Viral infection after nearly half a year of being well.
Never felt quite that bad... and all my major joints and muscles are aching.
Hate that feeling.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Shooting the breeze
So many things, so little time, so few brain cells, so limited memory. So this will be a so-so entry with many random ramblings haphazardly pieced together.
Think of it as a mental patchwork blanket.
Comic reactions to Greek tragedy. Hey, the fat Greeks are paying the price for fattening up. So why is everyone getting diarrhoea?
Rain. Dense but miniscule lines of water falling from the sky. Just looked out of the window.
Scab. Nicely formed on the head wound. Doctor advised against peeling it off prematurely. In fact, no peeling allowed. Let it drop off normally.
Lethargy. There is work but no interest to work. Money is there but no interest to even earn it.
Waiting. I don't even know for what.
Television programmes. Have some files in the hard disk but not in the Sofa-Burbank mood yet.
Cooking. The simpler the better. The weather is too hot for staying prolonged periods in the kitchen.
Coldness. Ice water tastes better these days because of the unbearable heat.
Shares. A prolonged slow bleed. Nothing seems to be able to staunch the bleed. Yet there are people who believe that a bloodied bull is still a bull.
Housing. Prices sky high. People still flocking showrooms and buying, overstretching themselves. Maybe some of them swallowed a fly. Maybe they'll die.
Cars. Prices not that high. People still fleeing showrooms and resisting, denying themselves. Maybe some of them should swallow a fly. The prices are at the new rock bottom. With the new COE cuts, with further cuts in July, there is no way but up for car prices. And by the time the silly car buyers realise that, COE prices will shoot through the roof again.
Chaos. My greatest fear is there is NOT ENOUGH chaos. Abhisit will dissolve Thai Parliament in September. Why so long? Haven't he realised that he might be sublimated by then? UK elections are almost a done deal. Labour exit widely expected. Bigoted woman, eh? Greece violence. So happy tree friend.
Crazy. Nothing wrong with being crazy. Really. At this rate, against what standard do we measure normal?
Think of it as a mental patchwork blanket.
Comic reactions to Greek tragedy. Hey, the fat Greeks are paying the price for fattening up. So why is everyone getting diarrhoea?
Rain. Dense but miniscule lines of water falling from the sky. Just looked out of the window.
Scab. Nicely formed on the head wound. Doctor advised against peeling it off prematurely. In fact, no peeling allowed. Let it drop off normally.
Lethargy. There is work but no interest to work. Money is there but no interest to even earn it.
Waiting. I don't even know for what.
Television programmes. Have some files in the hard disk but not in the Sofa-Burbank mood yet.
Cooking. The simpler the better. The weather is too hot for staying prolonged periods in the kitchen.
Coldness. Ice water tastes better these days because of the unbearable heat.
Shares. A prolonged slow bleed. Nothing seems to be able to staunch the bleed. Yet there are people who believe that a bloodied bull is still a bull.
Housing. Prices sky high. People still flocking showrooms and buying, overstretching themselves. Maybe some of them swallowed a fly. Maybe they'll die.
Cars. Prices not that high. People still fleeing showrooms and resisting, denying themselves. Maybe some of them should swallow a fly. The prices are at the new rock bottom. With the new COE cuts, with further cuts in July, there is no way but up for car prices. And by the time the silly car buyers realise that, COE prices will shoot through the roof again.
Chaos. My greatest fear is there is NOT ENOUGH chaos. Abhisit will dissolve Thai Parliament in September. Why so long? Haven't he realised that he might be sublimated by then? UK elections are almost a done deal. Labour exit widely expected. Bigoted woman, eh? Greece violence. So happy tree friend.
Crazy. Nothing wrong with being crazy. Really. At this rate, against what standard do we measure normal?
Monday, May 03, 2010
Writing Proofs
I will be teaching a course in graph theory to some secondary school kids in about three weeks and as I prepared the course materials, one key point stuck out: Students need to write proofs.
Writing proofs is inevitable in dealing with most mathematics. Many theorems come with their most commonly used proof or proofs. The Pythagoras' Theorem, for instance, can be proven over a hundred ways.
In comparison, some problem solving questions require a proof as a solution but there are unfortunately no standard proofs that the instructor can rely on or turn to.
Particularly in graph theory, many questions require solutions that are highly demanding. It is not enough to say that the answer is "n". Often, you have to show why all other answers other than "n" are not acceptable, even though they satisfy the general conditions of the question.
In this regard, constructing a logically water-tight proof is difficult because many of us do not use contradictions and exhaustion as strategies, unless we are involved in certain types of work. It would not be suitable for me to exclaim the beauty and prowess of such proof techniques as I don't want to be guilty of playing up my areas of interest and "semi-expertise" but having a good grasp of the techniques can help solve a lot of problems quite elegantly.
The proof by contradiction is often elusive and hard to figure out. One needs to know which condition is likely to undergo "reductio ad absurdum". One common claim that relies on the proof by contradiction is "square root 2 cannot be expressed as a fraction with whole number numerators and denominators." Intuitively, this looks simple and the claim seems more like an axiom than something to be proven. However, it is not axiomatic and how do we construct a proof to validate our intuition? Interested readers can click on the word proof to see a proof by contradiction of that claim.
Proof by exhaustion is something elementary learners of mathematics used to resort to when they first come across claims such as "there is no largest integer." Frequently, a child who has learnt concepts such as a million, a billion, a trillion, and so on will attempt things like "a trillion trillion trillion" and when you tell them, "how about you add one?" they will quickly come to terms that exhaustion is plain exhausting. And frequently, exhaustion does not prove anything. Before long, proof by exhaustion becomes an antiquated technique to these learners of mathematics, until they are forced to face their inner demons again.
In graph theory, in particular, the need to establish uniqueness in the solution often means that the other competing answers must be rendered inadmissible. While it is probably not sensible to show a full graph theory question to elicit thoughts on how to construct answers that rely on the proof by exhaustion, folks who have a propensity for factorization might delight in seeing how the proof by exhaustion is daintly applied in this example: If n is an integer, then (n^7 - n) is a multiple of 7.
The study of mathematics can often lead its learners to develop logical thought processes. Writing proofs is one of the tools that play an important role in developing a person's logical acuity. As with all pursuits, there is no gain until one gets their hands dirty and begin practicing.
I hope my students will appreciate the package that I'm putting together for them. After all, whoever said learning was always easy?
Writing proofs is inevitable in dealing with most mathematics. Many theorems come with their most commonly used proof or proofs. The Pythagoras' Theorem, for instance, can be proven over a hundred ways.
In comparison, some problem solving questions require a proof as a solution but there are unfortunately no standard proofs that the instructor can rely on or turn to.
Particularly in graph theory, many questions require solutions that are highly demanding. It is not enough to say that the answer is "n". Often, you have to show why all other answers other than "n" are not acceptable, even though they satisfy the general conditions of the question.
In this regard, constructing a logically water-tight proof is difficult because many of us do not use contradictions and exhaustion as strategies, unless we are involved in certain types of work. It would not be suitable for me to exclaim the beauty and prowess of such proof techniques as I don't want to be guilty of playing up my areas of interest and "semi-expertise" but having a good grasp of the techniques can help solve a lot of problems quite elegantly.
The proof by contradiction is often elusive and hard to figure out. One needs to know which condition is likely to undergo "reductio ad absurdum". One common claim that relies on the proof by contradiction is "square root 2 cannot be expressed as a fraction with whole number numerators and denominators." Intuitively, this looks simple and the claim seems more like an axiom than something to be proven. However, it is not axiomatic and how do we construct a proof to validate our intuition? Interested readers can click on the word proof to see a proof by contradiction of that claim.
Proof by exhaustion is something elementary learners of mathematics used to resort to when they first come across claims such as "there is no largest integer." Frequently, a child who has learnt concepts such as a million, a billion, a trillion, and so on will attempt things like "a trillion trillion trillion" and when you tell them, "how about you add one?" they will quickly come to terms that exhaustion is plain exhausting. And frequently, exhaustion does not prove anything. Before long, proof by exhaustion becomes an antiquated technique to these learners of mathematics, until they are forced to face their inner demons again.
In graph theory, in particular, the need to establish uniqueness in the solution often means that the other competing answers must be rendered inadmissible. While it is probably not sensible to show a full graph theory question to elicit thoughts on how to construct answers that rely on the proof by exhaustion, folks who have a propensity for factorization might delight in seeing how the proof by exhaustion is daintly applied in this example: If n is an integer, then (n^7 - n) is a multiple of 7.
The study of mathematics can often lead its learners to develop logical thought processes. Writing proofs is one of the tools that play an important role in developing a person's logical acuity. As with all pursuits, there is no gain until one gets their hands dirty and begin practicing.
I hope my students will appreciate the package that I'm putting together for them. After all, whoever said learning was always easy?
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Labour Day
It was more a Laborious Day than it was Labour Day.
I started off the day making morning beverages when I spilled Milo on the floor. I took a cloth, bent down, and wiped the powder off the kitchen floor tiles. As I got up, my head smashed right against the corner of the kitchen cabinet door and I literally understood first hand the meaning of "where stars are born."
I immediately applied pressure to the impact area and then I closed the cabinet door. "Damn it," I cursed silently. It was really really painful. Although the skull is a rather thick piece of bone, the scalp had many nerve endings and, if there were any open wounds, prone to bleeding.
As luck would have it, the wound began to bleed. Oh my Guanyin Niangniang, as Aunty Lucy would say. I pressed kitchen towels against the wound as it bled, hoping that I could stop the blood. Meanwhile, I ransacked my rather badly stocked first aid box for something to clean the wound.
No antiseptic solution. No Burnol. No... well, it's no everything useful basically. I found a betamethasone. It's a steriod and these don't go with open wounds generally. Being Labour Day, my family doctor is not open for business. I can't go there to get help.
I won't want to go round looking for a doctor who is open today. In fact, I wasn't even sure I was interested to find one. I cancelled my morning appointments and got Victor to drive me to the hospital.
Because of the nature of the injury, the nurse taking temperature at the entrance registered for me at the Accident and Emergency Department at Changi Hospital.
After a rather long wait, and after turning to a few clean sides of a new piece of kitchen towel to staunch the bleeding. It is NOT a serious bleed, but it is irritating enough to have blood oozing out non-stop.
By the time I got triaged, it was almost one and a half hour after I got cut. The bleeding, the nurse said, has stopped. But the doctor will get me some antiseptic cream and have my wound cleaned.
Waited for my turn after triage and saw the doctor. A locum at the A&E, the guy was young and very patiently impatient. Said a lot of things I already knew but I wasn't too bothered. After all, as long as he got the wound cleaned and then prescribe me some antiseptic cream.
Then if there were any justice, I didn't know it existed. The A&E only carried tetracycline based antiseptic creams. I was allergic to the 4-ringed antibiotic. So I could only have my wound cleaned but I can't get any antiseptic cream for it. I was prescribed only a cleaning solution to cleanse the wound. (In fact, the doctor prescribed the tetracycline cream, only to have me stop him!)
After the ordeal at A&E, we left as the wondrous emergency room filled up so suddenly.
And my day has barely begun.
I started off the day making morning beverages when I spilled Milo on the floor. I took a cloth, bent down, and wiped the powder off the kitchen floor tiles. As I got up, my head smashed right against the corner of the kitchen cabinet door and I literally understood first hand the meaning of "where stars are born."
I immediately applied pressure to the impact area and then I closed the cabinet door. "Damn it," I cursed silently. It was really really painful. Although the skull is a rather thick piece of bone, the scalp had many nerve endings and, if there were any open wounds, prone to bleeding.
As luck would have it, the wound began to bleed. Oh my Guanyin Niangniang, as Aunty Lucy would say. I pressed kitchen towels against the wound as it bled, hoping that I could stop the blood. Meanwhile, I ransacked my rather badly stocked first aid box for something to clean the wound.
No antiseptic solution. No Burnol. No... well, it's no everything useful basically. I found a betamethasone. It's a steriod and these don't go with open wounds generally. Being Labour Day, my family doctor is not open for business. I can't go there to get help.
I won't want to go round looking for a doctor who is open today. In fact, I wasn't even sure I was interested to find one. I cancelled my morning appointments and got Victor to drive me to the hospital.
Because of the nature of the injury, the nurse taking temperature at the entrance registered for me at the Accident and Emergency Department at Changi Hospital.
After a rather long wait, and after turning to a few clean sides of a new piece of kitchen towel to staunch the bleeding. It is NOT a serious bleed, but it is irritating enough to have blood oozing out non-stop.
By the time I got triaged, it was almost one and a half hour after I got cut. The bleeding, the nurse said, has stopped. But the doctor will get me some antiseptic cream and have my wound cleaned.
Waited for my turn after triage and saw the doctor. A locum at the A&E, the guy was young and very patiently impatient. Said a lot of things I already knew but I wasn't too bothered. After all, as long as he got the wound cleaned and then prescribe me some antiseptic cream.
Then if there were any justice, I didn't know it existed. The A&E only carried tetracycline based antiseptic creams. I was allergic to the 4-ringed antibiotic. So I could only have my wound cleaned but I can't get any antiseptic cream for it. I was prescribed only a cleaning solution to cleanse the wound. (In fact, the doctor prescribed the tetracycline cream, only to have me stop him!)
After the ordeal at A&E, we left as the wondrous emergency room filled up so suddenly.
And my day has barely begun.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Are the stars lining up...?
Goldman Sachs' scandal and run in with the SEC
Greece's debt downgraded to junk status by Standard & Poor
China's harshest tightening measures yet to curb property speculation
US is braying for the Chinese to allow the Yuan to appreciate but Grandpa Hu and Grandpa Wen are still in their Sichua Earthquake mode - "you must hold on. Grandpa Wen is here and we will save you. Hold on to my hands."
The Thais are gearing up for a battle. The Thai Monarch doesn't seem to be holding up that well.
Myanmar and Cambodia are holding polls soon.
The sharemarket is seeking a clear direction. Singapore investors seeming bearishly bullish. Odd but true.
At this rate, are we getting back to 2008 not long after we got out of the same mess?
I hope Grandpa Wen will now soon let go of his vice like grip on the Yuan. I've got some and I don't mind making a little profit.
If the army and the police fight the Red Shirts, and the Yellow Shirts join in the fight, what colour shirt will the Thais end up wearing? Rainbow coloured shirts? Hm...?
Singapore housing prices have risen so much I'm effectively priced out of the market.
Singaporeans and many people around the world are hoarding property like the new oil.
Interest rates are at an unbelievable low.
People are over-stretched on many fronts.
Salaries are NOT increasing.
Share markets are volatile and a week's gains is not quite enough to cover a day's losses.
Things are getting way too expensive and inflation is threatening to empty our wallets.
To quote Barbarella Posh Beckham, "In April, May, and June, everything is coming up roses."
Yeah, right. I do hope those bloody red rose petals are just covered with the purest of colouring agents - blood.
Oh well, maybe I should just literally scratch any itch rather than make serious moves into any investments now.
Greece's debt downgraded to junk status by Standard & Poor
China's harshest tightening measures yet to curb property speculation
US is braying for the Chinese to allow the Yuan to appreciate but Grandpa Hu and Grandpa Wen are still in their Sichua Earthquake mode - "you must hold on. Grandpa Wen is here and we will save you. Hold on to my hands."
The Thais are gearing up for a battle. The Thai Monarch doesn't seem to be holding up that well.
Myanmar and Cambodia are holding polls soon.
The sharemarket is seeking a clear direction. Singapore investors seeming bearishly bullish. Odd but true.
At this rate, are we getting back to 2008 not long after we got out of the same mess?
I hope Grandpa Wen will now soon let go of his vice like grip on the Yuan. I've got some and I don't mind making a little profit.
If the army and the police fight the Red Shirts, and the Yellow Shirts join in the fight, what colour shirt will the Thais end up wearing? Rainbow coloured shirts? Hm...?
Singapore housing prices have risen so much I'm effectively priced out of the market.
Singaporeans and many people around the world are hoarding property like the new oil.
Interest rates are at an unbelievable low.
People are over-stretched on many fronts.
Salaries are NOT increasing.
Share markets are volatile and a week's gains is not quite enough to cover a day's losses.
Things are getting way too expensive and inflation is threatening to empty our wallets.
To quote Barbarella Posh Beckham, "In April, May, and June, everything is coming up roses."
Yeah, right. I do hope those bloody red rose petals are just covered with the purest of colouring agents - blood.
Oh well, maybe I should just literally scratch any itch rather than make serious moves into any investments now.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Aging and Revealing the Inner Ah Beng
The full lyrics are reproduced here. Maybe I should provide an English equivalent for readers who do not understand my Chinese dialect.
Don't accuse me of being mushy - I'd say that only Taiwanese song writers are capable of such mush. And - without sounding like a male chauvinistic pig - I think such devoted women are extinct already. They can probably be found only in Taiwanese serials. :)
家后
作词：郑进一/陈维祥 作曲：郑进一 编曲：张乃仁
有一日咱若老 (When we become old one day)
找无人甲咱有孝 (And there isn't anyone to accompany us)
我会陪你坐惦椅寮 (I will sit with you at the settees)
听你讲少年的时袸你有外贤 (And listen to your stories of your valiant youth)
食好食歹 无计较 (Whether I get good food or not does not matter)
怨天怨地 嘛袜晓 (I also won't blame the gods for anything)
你的手 我会甲你牵条条 (Your hands, I will hold them tightly in mine)
因为我是你的家后 (Because I am the one at the back of your house [aka wife])
阮将青春嫁乎恁兜 (I gave my youth to your family when I married you)
阮对少年随你随甲老 (I shall stay devoted to you till we both turn old)
人情世事己经看透透 (I've learnt let go and not sweat the small stuff)
有啥人比你卡重要 (Because nothing is more important than you)
阮的一生献乎恁兜 (I have devoted my entire life to your family)
才知幸福是吵吵闹闹 (I've realised bliss lies in the nagging and the noise)
等待返去的时袸若到 (When it is time for us to go back)
我会让你先走 (I will let you go first)
因为我会不甘 (Because I am reluctant)
放你 为我目屎流 (To let you shed tears for me)
有一日咱若老 (When we become old one day)
有媳妇子儿有孝 (And we have dutiful sons and daughters in law)
你若无聊 拿咱的相片 (If you are bored, we can take out our pictures)
看卡早结婚的时袸 你有外缘投 (And see how smart you looked when we got married)
穿好穿歹 无计较 (Whether I get good clothes to wear or not, I'm not particular)
怪东怪西 嘛袜晓 (I will also not blame others for anything)
你的心 我会永远记条条 (I will forever remember your love for me)
因为我是你的家后 (Because I am the one at the back of your house [aka wife])
阮将青春嫁乎恁兜 (I gave my youth to your family when I married you)
阮对少年随你随甲老 (I shall stay devoted to you till we both turn old)
人情世事己经看透透 (I've learnt let go and not sweat the small stuff)
有啥人比你卡重要 (Because nothing is more important than you)
阮的一生献乎恁兜 (I have devoted my entire life to your family)
才知幸福是吵吵闹闹 (I've realised bliss lies in the nagging and the noise)
等待返去的时袸若到 (When it is time for us to go back)
你着让我先走 (You have to let me go first)
因为我吗不甘 (Because I'm also reluctant)
看你 为我目屎流 (To see you shed tears for me)
The beauty of the language and the skills of the song writer is rather amazing. If one were able to appreciate the language, the intention was for both husband and wife to die at the same time, so each is spared the heartbreak.
Nice song, I'd say.
Friday, April 23, 2010
2012 with The Probligo
This is an IMAGINARY dialogue that The Probligo (P) and Teflonman (T) might have on Armeggedon if we ever met up.
This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.
Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.
In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)
T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.
P: Hm...
Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.
P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?
T: Then where would you prefer to sit?
P: Let's sit here.
T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.
T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.
T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.
P: It comes. Booms...
T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.
P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.
T: Mm hm...
P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.
T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.
P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.
T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.
T: Tsunami?
T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.
P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...
P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.
T: The 3 men...?
P feigned ignorance.
P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?
T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?
P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.
P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.
T: And tsunamis too?
P: Perhaps.
T: But won't they cancel each other out?
P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.
T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.
P: We'll be steamed alive...
T: In a sulphurous pit no less.
P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?
T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.
T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?
P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.
T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.
P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?
T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.
P: You're really good at cussing, yah?
T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.
P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.
T: I'll see what I can do.
Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.
T: You guys make small sandwiches.
P: Really?
T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.
P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...
P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.
P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.
T: What? Then what about bread?
P: There's a loaf at home.
T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...
P: Want an apple?
T: Ok.
P: Here.
T: Windfall?
P: How'd you guess?
T: It's all brown.
P: Oops. Wine?
T: I don't drink.
P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.
T: Maybe.
T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.
T: Water tastes better than wine.
P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?
T: You know, the plans never changed.
P: What are you going to do tonight?
T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!
P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.
T: True. Never stopped Obama.
P: Don't get me started on America.
T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!
P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.
A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.
T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.
Both men walked out of the Science Centre.
T: I'm hungry.
P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.
T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?
P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.
T: You have an ax to grind with TF?
P: No. Yes. No. Yes....
T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."
P: Do you eat dog?
T: Yeah.
P: Real dogs?
T: Yes.
P: Real dogs really?
T: Yes yeah yessy.
P: Ew...
T: There.
T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.
T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"
P: Maybe. Why?
T: How does canine taste?
This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.
Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.
In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)
T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.
P: Hm...
Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.
P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?
T: Then where would you prefer to sit?
P: Let's sit here.
T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.
T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.
T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.
P: It comes. Booms...
T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.
P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.
T: Mm hm...
P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.
T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.
P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.
T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.
T: Tsunami?
T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.
P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...
P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.
T: The 3 men...?
P feigned ignorance.
P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?
T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?
P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.
P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.
T: And tsunamis too?
P: Perhaps.
T: But won't they cancel each other out?
P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.
T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.
P: We'll be steamed alive...
T: In a sulphurous pit no less.
P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?
T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.
T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?
P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.
T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.
P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?
T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.
P: You're really good at cussing, yah?
T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.
P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.
T: I'll see what I can do.
Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.
T: You guys make small sandwiches.
P: Really?
T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.
P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...
P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.
P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.
T: What? Then what about bread?
P: There's a loaf at home.
T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...
P: Want an apple?
T: Ok.
P: Here.
T: Windfall?
P: How'd you guess?
T: It's all brown.
P: Oops. Wine?
T: I don't drink.
P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.
T: Maybe.
T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.
T: Water tastes better than wine.
P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?
T: You know, the plans never changed.
P: What are you going to do tonight?
T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!
P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.
T: True. Never stopped Obama.
P: Don't get me started on America.
T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!
P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.
A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.
T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.
Both men walked out of the Science Centre.
T: I'm hungry.
P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.
T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?
P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.
T: You have an ax to grind with TF?
P: No. Yes. No. Yes....
T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."
P: Do you eat dog?
T: Yeah.
P: Real dogs?
T: Yes.
P: Real dogs really?
T: Yes yeah yessy.
P: Ew...
T: There.
T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.
T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"
P: Maybe. Why?
T: How does canine taste?
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Badly written songs or poor singers
Some times, I don't blame her.
I mean, when song writers write songs, they should think about audience perception. Not everyone has the lyrics to the songs and not all singers can sing clearly.
For the longest time, I thought the chorus for Irreplaceable begins with "You must run over me, you must run over me..." and
All the Single Ladies began with "All the single legs, all the single legs..."
I'm not against singers showing off their vocal prowess or song writers trying to show off, but there is a limit to how many syllables can be shoved into a single hemidemisemiquaver note.
In Chinese songs, however, there are songs where the meanings get distorted. For instance,
has its lyrics been spoofed. It used to mean "Love's Anthem" and the new title is "Brother Piggy's Love". This spoof is not without history. Piggy, in Journey to the West (aka Monkey King), used to be a lascivious general in Heaven. He was banished to earth as a pig headed creature for running afoul with Heavenly Laws.
Of course, Jay Chou, with his garbled singing style, has had many of his songs turned R- or X-rated.
The ordinary (wo)man's perverted mind cannot be underestimated. But with all things, there must exist suitable impetus to spur the thoughts. The various poorly written songs and poorly executed songs have definitely played a large role in this.
We of course shall exclude intentionally perverted songs such as "The Horny Goatherd" from this discussion as that is a different story.
I mean, when song writers write songs, they should think about audience perception. Not everyone has the lyrics to the songs and not all singers can sing clearly.
For the longest time, I thought the chorus for Irreplaceable begins with "You must run over me, you must run over me..." and
All the Single Ladies began with "All the single legs, all the single legs..."
I'm not against singers showing off their vocal prowess or song writers trying to show off, but there is a limit to how many syllables can be shoved into a single hemidemisemiquaver note.
In Chinese songs, however, there are songs where the meanings get distorted. For instance,
has its lyrics been spoofed. It used to mean "Love's Anthem" and the new title is "Brother Piggy's Love". This spoof is not without history. Piggy, in Journey to the West (aka Monkey King), used to be a lascivious general in Heaven. He was banished to earth as a pig headed creature for running afoul with Heavenly Laws.
Of course, Jay Chou, with his garbled singing style, has had many of his songs turned R- or X-rated.
The ordinary (wo)man's perverted mind cannot be underestimated. But with all things, there must exist suitable impetus to spur the thoughts. The various poorly written songs and poorly executed songs have definitely played a large role in this.
We of course shall exclude intentionally perverted songs such as "The Horny Goatherd" from this discussion as that is a different story.
Friday, April 16, 2010
What we need next...
Following the Eyjafjallajoekull volcanic eruption, what we now need are ...
... Mayon (in the Philippines) erupts
... Etna (in Italy) erupts
... Kilauea (in Hawaii) erupts
... Asama (in Japan) erupts
... Ruapehu (in New Zealand) erupts
... Llaima and Chaitén (in Chile) erupt
and each sends a column of ash so big that we get 24/7 night for the next few months.
That would be so exciting.
I'm faking a "flash forward." I'm feeling so 2012 now. Hee hee...
... Mayon (in the Philippines) erupts
... Etna (in Italy) erupts
... Kilauea (in Hawaii) erupts
... Asama (in Japan) erupts
... Ruapehu (in New Zealand) erupts
... Llaima and Chaitén (in Chile) erupt
and each sends a column of ash so big that we get 24/7 night for the next few months.
That would be so exciting.
I'm faking a "flash forward." I'm feeling so 2012 now. Hee hee...
Forty Cents
My morning exercise session was followed by a visit to the vegetarian noodles stall where I bought two packets of noodles. It's always good to stock up a spare packet since I am usually the loser in the inertia fights, especially during my holiday breaks. Each packet costs $2.30 and I had a $5 note on me.
Thereafter, I had 40 cents. What can a man do with 40 cents?
Honestly, after I had scoured the entire neighbourhood, I found out that 40 cents can get me a half-past six curry puff from the malay stall near Shop and Save Supermarket.
It's really awfully pathetic, you know? I remember the days when my recess money was a mere 50 cents. What can one get for 40 cents these days?
Anyone?
Thereafter, I had 40 cents. What can a man do with 40 cents?
Honestly, after I had scoured the entire neighbourhood, I found out that 40 cents can get me a half-past six curry puff from the malay stall near Shop and Save Supermarket.
It's really awfully pathetic, you know? I remember the days when my recess money was a mere 50 cents. What can one get for 40 cents these days?
Anyone?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Alternatives
Sometimes, it is easier to find a song that best reflects how you are feeling rather than to express it in words.
As I get older, there are things that aren't worth storage space in my mind any more. I don't recall many of the things that used to diss me lots when I was at the PRC School. Honestly, I only remember the gist - the key lessons if you prefer - of why I am who I am today.
And so, here is today's song selection. If I were to find a common theme, it would be Self.
As I get older, there are things that aren't worth storage space in my mind any more. I don't recall many of the things that used to diss me lots when I was at the PRC School. Honestly, I only remember the gist - the key lessons if you prefer - of why I am who I am today.
And so, here is today's song selection. If I were to find a common theme, it would be Self.
风筝
因为我知道你是个容易担心的小孩子
所以我将线交你手中 却也不敢飞得太远
不管我随着风飞翔到云间我希望你能看得见
就算我偶尔会贪玩迷了路也知道你在等着我
我是一个贪玩又自由的风筝每天都会让你担忧
如果有一天迷失风中 要如何回到你身边
因为我知道你是个容易担心的小孩子
所以我会在乌云来时轻轻滑落在你怀中
我是一个贪玩又自由的风筝每天都会让你担忧
如果有一天迷失风中 要如何回到你身边
贪玩又自由的风筝 每天都游戏在天空
如果有一天扯断了线 你是否会回来寻找我
如果有一天迷失风中 带我回到你的怀中
因为我知道你是个容易担心的小孩子
所以我在飞翔的时候 却也不敢飞得太远
可能是跟老婆交代的一首歌。可能老牛吃嫩草, 可能在外打架, 可能...
但是如果有一天迷失风中 带我回到你的怀中。绝世聪明坏男人还是懂得怎么做的。
但願人長久
明月幾時有 把酒問青天
不知天上宮闕 今夕是何年
我欲乘風歸去 唯恐瓊樓玉宇
高處不勝寒 起舞弄清影 何似在人間
轉朱閣低綺戶照無眠
不應有恨何事長向別時圓
人有悲歡離合 月有陰晴圓缺
此事古難全 但願人長久
千里共嬋娟
我欲乘風歸去 唯恐瓊樓玉宇
高處不勝寒 起舞弄清影
何似在人間
轉朱閣低綺戶照無眠
不應有恨何事長向別時圓
人有悲歡離合 月有陰晴圓缺
此事古難全 但願人長久
千里共嬋娟
王菲-紅豆
作詞：林夕 ／ 作曲：柳重言
還沒好好的感受 雪花綻放的氣候
我們一起顫抖 會更明白 甚麼是溫柔
還沒跟你牽著手 走過荒蕪的沙丘
可能從此以後 學會珍惜 天長和地久
有時候 有時候 我會相信一切有盡頭
相聚離開 都有時候 沒有甚麼會永垂不朽
可是我 有時候 寧願選擇留戀不放手
等到風景都看透 也許你會陪我 看細水長流
還沒為你把紅豆 熬成纏綿的傷口
然後一起分享 會更明白 相思的哀愁
還沒好好的感受 醒著親吻的溫柔
可能在我左右 你才追求 孤獨的自由
有時候 有時候 我會相信一切有盡頭
相聚離開 都有時候 沒有甚麼會永垂不朽
可是我 有時候 寧願選擇留戀不放手
等到風景都看透 也許你會陪我 看細水長流
Familiarly Remote
Just visited my alma mater last week to conduct a training session for some of the students.
It's been more than 2 decades since I've graduated and honestly, apart from the familiar school crest and the school motto, nothing I saw that day even resembled what I remembered as a student there.
I saw monkeys. Students have lost the ability to behave themselves. Discipline is lax and poor conduct was rampant. There was noise. Sheer pandemonium. Endless senseless screaming, running around, messing around. It was nothing like the erudite atmosphere that we had in the past.
I met an ex-teacher and not unexpectedly, she couldn't quite remember who I was. It was after all more than twenty years. I took a look at the staff photo and saw a few familiar faces. Those were the teachers who had taught me when I was a student there. However, was I going to face more "You look familiar but I can't quite remember your name?"
I finished my lesson quickly and made a rapid exit.
The school is now entirely different from the nurturing place I used to remember. Or is my memory failing...?
It's been more than 2 decades since I've graduated and honestly, apart from the familiar school crest and the school motto, nothing I saw that day even resembled what I remembered as a student there.
I saw monkeys. Students have lost the ability to behave themselves. Discipline is lax and poor conduct was rampant. There was noise. Sheer pandemonium. Endless senseless screaming, running around, messing around. It was nothing like the erudite atmosphere that we had in the past.
I met an ex-teacher and not unexpectedly, she couldn't quite remember who I was. It was after all more than twenty years. I took a look at the staff photo and saw a few familiar faces. Those were the teachers who had taught me when I was a student there. However, was I going to face more "You look familiar but I can't quite remember your name?"
I finished my lesson quickly and made a rapid exit.
The school is now entirely different from the nurturing place I used to remember. Or is my memory failing...?
Thursday, April 01, 2010
HDB Millionnaire?
My darling government should be concerned. In fact, it should be very concerned. Clearly, Singaporeans are now not afraid of their government. At least, not in the investment realms. Ok, add marriage and having babies to that list of things that Singaporeans simply don't care two hoots about what the men and women in white are urging us to do.
Singapore is likely to witness the first case of an HDB apartment - with a 99-year lease - to be transacted at a whisker under $1 million dollars. For those like my fortunate friends in the US who are not aware of leased land, the government allows Singaporeans to own their HDB flats for a lease period of 99 years. While that is stated on paper, Singaporeans will have to give up their flat should the government want to conduct en bloc upgrading of the estate or when the housing lease is up, whichever is sooner. At the current state, the former is happening more frequently than the latter. I have yet to see 99-year-old flats being repossessed by the state.
I shall not delve into the ethics of evicting me from my home - technically, I am not even an HDB apartment owner - or discuss the immorality of forcing me into another housing loan for a new flat that I don't want - many other Singaporeans cannot wait to move out of their free-range chicken farm into a chicken coop - but I shall say that HDB housing, a right of Singaporeans, is now becoming elusive.
It is so elusive that a single man can expect to fork out his arm, his leg and may be what hangs between his leg to buy an HDB flat. And add to that, he can pledge his heart, corneas, lungs, kidneys, and testicles even (!), to secure a housing loan, which he can expect to service for the rest of his life. (The gender under question is intentional - a woman "can expect to service for the rest of her life" sounds way too colourful for the G-rated nature of this innocent looking blog. *Blinks innocently*)
Now that the Bishan Executive Mansionette is going for S$900,000, Singaporeans are now of the belief that the shit hole they live in is worth twice as much as was valued by the HDB valuers.
Before we go forward, let us take a giant step back to see this travesty through the eyes of this innocent blogger. *Blink blink blink (think Bambi)* Let's do some sums!
Total value of unit - $900,000
Cash-over-valuation - $170,000 (This portion needs to be paid for in cash!)
Valuation - $730,000 (I don't quite believe this; EM valuation hardly break 700k)
5% cash downpayment on Valuation - $36,500
15% cash/CPF downpayment on Valuation - $109,500
80% or less bank loan on Valuation - $584,000 (If you decide to take a smaller loan, you have to fork out even more cash or CPF.)
In other words, this buyer has a total of at least $206,500 in cash sitting freely around! House buyers (or potential ones) know that there is still stamp duties to be paid on the house and lawyer fees!
How in the world did this happen?
Many worker bees like us are required to either go out and collect pollen and feed the hive or spend the whole time breeding the Queen Bitch. I mean, the Queen Bee. For the pittance we are often paid, how do we accumulate $200,000 in cash at all? I am hard pressed to come up with HALF that amount, much less have the full $200,000 lying around.
Given the CPF caps that are applied since two recessions ago, CPF is paid for the first $4500 of our salaries. This is again a complicated calculation process but it is suffice to say that there is very little likelihood to build a CPF to that grand scale as above.
Although market watchers will dismiss these HDB windfalls (for the owners) to be one-off, most houseowners will be emboldened by the news and begin withdrawing their units from the market and relaunch them at even higher prices. I have already experienced that with a few units I viewed recently. What will this world come to?
How is it possible for a single Singaporean man to own a roof these days? *Continues in his search for the Widowed Childless Rich Old Dying Datin*
Singapore is likely to witness the first case of an HDB apartment - with a 99-year lease - to be transacted at a whisker under $1 million dollars. For those like my fortunate friends in the US who are not aware of leased land, the government allows Singaporeans to own their HDB flats for a lease period of 99 years. While that is stated on paper, Singaporeans will have to give up their flat should the government want to conduct en bloc upgrading of the estate or when the housing lease is up, whichever is sooner. At the current state, the former is happening more frequently than the latter. I have yet to see 99-year-old flats being repossessed by the state.
I shall not delve into the ethics of evicting me from my home - technically, I am not even an HDB apartment owner - or discuss the immorality of forcing me into another housing loan for a new flat that I don't want - many other Singaporeans cannot wait to move out of their free-range chicken farm into a chicken coop - but I shall say that HDB housing, a right of Singaporeans, is now becoming elusive.
It is so elusive that a single man can expect to fork out his arm, his leg and may be what hangs between his leg to buy an HDB flat. And add to that, he can pledge his heart, corneas, lungs, kidneys, and testicles even (!), to secure a housing loan, which he can expect to service for the rest of his life. (The gender under question is intentional - a woman "can expect to service for the rest of her life" sounds way too colourful for the G-rated nature of this innocent looking blog. *Blinks innocently*)
Now that the Bishan Executive Mansionette is going for S$900,000, Singaporeans are now of the belief that the shit hole they live in is worth twice as much as was valued by the HDB valuers.
Before we go forward, let us take a giant step back to see this travesty through the eyes of this innocent blogger. *Blink blink blink (think Bambi)* Let's do some sums!
Total value of unit - $900,000
Cash-over-valuation - $170,000 (This portion needs to be paid for in cash!)
Valuation - $730,000 (I don't quite believe this; EM valuation hardly break 700k)
5% cash downpayment on Valuation - $36,500
15% cash/CPF downpayment on Valuation - $109,500
80% or less bank loan on Valuation - $584,000 (If you decide to take a smaller loan, you have to fork out even more cash or CPF.)
In other words, this buyer has a total of at least $206,500 in cash sitting freely around! House buyers (or potential ones) know that there is still stamp duties to be paid on the house and lawyer fees!
How in the world did this happen?
Many worker bees like us are required to either go out and collect pollen and feed the hive or spend the whole time breeding the Queen Bitch. I mean, the Queen Bee. For the pittance we are often paid, how do we accumulate $200,000 in cash at all? I am hard pressed to come up with HALF that amount, much less have the full $200,000 lying around.
Given the CPF caps that are applied since two recessions ago, CPF is paid for the first $4500 of our salaries. This is again a complicated calculation process but it is suffice to say that there is very little likelihood to build a CPF to that grand scale as above.
Although market watchers will dismiss these HDB windfalls (for the owners) to be one-off, most houseowners will be emboldened by the news and begin withdrawing their units from the market and relaunch them at even higher prices. I have already experienced that with a few units I viewed recently. What will this world come to?
How is it possible for a single Singaporean man to own a roof these days? *Continues in his search for the Widowed Childless Rich Old Dying Datin*
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