Goeie oggend, Singapour!!

televised sports is insane here. one of the speakers at the conference (i think was the south african minister) said they screen more fta sports here than many other countries. it's true, i tell you. sports is mega in south africa. in the four days i spent there, i caught Man Utd-Valencia, Chelsea-Everton, Liverpool-Aston Villa, Springboks-Barbarians, a couple of La Liga, Bundesliga, Top 14, Aviva Premiership matches, and even the local Telkom Cup final (Kaizer Chiefs-Orlando Pirates).

angmohs really do 3-hour dinners. no shit. twice i experienced it, and i tell you we strolled through starters, mains, desserts, coffee. with a lot of chatting in-between. dont get me wrong, im not complaining. it's great. they really know how to enjoy life sia.

oh and i love how they'd go "bon appetit" before eating.

one of the most memorable convos i heard:
Alan Harris: Odane Skeen's from Kingston, Jamaica.
Essar Gabriel: Ah... It's crazy down there. That's where they shot Bob Marley.
Alan: Yea.
Essar: No one shoots Bob Marley.
Alan: No one.

and i had the best cream pasta ever in a real italian restaurant there. it was soooo good and so much i couldnt finish it, at just S$14. man, it's serious stuff since it made this blog post.

the night of the gala dinner was wild. we were randomly placed around tables, and me and adam happened to sit with these two local college girls - francesca, a white of italian descent, and fuzzy, an indian who's quite different from the indians in singapore. hours later it was like we'd known each other for really long! joseph parker joined us, so did their friend robin/robyn, and they took us out. fuz drove and we squeezed six into the mini car. no joke considering joseph's a 113kg kiwi boxer. we sped through the pouring rain and beat red lights and at one point joseph was throwing our glass bottles out of the window. crazy shit. the night was spoilt though as the place we wanted to go to was closed. we ended up at a bar.

i wasnt supposed to drink. not when my foot's already swollen. but what's fun without alcohol right. so i committed self-murder by finally relenting and took white wine (straight from the bottle, no joke). then a Springbok, a local shooter. then a John Deere, a local Graveyard-esque cocktail.

oh yea and drinking in public is apparently a crime here in South Africa. cops will pull up and arrest you on the spot. if you don't slip some cash into their pockets.

anyway, the plan was to go to the place the next night, but turned out i was really tired and had stuff to do. i heard the bunch, together with other Young Reporters, Ambassadors and Athletes went to a club, but on hindsight, im glad i gave it a miss. next morning adam told me they got into some misunderstanding. come on, this is South Africa, people carry weapons. they ended up paying more than S$600.

okay that's it for my SA trip. totally no time for checking out the city. didnt braid/dreadlock my hair too.

Goeie oggend, Singapour!

i might be taking too much of SIA. i was sick of the food cos they gave me the same meal i had i think just recently.

Rooibos tea: a traditional South African tea.

they had this and English tea on the flight. i had to choose the latter cos... yes. no wonder i couldn't understand the stewardess.

what's worse on a trip than losing your baggage the first thing you arrive? i had a connecting flight in 90 minutes, but after everyone cleared their baggage i was left with nothing. yes just me. thank god for the extremely lovely airport guy who made many calls and ran everywhere (im limping, you see) to locate my bag.

my first 100rand went to useless ends. i rushed, on a hurting foot, to the transfer. got delayed by so many things as im in unfamiliar territories. so 'helpful' guides are good, right? i was swarmed by a (uniformed) syndicate who directed me to my flight. it's not that difficult really, if i wasnt panicky. so yea when we reached he asked for a fee, and i only had 100rand notes on me. what's worse was i already sensed something wrong and when i ran into the conference's volunteers i tried to get their help (they sensed something too), but the swindler brushed them away.

adam and i made the crazy decision to walk around, and ended up in an apparently blacks-only neighbourhood. they were all staring and it was scary shit. the doctor also advised against streetside food, but the first thing i did here was do just that. wth. too cool lah, cant resist.

we also saw a tranny, and giggled to ourselves. but South Africans dont giggle. when s/he walked by, all the guys started wolf-whistling to the extent it became almost a carnival.

South Africa has one of the highest crime rates in the world. no joke.

everywhere you see young drug peddlers. teens knock angrily on your cabs for money to finance their drug addiction.

there are countless dubious minibuses that want to ferry you somewhere, and they tout blatantly. it seems though that's a preferred transport for the locals. i guess the public transport system here must really suck.

when night falls, you only see street corner gangs and streetwalkers. just stay in the hotel lah.

a bunch of kids (aged 14, 15 max) chased another, who was holding up a wallet like a prized haul. seconds later, knives came out and they started slashing him. whatthefuck.

when one pays peanuts, one gets monkeys

Warning: Possibly Inflammatory Content

"...when one pays peanuts, one gets monkeys. This has been used as justification to increase the ministers’ pay. What they fail to realize is that the same adage applies to all ranks – even the unskilled worker. Pay them peanuts and you get monkeys. (Or are we being classified monkeys already – I wonder?). So, instead of finding ways to help increase the wages of these unskilled Singaporean workers, so that the Singaporean worker can make a serious decision to take up these jobs, they instead choose to allow employers to use peanuts to attract the unskilled workers from abroad.

The ill-treatment cases aside: I think we have too many foreign monkeys in our land already. It is time for this government to make these jobs more attractive, in terms of better wages, so that we do not have to depend on monkeys – especially those from abroad."

gemami, The Online Citizen

Girlfriend: I walked in and the doctor said...

Boyfriend: How old are you?

Girlfriend: ...'how old are you?' EHHH HOW YOU KNOW?!

so sweet. how i miss being in love.

talk to me

empirical proof we're in a (highly) digital age:

there were 10 ppl in the mrt carriage,

5 of them listening to music from players and phones, with at least 3 ipods visible,

1 using netbook,

1 watching mp4,

1 viewing photos,

1 on the phone.

and i noted down all these on my phone. lol.

one day, the human touch would be gone.

signs

i still believe that night i fell ultra sick - yes ultra is the only apt word - with no apparent reason at aloha changi was because it's haunted. but that's for another day.

anyway i experienced the whole nightmare again a few days back. it reminded me how hellish it is and what it means by you'd rather be dead than alive. of course, for a while i thought my room's haunted. i went to bed okay, but got more and more bloated until i could no longer fall asleep. i was basically lying flat there motionless the whole night until, i remember, 656am.

鬼压床 you know?

i developed fever, headache, nausea, diarrhea, and became dizzy when i got up. i threw up everything i had inside me over the next two hours.

best part? i was alone. in every sense of the word.

roomie jianli's at home. hall's near-empty of people from my batch. i don't have a girlfriend anymore. as i trudged to NTU's medical centre later under the blazing sun in cold sweat, pausing for breathers along the way, coupled with momentary blackouts, the big questions came.

are these signs my time in hall is up? at my weakest, there seemed no one i could turn to.

then things went on the up.

i started bumping into people and they were concerned. news also spread. people all over the hall started sending their regards and helping in any way they could. lingqin and jacq especially. they came once with painkillers, then again when i was asleep to soothe me with fever pads. somehow, uncannily, it sure seemed a bigger deal i fall sick now than when i was a freshie, when i had so many friends around.

on another note, i realised i started my hall 4 life in sickness too: anaemia during my own FOC. and i remember the care showered on me by the seniors then. maybe this is the end, and the end is marked by sickness too. more comfortingly i guess, it was marked by the love of ohmers.

anyway it was stomach flu damn it.

Chris Tse's rap-poem, I'm sorry I'm a Christian

grabbed this off terence's Irreligious blog. it was so freaking good i had goosebumps throughout.

thought-provoking repentence and truth, or blatant insult and blasphemy?

you decide. im going for the former.

I am a Christian. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for the way that I come across

So fair and faith friendly and full of myself

Judging your spiritual health by the words that you say

And the way that you dress, and the things that you do

Or maybe just judging you.

I’m sorry for the way that I live my life

So confident of my own beliefs that

I would never even think to think about thinking about yours

I’m sorry for the wars.

Ivory clad Crusaders mounting steeds and drawing swords

With such a spirit that if The Spirit spoke they wouldn’t hear

But you see the sword of The Spirit was not a sword but the Word

And the Word was with God and the Word was God

And they preached this as they marched on the Holy Land

Singing and praying and killing and slaying

And purging and healing and raping and stealing

It’s ironic that they lined their pockets in the name of God

Just like the priests who line their pockets in the name of God

Just like the people that you can’t stand, because they always raise their hand

And spread their faith and hate and judgment in the name of God

I’m sorry that I take God’s name in vain

Or rather I’m sorry that I stain the name of God

Defending my selfish actions as selfless actions pertaining to the will of God

I’m sorry for being intolerant

For trying to talk down to you

For trying to talk over you

For not letting you talk

I’m sorry for not walking the walk

For being a hypocritical critical Christian

Criticising your pagan lifestyle while my lifestyle styles itself

Just like the televangelist’s hair

All slick and sly and slippery

As the silver syllables slide their way into your ear

But see that’s my greatest fear

That the steps I take won’t match the words I speak

So that when I speak all you hear of me

is a weak hypocritical critical Christian

Doing one thing, but saying another

Loving my friend, but hating my brother

It’s a show.

I’m sorry I get drunk on Saturdays

and go to church on Sundays to pray

for my friends who get drunk on Saturdays

And on that note,

I’m sorry for making the church about the pews and the cross

And the walls and the steeple

Because see the building is not the church

The church is the people

I’m sorry that I hate you because you are gay

I’m sorry I condemn you to hell because you are gay

Instead of loving I jump to hatred

Mouth open and tongue preaching

Eyes open but not seeing that you are the same as me

Just a fucking human being

I’m sorry that I only hang out with Christian friends

And we do nice Christian things

Like pot luck dinners and board game nights

While in the night a man beats his girlfriend again

Another homeless man died again

Is this the way that my own crowd has been?

But here I am with the same friends again

But see what I always forget is that Jesus didn’t come

to hang out with the priests and the lords.

No, He hung out with cripples and beggars and whores

Love.

I’m sorry for history

For native tribes wiped out in the name of the church

Lodges burning, stomachs churning and yearning for justice

And mothers screaming and pleading

Pleading for the young ones

As they are dragged away to church schools

Where they were abused

I’m sorry for the way that I refused

To learn your culture

Instead I just came to spread the Gospel

And the plague

I’m sorry that I stand at the front doors of abortion clinics

Screaming at 15-year-old girls as they enter

Instead of waiting at the back door to hug them as they leave

I’m sorry for taking my wars and my faith to your lands

When historically it was on your lands that my faith was born

And in the face of the storm, I realise that

If God is Love and Love is God

Then why are we shooting instead of sharing?

Why are we launching instead of learning?

Why are we warring instead of walking together?

Why are we taking instead of talking together?

Why are we bombing instead of breaking bread together as brothers?

You see I think that God looks down and He’s sad

And from His right hand throne above

Jesus asks where is the Love?

And if it takes will.i.am and Justin Timberlake

Asking that same question for us

To start asking that same question

Then where the fuck are we headed?

So I will take this stage to be my chapel

And this mic my confession booth

And in the presence of God, the few, the proud,

and the blessed I confess, that

I am a Christian. I’m sorry.

Legend.

that's a word i use often on seniors. my seniors. often, but sparingly. because i attach the highest value to the label.

in the space of five weeks, ive been called a CS legend and a Hall 4 legend. as much as i cannot express it, i am deeply honoured.

ive made an impact, but ive also made enemies. sometimes, i really regret these pieces of my university life. then along came the author Adrian Tan, who said during WKWSCI's 2008 convocation:

be hated. every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated. often, one is hated because one is trying to do right by one's own convictions. it is far too easy to gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average.

very wise. that surely exorcised some demons.

a panicky melissa before robin's surprise

thiam peng says: (3:01:58 AM)

got emcee or not haha

baddabbing says: (3:02:08 AM)

lol dun have leh

thiam peng says: (3:02:17 AM)

cham

then u emcee meh

baddabbing says: (3:02:21 AM)

i got no programme line up hahaha

thiam peng says: (3:02:36 AM)

haha how can no programme!

bday partyyy

baddabbing says: (3:02:50 AM)

hahaha cuz the timing so flexible

also i figured got not much time

yall come at 6 plus

he comes at 7 plus

settle down all eat

8 plus can show video

then cut cake alr

then take photo

then bye bye

thiam peng says: (3:03:45 AM)

means he'll hav to go ard entertain everyone

he become e busy one

lol i need to copy this convo down

baddabbing says: (3:04:12 AM)

OIIIIIII bish.

hahahhaa

if not do what

must have game meh

also dunno what game to play

thiam peng says: (3:04:32 AM)

haha no lah

but at least hav rough idea

like speech

baddabbing says: (3:05:23 AM)

AIYA then just make him make speech

then video

then cut cake

eh wrong

is video

then speech

then i surely kena sabo-ed

then cake

then photo

then bye bye

pls, oh mighty teh ping, tell me if i missed anything else out

self-respect

A journalism lecturer on reporting in Singapore, the challenges working with the state, and the meaning of it all:

"In the 9 years I've worked here, the civil service has been solid. They do not leak anything.

"But it is through our little attacks on the system that we gain some self-respect."

Shame on who?

You go to a wet market, and in a tucked-away corner you happen to find the cheapest and best eggs. The pound-for-pound, in other words.

You believe you’ve uncovered gem, assured of quality yet economical eggs for, say, the next couple of months.

The next day, however, the stall owners relocate to the centre of the marketplace, and hike up their prices. All upon your feedback.

Such a move isn’t wrong. But somehow, it doesn’t feel right either.

That’s when the touchy region of ethics is being manoeuvred. Ever so grey, ethics guide the morals and conduct of a people, yet often have no binding effect on their actions. It is a self-policing system.

Transplant the capitalistic egg business to the internship process in Nanyang Technological University (NTU).

Before I enlighten you on the resulting controversy, let me explain how it works.

Students go away for an internship during their enrolment with the university at a company either of their choosing or by allocation. There is a list every year from which they can pick. At the school’s and companies’ discretion, individuals are invited for interviews or sometimes offered spots immediately.

However, there is a special round before all of the abovementioned when students can source for their own companies, for various reasons. It could be they have the relevant contacts, or wish to avoid the imminent cluster, or want to do something specific outside of ‘the list’.

At least two counts of a similar incident have called into question the behaviour of corporations and, by extension, the long-existing flaws of the much-maligned NTU administration.

What if I put in the time and energy to source for a company of my own and for myself, carry through the administrative and logistical procedures, but end up, to my surprise, seeing that company join ‘the list’, which everyone is entitled to, as a result of my efforts?

Note, I’ve not even been accepted nor given priority to a place.

These companies merely acted with their own interests at heart, deciding to submerge themselves in the wider sea of talent, where the best fishermen use the best tackle.

But in opening up their options, they’ve ignored courtesy where it’s due. They were uninformed (or misinformed), and it was those very internship-chasing undergrads who had informed them.

The nature of things in a capitalistic society has left the students with… Nothing. Kaput. GG.

Selfish reasons aside, this also isn’t natural, is it?

But what can be done? The students - the fee-paying clients of the university - are unfortunately in a lose-lose situation.

The system is flawed, and whoever they raise their grievances to, be it the school or the company, they risk incurring the wrath of the latter, putting their job application in jeopardy.

We can ask them to 'do the right thing', but that's certainly too much to expect of these young men and women.

Because NTU cannot control the actions of companies, the least it can do, in my opinion, is to prepare 'the list' early for the students' reference. The students would be able to assess the choices and plan self-sourcing accordingly.

Currently, this list is only finalised just before the application period, with companies still able to move in and out of it at their discretion. Students, on the other hand, will for weeks only have the previous year's list to guide them, which is often an inaccurate one.

NTU has to stop being wishy-washy and stand their ground. After all, if companies genuinely want interns, they should meet deadlines, and if students labour to self-source, they probably deserve the spots more.

The well-known Soviet spy Kim Philby once said, "To betray you must first belong." The ambiguity of this controversy lies in whether those internship organisations in question ever 'belonged' to those students.

There is a fine line between ethical and practical. When a company low-blows undergrads like that, the shame is on who?

The wet market, the egg seller, or my industriousness?

the redefinition of beng

tattoos. piercings. brown hair. skinny jeans.

two barely-18 ah bengs in a train, and

1) they conversed in English

2) they gave their seats up to an old lady

how the world has changed since my days.

i like motion pictures

the film's classic quotes:

一朝天子一朝臣

洪仁就: 棋 不是这么下的 要赢 用不着吃光棋子

左手: 我不像你 我一出道就不是将军 只是个小卒子 用不着光彩

Interview with actress Sherry Tan for Channel 5 drama Fighting Spiders 2

<br /> <a href="http://video.xin.msn.com/watch/video/guess-who-don-t-sue-it-s-sherry-tan-from-fighting-spiders-2/tnysjnzv?fg=sharenoembed" target="_new"title="Guess who? Don’t Sue! It’s Sherry Tan from Fighting Spiders 2!">Video: Guess who? Don’t Sue! It’s Sherry Tan from Fighting Spiders 2!</a>

darling, you were wonderful tonight

i got to know the song 'Wonderful Tonight' when i was really young, in primary school. the cover i heard was done by the now-defunct British RnB group Damage.

i fell in love with it. the lyrics are just amazing.

in later years i found out it was originally by the guitar legend Eric Clapton, whose version is very different, but equally showstopping.

i like to think im a closet romantic and the lyrics, of an evening night out with a date, and how narrative they are, have struck a chord with me since. ive imagined that one day, hopefully, i can perform this song for a girl i like.

this sem, i finally got GV17, the singing module. as we could choose our own songs for the first performance, i racked my brain for days to draw up a songlist. after trying them out, and in different styles (ie minus-1, acapella, accompaniment), i instinctively threw 'Wonderful Tonight' into the mix. as with all things destined, i picked it, deciding on an acoustic, unplugged version.

oh, the romantic.

unlike that longtime childhood dream, where everything should be planned, this just fell into place, which made it even more 'wonderful tonight'. to my surprise, she, who against all odds has returned somewhat to my life, appeared at the showcase, partly to watch me.

i didnt realise. until right when i was gonna start, then it dawned upon me fate has worked the elements for my childhood fantasy to materialise.

but despite the scale of this personal milestone, there was no nerves. just calm, and a quiet sense of joy, exactly like the song.