to support their arguments. The marks the F graders received on those assignments are actually indicative of the students' real writing and reasoning abilities. Those fellows are the ones scoring 3 and 4 out of 10. And to not demoralise too much, I set a minimum score of 3 marks on all these short pieces. Any written sh*t would have gotten 3 marks if it were submitted.
On a related note, the fellows who bombed Assignment 2 are the intended recipients of my earlier email telling them of the importance of reading and coming to class prepared. I shouldn't have to or need to feel sorry for them.
The circumstantial evidence of my not having derelicted my duties is complete. I should feel vindicated. Still, I feel Freaking disappointed. A colleague told me to get rid of that "secondary school teacher" mentality in me. "Why should you care, Eugene?" he would ask. "They are already adults and if they are not bothered to get up to speed with the demands of university, why should you mother them?" Well said.
He is a dear friend of mine and he's been really helpful to me ever since I began teaching at that institution. I should lay down my burden and not labour under these rotten straws that threaten to break my back. I shall only help those who bother.
I shall push on and perhaps give a few F grades at the end of the course to the truly deserving. Perhaps Darwin's theory can take over and straighten out the population some...
Of course, Four rounds of reviews later, there are only two students who received F grades (pending confirmation). I'm almost certain my grade distribution will stand. The rest are upgraded but are given stern warnings to buck up.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Some are stupid, others are...
Worse, of course.
Here are a few things that make me cringe.
First, I wonder how a person can repeatedly stab himself/herself in the heart with a small knife (see 1:43). This is the most incredible phenomenon. I really want to see it happen. People take a stab in the abdomen and can hardly move after that. Multiple stabs in the heart... ROFL.
Second, can two bodies be buried in the same plot (2:37)? I know it is possible to have adjacent plots.
Third, how can there be two couples with only two people died (2:53)? Did I miss something?
Honestly, this youtube video makes me feel a little more forgiving towards the students whose papers I'm grading now. It seems like few people are capable of logical thought these days.
And the youtube fellow got it right. The horrendous content "will make (me) cry." What has this world come to?
Here are a few things that make me cringe.
First, I wonder how a person can repeatedly stab himself/herself in the heart with a small knife (see 1:43). This is the most incredible phenomenon. I really want to see it happen. People take a stab in the abdomen and can hardly move after that. Multiple stabs in the heart... ROFL.
Second, can two bodies be buried in the same plot (2:37)? I know it is possible to have adjacent plots.
Third, how can there be two couples with only two people died (2:53)? Did I miss something?
Honestly, this youtube video makes me feel a little more forgiving towards the students whose papers I'm grading now. It seems like few people are capable of logical thought these days.
And the youtube fellow got it right. The horrendous content "will make (me) cry." What has this world come to?
How to lose an audience.
Superbly directed Thai commercial all planned to coax a bucket of tears from your eyes.
But unfortunately, it is meant for domestic consumption and no one knows which organisation it is advertising for.
Do the Thais think the farangs (foreigners) in Thailand don't watch TV?
But unfortunately, it is meant for domestic consumption and no one knows which organisation it is advertising for.
Do the Thais think the farangs (foreigners) in Thailand don't watch TV?
One gets it right!
Got this youtube video in my email this morning.
Honestly, this is what I wish I could do to parents out there when I first began teaching.
I stand by my belief that some people ought to be neutered and never be allowed to have children. After all, we should not let stupidity propagate.
Oh, but then we begin to welcome foreign talents [sic].
Honestly, this is what I wish I could do to parents out there when I first began teaching.
I stand by my belief that some people ought to be neutered and never be allowed to have children. After all, we should not let stupidity propagate.
Oh, but then we begin to welcome foreign talents [sic].
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sooner or later... BOOMZ
Miss Singapore/World 2009 needs no one to introduce her. I am going to unleash her to my readers and let her tell you about herself on Youtube.
Notwithstanding her zip-bra preens and how her red bigini goes boomz when she feels the need to be naughty, Miss Low was a bad hat.
According to the local tabloids, Miss Low was found guilty of credit card fraud in May; she was convicted of five charges of misappropriation, cheating using illegally obtained credit cards, and impersonating their users' identifies, and sentenced to 24 months of supervised probation. It went on to say that "it is unclear if Ms Low, crowned Miss Singapore World on July 31, will be able to leave Singapore to take part in the Miss World pageant to be held in Johannesburg in December, for which she will need court permission."
I think the zip-bras in Johannesburg will miss her if she isn't there. And Simba too. And how would one get light in the safari without Miss Low going BOOMZ?
Notwithstanding her zip-bra preens and how her red bigini goes boomz when she feels the need to be naughty, Miss Low was a bad hat.
According to the local tabloids, Miss Low was found guilty of credit card fraud in May; she was convicted of five charges of misappropriation, cheating using illegally obtained credit cards, and impersonating their users' identifies, and sentenced to 24 months of supervised probation. It went on to say that "it is unclear if Ms Low, crowned Miss Singapore World on July 31, will be able to leave Singapore to take part in the Miss World pageant to be held in Johannesburg in December, for which she will need court permission."
I think the zip-bras in Johannesburg will miss her if she isn't there. And Simba too. And how would one get light in the safari without Miss Low going BOOMZ?
Let me count the ways...
The orthopedic registrar apparently does not think that the bone chip at the C7 is giving me the giddiness and the pains. I was sent for another two blasts of x-rays for my spine and doc has reviewed the slides.
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Swollen Eye
I think something is wrong. My left lower eye lid/bag is swollen. Looks like I'm hiding a profiterole there...
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Killing Me Softly...
Spent about two hours in the Changi General Hospital's Accident and Emergency Department's Observation Room when I went over for follow-up treatment last Friday. Immediately on entering the room, I was plonked on an empty bed. There was a patient on my left (Bed 7) and an empty bed on my right (Bed 5). No prizes for correctly guessing for my bed number.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Concussion
Amazing how a bump in the car rear can cause such a big problem. I'm still dizzy and somewhat wobbly. I still have the attention span of a blue housefly. I can't concentrate for too long on anything.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Important Dates for a TV Addict
21 September, 25 September and 27 September!
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Too often, we forget
I spent the bulk of my day in Changi General Hospital waiting in the ER to have my leftover symptoms from Tueday's car accident checked out by the doctor. In all, I spent 2 hours at my GP,4 hours in the hospital and the whole day in some form of misery.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
So Awful!
After banning So Expensive food court, a few days later, we decided to try out the Singapore Food eating outlets at the end of Downtown East, near the Costa Sands Resort.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
So Expensive!
The last time we met when she came "home" (it's a difficult concept to explain here), Marlina complained that I am brutal with restaurants that fail to meet my exacting standards. I tried to explain that I'm about as objective as I can be. Still she held her ground. Fair enough. I may be harsh but I am fair.
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
Kissable Butt
The car's ass got kissed yesterday. Kissed hard! I cannot help but think of this following song, Embraceable You.
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Monday, September 07, 2009
Answer to a Question
Someone asked why there was a need to write a thesis statement for an argument. After acknowledging that "the thesis statement will form the fundamentals of (an) argument", he goes on to argue that "this is still not a strong argument,... there must be other reasons that will make us write our own thesis statements instead of just writing a response towards the author's thesis statement."
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Compassion of Guanyin's Twin
Two student-related incidents stuck out very clearly in my mind since term started three weeks ago.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The next time you wear it inside out, then...
After the Burgernomics and other crazes used to measure the state of the economy, the spending power of your dollar and others, the Americans have now coined the Men's Underwear Index, which claims that "sales of men's underwear typically are stable because they rank as a necessity. But during times of severe financial strain, men will try to stretch the time between buying new pairs, causing underwear sales to dip."
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Exasperation 4
I have had enough! As I can no longer tolerate any more nonsense during my lessons, I sent out the following as a part of a larger email to my groups.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Exasperation 3
Took the TOEFL on Sunday. I am still seething by the humiliation of it all.
I probably write better than 80% of the Americans, I am well-understood when I speak around the world, I can understand most forms of standard speech (drawls are a different story) and I got a great score on GRE Writing.
My 4 year basic degree from my national university is in English Langauge. And I've gone through 16 years of formal education in English and I've gone through 1 year of teacher training, also in English. Damn, I'm even a qualified EL teacher. For the record, I'm teaching writing in a unversity!
Yet, I am required to eat humble pie and take the TOEFL. And all TOEFL tests is how much I can figure out their tricks in reading comprehension, how much I can recall from fake conversations and scripted lectures, how much I can speak about topics that are far removed from my life and how well I can write about some kiddy topic which I have not dealt since years ago!
Oh, never mind. It's all for a larger goal.
Someone should stop these Americans from bleeding us dry, imposing blanket requirements that are utterly irrelevant to many of us. When would the Yankees stop thinking that only white people in some lands can use English competently whereas a place like Singapore, where many of their academics come to teach and where their CON-(IN)-sult-ants come to grab money, is completely EL incompetent?
Many Singaporeans speak and write better than the Commonwealth peoples of Australia and New Zealand. I only wonder what it might be about "Maaaaate, how are you to-die?" that makes the Yankees love the Aussies to death. And for the record, I know how to use my apostrophes!
PS. The most probably reason for enforcing TOEFL on places like Singapore is for the money. So any attempt to fight this requirement will be a lost cause.
I probably write better than 80% of the Americans, I am well-understood when I speak around the world, I can understand most forms of standard speech (drawls are a different story) and I got a great score on GRE Writing.
My 4 year basic degree from my national university is in English Langauge. And I've gone through 16 years of formal education in English and I've gone through 1 year of teacher training, also in English. Damn, I'm even a qualified EL teacher. For the record, I'm teaching writing in a unversity!
Yet, I am required to eat humble pie and take the TOEFL. And all TOEFL tests is how much I can figure out their tricks in reading comprehension, how much I can recall from fake conversations and scripted lectures, how much I can speak about topics that are far removed from my life and how well I can write about some kiddy topic which I have not dealt since years ago!
Oh, never mind. It's all for a larger goal.
Someone should stop these Americans from bleeding us dry, imposing blanket requirements that are utterly irrelevant to many of us. When would the Yankees stop thinking that only white people in some lands can use English competently whereas a place like Singapore, where many of their academics come to teach and where their CON-(IN)-sult-ants come to grab money, is completely EL incompetent?
Many Singaporeans speak and write better than the Commonwealth peoples of Australia and New Zealand. I only wonder what it might be about "Maaaaate, how are you to-die?" that makes the Yankees love the Aussies to death. And for the record, I know how to use my apostrophes!
PS. The most probably reason for enforcing TOEFL on places like Singapore is for the money. So any attempt to fight this requirement will be a lost cause.
Exasperation 2
It's ok to be stupid. But lazy too? That's a deadly combo.
I caught my freshmen napping on their readings. They did not come to class prepared. And they no-can-do in class presentations of the readings when I tried to ask them to do it.
One group picked up my motives when I skipped the first reading which they were not prepared for. A group quickly stood up and made a lousy second presentation and took some flak for their poor work. Then a second group took on the presentation for the third reading. They too were asked tough questions. But I generally kept my cool and gave them lots of latitude. I just wanted to drive home the point that if you are going to fall behind in your readings, please don't come to class. I won't teach and if you can't share, no one will learn.
The second group was really dumb. They kept quiet as I asked for volunteers to present the three readings. Despite snide remarks about how "the class is so smart that they need not have even a single question?" and "how amazing that in this group, everyone is clear what is going on!" could not get them to move their butts. So, I told them, at this rate we are mastering our work, I can finish teaching the entire syllabus by next week.
No one in the second group had the integrity to admit they had not read their readings. No one had the guts to stand up and take a fall for the class.
No one wants to present, so there is nothing for me to do. I won't be sucked into talking about the readings, chanting to the walls... Can you imagine you walking them through a passage and then having to tell them on which page and which line you are at because they simply cannot follow the discussion as they are grossly underprepared? I absolutely hated that and that's why the lesson!
Let's watch the freshmen bomb for Assignment 1.
I caught my freshmen napping on their readings. They did not come to class prepared. And they no-can-do in class presentations of the readings when I tried to ask them to do it.
One group picked up my motives when I skipped the first reading which they were not prepared for. A group quickly stood up and made a lousy second presentation and took some flak for their poor work. Then a second group took on the presentation for the third reading. They too were asked tough questions. But I generally kept my cool and gave them lots of latitude. I just wanted to drive home the point that if you are going to fall behind in your readings, please don't come to class. I won't teach and if you can't share, no one will learn.
The second group was really dumb. They kept quiet as I asked for volunteers to present the three readings. Despite snide remarks about how "the class is so smart that they need not have even a single question?" and "how amazing that in this group, everyone is clear what is going on!" could not get them to move their butts. So, I told them, at this rate we are mastering our work, I can finish teaching the entire syllabus by next week.
No one in the second group had the integrity to admit they had not read their readings. No one had the guts to stand up and take a fall for the class.
No one wants to present, so there is nothing for me to do. I won't be sucked into talking about the readings, chanting to the walls... Can you imagine you walking them through a passage and then having to tell them on which page and which line you are at because they simply cannot follow the discussion as they are grossly underprepared? I absolutely hated that and that's why the lesson!
Let's watch the freshmen bomb for Assignment 1.
Exasperation 1
A new student wanted tuition for JC 1 (Grade 11) math. He's repeating the grade because he failed it last year.
There was a lot of work to catch up for him and I can see a tough road ahead. I tried getting him to come twice a week and both he and his dad agreed. Initially. Then he didn't attend the first class last week and the dad tried cutting down the duration of class from 2 hours to 1 hour for the second class last week.
After sonny missed the first class and old man asked for the abbreviation of class duration for the second class (and second time - he did it at the last minute for the first "trial" class too, after agreeing to a 2 hours session), I told the father that I did not see any value in taking his money and not helping his son out. There was absolutely no reason to teach just an hour because it was pedagogically ineffective and if I do not deliver results, I'm happier not to take the money.
Eventually, the dad admitted that he had problems with paying my fees. He then tried to bargain with me. It was odd, because if he deemed my fees high, he could have either bargained right at the start or simply not engage me. Honestly, if he had bargained right at the beginning, I would have directed them to a tuition agency. But two weeks later, I have also did the same. I asked the dad to get help from a tuition agency and see if they were willing to help.
My only exasperation - not being able to help the son.
I am no angel or saint. Tutoring is a livelihood and if I'm going to dig deep and catch up in 7 weeks what the son failed to master in the past 20 months and deliver some results, I cannot help but expect to be duly compensated.
There was a lot of work to catch up for him and I can see a tough road ahead. I tried getting him to come twice a week and both he and his dad agreed. Initially. Then he didn't attend the first class last week and the dad tried cutting down the duration of class from 2 hours to 1 hour for the second class last week.
After sonny missed the first class and old man asked for the abbreviation of class duration for the second class (and second time - he did it at the last minute for the first "trial" class too, after agreeing to a 2 hours session), I told the father that I did not see any value in taking his money and not helping his son out. There was absolutely no reason to teach just an hour because it was pedagogically ineffective and if I do not deliver results, I'm happier not to take the money.
Eventually, the dad admitted that he had problems with paying my fees. He then tried to bargain with me. It was odd, because if he deemed my fees high, he could have either bargained right at the start or simply not engage me. Honestly, if he had bargained right at the beginning, I would have directed them to a tuition agency. But two weeks later, I have also did the same. I asked the dad to get help from a tuition agency and see if they were willing to help.
My only exasperation - not being able to help the son.
I am no angel or saint. Tutoring is a livelihood and if I'm going to dig deep and catch up in 7 weeks what the son failed to master in the past 20 months and deliver some results, I cannot help but expect to be duly compensated.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
School Term Begins
I've already finished teaching my first week of classes and yet, the University is still adding students to my groups. That means I'd have to teach thesis statement writing all over again.
I've collected about 45 reading responses from the students and slaved through them for the past 3 days. To be honest, the standard of the writing is pretty galling. I shudder when I read, "everyone has a double sided sword." I really wonder where people keep this sword. In their pants?
I've asked to see a number of students so I can talk about their writing problems with them. Many of them write extremely long sentences, which mostly end up as mega-fragments or illogical and ungrammatical run-ons or comma splices.
Many are making the "this" error. This is a nuisance because I simply don't know what "this" stands for. The referent is not clear. Others use thus, therefore and hence when there is a non-conclusion. I see randon punctuations, wrong punctuations and missing punctuations.
If these were not bad enough, some students didn't know how to set margins, how to set double spacing, how to use 12 point font, how to... Maybe I should have another MS Word tutorial for the class, in addition to teaching them basic argumentation techniques.
Still, I'm happy with the papers I've received. At least I now have a tangible enemy to fight against. With the additional help that I'm giving to the weaker kids, I hope I'll never have to end up giving another D or D+ again.
I've collected about 45 reading responses from the students and slaved through them for the past 3 days. To be honest, the standard of the writing is pretty galling. I shudder when I read, "everyone has a double sided sword." I really wonder where people keep this sword. In their pants?
I've asked to see a number of students so I can talk about their writing problems with them. Many of them write extremely long sentences, which mostly end up as mega-fragments or illogical and ungrammatical run-ons or comma splices.
Many are making the "this" error. This is a nuisance because I simply don't know what "this" stands for. The referent is not clear. Others use thus, therefore and hence when there is a non-conclusion. I see randon punctuations, wrong punctuations and missing punctuations.
If these were not bad enough, some students didn't know how to set margins, how to set double spacing, how to use 12 point font, how to... Maybe I should have another MS Word tutorial for the class, in addition to teaching them basic argumentation techniques.
Still, I'm happy with the papers I've received. At least I now have a tangible enemy to fight against. With the additional help that I'm giving to the weaker kids, I hope I'll never have to end up giving another D or D+ again.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Shit Happens AGAIN!
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ERROR
I was about to bitch about some guy who read a book that asked him to do an MCQ on the question, "If a beggar asks you for money as you walk down the street, what would you do?"
Damn.
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ERROR
I was about to bitch about some guy who read a book that asked him to do an MCQ on the question, "If a beggar asks you for money as you walk down the street, what would you do?"
Damn.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Elections Coming?
The annual National Day Rally by the Prime Minister last night was a nicely veiled work review of the tasks his cabinet and members of parliament have been given and a report of the updates and achievements. As I sit through the entire speech, the signs of an upcoming elections are obvious. The Prime Minister is not different from a director making an annual update to his upper management the jobs he has assigned to his deputies and folks. Time to give me a promotion. Or for that matter, time to return me to office one more time. Otherwise, why would anyone have to do that at a NDR?
The usual slew of topics - bitching about Singaporeans not giving birth and announcing bonuses - is absent. Of course, what my government and I cannot achieve, we pay less attention to it. Let's showcase our successes instead. So, there were takes on issues such as religious tolerance, the AH1N1, Singapore past and now and possibly the future, and infrastructural updates. PM highlighted the work of all the ministries and gave them kudos.
Of course, in a speech like this, there were no lacking in certain understated but not to be missed moments.
PM Lee envision Singapore to be a Garden of Eden state. If I am not wrong, God owned the Garden of Eden. Enough said.
PM Lee said that people should be inclusive enough so that it is possible for people of different faiths to have a meal at the same table. Even if you don't eat what I eat, it is still possible to share a table. As yourself how many times certain meals must be from a particular religion and every one is forced to eat that, regardless? If there is inclusiveness, then let me eat what I want. In fact, I have asked my neighbour if he minded food that are free of his religious taboos but is cooked in my kitchen. His answer was yes, he minded. So there. Again, enough said.
PM spoke of how a clash between a funeral and a wedding took place. The wedding folks eventually acquiesced and chose an alternative, nearby venue and the town council waived utility charges. Er... I'm pretty sure if the dead person could walk, s/he might want to change a venue to save on charges too? Why not be fair and waive both charges?
PM spoke of the importance of the government to remain secular and the NGOs be that way too so that no one religious group can use such platforms to spread any of their (fanatic) agenda. He also wanted common space to exist. If that is the case, then why is Section 377A still in existence. The government and the laws should be above the religion! Anyone running afoul of Section 377A is a violation of "contract" between the person and the government; what have strong religious sentiment got to do with it? Why even use groups of fervent opposers as an excuse not to overturn the outdated law?
PM spoke of how the picture depicting the NS man (in the Mount Faber SAFRA) is appropriate - his wife is behind him and his kids beside. And how many NS men aren't married, can't even keep a wife, are divorced, don't want the kids they have, have a broken family etc? The rosy pictures are always nice. But show how it really is for the real NS man out there. Do you actually see us struggling with our IPPT? Do you actually see us losing out because of our ICT? Do you even see us?
PM spoke of how the PAP government brought the people out of slums and squatters. The audience laughed when PM spoke about Lim Kim San's visit to Chinatown where he faced a man lying in bed wrapped up in his blanket who claimed that he was being courteous to Mr Lim: his bunk mate and him shared a pair of trousers (gay??) and his mate has worn those trousers out to work then. What's with the laughter? What is so funny? Have we really moved out of poverty? If it were funny sharing trousers in the 1950s, then why is it not funny not having enough money to pay utility bills, pay children's school fees, pay town council charges, or even buy food for a proper meal? Haven't these people who should live with a d*mned paper bag over their heads for living beyond their means have even more to laugh about? Yet, why are they queueing up for handouts? Did they really live beyond their means or have they really no choice but have to live that way? Have we really rid Singapore of poverty? Are our lives really better now than before?
PM spoke of how people benefited from the government housing programme but he plain forgot that the very same government deprived most single Singaporeans from being able to benefit from any housing subsidies. (To qualify for any subsidy, a single must earn less than $3,000 per month. Pray tell how is that possible?) Worse, single Singaporeans now face housing prices that are way beyond their reach. Remember, singles can only buy from the open market and not directly from the Housing and Development Board. Open market flats which cost less than $100 000 from HDB when the owners first bought them cost at least 3 to 5 times as much in the open market. Singles who are attempting to own a unit will be saddled with a mountain of lifetime debt!
There are even more that I can talk about but the bottom line is this. We are busy building and rebuilding and even remaking Singapore into something more and more vibrant and cosmopolitan. However, little provision is made for the common man and its rapidly aging population. Step down facilities to be twinned with acute care hospitals are just one measure for the aged. How about other measures? What happens when I decide to retire? Even if the government raises retirement ages up to 80 years old, there will be one day when I cannot get out of bed any more. Or I simply won't. Then what? Am I condemned to work from 18 to 80 just because I am Singaporean, am poor and have no way to go?
There is little doubt that the PAP government will continue to rule Singapore for at least the next 15 to 20 years. I am no prophet and I am not in the business of speculation so I won't project beyond that. My only question is a simple one: When I am ready to go, where should I be so I can afford to die?
The usual slew of topics - bitching about Singaporeans not giving birth and announcing bonuses - is absent. Of course, what my government and I cannot achieve, we pay less attention to it. Let's showcase our successes instead. So, there were takes on issues such as religious tolerance, the AH1N1, Singapore past and now and possibly the future, and infrastructural updates. PM highlighted the work of all the ministries and gave them kudos.
Of course, in a speech like this, there were no lacking in certain understated but not to be missed moments.
PM Lee envision Singapore to be a Garden of Eden state. If I am not wrong, God owned the Garden of Eden. Enough said.
PM Lee said that people should be inclusive enough so that it is possible for people of different faiths to have a meal at the same table. Even if you don't eat what I eat, it is still possible to share a table. As yourself how many times certain meals must be from a particular religion and every one is forced to eat that, regardless? If there is inclusiveness, then let me eat what I want. In fact, I have asked my neighbour if he minded food that are free of his religious taboos but is cooked in my kitchen. His answer was yes, he minded. So there. Again, enough said.
PM spoke of how a clash between a funeral and a wedding took place. The wedding folks eventually acquiesced and chose an alternative, nearby venue and the town council waived utility charges. Er... I'm pretty sure if the dead person could walk, s/he might want to change a venue to save on charges too? Why not be fair and waive both charges?
PM spoke of the importance of the government to remain secular and the NGOs be that way too so that no one religious group can use such platforms to spread any of their (fanatic) agenda. He also wanted common space to exist. If that is the case, then why is Section 377A still in existence. The government and the laws should be above the religion! Anyone running afoul of Section 377A is a violation of "contract" between the person and the government; what have strong religious sentiment got to do with it? Why even use groups of fervent opposers as an excuse not to overturn the outdated law?
PM spoke of how the picture depicting the NS man (in the Mount Faber SAFRA) is appropriate - his wife is behind him and his kids beside. And how many NS men aren't married, can't even keep a wife, are divorced, don't want the kids they have, have a broken family etc? The rosy pictures are always nice. But show how it really is for the real NS man out there. Do you actually see us struggling with our IPPT? Do you actually see us losing out because of our ICT? Do you even see us?
PM spoke of how the PAP government brought the people out of slums and squatters. The audience laughed when PM spoke about Lim Kim San's visit to Chinatown where he faced a man lying in bed wrapped up in his blanket who claimed that he was being courteous to Mr Lim: his bunk mate and him shared a pair of trousers (gay??) and his mate has worn those trousers out to work then. What's with the laughter? What is so funny? Have we really moved out of poverty? If it were funny sharing trousers in the 1950s, then why is it not funny not having enough money to pay utility bills, pay children's school fees, pay town council charges, or even buy food for a proper meal? Haven't these people who should live with a d*mned paper bag over their heads for living beyond their means have even more to laugh about? Yet, why are they queueing up for handouts? Did they really live beyond their means or have they really no choice but have to live that way? Have we really rid Singapore of poverty? Are our lives really better now than before?
PM spoke of how people benefited from the government housing programme but he plain forgot that the very same government deprived most single Singaporeans from being able to benefit from any housing subsidies. (To qualify for any subsidy, a single must earn less than $3,000 per month. Pray tell how is that possible?) Worse, single Singaporeans now face housing prices that are way beyond their reach. Remember, singles can only buy from the open market and not directly from the Housing and Development Board. Open market flats which cost less than $100 000 from HDB when the owners first bought them cost at least 3 to 5 times as much in the open market. Singles who are attempting to own a unit will be saddled with a mountain of lifetime debt!
There are even more that I can talk about but the bottom line is this. We are busy building and rebuilding and even remaking Singapore into something more and more vibrant and cosmopolitan. However, little provision is made for the common man and its rapidly aging population. Step down facilities to be twinned with acute care hospitals are just one measure for the aged. How about other measures? What happens when I decide to retire? Even if the government raises retirement ages up to 80 years old, there will be one day when I cannot get out of bed any more. Or I simply won't. Then what? Am I condemned to work from 18 to 80 just because I am Singaporean, am poor and have no way to go?
There is little doubt that the PAP government will continue to rule Singapore for at least the next 15 to 20 years. I am no prophet and I am not in the business of speculation so I won't project beyond that. My only question is a simple one: When I am ready to go, where should I be so I can afford to die?
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Alternative Rock
I think I'm getting older. I begin to appreciate Alternative Rock.
Keane's Somewhere Only We Know
and Coldplay's Viva La Vida now strike me as listenable.
The irony of the social concerns feature and they are snide takes on many events in the world. Wiki probably has a good explanation on what alternative rock means.
Just as country and soft rock are more endearing and possibly less critical genre of music, alternative rock has a grudging vibe. It appeals to me because it has a strong story and I must 'fess I prefer the more narrative alternative rock. The heavy artillery sound is still not my kind of music.
Enjoy.
Keane's Somewhere Only We Know
and Coldplay's Viva La Vida now strike me as listenable.
The irony of the social concerns feature and they are snide takes on many events in the world. Wiki probably has a good explanation on what alternative rock means.
Just as country and soft rock are more endearing and possibly less critical genre of music, alternative rock has a grudging vibe. It appeals to me because it has a strong story and I must 'fess I prefer the more narrative alternative rock. The heavy artillery sound is still not my kind of music.
Enjoy.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Blogspot is screwed again
Why is it that Blogspot is now giving me a screen that goes...
Posting
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
There, this is a cut and paste. I didn't even realise that there was a publised error code. Damn, this is getting pretty sickening and every time I try to blog, I get such nonsense and I lose interest.
Perhaps it's a sign to tell me to stop blogging.
Posting
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
There, this is a cut and paste. I didn't even realise that there was a publised error code. Damn, this is getting pretty sickening and every time I try to blog, I get such nonsense and I lose interest.
Perhaps it's a sign to tell me to stop blogging.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Busy Period
University term begins next week and it's a mad mad period updating the materials. No thanks to the late information I get from the course coordinator.
More to rush through and more to think about. And still, there are many holes to plug. Sigh.
More to rush through and more to think about. And still, there are many holes to plug. Sigh.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Singapore is 44!
I have never felt so "underwhelmed" when watching a National Day Parade. I can't be jaded till I am not even excited about the day off when the Nation celebrates its independence. The main problem with the parade was the wrong focus.
The media folks have been led round and round to the concept of the Singapore Story in 10 Chapters. That's the problem. The hang-up now becomes 10 chapters, not whether if we do need 10 chapters or if there could be a better way to project a new-story. Not new story. New-story, a politically-correct reinvention and retelling of the factually correct boring tale of history? Like old lamps for new? Ok, now you get it.
NDP 2009 took on too much on its shoulders. To think the country is 44 and the entire parade tried to tell so many things at one go. Imagine with Singapore is 440! Then what? Does NDP 2405 begin on 8 Jul till 9 Aug? C'mon. Think carefully, select properly.
The segment which showcased how a terrorist attack would cripple Singapore was hilarious. Cheryl Fox came on Channel Faux News Asia and began announcing that there is an attack on Singapore. Blah blah blah. And the NDP organisers did not have good sense to have a running subtitle showing "NDP 2009" across the stage. If, indeed, terrorist trained illegal immigrants floated using NTUC plastic bags filled with plastic explosives infiltrated Singapore at the same time and bombed the living daylights out of Changi, no one would have believed if the emergency news bulletin came on.
And funnier still. There was a side bar showing that Singapore traded at over 4 dollars to the US dollar. Is that the sign of the fiscal policies that we are adopting to stay viable? Depreciate the Sing Dollar till the Americans will send Seagate back to set up another factory because we are now only a third as expensive? And our poor Yusuf Ishaks didn't bounce back after the terror attacks were foiled. So... what's the difference whether or not there is an attack?
One hilarity was the cold fireworks on the tail on the terrorist sea scooter. Do we really think that in this day and age, anyone wishing to knock out our lights are going to use such equipment and flag himself/herself out for all to see?
And then the parade sequence went down quicker than Michael Jackson on barbiturates from that point. I've completely lost interest and couldn't wait for Singapore Idol - see, I'm still damned patriotic, right? - to come on. (Of course, falling asleep while watching idol is another story.)
Some of the less inspiring moments of the parade:
1. Poor lighting. I still cannot understand how MediaCorp lighting folks could allow things such as yellow light on red costumes, white light on white canvas to happen. They much have done the equivalent of at least 100 NDPs. I know, since each NDP is preceded by at least 5 rehearsals. Unforgiveable.
2. Senseless commentary. Anyone trying to figure out what the Channel 5 folks were commenting would probably be so lost the parade lost its entire meaning. 'nuff said.
3. Badly focused camera angles. I don't think we even knew who was the officer in commanding for the ceremonial 21 gun salute. I saw poorly composed pictures on my screens. I'm never able to see the full picture of what is going on. Otherwise, when I see the full picture, nothing is going on. Or maybe, nothing is really going on.
4. Gawdy or inappropriate costumes. One of the second lieutenants bearing a colours flag is probably off to some 80s hijink after that; he was wearing white bell bottoms for his uniform. Darling, Sir Elton's going to be really pleased with you... The box around the heads of some performers in a particular dance sequence was supposed to represent Singaporeans? Oh, can't think out of the box because the box is outside our heads. The giant dolls were so absolutely passe I don't know what to say.
5. Insipid song arrangements. Ok, granted you don't want a karaoke sing-along, but NDP is one major karaoke session. People come in and sing "Stand Up for Singapore" whether they are in their living room or with in some Geylang bedroom. They want to reaffirm that "We are Singapore", whether or not you welcome foreign talent. Just give them the green card (Permanent Resident). The want the world to know that Singapore is their "Home" truly, whether or not they have enough rice to eat during the price hike earlier this year. What they got was a mish mash of poorly thought through medley. It's like doing all the moves of the kama sutra without contact. In all honestly, it will not even to arouse the warmest blooded of Singaporeans. How to sing-along liddat?
6. Badly thought out trasitions. One main complaint is that some transitions were politically charged. MM Lee, SM Goh, and PM Lee have become the mainstay of any NDP when you need to convey a point that you are afraid would be lost because of the subtlety. So, you go the opposite direction. Puh-leeze. And then you've got no-namers doing talk and chat. This is so 2000. No doubt, the organizing group came from the same place that did NDP 2000, I'd expect more polish and quality.
Other transitions between chapters and within chapters are also odd and forgettable. In fact, most of the 10 chapters are forgettable. What's there to remember? And why was the need for 10 chapters when some chapters were merely of a few waifs "geleking"?
7. Someone please explain the Pledge moment? Why must it be at 8.22 pm? If I had known Sheng Siong Supermarket was going to participate in this event, I'd walk in, pick 5 kg of live prawns and wait at the door. Come 8.22 pm, I'm going home with my new pets. What purpose can saying the Pledge serve in the middle of my dinner? Make me more patriotic? Eh, my food is turning cold you know? (Of course, there is nothing tackier than hearing someone talk about how the 1968 parade was rained out and it went on despite them shivering in the rain. Looks like global warming has done something good for those who are afraid of the cold.) The prelude to the pledge moment stank: "You know the words... Say what you mean... Mean what you say..." were in my books so domineering. But hey, this is my "Home", "My Singapore", and I must "Stand Up for Singapore." (Eh, how come no reaction?)
8. Limp fireworks. Perhaps we can start using more ingenious but fewer fireworks. The savings can be given out in our GST rebates. I don't think our finance minister will be too happy looking at how money disbursed is burnt in the air rather than, say, giving the parade goers another bun or drink in the fun pack.
Honourable mentions (good things)
1. The parade formed up really late this time. This is a good plan because the medics will have fewer people to cart out.
2. No giant cake moment. Imagine how tacky this is if a giant cake were to be driven to the middle of the floating platform and then when it breaks open, pole dancers begin their routine. Mmm....
In all, the parade showed how a 44 year old woman should not be... saggy (slow tempo), naggy (10 chapters), gawdily dressed, over-blinged (fireworks and other senseless additions), attention seeking and proselytizing.
People will have views of how a parade should be done and of course, views will differ and they may or may not agree with how things go. But as far as I am concerned, I sense a gulf, a detachment, a removal from NDP 2009. Never have I felt that confused to be Singaporean.
The media folks have been led round and round to the concept of the Singapore Story in 10 Chapters. That's the problem. The hang-up now becomes 10 chapters, not whether if we do need 10 chapters or if there could be a better way to project a new-story. Not new story. New-story, a politically-correct reinvention and retelling of the factually correct boring tale of history? Like old lamps for new? Ok, now you get it.
NDP 2009 took on too much on its shoulders. To think the country is 44 and the entire parade tried to tell so many things at one go. Imagine with Singapore is 440! Then what? Does NDP 2405 begin on 8 Jul till 9 Aug? C'mon. Think carefully, select properly.
The segment which showcased how a terrorist attack would cripple Singapore was hilarious. Cheryl Fox came on Channel Faux News Asia and began announcing that there is an attack on Singapore. Blah blah blah. And the NDP organisers did not have good sense to have a running subtitle showing "NDP 2009" across the stage. If, indeed, terrorist trained illegal immigrants floated using NTUC plastic bags filled with plastic explosives infiltrated Singapore at the same time and bombed the living daylights out of Changi, no one would have believed if the emergency news bulletin came on.
And funnier still. There was a side bar showing that Singapore traded at over 4 dollars to the US dollar. Is that the sign of the fiscal policies that we are adopting to stay viable? Depreciate the Sing Dollar till the Americans will send Seagate back to set up another factory because we are now only a third as expensive? And our poor Yusuf Ishaks didn't bounce back after the terror attacks were foiled. So... what's the difference whether or not there is an attack?
One hilarity was the cold fireworks on the tail on the terrorist sea scooter. Do we really think that in this day and age, anyone wishing to knock out our lights are going to use such equipment and flag himself/herself out for all to see?
And then the parade sequence went down quicker than Michael Jackson on barbiturates from that point. I've completely lost interest and couldn't wait for Singapore Idol - see, I'm still damned patriotic, right? - to come on. (Of course, falling asleep while watching idol is another story.)
Some of the less inspiring moments of the parade:
1. Poor lighting. I still cannot understand how MediaCorp lighting folks could allow things such as yellow light on red costumes, white light on white canvas to happen. They much have done the equivalent of at least 100 NDPs. I know, since each NDP is preceded by at least 5 rehearsals. Unforgiveable.
2. Senseless commentary. Anyone trying to figure out what the Channel 5 folks were commenting would probably be so lost the parade lost its entire meaning. 'nuff said.
3. Badly focused camera angles. I don't think we even knew who was the officer in commanding for the ceremonial 21 gun salute. I saw poorly composed pictures on my screens. I'm never able to see the full picture of what is going on. Otherwise, when I see the full picture, nothing is going on. Or maybe, nothing is really going on.
4. Gawdy or inappropriate costumes. One of the second lieutenants bearing a colours flag is probably off to some 80s hijink after that; he was wearing white bell bottoms for his uniform. Darling, Sir Elton's going to be really pleased with you... The box around the heads of some performers in a particular dance sequence was supposed to represent Singaporeans? Oh, can't think out of the box because the box is outside our heads. The giant dolls were so absolutely passe I don't know what to say.
5. Insipid song arrangements. Ok, granted you don't want a karaoke sing-along, but NDP is one major karaoke session. People come in and sing "Stand Up for Singapore" whether they are in their living room or with in some Geylang bedroom. They want to reaffirm that "We are Singapore", whether or not you welcome foreign talent. Just give them the green card (Permanent Resident). The want the world to know that Singapore is their "Home" truly, whether or not they have enough rice to eat during the price hike earlier this year. What they got was a mish mash of poorly thought through medley. It's like doing all the moves of the kama sutra without contact. In all honestly, it will not even to arouse the warmest blooded of Singaporeans. How to sing-along liddat?
6. Badly thought out trasitions. One main complaint is that some transitions were politically charged. MM Lee, SM Goh, and PM Lee have become the mainstay of any NDP when you need to convey a point that you are afraid would be lost because of the subtlety. So, you go the opposite direction. Puh-leeze. And then you've got no-namers doing talk and chat. This is so 2000. No doubt, the organizing group came from the same place that did NDP 2000, I'd expect more polish and quality.
Other transitions between chapters and within chapters are also odd and forgettable. In fact, most of the 10 chapters are forgettable. What's there to remember? And why was the need for 10 chapters when some chapters were merely of a few waifs "geleking"?
7. Someone please explain the Pledge moment? Why must it be at 8.22 pm? If I had known Sheng Siong Supermarket was going to participate in this event, I'd walk in, pick 5 kg of live prawns and wait at the door. Come 8.22 pm, I'm going home with my new pets. What purpose can saying the Pledge serve in the middle of my dinner? Make me more patriotic? Eh, my food is turning cold you know? (Of course, there is nothing tackier than hearing someone talk about how the 1968 parade was rained out and it went on despite them shivering in the rain. Looks like global warming has done something good for those who are afraid of the cold.) The prelude to the pledge moment stank: "You know the words... Say what you mean... Mean what you say..." were in my books so domineering. But hey, this is my "Home", "My Singapore", and I must "Stand Up for Singapore." (Eh, how come no reaction?)
8. Limp fireworks. Perhaps we can start using more ingenious but fewer fireworks. The savings can be given out in our GST rebates. I don't think our finance minister will be too happy looking at how money disbursed is burnt in the air rather than, say, giving the parade goers another bun or drink in the fun pack.
Honourable mentions (good things)
1. The parade formed up really late this time. This is a good plan because the medics will have fewer people to cart out.
2. No giant cake moment. Imagine how tacky this is if a giant cake were to be driven to the middle of the floating platform and then when it breaks open, pole dancers begin their routine. Mmm....
In all, the parade showed how a 44 year old woman should not be... saggy (slow tempo), naggy (10 chapters), gawdily dressed, over-blinged (fireworks and other senseless additions), attention seeking and proselytizing.
People will have views of how a parade should be done and of course, views will differ and they may or may not agree with how things go. But as far as I am concerned, I sense a gulf, a detachment, a removal from NDP 2009. Never have I felt that confused to be Singaporean.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Villa Lethargia
It's like checking into some warped kind of Hotel California and then, like HoCal, never get to get out of it ever again.
Villa Lethargia has been my humble abode for the past fortnight. While I didn't get past the jetlag when I was in the US, I couldn't get over the jetlag after I come home.
I drift off to sleep at 8 pm and wake up at 9 pm, and then I only go back to bed at 2 am and wake up at 5 am. This has been the sleeping pattern for too long. And then, recently, I'm falling asleep at 10.30 pm but waking up at 5 am. The only consolation is I'm getting more sleep.
I just want to get things going but there is generally no interest to get anything going. University term begins in a week and I'm still reviewing my materials. In the past, I would have gotten them worked out already. Really, I blame it more on the course coordinator who cannot get a good grasp of the course sequence than my long term residence in VilLeth, but hey, I'll blame anyone for my misery (or lack of) at this moment.
I'm bitching about the blogger and the stuff are still not back up. I'm generally dissatisfied with this nonsense and I wish I there is a smarter way of solving my problems.
To sate my muffin craving, I have resorted to making my own muffins. Still experimenting but fewer hits than misses so far. I need more practice. The bin is well fed. Argh. I should get off now. Need to check the cake I'm baking now. Too lazy to fill muffin cups, so I use a cake tin directly. Hope this pineapple muffin turns out ok.
I'm back to watching new TV series. Nurse Jackie and Royal Pains are good. I'm an addict. Villa Lethargia, I love you...
Villa Lethargia has been my humble abode for the past fortnight. While I didn't get past the jetlag when I was in the US, I couldn't get over the jetlag after I come home.
I drift off to sleep at 8 pm and wake up at 9 pm, and then I only go back to bed at 2 am and wake up at 5 am. This has been the sleeping pattern for too long. And then, recently, I'm falling asleep at 10.30 pm but waking up at 5 am. The only consolation is I'm getting more sleep.
I just want to get things going but there is generally no interest to get anything going. University term begins in a week and I'm still reviewing my materials. In the past, I would have gotten them worked out already. Really, I blame it more on the course coordinator who cannot get a good grasp of the course sequence than my long term residence in VilLeth, but hey, I'll blame anyone for my misery (or lack of) at this moment.
I'm bitching about the blogger and the stuff are still not back up. I'm generally dissatisfied with this nonsense and I wish I there is a smarter way of solving my problems.
To sate my muffin craving, I have resorted to making my own muffins. Still experimenting but fewer hits than misses so far. I need more practice. The bin is well fed. Argh. I should get off now. Need to check the cake I'm baking now. Too lazy to fill muffin cups, so I use a cake tin directly. Hope this pineapple muffin turns out ok.
I'm back to watching new TV series. Nurse Jackie and Royal Pains are good. I'm an addict. Villa Lethargia, I love you...
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Such a pain
I woke up early enough to write a blog entry this morning but the usual icons are missing and I can't activate my labels, my post options and whatever not.
I really hate such mornings!
I really hate such mornings!
Chicago Contradictions 3 to 8 of 8
I reckon these will sit on my desktop till kingdom come. So, I'm just going to post it in its draft form. Sometimes, an incomplete piece is also an masterpiece. Think "Unfinished Symphony."
3. Pretty but ugly
Pleasant views reside within the ocular region of the external observer. Or, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. It is perhaps the high latitude that Chicago is on and the relatively mild summer this year, many plants are in bloom in Chicago. They look lovely, even if they were generally in small patches. The wild flowers and weeds, though, were in full bloom and glory.
And when one compares what nature offers, man-made architecture in Chicago pales in comparison. While Chicago is home to some of the tallest buildings in the US, such as the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Tower, the rest of the buildings are not as spectacular.
Despite being one of the larger cities in the US, Chicago architecture is largely northern European, which is rather functional but boring. Most buildings are built with brick and have flat roofs and large windows. It is perhaps the harsh winters and massive snow storms that require such a construction to ensure that the buildings survive. So when we juxtapose the man-made stuff and nature, one begins to note the kind of beauty that Nature is capable of.
4. Nothing to buy but have things to buy
If you look hard enough
5. Cheap but expensive
11% tourist discount vs 10.25% regular state tax (non-refundable, unlike European VAT)
6. There is a need to eat even if there is no need to eat
Weather, perhaps, makes you hungry the minute meal times arrive. You may have had something big 2 hours before but your brain thinks you’ve digested everything. So you wanna eat again.
7. It blows hot to cold
Hot sun, warm streets, cool breezes, cold rain
8. Safe but not that safe
Don’t feel threatened, cf other major American cities but still there is no end of blaring siren and police vehicles
3. Pretty but ugly
Pleasant views reside within the ocular region of the external observer. Or, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. It is perhaps the high latitude that Chicago is on and the relatively mild summer this year, many plants are in bloom in Chicago. They look lovely, even if they were generally in small patches. The wild flowers and weeds, though, were in full bloom and glory.
And when one compares what nature offers, man-made architecture in Chicago pales in comparison. While Chicago is home to some of the tallest buildings in the US, such as the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Tower, the rest of the buildings are not as spectacular.
Despite being one of the larger cities in the US, Chicago architecture is largely northern European, which is rather functional but boring. Most buildings are built with brick and have flat roofs and large windows. It is perhaps the harsh winters and massive snow storms that require such a construction to ensure that the buildings survive. So when we juxtapose the man-made stuff and nature, one begins to note the kind of beauty that Nature is capable of.
4. Nothing to buy but have things to buy
If you look hard enough
5. Cheap but expensive
11% tourist discount vs 10.25% regular state tax (non-refundable, unlike European VAT)
6. There is a need to eat even if there is no need to eat
Weather, perhaps, makes you hungry the minute meal times arrive. You may have had something big 2 hours before but your brain thinks you’ve digested everything. So you wanna eat again.
7. It blows hot to cold
Hot sun, warm streets, cool breezes, cold rain
8. Safe but not that safe
Don’t feel threatened, cf other major American cities but still there is no end of blaring siren and police vehicles
Saturday, August 01, 2009
She
She may be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She ambled along the airplane aisle and began searching for seat 37F. That was the seat beside me and I was certainly not excited about having to be cramped in my little aisle seat in a Boeing 747-400 after losing the space beside me. Being somewhat more generous than I normally am, I looked at her and asked, "37F?"
"Yeah."
"You're here then." I pointed to the seat beside me.
This is my first impression of She. Definitely not a white woman; maybe hispanic, maybe Asian. I'm not too sure. But certainly not a big woman. More Asian, if you ask me to characterise her.
She got past the folks trying to shove their bags into the overhead compartments while I grudgingly removed my safety belt and got up from my seat.
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She carried her carry on handbag - not exactly a very small one - and then settled into her seat.
"I hope these two seats are empty," said She, pointing to 37D and 37E. "Then we can share the four seats between us."
"I heard the plane is full." I was unusually unhopeful.
"Let's hope," she said.
"We'll know once they say 'Cabin doors closed'," I replied rather nonchalantly.
A chatty one. Dear god, is this a joke? It's going to be 19 hours of... I think I'll go along. Anyway, there is nothing more exciting that disturbing that bitch sitting in front of me.
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell
We got the four seats and she happily moved to 37E, leaving a seat between us. There was distance for comfort and proximity for noisy conversation.
"My name is She," she introduced herself. (For her privacy, I oughtn't name her.)
"I am He," I said.
"I'm from Florida," said She. "I'm flying home to Jakarta. I'm going home for the first time after I married to America."
"Yeah, right, Miss Saigon," I cynically thought. Maybe I should ask her how she fished the rich husband. Instead, my politically correct civil servant persona kicked in. "Oh, Florida. I heard it's a nice place. And wow! It must be a pain flying all the way to Jakarta."
"I started at Fort Lauradale," said she. And she began regaling me with her travails since she began her journey in Florida, including how she had to run from terminal to terminal to make the flight. An earlier thunderstorm in the New York/New Jersey area apparently caused airports to shut down for about 2 hours and planes were backlogged.
"My journey actually started at noon, when I had to check out from the hotel," I countered, not wishing to seem that I was in any better shape. Oddly, it was as though I was trying to find an excuse for bad behaviour.
The flight took off and we had our meals, we napped, we chatted and she told me her lifestory somewhat.
She was not as bad as I had thought. Oddly, her generosity was amazing. She was a "sharer", a "giver" of sorts.
"I live in a big house in Florida. 5 rooms... 4000 over square feet," She proudly announced, right after telling me - a complete stranger less than 30 minutes ago - that I should visit her in Florida and stay at her place when I visit.
And then she started showing me digital photographs off her digital camera of her palace. I vaguely recall the house has a pinkish exterior and it looks huge.
"My husband and I used to live in an even larger house. One acre...," She reminisced as she began describing her heaven. "But he lost everything. You know Madoff?"
I'd be damned if I know not of Madoff.
"He invested all his life savings, our retirement money, millions, with him. He lost everything. You know, he has nothing now."
She described how he invested with Madoff because of "insider ties" and how all these promises of a worry-free retirement were dashed when Madoff was exposed as a fraud. And I thought I would never meet someone to be swimming in Madoff's circles.
I thought I saw tears shimmering in her eyes but She was so strong.
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die
"You know, he went crazy when she died. His friends all said that he married someone really beautiful, but now, he is married to someone who is really good for him."
She talked of how she entered his life after he lost his first wife to cancer. He lost the plot and was womanising and drinking his life away. She came in and turned him back to his home and his family. Her step children are grateful to her role in bringing the family back together again. She gained their acceptance through sheer grit and determination.
Such strength of character need not be said. These are private traits that an outsider looking in must discern and appreciate. And who knows what it took her to uproot herself from Indonesia to marry an Italian-American 8 years ago and live in the US. And worse, inherit a ready family, when at 40, she was somewhat past her productive years.
She asked me to guess her age. Ladies, never ask me to do that, because I'm damned good at that. If you wanna feel good about yourself, don't ask. I told her, 40s? She said I was very good and said she was 48. I politely told her I would have guessed 42. A white lie, but it probably made her day.
Then she half-bitterly and half-proudly said she is a stepmother of a few children and a grandmother of a few (I think 4) kids. The Chinese use taste to describe certain feelings and perhaps, only she would know the exact taste of that pride.
Her strength of character lay not just in how she gave up her job with a multi-national company to become a stay home wife who cooks daily for her husband and have dinner parties ever so often for her friends and family. "You know, I always include his dead wife's mother every time. She's 82 and we look after her." I think this says it all.
Our conversation went on for many hours, albeit intermittently. She gave me her recipes for southern Italian cooking while I told her where to eat when she visits Singapore. We exchanged contacts and we had a really fun time together. I promised to visit her sometime soon.
And from her, one can tell that her 62 year old husband is fully appreciative of her. Perhaps no one better than him will appreciate the closing stanza of his second life that he has decided to spend with this wonderful woman.
She may be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is she
She, oh she
My blessings to them.
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She ambled along the airplane aisle and began searching for seat 37F. That was the seat beside me and I was certainly not excited about having to be cramped in my little aisle seat in a Boeing 747-400 after losing the space beside me. Being somewhat more generous than I normally am, I looked at her and asked, "37F?"
"Yeah."
"You're here then." I pointed to the seat beside me.
This is my first impression of She. Definitely not a white woman; maybe hispanic, maybe Asian. I'm not too sure. But certainly not a big woman. More Asian, if you ask me to characterise her.
She got past the folks trying to shove their bags into the overhead compartments while I grudgingly removed my safety belt and got up from my seat.
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She carried her carry on handbag - not exactly a very small one - and then settled into her seat.
"I hope these two seats are empty," said She, pointing to 37D and 37E. "Then we can share the four seats between us."
"I heard the plane is full." I was unusually unhopeful.
"Let's hope," she said.
"We'll know once they say 'Cabin doors closed'," I replied rather nonchalantly.
A chatty one. Dear god, is this a joke? It's going to be 19 hours of... I think I'll go along. Anyway, there is nothing more exciting that disturbing that bitch sitting in front of me.
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell
We got the four seats and she happily moved to 37E, leaving a seat between us. There was distance for comfort and proximity for noisy conversation.
"My name is She," she introduced herself. (For her privacy, I oughtn't name her.)
"I am He," I said.
"I'm from Florida," said She. "I'm flying home to Jakarta. I'm going home for the first time after I married to America."
"Yeah, right, Miss Saigon," I cynically thought. Maybe I should ask her how she fished the rich husband. Instead, my politically correct civil servant persona kicked in. "Oh, Florida. I heard it's a nice place. And wow! It must be a pain flying all the way to Jakarta."
"I started at Fort Lauradale," said she. And she began regaling me with her travails since she began her journey in Florida, including how she had to run from terminal to terminal to make the flight. An earlier thunderstorm in the New York/New Jersey area apparently caused airports to shut down for about 2 hours and planes were backlogged.
"My journey actually started at noon, when I had to check out from the hotel," I countered, not wishing to seem that I was in any better shape. Oddly, it was as though I was trying to find an excuse for bad behaviour.
The flight took off and we had our meals, we napped, we chatted and she told me her lifestory somewhat.
She was not as bad as I had thought. Oddly, her generosity was amazing. She was a "sharer", a "giver" of sorts.
"I live in a big house in Florida. 5 rooms... 4000 over square feet," She proudly announced, right after telling me - a complete stranger less than 30 minutes ago - that I should visit her in Florida and stay at her place when I visit.
And then she started showing me digital photographs off her digital camera of her palace. I vaguely recall the house has a pinkish exterior and it looks huge.
"My husband and I used to live in an even larger house. One acre...," She reminisced as she began describing her heaven. "But he lost everything. You know Madoff?"
I'd be damned if I know not of Madoff.
"He invested all his life savings, our retirement money, millions, with him. He lost everything. You know, he has nothing now."
She described how he invested with Madoff because of "insider ties" and how all these promises of a worry-free retirement were dashed when Madoff was exposed as a fraud. And I thought I would never meet someone to be swimming in Madoff's circles.
I thought I saw tears shimmering in her eyes but She was so strong.
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die
"You know, he went crazy when she died. His friends all said that he married someone really beautiful, but now, he is married to someone who is really good for him."
She talked of how she entered his life after he lost his first wife to cancer. He lost the plot and was womanising and drinking his life away. She came in and turned him back to his home and his family. Her step children are grateful to her role in bringing the family back together again. She gained their acceptance through sheer grit and determination.
Such strength of character need not be said. These are private traits that an outsider looking in must discern and appreciate. And who knows what it took her to uproot herself from Indonesia to marry an Italian-American 8 years ago and live in the US. And worse, inherit a ready family, when at 40, she was somewhat past her productive years.
She asked me to guess her age. Ladies, never ask me to do that, because I'm damned good at that. If you wanna feel good about yourself, don't ask. I told her, 40s? She said I was very good and said she was 48. I politely told her I would have guessed 42. A white lie, but it probably made her day.
Then she half-bitterly and half-proudly said she is a stepmother of a few children and a grandmother of a few (I think 4) kids. The Chinese use taste to describe certain feelings and perhaps, only she would know the exact taste of that pride.
Her strength of character lay not just in how she gave up her job with a multi-national company to become a stay home wife who cooks daily for her husband and have dinner parties ever so often for her friends and family. "You know, I always include his dead wife's mother every time. She's 82 and we look after her." I think this says it all.
Our conversation went on for many hours, albeit intermittently. She gave me her recipes for southern Italian cooking while I told her where to eat when she visits Singapore. We exchanged contacts and we had a really fun time together. I promised to visit her sometime soon.
And from her, one can tell that her 62 year old husband is fully appreciative of her. Perhaps no one better than him will appreciate the closing stanza of his second life that he has decided to spend with this wonderful woman.
She may be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is she
She, oh she
My blessings to them.
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