Xian: "you owe a comment"

Moved

2009-03-24T18:46:00.001+08:00

to http://wrandomlywarpedwritings.wordpress.com/

and about time too.

So, subscribe to the new feed, and change your links, if you happen to chance upon this

With apologies to 01 ventures GC

2009-03-17T22:40:00.005+08:00

Longing for something meaningful to do (or, perhaps, just to pass the time); to escape the self-less voyeur refreshing facebook every few minutes and have homework done; effortlessly yet not pointlessly. To not expend time and energies wondering how to exert energies and spend time.

This used a few minutes. Pffft.

Dying

2009-03-11T22:02:00.003+08:00

...Y'know, like a zombie. Feeling unseasonably sleepy and behind with work after class camp and a few days of school; thank goodness holidays are coming up. Life update: Taking Renaissance Programme instead of ISLE, not understanding and applying ideal gas law, too lazy to move to wordpress yet.

Watchmen:

2009-03-04T00:15:00.003+08:00

Absolutely worth spending five hours reading instead of packing for Mt. Ophir class camp. Tomorrow is going to be fun, especially if I choose to come home at 8pm again.

Too bad the movie is M18. DVD and someone else's home theatre, please volunteer yourselves

Marching in the Rain

2009-03-02T22:46:00.004+08:00

[obligatory weather-related bitching]

Xian is hating blogger but too lazy to switch to Wordpress.
Xian is also listening to Indie Canadian Rock Bands aka Stars

also also,
Xian has a PE teacher who like students to do pushups in the middle of a one lane road used by trucks. Y'know, like, when, they're being used.

Rain-[expletive deleted]-bows indeed

2009-02-26T22:55:00.003+08:00

No smoke without fire; no rainbows for people to gush over and discuss animatedly along with other gossip without torrential, Asian, monsoon, pitch-destroying downpours, replete with sky-splitting lightning and head-rattling thunder all serving to ruin perfect weather for a much-needed mind-numbingly relaxing game of Ultimate.

Not that I saw it, seeing how I was shut away at home due to rain. Might not have done my spirits much good to know there's no hope for another world-destroying 40-day-long Flood-causing downpour though.

Bollocks, quick peek at archives seem to show a steady progression into unwarranted, fake depression. Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine and not cutting myself yet.

With apologies to the Bard

2009-02-20T22:14:00.003+08:00

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

- Spike Milligan

It's better than continued lament of my self-consciously perceived continuing tortured existence

En-rich-men-T

2009-02-19T23:30:00.003+08:00

Xian is done with more than 1500 words of Raffles Enrichment Programmes™ applications.
In unrelated news, Xian is feeling more and more dog-tired and just wants to chill out with five hours of Ultimate. Instead, he has eight hours of class to relish and enjoy tomorrow.

In another unrelated note, 4pm is a very tranquil time of day. Especially when there happens to be a quiet street bathed in sunlight interspersed with shadows. It's not tranquil, it's beautiful. And when you drink it up and bask in the quiet warmth, walking slowly and enjoying the silence, the lightest of clouds creep up and those exquisitely cast shadows slowly fade to the colour of the grey tarmac. There's only one word to describe that: beautiful-er.

Five isn't really very reasonable

2009-02-18T21:33:00.004+08:00

I've had half a tutorial in three days (KI and Chinese don't count) and I'm dog-tired. RI(JC) is killing me. Either that or being woken up an hour earlier than usual by SMS reminders to go for Inter-house bridge. Which, amazingly, BW might do better than 4th place at. No telling until [insert house committee member's name]'s peppy email with over-the-top hightlighting, CAPS, and four too many different font sizes for tonight's IHC update.

(I hate myself for being such a whiner)

Edit; Congratulations to BW's Bridge people for the amazing 2nd place. And everyone else involved in the other IHC events?

Of Drunken Dreams and Sober Lips

2009-02-17T20:55:00.000+08:00

Morning's golden eye peers through
An unfamiliar window.
Sleep flees like the morning dew;
I'm dragged from rough motel sheets.

Standing with rank, cheap, coffee in hand
I'm shivering in the December chill
Cursing this "wintery wonderland"
Wondering why I'd traveled north at all.

Half open suitcase along the wall,
Rummaged through; clothes and things lie flung aside.
Yesterday's clothes, all piled on the floor.
Now, time to repack. All of it. Quickly.

Gathering it up and stuffing it all in
I find I'm putting the now cold coffee down and
Warming up instead with a shot of gin
Before continued pre-checkout drudgery.

I shave and wash in freezing water;
Last night's beer makes excellent breakfast.
In the carpark, bags in hand, I loiter
Just a moment, then, all packed up, I go.

I'm following frosty country roads
Through naked forest and across frozen streams,
And unless the beat-up car can't take the load
I won't stop for anyone or anything

Because that's the way travel really is.
For when you holiday with no one else
You slowly see that something's amiss.

The trees race by in unending blurs
Impassive like your rock-carved face.
You'll find yourself wishing it all back to the way it was:
To still be drunk on dreams behind stone-cold-sober lips.

Canonised Christian Martyr Feast Day Greetings

2009-02-14T19:42:00.003+08:00

or, happy Valentine's.

Before anything else though, kudos and high praise to RI(JC) Entrepreneurs Club for their spirit of opportunistic capitalism. Thank your for your invaluable service of providing economic stimulus by enticing individuals to invest hundreds of dollars on a hundred-and-one roses, to be sent anonymously. Or the copious amounts of stalks sold individually, those too.

Not that I'm bashing anyone of course. Or bitterly disillusioned and cynical. Heaven forbid the thought! In fact, I'll banish any doubts you might have by repeating (in, may I mention, an altogether cheerful manner) my earlier salutations:

~~Festive Pagan Festival Greetings~~
Happy Valentine's Day! [smiley]
Especially to all of you having fun at home in front of the computer [another smiley!]

~~That aside, I've completely forgotten what I intended to blog about.~~
That is, until I tried to open a webpage and wasted minutes of time.
[insert 1500 character rant about Starhub and slow internet connections]
[insert 900 character whine for faster, more reliable connections]
[insert blank space for time (approximately 30 minutes) wasted testing and comparing connections and ISPs]
[insert 500 character wish for switch to Singtel]
[End]

Reread

2009-02-11T18:21:00.005+08:00

[Enter Xian]

Xian is reading Kafka. Isn't that the first step of ascension to the heights of pretension?

In other news, Ultimate is dog-tiring yet fun, work has officially started, and I'm afraid of super muggers in my class.

[Exit Xian]

2009-02-06T23:32:00.004+08:00

O' Tiero 2009: Unity

When we look back
Wasn't it just yesterday
I couldn't find the words to say
To fill the empty silence
To break the awkward moments
A little smile and laughter shared
A friendship sparked because you cared
This path we tread wont be smooth
But together, we will pull though

Prechorus:
Walking hand in hand, heart to heart,
Joining voices to sing and dance
When I start this song, you'll sing along,
And we can just go on and on and on

Chorus:
When we look back, will we remember
Each moment of this year?
The days that mark out time in here
Threaten to disappear
All that we have's the present
To cherish while we can
Seizing every chance we're blessed with
And leave with no regrets

Took a firm step in this place
Wishes, hopes, we're in a daze
The cold walls are taunting
Just where's the warmth within?

Whenever you call my name
Across the corridor
The madness of chasing dreams
Doesn't matter anymore

Prechorus

Chorus

Bridge:
rough winds only bring us higher
tough fights only make us stronger
yet knowing we've got one another
we'll stick together more than ever
yeah.... yeah....

Chorus x2

All the friends we've made we won't forget
We'll leave with no regrets
These two years no regrets
These two years no regrets

It's lovely isn't it? It'd be wonderful to leave (and live) with no regrets; to know there's a voice out there that can chase away the madness of the soul; to know that, "As Rafflesians, you'll never have to face it alone."

A friendship sparked because you cared
What fire starts without a spark; what spark flames without fuel?

Really, is orientation any more than a flint to which tinder and wood must be provided? Apologies to those left on a high; is it really possible to build heart-to heart relationships in 70-odd hours? Are you going to mourn a death in the family with someone you've shared a few jokes with? Can you share your hopes and dreams and expect loving support from someone you've participated in activities with? Can failures and successes, ambitions and dark secrets, heart and soul, be poured out to someone with whom you've only chatted about the same boat you're in? (edit: am I always this bitter?_)

Of course, that's not to say there's anything the matter with enjoying orientation. With knowing new people or with having fun with them. But it's certainly only just started, and it's surely too early to have built very much of very great importance. I hope.

So, tell me, how are friends made in a matter of days and hours? How are people, when put, not drawn, together, able to hit it off just like (fingersnap) that?

mood: frustrated, undirectedly envious, somewhat depressed

2009-02-04T19:29:00.009+08:00

Hmmm, apologies for yesterday's post. Writing when tired too late in the evening is akin to being drunk for me.

A great many things and so much to think; too little to say, nothing spoken. Drunk on dreams behind stone-cold-sober lips.

Eloquently chronicling ineloquent inarticulateness aside, it's now time to attempt banishing that inarticulateness.

I learnt something new today. That's one of those life tips you always hear right? Learn something new every day. Or change something if you find yourself waking up dreading a new day. Or do one thing you've never done before. Well, upstairs exclamations in my home produce excellent echoes when the house is empty. Either that or my "woo!" hits resonant frequencies in the structure. Long story short I'm in frisbee cca, which kinda seems like it would be a good thing. Fingers crossed then.

Still feel odd in OG. Maybe I'm just shy/antisocial. Or perhaps I possess a hidden quality that makes me incredibly repungent. I'm Waiting to see.

Other thoughts racing through my head; streaked long exposure photos of the carnival are thoughts not-quite-exploding into word-covered-paper, coming to fruition in sticky, overripe messes. Not worth the bother.

2009-02-03T22:34:00.004+08:00

Xian wants to write something meaningful, witty, novel, funny, interesting, or at least original and mildly entertaining. Instead he's filling this space with mindless drivel for the sake of... mindless drivel (aka, for the sake of filler)

[insert promise to switch to a less useless blogskin. Or maybe to Wordpress.]

Apparently, my weakest of the multiple intelligences is interpersonal intelligence. I'm sure it's around-work-able. (Why am I even posting this. I'm such an attention whore.)

Orientation tomorrow go! (?)

2009-02-02T23:01:00.006+08:00

It's day one of orientation.¹ Perhaps it isn't fair to pass judgment so soon, but our Orientation Group isn't really very fun.² But then, I have the highest of hopes.³

However, the important thing really isn't orientation.⁴ Or rather, there's something else I'd like to talk about.⁵

Conversation falls (somewhat) on the topic of religion. "[name withheld] is really like a Christian".⁶

What then, does it mean to be a Christian>? Or rather, to be "really like a Christian"? Does it mean (as was implied by the speaker) to be an ~~externally~~ moral person? To live in a manner recognised as Christian or as "good"?

More importantly, is this (Christian appearance) what is required of myself, even as I identify as Christian? [my opinion:] the external appearance isn't the most important thing; it is important to the extent that we are called to be the light of the earth (Matthew 5: 14-16), but far more important is the issue of being more than moral, more than good, but Christian and Christ-following on the inside; to lead a life that follows Christ and to exhibit Christ-like behaviour

So, most importantly then, is that what I'm doing? Am I striving to lead the life of a Christ-following disciple? I find myself not completely sure that I'm trying my best and giving my all, and it makes me afraid. Is that why it bothers me so when I hear someone saying "[name withheld] is really Christian"?

And something else that made me think today: (or, perhaps, should be thinking about)
I may believe in God, but why do I do it? What reason do I have for my belief? What testimony can I give to support my belief in God? Can I tell anyone why I believe? Hmmmprrhhh (read: sigh...)

Mood: Contemplative⁷

¹ And a MediaCorp news crew shows up. Hurrah, for not enough news in Singapore, and the general standards of Singaporean Mandarin TV news. (Yes, it is the first year that there's one intake, but let me remain in my illusions and to keep dissing MediaCorp alright?)

² By which I mean, without any offense at all, and with the highest of hopes of change(Yes we can! Hail to the chief!), that our OG is pretty shy. Or quiet. Or not overly competitive. Or attention-seeking. Or in your face. Come to think of it, perhaps it isn't that bad. So, highest of hopes to get to know people better then.

³ See above footnote. I can't decide if there's any ironic/humourous wordplay in endnotes being above. That's a damn shame.

⁴ Despite, as one of our school staff informed the MediaCorp Chinese language news team, it being the first day of school, and the most excellent, well-planned, engaging, and fun activities planned by the J2s, there really is something else I'd rather ruminate over.

⁵ Ruminate over. Then discuss.

⁶ Something to that effect. To the best of my memory.

⁷ Wait, this isn't LiveJournal

2009-02-01T22:07:00.001+08:00

Congrats' Nadal.

(why is everyone a Federer fan =.=)

2009-01-25T18:17:00.001+08:00

Jing Xian is sorry that he has overused and cheapened the word "epic"; so much so that he is now at a loss of words to describe Alastair Reynold's truly epic Revelation Space Universe/trilogy

2009-01-25T14:32:00.001+08:00

At cold storage, at the delicatessen section

Lady: (points at chicken) what flavour is this?
Staff: Chicken.

2009-01-19T13:04:00.006+08:00

Disclaimer: The following contains material of a potentially frightening nature. However, if you are unafraid to ponder the possibility of being unable to make any choice at all, or are kind enough to do me the favour of reading and critiquing my thoughts, please do read on.

Consider a closed system, comprising an apple, in existence a distance above an object of significant gravity, say, the Earth. Start time. The apple, obeying common physical laws, falls to the ground. Or a bullet, racing towards a man. Start time, and it strikes him.

Consider then, a larger system. Say, a gun. Pull the trigger, and a number of physical reactions occur, sparking a chemical reaction, which again triggers the physical reaction of a speeding bullet. All in accord with the physical laws that exist in the system.

Consider then, the Universe as a system. The cosmos dancing in beautiful rhythm, governed by a set of laws that exist, regardless of humanity's knowledge (of these laws). In this Universe, there exists people, made of the very same stuff as everything else. And as all stuff, held accountable to the law, they obey with perfect precision, for every moment, right until the end of time.

Assuming that the body is governed by the brain and the brain is made of stuff, the decisions of the brain and the actions of the body are then governed by the particulate behavior of stuff, which is perfectly predictable by the laws of the Universe. And thus, the terrifying conclusion is reached; free will is an illusion and any state of the Universe is fated and (theoretically) predictable.

I give you the frightening possibility of a deterministic Universe. Determinism, however, is (at least partially) debunked by chaos theory and quantum uncertainty. Therefore, move on to what really terrifies me.

Take the existence of a sovereign, omnipotent God. (for those of you who can't, assume, for the sake of argument). Let's define omnipotence, shall we? We'll take it to mean capable of anything, and aware and in control of every thing that occurs, until the end of time.

An omnipotent God is therefore aware of every man's actions. God is also capable of influencing that man's actions and choices. Is the God then responsible for the man's actions? Is the man incapable of acting outside of the omnipotent agency of this God? By his omnipotent character, is God incapable of "not making a choice", for by doing so he in fact makes a choice, that leads to consequences?

The existence of an omnipotent God thus brings us to the same, ghastly, conclusion. Free will is impossible. The closest one can get is a facsimile, true motivations possibly being the decisions of an omnipotent God or the result of matter blindly following dead laws, but never a consciousness that resides within a man.

However, I offer those of you who are greatly troubled some small comfort. Read on.

Chaos theory posits that large systems quickly degenerate into chaos, meaningless and unpredictable, despite the abundance of laws that can accurately predict short-term, small-scale outcomes. Quantum uncertainty makes it impossible for every property of any discrete particle to be known simultaneously. This "quantum fuzziness" makes it impossible to make perfect predictions.

However, consider instead the minutiae of the atoms that comprise your brain. It is rather difficult, is it not? Or the extreme complexity of a weather system. It is hard to grasp and predict the future, for our puny human minds, yes?

So, a perfectly predictable Universe remains perfectly perplexing (, and opaque) to us mere mortals. In making our decisions, we (our brains) experience what feels like choice and independent will. The decisions we make feel all too real to us. An excuse cannot be made "that wasn't my choice", simply because, to all measurable extents and purpose, an action is the result of free will and choice.

Similarly, the will of an omnipotent God are so far beyond us, so much so that our decisions appear to be motivated by independent will, and for all practical purposes are indiscernible from such. The existence of an omnipotent God does not absolve us from seeming (to ourselves and to other) to make the right choice.

Well then. I'm done. I thank you for reading this far, and do hope that you will poke holes in my arguments, delivering all of us from the deterministic terror of a world without free will, or plunging us further into this pit of despair. For the sake of truth, then, be honest with me!

Ps. Comment on the post, not on the tagboard, if at all possible. Much thanks.

2009-01-11T16:34:00.003+08:00

KI placement test on tuesday? The holidays, despite having been filled with fulfilling, often fun, sometimes stressful, but definitely enjoyable, and possibly character building experiences, have reduced, by a significant amount, my capability to construct intelligent, logical, rational, witty, and entertaining words to form coherent sentences, and to put them down on paper.

And although usually it's the latter two that concern me more, right now the first three are more worrying.

My brain has turned to a slightly sticky, surely sickly, yellow mush. It probably isn't very tasty.

2009-01-09T09:46:00.002+08:00

Gosh, it's one, two, three, four, five, count 'em, days to school. Not very long at all. KI placement test is next Tuesday, let's see how that goes shall we?

I'm approaching JC with a feeling of quiet excitement, slight apprehension, and perhaps just that little bit of wistfulness. But, it should be good. Heh.

And for anyone who wants to know how unoccupied I am, I watched 8 episodes of Heroes yesterday. Hurhur.

2009-01-04T16:34:00.002+08:00

Hoho, I should have posted this yesterday, but to heck with internet-addiction and attention-whoring-what-I-just-did to the world a la Twitter (justified, but uncalled for. Apologies.)

Anyway, in sputter-inducing fashion, I shall now utterly repudiate the above sentence.

Xian has finally gone cycling on Ubin after badgering peopel for ages. And it's quite cake compared to freaking hill country in Ireland.

2009-01-02T23:50:00.002+08:00

Xian is tired of talking. Will you talk to him?

(is also ashamed of using a blog to twitter. To all Twitter users: Nobody really cares. You, my dear friends, are the real twihards)

2008-12-30T16:18:00.002+08:00

My wrist hurts like a shopper caught in a post-Christmas gift-returning crush, or an unwilling new year party partygoer. Or like it's been twisted to an angle it usually shouldn't be at by a football.

Just back from soccer at the cage and a very fruitful trip of going to town and not playing LAN. Not that fruitful if I aimed to not see people crowding in final LAN sessions of the year. Everywhere.

Yeah, I'm pretty incoherent now. And typing predominantly with my left hand. Which goes to prove there's always a bright side. Go ambidexterity training!

2008-12-25T22:06:00.001+08:00

Merry Christmas everyone! And a blessed 2009!

Now, who wants to lend me The Joshua Tree?

2008-12-24T09:53:00.001+08:00

I’m sitting here staring
At a long ride home
Typing and not caring
That I’m here alone

I’m here and just waiting
To get me a drink
Typing and just trying
To sleep and not think

(Adjusting to time differences isn’t fun)

And now, we resume our regularly scheduled (yet irregularly updated) programming.

My previous post was, if I’m not wrong, after getting back from Avenue Q. Which leaves two days to blog about (three, considering that this will only get posted after arriving in Singapore. Fortunate then that the flight hasn’t been delayed.) (strangeness with tense: apologies. Blogging in the present about the past for publication in the future: odd)

Avenue Q. That was good. Funny, politically incorrect, adult, lewd, and obscene, still managing commentary on its themes. Wait, I’ve said that. So, Avenue Q… walked Leicester and Covent Garden…back home to sleep… wake up.

~~Slept in the next day if I’m not wrong.~~ Crap I am wrong. And I need to stop relying on “If I’m not wrong” as a crutch. After Avenue Q was Sunday, so no sleeping in. Waking early to cycle four miles to church instead. At least we didn’t walk/jog/run. My observations all point to my brother’s church (All Souls) being an Anglican church. Replete with organist, violinist, cellist, flutist, pianist, hornist, and conductor. Grand, old building, grand old traditions as well. It was certainly different, especially in the songs they sing and the manner in which they have corporate prayer. The choice of songs evoke a greater reverence and awe of God, worshipping him for who He is, and not because of how we feel. Their manner of corporate prayer, where the minister/leader prays and the congregation finishes with an “amen” is, in my humble opinion, indicative of a greater tradition of officialdom and rigid hierarchy, where members are less responsible for their faith, and church leaders more so.

Following church was, of course, the most likely event that proceeds church. Lunch. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Lunch in Chinatown constituting “beef in black bean sauce with green peppers and onions on rice” and “crispy noodles with watery egg sauce on triple roast”, with my brother and friend Wesley (whose name evokes the hero of “The Princess Bride” every time I hear it. Apologies to you Wesley, if you ever read this and are offended. You are a very nice person)

Post-lunch activity: shop at Lillywhites—the sports and apparel store with year round up to 70% discount sales. Marketing gimmick it may be, but 70% off £29.99 Pierre Cardin shirts is most satisfying. Wanted to get Karrimor shoes at £20 but decided against it.

Purchases made, we proceeded home, rested for awhile, and then cycled to the Emirates Stadium. Tickets for an Arsenal v Liverpool match are going to be sold out at least two months before the match, and resellers would probably charge two hundred quid apiece. And one would probably need to have contacts. Which we most certainly did not. Although walking around the stadium on a huge match day is rather an experience.

But there’s always another kind of experience you can get in England. Namely, standing in a pub watching football, next to a drunk, vulgar (to the extreme) Arsenal fan. Who becomes so predictable it’s funny. Examples:

Referee appears on the TV
Fat fan, beer in hand: Wanker!

Gerrad appears on the TV
Fat fan, beer in hand: Cheat! Cheat!

Robbie Keane appears on the TV
Fat fan, beer in hand: Wanker!

Suddenly out of nowhere
Fat fan, beer in hand: And **** that fatboy Frank Lampard as well!

I won’t be going into more details about the match here, for the sake of brevity and my (very few) readers. On then, to the next activity. Christmastime dinner at another of my brother’s friend’s houses. In the East Side, south of the river, 11km from Highbury. Or was that eleven miles?

Note to self: asparagus wrapped in ham, a Portobello mushroom with cheese, some mash, a little pasta, the tiniest hunk of roast beef and a few slices of roast chicken can make one inordinately full. Or perhaps it was the Ferreo Rocher, Ben and Jerry’s, and the cheese and butter cookies. Because there’s nothing better than chasing a Christmas dinner down with ice cream, cookies, chocolate, and a four hour discussion on extravagance, ideals, propriety in worship (I think), and who knows what else. Slept over, at 2am.

Monday (how totally unoriginal and uninspired a subheading)\

Woke up in a bed not my own. Check.
Eat breakfast in a house when the owner’s out. Check
Discover bicycle tyre is flat. Check
Push bicycle 2-3 km to a gas station. Check
Reinflate tyre and cycle to Westminster. Check

Discover there’s an entrance fee to Westminster Abbey and decide to not come back at evensong because it would be a waste of time to go for a service and sit when the primary aim is to sightsee. Check.

That pretty much sums up Monday. Except for the sushi buffet for dinner. But it wasn’t worth much mention. Oh right, packing. Wait, what? Packing is worth more mention then a sushi buffet? It most certainly is not. So I won’t even mention it at all. Strikethrough all mention of packing.

And, since waking up, I’ve taken the Tube to Heathrow (the first time on public transport in two weeks. Propulsion not dependent on muscle power for the first time in two weeks, discounting aircraft. I’m not sure what I’m trying to illustrate; it’s probably my incredulity that it took that long to get a ride on the Tube. And at how expensive it is)

Airport, check in, luggage check, passport control, machine scanning of shoes, walking through shops to before realising that I’m cutting it close, getting into the enormous queue at the gate. Old hat. Except for the SHOE SCANNING. Past the perplexing scans, we get to the aircraft. Namely, the one I’m in. The one I’m blogging in as I wait for the lunch I will eat before proceeding to sleep in an attempt to maintain sanity and preserve time for gift preparations and card writing after I arrive in Singapore.

~Pause for sitting in aircraft with nothing to blog about~

Posted at home, 9.52am, 24/12/2008 Intended to post at changi, but forgot. Heh.

2008-12-20T03:25:00.003+08:00

Alright, instead of overly elaborate excuses and apologies—

(fill this space with an admission of laziness to write 400 word posts every day, and thus resorting to posting once every couple of days)

By my reckoning, I've spent (including today) three days tourist-ing London. The first couple of days don't count, then there was the four days in Ireland. Wednesday's covered in the previous post. So, begin with Thursday's exploits is something I will do. Here. Now.

I did mention our plans to visit the Tower of London, Tate museums, the Thames, and Tower Bridge, yes? Being a lazy bum, thursday morning was a wasted. Accomplishment of the morning: looking for discounts and deciding to save money by not going on the London Eye.

Following lunch, we cycled to the Tower of London. Which, surprisingly enough, isn't just a tower. It's got two rings of walls, thirteen stone towers archers can shoot out of, a formerly typhoid-carrying moat (now grass) and fortified just about everything. In other words, military waving-my-wang-in-your face, or what the British would consider for a royal residence.

Oh, and the Crown Jewels are kept in the Tower (Castle) of London as well. Won't go in to too much detail here; suffice to say, the Tower was interesting, much.

Right, Tower of London. Done. Next, Tower Bridge. Skip, because it's not worth £3 just to go up. Admiring it like a boxing match (from afar) is rather enough. Okay, so, no Tower Bridge. St Paul's Cathedral, biggest in the world after St Peter's basilica, then. Except, that you have to pay to tour the Cathedral, and if you go in for free during times of worship, you can't really walk around and all that. Unless you want to piss off quite a few Anglicans. So, short walk around the outside and a little bit of the inside then. By which time it's dark. As dark as the darkest ~~night~~ of 4 o'clock wintertime London. (Not to say that the Cathedral isn't beautiful. It's magnificent. But magnificent buildings can only be admired for this long by a layperson like myself. A length of time between how long a painting could hold me and the duration an exhibit at the science museum interests me)

So, what do you follow a thirteen-and-a-half century old cathedral up with other than the Millennium Bridge eh? Which offers a scintillating view of the Cathedral framed between other buildings when one crosses it. Crossing, we visited the Tate Modern for a little while. It really is a pity I have no eye for art (nor ear for music, but that's for another time). Especially modern or contemporary art.

So, Castle, Cathedral, Museum already. What's next? the Thames of course. Walked along the banks, through the Christmas markets, past the London Eye (you decide, does it add to or ruin the skyline and the countless beautiful ancient buildings in London?), and on towards Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and Trafalgar Square.

So, Parliament looks even better for real than a thousand James Bond films put together could make it seem. It's just so surreal to be seeing it in the ~~flesh~~ stone, to feel the history, even from across the Thames. Too bad then that Parliament's closed (most likely, for Christmas), and there weren't, and won't be any tours. Westminster Abbey was closed by the time we got there, so I intend another visit. Soon. Trafalgar Square has a 30-metre high memorial dedicated to Admiral Nelson. Wow.

Oh, and I met my brother's Indian landlady for the first time. She was quite nice. I think.

And now, for today. Woke up and got moving earlier today, in order to purchase best remaining seats for £20 for Avenue Q (more about that later). See, how it works is that on the day of the musical, any unbooked seats are sold to students for the low low price of £20. So we got stall seats usually costing some £60 for cheap. Excellent. From Leicester Square, we proceeded to a street market recommended by my brother's Indian landlady to take a looksee. It was varied and colourful, but we ended up buying nothing except for a £7.50 Gaiman book for me, and a £20 secondhand bicycle for my brother. Which he then proceeded to tow for some 5(?) miles.

The original plan was to go do more sightseeing in the afternoon, before catching an early dinner and heading off to the theatre. Foiled by an additional bicycle, we made our way home to eat home-cooked-baked-rice-with-butter-cheese-leftover-roast-chicken-and-spices. Did I mention it was some two cups of rice? For two people? (Well, we didn't actually eat all of it. We had four "servings" each, and left one. So that's 8/9ths of a cup of rice and a quarter block of butter each. Yaymmmm fats!)

Ate dinner, lazed around. Finished the £1.98 tub of Ben & Jerry's (with Bailey's Irish Cream). Cycled back to Leicester Square for Avenue Q. And boy, was it great.

It wasn't side-split tingly funny, though it was definitely very, very funny. Might have been uproariously funny with different company though. (Not that I'm suggesting anything. Other than that the RI boys I know would be very tickled by Avenue Q's humour. And lewdness).

If you let it, Avenue Q also touches the heart. And provokes some very thought provoking questions. While still entertaining with lewd, sometimes slapstick humour and also with wit, the purpose of showcasing the drudgery of purposesless life is more than accomplished. Kudos to the excellent cast (well, they've done it for nearly three years). The music and songs are inspired, crude, lewd, provocative, and yet still funny and charming. All in all, brava!

After leaving the theatre, we walked the West End, Leicester Square, and Piccadilly for some time, soaking in the London weekend night vibe. Pretty happening if you ask me. Although London is so big and such a melting pot that there are bound to be jackasses sometimes. Anyway, we walked around just soaking up the vibe (there was a mini Christmas carnival), and then cycled back at midnight.

And now, I'm posting this at it approaches two. Intend to do some souvenir shopping, see Westminster Abbey, and visit the Emirates Stadium. Too bad Arsenal v Liverpool tickets for Sunday are all sold out, and scalpers will probably be selling them at 300 quid apiece. We'll see. Cheers!

2008-12-18T06:30:00.002+08:00

Nuts! Chocolate covered Brazil nuts! Had some of those in Ireland, and they weren't half bad too.

Nuts! I'm getting lazy to post as well. Failing to live up to daily updates—
Apologies.

Got back from Ireland late yesterday, was a little tired to blog. We'll get to that in just a moment. Most of yesterday was spent in Galway, or commuting.

Galway was... good, in its own manner. It has all the trappings of a large city: Big streets, shopping areas, high end joints, ice rink, river, swans, bayside promenade, ancient catholic churches...

...oh, right, elaboration.

Not much to say actually. In all seriousness, it wasn't worth very much mention. (Or, I'm just lazy to recollect and write.) Morning wanderings in the pedestrian-only shopping areas, picking up a few souvenirs, sightseeing along the bay, visiting tourist attractions and the sort, (churches, swans, and the ice rink). Had lunch at a (supposedly famous) chippy, with some three days worth of oil and two days of sodium. Washed it down with even more gallivanting around town.

Before catching the 4 o'clock bus, copious amounts of free food was obtained from local fast food outlet, via a convoluted reward/everyone's a winner promotion by said fast food chain, and retrieval of discarded drinks cups bearing redemption promises by yours truly and brother.
In Other Words:
Promotion+Thick Skin+Taking Trash=Free Food=Made Day

Two hour bus journey and three hour transit through airport, aircraft, and airport again finally bring us back to England, still without any Bailey's except whatever was in the cheesecake from the previous dinner. Back at no-visibility Stanstead airport, sans Baileys, and almost without souvenirs. Blame the only store in all of Shannon airport departure hall being closed for stock-taking.

And now, that thing about being too tired to blog yesterday. The new theory regarding the awful bad luck and ruined transport has been revised. The universe is conspiring to keep me away from cycling. Or, at the very least, trying to. The bicycle (chained next to the bus stop four days ago, before we took the bus to the airport, yes?) tyre was flat. Flat and soft, and most definitely unusable. Wow. How many other things are flat and soft? Lucky me. SO, one hour of pushing bikes brings us home, which I still haven't arrived at before midnight.

~And now, for something completely different~

That is, a day without absurdly bad luck or messed up transport. Scrounged up something to eat in the morning (read, before noon) before going out in the afternoon. Spinach, eggs, toast, garlic bread don't sound too bad, right?

Oh, lady luck actually smiled on us today. Turns out the bike tyre was flat, but not punctured. So, repumped, and good to go. (Bloody punks vandalising property and letting air out of tyres.) We cycled to the Natural History Museum, which happens to be next to the Science Museum. And so, in we went.

London is bleeding excellent. Free entry to all the museums and whatnot. Singapore institutions are so terribly cash-strapped. And aren't good or important enough to get patronage or enough visitors to be sustained on contributions. So, today was a lovely time in the Science and Natural History Museums. Would rather have spent more time in the Science Museum and less in the other one though. How interesting can rocks (and stuffed animals) get, compared to the length and breadth of human ingenuity?

We left the museums after dark, spent a little time at the Christmas market in Hyde Park, to take a look at the overpriced rides and food. Mmmmmm, delicious food. Which we had. Not to say the food at Hyde Park. Although it was delecious. We had delicious food. At a Chinese restaurant nearby which does excellent roast duck. Half a roast duck, deep fried squid with salt and chilli, and pi pa dou fu, and lots of rice. Making up for the last few days in Ireland, eh?

I won't detail the cycle back from Dinner, except to say that Oxford Street (it's the main shopping district) isn't really very impressive. Orchard road matches up methinks. Suffice to say, traffic would cause spontaneous combustion to occur in a number of drivers, should car breakdowns occur on Oxord Steet.

And, that pretty much sums up the last couple of days. Going to the Tate(s), Tower of London, Thames, Tower Bridge(?), and that general area tomorrow. Hope for nothing to break down for me. Cheers!

2008-12-16T06:15:00.004+08:00

Date: Monday, December 15th, 2008
Location: Inis Mór, Republic of Ireland + Galway, Republic of Ireland
Weather: Bloody miserable

Oh, nuts. I forgot to blog about yesterday's dinner. And, as my dear brother so kindly put it, the "psychopath" at the hostel. Dinner was just pasta we made ourselves with stuff bought at the supermarket in Galway. The psychopath (henceforth known as Peter, because that is his name) was a ukulele playing man, with his (most likely) wife in tow. And resembles, as my dear brother observed, "Peter from Family Guy", because of his coarsity of language, skills with a musical instrument, coarsity of language towards spouse, and general inconsideration. I hope I didn't get that wrong (forgive me. At least I haven't used quote marks). So, this fellow's steak requires a rather lot of butter. And the all the gas stoves on to keep himself (and the kitchen) warm. The end result being a very smokey kitchen, a lingering buttery smell (even till the next day), and stoves that cease to be functioning the following day.

We also met a rather nice Irish lady at the hostel. But, more about her later. Because, the weather is actually a conversation topic in these parts of the world where it's woeful.

The weather yesterday was rather pleasant actually. No rain or hail, quite a bit of sun, few clouds. Can't say the same about today. Think about a cloudless day. Blue skies as far as the eye can see. The sun hanging in the air like a massive golden orb in a majestic ballroom. Today was pretty much nothing like that. Add a bone-chilling wind, stinging sheets of rain, and biting cold to the grey shroud in every direction and you get a rough approximation of the weather.

The original plan being to cycle, we walked the mile or so back to town, to greet resolutely shut bike shops. Actually, to greet resolutely shut everything. For the rest of the day. Either the Aran islands are really laid back for a tourist economy, or they figure nobody's mad enough to venture out in weather like today's. As we proceeded to walk the 7 or so kilometres to the foot of Dún Aengus (Fort of Aengus, the ruins of an ancient hillfort on a cliff, off which people have been blown by the wind to their deaths) and then to climb up, we met that nice Irish lady I was talking about. And spent the rest of our time on the island with her.

Holidaying in hostels and going out hiking is really fun, if you chance upon fun, interesting and sociable people. (Unfortunately, I don't fit the bill). Good thing Arran Murphy fits that bill then. She's a part time clothing designer, and part time musician in the band Dark Room Notes (MySpace here), an Irish alternative/electronica band who's travelled around some. Good company, yes, most certainly.

We climbed Dún Aengus, and it was worth it, despite the wind, rain, cold, wet in the shoes and the gloves, and all that other weather related nonsense. Worth it to be the only ones atop a desolate windswept cliff, well aware of it's history in excess of 4000 years, admiring the ingenuity and tenacity of the land's ancient peoples, and to be braving the same rains and winds they braved. Worth it to stand five feet from the cliff edge, and to feel the tug of a stray gust. To be able to see the wind—dashing itself against the sheer cliff surface, throwing spray upwards in gravity-defying, mind-boggling sheets. And to observe in awe the tremendous power of the waves pounding the rock, ponderously backwashing, and meeting the next one, churning the water into a vicious, yet awe-inspiring froth.

Having braved Dún Aengus, we treated ourselves to lunch at a place at the foot of the path up, and made our way back to the hostel. (And because it's getting late, the rest of this post will be brief). Followed it up with a walk to town, sat in the pub for a short while as Arran had a pint of Guinness, and caught the ferry and bus (1.74 hours) back to Galway. All with feet not differing not too much from blocks of ice. We treated ourselves to dinner at a restaurant somewhere near the quay (Bailey's cheesecake for dessert, and it actually had Bailey's, unlike some jam sold in some jam shops in County Clare). Made our way to the hostel, took a good warm shower, and ended up here, blogging. Aaaaaand, done.

2008-12-16T05:00:00.002+08:00

Right, didn't blog yesterday because of the awful hostel we stayed the night at charging €2.50 for half an hour of internet usage.

Anyhoo, it's not too much of a problem eh? (mutter: and not that much happened over yesterday and today anyway)

Chronological order then:
Sunday December 14: Morning begun after sleeping for some 12 hours or so. (Don't look at me like that. [indignation] the sun sets early!)

Right, so usual morning routine; freshening up, shower, huge breakfast with smoked salmon, frozen fish fillets, toast, jam, sausages, and tea. Blahblahblah. The humongous breakfast not requiring enough time, the decision is made to cycle to the cliffs of Moher again. Well, the route we take is slightly shorter and more scenic, but uphill most of the way anyway (well, that's probably because they're cliffs. And 800 feet high) So, more uphill cycling later, and we come to the gorgeous cliffs. On a day with marginally better weather (read, more sunlight, less clouds). There is a spot from near the cliffs which overlooks the bay and the village on the shore, and yesterday, the sun was hanging right over the bay, (like that Shakespearean golden eye) and the bay itself, wow. A pool of golden, blinding but still alluring light. A pool of molten gold the size of rather a few golf courses. The description is hardly adequate, but the lighting made it impossible to get a goof photograph. Enough said then, that I literally said "wow" when I saw it.

We didn't actually spend that long at the cliffs. The weather was pleasant, the view good, but we were short on time, and, well, we were after all, there, just, the day before. Excessive and unnecessary comma usage behind us now, (I truly and sincerely believe that's how street trash Americans sounds like, except, that, like, they add, like, the word "like" almost every, like, three words as well) Excessive and unnecessary tirade aside, we now continue with our regularly scheduled programming. That is, blogging about the nice, uneventful, not-tiring, altogether enjoyable bicycle ride down the hills back towards Doolin to return the bikes.

Remember that other post when I mentioned the jinx on transport except bicycles? Does a tyre puncture count as accursed bad luck? At least it occur ed on the second day. And near Doolin. At the top of the hills back towards Doolin. And that my brother can be nice sometimes.

As for the rest of yesterday, it isn't worth much mention. Two hour bus rides where an Irish couple can play the hand-slapping game for at least a half hour straight (probably more than that) aren't worth mention, yes?

Oh, sorry about that. There was something else yesterday that is worth mention. The ferry trip to the Aran Islands (more specifically, Inis Mór, the largest of the islands) conjured such beautiful words to my mind. I do hope you'll agree with me. Because that ferry trip across 9 miles of Atlantic ocean after sundown, with windows the colour of tar (excuse me for forgoing the more common simile of black pitch), was akin to a mother's gentle cradle, rocking in a faintly circular motion, a comfort from the terrors of the dark outside. A soothing motion, not quite regular, but comforting all the same. Until the Big One comes. Up, up, up it goes, and the slightest hint of inertia tugging you into the seat, but before it happens it's down, down, down, and the weightlessness comes, seemingly for ever, but then it's over almost before it begins. And, far from being discomforting, it brings an anticipation for the adventure of the next. For what wave and what wind can terrify, if the worst has already come and gone? Soon, the swells and the valleys mean nothing at all, and every one, big or small, fades into just one more rock of the cradle, until, all that is left is the gentle oblivion of a slumber bred of exhaustion.

We planned on walking the mile to the hostel, but were fortunate enough to hitch-hike half the distance there. Thank you friendly Irish lady and husband! Considering the already considerable length of this post, I'll blog about the terrible hostel in the next post. Which would be centered on today's events. Which I'll begin writing in about 30 seconds time. Which I'm separating from this post for ease of reading and continuity's sake. Yep, this is all for this post. So, that's it then. Goodbye. See ya. Bye. Yes, really. Bye.

2008-12-14T17:42:00.004+08:00

More greetings from the Emerald Isle! and now I know why it's so named

(this post was meant for last night, but I lay on the bed an conked out in about 4 seconds, so, manifold apologies)
lmost
Yesterday generally involved traversing County Clare via personal locomotion (read, walking and cycling). And it turns out Ireland is covered with hills. That aside, let me regale you with yesterday's journeys.

Leaving the hostel when it was still dark (before 8.30am), we walked the 6km from Lisdoonvarna to Doolin in a leisurely hour and a half. Gorgeous sunrise, rolling green plains that go on forever, bubbling brooks, grazing cattle, horses and sheep. Words, and even pictures don't do it justice, but I'll do my best (and post photographs on facebook when I get back).

spectacular. from some vantage points, they don't appear to be much, until you remember they tower in excess of 200m. Which dwarfs nearly every building in Singapore. Standing near the cliff edge, one can just about make out the white specks of seagulls on the cliff surface, tiny against the enormous cliff face. Looking down, the waves crashing along the shore appear to trundle along at an agonisingly slow pace, although they're not doubt racing at a bone-crushing speed. Then it hits that the cliffs are so astoundingly high that the crashing of those ginormous waves is inaudible atop the cliffs. Again, I can't possibly do it justice here. nor can I do justice the the Renting bikes at Doolin, we cycled another 6km uphill to the cliffs of Moher. Which are awe-inspiringlymyriad other sights along the Irish countryside and the Burren; rolling green plains, quaint little hamlets visible in the distance, picture-perfect with plumes of smoke rising from chimneys. And of course, the amzing coastline.

I'm sorry that I can't keep going on about the sights, but I'm short of time, and it would be just more of what I've already rambled on about. Photographs will come later. Just one last thing. I still haven't decided if the strneous cycling across the hilly terrain was worth the sights yet. Although I wasn't looking around much at the end. Fortunate then that we made it back before dark =)

2008-12-13T05:59:00.005+08:00

Right, sorry about that post cut off halfway yesterday. Fell asleep lying on the bed. Brother was watching Wanted (which, coincidentally enough, a review of can be found in the archives of this blog)

This journey; making me feel like I've been cursed. Woke up at 4am to catch the bus to Stanstead airport. Cycled to the bus stop, and the bus comes 15 minutes after it's scheduled time. No problem.

Stanstead airport: Deja Vu extraordinaire.

The gate opens for boarding 20 minutes late. Reason? Waiting for cabin crew to be available from the previous flight they were working on. Still no worries. Get on the plane. Sit around for an interminable wait. Again, still not a problem. Finally taxi to the runway. Pilot decides it's a great time to notice a problem with the weather radar. Taxi back to the gate. In short, half the day spent inside a cramped Boeing 737 squeezed into a 3,3 configuration. (I kid you not. 4 hours might as well be half the day when the airport is smothered in fog in winter, when the sun sets at four in the afternoon). We arrive at Shannon airport ridiculously late, in light rain.

(Well, a four hour delay is an improvement from the six hour delay on SIA. Percentage wise, it doesn't fare that well, with a 50% (of journey time) delay compared to a 250% one. And service wise, well, let's not go there shall we? Just leave it that I'm glad we brought some snacks on the plane, and how I now know the devious methods in which budget airlines like RyanAir make turn a profit [selling food to starving passengers they've imprisoned for hours; fortunate then that my brother's principles of thrift(?) are stronger then the combined strength of our hunger])

Right, back to Shannon airport and the light rain. The kind of light rain that doesn't stay for long. Oh, the rain part stays, the light part tends to vanish. And come back. It kind of takes turns working shifts with the heavy. Well, at least it's the first day in the whole holiday it's rained. And just when my shoes decided to start doing the worn-out-leather-at-the-front-so-that-water-goes-in-really-easily thing.

Catching the bus from Shannon airport to Ennis two seconds after clearing immigration did us the most kind favour of not having to spend a moment longer in the warm, sheltered, and dry airport, letting us get into a warm, sheltered, and dry bus taking us to a colder-but-not-as-cold-as-London, open, and wet town (Ennis, apparently the largest urban area in the county). So, with the rain providing a constant cadence (as well as fun games involving raindrops, puddles, old shoes and wet socks), we wandered single-lane-roads Ennis, popping into various shops selling assorted paraphernalia (Sports clothing, books, sweets, chocolate, you get the idea I hope) Okay, perhaps it wasn't as bad as I made it out to be (wasn't that cold after all); the shops were pretty nice, and Ireland is full of friendly people. The Clare County Museum was interesting too. But would still have been much more preferable without the rain, ya? At least the four hour delay saved us from enduring the rain for another 4 hours.

Right O! On to even more travel nightmares. How about an hour delay on the bus meant to take us to Lisdoonvarana (where we're staying the night) at 6:20? Please try and remember that it's already dark by six. And getting colder. And that Lisdoonvarna is the kind of place where the shops close at 5. So, uncomfortably damp shoes/socks and an hour bus journey later, we get to Lisdoonvarna sometime past eight, and check into the (really posh) SleepZone hostel. (Note, my brother now thinks I'm a jinx on all transport (bicycles aside, so far). But really, what were the odds of all those delays, especially the aircraft ones? (Seriously, an antenna? Never fly RyanAir again))

Now, bear with me a bit, and let me tell you about this hostel we're boarding at for a couple of nights. Converted from a former hotel, it is outrageously spanking posh. And the receptionist is really nice. There's a dining room, a bar, a drawing room, and huge, very warm looking beds. And best of all, it's almost empty, giving a quaint, peaceful feel. plus the internet access with which I'm posting this. And it's ten euros a night per person. Which is less than the rent my brother is paying for his room in London

So, after checking in, we make our way to the only place in town that sells food after dark. Chinese restaurant. (So, only the Chinese care to work?) Eat in prices are 40% higher than takeaway, so you know the obvious choice, no? Although I do pity the owner's daughter. They're most likely the only Asians in the whole town, so let's hope 800 years under the English have mellowed the Irish some, yes?

Dinner was 8 euro spring onion beef, 7.50 euro General Tsao's chicken, and two of the four oranges we bought in Ennis earlier. And now, I'm sitting here typing this post for you to read. Here's hoping it makes up for the dropping to the bed like a pacific island stone head in the middle of a blog post yesterday, eh?

2008-12-12T12:05:00.002+08:00

Will probably not be posting the next few days. Due to, you know, being in Ireland and all that. Unless the hostels have free computers and internet connections

2008-12-12T03:22:00.003+08:00

Right, day two in the capital city of the land of lousy food and bad weather. Short update tonight (not like anyone will read it), because I'm sleepy. Why? Because I didn't get enough sleep, duh.

Heh, so, unnecessary and bad humour aside, I didn't really do much today. Oh, hold on, I did. British Museum. Cycled there, my brother went to school. Wandered around the British Museum for couple of hours. 'Twas fun. The Museum is the size of (insert something large enough for your imagination) and, being so incredibly comprehensive, houses everything from history of (this) to history of (that). But in all honesty, it is impressive, and most enjoyable. I walked through the rooms with Greek/Roman artefacts, European history curios, Enlightenment collections, plus I can't remember ~~what else~~ well you get the drift. Well, the Enlightenment collection in the British Museum is rather impressive, considering that the Royal Academy and its members spent a rather large sum of money and time during the Enlightenment, yes?

We had lunch at a

2008-12-11T17:48:00.003+08:00

Escapades in London, vol. 1.

(late update I'm such a bad boy)

Following a long night of freezing my ass off and not sleeping, the first thing I do in London after breakfast is to go grocery shopping with my brother. Who buys reduced to clear (read, nearly expired and thus cheaper) goods. At least it's reduced to clear frozen/preserved/instant food products and not fresh produce.

Cycling to the supermarket makes two things abundantly clear. One, cycling contributes to wind chill and freezing your face into an icy monolith to stand testament to the ages. Two, I'm horribly out of shape. (Read, fat)

Oh, and the Ben and Jerry's at Sainsbury's was at half price. £1.98 per pint. Score! So instead of getting any fitter on a cycling holiday, I'm going to get even fatter.

Right, so following that, my brother goes to play frisbee in the afternoon. I wander around Regent park, and Camden high street (and the street market), window-shopping. And it turns out, I'm really bad at warding off touting Indian shopkeepers or at negotiating. (Note to self: Go back and get that fedora)

At night, we cycle to one Clarence Ding's (another of my brother's friends) ~~house~~ ridiculously opulent studio apartment that rents in excess of £200 a week. In short, the evening comprised too much good food, friendly people, warding of jet-lag induced drowsiness, failing, having a generally fun time with strangers somewhat older than me, and cycling back at half past one in the morning.

Right, for the sake of continuity, this post ends here. Today's activities will be in the next post

2008-12-10T16:28:00.003+08:00

"Not the kind of journey you want to begin with a six hour delay"

Well, what kind of trip do you want to begin with a six hour delay dear Mr. Portly Londoner? Stupid comments aside, the 6 hour delay at terminal 3 wasn't terminally bad. So I get to the airport at 10am, check in, go and lounge around in the departure hall for a couple of hours and eat half price waffles at Gelare.

The following is an exchange following bordering the first plane, while waiting for takeoff:
Stewardess: Excuse me sir, can I get you a drink?
Me: Bailey's please
Stewardess: Hold on please

-5 minutes later-

Stewardess: Hands me Bailey's, on the rocks

The following occurred on the second plane, with a different crew:
Stewardess: Excuse me sir, can I get you a drink?
Me: Bailey's please
Stewardess: You know we only serve alcohol to those above 18 right? How old are you sir?
Me: mumblemumblemumble 18?
Stewardess: (gets me the drink)

So, I'm flying as an unaccompanied minor, and they've arranged transport to make up for the delay. So I talk to the cabin crew and they tell me everything is settled and I just need to go to the ground staff at Heathrow.

-8 hours later-

Stewardess: Excuse me sir, how old are you this year? Can I see your passport please?
Me: 16. (hands passport over)
Stewardess: You know, we're only allowed to serve alcohol to those above 18? Earlier you requested for Bailey's, yes?
Me: (Nuts.) Keeps quiet
Stewardess: You only had one, yes? How are you feeling?
Me: (Nuts. I should have sat at the aisle with the younger/less-experienced-looking stewardess.)

Moral of the story? If you're going to get alcohol from SIA, don't ask the cabin crew who look 10 years older than the rest.

So, 6 hour delays, 20 dollars compensation for lunch at the departure hall, plane changes, FUBAR-ed attempts to procure alcoholic drinks from SIA staff, old British ladies who take up spare seats that could be used to lie down on, midnight car trips through absurdly narrow and confusing London streets aside, it was an uneventful trip.

So I reach my brother's place at 2 in the morning, and promptly fail to sleep 6 hours. Instead, I wind my body clock to it's own peculiar rhythm (For which I'll suffer tonight), and freeze my ass off. But the night is coldest before the dawn, and now it's warm, warm, warm daytime (I can't believe I just said that.)

Anyway, out I go soon, and in a couple of days I'll leave the land of bad weather and lousy food for the land of where Bailey's original Irish cream (should) be plentiful.

2008-12-08T01:35:00.000+08:00

So, are posts greater than 70 words even read?

2008-12-07T23:34:00.005+08:00

I've been meaning to move to Wordpress or Livejournal so that people can subscribe to RSS feeds. Too bad I'm a lazy bum and it's late, so you'll just have to deal until I start travelblogging from London (as if.)

Today, being Sunday, and two sleep periods after camp, was—we'll get back to that in a moment.

The last few months of camp planning and the actual YM camp itself took rather a lot out of me, I'm sad to say. And, right now, I'm feeling a little tired, drained, out of it, and not like blogging (and totally like continuing with this stream of consciousness.) But, I persevere.

As mentioned, the last few months of headaches and saigang—, sorry, camp planning weren't all that fun. But, and perhaps, many will find this not too unfamiliar, "what to do?" AnywayAnyhow, it's done and over, camp afterglow's not my responsibility, so now I'm only responsible for what goes between God and myself.

And for those of you interested, YM camp at Bethel went fantastically. Rather much better than expected, and , trite as it may seem, beyond (anyone's) wildest dreams. Besides the ruined grass, rained-on programmes, cancelled activities, injuries, and missing logistical needs. Other than that, 'twas swell. But in all seriousness, camp exceeded my expectations. Seeing as crashing and burning isn't a really high bar, it mightn't seem like much of an accomplishment, but, what with all the expectations of devastating failure, what transpired, and what we managed to pull off really is/was God's providence (Aside: I can't stand my writing style; "be" derivatives, stunted vocabulary, clunky phrasing, and overall insipid style do not for good writing make.)

So it turns out, usual allnighter hijinks show a correlation with reduced concentration, drowsiness, lethargy, and greater affinity for 7 hour naps interrupted only by phone calls to remind one of band practice 10km away and 15 minutes after it's started. Said naps also tend to increase likelihood of staying up till really late, before waking early to take a bus to church. (aside: Human by The Killers is awesome; MTV Chart Attack at 1am while blogging)

And then, there was ~~one~~ today. Under pressure from various individuals in church, Weiqi, Penny, Yixun, Sam, and myself found ourselves at Vivocity after church. No Wild Child/Bolt, but there was BK, (over Carl's Jr and Subway), shopping, bumping into Fanching, more (window) shopping, and inexplicable walking around in Toys R' Us. Great fun indeed. Leaving for a great aunt(whose house I visit once a year during Chinese New Year where half the people present are strangers)'s funeral wake following her sudden death on Wednesday night unfortunately denied yours truly of Ben & Jerry's and lazing on rooftop carpet grass.

So, convoluted sentences aside, what about that wake eh? Great aunt, (whom I barely knew) wasn't a Christian, so there were (Bhuddist? Taoist?) rites and all that, but, for some reason I barely care. So, is it that I don't believe that a soul was just lost from heaven, or that I don't care enough that someone's lost, or I don't care enough for that person? (Insert self-doubt and self-loathing[?])

It's been a long week, and it's been an even longer post. Flying off on tuesday on an A380 (leaving on a jetplane...) to the land of lousy food, bad weather, and general awesomeness in the history and culture of the only language I speak. Things to talk about (I'll need people to talk to), things to do, aeroplanes to get on to, luggage to pack... lalala, I wanna go out tomorrow (today?) before flying off on tuesday. and then, travelblogging!

2008-12-02T23:35:00.002+08:00

YM camp is in 12 hours 36 minutes and 21 seconds. Most pleasantly, prayer meeting was a couple of hours ago. And it was, I am unashamed to admit, a long time since I've even been that close to God. For the first time in a considerable number of weeks I found myself approaching God in humility, realising again just how wretched I can be sometimes, and I came away with His promise. His promise that he heals, that he has lifted the burden of sin that no one else can bear, his assurance of salvation because of His grace, mercy, and love. I left with an expectation of more to come, with a greater freedom in my heart to worship Him. And so, I'll worship my God, who takes away all sin, all fear, all doubt, all weakness, and all darkness.

Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me

Open up my eyes again to see what a relationship with a God who loves is worth

2008-11-29T20:19:00.002+08:00

Augh, I can't believe I stayed up (too late) last night before today's YM event to write a critique and comparison of Twilight and The Princess Bride. And I have quotes too! Most unfortunately, the realisation struck too late that I haven't actually read Twilight.

"There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C. ... (before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy...Well, this one left them all behind."

Solution: Get someone to lend me a copy.

ALSO, ym at botanic gardens was tiring, yet satisfying. Camp ahoy!

2008-11-24T14:10:00.002+08:00

Augh, haven't been blogging because of YM camp preparations. Or, maybe because I've been wasting away at home during the holidays. Anyhow, I remember 4F supposing to be having party-time some once a week. Still need more people to volunteer... *(goes to yahoo! group)

aaannd... back. Bored-ish.

afterthought: an image google of my name throws up Lincoln's bog. Many times. Thanks Mark.

2008-11-07T23:30:00.004+08:00

Best bedtime story ever

<3 The Princess Bride

2008-11-04T19:00:00.003+08:00

Sunlight filtered through shimmering curtains of rain
Not worth even the hope of a never-seen rainbow
If you're ploughing through that thick, wet, and vile stuff
Some would call dare call air.

(But who worries about weather when his stomach's twisting itself
into knots like a Chinese puzzle)

I really shouldn't bother worrying about Chinese Os. Tomorrow can worry about itself, no?

Anyhow, last day of (secondary) school was, anticlimatic. Breakfast party + afternoon party in broken-into classrooms aren't too bad though. 4♥F
(Still procrastinating uploading of photos)

2008-11-03T20:05:00.003+08:00

Right, it's officially the last week of secondary school, (not RI, but that's for another day). Today was spent on inter-class challenge (hearts), photo-taking (observing our unique fashion sense), class cleanup (hijacking school speakers + more hearts) lunch (pastamania) and Chinese revision (Chinese revision).

~photos~

~more on facebook~

2008-11-02T14:16:00.000+08:00

Vancouver or London?
Skiing or .... London?

2008-10-25T21:40:00.003+08:00

How is it that just one simple smile on your face glimpsed from afar can make me feel so warm inside?

2008-10-25T21:37:00.001+08:00

20/20 Hindsight. That previous post looks rather silly now doesn't it? Or like it was written while high on coffee and chocolate.

2008-10-23T20:54:00.008+08:00

Remember, remember. the fifth of November
~~Gunpowder, treason, and plot~~

Chinese "O" level oh naaaice one JieXiong
Double entrende haha, I'm high from not being stuck at home but going out for the first time in three days, first to school to waste time in a briefing on MotherTongue in RI(JC), and then to the wrong bus stop on the way to Yifan's house, Thomsan Plaza, a LAN shop, back to Thomson for sushi buffet and to Yifan's place for tennis, roller-blading, swimming and now finally back home.

No la, I'm just high because I reverse causality so my typing with sparse punctuation and fewer sentences doesn't indicate my being high but rather causes me to be high.

2008-10-18T20:35:00.001+08:00

This is just disturbing.

2008-10-17T20:39:00.004+08:00

Max Payne.

Who wants to watch?

2008-10-13T17:59:00.003+08:00

OMG. Today's xkcd is AWE-FREAKING-SOME.

No, it's not because I happen to use uTorrent alot.

Okay, fine, it is.

2008-10-13T17:50:00.001+08:00

Amen to that Haoqin. Unfortunately, right now, I need to mug for exams so that I can graduate from RI (secondary section) to RI (junior college section).

Augh

2008-10-03T22:08:00.000+08:00

I really need some help. God help me.

Lousy, old, wireless router

2008-09-27T21:20:00.001+08:00

So, where do I purchase a 10m LAN cable?

2008-09-18T19:14:00.001+08:00

I'm sorry Haoqin. School library is fail, but for anyone who hasn't heard yet we're more fail for getting owned for using Haoqin's laptop for coughentertainmentcough purposes in the library

Rickrollin'

2008-09-14T00:48:00.002+08:00

http://antispore.com

For those of you not yet in the know, Spore is the latest game by EA and Will Wright, and rightly awesome. (It's a sandbox game that allows the player to create and guide life). For those of you who cannot pick up subtle hints, the above link leads to a site that ends with a rickroll in order to illustrate its satirical nature. It is also:

"“Best spoof site I’ve ever seen; [it's] successfully proved atheists are bigger whiners and every bit as petty, venal, abusive, aggressive, malicious and generally unpleasant and enormously fucking stupid as the God squad. And [it's] proved it in such a short time.”"

This is why the inter-webs exists.

2008-09-09T19:42:00.002+08:00

Heh, blog is dying/dead/dead-and-risen/undead. Anyhow, RInspire is out, (two months late) hurrah! Spending most of the hols (okay, all) not-syudying is scary, seeing everyone else around me mugging now that yerm 4 has begun. Wow, it's the first time I seem to care/worry. Ack.

2008-08-28T01:27:00.002+08:00

Jing Xian is still doing English portfolio. He would have most likely finished 1.5 hours ago if he wasn't the way he is. Travis plays in the background.

2008-08-27T21:32:00.002+08:00

Running uTorrent in the background to completely mess up his browser is a highly effective method to stop Jing Xian from Stumbeupon-ing, reading webcomics, or surfing the internet when he's supposed to be doing overdue English portfolio assignments. It is not as effective at stopping him from blogging.

2008-08-21T17:07:00.002+08:00

Did not study for Biology. Probably shouldn't do that again. Probably shouldn't read webcomics and distracting securing of the internet connection the day before a test too. But then, why am I blogging about tests?

For anybody who reads this blog, and for who's interested as well, RInspire should be out in two to three weeks time. And the next major editing period will be during the EOY time. Get ready for a really sloppy third issue RI boys xD

2008-08-14T20:00:00.002+08:00

Wheeeeee, finally visited the museum. Got scammed by altered contest rules, but it (the renovated-two-years-ago-but-still-unvisited(by me) museum) was interesting. Wonder why arts venues such as the museums aren't free, in Singapore or elsewhere though. Government funded after all right?

Alright, anyway, English oral defense (which I likely won't do tonight anyway). Thanks Lincoln and Hao Qin!

2008-08-12T14:24:00.002+08:00

Limewater reacts with oxygen to form a white precipitate. Dang.

This is 4F

2008-08-08T17:34:00.004+08:00

sick

2008-08-03T16:33:00.004+08:00

like a sick dog.

2008-07-27T21:00:00.000+08:00

Math CCT tomorrow, haven't revised at all.

Thank God for Youth Sunday and how it went =)

Singapore Night Festival

2008-07-24T16:09:00.002+08:00

Who wants to wander around town late into Friday night and luxuriate in an extravaganza of theatre, music, dance and visual arts at the heart of Singapore’s arts and heritage district?

http://www.singaporesights.com/art/art/night-festival

2008-07-23T00:20:00.002+08:00

Clerical errors and communication failures

turns out I'm spending a night at the boarding house.

Warm welcomes to all the visiting student from Nguyen Tri Phuong School of Hue, Vietnam. Today, I gained an insight; a most, invaluable, one. I learn and experience, and I know, just a little more in my heart than my head, just how privileged I am, and how I should value it. I understand, just that bit more, how earnestly others desire what I take for granted, what chances I'm presented and how I blithely and blindly I waste them.

There are many things that we are told and we repeat, many others our lips believe and our hearts do not know; a man learns most through what he has experienced, and what he has done. When a truth is revealed, when you see from another's perspective, it can affect you profoundly, and, if we were so lucky, it'll effect a change.

2008-07-21T19:02:00.001+08:00

Vietnamese visitors + Youth Sunday + Sec 4 CIP

Epic champion win.

2008-07-20T20:09:00.002+08:00

'Tis the end of the ten day "holiday" and I've failed to accomplish any of the pressing tasks. Instead, I visited a museum for the first time in ages, and learnt what a troglodyte I am. Was only there because it was free admission and open late during the Singapore night festival. More events going on next weekend (Friday and Saturday), and the museums are open till late too, so, anybody game for wandering around town?

Gogo filler post

2008-07-11T22:39:00.002+08:00

Been meaning to review A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. But being the lazy bum I am, it's been two weeks since I read it and it's overdue now. Augh.

Edit: Library overdue.

Film Review: Wanted

2008-07-03T21:41:00.007+08:00

A series of beautiful threads woven into a patchwork fabric. Wanted in ten words
Warning: Spoilers below

This, is one of the best shots from Wanted. This, and the car chase with the red dodge viper make for some scant consolation for the rest of the movie; unfortunately, both are over before the halfway mark.

Consider the premise: Master assassins slugging it out, with the added twist (pardon the pun) of curvable bullets with effective ranges measured in miles. A producer might not be able to milk much of a plot out of that, but a high octane blood-pumping action flick should be the worst that could be done.

Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy) is Tessimond's man in the bowler hat; a nobody trudging through life unnoticed. He's broke, and his girlfriend is cheating on him with his best friend. He suffers from anxiety attacks and has prescription medication. One night, he finds himself in a shootout, learns of his heritage, and soon becomes a full-fledged member of the Fraternity; an organisation of assassins that carry out kills based on a secret code weaved into cloth by a "loom of fate". Sloan (Morgan Freeman) is the only member allowed to interpret the weavings. Gibson soon receives his orders; Cross (Thomas Kretschmann) killed his father, and is picking off the rest of the Fraternity and it's up to Gibson to stop him.

The rising action seemed so full of promise; our protagonist is transformed by shootout, car chase, newfound ability,and massive inheritance, from weakling to a type-A personality. And here's the first major botch. The filmmakers attempt to portray Gibson as a rounder character, and end up frustrating the audience. Through his rigourous training, we see Gibson tottering back towards despair and his old life; he's eventually helped along by trite sayings from Sloan the father figure.

The explanation for the moral dilemma of assassination was disjointed, and encapsulated in the banal saying "kill one, save a thousand". The training scenes were well done if one considers only the visual treat and sensual stimulation; otherwise, they seem like a gem out of place, with insufficient attention awarded them.

Gibson then seeks out Cross. He, and his mentor/partner Fox (Angelina Jolie), encounter Cross on board a train, and cause a derailment down into a ravine. Gibson learns that Cross is his real father (shocker! Can't they remember Star Wars used it for the final time in all eternity), and that the Fraternity has deceived him. Fox attempts to carry out her orders to kill Gibson, but he manages to escape.

Here we see the I-have-a-mission-and-now-it's-done-but-I-learn-that-the-real-enemy-is-who-I've-been-working-for switcheroo that's become far too commonplace of late. By this point, the viewers realise that there's been either too little or too much talking. The filmmakers should have either invested more time in coherence (pun unintended) to connect story elements clearly and concisely, or should have made a mind-numbing action flick. The result instead was a confusing mishmash of cool scenes and not-so-cool scenes, with poor characterisation or plot clarity.

The film climaxes with Gibson going back to take on the Fraternity, with his father's (Cross) hidden arsenal. He faces the elite assassins and Sloan eventually, but is disarmed. Desperate, he reveals to the rest of the assassins Cross' revelation: Sloan had seen his name listed for termination by the loom, and instead of facing death began to change the outputs of the loom. He manipulated it and the assassins for his personal benefit by hiring them out as contract killers, and tried to eliminate Cross when he was discovered. However, Sloan counters with his own secret: The names of all the assassins had already come up; if Sloan and the assassins had stuck to the Fraternity's code, they would all be dead. He challenges the assassins to believe him, and take up their place as the shapers of history. Sloan then leaves the room, letting Gibson face the assassins.

Just as the assassins seem ready to betray their purpose and terminate Gibson, Fox curves a bullet around the room, killing all of the assassins, before finally, voluntarily taking the bullet herself. Gibson grabs a weapon and gives chases after Sloan, but fails to find him.

The final scene sees Gibson back in his office job. Sloan sneaks up to him, putting a gun to the back of his head, only to find that it's a decoy. The movie ends as it begins, with Sloan killed by Gibson's (formerly Cross') gun from across the city.

The climax and denouement do have some good combat scenes; the lack is found just before. Perhaps the audience anticipates more screen time of Gibson in torment over running or fighting, and his subsequent detailed preparations. Instead, he plunges almost immediately into an attack on the Fraternity, leaving viewers with no time to think, at the one point in the film where it's required.

One other gripe is the use of profanity in the film. It adds little effect, either in emphasis or humour, but comes out sounding forced instead. The filmmakers might have been trying to add realism, but end up falling flat (most of the time) and adding little comedic value. Profanity reflects a lack of vocabulary, and in this industry it reflects poorly on the filmmakers ability in characterisation.

In short, Wanted is a film that had a good premise but poor execution. It fails to be either a though-provoking psychological thriller or an explosive action flick; the producers couldn't decide on a balance between action and talk, and ended up with a disjointed, if not confusing, piece, albeit with some flashes of brilliance. 2.5 stars, see it if you want to watch a film and there's nothing else showing.

2008-06-30T18:58:00.005+08:00

Maybe I've been the problem,
maybe I'm the one to blame
But even when I turn it off and blame myself,
the outcome feels the same

I've been thinkin maybe I've been partly cloudy,
maybe I'm the chance of rain
Maybe I'm overcast,
and maybe all my lucks washed down the drain

But when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars

I see someone else
When I look at the stars,the stars,
I feel like myself

2008-06-28T10:53:00.005+08:00

There is a girl. A girl I barely know. She is, a friend's friend (acquaintance?) whom I do not know; merely connected in our anonymous internet age. Certainly, she does not recognise my existence. Certainly.

She is a product of our west-pining eastern culture. She is the postmodern daughter and she is defiant; she is new, she is different, she is uniquely her own.

Her struggles are not my own, her troubles are hers alone. They are not her parents', but symptoms of her generations'.

She's no mere experiment, she's her own teenage creation. She sits alone with the other ones.
Her friends are her passions, her like-minded fellows.
She is
not a loner, oddball, outcast, misfit,
nor a girl
but a
person.

At that,
a strangely attractive person.

Was going to sleep last night when this, occured. Got up and scribbled in my notebook in the almost dark. Let's discuss "Do you consider is pretentious to dissect your own work?"

2008-06-27T22:41:00.001+08:00

The internet age is upon us, and I am afraid.

2008-06-25T20:50:00.000+08:00

* is reading A Clockwork Orange.
* is doing social studies social documentary.
* is adapting to school term restarting.
* is failing to revive a dead blog.

2008-06-01T17:59:00.004+08:00

15+1=16
21-5=16
4x4=16
24÷1½=16

Jing Xian is sixteen!
Jing Xian went for Alvin Choy's birthday party yesterday;
Jing Xian is hosting a party tomorrow,
Jing Xian is going for dinner-
Jing Xian refers to himself in the third person.

2008-05-25T17:32:00.002+08:00

This post is late.

But, no matter.
Holidays are here. Founder's day was yesterday. Founder's day was a waste of time. Congratulations to all the achivements of RI boys in the past 12 months, and yay for the new campus. Big Whoop. Holidays are shaping up to be "what holidays?", but, we'll see. Clarence, what did you want me to blog about?

2008-05-13T19:54:00.002+08:00

Sweet, sweet, sleep.
Leaves the bitter aftertaste of
Waking to the world

2008-05-12T23:26:00.002+08:00

Argh, sian.

*Don't notice how RI boys advertise their homework lists on msn.

Sleep.
Oblivion.
Momentary. Oblivion.
I'll face it all
Tomorrow.
One more day
Closer.
Sleep.

2008-05-05T20:48:00.003+08:00

Why quotes require context, lesson one:

"Their (Bangla's) lives aren't worth anything."

2008-04-30T16:06:00.003+08:00

Yeah Justin, RInspire ftw =) Although there's something else that we missed out during our proofing, not counting the school's mistake with the Raffles Progamme haha. Anyway, for those of you who're scratching your head, first issue of the official, school-sanctioned, magazine is out, and judging by the relative lack of "high quality paper airplanes" in classrooms, we can take it to be a good reception. Anyhow, it's time for the next issue to live up to expectations we're setting, and the 185th anniversary hype. And for me to do and email the English portfolio assignment due today. Lalala. Lack of paragraphs for the win =.="

2008-04-21T22:18:00.005+08:00

Fears

Today, I wanted to die with you
but I didn't, because I was fearful.

Yesterday, I wanted to comfort you
but I didn't, because I was ineloquent; tis' true.

The day before, I wanted to sob with you
but I didn't, because I was unconfident; tis' true.

Last week, I wanted to fill your need
but I didn't, because I was inadequate; tis' true.

Last month, I wanted to want you
but I didn't, because my own heart it would break; tis' true.

Last year, I wanted to know you
but I didn't, because I dared not peirce the walls.

On the third, I wanted to see you
On the second, I wanted to hear you
On the first, I wanted to touch you
And
In the beginning
I wanted to live with you;
Yesterday I was afraid, today
I live with you.

2008-04-19T12:41:00.002+08:00

If today was the worst day of your life, cheer up; Life can only get better.
And if you think it's all going to go downhill, cheer up; Today can't the worst can it?

2008-04-18T23:38:00.005+08:00

A Professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the Professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The Professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous 'Yes.'

The Professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

'Now,' said the Professor, as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life

The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else - the small stuff.'

'If you put the sand into the jar first', he continued, 'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.'

When he had finished, there was a profound silence. Then one of the students raised her hand and with a puzzled expression, inquired what the beer represented.

The Professor smiled. 'I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers.'

So. What beer? What will space always be made for, no matter what? And, not what kind of golf balls, but, exactly what golf balls and their priority?

.

2008-04-09T16:54:00.001+08:00

Woah, didn't know Elias linked me on his blog. And only recently learnt he had a blog. Anyway, link'd. haha

2008-04-06T18:41:00.003+08:00

Heh heh heh, opened the post composing window and suddenly realised that I have to prepare for social studies UNSC debate tomorrow. Haha, nevermind. I'll blog out of character first. Then hopefully go and do work.

This morning feeling super down, thinking about the stuff I'm planning for and doing in church and also considering yesterday's YM trip to Sentosa. And about how I may not be going about things in a "right" manner. And the interminable distress of living in a world populated by people; people who change, people with their quirks, people with their unexpectedness, their ephemeral moments of closeness which vanish into thin smoke, as quickly as the warmth of a fire dies.

So, over the course of the morning God speaks. Dosen't God tend to speak especially when we're feeling so far away, so useless and wretched and unworthy, and He tells us that no matter how much we screw up, no matter how unhappy or dissastisfied we are, He has a plan for us, and that He loves and cares about us? Like, how when feeling so distant and preoccupied with all the other things, he draws us back into simple worship and adoration, into filling ourselves with Him and remembering that nothing else compares. Yeah, He does that.

2008-04-02T10:08:00.002+08:00

So I end up blogging approximately once a week. Life as a Singaporean student is, according to a certain FT, "nowhere near as stressful as we purport it to be compared to that of students from certain other countries competing for places in top schools". As it is, I don't seek to make cross-cultural comparisons with little consideration for differing social pressures that shape character and drive, but rather I choose to evaluate the state which I personally inhabit via my own criteria of experience and emotional response.
Aka, I don't care how students in other countries have it, I deal with my Uniquely Singaporean stresses in my way.

So, I end up blogging with a thought in my head, and it blossoms into a rant. Anyhow, keeping busy isn't too bad, provided it's a pursuit of healthy purposes and endeavour of an honourable nature. To-do-list: Shooting, level CiP organisation committee, homework, Ycomm, "Disciple" Biblestudy, YM-camp. Well, not too bad I suppose. But now, I consider the selfishness of "certain" pursuits.

I'm still searching for a passion in my role in the shooting club, rather than a chase for another star on my testimonial. Similiarly, for the on-the-spur sign up for the level CiP thing yesterday. But then again, won't someone argue with me on the tagboard why should I not seek these achivements? Haiz.

And now I remember I was going to blog about how I still have undone e-learning 0_o. And debating if I should do it instead of blogging. Too late then.

2008-03-24T17:06:00.002+08:00

Track and Field finals, Bayley 1st again yeah!

I'm ashamed of myself at what a disloyal Baylean I am. So far, I own two Hullet tees, and a Morrison one, and I wore the Morrison one today :D Anyhow, I'm happy Bayley won, even though I've almost never done anything to gain Bayley points in the house championship over four years.

But, let's move on to the issue of houses in schools and intra-school competition. What's the point in internal school competition? To foster a sense of spirit which we desire the school as a whole to have? To give students outlets for their talents and ability? Then how about competitions without organised groups but with free student participation? Feel free to enter Track and Field competitions in school alone, or form a team for relay events, and let us watch just the best and the dedicated ply their art and win their accolades. Let students express themselves creatively at their own whim; they are free to keep their personal portfolios to dip into for an exhibition piece should an event arise.

So, let us choose to promote fierce student rivalry, competitiveness and subtle bullying in order to win participation points. Let us milk students dry in order to find the few drops of liquid gold in each individual, to erect the pedestal which we elevate ourselves as one body. One body with our common goals and aspirations, our similar tastes and interests, our identical outlooks and achivements.

I'm always so one-sided. Pah.

2008-03-18T20:37:00.002+08:00

Imagine a sunset. Not the red, fiery hues we photograph, the ones that ignite and
illuminate the sky. Nor the all too real ones that we don't notice, and seem to be just a
minute between light and darkness. Imagine a spring sunset. Where the soft tones don't
quite reach the sky, but rather nestle among the hills in the horizon.

And as the sun dips down and about the low hills in the distance, slightly blurry by the
smoky mist in the distance, a bird calls, and you turn back. As you approach the chimney smoke drifting languidly through the still bright air, you nearly stumble across
a child playing with a ball. As he turns to run home at his mother's call, your eyes are
caught by a bird perched on the old tree by the path, the same bird you heard moments ago.

The bird calls again, and then takes off in a flurry of bright feathers and flapping
wings, with no clock to go by but the setting of the sun. You gaze after it into the
distance, before resuming your walk home.

The cool evening air whispers through your hair, not fast enough to be a nuisance, but
not too slow to go unnoticed. You slow your pace to savour it, and the earthy smells
rising from the damp earth. Spying a patch of wild flowers, you bend over on impulse and
pluck a few of the snow-white lilies, letting their fragrance waft through the air. The
evening clamour of children running, mothers cooking and men returning from the fields is
beginning to die down, and you hurry your pace just the slightest to get home before
dark.

As you approach home, the fires and lamps in the neighbours' houses are visible through
their windows; the families are gathered around the tables, eating and chatting. You push
open your own door and call out...

And now, imagine you will never experience nor even see that idyll. The reasons are
uncounted, but they include climate change, globalisation and industrialisation. All of
which have contributed to the growing sense of dissatisfaction we urbanites are subject to
daily. Seeking more, even more, and so much more from all the things we do, we seek to
accomplish things, to chase down that one more qualification, to get that one more job
done, to look that little bit better than someone else, I fear we've neglected our souls.
We won't have the chance to stop and smell those lilies, to go home and have dinner,
because we're too obsessed with our image.

They say that when we're with people, we put on masks. We put on our masks to hide our
weaknesses, to gain that upper hand. When we accomplish something, it's credited to the
mask. Our masks are our power, and as we build them up we sacrifice something inside of
us, we let it devour us a little bit. With out loved ones, with the ones we trust, with
ourselves only, do we dare remove the mask. But more and more, we leave the mask on, until
we become the mask, we give ourselves up and our very existence of being becomes the mask.
Even when we take it off, we remember the desires, and they linger in our minds, they
surface in our hungers. Will anyone tear off their mask and hurl it away? For to do
anything less means nothing at all.

2008-03-15T11:54:00.000+08:00

Two days. We can do so much in 48+ hours. God can do so much. Imagine what He could do with the rest of your life. God provided the great city of Nineveh the chance to repent, and in the same way His grace through Jesus Christ offers us the greatest gift. "For as Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites, so also will the Son of Man be to this generation."(Luke 11:30) We are redeemed by His gracefully provided sacrifice, and are now given the promise of the Holy Spirit

If we can even begin to grasp the great extent of God's grace, how amazing it must be to be filled and overflowing with streams of living water (of the Holy Spirit), do we not proclaim that God and God alone has changed our lives? He has given us love, redemption, assurance, and has promised to all the nations that "whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." So if we enjoy the good gift that our Father gives us, should we not go forth and share this good news!

2008-03-12T21:24:00.003+08:00

You rock. Love. Big hug.

Yes, you, you've pulled me up when
I'm down in the dumps, you
helped me see when I blinded me.
Understood my lamentations,
Ill-mannered dispositions

2008-03-11T12:11:00.004+08:00

Music: Any other World, -Mika

Who tells me to blog now? Haha. Anyway here's some verse I dreamed up off,

A ghost; a fleeting spirit,
Touches all, feels nothing

He comes and goes
whither and whence, no one knows,
and there is none in his world

I should stop thinking, and start living.

Edit:
Sometimes it is more worthwhile to think than live I suppose. I don't even remember very clearly exactly what things I did overthe first holiday weekend+monday, but I know I enjoyed myself, did some things I need to do, and it satisfys me much. So, to avoid documenting my life excessiv- waitaminit, why am I writing this pointless stuff. Anyway, what's the Singapore Flyer view like Lincoln? haha

2008-03-03T16:28:00.002+08:00

Hi Daniel, you claim I haven't blogged recently and come to think of it you're right haha. So erm... well, here you go. Although you probaly succinctly explained why my blog reader count/traffic is so low. But then, do I blog for other people or for myself?

If I blog for myself, then the old arguments of using a private journal versus a public blog where one could inadvertently (or intentionally) publish offensive material. But that's tired to death, and anyway the feel of keys yielding before my soft and quick touches feels more relaxing and satisfying than the scribbled cramped strokes of a ballpoint pen, along with the hassle of a physical book and all that, so let's shy clear of that.

So, if I blog for other people, do I blog on request? More pressingly, should we blog for other people? I know people (coughdanielcough) who obviously don't blog for other people (coughdeadblogcough), but, what is wrong with blogging for other people? Does it encourage a character of subservience or that of living for others. Unless you blog for others so as to benefit/please yourself.

Is blogging for yourself, (or for others so as to increase personal status?), then, a narcissism? Is self-centredness the curse of this age of user-generated content and instant internet fame (and notoriety)? Or perhaps the area of concern lies in hedonistic pleasure itself. In which case, I am guilty as charged. Last five minutes of typing that was right fun innit?

2008-02-21T14:58:00.002+08:00

Haha, hi Lincoln. I am not emo. I will not be emo. I will never be emo. Or at least give me a reason 0_o. Anyway my blog is super dead, guess i haven't found the time or anything to blog about, and I'm super busy this week. Kind of sad how we always say we're busy isn't it? Think about it, youths, adults, all of us with schedules, our excuses are always "I'm busy"

None of us want to be busy, and yet we are. We tie ourselves up with things, things that occupy time, things that kill time. When we have nothing to do we invent something. When we're busy we tell people not to bother us, and when we're not we find something to busy ourselves with.

Is this preoccupation with being engaged something that lies in the grain of our beings, or is is a modern creation? Has man always sought something to do? Surely not. So, let's take time to stop and smell the flowers, to rest and catch a breather, to simply be still, to be captured and enraptured by the sheer magnitude of what is, instead of being devoured by our own desires and goals.

Well, that was my taking time from the tempest of this week; after all, it' good to philosophize and think once in a while'

2008-02-09T20:15:00.000+08:00

Stayed at home all Saturday today, for the first time in, erm, likely at least 3 months. Shawn (Eng) and Samuel (Sim) came over to hang out for DP "hang out time" (omg punny! rofl). Why do I feel like this is so forced? Maybe because I don't like to blog about things I do per se, but rather on more important things. So what's that mean? I feel so "I'm blogging about what I did today!" But anyway, hope other Shawns can join us next time, ya?

Supposed to watch dvds initially but the 3 of us ended up playing Heroes of might and magic III and german bridge/card games for pushups haha. Turns out NYT monthly shoot is postponed to 17th Feb (Sunday), so you guys could stay longer haha. Shawn, you have an interesting way with words when you're using other people's msn accounts =.^ Anyway, if either of you two are reading this, thanks for the great time, and if anyone else in our group is reading this, hope you can make it the next time =)

As of this computer has been on for nearly 12 hours straight, so I think I'll be going off quickly. Maybe turn off, and come back later. Anyway, random post for the heck of it =)

2008-02-03T18:27:00.000+08:00

Don't be emo.

2008-02-03T18:17:00.000+08:00

Haven't blogged in nearly two weeks, mostly because I've been busy busy busy. Workload for sec 4 isn't much more than sec 3 so far (thank God), but vice-captaincy, RInspire and Ycomm are filling my calender fast. Wonder what JC life will be like.

Strangely enough, I've had a strong urge to go to Safra and just shoot the last few days. Shooting must be addictively good to produce withdrawal sypmtoms haha. Shooting club PT on Mondays means my only free day left is on a day where all the UGs and most other people have CCAs pfffft. Complaining, but still going, so the same goes for any other RI shooter who reads this =)

Circular measure topical assesment on Monday. Hope my maths dosen't absolutely die this year. I need discipline to actually do work after I come home from school haha. For any subject. Argh.

And now about 4F. Does anyone agree with me that Chee Yeow may be a tad unbalanced in saying "I'm quite disappointed that we actually can have screwed-up suggestions for themes like China/Desperate Housewives. If you don't give a damn about the Class Decor and just want to screw around, at least don't do it at the expense of others." No offence, but perhaps, some people thing that "China" is a (if not absolutely good, at least still) viable and acceptable idea for class decorations? Some may say that it's "screwing around" or "not giving a damn". Well, all I can say is that one man's meat is another man's poison. Cliched, but true.

Ramblings

2008-01-22T20:35:00.000+08:00

Clichés inevitably contain a modicum of truth.

But that misses the mark.

I have an insecurity complex that would have President Bush up in arms, and I don't know what to do with it. I somehow manage to persuade myself that I exude an aura of confidence and cool calm while simultaneously convince myself of the falsehood that is the pretense of competence I cower behind. I take a perverse pleasure in mood swings such as this, wallowing in depression, yet believing the next moment that everything is swell. In all likelihood I have a Dr Jekyll/Mr. Hyde-esque complex festering in my skull, which will manifest itself in mental disorder sooner or later. Depressing innit? Still, how do you reconcile fear of inferiority and failure and a compulsive need to excel with confidence? I nurse my self-deprecating persona and manage to delude myself of invincibilty. Not only insecurity but inferiority as well.

Ability, confidence, competence and chutzpah. Pfft. What then about that tinge of self-doubt that questions one's very own humanity? Why else then the apprehension at approaching the subject of one's own emotional capacity? Dread of discovering that where other people have hearts there is only a dark void, a void that effaces emotion, that inexorably draws emotion and renders it inert, finally residing in the husk of a man, a mere automaton that presents a poor rendition of emotion, experiencing none itself; or perhaps an android with a singular fervour, to learn how to feel like man does.

So, why does a souless and emotionless creature fear failure and incompetence? How does the man who runs the rat race seeing the tail of the leader say he dosen't care; that his feelings are a fabrication? It happens. The rat tries his best to catch up, but is uneasy as he sees the fork in the road. Whichever path he takes, he forgoes the other; as Frost said: "I have taken the road less travelled, and it has made all the difference".The rat wants both and takes neither; he ponders his life and watches in regret and dismay as the competition outstrips him on either side.

Why do I hurt myself so, why do I chase the dreams that are not mine?
Why do I fret that others climb above me, when below lies the expanse of the earth?
Why do I fear that I will fall, when I have made it thus far?
Listen to your own advice, live life to ~~the~~ your fullest

A double-edged sword, meta-cognition is.

Clichés inevitably contain a modicum of truth.

2008-01-21T19:09:00.000+08:00

Week of death over. Year of death starting. Seeing as how the previous week was all about preparing for/first meeting of the year for stuff that I'll be involved in in the coming year. Although I personally find the expression _____ of death both overused and inappropraite, cliches do often contain a modicum of truth. Rambling now.

First PT session of the year for shooting today. If this keeps up, most of us in the shooting club definately need to buck up our physical fitness. Met Bing Yang/Jon Wah/Rohan at the gym, Biang was supposed to go watch Cloverfield with me but he got persuaded it sucked so we ended up all going home with JW. Now I'm almost aching all over, but feeling good. Need discipline to work out more haha.

Ycomm/youth ministry stuff is weighing rather heavily on me mind, but I know I can and should be relying on God's strength to glorify and serve Him, but there's still some degree of pressure, and God works through people, so, yeah, work. Prayers appreciated.

Started a Livejournal account last night solely for the purpose of reading other people's livejournals. Haha. LJ is so anal-retentive, and it's not like they have an almost-monopoly in the market like Microsoft; look at Steve Jobs, he allows iTunes and iPods to work on PCs, albiet earning him money through the iTunes store, but still. Stupid LJ. Haha.