Visited a friend. We got to know each other during the time I taught in SMU. We got along fine and we shared many stories about us. However, our schedules never let us sit down for a good chat much.
Last Saturday, he invited Victor and I to tea at his place. (Interesting that I had to write "Victor and I" because the English Language dictates that I must come in at the end of a conjoined list. But you get the drift.) He lived in the outskirts of Newton/Orchard. His house was built in 1927 on a plot of land at the top of a little hill.
There was a main house and a garage. He moved out of the house and lived in the garage after customizing it into a quaint little house. Quite honestly, I've been to the homes of rich people but this friend is so understated about so many things. I never knew how rich he is and I probably will never want to know. It is not in my place or interest.
To preserve my friend's privacy and to cut the long story short, I am given a little glimpse of what it feels like to live in the lap of luxury. Quite honestly, I bet many people wouldn't mind living in that garage. (Actually, he told me that his garage turned house was featured in an architectural magazine some time ago.)
There!
Showing posts with label environment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label environment. Show all posts
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I'm going green
Warning: This post in tongue-in-cheek.
I'm pledging to save the earth by helping it go green.
I resolve to eat only meat. This way I can help eradicate all the animals that are feeding on plants. When there are less animals to feed on plants, there will be more plants left over.
With more plants on Earth, it will go green.
I should now be eligible to scream in that Saving Gaia advertisement:
If I am eating meat, would you allow me?
And then I can look really motherly and ask:
If I were Mother Nature, would you let me save my plants?
I'm pledging to save the earth by helping it go green.
I resolve to eat only meat. This way I can help eradicate all the animals that are feeding on plants. When there are less animals to feed on plants, there will be more plants left over.
With more plants on Earth, it will go green.
I should now be eligible to scream in that Saving Gaia advertisement:
If I am eating meat, would you allow me?
And then I can look really motherly and ask:
If I were Mother Nature, would you let me save my plants?
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Singapore Flyer Showdown
Two friends and I were waiting for our Singapore Flyer ride. We patiently gave way to a horde of progressively barbaric people on an organized trip. We did not mind letting them go up first; after all, the idea was for everyone to have a good time.
The last group of people from the organization, however, did not want to move forward for their ride despite the three of us giving them wide berth in the waiting area. We were hence asked to go ahead into the next arriving capsule.
And for some strange reason, the group behind us felt it was fine to just board the same capsule when they were beckoned on by the ushers. Common sense dictated that they wait for the next one.
Of course, they came on and made enough noise in a poorly noise-insulated cabin with bare floors, hard seats and single layer glass panels. And if the quality of their lives directly depended on the amount of noise they could make, then they are probably trying to live like gods. You get the point.
My friends and I were offered audio players which we hold to our ears if we wanted to know where to look and make sense of what we see. There is a reason why we needed to hold those players close to our ears; noise is not welcome in the capsule unless you are in search of a splitting headache after the 37 minute ride.
As the doors of the capsule closed, I already made my stand clear about the noise generated by the group: If I were in a different group, I would have waited for the next capsule. Isn't that why the group refused to go up earlier?
The noise abated for a while and soon the din reached ear splitting levels. The people were distributed across the capsule and as each group began to speak louder, the next group had to speak even louder to be heard. I was hearing absolutely nothing from the audio player despite it being turned to maximum volume and me nearly attempting a direct implantation of the device into my ear.
I have had enough.
So I placed the player down and said - loudly enough - "What's the point of the player? It's so noisy there is nothing I can listen! Whole bunch of *profession deleted* who cannot behave in public!"
Eerie, awkward silence ensued.
Great. I love it. I'm loving it indeed.
I will no longer suffer in silence. I shall no longer put up with nonsense. I love the new me.
As the ride went on, the group made some noise here and there but nothing at the levels as before. Logically, in a shared space, one has to be conscious of the people around them. We all give up something in a shared space. I lost an opportunity to speak with my friend from Hong Kong because of these intruders. We won't speak because we don't want to disturb the peace. But if we had a capsule to ourselves, we might just have the conversation.
Given the way most of the folks behaved after my outburst, it was pretty clear that they are aware they have gone overboard. A quick reflection - given their work, they are always asked to reflect on their actions - will tell them that they have invaded the personal space of outsiders in their midst.
As the ride went on, I turned around and spotted a older woman, probably coming 60s, gesturing to her colleagues in the capsule before ours (i.e. above us, as the flyer rotated on its centre). She was showing that she had to zip her mouth and then she raised her finger up her temple and showed screwing motions.
Ah, if that is not inviting another rebuke. So I told her, "Eh, you don't have to do that. What's wrong with being told off when you are overly noisy?"
She argued that she's calling the flyer management to ask if making noise is allowed in the capsule.
No, I didn't go ballistics. I just wondered if so many years in her job made her go nuts. What is it that is not in her culture that does not tell her that making that much noise and affecting other people is wrong?
I replied that some noise is fine but that amount of noise was plainly unacceptable. I reiterated that if they had wanted to make so much noise, they could have waited for the next capsule. (You do the math: There are 28 capsules and a ride is 37 minutes. In less than a couple of minutes, the group could give everyone instant deafness in a nutshell!)
She then said that she was on her first trip up the flyer and was very excited and her colleagues too. And now they have to ride in such silence and she felt very sorry for herself. She said that she feels sorry to be told off by a foreigner.
I told her it was my first trip too. And I am equally sorry that I had to tick them off this way because they simply went overboard.
And then the next stupider thing happened: One of her colleagues said, "You have the audio players and we don't have any. So how do we not make noise when you take all those players?"
Oh my god. If God made them think before they spoke, they would probably have looked just half as stupid. On our way in, we saw about 50 or so audio players at the entrance. We were asked if we wanted these players. Given that the group of folks were around 80 (max) and that most of the earlier 3 groups had not taken those players, these people up in the capsule would have had an opportunity to take a player if they had wanted.
Excitement or not, this was a lame attempt to salvage anything. If anything at all, I had more respect for those who were aware that they had gone overboard and generally kept quiet.
Old woman insisted that she will write to the management to ask if she can make noise. I told her to go ahead and write. You know, I have so little regard for her and her profession that I had in good mind to drop her minister an email and ask if her behaviour was becoming an employee of the state. But I won't do that; it is not in my interest to make her lose her job or my tax payer monies might be used to keep her alive thereafter.
I also reiterated that a reasonable noise level is acceptable and I won't complain about that. The ride went on later and the group did resume making some noise. However, they did watch themselves and policed the noise levels.
As a fellow Singaporean, I am appalled that we have fallen that far on social graces. Have we forgotten that we are not the centre of the universe? Have we disregarded that in our need for gratification, there are others who are seeking the same and our actions might have deprived others of it?
I may not have done a great job here myself but on hindsight, an outburst was still the best decision; I was certainly not in the mood for a protracted quarrel, which I was fairly certain the outcome of any request since among them was this quarrelsome old lady who is also impervious to reason.
What was the woman thinking when she made those gestures? Haven't we been guilty too of critising the Mainland Chinese for their uncouth, noise-making, and public peace disrupting behaviour but yet do the same in private?
Who are we to throw stones when we live in the same glasshouse? Who are we to tie the proverbial witches to the stakes for stoning and burning when many of us are witches too, except we are closeted?
How is loud noise in an enclosed space an acceptable behaviour when we, flyer visitors, are offered audio players that played only into our ears and not blasted through a public sound system? How is loud noise acceptable when most of members in that group will tell their charges to shut up (or words to that effect) if the noise levels get too high, and make that noise in an open room?
And how is it that old folks Ms Contrarian's age have forgotten basic manners, courtesy, consideration and etiquette? Was she not taught?
On my way out, I went to the ticketing counter and provided feedback on the ride can be made better through sound proofing, off-peak crowd management (especially relating to organizational outings) and capsule design. Oh, and I hope Ms Contrarian writes in and gets a reply to tell her that "for the comfort and pleasure of all riders in the capsule, people should keep their volume down."
To end, I'm going to borrow BHD's closing:
Life is short: Don't waste 37 minutes of it riding the Singapore Flyer.
The last group of people from the organization, however, did not want to move forward for their ride despite the three of us giving them wide berth in the waiting area. We were hence asked to go ahead into the next arriving capsule.
And for some strange reason, the group behind us felt it was fine to just board the same capsule when they were beckoned on by the ushers. Common sense dictated that they wait for the next one.
Of course, they came on and made enough noise in a poorly noise-insulated cabin with bare floors, hard seats and single layer glass panels. And if the quality of their lives directly depended on the amount of noise they could make, then they are probably trying to live like gods. You get the point.
My friends and I were offered audio players which we hold to our ears if we wanted to know where to look and make sense of what we see. There is a reason why we needed to hold those players close to our ears; noise is not welcome in the capsule unless you are in search of a splitting headache after the 37 minute ride.
As the doors of the capsule closed, I already made my stand clear about the noise generated by the group: If I were in a different group, I would have waited for the next capsule. Isn't that why the group refused to go up earlier?
The noise abated for a while and soon the din reached ear splitting levels. The people were distributed across the capsule and as each group began to speak louder, the next group had to speak even louder to be heard. I was hearing absolutely nothing from the audio player despite it being turned to maximum volume and me nearly attempting a direct implantation of the device into my ear.
I have had enough.
So I placed the player down and said - loudly enough - "What's the point of the player? It's so noisy there is nothing I can listen! Whole bunch of *profession deleted* who cannot behave in public!"
Eerie, awkward silence ensued.
Great. I love it. I'm loving it indeed.
I will no longer suffer in silence. I shall no longer put up with nonsense. I love the new me.
As the ride went on, the group made some noise here and there but nothing at the levels as before. Logically, in a shared space, one has to be conscious of the people around them. We all give up something in a shared space. I lost an opportunity to speak with my friend from Hong Kong because of these intruders. We won't speak because we don't want to disturb the peace. But if we had a capsule to ourselves, we might just have the conversation.
Given the way most of the folks behaved after my outburst, it was pretty clear that they are aware they have gone overboard. A quick reflection - given their work, they are always asked to reflect on their actions - will tell them that they have invaded the personal space of outsiders in their midst.
As the ride went on, I turned around and spotted a older woman, probably coming 60s, gesturing to her colleagues in the capsule before ours (i.e. above us, as the flyer rotated on its centre). She was showing that she had to zip her mouth and then she raised her finger up her temple and showed screwing motions.
Ah, if that is not inviting another rebuke. So I told her, "Eh, you don't have to do that. What's wrong with being told off when you are overly noisy?"
She argued that she's calling the flyer management to ask if making noise is allowed in the capsule.
No, I didn't go ballistics. I just wondered if so many years in her job made her go nuts. What is it that is not in her culture that does not tell her that making that much noise and affecting other people is wrong?
I replied that some noise is fine but that amount of noise was plainly unacceptable. I reiterated that if they had wanted to make so much noise, they could have waited for the next capsule. (You do the math: There are 28 capsules and a ride is 37 minutes. In less than a couple of minutes, the group could give everyone instant deafness in a nutshell!)
She then said that she was on her first trip up the flyer and was very excited and her colleagues too. And now they have to ride in such silence and she felt very sorry for herself. She said that she feels sorry to be told off by a foreigner.
I told her it was my first trip too. And I am equally sorry that I had to tick them off this way because they simply went overboard.
And then the next stupider thing happened: One of her colleagues said, "You have the audio players and we don't have any. So how do we not make noise when you take all those players?"
Oh my god. If God made them think before they spoke, they would probably have looked just half as stupid. On our way in, we saw about 50 or so audio players at the entrance. We were asked if we wanted these players. Given that the group of folks were around 80 (max) and that most of the earlier 3 groups had not taken those players, these people up in the capsule would have had an opportunity to take a player if they had wanted.
Excitement or not, this was a lame attempt to salvage anything. If anything at all, I had more respect for those who were aware that they had gone overboard and generally kept quiet.
Old woman insisted that she will write to the management to ask if she can make noise. I told her to go ahead and write. You know, I have so little regard for her and her profession that I had in good mind to drop her minister an email and ask if her behaviour was becoming an employee of the state. But I won't do that; it is not in my interest to make her lose her job or my tax payer monies might be used to keep her alive thereafter.
I also reiterated that a reasonable noise level is acceptable and I won't complain about that. The ride went on later and the group did resume making some noise. However, they did watch themselves and policed the noise levels.
As a fellow Singaporean, I am appalled that we have fallen that far on social graces. Have we forgotten that we are not the centre of the universe? Have we disregarded that in our need for gratification, there are others who are seeking the same and our actions might have deprived others of it?
I may not have done a great job here myself but on hindsight, an outburst was still the best decision; I was certainly not in the mood for a protracted quarrel, which I was fairly certain the outcome of any request since among them was this quarrelsome old lady who is also impervious to reason.
What was the woman thinking when she made those gestures? Haven't we been guilty too of critising the Mainland Chinese for their uncouth, noise-making, and public peace disrupting behaviour but yet do the same in private?
Who are we to throw stones when we live in the same glasshouse? Who are we to tie the proverbial witches to the stakes for stoning and burning when many of us are witches too, except we are closeted?
How is loud noise in an enclosed space an acceptable behaviour when we, flyer visitors, are offered audio players that played only into our ears and not blasted through a public sound system? How is loud noise acceptable when most of members in that group will tell their charges to shut up (or words to that effect) if the noise levels get too high, and make that noise in an open room?
And how is it that old folks Ms Contrarian's age have forgotten basic manners, courtesy, consideration and etiquette? Was she not taught?
On my way out, I went to the ticketing counter and provided feedback on the ride can be made better through sound proofing, off-peak crowd management (especially relating to organizational outings) and capsule design. Oh, and I hope Ms Contrarian writes in and gets a reply to tell her that "for the comfort and pleasure of all riders in the capsule, people should keep their volume down."
To end, I'm going to borrow BHD's closing:
Life is short: Don't waste 37 minutes of it riding the Singapore Flyer.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The Li'l Young Hypocrite
While I was waiting my turn at the clinic yesterday, a little boy of about 5 was also there. His sister was running a fever and was brought there by the grandmother. Since both siblings were under her care, he went along.
Not long after, both their parents arrived at the clinic.
His behaviour reminded me so much of many of the seasoned hypocrites I see at work. That fake smile, that calculativeness in pitting grandmother and mother at odds when his mother asked him to do something that the grandmother didn't.
That fake smile. That fully exposed frontal teethy smile with those conniving, calculative eyes... The last I've seen such a display was during my basic military training, when one of the recruits tried to wiggle his way out by acting dumb and moronic. And yet, this is a 5 year old boy.
I still get shudders when I think about him.
Not long after, both their parents arrived at the clinic.
His behaviour reminded me so much of many of the seasoned hypocrites I see at work. That fake smile, that calculativeness in pitting grandmother and mother at odds when his mother asked him to do something that the grandmother didn't.
That fake smile. That fully exposed frontal teethy smile with those conniving, calculative eyes... The last I've seen such a display was during my basic military training, when one of the recruits tried to wiggle his way out by acting dumb and moronic. And yet, this is a 5 year old boy.
I still get shudders when I think about him.
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*
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Smells
There is something about the overnight sweaty tee-shirt smell that puts me off entirely. In this climate where 100% humidity is not unusual and temperatures of above 30 degrees Celcius are commonplace, being near someone in those shirts is enough to make you make a turn and remove yourself out of the smell-itory.
I would be more tolerant it were some sweaty guy who had busted his gut working at some job site for the entire day. I would even let it go - though it might cause me my last consumed meal - if it were on some worker whose sweat smelled bad in addition to his/her unique brand of BO.
But these guys in those offending shirts are browsing at a book sale in the middle of some industrial estate dressed in their "pyjamas". To make things worse, they had their wives and children with them. I wonder how they can put up with these smells.
Do personal hygiene and smell courtesy mean nothing at all today? Is a little consideration too much to ask?
I would be more tolerant it were some sweaty guy who had busted his gut working at some job site for the entire day. I would even let it go - though it might cause me my last consumed meal - if it were on some worker whose sweat smelled bad in addition to his/her unique brand of BO.
But these guys in those offending shirts are browsing at a book sale in the middle of some industrial estate dressed in their "pyjamas". To make things worse, they had their wives and children with them. I wonder how they can put up with these smells.
Do personal hygiene and smell courtesy mean nothing at all today? Is a little consideration too much to ask?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Global Warming
Shouldn't people be celebrating?
Finally, the world is warming up to our presence. We used to bemoan the cold and how much coal we needed to burn to keep warm. Now? No such worries.
Copenhagen - Hopenhagen - Nopenhagen has now become an international laughing stock: Copenhahahagen.
I cannot believe people buy into this crap such as global warming. Look all around you and ask yourself if the green activists are green at all.
If humans used, ate, hunted, killed anything to extinction, then humans will just have to find something else to use, eat, hunt, kill. Why try to change a behaviour that is not ready to be changed?
If most humans don't care, then why even care?
When Al Gore dashes to speak at those conferences, how did he travel? How much was he paid? And for those slides that he made, how did he make them? You see, you can't get shocking pictures without commissioning them. And when you do commission such pictures to be taken, people need to get on location, stake out at location, wait for things to happen, capture the footage, edit and work on the captured footage and so on.
When you calculate the total cost of making An Inconvenient Truth, the convenient truth is that a good number of hungry people may be fed a few meals. Why should people watch the show when they should rightly channel the funds to the same hungry people who need food?
I should stop bitching about this. If they knew the error of their ways and were willing to face it, I don't have to sit here and condemn these environmental hypocrites.
Finally, the world is warming up to our presence. We used to bemoan the cold and how much coal we needed to burn to keep warm. Now? No such worries.
Copenhagen - Hopenhagen - Nopenhagen has now become an international laughing stock: Copenhahahagen.
I cannot believe people buy into this crap such as global warming. Look all around you and ask yourself if the green activists are green at all.
If humans used, ate, hunted, killed anything to extinction, then humans will just have to find something else to use, eat, hunt, kill. Why try to change a behaviour that is not ready to be changed?
If most humans don't care, then why even care?
When Al Gore dashes to speak at those conferences, how did he travel? How much was he paid? And for those slides that he made, how did he make them? You see, you can't get shocking pictures without commissioning them. And when you do commission such pictures to be taken, people need to get on location, stake out at location, wait for things to happen, capture the footage, edit and work on the captured footage and so on.
When you calculate the total cost of making An Inconvenient Truth, the convenient truth is that a good number of hungry people may be fed a few meals. Why should people watch the show when they should rightly channel the funds to the same hungry people who need food?
I should stop bitching about this. If they knew the error of their ways and were willing to face it, I don't have to sit here and condemn these environmental hypocrites.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Killing Me Softly...
Spent about two hours in the Changi General Hospital's Accident and Emergency Department's Observation Room when I went over for follow-up treatment last Friday. Immediately on entering the room, I was plonked on an empty bed. There was a patient on my left (Bed 7) and an empty bed on my right (Bed 5). No prizes for correctly guessing for my bed number.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Monday, September 07, 2009
Answer to a Question
Someone asked why there was a need to write a thesis statement for an argument. After acknowledging that "the thesis statement will form the fundamentals of (an) argument", he goes on to argue that "this is still not a strong argument,... there must be other reasons that will make us write our own thesis statements instead of just writing a response towards the author's thesis statement."
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Exasperation 4
I have had enough! As I can no longer tolerate any more nonsense during my lessons, I sent out the following as a part of a larger email to my groups.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Monday, August 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?
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
If you want to die in debt...
This is the unsolicited perspective of an outsider looking in. I will accept your views on the matters but I am not necessarily able or willing to discuss all of them.
One thing that strikes me as rather peculiar to the US is the extensive use of credit cards. Almost every facility in the US accepts credit. People pay for parking with their credit cards, they pay for metro card top-ups, train tickets, small item dispensers, shopping... Just about anything can be paid for by credit cards.
It is a pretty worrying trend, if you ask me. Few people are good at keeping their finances in shipshape. Most people tend to squander their money away, swiping their cards at their purchases thinking that they are able to well-afford the service or the item when they don't.
I paid for most of my shopping with cash this time around. I reckon there was no point keeping dollars any raking up a card bill. So what if there were frequent flyer points given for the expenses? With the economy that bad, the airline is cutting back on capacity. What happens then is that you've got the points but they hell have no free seats.
The worst of the financial storm seems to have passed. But my US friends and I share the common perception that the current fiasco was resolved in a way that it felt more like a blimp in the larger scheme of things - giving the impression that this was a one-off anomaly - than a deep puddle of shit, which requires new sanitation lines and facilities to handle.
We agreed that the rut should be allowed to last a year or two, let the market really and truly correct itself, let the perpetrators go off with punishment bruises to remind them to behave, and let the people have time to reflect on their own actions.
Just last night, when the ad nauseum airing of the first series episodes of Boston Legal ended on hotel TV, paid commercials came on. Among them was for a real estate auction for housing properties in the northeastern regions. Man, I could afford those houses if the other buyers do not bid me out of my range. And they look like pretty nice houses too. Even better, the auction company is helping buyers pre-qualify for bank loans. Er...
Immediately today, I saw a news claiming that the housing market seems to have turned a corner because prices have fallen far enough.This is a self-fulfilling prophesy game that some powers that be are playing. And if people fall for the housing trap again...
One thing that strikes me as rather peculiar to the US is the extensive use of credit cards. Almost every facility in the US accepts credit. People pay for parking with their credit cards, they pay for metro card top-ups, train tickets, small item dispensers, shopping... Just about anything can be paid for by credit cards.
It is a pretty worrying trend, if you ask me. Few people are good at keeping their finances in shipshape. Most people tend to squander their money away, swiping their cards at their purchases thinking that they are able to well-afford the service or the item when they don't.
I paid for most of my shopping with cash this time around. I reckon there was no point keeping dollars any raking up a card bill. So what if there were frequent flyer points given for the expenses? With the economy that bad, the airline is cutting back on capacity. What happens then is that you've got the points but they hell have no free seats.
The worst of the financial storm seems to have passed. But my US friends and I share the common perception that the current fiasco was resolved in a way that it felt more like a blimp in the larger scheme of things - giving the impression that this was a one-off anomaly - than a deep puddle of shit, which requires new sanitation lines and facilities to handle.
We agreed that the rut should be allowed to last a year or two, let the market really and truly correct itself, let the perpetrators go off with punishment bruises to remind them to behave, and let the people have time to reflect on their own actions.
Just last night, when the ad nauseum airing of the first series episodes of Boston Legal ended on hotel TV, paid commercials came on. Among them was for a real estate auction for housing properties in the northeastern regions. Man, I could afford those houses if the other buyers do not bid me out of my range. And they look like pretty nice houses too. Even better, the auction company is helping buyers pre-qualify for bank loans. Er...
Immediately today, I saw a news claiming that the housing market seems to have turned a corner because prices have fallen far enough.This is a self-fulfilling prophesy game that some powers that be are playing. And if people fall for the housing trap again...
Temptations
New York City seems recession-proof. Macy's NYC has hardly anything on sale, unlike the other Macy's in Chicago and in Washington DC. And the NYC staff are so high and mighty about us tourists. Elsewhere, I've got sales associates coming up to ask me if I needed help with my shopping, over in NYC, they simply pretend you do not exist. I guess this is the beauty of it all - big city, big crowds, no attention.
I picked up about 3 items in Macy's yesterday and as I walked, I junked one, put back another and left a Timberland shirt on the CK counter. I then made my way down to the household department for some shopping.
Martha Stewart has a grand collection in turquoise (whoever knows and can describe the colour better than me, please correct me; I'm only good at colours of chemical ions). The prices turn me turqoise. I also found the kitchen rasp that many a cook on Asian Food Channel (e.g. Anna Orson, Robert Rainford) use but the rasps are the wrong size and the wrong price. Should have picked up the rasps when I first went grocery shopping with my "brother" in New Jersey.
And if you think about the lack of discounts - DC Macy's extended their additional 25% discount to me in the men's department, allowing me to buy $28 shirts at 50% plus 50% plus additional 25% off. I only paid $5.25 for each shirt. Furthermore, if you visit the US and shop, here's some info: State tax for Chicago is 10.25%, Washington DC is 5.25% and New York is 8.375%. That means, after your spoils are tallied up, the tax is slapped on the total. Before you know it...
I was saying, I would have cleaned out Macy's DC if I had bought a larger luggage bag by then. Trust me, I would have filled it up with lots of shopping items. Alas, I didn't have a bag yet and lugging another full bag isn't something that my shoulders might be able to take, I suppose.
I digress but my main point was that I left Macy's NYC empty handed. It is a first in US shopping history that I left a clothing store without a single item!
Earlier in the day, I was at Century 21 - New York's best kept secret - at WTC. It was like going to shopping mecca for another pilgrimage. I was early; I arrived at 9.15 am and the temperature was showing a nice 77 F. This is the earliest I have set off for the entire trip, actually.
There was a very thin crowd in C21 initially and so I thought I'll find a luggage bag before I did my clothing shopping. When I got my bag about an hour later - man, choosing a luggage bag is such a bitch - I went up to men's and was rudely welcomed by a thronging crowd of men in varying levels of dressedness, women pushing men around to get their hands on men's clothes and children running around. OMG.
It was a mad mad world out there and I began picking up what I wanted. I tried to get a cashier to hold my luggage while I shopped but he refused, saying that he had no space. This was not what happened the last time I visited. Oh well. What the *beep*.
I started browsing and if one looks hard enough, like in Chicago, one can find pretty good items at incredible prices. I typically don't like shopping unless it is for grocery but if I don't put in the effort to shop here, then I absolutely can't find anything in Singapore that does not cost an arm and a-leg-and-a-half. So I patiently trudged through the store, combing it many times...
Hey! I found a USD11.99 Tommy Hilfiger chinois slacks in Navy. It costs nearly USD70 more if not on sale. How can one not grab it, even if there is no fitting room? I pulled the waist around my neck and there is some slack. I think it'll fit. USD11.99 won't be enough to pay for the cloth even!
I piled on more men's underwear and then made the fundamental mistake of a male shopper. I did not buy a few items I liked because I thought Macy's had them on sale. And Macy's didn't. At least not when I was there.
So, I sit here wondering if I should make another trip down to C21 to pick them up, since it's only 9 am now and my check out is not till 3 hours later. A trip to C21 will at most take an hour and a half, assuming I instil military discipline on myself. Oh, forget it. I should just sit here and chill. I don't even know if I would wear them pyjamas pants if I bought them.
Another item that was really exciting to have is the single shot expresso machine. It's going at US90 at Macy's but then a new problem cropped up. You see, the US has a 2 pieces of luggage rule. Each piece can weigh up to 50 lb (or 23 kg)and I have two pieces. The expresso machine does not weigh much but it certainly is bulky. It is not likely to make it into my bag, and I do not want to risk paying USD125 for excess baggage. People will suggest that I unpack the entire machine... yeah right. It's a one piece thingy that is spring loaded and all. The last thing I want is to bring back something damaged.
Shopping here is fun and there are temptations galore. Many Americans probably do not know how good their lives have been. Yet, there are times when regardless of the temptations, a rational shopper will never be tempted. And I for once managed to be that rational shopper.
I picked up about 3 items in Macy's yesterday and as I walked, I junked one, put back another and left a Timberland shirt on the CK counter. I then made my way down to the household department for some shopping.
Martha Stewart has a grand collection in turquoise (whoever knows and can describe the colour better than me, please correct me; I'm only good at colours of chemical ions). The prices turn me turqoise. I also found the kitchen rasp that many a cook on Asian Food Channel (e.g. Anna Orson, Robert Rainford) use but the rasps are the wrong size and the wrong price. Should have picked up the rasps when I first went grocery shopping with my "brother" in New Jersey.
And if you think about the lack of discounts - DC Macy's extended their additional 25% discount to me in the men's department, allowing me to buy $28 shirts at 50% plus 50% plus additional 25% off. I only paid $5.25 for each shirt. Furthermore, if you visit the US and shop, here's some info: State tax for Chicago is 10.25%, Washington DC is 5.25% and New York is 8.375%. That means, after your spoils are tallied up, the tax is slapped on the total. Before you know it...
I was saying, I would have cleaned out Macy's DC if I had bought a larger luggage bag by then. Trust me, I would have filled it up with lots of shopping items. Alas, I didn't have a bag yet and lugging another full bag isn't something that my shoulders might be able to take, I suppose.
I digress but my main point was that I left Macy's NYC empty handed. It is a first in US shopping history that I left a clothing store without a single item!
Earlier in the day, I was at Century 21 - New York's best kept secret - at WTC. It was like going to shopping mecca for another pilgrimage. I was early; I arrived at 9.15 am and the temperature was showing a nice 77 F. This is the earliest I have set off for the entire trip, actually.
There was a very thin crowd in C21 initially and so I thought I'll find a luggage bag before I did my clothing shopping. When I got my bag about an hour later - man, choosing a luggage bag is such a bitch - I went up to men's and was rudely welcomed by a thronging crowd of men in varying levels of dressedness, women pushing men around to get their hands on men's clothes and children running around. OMG.
It was a mad mad world out there and I began picking up what I wanted. I tried to get a cashier to hold my luggage while I shopped but he refused, saying that he had no space. This was not what happened the last time I visited. Oh well. What the *beep*.
I started browsing and if one looks hard enough, like in Chicago, one can find pretty good items at incredible prices. I typically don't like shopping unless it is for grocery but if I don't put in the effort to shop here, then I absolutely can't find anything in Singapore that does not cost an arm and a-leg-and-a-half. So I patiently trudged through the store, combing it many times...
Hey! I found a USD11.99 Tommy Hilfiger chinois slacks in Navy. It costs nearly USD70 more if not on sale. How can one not grab it, even if there is no fitting room? I pulled the waist around my neck and there is some slack. I think it'll fit. USD11.99 won't be enough to pay for the cloth even!
I piled on more men's underwear and then made the fundamental mistake of a male shopper. I did not buy a few items I liked because I thought Macy's had them on sale. And Macy's didn't. At least not when I was there.
So, I sit here wondering if I should make another trip down to C21 to pick them up, since it's only 9 am now and my check out is not till 3 hours later. A trip to C21 will at most take an hour and a half, assuming I instil military discipline on myself. Oh, forget it. I should just sit here and chill. I don't even know if I would wear them pyjamas pants if I bought them.
Another item that was really exciting to have is the single shot expresso machine. It's going at US90 at Macy's but then a new problem cropped up. You see, the US has a 2 pieces of luggage rule. Each piece can weigh up to 50 lb (or 23 kg)and I have two pieces. The expresso machine does not weigh much but it certainly is bulky. It is not likely to make it into my bag, and I do not want to risk paying USD125 for excess baggage. People will suggest that I unpack the entire machine... yeah right. It's a one piece thingy that is spring loaded and all. The last thing I want is to bring back something damaged.
Shopping here is fun and there are temptations galore. Many Americans probably do not know how good their lives have been. Yet, there are times when regardless of the temptations, a rational shopper will never be tempted. And I for once managed to be that rational shopper.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Chicago Contradictions 2 of 8
2. New but old; old but new
Like many cities in a perpetual state of renewal and transition, Chicago is also a mishmash of old and new. The thing about it is the new is not new and the old is not old. For instance, some train stations are being refurbished and parts of it look new whereas other parts of the same station look really old. The train tracks are mainly supported by metal I-bars and the trains run on metal tracks mostly laid on wood. Again, depending on where you are, old and new is quite telling.
In an earlier blogpost, I complained that the airport needed a freshening up. Surprisingly, as I leave for DC today, I noticed that the departure area was pretty, new and modern. Again, a contradiction within the same building. Downtown buildings are another study of contrast, though this observation would be rather moot.
One thing about older, refurbished hotel rooms is the fact that while the place can look new, unless something thorough is done, certain things like smells cannot be removed. My hotel room toilet smells of a “old sweaty ah pek.” It is quite sad that things look new but are so old.
Like many cities in a perpetual state of renewal and transition, Chicago is also a mishmash of old and new. The thing about it is the new is not new and the old is not old. For instance, some train stations are being refurbished and parts of it look new whereas other parts of the same station look really old. The train tracks are mainly supported by metal I-bars and the trains run on metal tracks mostly laid on wood. Again, depending on where you are, old and new is quite telling.
In an earlier blogpost, I complained that the airport needed a freshening up. Surprisingly, as I leave for DC today, I noticed that the departure area was pretty, new and modern. Again, a contradiction within the same building. Downtown buildings are another study of contrast, though this observation would be rather moot.
One thing about older, refurbished hotel rooms is the fact that while the place can look new, unless something thorough is done, certain things like smells cannot be removed. My hotel room toilet smells of a “old sweaty ah pek.” It is quite sad that things look new but are so old.
Chicago Contradictions 1 of 8
The clock on the huge direction panel in the Chicago O’Hare Airport reads 6:42. I am way too early for my 9:05 flight to Washington DC. Still, being stuck in the airport to wait a little of your life away sure beats sweating in the shuttle and cursing as the darned van you are in simply cannot move in the lattice structure called a gridlock, except in Brownian motion speeds. Being stuck like is would be considered a “happy problem”, as an ex-boss would call it. Contradictory? Yeah, but that has how my experience in Chicago has been.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Memoirs of a Jetlagged-sha 4
Of course, by the time I got to part 3 of my memoirs, a blue-blooded American had to tell me to quit my "bitchin'". Ha ha ha... I knew this was going to happen and will I ever quit bitching? Only time will tell. One thing I know, I am now not as jetlagged as I was; I am amazed that I recovered this quickly. I bet the injured shoulder does contribute to that (more endorphines?) but I am now more concerned about my impending check out in about 40 minutes and my arduous journey to the next hotel. One can't stay at the Sheraton at almost USD 200 per night unless one had to; the next hotel is less than USD 100 per night. As reluctant as I am to reduce myself to the next place, I need to. USD 100 pays for many meals. Thus, this final part of the memoirs.
One cannot help but be very awed by the John F Kennedy Airport in New York. It is amazingly huge and there are many pieces of artwork adorning its walls. I am not artsy enough to know if they can be considered impressive but it goes give me a feeling that the place I am about to visit welcomes people from all lands and is tolerant of diversity. And before long, one enters the border control area where queues form rapidly and snake around the barriers.
I hate the wait. There is something about the US border control folks that I should... not bitch about this time. Amazingly, for all the grief that the guy manning the counter had given to all the visitors before me, checking them till heavens come, he cleared me in record time.
It was as though he had been expecting me and after a couple of questions - what is your purpose for visiting and how long will you be here - he fingerprinted me like a con, took my mugshot and cleared me. All with so much friendliness I thought I would faint. I was so happy that I promptly went to the wrong baggage claim carousel and begin wondering why there were so few Germans among the passengers waiting for their luggage. Before long, I realised my mistake and went to the correct belt. My bags arrived in less than 5 minutes. (Of course, when you wait for almost 45 minutes at border control...)
I grabbed my bags and was waved through the customs folks even though I declared I had meat products (pork jerky for my NJ friends). Compared to Newark, JFK was really a breeze to go through. Everything was bigger and brighter. People were friendlier and the atmosphere was more welcoming.
Yesterday, the US revealed a new, friendlier face to a traveller. And to this terribly tired and irate traveller who has another leg of rail travel to complete, it was very much appreciated.
One cannot help but be very awed by the John F Kennedy Airport in New York. It is amazingly huge and there are many pieces of artwork adorning its walls. I am not artsy enough to know if they can be considered impressive but it goes give me a feeling that the place I am about to visit welcomes people from all lands and is tolerant of diversity. And before long, one enters the border control area where queues form rapidly and snake around the barriers.
I hate the wait. There is something about the US border control folks that I should... not bitch about this time. Amazingly, for all the grief that the guy manning the counter had given to all the visitors before me, checking them till heavens come, he cleared me in record time.
It was as though he had been expecting me and after a couple of questions - what is your purpose for visiting and how long will you be here - he fingerprinted me like a con, took my mugshot and cleared me. All with so much friendliness I thought I would faint. I was so happy that I promptly went to the wrong baggage claim carousel and begin wondering why there were so few Germans among the passengers waiting for their luggage. Before long, I realised my mistake and went to the correct belt. My bags arrived in less than 5 minutes. (Of course, when you wait for almost 45 minutes at border control...)
I grabbed my bags and was waved through the customs folks even though I declared I had meat products (pork jerky for my NJ friends). Compared to Newark, JFK was really a breeze to go through. Everything was bigger and brighter. People were friendlier and the atmosphere was more welcoming.
Yesterday, the US revealed a new, friendlier face to a traveller. And to this terribly tired and irate traveller who has another leg of rail travel to complete, it was very much appreciated.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Super Mario Galaxy
The Wii machine met a new friend last weekend. The new friend needs to be inserted into the machine's hole. And after inserting the friend, new pleasure results. In fact, it was so pleasurable that hours are spent trying to top each previosu climax as the positions got progressively more challenging and each round more tedious.
Welcome to my Super Mario Galaxy semi-addiction.
The game started slowly enough. The moves were initially clumsy and the movement slow. But trust me, at the grand old age of... heck, you'll figure out my age anyway. The point is, even if you can teach an old dog new tricks, you can't overcome the fact that aged joints and ancient habits are hard to overcome. I therefore concede: my moves are still clumsy and the movement slow. Trust me, you won't want to read how many times I steered Mario into the black hole. Ok, I didn't steer him into the black holes but the imprecision of my moves inevitably meant Mario became BH fodder one time too many. How many, you ask? Well, try from 15 lives to nothing and then from 10 to nothing and then another 1 more before I cleared some particularly difficult stages.
And you know what's even better about SMG? The programming folks allow you to return to the game from the last point you left off instead of requiring you to begin from scratch. So you get new frustrations when the positions and techniques don't work and new highs when they do. The mind keeps telling itself that it can top the stage and one reaches for the start button after each game over. The ass is rooted to the seat and the mind loses all track of time. (Maybe, Wii and a slower version of SMG can be introduced to old folks' home to keep the residents engaged. Maybe not; they might fight over who's turn it is.)
Yet, the amazing graphics aside, the trick is to know... the tricks. The programmers are not very smart. I've got them figured out mostly. In certain worlds or galaxies, I pick up so many lives that I was incredibly elated. At the same time, I knew the extras would never be enough; how does one pick up extra lives quickly enough a whole game when one needs 26 of them to clear some particularly tricky stage? I don't know how I managed to clear some of those inhuman stages, but I did.
One can usually progress after mentally working through the algorithm required to clear that stage; keeping Mario alive long enough to clear the stage is the larger problem for me. Unfortunately, though, mental dexterity did not make up for the lack of finesse in the finer movements. The fingers were not stiff - digital (pun intended) gravity works differently, I'd say. Of course there are many excuses. This is where I spend all my time moaning about my exciting life, regardless how exciting it really is. Did you expect otherwise?
For all the fun and pleasure it brings, SMG is a silent time killer. I take anywhere between 45 minutes and 3 hours to clear a stage and I've sat in front of the Wii for almost 6 hours yesterday. That is bad. Extremely bad, if you ask me. And at 1.30 am this morning, when I tried to sleep after my shower, all I saw when I shut my eyes were the stars and the coins I was supposed to pick up in the games. My mind was all hyperactive; I can't get to sleep. The brain was devising ways to pick up stars and coins in the various configuration set by and for itself.
At that moment, I think I'm getting out of control. I need to do something quick. I got out of bed, removed the Super Mario Galaxy CD, returned it into its cover and asked for it to be returned. I can't be addicted to it. I can play other things like Wii Sports. That's fine, because there is a limiting factor called physical exhaustion. Wii Sports require you to mimick the actual sports action and with such physical activity, you get worn out and at the opportune moment, you'll decide you've got enough of a workout, turn off the Wii and resume life. SMG does not wear you out. It makes you addicted. And I worry about addiction.
So, there'll be come cold turkey today. And I'll be back to Wii Sporting.
Oh, did I tell you I chose Princess Peach as my avatar? I wanted to choose Queen Bitch if it (Note at edit: Oh man, that's a Freudian slip!) existed. But then what would I do with Q**nsy? Sigh. So, Princess Peach... that's right. Sounds like Princess Bitch anyway.
This semi-addiction seems worse than I imagine...
Welcome to my Super Mario Galaxy semi-addiction.
The game started slowly enough. The moves were initially clumsy and the movement slow. But trust me, at the grand old age of... heck, you'll figure out my age anyway. The point is, even if you can teach an old dog new tricks, you can't overcome the fact that aged joints and ancient habits are hard to overcome. I therefore concede: my moves are still clumsy and the movement slow. Trust me, you won't want to read how many times I steered Mario into the black hole. Ok, I didn't steer him into the black holes but the imprecision of my moves inevitably meant Mario became BH fodder one time too many. How many, you ask? Well, try from 15 lives to nothing and then from 10 to nothing and then another 1 more before I cleared some particularly difficult stages.
And you know what's even better about SMG? The programming folks allow you to return to the game from the last point you left off instead of requiring you to begin from scratch. So you get new frustrations when the positions and techniques don't work and new highs when they do. The mind keeps telling itself that it can top the stage and one reaches for the start button after each game over. The ass is rooted to the seat and the mind loses all track of time. (Maybe, Wii and a slower version of SMG can be introduced to old folks' home to keep the residents engaged. Maybe not; they might fight over who's turn it is.)
Yet, the amazing graphics aside, the trick is to know... the tricks. The programmers are not very smart. I've got them figured out mostly. In certain worlds or galaxies, I pick up so many lives that I was incredibly elated. At the same time, I knew the extras would never be enough; how does one pick up extra lives quickly enough a whole game when one needs 26 of them to clear some particularly tricky stage? I don't know how I managed to clear some of those inhuman stages, but I did.
One can usually progress after mentally working through the algorithm required to clear that stage; keeping Mario alive long enough to clear the stage is the larger problem for me. Unfortunately, though, mental dexterity did not make up for the lack of finesse in the finer movements. The fingers were not stiff - digital (pun intended) gravity works differently, I'd say. Of course there are many excuses. This is where I spend all my time moaning about my exciting life, regardless how exciting it really is. Did you expect otherwise?
For all the fun and pleasure it brings, SMG is a silent time killer. I take anywhere between 45 minutes and 3 hours to clear a stage and I've sat in front of the Wii for almost 6 hours yesterday. That is bad. Extremely bad, if you ask me. And at 1.30 am this morning, when I tried to sleep after my shower, all I saw when I shut my eyes were the stars and the coins I was supposed to pick up in the games. My mind was all hyperactive; I can't get to sleep. The brain was devising ways to pick up stars and coins in the various configuration set by and for itself.
At that moment, I think I'm getting out of control. I need to do something quick. I got out of bed, removed the Super Mario Galaxy CD, returned it into its cover and asked for it to be returned. I can't be addicted to it. I can play other things like Wii Sports. That's fine, because there is a limiting factor called physical exhaustion. Wii Sports require you to mimick the actual sports action and with such physical activity, you get worn out and at the opportune moment, you'll decide you've got enough of a workout, turn off the Wii and resume life. SMG does not wear you out. It makes you addicted. And I worry about addiction.
So, there'll be come cold turkey today. And I'll be back to Wii Sporting.
Oh, did I tell you I chose Princess Peach as my avatar? I wanted to choose Queen Bitch if it (Note at edit: Oh man, that's a Freudian slip!) existed. But then what would I do with Q**nsy? Sigh. So, Princess Peach... that's right. Sounds like Princess Bitch anyway.
This semi-addiction seems worse than I imagine...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Quasi big balls
Tackled the tree top walk today with a PE teacher friend. Here are some facts and true occurrences.
1. We walked a total of 7.6 km, mainly on forest trek, for a 250 m tree top suspension bridge walk. We've decided that a huge amount of persuasion will be required to get us to go there again. For example, a new car park built along the road at about the 2.5 km mark of the trail could be a start.
2. There is a free public carpark for trail visitors so you can park your cars at the start point and then walk your way in. And perhaps have a couple of water coolers and a small toilet/changing room at the car park. The water source and changing room will be well appreciated.
3. Signages at some of the points could be clearer and more pronunced. We had to make a few guesses along the way. And good for me, my sense of direction, even in the forest, served me well.
4. National Parks should consider a one-way hourly bus ride out from the start of the trails to the car park. Folks with jelly legs after traversing the roof top walk would really appreciate the gesture.
5. There is a steep tarmac-ed part of the trail which precedes the tree top walk. Wow, that was a prelude to jello your legs before your fear of heights do you in on the one-man wide suspension bridge.
Personally:
6, I got abrasions on my palms twisting dry my little towel, which was frequently soaked wet with my sweat. If I don't wring it dry, I can't get it to clean any more sweat off me.
7. My inner thighs are abraded. Man, they hurt when I walk and I had to work around the pain by walking somewhat bow-legged. Thereby, the title of this post.
Perhaps there was too much anticipation and too much expectation from the two of us at the onset of the trip. In the end, we had some sun (fortunately much less than feared) and too much walking. The walk wasn't all that fun, cos there were many up and down slopes and the need to retrace our steps back to the starting point dragged out the experience. The lack of anything really fresh on the way out added to the boredom of the walk.
Durian, rambutan, and jackfruit trees were fruiting like crazy. There were monkeys, squirrels, birds, butterflies, moths, salamanders, and whatever else saw us but we may not have seen them. There were surprisingly few, or no, mosquitoes and bugs.
For people undaunted still, my advice would be as follows:
1. Bring a towel for wiping sweat, especially if you perspire a lot.
2. Dry fit or no go. My dry fit shirt was fine but my cotton bermudas were so laden with sweat midway into the journey, I couldn't wait to get out of them.
3. Bring clothes to change out after the trip. Toilet and changing room or not, you'll appreciate this.
4. Forget the camera or any bags. If you can, travel light.
5. You'll reach the Ranger Station twice (and man, would I love a posting there! One of the guys there had an autographed Timberland boot. Hot!) and each time, use the facilities. Drink some water the first time around and drink up as much as you need before you make your way out. You tend to lose more water out than in, especially if you visit in the morning. The sun simply gets hotter and you sweat more.
6. Don't eat or drink on your walk. The monkeys we saw were observing us for food. I think they are still rather reliant on human offerings (it's illegal to feed them), especially during meal times.
7. Keep an eye for freshly dropped durians. You might just get a free fruit.
Have fun!
1. We walked a total of 7.6 km, mainly on forest trek, for a 250 m tree top suspension bridge walk. We've decided that a huge amount of persuasion will be required to get us to go there again. For example, a new car park built along the road at about the 2.5 km mark of the trail could be a start.
2. There is a free public carpark for trail visitors so you can park your cars at the start point and then walk your way in. And perhaps have a couple of water coolers and a small toilet/changing room at the car park. The water source and changing room will be well appreciated.
3. Signages at some of the points could be clearer and more pronunced. We had to make a few guesses along the way. And good for me, my sense of direction, even in the forest, served me well.
4. National Parks should consider a one-way hourly bus ride out from the start of the trails to the car park. Folks with jelly legs after traversing the roof top walk would really appreciate the gesture.
5. There is a steep tarmac-ed part of the trail which precedes the tree top walk. Wow, that was a prelude to jello your legs before your fear of heights do you in on the one-man wide suspension bridge.
Personally:
6, I got abrasions on my palms twisting dry my little towel, which was frequently soaked wet with my sweat. If I don't wring it dry, I can't get it to clean any more sweat off me.
7. My inner thighs are abraded. Man, they hurt when I walk and I had to work around the pain by walking somewhat bow-legged. Thereby, the title of this post.
Perhaps there was too much anticipation and too much expectation from the two of us at the onset of the trip. In the end, we had some sun (fortunately much less than feared) and too much walking. The walk wasn't all that fun, cos there were many up and down slopes and the need to retrace our steps back to the starting point dragged out the experience. The lack of anything really fresh on the way out added to the boredom of the walk.
Durian, rambutan, and jackfruit trees were fruiting like crazy. There were monkeys, squirrels, birds, butterflies, moths, salamanders, and whatever else saw us but we may not have seen them. There were surprisingly few, or no, mosquitoes and bugs.
For people undaunted still, my advice would be as follows:
1. Bring a towel for wiping sweat, especially if you perspire a lot.
2. Dry fit or no go. My dry fit shirt was fine but my cotton bermudas were so laden with sweat midway into the journey, I couldn't wait to get out of them.
3. Bring clothes to change out after the trip. Toilet and changing room or not, you'll appreciate this.
4. Forget the camera or any bags. If you can, travel light.
5. You'll reach the Ranger Station twice (and man, would I love a posting there! One of the guys there had an autographed Timberland boot. Hot!) and each time, use the facilities. Drink some water the first time around and drink up as much as you need before you make your way out. You tend to lose more water out than in, especially if you visit in the morning. The sun simply gets hotter and you sweat more.
6. Don't eat or drink on your walk. The monkeys we saw were observing us for food. I think they are still rather reliant on human offerings (it's illegal to feed them), especially during meal times.
7. Keep an eye for freshly dropped durians. You might just get a free fruit.
Have fun!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Run and hide!
I can't believe it. I am looking forward to tackling the MacRitchie tree top walk tomorrow.
Watch out, you green trees! This lard lump from Pasir Ris is coming over to trample on you.
Of course, I'm choosing the wimp option. I'm going to take the short cut to the tree top walk. I'll park at Venus Drive and then do the 7 km round trip. Doing a round trip beginning MacRitchie car park will require more than 10 km of walking.
I am not so sure I'm going to make my foot masseurs work that hard on Friday.
Tree top walk, here I come!
Watch out, you green trees! This lard lump from Pasir Ris is coming over to trample on you.
Of course, I'm choosing the wimp option. I'm going to take the short cut to the tree top walk. I'll park at Venus Drive and then do the 7 km round trip. Doing a round trip beginning MacRitchie car park will require more than 10 km of walking.
I am not so sure I'm going to make my foot masseurs work that hard on Friday.
Tree top walk, here I come!
Monday, May 11, 2009
On Female Equality and a Response to The Probligo
I have this thought: If there weren't that many free women (probably from not having to work because their husbands bring home the bread, bacon and cheese!) around, there wouldn't be a feminist movement. With most things in the world, it is the mind of an idle person who can think of all the nonsense. Of course, I am most likely wrong and I shouldn't have digressed but I am glad I did.
If I ask around today, I might be able to get a good number of people to agree that feminism is now becoming a dirty word. I have no doubts that the feminist movement started out with a noble aim - fighting for equality for women - but one suspects the feminist cause to be perverted by radical women pushing for hardcore femini-jihadism these days. I don't think such firebrand feminists have many supporters or sympathisers - this could explain why Dr Thio Su Mien did not get the support she had expected from the women despite playing the gender card. Thus, such extremists probably exist and operate covertly.
Equality for women should be the expected default position in any society. In a meritocractic society especially, an woman and a man with equal qualities should be viewed, appraised and rewarded equally. Unfortunately, equality is an ideal and with all ideals, they are elusive and largely unachievable.
I am not arguing that we should let the imbalance or inequality continue but unless something can be done about the innate qualities of the two sexes, there is little to argue here. For one, men can't bear children. Trust me, if men could, many of them probably wouldn't want wives.
Where I come from, the laws are vehemently anti-men. Get a divorce under the Women's Charter and see what happens to the man. The Women's Charter might as well be called the anti-Men Charter. If women and men are indeed placed on equal footing, then why is it that women (notice I do not call them the fairer sex) are still hiding behind the charter? Our female population is better educated than the male population!
Our laws are highly punitive of men who beat their wives. The irony is, the number of women involved in spousal battery and abuse is now catching up. So, why haven't the laws changed? We still can't hang female murderers, kidnappers and drug smugglers. Why the special treatment? Are women less vicious when they kill?
Pregnancy-based discrimination could be rife in the past but to try to engage in that now could bring about dire consequences for the company. No doubt, credit goes to the feminist movement. Equal credit should go to the company who is able to tolerate such nonsense. What happens when the pregnant woman go on maternity leave? Who takes over the work and gets it done? Either the men or other women. So why shouldn't the men or other non-childbearing women be paid more? If that is the case, then where is the equality? Men also want to have their own babies and go on 6 months' worth of maternity leave! At least I know I would want to. But can I?
For crying out loud, I can't even adopt a child because I am a man. And what makes the law think that "mothering" instincts come (more) naturally to women? Some women I know of shouldn't even have uteruses, much less kids!
I believe Singapore women have shown great restraint and maturity in not falling for the feminist mentor's rubbish. I believe Singapore workers - men and women - know the limitations of each sex and have found some form of tolerable balance so that both sexes can coexist without much trouble.
I should think that for many people, gone are the days of the bra-burning feminists, just like the Communists (in Singapore). I am all for supporting female equality but if any woman tries to play the feminist card and gets whiplashed because of her radical ideas, then I have no sympathy for her.
For a start, if we were to review most of the existing systems to give women an equal footing, there is no guarantee that the women are not going to lose more than they gain. A smart feminist would therefore be well-served to count her spoils and blessings instead undermining the efforts of the earlier "suffragettes" (Dictionary.com tsk-tsked me and said I should use "suffragist" as the term suffragette is often considered demeaning) and "equalists" through crowing and scratching senselessly.
If I ask around today, I might be able to get a good number of people to agree that feminism is now becoming a dirty word. I have no doubts that the feminist movement started out with a noble aim - fighting for equality for women - but one suspects the feminist cause to be perverted by radical women pushing for hardcore femini-jihadism these days. I don't think such firebrand feminists have many supporters or sympathisers - this could explain why Dr Thio Su Mien did not get the support she had expected from the women despite playing the gender card. Thus, such extremists probably exist and operate covertly.
Equality for women should be the expected default position in any society. In a meritocractic society especially, an woman and a man with equal qualities should be viewed, appraised and rewarded equally. Unfortunately, equality is an ideal and with all ideals, they are elusive and largely unachievable.
I am not arguing that we should let the imbalance or inequality continue but unless something can be done about the innate qualities of the two sexes, there is little to argue here. For one, men can't bear children. Trust me, if men could, many of them probably wouldn't want wives.
Where I come from, the laws are vehemently anti-men. Get a divorce under the Women's Charter and see what happens to the man. The Women's Charter might as well be called the anti-Men Charter. If women and men are indeed placed on equal footing, then why is it that women (notice I do not call them the fairer sex) are still hiding behind the charter? Our female population is better educated than the male population!
Our laws are highly punitive of men who beat their wives. The irony is, the number of women involved in spousal battery and abuse is now catching up. So, why haven't the laws changed? We still can't hang female murderers, kidnappers and drug smugglers. Why the special treatment? Are women less vicious when they kill?
Pregnancy-based discrimination could be rife in the past but to try to engage in that now could bring about dire consequences for the company. No doubt, credit goes to the feminist movement. Equal credit should go to the company who is able to tolerate such nonsense. What happens when the pregnant woman go on maternity leave? Who takes over the work and gets it done? Either the men or other women. So why shouldn't the men or other non-childbearing women be paid more? If that is the case, then where is the equality? Men also want to have their own babies and go on 6 months' worth of maternity leave! At least I know I would want to. But can I?
For crying out loud, I can't even adopt a child because I am a man. And what makes the law think that "mothering" instincts come (more) naturally to women? Some women I know of shouldn't even have uteruses, much less kids!
I believe Singapore women have shown great restraint and maturity in not falling for the feminist mentor's rubbish. I believe Singapore workers - men and women - know the limitations of each sex and have found some form of tolerable balance so that both sexes can coexist without much trouble.
I should think that for many people, gone are the days of the bra-burning feminists, just like the Communists (in Singapore). I am all for supporting female equality but if any woman tries to play the feminist card and gets whiplashed because of her radical ideas, then I have no sympathy for her.
For a start, if we were to review most of the existing systems to give women an equal footing, there is no guarantee that the women are not going to lose more than they gain. A smart feminist would therefore be well-served to count her spoils and blessings instead undermining the efforts of the earlier "suffragettes" (Dictionary.com tsk-tsked me and said I should use "suffragist" as the term suffragette is often considered demeaning) and "equalists" through crowing and scratching senselessly.
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