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.
Monday, August 31, 2009
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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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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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...
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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.
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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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