Facebook is highly pervasive and because it allows users to make singular spurts of writing, there is very little need to develop the entire thought process into something credible or useful. This is not good if we intend to develop a thinking masses.
The ability to make a proposition and thereafter craft a sustained argument for or against the proposition is an important skill that people ought to develop. Social media like FB (and Twitter and any other simiar kinds) where a singular sentence or utterance is sufficient to pose as a response or entry is particularly disheartening.
Initially, the novelty of it all makes it chic to be a user of FB. Thereafter, one ends up being hooked to FB because it is there. There is almost no such thing as a writer's block on FB because one needs not always begin a conversation. One can easily make a comment on an existing conversation and be noted. In this regard, the attention given to the utterance is in fact a kind of reward to encourage repeated visits to make more of such entries.
By and large, one starts to prefer FB over other forms of social media requiring more writing and less instant gratification (of being noticed). Very soon, we will see arguments made that are of deteriorating quality. This is alarming but until the trend can be reversed or people can overcome their tendency to choose the lazy way out, society risk become stupider and less able to sustain an argument.
Showing posts with label ramblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ramblings. Show all posts
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Madness
There is so much one can endure... and then some. Some people are suckers for punishment while others thrive doling out stupid requests.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
This *has* to go out
This is probably my 5th attempt at publishing something since 2011 began.
Work is not that bad. It's hectic and random but I rather enjoy it because... because. I think it is good to enjoy work and I appreciate things better, especially when I'm in my post-retirement job.
I now understand Mary Poppins better, when she sings,
In every job that's to be done
There is an element of fun
You'll find the fun and snap the job's a game
In every task you undertake
Becomes a piece of cake
A lark, a spree
It's very easy to see...
- excerpt from "A Spoonful of Sugar"
Now, thank god I've not have to resort to the spoonful of sugar or I'll really expand exponentially (given the amount of work to be done).
Still when you are able to toss out career prospects and forget about promotions and ranking and so on and concentrate on getting the job done, you realise you can be in a position to negotiate things far better than before.
Maybe that's why people say we create our own cages. I've broken free and I stay happily free.
Work is not that bad. It's hectic and random but I rather enjoy it because... because. I think it is good to enjoy work and I appreciate things better, especially when I'm in my post-retirement job.
I now understand Mary Poppins better, when she sings,
In every job that's to be done
There is an element of fun
You'll find the fun and snap the job's a game
In every task you undertake
Becomes a piece of cake
A lark, a spree
It's very easy to see...
- excerpt from "A Spoonful of Sugar"
Now, thank god I've not have to resort to the spoonful of sugar or I'll really expand exponentially (given the amount of work to be done).
Still when you are able to toss out career prospects and forget about promotions and ranking and so on and concentrate on getting the job done, you realise you can be in a position to negotiate things far better than before.
Maybe that's why people say we create our own cages. I've broken free and I stay happily free.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
What don't go well together...
Christmas
Rebuilding hard disk data from back up system
Making 18 tiramsu
Playing Tap Fish, Tap Fish Exotic, Tap Ranch, Tap Resort Party, GodFinger All Stars, We Farm Safari, and Adventure Bay simultaneously on an iPhone
Planting broccoli on We Farm Safari
Having a mahjong game after a steamboat dinner
Sleeping till 10 am
Undone laundry
The day after Boxing Day.
Rebuilding hard disk data from back up system
Making 18 tiramsu
Playing Tap Fish, Tap Fish Exotic, Tap Ranch, Tap Resort Party, GodFinger All Stars, We Farm Safari, and Adventure Bay simultaneously on an iPhone
Planting broccoli on We Farm Safari
Having a mahjong game after a steamboat dinner
Sleeping till 10 am
Undone laundry
The day after Boxing Day.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
What I really really want...
[This post is inspired by Quinsy. I had wanted to reply to her FB post but as I wrote, I decided defacing my own blog would be more appropriate than her FB account. So here goes.]
If I were a woman, what do I really really want?
Is it love?
No. I want three things: Money, sexual satisfaction, and companionship. What can a man provide? All three? Unlikely. So how?
Well, we call it "phases".
As with all critical events analysis, there is a tipping point or key lever that holds the entire picture together. Looking at the three things, what will that key lever be?
Let's begin with a few simple questions:
1. Can companionship get you money?
2. Can sexual satisfaction get you money?
3. Can money get you companionship?
Ok, these are not meant to be answered out loud. Supposing you can't get more than one thing, which one of the three will greatly help you towards the other two?
Again, I don't expect an answer.
My point is simple: identify the key lever, milk it for what it is worth, then pursue your other interests.
There was an article some time ago that said that modern man - sexist, I know - should have at least three marriages. One to help him in his career, one to get him his family, and one to see him into old age and death. The key idea is "phases", consecutive marriages. It's not concurrent. I've got to make this clear, lest I'll be stoned for promoting polygamy - I did not, I do not, and I will not.
So once one knows what one's priorities are, it'll become much easier.
No?
If I were a woman, what do I really really want?
Is it love?
No. I want three things: Money, sexual satisfaction, and companionship. What can a man provide? All three? Unlikely. So how?
Well, we call it "phases".
As with all critical events analysis, there is a tipping point or key lever that holds the entire picture together. Looking at the three things, what will that key lever be?
Let's begin with a few simple questions:
1. Can companionship get you money?
2. Can sexual satisfaction get you money?
3. Can money get you companionship?
Ok, these are not meant to be answered out loud. Supposing you can't get more than one thing, which one of the three will greatly help you towards the other two?
Again, I don't expect an answer.
My point is simple: identify the key lever, milk it for what it is worth, then pursue your other interests.
There was an article some time ago that said that modern man - sexist, I know - should have at least three marriages. One to help him in his career, one to get him his family, and one to see him into old age and death. The key idea is "phases", consecutive marriages. It's not concurrent. I've got to make this clear, lest I'll be stoned for promoting polygamy - I did not, I do not, and I will not.
So once one knows what one's priorities are, it'll become much easier.
No?
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wikileaks
Would you like it if the records of what you had spoken with another person were hacked and then exposed to the world?
I don't think you will like it very much. If you do, then why do you make such a big fuss if I read your diary or your phone messages?
And I am a singular audience. How would you like it if I told all my friends what the messages were about? Worse, if I get to selectively show to the world the worst of you to totally discredit you, would you embrace that?
If not, then why can Wikileaks be acceptable? How can there be blatant disregard of communicative engagement?
This entry is either preaching to the choir or drawing immediate resistance. Few people would understand the folly and maliciousness of these acts until they become victims themselves.
There is a place for secrets and the unspoken. There is an even larger place for privacy.
The only place to take a leak, to me, is the toilet.
I don't think you will like it very much. If you do, then why do you make such a big fuss if I read your diary or your phone messages?
And I am a singular audience. How would you like it if I told all my friends what the messages were about? Worse, if I get to selectively show to the world the worst of you to totally discredit you, would you embrace that?
If not, then why can Wikileaks be acceptable? How can there be blatant disregard of communicative engagement?
This entry is either preaching to the choir or drawing immediate resistance. Few people would understand the folly and maliciousness of these acts until they become victims themselves.
There is a place for secrets and the unspoken. There is an even larger place for privacy.
The only place to take a leak, to me, is the toilet.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Walking on thin ice
Feels that way five days a week.
The incessant screaming and scolding, even if not meant for you, are unnerving.
And that's only the top molecule of the ice berg.
There are times when the heart decides it is best to turn into a hard little hailstone and attempt to destroy everything in its path until the sun rises to melt it.
Yet there are times when even as a hard little hailstone, the heart is no less fragile as a snowflake. Each little hailstone takes a unique shape, just like the snowflake, but each uglier than the one before.
All around, there is laughter, care and concern. Even if there is no (platonic) love, there is empathy and resonance. Yet there is one corner that such tenderness does not reach.
I am not feeling particularly happy and my body is telling me it is not particularly happy. I can cut through my stress with a knife but at no time is the stress from me. It is from around me.
And yet there is scant I can do...
The incessant screaming and scolding, even if not meant for you, are unnerving.
And that's only the top molecule of the ice berg.
There are times when the heart decides it is best to turn into a hard little hailstone and attempt to destroy everything in its path until the sun rises to melt it.
Yet there are times when even as a hard little hailstone, the heart is no less fragile as a snowflake. Each little hailstone takes a unique shape, just like the snowflake, but each uglier than the one before.
All around, there is laughter, care and concern. Even if there is no (platonic) love, there is empathy and resonance. Yet there is one corner that such tenderness does not reach.
I am not feeling particularly happy and my body is telling me it is not particularly happy. I can cut through my stress with a knife but at no time is the stress from me. It is from around me.
And yet there is scant I can do...
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Sanity Check
The past weeks have been insane. So insane that I'd rather not blog about them. And so I didn't.
Apart from keeping my work off my private turf, I am also trying to limit the damage that such bitching might do if people read it over here and then carry tales.
There are things I am unhappy about. There are things people do I am unhappy about. I bitch about them in person and I'll leave them as that.
There is more to life outside work. We say it but do we know how to live it? This is a skill many of us sorely lack.
A couple of recent deaths are stark reminders once again of the careless way we live our lives. Again, I believe we should not have to face the inevitable ourselves to wish we had lived differently. In fact, one of them probably had no inkling his life was ending so abruptly; he was all but a 40 year old keep fit guy.
There, I've said it. I'm going to live life! And, how I love ironies, I will persevere in doing it.
Apart from keeping my work off my private turf, I am also trying to limit the damage that such bitching might do if people read it over here and then carry tales.
There are things I am unhappy about. There are things people do I am unhappy about. I bitch about them in person and I'll leave them as that.
There is more to life outside work. We say it but do we know how to live it? This is a skill many of us sorely lack.
A couple of recent deaths are stark reminders once again of the careless way we live our lives. Again, I believe we should not have to face the inevitable ourselves to wish we had lived differently. In fact, one of them probably had no inkling his life was ending so abruptly; he was all but a 40 year old keep fit guy.
There, I've said it. I'm going to live life! And, how I love ironies, I will persevere in doing it.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
The Case for Private Tutoring
Private tutors will thrive for several reasons:
1. A number of top teachers are leaving the teaching service to become tutors. Key reasons - no administration nonsense, no useless staff meetings, no need to teach more than one subject, controlled class size, motivated students, better money, fewer working hours.
2. You get who you can afford. Top tutors command top pay but top teachers get the same pay as the worst teacher in school. So, there is no motivation to outperform your peers if you are a teacher. However, as a tutor, you get creative and innovative so you can deliver a better product than your competitors.
3. Public education is subsidized, leading to students to believe that they are taught inferior stuff in school. Tutoring sessions are not subsidized, so students attending these classes tend to give their tutors more attention.
4. Ability-based lessons provided by tutors cannot be replicated in schools. Even in a group of 20, it is easier to provide targeted learning and lessons. But 20 seems to be the magic number. Any more than that and you lose the ability to provide differentiated learning experiences. Class sizes in secondary schools average 40 students per class.
5. Targeted learning happens in tutoring centres. Simply put, the student learns one or at most two related subjects in a span of 2 to 3 hours. In contrast, in a typical school setting where a class period is anywhere from 30 minutes to 45 minutes, students would need to flit between a few subjects. And because students spend a protracted amount of time on a subject (or two), they concentrate on the key concepts, practice questions, and learn. In a 1 hour double period setting in schools, teachers can't teach for more than 40 minutes. There is first the 10 - 2 rule (2 minutes rest for every 10 minutes of teaching), discipline issues, admin problems, homework collection, corrections etc due in class that one would be happy to get 40 minutes of teaching time. In fact, some teachers are so hung up over the "Good Morning" and "Good Bye" at the start and end of each lesson they spend precious minutes telling the students to stand straight, show respect, greet aloud... Terrible waste of time. I go in and tell my kids on day 1, I'm going to quote a line from Madonna's Evita, "You must love me. Or if not, my subject." That's enough. The kids don't have to greet me at all but they all show plenty of respect. (I'd like to think it's charisma or terror.) Oh yah, before I forget, what is this thing about CCA and CIP? Teach them morals and values? Wait, I need to get a hanky to muffle my laughter... WASTE OF TIME!
So, you see. There is nothing wrong with the GCE O and A level syllabi or on what you test the students. The problem is very very straightforward. Dump in enough money to reward the top teachers, cut down all the unnecessary admin and useless meetings, teach well and teach clearly, stay on task (teach/learn), and don't sweat the small stuff. Cut down CCA and CIP - our kids are getting GCE O and A levels and NOT GCE CCA/CIP. Get our priorities straight.
In any case, I'd applaud the parents who realise that they are getting a better deal elsewhere. If I were them, I'd employ extremely competent tutors and have my child homeschooled. My tutors will teach my child the key subjects (English, Mother Tongue, Math, Science and whatever else is required for promotion to the A levels) while, as a parent, I'll teach morals and values. Why bother with the school system?
But then, I'm probably alone in this rant.
1. A number of top teachers are leaving the teaching service to become tutors. Key reasons - no administration nonsense, no useless staff meetings, no need to teach more than one subject, controlled class size, motivated students, better money, fewer working hours.
2. You get who you can afford. Top tutors command top pay but top teachers get the same pay as the worst teacher in school. So, there is no motivation to outperform your peers if you are a teacher. However, as a tutor, you get creative and innovative so you can deliver a better product than your competitors.
3. Public education is subsidized, leading to students to believe that they are taught inferior stuff in school. Tutoring sessions are not subsidized, so students attending these classes tend to give their tutors more attention.
4. Ability-based lessons provided by tutors cannot be replicated in schools. Even in a group of 20, it is easier to provide targeted learning and lessons. But 20 seems to be the magic number. Any more than that and you lose the ability to provide differentiated learning experiences. Class sizes in secondary schools average 40 students per class.
5. Targeted learning happens in tutoring centres. Simply put, the student learns one or at most two related subjects in a span of 2 to 3 hours. In contrast, in a typical school setting where a class period is anywhere from 30 minutes to 45 minutes, students would need to flit between a few subjects. And because students spend a protracted amount of time on a subject (or two), they concentrate on the key concepts, practice questions, and learn. In a 1 hour double period setting in schools, teachers can't teach for more than 40 minutes. There is first the 10 - 2 rule (2 minutes rest for every 10 minutes of teaching), discipline issues, admin problems, homework collection, corrections etc due in class that one would be happy to get 40 minutes of teaching time. In fact, some teachers are so hung up over the "Good Morning" and "Good Bye" at the start and end of each lesson they spend precious minutes telling the students to stand straight, show respect, greet aloud... Terrible waste of time. I go in and tell my kids on day 1, I'm going to quote a line from Madonna's Evita, "You must love me. Or if not, my subject." That's enough. The kids don't have to greet me at all but they all show plenty of respect. (I'd like to think it's charisma or terror.) Oh yah, before I forget, what is this thing about CCA and CIP? Teach them morals and values? Wait, I need to get a hanky to muffle my laughter... WASTE OF TIME!
So, you see. There is nothing wrong with the GCE O and A level syllabi or on what you test the students. The problem is very very straightforward. Dump in enough money to reward the top teachers, cut down all the unnecessary admin and useless meetings, teach well and teach clearly, stay on task (teach/learn), and don't sweat the small stuff. Cut down CCA and CIP - our kids are getting GCE O and A levels and NOT GCE CCA/CIP. Get our priorities straight.
In any case, I'd applaud the parents who realise that they are getting a better deal elsewhere. If I were them, I'd employ extremely competent tutors and have my child homeschooled. My tutors will teach my child the key subjects (English, Mother Tongue, Math, Science and whatever else is required for promotion to the A levels) while, as a parent, I'll teach morals and values. Why bother with the school system?
But then, I'm probably alone in this rant.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Little Cheer
There's been little to cheer about recently. So rather than rant and rave here, I numb myself watching TV.
It's better. Between trying to kill the earth by blogging about things and by watching TV, I think watching TV is better. After all, there are things that once said cannot be recalled.
Laundry's done. Time for it to go into the dryer.
It's better. Between trying to kill the earth by blogging about things and by watching TV, I think watching TV is better. After all, there are things that once said cannot be recalled.
Laundry's done. Time for it to go into the dryer.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Directions
If we know where to go, we can ask for directions. Not all of us would do so, even if we are lost, but at least we have an idea where we are going.
What about for those who do not know where to go? Does not knowing where to go mean not knowing the directions?
What about simply not knowing the directions? Does that also mean one does not have a destination in mind?
What about for those who do not know where to go? Does not knowing where to go mean not knowing the directions?
What about simply not knowing the directions? Does that also mean one does not have a destination in mind?
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Shooting the breeze
So many things, so little time, so few brain cells, so limited memory. So this will be a so-so entry with many random ramblings haphazardly pieced together.
Think of it as a mental patchwork blanket.
Comic reactions to Greek tragedy. Hey, the fat Greeks are paying the price for fattening up. So why is everyone getting diarrhoea?
Rain. Dense but miniscule lines of water falling from the sky. Just looked out of the window.
Scab. Nicely formed on the head wound. Doctor advised against peeling it off prematurely. In fact, no peeling allowed. Let it drop off normally.
Lethargy. There is work but no interest to work. Money is there but no interest to even earn it.
Waiting. I don't even know for what.
Television programmes. Have some files in the hard disk but not in the Sofa-Burbank mood yet.
Cooking. The simpler the better. The weather is too hot for staying prolonged periods in the kitchen.
Coldness. Ice water tastes better these days because of the unbearable heat.
Shares. A prolonged slow bleed. Nothing seems to be able to staunch the bleed. Yet there are people who believe that a bloodied bull is still a bull.
Housing. Prices sky high. People still flocking showrooms and buying, overstretching themselves. Maybe some of them swallowed a fly. Maybe they'll die.
Cars. Prices not that high. People still fleeing showrooms and resisting, denying themselves. Maybe some of them should swallow a fly. The prices are at the new rock bottom. With the new COE cuts, with further cuts in July, there is no way but up for car prices. And by the time the silly car buyers realise that, COE prices will shoot through the roof again.
Chaos. My greatest fear is there is NOT ENOUGH chaos. Abhisit will dissolve Thai Parliament in September. Why so long? Haven't he realised that he might be sublimated by then? UK elections are almost a done deal. Labour exit widely expected. Bigoted woman, eh? Greece violence. So happy tree friend.
Crazy. Nothing wrong with being crazy. Really. At this rate, against what standard do we measure normal?
Think of it as a mental patchwork blanket.
Comic reactions to Greek tragedy. Hey, the fat Greeks are paying the price for fattening up. So why is everyone getting diarrhoea?
Rain. Dense but miniscule lines of water falling from the sky. Just looked out of the window.
Scab. Nicely formed on the head wound. Doctor advised against peeling it off prematurely. In fact, no peeling allowed. Let it drop off normally.
Lethargy. There is work but no interest to work. Money is there but no interest to even earn it.
Waiting. I don't even know for what.
Television programmes. Have some files in the hard disk but not in the Sofa-Burbank mood yet.
Cooking. The simpler the better. The weather is too hot for staying prolonged periods in the kitchen.
Coldness. Ice water tastes better these days because of the unbearable heat.
Shares. A prolonged slow bleed. Nothing seems to be able to staunch the bleed. Yet there are people who believe that a bloodied bull is still a bull.
Housing. Prices sky high. People still flocking showrooms and buying, overstretching themselves. Maybe some of them swallowed a fly. Maybe they'll die.
Cars. Prices not that high. People still fleeing showrooms and resisting, denying themselves. Maybe some of them should swallow a fly. The prices are at the new rock bottom. With the new COE cuts, with further cuts in July, there is no way but up for car prices. And by the time the silly car buyers realise that, COE prices will shoot through the roof again.
Chaos. My greatest fear is there is NOT ENOUGH chaos. Abhisit will dissolve Thai Parliament in September. Why so long? Haven't he realised that he might be sublimated by then? UK elections are almost a done deal. Labour exit widely expected. Bigoted woman, eh? Greece violence. So happy tree friend.
Crazy. Nothing wrong with being crazy. Really. At this rate, against what standard do we measure normal?
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Are the stars lining up...?
Goldman Sachs' scandal and run in with the SEC
Greece's debt downgraded to junk status by Standard & Poor
China's harshest tightening measures yet to curb property speculation
US is braying for the Chinese to allow the Yuan to appreciate but Grandpa Hu and Grandpa Wen are still in their Sichua Earthquake mode - "you must hold on. Grandpa Wen is here and we will save you. Hold on to my hands."
The Thais are gearing up for a battle. The Thai Monarch doesn't seem to be holding up that well.
Myanmar and Cambodia are holding polls soon.
The sharemarket is seeking a clear direction. Singapore investors seeming bearishly bullish. Odd but true.
At this rate, are we getting back to 2008 not long after we got out of the same mess?
I hope Grandpa Wen will now soon let go of his vice like grip on the Yuan. I've got some and I don't mind making a little profit.
If the army and the police fight the Red Shirts, and the Yellow Shirts join in the fight, what colour shirt will the Thais end up wearing? Rainbow coloured shirts? Hm...?
Singapore housing prices have risen so much I'm effectively priced out of the market.
Singaporeans and many people around the world are hoarding property like the new oil.
Interest rates are at an unbelievable low.
People are over-stretched on many fronts.
Salaries are NOT increasing.
Share markets are volatile and a week's gains is not quite enough to cover a day's losses.
Things are getting way too expensive and inflation is threatening to empty our wallets.
To quote Barbarella Posh Beckham, "In April, May, and June, everything is coming up roses."
Yeah, right. I do hope those bloody red rose petals are just covered with the purest of colouring agents - blood.
Oh well, maybe I should just literally scratch any itch rather than make serious moves into any investments now.
Greece's debt downgraded to junk status by Standard & Poor
China's harshest tightening measures yet to curb property speculation
US is braying for the Chinese to allow the Yuan to appreciate but Grandpa Hu and Grandpa Wen are still in their Sichua Earthquake mode - "you must hold on. Grandpa Wen is here and we will save you. Hold on to my hands."
The Thais are gearing up for a battle. The Thai Monarch doesn't seem to be holding up that well.
Myanmar and Cambodia are holding polls soon.
The sharemarket is seeking a clear direction. Singapore investors seeming bearishly bullish. Odd but true.
At this rate, are we getting back to 2008 not long after we got out of the same mess?
I hope Grandpa Wen will now soon let go of his vice like grip on the Yuan. I've got some and I don't mind making a little profit.
If the army and the police fight the Red Shirts, and the Yellow Shirts join in the fight, what colour shirt will the Thais end up wearing? Rainbow coloured shirts? Hm...?
Singapore housing prices have risen so much I'm effectively priced out of the market.
Singaporeans and many people around the world are hoarding property like the new oil.
Interest rates are at an unbelievable low.
People are over-stretched on many fronts.
Salaries are NOT increasing.
Share markets are volatile and a week's gains is not quite enough to cover a day's losses.
Things are getting way too expensive and inflation is threatening to empty our wallets.
To quote Barbarella Posh Beckham, "In April, May, and June, everything is coming up roses."
Yeah, right. I do hope those bloody red rose petals are just covered with the purest of colouring agents - blood.
Oh well, maybe I should just literally scratch any itch rather than make serious moves into any investments now.
Friday, April 23, 2010
2012 with The Probligo
This is an IMAGINARY dialogue that The Probligo (P) and Teflonman (T) might have on Armeggedon if we ever met up.
This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.
Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.
In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)
T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.
P: Hm...
Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.
P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?
T: Then where would you prefer to sit?
P: Let's sit here.
T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.
T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.
T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.
P: It comes. Booms...
T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.
P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.
T: Mm hm...
P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.
T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.
P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.
T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.
T: Tsunami?
T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.
P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...
P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.
T: The 3 men...?
P feigned ignorance.
P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?
T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?
P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.
P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.
T: And tsunamis too?
P: Perhaps.
T: But won't they cancel each other out?
P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.
T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.
P: We'll be steamed alive...
T: In a sulphurous pit no less.
P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?
T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.
T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?
P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.
T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.
P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?
T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.
P: You're really good at cussing, yah?
T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.
P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.
T: I'll see what I can do.
Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.
T: You guys make small sandwiches.
P: Really?
T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.
P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...
P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.
P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.
T: What? Then what about bread?
P: There's a loaf at home.
T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...
P: Want an apple?
T: Ok.
P: Here.
T: Windfall?
P: How'd you guess?
T: It's all brown.
P: Oops. Wine?
T: I don't drink.
P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.
T: Maybe.
T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.
T: Water tastes better than wine.
P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?
T: You know, the plans never changed.
P: What are you going to do tonight?
T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!
P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.
T: True. Never stopped Obama.
P: Don't get me started on America.
T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!
P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.
A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.
T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.
Both men walked out of the Science Centre.
T: I'm hungry.
P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.
T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?
P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.
T: You have an ax to grind with TF?
P: No. Yes. No. Yes....
T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."
P: Do you eat dog?
T: Yeah.
P: Real dogs?
T: Yes.
P: Real dogs really?
T: Yes yeah yessy.
P: Ew...
T: There.
T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.
T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"
P: Maybe. Why?
T: How does canine taste?
This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.
Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.
In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)
T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.
P: Hm...
Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.
P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?
T: Then where would you prefer to sit?
P: Let's sit here.
T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.
T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.
T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.
P: It comes. Booms...
T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.
P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.
T: Mm hm...
P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.
T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.
P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.
T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.
T: Tsunami?
T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.
P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...
P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.
T: The 3 men...?
P feigned ignorance.
P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?
T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?
P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.
P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.
T: And tsunamis too?
P: Perhaps.
T: But won't they cancel each other out?
P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.
T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.
P: We'll be steamed alive...
T: In a sulphurous pit no less.
P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?
T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.
T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?
P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.
T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.
P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?
T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.
P: You're really good at cussing, yah?
T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.
P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.
T: I'll see what I can do.
Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.
T: You guys make small sandwiches.
P: Really?
T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.
P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...
P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.
P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.
T: What? Then what about bread?
P: There's a loaf at home.
T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...
P: Want an apple?
T: Ok.
P: Here.
T: Windfall?
P: How'd you guess?
T: It's all brown.
P: Oops. Wine?
T: I don't drink.
P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.
T: Maybe.
T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.
T: Water tastes better than wine.
P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?
T: You know, the plans never changed.
P: What are you going to do tonight?
T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!
P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.
T: True. Never stopped Obama.
P: Don't get me started on America.
T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!
P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.
A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.
T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.
Both men walked out of the Science Centre.
T: I'm hungry.
P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.
T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?
P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.
T: You have an ax to grind with TF?
P: No. Yes. No. Yes....
T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."
P: Do you eat dog?
T: Yeah.
P: Real dogs?
T: Yes.
P: Real dogs really?
T: Yes yeah yessy.
P: Ew...
T: There.
T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.
T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"
P: Maybe. Why?
T: How does canine taste?
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
What you don't know...
... I taught 7 hours and was in a meeting for an hour over a 9 hour stretch during my lunar birthday. That absolutely sucked the life out of me.
... Did three writing lectures last week. The students had to submit a 5 page paper three weeks later but most have not even read the assignment question, which apparently had been distributed to the class some 5 weeks ago. I spoke to the wall and I spoke Greek.
... Chinese New Year was very boring. I haven't eaten anything more than 3 pineapple tarts as of today and I don't intend to eat very many more. I wish I were less tired but I think I caught one of those symptomless flus. I'm just awfully tired.
... I had a spate of reasonable luck playing mahjong this year. I didn't play with real money but I don't really care. I just needed something to kill the time.
... I ordered a 3 kg "huat kuey" for Chinese New Year for collection on Friday. It was supposed to be placed on my dining table for the CNY period - huay kuey symbolises prosperity and we typically let it turn mouldy before discarding it - but on Saturday, the even of CNY, when I unwrapped the packaging of the huat kuey, it has already turned mouldy. Well, I'll just have an uber prosperous new year.
... Did three writing lectures last week. The students had to submit a 5 page paper three weeks later but most have not even read the assignment question, which apparently had been distributed to the class some 5 weeks ago. I spoke to the wall and I spoke Greek.
... Chinese New Year was very boring. I haven't eaten anything more than 3 pineapple tarts as of today and I don't intend to eat very many more. I wish I were less tired but I think I caught one of those symptomless flus. I'm just awfully tired.
... I had a spate of reasonable luck playing mahjong this year. I didn't play with real money but I don't really care. I just needed something to kill the time.
... I ordered a 3 kg "huat kuey" for Chinese New Year for collection on Friday. It was supposed to be placed on my dining table for the CNY period - huay kuey symbolises prosperity and we typically let it turn mouldy before discarding it - but on Saturday, the even of CNY, when I unwrapped the packaging of the huat kuey, it has already turned mouldy. Well, I'll just have an uber prosperous new year.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
No more talk of darkness
Forget these wide eyed fears
I'm here, no one can harm you...
Just a particularly difficult period to adjust to due to the number of suddenly occurring events that require my immediate attention.
I try my best to tell myself that it will blow over, it will be peaceful and smooth sailing but my powers of persuasion - at least for the self - is not effective this time.
There are changes that are supposed to but not bringing about changes. It's a mild frustration.
There are changes that are supposed to have taken place but have not taken place. It's a matter of time and space and work is winning.
There are changes that are not supposed to even happen but they are taking place. It's a strain on my precious little time, time which could otherwise be used for getting work done.
And then there are changes.
I know I will come out on top of this pile feeling stronger and better but it just feels weird to be running constantly into brick walls.
I guess it is in the stars.
Just had a online tarot reading. It is almost entirely countrapunctal to what I am feeling now. Even the "gods" are more upbeat than I am. Perhaps I should do what I was told - stop going after perfection.
It's a fault. I know. But failed perfection is still an attempt that will deliver stellar results.
I should take it easy. I've done my preparations and I'll just let things go. It's not like I've never done it before.
I'm here, no one can harm you...
Just a particularly difficult period to adjust to due to the number of suddenly occurring events that require my immediate attention.
I try my best to tell myself that it will blow over, it will be peaceful and smooth sailing but my powers of persuasion - at least for the self - is not effective this time.
There are changes that are supposed to but not bringing about changes. It's a mild frustration.
There are changes that are supposed to have taken place but have not taken place. It's a matter of time and space and work is winning.
There are changes that are not supposed to even happen but they are taking place. It's a strain on my precious little time, time which could otherwise be used for getting work done.
And then there are changes.
I know I will come out on top of this pile feeling stronger and better but it just feels weird to be running constantly into brick walls.
I guess it is in the stars.
Just had a online tarot reading. It is almost entirely countrapunctal to what I am feeling now. Even the "gods" are more upbeat than I am. Perhaps I should do what I was told - stop going after perfection.
It's a fault. I know. But failed perfection is still an attempt that will deliver stellar results.
I should take it easy. I've done my preparations and I'll just let things go. It's not like I've never done it before.
Friday, February 05, 2010
The Linear Human Mind
It can't turn-around
It never amazes me that students cannot appreciate when you write something like
1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 + 9
= 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5
+ 9 + 8 + 7 + 6
= (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + 5
= 4 * 10 + 5
= 45
The second step of the turn-around almost always eludes them.
Actually, another way of going about to do the same thing is:
S = 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 + 9
If we invert the sum, we get
S = 9 + 8 + 7 + 6 + 5 + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1.
Adding both sides, we get
2S = (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + (5 + 5) + (6 + 4) + (7 + 3) + (2 + 8) + (9 + 1)
2S = 2(1 + 9) + 2(2 + 8) + 2(3 + 7) + 2(4 + 6) + 2(5)
Therefore, dividing both sides by 2, we get
S = (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + 5
= 4 * 10 + 5
= 45.
I have no idea why it took our kids such a long time to figure out that both ways are the same.
Our learners expect a lot of crutches and hand holding. They want to be told how to think. They don't want to think. And that is worrying me.
Many conundrums in life require time and, if not mere elbow grease, mental grease. Our brains are there to work things out. We need to spend time to work things out.
It can't pick up new tricks
The human mind is also so trained to finding the final solution that it often forgets that the final solution is not exactly the solution we are looking for.
For instance, what is the value of the second last digit of the sum
66669 + 6669 + 669 + 69 + 9?
Many students are very content to solve the entire sum proclaim that the answer is 74 082.
They plain forgot that the answer is looking out for the second last digit.
Teach the child to use a butcher's knife and s/he'll use it even to kill a little chick.
After you teach them some technique to solve questions that involve larger numbers, they immediately resort to the technique without asking themselves if it was necessary.
For instance, how does one solve
8 + 18 + 28 + 38 + 48 + 58 + 68 + 78 + 88 - 9 * 8?
It is amazing that few realise that the answer is as simple as:
8 + 18 + 28 + 38 + 48 + 58 + 68 + 78 + 88 - 9 * 8
= 10 + 20 + 30 + 40 + 50 + 60 + 70 + 80
= 360.
I guess all I can say is creativity and innovation requires a keen eye for detail and an open mind to consider all possibilities.
We may have become too reliant on fixed gauges of success that we have forgotten the true measure of a person is on his/her extended ability to apply what s/he has learnt in school for life and not merely to solve test-style problems.
It never amazes me that students cannot appreciate when you write something like
1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 + 9
= 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5
+ 9 + 8 + 7 + 6
= (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + 5
= 4 * 10 + 5
= 45
The second step of the turn-around almost always eludes them.
Actually, another way of going about to do the same thing is:
S = 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 + 9
If we invert the sum, we get
S = 9 + 8 + 7 + 6 + 5 + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1.
Adding both sides, we get
2S = (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + (5 + 5) + (6 + 4) + (7 + 3) + (2 + 8) + (9 + 1)
2S = 2(1 + 9) + 2(2 + 8) + 2(3 + 7) + 2(4 + 6) + 2(5)
Therefore, dividing both sides by 2, we get
S = (1 + 9) + (2 + 8) + (3 + 7) + (4 + 6) + 5
= 4 * 10 + 5
= 45.
I have no idea why it took our kids such a long time to figure out that both ways are the same.
Our learners expect a lot of crutches and hand holding. They want to be told how to think. They don't want to think. And that is worrying me.
Many conundrums in life require time and, if not mere elbow grease, mental grease. Our brains are there to work things out. We need to spend time to work things out.
It can't pick up new tricks
The human mind is also so trained to finding the final solution that it often forgets that the final solution is not exactly the solution we are looking for.
For instance, what is the value of the second last digit of the sum
66669 + 6669 + 669 + 69 + 9?
Many students are very content to solve the entire sum proclaim that the answer is 74 082.
They plain forgot that the answer is looking out for the second last digit.
Teach the child to use a butcher's knife and s/he'll use it even to kill a little chick.
After you teach them some technique to solve questions that involve larger numbers, they immediately resort to the technique without asking themselves if it was necessary.
For instance, how does one solve
8 + 18 + 28 + 38 + 48 + 58 + 68 + 78 + 88 - 9 * 8?
It is amazing that few realise that the answer is as simple as:
8 + 18 + 28 + 38 + 48 + 58 + 68 + 78 + 88 - 9 * 8
= 10 + 20 + 30 + 40 + 50 + 60 + 70 + 80
= 360.
I guess all I can say is creativity and innovation requires a keen eye for detail and an open mind to consider all possibilities.
We may have become too reliant on fixed gauges of success that we have forgotten the true measure of a person is on his/her extended ability to apply what s/he has learnt in school for life and not merely to solve test-style problems.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Subconscious connections
Overhead in the news a few days ago that a Haitian man was pulled out of a rubble alive after being buried inside there for 11 days.
Actually, long before the news came out, I was already thinking about cockroaches, which are known for their ability to stay alive for weeks despite being decapitated.
Incredible resilience!
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Overhead on my morning walk/jog as I overtook two Indian ladies who occupied the entire five-foot path as they were walking abreast (and not in an Indian file).
"You know, I checked his compo and I asked if he knows how to write."
"..."
"They are all small words. What does he expect to get with all small words?"
I recalled then I read somewhere that Indian men have, within Asia, among the largest reproductive organs.
I wonder if the matchmakers would go, "It is all so small. What does he expect to get...?"
Size queens?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
A student who was stricken with chicken pox came to school despite getting a 7-day medical leave from the doctor.
She was probably concerned about her status as a guest student at the school, or she might have been shut out of the flat that she shared with two other schoolmates.
The school did not wish to have anything to do with the student as she was a guest and she wasn't putting up at the school hostel.
Her teachers were only too eager to get her to go home.
As I sat listening to this, images of ebola and leprosy came to my mind.
It's only chicken pox, a childhood disease. It is pitiful enough that a student far away from home is stricken with it.
Is chicken pox the new ebola?
And then I said, "She should be sent to the Communicable Disease Centre, since that's our default quarantine centre."
Are we basically good or basically bad?
Actually, long before the news came out, I was already thinking about cockroaches, which are known for their ability to stay alive for weeks despite being decapitated.
Incredible resilience!
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Overhead on my morning walk/jog as I overtook two Indian ladies who occupied the entire five-foot path as they were walking abreast (and not in an Indian file).
"You know, I checked his compo and I asked if he knows how to write."
"..."
"They are all small words. What does he expect to get with all small words?"
I recalled then I read somewhere that Indian men have, within Asia, among the largest reproductive organs.
I wonder if the matchmakers would go, "It is all so small. What does he expect to get...?"
Size queens?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
A student who was stricken with chicken pox came to school despite getting a 7-day medical leave from the doctor.
She was probably concerned about her status as a guest student at the school, or she might have been shut out of the flat that she shared with two other schoolmates.
The school did not wish to have anything to do with the student as she was a guest and she wasn't putting up at the school hostel.
Her teachers were only too eager to get her to go home.
As I sat listening to this, images of ebola and leprosy came to my mind.
It's only chicken pox, a childhood disease. It is pitiful enough that a student far away from home is stricken with it.
Is chicken pox the new ebola?
And then I said, "She should be sent to the Communicable Disease Centre, since that's our default quarantine centre."
Are we basically good or basically bad?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)