A Defence of and from Xiaxue

Anonymous writes in comment to my previous post:

"When I saw the pic, instantly I was repulsed. A girl who exposing herself in public because she's "bored" clearly has psychological issues. I mean, is this a normal response to boredom?"

To which I responded:

"Nudity is treated differently in different countries, in different contexts. I personally think what SPG has done is artistic, and displays an aesthetic beauty in the female form. The fact that its -her- female form that she posted is something that I respect even more."

Xiaxue writes a passionate article on why her position is the opposite of mine, perhaps directed at this post, perhaps not. However, I have reason to believe she has at least read some of the commentary, because she writes:

"Nude photos can PASSABLY be called art. But flashing... That's where I draw my line. I think it is crude, tasteless, and not to mention a cheap stab at getting attention."

Let me get some facts straight. There are two photos in issue here. One is the original black-and-white photo that caused the whole Straits Times controversy. The other is the photo Kenny Sia put up. I think there's an injustice done to link or compare the two.

The first can tolerably be called art, depending on your opinion - it certainly is in my opinion. The second is more dicey. I have not commented at all about the act SPG's exposure - an issue I wish to address here.

Xiaxue's next comment:

"Nice try, but not bombastic enough: Why not spread your legs, hold them up tightly behind your ears, and let everyone have a clear look at your genitals? If they want, they also can insert foreign objects inside. And feel free to blog about it!"

Xiaxue, the reverse is also true. Would you like to be punished for removing your veil in front of anyone but your husband? That's an unfortunate reality in several fundamentalist Muslim states. If there is a line drawn somewhere, I'd like to know where it is. Certainly, the heart of the controversy here is WHERE the line is drawn, if indeed there is one drawn at all. I think the variance in attitudes towards the whole incident can be demonstrated by the whole spectrum of views available.

What I've written in my article about Kenny applies equally to you, Xiaxue - I don't necessarily like what you write, or the personal attacks you occassionally mount, but I don't condone people trying to jeer you away. -IF- one has something to say about your posts, say it, and say it civilly - or just ignore it. I will not condone the act of hacking into someone's blog. That's an act of cowardice, slightly below the bombing on someone's house.

There is, however, another aspect to this that I did not take into account, and probably should have. For that I apologise.

I think there's a lot -I- can learn about friendship from three bloggers - minishorts, Xiaxue and Kenny. Whatever your argument or methods for or against the whole incident, you probably did so out of friendship to Kenny. That is something I admire greatly.

Moreso, it takes a certain kind of stubborn courage to write what you write and still not be affected by hatemail, and that is the most honest kind of journalistic integrity there is. It's easy to write dispassionately (as I do) - and still continue writing. The pressure to self-censor isn't as great.

I'm not your friend or Kenny Sia's or Claire Wong's friend - I've never had the opportunity to meet you or them. In so far as my post hurt you or your friendship in any way - I apologise unreservedly. Words cannot be unsaid unfortunately.

I do not have to agree with you. You don't have to agree with me. I ask that you try to understand that I wrote what I wrote because I don't think the commentators in Kenny's post should have expressed their disapproval quite so harshly - a sentiment I am fairly sure you can understand. I'm glad the three of you mended your friendship.

There are always circumstances beyond what we know, and a culture of tolerance in the blogosphere is something I've always advocated and strived for.

Or, perhaps I'm losing it, reading too much into a post I should not have. Please feel free to ignore a small readership blog with a bombastic writing style then.

OMG...They Killed Kenny!

-deep sigh-

Kenny Sia, Malaysia's Number 1 blogger, appears to have fallen on hard times, due to a picture he took of Sarong Party Girl, sans top. He has since taken down said pictures due to some rather strong response from his readers - minishorts in particular.

Update: The post is gone. Kenny has taken the whole post down. In its place he's put up a parody of a parody.

I confess to enjoying some of Kenny's older gags - in particular, the Xiaxue Proposal and the recent parody of Sarong Party Girl's nude photo. Here's the question - what has changed about this new gag that provoked mob-lynching?

Some of the comments I've managed to glean from Kenny's post:

"This post is offensive. Why would a so called decent guy like you think this is funny?

Could you give me ten good reasons why your girl friend would be okay with this? No decent girl out there would think this is okay. I never posted a comment before, and I have enjoyed reading your decent posts in the past. Even the one about your dad made me all teary. But this is utter nonsense."

- by aka

I lost my respect for you Kenny. And I pity your gf. How do you think she feels when she sees that pic? Maybe you're saying that 'hey, it's just in the name of fun', but this is already over the limit. At least respect your gf by not posting up a pic of you and another girl - half naked - for the world to see.

Totally tasteless.

- by bleh

It seems to come down to (i) Kenny has a girlfriend (ii) Kenny should not be posing half-nude with Sarong Party Girl and (iii) Kenny should not have post these pictures. My question here is - what is the limit? Did Kenny step over some invisible line of morality?

Let me come right out and say it - I can't find it in me to condemn either of them, or both of them collectively.

To the facts - from what I gathered, I doubt Kenny anticipated SPG's easy acquiesance to his request to disrobe. At MOST Kenny was culpable for making a request he did not anticipate will be followed through, supported by his version of events that he didn't even realise that SPG had disrobed. Yes, I know this is his version of events - I was not there, but I am willing to take Kenny's version at face value given the glowing reports minishorts wrote of Kenny's character. Since the bulk of the comments seem centered around his perceived lack of faith with his girlfriend, my question here is - Is Kenny culpable for something that he did not intend?

Hence, it comes down to Kenny's decision to post the photo on his blog and make the breasts jiggle - about the only intentional act he may be culpable for. There was a perceived "tastelessness" to the post. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't, but this doesn't seem to be the real issue, does it? Was the post -in isolation- tasteless? Or was the post -in combination- with his perceived lack of faith that made the post tasteless? I get the impression it's the latter, not the former.

Let's face it - in this particular case, when aka and bleh said that Kenny has crossed a line of morality, what they are really saying is that they have crossed their line of morality. Yet, nudity is highly subjective. Depending on context it can be moving, funny, distasteful, obscene, or titillating. The very FACT that there is so much controversy over this picture supports the diversity of views that Kenny's post inadvertently caused.

All I ask Kenny readers to do is to take a deep breath, consider the diversity of views available, then make your decision. More importantly, I ask you to consider things from Kenny's perspective. He obviously found it funny. A few of you did not. Is that really grounds to be disappointed in him?

For the record, I am not sexist - I believe the fact that I am willing to remove myself from my lucrative legal career in Singapore for the uncertainty of living (and possibly not finding work) in California to facillitate my wife's desired career in academia speaks more than I can ever write in this blog. I fully support SPG's right to nudity, and more than admire her guts to be unashamed of her body and sex. I fully support Kenny's right to post whatever rocks his world and feels is true to himself.

-IF- there is one thing I find objectionable about the whole thing, it is the fact that Kenny took down the pictures. I do not think he has done anything wrong, and his pictures, while distasteful to some, obviously provided amusement to others. To support some readers at the expense of others seems to smack of a compromise of what Kenny had set out to do in that post.

For that, Kenny, I mourn your passing. May it be temporary.

Temper, Temper

I have a temper.

No suprises there - I had just yesterday vented it on some hapless Straits Times Reporter whose name I will not deign to repeat. I do not regret it, considering the "buay hiao bai" behaviour he roguishly displayed to Linda.

That is not to say I do not regret displays of temper. In fact, this is one of the rare occassions I do not regret losing my temper.

Hence, when Huichieh describes my writing style as being "ever measured", I feel it is my obligation to let my readers know that I am not, in fact, even-tempered. Far from it. I've just learnt over the years to keep my temper on a short leash.

There -are- still a couple of things that can set it off - most of them to do with my upbringing. One of the things that -will- set me off are bullies. Growing up a geeky, overweight teenager in an all-boys school priding itself for producing jocks has left it's mark on me.

What does this have to do with poor hapless Mr. Au Yong? Simply that I have a very short temper for perceived injustices, especially when said injustices are perpetuated from half-truths or misleading "common wisdom" - the meat and drink of bullies to exert social power. -ESPECIALLY- when someone should know better.

For someone who prides himself on his self-control, coolness of mind and ability to rationalise argument, it is with some shame that I look back on my writings yesterday. Not that Mr. Au Yong didn't deserve my harshest language, but because I did what I did for improper motives - and received much positive feedback from it.

No one should have to deal with ungentlemanly behaviour because of someone else's hangup. No one.

This is not an apology to Mr. Au Yong. This is a statement to the Singapore Blogging Community - you guys did great. Don't let the ravings of one biased ignorant reporter and one foaming-mad writer ever take that from you.

Perpetuating a Stereotype

I've been avoiding commentary about Singapore events - I feel that as a Singaporean that has left Singapore, the news that I get about Singapore may not accurately reflect the actual sentiment of Singaporeans.

However, it is with a great deal of annoyance that I read the recent Straits Times report on Blogger.sg. The article annoyed me enough to spur me into commentary - and probably in the strongest language I've used on this blog.

My biggest gripe about this article is that it is built on false assumptions and perpetuates two negative stereotypes about bloggers (i) that blogging is primarily about "provocative pictures, biting commentaries and wit", and (ii) that bloggers are unjustifably uncomfortable with commentary when their public identities are known.

Mr. Au Yong, before you continue to spread such lies, I strongly urge you to examine your own prejudices before infecting the local media with them. As a journalist, I would expect no less from you, though I'm willing to give a small discount on journalistic standards simply because I understand the system you're working in.

The Purpose of Blogging

Mr Au Yong, reading the totality of the first two paragraphs of the article, I am forced to ask - What were your expectations of a Bloggers' Conferfence? It seems to me that you've relied on two common but erroneous stereotype of blogging (i) that blogging is about readership and (ii) bloggers do what they can to -attract- readership.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

I write of my life in California, and the trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows I've faced here. If nothing else, my readership has gone -down- since my post about my move to San Francisco. Yet, I continue to write about it, simply because I feel it is a good source of information for me -and- my friends to look back on.

I can name any number of bloggers that write solely in their chosen areas of interest. Huichieh on singaporeangle writes excellent analysis on current affairs - but in a manner that would almost certainly exclude many casual readers because the depth of his analysis can get intimidating. InfernoXV writes primarily about his interest in Catholicism, the Classics and ancient music - again, subjects that will not interest the casual reader. Ivan writes about his work in the library. Shianux writes about legal developments and very occassionally, Singapore politics.

I write about what I do because of something Mr Miyagi wrote to me a long time ago. The Story Tells Itself. I believe in this strongly enough that I write - and if I get readership so much the better. I believe that many others in the Singapore Blogosphere write because they want to - and in the areas that they are interested in. If they -happen- to be interested in controversial issues, nude pictures, scolding taxi heisters or austitic children, more power to them.

More importantly, they do so because they are filling an information void created by mainstream media.

In short, Mr. Au Yong, you've got the entire phenomenon a** head backwards. Some of us write for readership. Others just write - readership follows.

Putting Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Are bloggers uncomfortable without their online personas? Perhaps.

Or perhaps there's this thing in Singapore called the Public Entertainment License SPECIFICALLY curtailing the very things that you seem to expect from a blogging conference? You know - controversial pictures? Dirty jokes?

Do we bloggers honestly expect protection with our online personas? Explain to me how acidflask got sued seven ways to Sunday by Phillip Yeo then. Explain to me how our beloved PSC scholar started a media frenzy over his racist comments - a media frenzy whipped up by you, the Straits Times no less.

Mr. Au Yong, if you -had- done your homework, you would know that there -is- no protection with an online persona - a fact that most Singaporean bloggers are becoming uncomfortably aware of, and a fact that the paper you work for exploits from time to time.

Hence, I strongly resent the overtones of cowardice or hiding behind your online persona that seems to be prevalent in your article.

A Whole Load of Hooey

I'm willing to wager, though I've not spoken to any of the organisers of Blogger.sg, that the whole point of the Blogger Conference was to =have= a Blogger Conference, nothing more. There would be no discussion of specific =topics= to blog on simply because the interests on =what= to blog are just too diverse.

We blog. That's good enough for Blogger Conference. That's good enough for me.

Apparently, that's not good enough for you, Mr. Au Yong. You are entitled to your erroneous opinion. I am entitled to rip it to shreds.

I will give you the benefit of the doubt that your article was written without careful consideration, and that you did not set out maliciously to do an NKF on Singapore bloggers - in spite of the fact that mainstream news reporting has very legimitate reasons to fear this phenomenon called blogging.

That being said, Mr Au Yong, I find your article as offensive as stereotyping Chinese as slanty-eyed money-faced gamblers, or stereotyping Australians as underachieving beer-guzzling former convicts. Your article is inaccurate and misleading, Mr Au Yong. I sincerely hope that an apology would be printed, even though I know the chances of that happening are smaller than the chances of winning TOTO - without buying a ticket.

If you take away -anything- from this, Mr. Au Yong, take away the solemn reminder never to let your stereotyping infect your work.

********

All bolded text below is my emphasis.

HEADLINE: 1st bloggers' conference is one big YAWN;
Mostly in their 20s, they seem guarded; Internet Relay Chat livens things

BYLINE: Jeremy Au Yong Shawn Woo

"THEIR personal websites are all about attitude - keeping readers riveted with provocative pictures, biting commentaries and wit.

Yet, when 200 of these bloggers got together at DXO CLUB at the Esplanade yesterday, the result was neither riveting nor provocative.

Many of the mostly 20-somethings seemed guarded, as if uncomfortable without the protection of their online personas. They listened politely to the talks given, spoke in turn, clapped at the right times and largely kept to PG-13 topics.

It was Singapore's first bloggers conference, but at times it could have been mistaken for a chess club board meeting.

In fact, despite baring their heart and soul online, many bloggers that The Sunday Times approached were shy and did not want to reveal their real names.

All the brightest moments came from the 'backchannel' - a large screen displaying a live Internet Relay Chat between members in the room.

There, in their native environment, the bloggers were themselves again - poking fun at the speakers, swinging insults and cracking crude jokes. The speakers were interrupted numerous times by the audience laughing at a remark made on the screen.

Among the speakers were lawyers who spoke about legal considerations for bloggers. A panel of tech-savvy Netizens also gave a presentation on how to use technology to improve blogs.

Those that went there to meet popular bloggers, however, were not disappointed. The who's who of homegrown bloggers - Mr Brown, Mr Miyagi and Xiaxue - were out in force and posed for photographs with the fans.

One of the organisers, Mr Lee Kin Mun, 35, an Internet consultant who goes by the name of Mr Brown, noticed that some people were not paying attention to the talks, but he said that was in the spirit of things. 'We always wanted a casual thing, not everyone sitting down listening to one blogger telling them what to do. I could tell at one stage many were mingling at the back, but that's fine.'"

Technorati Tags: Singapore, Blogosphere, Blogger.sg

How Cool is That?

Lots of good things happening.

- My private international law professor, Prof Jiminez, was kind enough to give some of us tickets to this week's baseball game between Oakland Athletics and the Texas Rangers! I don't follow baseball, but it'd be great to actually go to a ball game!

- Sadeel, our Jordanian import, was kind enough to treat us all to a meal of delicious Tajim Ajeeb, which Sadeel humourously calls Lebanese fast food. It's a flat pastry folded over, with minced beef, onions and kebab spice. It's excellent!

- My criminal law and procedure professor, Gerald Uelman, was lead counsel on the OJ case! I'll be seeing him next week.

Yeap. Life is great.

Book Meme

Extracting revenge for tagging him with the Movie meme, Edward has now tagged me with the Book Meme.

Before I start this meme, let me explain that (i) I'm primarily a Science Fiction/Fantasy reader, so expect that to be the major influence in my reading choices and (ii) I'm endlessly fascinated with the nature of heroism and the human spirit.

With that, here are my responses

Total Number of Books I'ved Owned:

Close to 1000, probably, estimating my five over full shelves, some double-stacked. Most of it is science fiction and fantasy.

Last Book I Bought:

I had just completed Robin Hobb's "The Golden Fool", second book in the "Tawny Man" saga. I like the series, but I'm not absolutely crazy about it - mainly because the protagonist is a well-fleshed character but is way too whiny for my liking.

Last Book I Read:

"Before sailing away with the sad news, their leader came to see me. He was an oaf named Procopius and the wine had not improved his appearance. 'O great and mighty Master Li, pray impart to me the Secret of Wisdom!' he bawled. A silly smile was sliding down the side of his face like a dripping water-colour, and his eyeballs resembled a pair of pink pigeon eggs that were gently bouncing in saucers of yellow won-ton soup. To my great credit I never batted an eyelash. 'Take a large bowl' I said. 'Fill it with equal measures of fact, fantasy, history, mythology, science, superstition, logic and lunacy. Darken the mixtures with bitter tears, brighten it with howls of laughter, toss in three thousand years of civilisation, bellow kai pei - which means 'dry cup' - and drink it to the dregs.' Procopious stared at me. 'And will I be wise?' he asked. 'Better,' I said. 'You will be Chinese.'

Li Kao, excerpted from Bridge of Birds written Barry Hughart

Bridge of Birds is an excellent novel about an Ancient China that never was. It never was because it was invented by Barry Hughart, a resident of Arizona. However, it is so -very- believable that it could have happened in Ancient China. The story begins with a village of children poisoned by a rare toxin, and the quest to rescue them that ties into an ancient wrong. The two protagonists, Number Ten Ox and Li Kao, are hilarious and so are the large cast of minor characters. I highly recommend this book.

Five Books that Mean a Lot to Me:

My first response to this would be "only five?!". Given the limitations of the meme, these are my picks.

"Legend" by David Gemell

"Never violate a woman, nor harm a child. Do not lie, cheat or steal. These things are for lesser men. Protect the weak against the evil strong. And never allow thoughts of gain to lead you into the pursuit of evil. Never back away from an enemy. Either fight or surrender. It is not enough to say I will not be evil. Evil must be fought wherever it is found."

---The "Iron Code" of Druss

There comes a time in our lives where we are given no quarter, and ask for none. The book is about one such situation. An old fortress, the gateway to the Drenai Nation is understaffed and is about to be overwhelmed by the world's equivalent of the Mongol hordes. The leader of the ragtag defenders is the greatest Drenai hero, Druss the Legend. Except he's aging. And he dies before the final battle.

Yes, it's stock. Yes, it's trite. But David Gemell's writing is elemental in a way that I can't explain. It's not just this book - all his books hit you in the gut in a primal way. My respect for David Gemell grew when I discovered that he started out mining coal for a living - and discovered that his years of coal mining gave him lung cancer. In many ways, "Legend" can be read as his battle with cancer.

Read it, give the plot a chance. :D

"Hunchback of Notre Dame" by Victor Hugo

Having extremely limited proficiency in French, I was unable to read in its original language what is, in my opinion, Hugo's best work. I liked Les Miserables too, but honestly, for raw power and heroism, no one beats Quasimodo - the original "beast with a good heart". I especially love the scene where Quasimodo climbs up the tower one-handed (the other bearing his lady love) and yells for sanctuary.

The question I always ask when I read and reread this masterpiece is, "What kind of mix of self-loathing and heroism would lead Quasimodo to do what he does?" The other question is of course...

"Who =hasn't= ever felt like Quasimodo?"

"Snow Crash" by Neal Stephenson

Name me one other book that would name their protagonist..."Hiro Protagonist". A break from my usual taste for heroic protagonists, Hiro is anything but his namesake. What the book does in scintillating splendor, however, is explaining some truly esoteric concepts in almost-believeable manner.

What I love about Snow Crash, however, is Raven, the main antagonist.

How badass is Raven? He's so badass he rides around with a nuclear warhead strapped to his cycle. He's so badass he wired said warhead to a deadman's switch - ensuring that anyone who kills him is going to take out most of the city Raven's currently in. He's -so- badass that he uses knives made from the one material able to hold a monomolecular edge - glass.

"A Hymn Before Battle" by John Ringo

Military science fiction is an extremely niche area of literary fiction. In this small niche area, there exists an undisputed master - John Ringo. This author has served time in the military, and it shows in his writing. More so, he knows and is able to explain the difference between a hero and a heroic soldier. I do very much enjoy his postulations and extrapolations of fictional "what-if" scenarios.

The interesting thing about "A Hymn Before Battle" is that while it features a main protagonist, the true strength of this book is the theme of collective heroism - so important in seperating an elite fighting unit and an ordinary one.

"Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro

A departure from my usual readings, and a text from my undergrad days - my only foray into academic literature. Remains of the Day had a major influence on me - it has always represented the ideal of hope and sacrifice to me.

Indeed of all the books that I love, this one strikes me even closer now that I'm at the cusp of a new journey, and so close to having completed my old one.

The five people I tag are:

One Little Twit (sorry to victimise you again!)
Loy Huichieh (who will probably blow me away with his intelligence)
Shianux (ditto)
The Slinky Cat (because a good turn deserves another)
Ivan Chew (what does a Librarian read?)

You Know You've Been Logging Too Much When...

...the first thing you think off when you see this article is Faith, Mr Brown's 4 year-old daughter.

Perhaps there is some hope left, so long as people like Mr Brown continue to raise our awareness of autism and other learning disabilities. Mostly about how even autistic kids will be kids.

God Bless, Mr Brown.

How Far Would You Walk....

...to save 2 quarters worth of parking fees?

When I head to the commercial heart of Berkeley, I usually park my car in the nearest residential area (2 hours free parking) and leg it the rest of the distance. Sometimes I even just forego the parking and walk the whole distance. That's 2.6 miles walking, there and back. All to avoid 50 cents parking and gas money.

I've had a number of struggles to overcome since I've arrived here. For the most part, I think I've done a decent job. The one thing that I haven't been dealing too well with is my new lack of income.

Make no mistake. I miss it, but I'm not going through withdrawal symptoms. However, some spending habits that I've acquired over my three years of work form a very stark contrast to my current situation. When I walk by a restaurant, I look at the menu and am acutely aware that I would have been able to afford it had I still been working. I look at the price tag of a book I want and wonder how much of a dent that would make in my extremely limited budget.

I try to do what I can to save money. Sometimes I wonder if I am going overboard, but I suppress that thought. Better safe than sorry, and I had already had to incur many costs that were not budgetted.

Interestingly enough, it has not dampened my spirits in any way. If nothing else, the whole experience has taught me to appreciate the best things in life. Long walks down Telegraph Avenue (the Bohemian district) on Saturday. Chilling out at the park. Making simple but delicious meals. Those things govern my life now.

I've never been happier.

Tragedy

Oh gawds.

I was awaken today with Edward babbling something about phone bills and checking if people are safe. Confused and bleary, I only just made out what happened.

Nothing I can write can describe how I feel about this. This is ghastly. I can only think of my friends who are in London when this happened - I pray that you are okay.

What You Use To Catch De-Fish With

A month ago, I had a farewell lunch to my beloved mentor and good friend. She had lost a husband earlier this year in a tragic accident. She dutifully turned up for my dinner invitation even though I knew her heart wasn't in it.

Some time during the dinner conversation, I asked her why she did not take part in competitive debating anymore. Her answer, "It's too destructive".

For a long time I couldn't think of a response.

Slowly, it dawned on me that she was right - and I had been feeling that way for years. I had tried out for competitive debating while I was in JC but I wasn't selected - leading to over 5 years of trying to "get into" the debate scene. I tried out for debates in University - and I succeeded in getting selected for a team.

It wasn't the joy I thought it would be.

I continued on to try out for mooting competitions (I failed at that too) and slowly, the passion I had when I was in JC faded away. I just...slowly distanced myself from it. The passion wasn't there.

It's now, after almost 12 years, that I realised it wasn't passion - it was envy. The truth is, I never had enthusiasm for being a debator. It was a means to an end - to get into law school, to get over my stutter. But never what I -wanted- to do. The sad thing is, for years, I had mistaken it for passion and pursued what was ultimately a dead end.

Now, at the beginning of a new beginning, I now see what had always held me back. I was not inclined to be destructive. I've never been. I eventually became good at it, sure. But as I grow older I realise that it is not complex seemless arguments, or the thread of argument that survives the attempts to tear it down that is ultimately true or wise. It is merely that which survives destruction.

It is simple truth.

Professor Steinman once asked the class to "prove water is wet". I go further and ask if any simple truth, by nature of being simple, will ever be proven.

I do not ask people to simply accept truths as being self-evident. Far from it. I ask people to remember that in the midst of seeking truth, one might forget that truth might simply settle on you when you're not looking.

Living in the Bay

There's one thing I simply cannot get over - the weather in the Bay Area. The air here is always dry and crisp. Bread doesn't go mouldy. Cereal doesn't turn soggy. Stuff dries up so fast.

It's a godsend for someone with ezcema. I've not had an attack since I got here (touch wood).

I also can't get over how going 40 miles south can turn a day from cool and bracing to warm and sunny. There's a big difference between the weather in San Jose and Berkeley. San Jose feels like a dessert - a pleasant desert, but a desert nonetheless. Berkeley feels cool and bracing all the time.

Another thing I can't get over is how...bright the sun here is. It's a whole different quality from the sun we get back home. Sunlight here is white. Sunlight back home has a yellowish quality to it.

Thanks to my 40 mile commute everyday, I now have one arm darker than the other. That's because I drive down south in the mornings and back north in the evenings - meaning the sun's always left relative to the direction I'm driving.

The food here feels no different from the food I get back home. That's probably because I cook a lot. Rice here is cheap enough that I can have it as a staple - and there's no difference in price between Thai Jasmine Rice and them Japanese sticky short stumpies (Rice grains! RICE GRAINS!). Soy sauce and oyster sauce are readily available.

Most of all, I'm much happier about the level of independence I have here. I do stuff for myself, and while I'm very money-conscious here since everything here is so expensive, there's a lot I can do to entertain myself for free. I now relish walking down to do groceries - about 10 blocks down, and 8 of it is beautiful suburbia, complete with lawns, gardens, flowers, fruit trees and squirrels.

In short, I feel the changes coming. It's barely been a month and I don't feel like the person that left Singapore - or more accurately, like the person in Singapore should have been.

I'm not sure if I can fit in once I return to Singapore. I'm not sure fitting in is a good thing.

Meet Sierra

Sierra is a gorgeous golden retriever belonging to my Constitutional Law professor, Edward Steinman. Professor Steinman brought her to class for both his classes. She's an absolute sweetheart, quietly napping away while we grapple with the Bill of Rights.

My LLM summer session has started. It's been all great so far. We have about 14 topics to cover and we've managed to cover 2 in our week here so far - Constitutional Law and Contract Law. We've started Intellectual Property so far. The work's intense but I finally have the chance to relax over this Independence Day weekend.

My classmates are great. We have 2 Austrians, 2 Chinese (as in from China), 1 Peruvian, 1 Jordanian, 1 French and 1 former UN Commissioner for Human Rights (what he's doing in our classes I have -no- idea). And there's me, the only common law conversant person among the whole group. We're planning parties already.

My course material has been great so far, save one - I've realised a wee bit of bias against Foreign LLM students in terms of course selection. It probably isn't intentional but it exists. We've one year here - and hence our selection is extremely limited due to prerequisites. We've no GPA so that further limits our course selection. End result - cool courses like internships, externships and writing for the Journal are barred from us.

I'm can't say I'm not disappointed - but at least the option of contributing to the Journal is open to me, and I've learnt a long time ago not to dwell on inabilities but to do the best I can.

Busy Busy Busy

Classes have started.

I'm incredibly happy to be back in school. Santa Clara University is certainly a cut above the only other university I've attended - both in terms of student resources and quality of teaching.

I can honestly say that, while I'm overwhemled, the sheer opportunity of the place is exciting. I'm currently looking into possibilities I never thought possible - internships, externships, writing, working part-time.

All this mixed with the sobering realisation of how naive and sheltered the legal profession in back in Singapore - it's motivation for me to work that much harder, and learn what I can here.

Oh, and I got a picture of my Constitutional Law professor's pong pong Golden Retriever. Will upload it in a few days.

IPO Announcement

I am proud to announce that Almost Infamous has been listed as of June 26 2005 approximately 7 pm Pacific Time.

:fiddles around with blogshares:

What?!

You mean I can't speculate in oil derivatives, lose a fortune and repay 33 cents to the dollar on my oustanding debts?!

You mean I can't announce a merger, inflate my stock price, post records losses, then subsequently announce that the merger was a big mistake and drop my original name from the company?

You mean I can't use questionable accounting methods and tactics to manufacture a power failure to drive my profits up?

You mean I can't speculate in Nikkei derivatives, lose a fortune and...oh...wait...

This sucks! Where's the fun in listing your blog?

Disclaimer: This entry was intended to parody real life events. almostinfamous.blogspot.com has no intention to speculate on derivatives of any kind, announcing mergers, use questionable accounting methods or tactics.

My Weekend Off

Having completed most of the setting up chores, and left with a day before school starts proper, I took a quick drive down to the Berkeley Marina. I received two recommendations to head there - one from Don the Technician, the other from...I forgot who.

Wat a view it was.

I drove right to the end of the Marina, where the Fisherman's Pier was.


Humans aren't the only fishers here

Fisherman's Pier is 3000 feet of fishing heaven in San Francisco Bay. That's 3000 feet of useable space - the entire length of the Pier is actually 3.5 miles. From the Pier, I could see San Francisco, the Bay Bridge, and the Golden Gate Bridge - shrouded in the summer fog this area is famous for.


Golden Gate Bridge in the Background

I arrived at the Pier at about 1 in the afternoon and damn near froze to death. The sea wind (I hestitate to call it sea breeze) blasted away relentlessly. I found out later from a former boat salesman, John, that the Bay has some of the best sailing available in the world - as evidenced by the many sailboats I saw.


Oooo...sailboat

Worried that my toes were going to turn blue and fall off, I headed for land as fast as I could. Hoping to catch more glimpses of the sailboats, I drove down to the berths.


Oooo...many sailboats

I had never been to a Marina before in Singapore. To my best knowledge, those are exclusively private affairs - very much unlike the one here. Hence, I ogled at pretty sailboats until I felt like leaving.

One thing about Berkeley Marina though - it was also connected to a small nature preserve where bird watchers liked to congregate. There were nearby barbecue pits overlooking a sheltered bay area as well. Familes gathered around in idyllic bliss.

And there were squirrels!

My good friends know that I've a barely-concealed obsession with things cute and furry; the fluffier the better. Here in the Bay Area - EVERYTHING is pong-pong and fluffier than what I am used to. Including the squirrels, which I like chasing around.


Don't shoot me please!

Needless to say, I was damn proud getting this shot of the squirrel. I've tried several times to get a squirrel close up, but none were as good or close up as this one.

All in all, a nice lazy afternoon spent doing boh-liao things - for the first time since I got here.

Been There...

...got the T-Shirt!



I learnt a valueable lesson today - never make a boast you can't keep. Yes, I went to Google today. No, I'm not about to write in detail about it.

Because friends are more valueable than any boast I can make.

Jay was a class act. He was responsible for the wonderful lunch I had, he was responsible for the cool T-shirt I now own and he's one of two friends have who live here. Because I can't endanger Jay's job by any inadvertent disclosure to detail that I can make, I will write only that the details don't matter.

Sounds self-contradictory? Not so.

Think, if you will, of Rodin's statue "David". Imagine that you own this coveted statue. Like many others before you, you know have the opportunity to study, in detail, the many nuances of Rodin's masterpiece.

Assuming that you got every detail right, would you have duplicated "David"?

I argue not.

There are many terms for this quality. The French call it "'je ne sais quoi". The fashion industry calls it the "X-Factor". Houduins call it "mojo". Sportmen call it the "110%". Businessmen call it the "Midas Touch".

I have a simple term for it. Greatness.

Like all forms of greatness, the details are mere symptoms, not the processes by which greatness is acheived.

Today, I've witnessed greatness. I did not think it possible for greatness to exist in the corporate world, yet today, there it stood, a complete success story, there in brick and mortar, flesh and blood.

And now that I've witnessed greatness I am now ever more determined to find my own greatness. For that, I thank you, Jay.

I Did It!

To everyone who says the US Driving test is a piece of cake, I can only say "I hope you choke on that cake." Reason - no matter how easy a test is, it only takes one circumstance beyond your control to really mess things up.

Wednesday was the most awful day I had since I got here. I failed my driving test first try. Sadly it wasn't my fault. Some idiot driver cut into my lane while I was making a left turn. He approached from my blind spot, so I couldn't see him - leading to tester intervention which was an immediate failure.

I think the tester took pity on me, because he offered an unscheduled test the very next morning. I thanked him profusely. The rest of that Wednesday left my nerves in very bad shape - because all I could do was wait for the test next morning, and speculating the consequences of failing a second time.

Thankfully I didn't. I passed it this morning. Joy! I immediately rushed out and bought a nice second-hand Civic. I know I probably got gouged, but I don't care anymore. I got my license, got rid of my rental and drove off with my Civic, all in one day.


My Ah-Beng Car


I'm so relieved. That was the very last item I had before school next week. I can now spend my weekend in peace - and I shall.

I'm heading to Google tomorrow! With a camera!

Movie Meme

Got tagged by Slinky a while back - but was too busy angsting over my move that I haven't followed up on it. So here it is.

Total Number of films I own on DVD/Video

Probably in the hundreds. God bless JB.

The Last Film I Bought

Sin City. Watch it. It's GOOD!

Five Films I Watch A Lot/Mean a Lot to Me

This will sound strange but....

Hero

The Chinese version, not the Dustin Hoffman version. At the risk of sounding cheenah, I so totally -get- the movie. From a story version on flawed anti-heroes, to cold calculating heroes, to the very essence of a chinese hero, the movie told one story with a flawed first person narrative structure that doesn't often work in movies - except this one. Add that to gorgeous cinematography, beautifully choreographed action scenes and actors that know what they are doing!

Oh. And it had Donnie Yuen. That man is a legend. Get him some good parts please!

Taegukgi/Brotherhood

Forget Saving Ryan's Privates and The Thin Red Line. If there's a movie that ever potrayed the dehumanising effect on war, this is it. It was heartbreaking to see the elder brother take on mission after dangerous mission just to get his brother out of the draft and into university. It was more heartbreaking to watch him lose his purpose, then his humanity.

Okay, so it was melodramatic, and quite OTT towards the end, but if you EVER had siblings you love deeply, I guarantee this movie will pull some tears from you.

Snatch

I love anything by Guy Ritchie, but I think this is my favourite of his works. Edgy and fricking hilarious, it makes Pulp Fiction look like a lame retard. Not to say I don't like Pulp Fiction. I just like Guy Ritchie films so much more. The dialogue is just nice and tight, and the humour wicked.

Oh, and who doesn't like Brad Pitt and Vinnie Jones? I mean really?

The Incredibles

Another family-oriented movie. I loved this one especially because it had so many layers that appealed to me. The kiddy stuff, the animation is great. But the scripting was so excellent that it dealt with very adult stuff in a very understandable way. Another tear-jerker from me was when Mr Incredible yells out in frustration "I'm not strong enough!". God knows I've been there so many times, and I don't know a single married man who hasn't felt that way before.

A Better Tomorrow

I'm sorry. It had to be done. The grand-daddy of all HK gangster movies. The movie that made Chow Yuen Fatt a legend. The story that taught me all I need to know about friendship (and yes, I do realise how screwed up that makes me sound).

'Nuff said.

Tag 5 People and Have Them Put It In Their Blog

Linda Chia (cos I want her to keep writing)
Edward Yong (cos I know what he's going to write)
Gloria Ho (cos I don't know what she's going to write)
BigFuck (cos I know this will piss him off. :D)
One Little Twit (just coz!)

Things On IM

Edward: I just thought of a brilliant name for an all-male gay choir...."Tutti Fruitti"!

Me: Why? Cos "Queen" was taken?

It had to be done. Forgive me.

Reaching Out

Mr Brown's fairly recent article about Instant Messenging got me thinking. Sure, as a veteran of IM to pass away dreary hours in the office, it's great fun. However, it's taken on a whole new edge here, 8000 miles away from home. It's no longer a luxury.

It's a need.

As romantic as the notion of leaving home and pursuing your dreams is, there is very little romantic about homesickness. It hits you hard. It hits everyone who leaves home. It's that lurking feeling in your gut, that little parasite in your brain that asks "What the hell are you doing here?". It's a natural thing. I am just thankful that I was not brought up macho-shit, and have no qualms about expressing my feelings - I think that a different upbringing, one less well-adjusted, would have broken me.

Still, one MUST find ways of coping with homesickness. I've mentioned an aspect of this in my previous blog entry - keeping busy. I say with some authority that this is mere denial. Sooner or later, you feel a need to renew a connection with home.

That is where IM comes in. Today, I had my first Skype conversations. The previous days where I had my computer hooked up to the Internet had been first marred by the inability to get my sound card working, then by a fried chipboard. In days before this I had to rely on my trust phone and Singtel roaming connection to keep in contact, then by silent webcam.

I can't quite describe the feeling of seeing your family lined up in front of the webcam. It's exilarating. It's a small window to their lives, a faint connection to home that, despite distance, refuses to die. More important, that lurking shadow of guilt over roaming charges just vanishes. One is more willing to speak freely when one does not feel like he has to compress everything in as short a time as possible. IM, for me, in the form of MSN and Skype, made this possible for me.

We talked a lot, my wife and I. She expressed her fears on her scholarship. I tried to reassure her as best I could. She brought Junior in front of the webcam. Junior looked slightly perturbed, but was a real trooper.

I promised my wife and my technophopic mother to wake up early in the mornings to speak to them. I am only too pleased to comply. Leisure and family, for me at least, has merged into a happy muddle.

For a while every morning, at least, I can quell those nasty voices in my head.

Father's Day

There's something about being 8000 miles from home that makes everything at home rose-tinted. Even my dad.

Make no mistakes. I love my dad to bits. He's just very...undemonstrative. Were he a Roman, he'd have rised through the ranks with great ease. So when I got off the phone with him after talking to him for a full 15 minutes, I was suprised to say the least.

I've often claimed to be very much my mother's son. I didn't realise how much of my father's son I was, until one week ago.

I wrote in my previous entry about my various trials since getting here. I cannot say I've been unaffected by them. But as I plod on regardless, I realise depths I never knew I had. What patience and silent resilience I have, I inherited from a man who worked his way through school, and carved out a good life for himself with his bare hands.

So, as I spend my first Father's Day so far away from my old man, I can only thank the gifts he's given me, and continue my best wishes for him.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

The Neighbourhood

I realise I haven't actually shot many pictures of the neighbourhood I now live in. Suffice to say, it's suburban heaven. I'm less than a block away from Willard Park. It's a beautiful open space. On weekends I can see families having picnics and playing ball.


Willard Park


Playground at Willard Park

The thing I love most about my new neighbourhood is the fact that, while it's suburban, it's not uniform. I see buildings made of wood, brick and concrete. I see apartment buildings (like the one I live in) and beautiful 1920's style housing, like this one.



I've taken to walking around the neighbourhood a bit during lazy warm afternoons. Apparently it shows - my mom claims I've lost weight during my inaugural webcam sessions yesterday. Then again, this is my mom - who takes every bit of weight loss personally.

My wife, of course, claims the webcam is flattering.

T Plus One Week - Serendipity and Other Things

One week ago, I set out on a life-changing journey. I flew to Berkeley to set up a little apartment. As promised, here's the story.

The Plane Trip

Amidst a tearful farewell at the airport, I left Changi Airport Terminal 2. At my farewell was Nick, Dawn, Edward and family, and my own family. In a rare display of emotion, my mother burst into tears. I comforted her as best I could, and as I walked into the boarding area, I didn't turn back, as I had promised myself.

The first part of the plane trip was uneventful. I helped myself to as many movies as I could cram in a 6 hour flight to Seoul. In front of me, a pair of people were talking loudly. I assumed they were old friends and kept to myself. My own wounds were still too fresh.

After a short stop at Seoul, a situation developed. Seated beside me was a family travelling to San Francisco. The lady beside me looked disturbingly like my old company's head of HR. Beside her, on the opposite aisle seat, was an old lady, head leaning forward, looking rather green around the gills.

I soon found out that they were flying from Korea, after visiting their family. They were apparently related to some Korean star whose name I just could not remember (It wasn't Wong Bin). While relating to me the tale of their family visit, I found out that the old lady on the other aisle seat was, in fact, the lady's mother, and she had just undergone a liver transplant. A while later, the lady asked the crewmen for a row with empty adjoining seats.

For a brief moment, I recalled my own crying mother at the airport.

I volunteered to move to the row in front, with the two chatting people. I figured that they wouldn't mind - they had each other for company after all. One of the two chatting people in front, a young lady, ducked into the center seat. She didn't mind sitting in the center, she said.

It turns out that I was mistaken. The two of them just got to know each other on the plane. Strangely enough, they were both headed to Stanford to attend the graduations of their significant others. I introduced myself to them, and we spent the rest of the 11 hours chatting like old friends. One turned out to be tres chic, the other turned out to be...well...you'll see.

Jay is singularly -the- most unassuming man I've ever met. He had just returned from a business trip from India and wanted to suprise his girlfriend at her graduation. When probed further, he revealed who he was actually working for.

Google.

You heard me. Google. -THE- internet company. The mighty giant slayer.

I found out so many things about Google from him. Like how Google actually functions as an in-built calculator. How they serve lobster and steak at the cookhouse at the office.

In the course of our conversation, I asked him where else has he worked. His reply blew my mind even more.

NASA. Yeap. That organisation that launches people to the moon?!

Christina, my other row-mate, was equally interesting, though for different reasons. She's a happy, bubbly, Indonesian girl working for GIC (insert gah-men joke here) and anxiously awaiting to see her DSTA Scholar boyfriend Nigel. She talked at length about how her future in-laws (once Nigel -acutally- gets round to proposing) are the best-est people in the world, and how sweet Nigel was as a dude.

But Jay was, of course, tres chic. Cos he worked for Google.

Needless to say, Christina and I relentless badgered Jay about Google. I think it was equal parts nice-guy and just to shut both of us up, but Jay was nice enough to invite us to lunch at Google. So yeah, I'm gonna visit Google in a week's time. Is that cool or what?!

As we were about to land, Christina gushed about her future in-laws, and how we should really check them out. I stayed around. Jay must have rushed off, since I was slowed down by immigration and baggage issues so badly.

Here's the really freaky part.

When Christina finally introduced her future in-laws, I saw a middle-aged lady who looked -so- familiar. I couldn't quite place it. With that nagging thought in my mind, I left the airport for my rental car.

A few days later, when I called Christina, I asked tentatively if she went to Convenant Community Methodist Church. When she replied (more like gushed) in the affirmative, she handed me over to her future in-law, Aunty June.

It turns out that June was the organiser of a Sunday School class at CCMC - a place I hadn't returned to in over 10 years. I taught there 10 years ago when a girl I was pursuing at the time was there. And June remembered me, because the girl and I helped direct a Christmas play where we auditioned literally dozens of people until we got the perfect Shepard - Neville, Nigel's elder brother.

The really freaky part is - the girl that I was pursuing at the time is also in San Francisco. I don't have her contact, but I know she's here because my old Drama teacher told me.

The First Night

When I arrived in my new apartment, it was cold, bare and lonely. There was no furniture, no comforts of home, no grumpy brother and father, no nosy mother, no hyperactive wife, nothing. That awful first night, I broke down and cried. I missed home so badly. I called home in hysterical sobs.

My wife calmed me down that first night. She had been through it before during her undergrad days. I finished the phone call feeling tired but much much better.

The Next Few Days

After that awful first night, I resolved to beat back my homesickness. I went into a frenzy of decorating and stocking up. I bought groceries, crockery, furniture, everything. I assembled my own TV Rack and office chair. I understand now why people tell me to keep busy while I'm here. Every blow of the hammer, every assembled piece of furniture would beat back the loneliness just that little bit more.


Notice something wrong with the TV Rack?

When I was assembling this TV rack, I got three pieces back to front and hammered my index finger. I'm glad it's still holding up my big-ass TV. I usually watch the Comedy and Sci-Fi channel on it now.

The days that I spent could best be described as "two-steps-forward-one-step-back". Everything I did seemed to be unduly complicated by issues. My power transformers broke down and I had to get new ones from Oakland Chinatown. My cable connection was so bad that I had to call in technicians to adjust the frequency before I could get a signal to get internet access. My driving test was cancelled because I didn't get some document from the car rental company (which no one told me about, or even mentioned in the least until I was at the test centre). When setting up the bank account, I had to try three times because of inadequate documentation.

Slowly, but surely, though, my life and lot here got better. I present to you now, the fruits of all my labour.


My computer desk

After my fiasco with my TV Rack, I decided to get someone to install this for me. Don, the assembly technician, was more than helpful. We had a long conversation about places to go in Berkeley, things to eat, places to visit. Don was another interesting guy. He was a former soldier who served in Desert Shield, and spent his time after his service making deliveries as a UPS trucker. His knowledge of the area was nothing short of awesome, and his furniture assembly skills put my own to shame. He has 4 beautiful teenaged kids and he is a good man.


My Kitchen

I am especially proud of my kitchen. It's the heart and soul of my apartment, more so than my computer desk. I cook my meals here, and have been since the second day. I have a wok, a pan, a rick cooker and a microwave. I've a well stocked spice cabinet, and food enough for 2 weeks in the fridge. I'm so very proud that I managed to set this kitchen up from absolutely nothing in such a short time.

So here's the report card of my previous week. It feels like it's been a year, and I still have many things left to do, but I think this is a pretty darned good start for a week.

I'll be blogging again regularly now that I've got my connection. For those of you loyal enough to still be reading this blog, God bless you. All two of you. :D

T-Plus 5 Days

Still in an US$3/hour cafe, so I can't type much. I get my cable connection in two days. When I do, I'll write about the hundreds of stories that I've accumulated in the very short time I am here.

Suffice to say, they involve long-forgotten people from my past, tres chic new friends, a throbbing finger from having hammered my index finger (literally), a funny-looking TV Rack, and the pain of not having a California Driver's License.

Akan Datang. Be back in a day. Promise.

T-Plus 3 Days - Still Alive

I'm alive. It's been a rough few days but I'm alive.

I'm at an internet cafe at the moment. Won't get my connection till thursday, so no anecdotes till then.

Just wanted to drop a post to let everyone know I'm alive, I'm okay, and I really really miss home.

T-Minus One Day

This will be the last post I'm putting up for some time. Tomorrow, I format my hard-disk, delink it from the house router and start afresh. I solved my data transfer problems with an external hard disk fresh off Sim Lim today. Lunch was a pleasant affair with Edward and Gloria. I picked up my new glasses and got a new pouch for my toiletries at Isetan. I'm well ahead of my packing schedule.

Tonight, I had dinner with friends I've not seen in ages. As usual, the non-practioners arrived way before the practioners. One of my friends got married last month without inviting us. Another got attached. A third's getting married next June. And I will miss all of this.

My wife, attending the dinner, asked why I was so depressed after tonight's dinner. I replied it was because I wouldn't be seeing them for a while. She quipped that it will be no different from usual - they would be extremely busy anyway, and I rarely get to see them more than once or twice a year. I didn't reply.

This time I knew things were different. The possibility of seeing them made their distance seem somehow closer. The reverse is also true. Too soon, I'll become something alien and foreign to them. For a person that prides himself on the support networks he's cultivated, it's painful to be seperated from it.

I've freed myself from the drudgery of burning CD's tomorrow, so I'm having dim sum with my mom - just the two of us. I asked my brother along, but he refused, citing his usual practice of having only one meal a day. I look forward to lunch tomorrow. I know that my mom needs to cope with me not being around.

My mother has not slept in days - and I know the reason why. My mother does not sleep at night because she tortures herself with the impossible question of not knowing whether she would have lost me today if I had gone 10 years ago.

10 years ago, I drew strength from my brother and my mother - my two pillars of strength. Today, I'm not sure who draws strength from whom. Some days I return, exhausted with dealing with my job, I look at my brother, mother and wife, and wonder why I am still here, still drudging half-assed through the same system that drove my mom to success, my brother to dejection and my wife to complicated courses of action.

10 years ago, when I asked to be sent overseas to read law, she could not because her company was undergoing restructuring, and she might have lost her job. She didn't tell me the truth of course, and tried to paint the picture that reading law in Singapore was a superior course of action - persuasion out of pure ignorance and desire to shelter me from the uncertainties she was going through.

It wasn't. And for years I resented her. Until I learnt the truth and faced the uncertainties for myself. Then I could no longer resent her.

I can't say for certain this day why I still have so much of a need to go overseas. Perhaps it was regret for this lost opportunity 10 years ago. Perhaps it was a desire to get away from here, to escape this institutionalised madness. Perhaps it was a challenge I set myself 10 years ago to be the best man I could be, and still am not.

Perhaps it was all three. Perhaps it was none. Equal parts bravado and doubt, courage and sacrifice, hope and dejection.

I know that if I turn back on Friday, I'll never have the courage to leave. And if I never leave I cannot love them any more than a mirror can love the true face of the image it reflects.

When I return, I return as their son and brother ought to have been before the disappointments, the envy, the broken dreams. Before the gradual bleed of the soul, the slow rot of the spirit. Before all the compromises. Before all this foolishness began.

I return to them whole because I will have tried, for myself - and that is all I ever needed.

T-Minus 2 Days

Got my power transformers today. It was suprisingly easy. There's one apparently dedicated to the X-Box and I got the one for my computer from Sim Lim. I even had enough time to check out some books from Sunny's and get some World of Warcraft time in today.

I've managed to get everything that I -can- pack into boxes already. Some other things I -can't- pack (like my PC) because I still need them for day to day use.

Almost got over my cold - the remnants still trouble me, but not as much.

During dinner tonight, I struggled with peeling my own apple skin, as I always have. Not that I can't do it - I just can't do it well, efficiently or neatly. My apple slices would always end up misshapen or wrong-sized. My mom, fighting back tears, insisted on peeling the apple for me. She said she wouldn't have a chance to do so for a long time.

My need for independence lost out to letting my mom do the little things she can to manage her sadness.

I left for teh with my friends at night. During teh, I spoke to one of my friends interning at the Straits Times about the recent...mistakes made by the Straits Times vis-a-vis bloggers in general. Though I suspect little will -actually- be done, it felt good to do the right thing. Sadly, feedback in Singapore, like many other Asian countries, have to be done by carefully placed words to the right people.

Very much like letting my mom peel the apple, actually.

T-Minus 3 Days

I packed all my clothes today. It's a revelation to discover all the clothes you own can be stuffed into one suitcase.

I have my X-Box and computer left to pack. Oh and my bed linen and towels and such. So far, I've packed away a bunch of steel bowls, plates and some chinese cooking implements that would be a hassle to find there.

It's weird. I don't feel as excited as I thought I would. It's just task after task after task. Today I bought jeans and a sleeping bag, got my hair cut and made new glasses. Tomorrow I settle my life insurance matters and check if I can get power adaptors for my X-Box and computer. Day after, I'll say my final goodbyes to good friends. Thursday I stay home and burn my precious files and music to CD and ship them off.

I guess this cold I'm nursing doesn't help either. Oh well.

Off to bed, and if this cold doesn't get better by tomorrow I'll go get my system nuked with penicillin again.

Code Name: Ah-Seng

The Note

Something stank.

I checked my calender. Yeap. Three days since my last shower. Still, that didn't explain the note on my table.

"Meet me behind Hideout if you want to crack the conspiracy.

Signed,
Missionary"

I silently cursed my luck with cool nightclubs. I had to play this carefully. If I got anywhere within 7 steps of Hideout, that would mean the end of my cover.

But for a chance to crack the conspiracy? I had to risk it.

I took a swig from my hip flask to steel myself. As always, I cursed my alcohol-intolerant chinese genes as I swallowed the mouthful of teh-o peng. That did the trick.

I had a bad feeling about Hideout. In my line, you learn to heed your bad feelings. Especially when they involve chio-bus. And Hideout had chio-bu's aplenty. Which made me all the more suspicious. From experience, there were two possibilities:

(a) Missionary was telling the truth; or
(b) It's time to get my annual STD test done again.

I eliminated the second possibility almost immediately. The doctors did mention that, thanks to the antibiotics, my rashes were clearing up well.

It had to be the first. Missionary had to be telling the truth. Which means I had to go.

God help us all.

The Meet

The alley was dark but clean. A part of my brain reminded me that this was Singapore - dirty alleys were illegal, and hence could not exist. I shook my head and took another shot of teh-oh peng to clear it.

I thought I had left that behind me. Apparently not. The BCG scar still itches, and my head's not been clear since the day I shook off Gah-men conditioning. Apparently, the conditioning's deeper than I had ever expected.

All the more reason I needed the answers. And the answers were right in front of me.

Literally.

Missionary flickered in and out of existence. It was most disconcerting. One moment he was standing before me. The next he just disappeared - and I couldn't even remember why I was standing behind Hideout.

I knew a little about Missionary, save that he was a high-ranking civil servant and gay. His little flickering trick was the interaction between two contradictory proclamations - he exists because a minister once acknowledged the existence of gay civil servants. Yet he doesn't exist because Singapore refuses to acknowledge the existence of gay lobby groups, gay rights or gay-dominanted media. Missionary now exists in some terrible in-between world of existence and non-existence.

I once asked Missionary why he calls himself Missionary. His answer - Deep Throat was illegal in Singapore. Apparently, I was not the only one bearing scars.

I summoned my courage to greet him in the Forbidden Tongue.

"Eh, Siao Eh, Hor Bor?"

Missionary hissed a crisp Brit warning "Are you mad?! You'll bring the MDAMen on us! You have no fear of being censored?"

I sighed. You can take the civil servant out of the gah-men...

"Okay, fine. What do you have?" I leaned casually against the side of the alley.

Missionary responded in hushed tones, "Do you know about Blogger.sg?"

Before I could give my usual smart-alecky remarks, Missionary cut in with bitter undertones, "Nothing. You know nothing."

Missionary looked shaken. I stirred. A salty fellow, Missionary does not frighten easy. "Watch out, old chum. It's a trap. There's a mole deep in the Resistance. His code name is Ah-Seng. Watch out for him."

"Ah-Seng? You mean....James Seng?! It can't be! No one would be so dumb to give a person a code-name that's his actual name!"

Missionary smirked bitterly, "No one, except..."

Of course! How could I be so stupid! We know who we're dealing with - to expect originality from them would be foolish!

Missionary dropped a second bomb on me. "I think Ah-Seng's a construct. A droid. A robot specially designed and programmed to infiltrate the Singapore blogger community. I have evidence."

Okay. That -was- a little far-fetched.

Missionary rambled, obviously agitated. "He has to be a robot. He has to be. What kind of a flesh-and-blood man speaks in HTML?!"

I blinked. "Actually, I know lots of geeks who talk like that."

Missionary looked nonplussed. "Ah, but how many people only leave the house when World of Warcraft servers are down for maintanence?"

I facepalmed. "Dude. I do. In fact, I'm here only because it's a Tuesday, and the servers won't be up for another 2 hours."

Missionary was just about ready to launch his retort at my snarky comment when he cocked his head to the side and yelled to me, "The Silencer! He's found us...no wait, he's still tracking us! Run! I'll try to stall..."

The "Eh, you yell like that, confirm kenah track down one!" died in my throat, hushed deader than Singapore's opposition parties. I saw the pool of red spreading in Missionary's chest. Spurred on by my survival instincts and my du-lan-ness of being deprived of laying verbal smackdown, I ran in the direction of Hideout.

If the Silencer had one weakness, it would be his like for Hideout. He would not risk it shutting down. But could I get there in time?

I knew I was doomed. Cos you know, I only got D7 for my Track-and-Field CCA.

-To Be Continued-

Technorati Tags: sgblogconspiracy

If Giants Stand Taller

"If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants."

- Sir Isaac Newton

I just spent a pleasant Saturday night watching ACJC's "Camelot". As a lau chiau, the grandeur of Camelot did not suprise me one bit. Suffice to say, I've seen worse overseas productions brought to Singapore. If ACJC were to go on tour tomorrow, I'd gladly give up my day job to join them as a groupee.

The three centrepieces of the production were nothing short of inspired. Lancelot, played by Jared Kok (whom I've worked with before) depicted the arrogant, convicted yet vulnerable Lancelot with equal parts of passion, skill and comedic timing. Shue, playing Guinevere flowed from young maiden to canny stateswoman to forlorn lover with subtlety and nuance - if you blinked you'd miss it. Leon, playing Arthur, encompassed the essence of the boy-king, idealist-philosopher, and defiant loser against destiny's cruel hand.

There are three others I thought especially noteworthy.

I've worked with Hansel, the actor playing Pellinore. He displayed his growth as an actor with his canny performance of Pellinore. As a bonus he was by far the best singer of the lot (Postscript: Was reminded today he's got some serious vocal training). His comedic timing and stiff upper lip kept the production from taking itself too seriously.

Modred was suitably evil and conniving - an excellent counterpoint to all the goody-goodiness in the play. I've never worked with Razor, the actor - I know him solely by reputation. However, it appears his reputation preceded him. Bonus fact - he appeared to be the only one who was truly comfortable with the repainted bokken they used as stage swords. I suspect he's had some kendo training.

My greatest kudo's however, must go to Lady Anne, a role played by a young actress named Audrey. Lady Anne was not a big role, or did it have many lines, but Audrey made every moment she had on stage count. Her stage presence and excellent delivery enhanced the production in the manner a thread woven deep into a tapestry would - the vibrance of the colour may not show, but the strength lent to the tapestry as a whole was just as important.

In short, Camelot reminded me of what it meant to be ACJC Drama.

Yet, memory plays tricks on the mind. For a few precious moments, with the cast on stage, I heard shadowy voices and saw blurred faces imposing themselves over the young actors and actresses. Faces of former comrades that have sweated and bled on that stage. The ones that have come before. The ones that I stood beside.

I realised after a while that, of all the faces I saw, I did not see my own, nor did I hear my own voice. The humbling bittersweet tang of truth filled my awareness. It was sheer arrogance to think that I could stand among giants. Yet, once, some years ago, a man did stand among giants. Like Audrey, I once tried to hold a tapestry together. Perhaps that is why I identify so much with her performance while simultaneously being humbled by it. She does what I did, but she does it so much better.

On Saturday I have seen the giants of posterity. My chest fills with pride that I call ACJC my alma mater, unworthy as my own performance was. These giants stand tall, occupying far more than I could have reached. Yet, they stand on ground pressed firm, stomped flat, and nourished by the efforts of a mere man, and many other mere men that have come before.

I could not be more proud.

Hiding Out

It seems that the Singapore blogosphere decided to have a good time at Hideout last night. Kudos.

Yes, I knew about this tres chic event. No, I decided not turn up, even though the fanboi I am badly wanted to stalk Singapore Blogging Superstars.

If I turned up, Bad Things will happen.

I kid you not. There are some universal constants. Gravity holds the universe together. Motherhood is a good thing. I cannot be cool. If I become cool, the universe will end. I've even got case examples to prove it.

Case 1

A friend of mine decided to have his farewell celebration at Centro. We had arrived late and we had to queue outside for some time. The week before, I had bought a cool new pair of shoes (i.e they weren't black, leather and Scholls) and even spent an afternoon in a casino in Sydney. Normally, I would not have attended this farewell celebration, but it was a good friend and hey, since I was cool twice this week already, why not a third time? So I joked with my friends about my being so cool this week, and shared a few giggles.

Famous last words.

We waited outside for almost an hour before said friend appeared, said something to the bouncer outside, and got us all in. I didn't take more than seven steps into Centro proper before the unthinkable happened.

The music stopped. The lights stopped flashing. Uh oh.

Centro kenah raided that night. The friends I had been joking with gave sour faces - and promptly banned me from ever entering another nightclub with them. One suggested that I should blackmail other nightclubs with my attendance.

What a kharmic kick in the ass.

Case 2

My wife and I have a favourite restaurant off King's Arcade, on Bukit Timah. We used to visit it fairly often. We liked the food, we liked the decor, and we liked the proprietress. It was a wonderful chill-out place.

One day, some months after the events in Case 1, I made the mistake of proclaiming how cool the restaurant was to my wife.

The restaurant shut down a week later. The proprietress explained that there wasn't enough business in the area to keep things going.

Hideout

I can't turn up for blogging meets! They are too cool! If I turn up I'll be cool too! This can't happen! The universe counts on me to be uncool! There's no telling what will happen after! Hideout may close down! A*Star may issue a public apology! Or horror of horrors...

Singapore Bloggers may actually start supporting Straits Times Online!

Technorati Tags: Singapore, Blogosphere

Picture Worth a Thousand Giggles

Saw an advertisement published on Today. It is an advertisement on a National Management Competition sponsored by the Singapore Institute of Management. I thought the picture was incredibly appropriate for our national style of management.


Notice where the kick is aimed?

Music I Love

Writing about Berkeley's harder than I thought. Not having a digital camera on hand makes it harder. Nice online pictures of Berkeley are damnably hard to find. Suffice to say, everything I've seen online doesn't do the town justice. It's beautiful and charming. It's got personality, vibrance and intelligence. It's home of some seriously good kebabs, tacos and, believe it or not, Thai food.

Hence, finding myself wholly unable to describe my week in Berkeley, I decided to distract myself by vandalising Slinky's blog. Slinky responds with a taunt about my ignorance of kewl bandz, and I now feel obliged to disprove her - and in the process affirm my worst fears about my well-affirmed geekdom.

Why do I feel obliged to disprove my ignorance? Why, to prove that geeks do listen to rock bands!

There's only one problem. My music taste can only be described as absolutely weird. I've gone through a cantopop phase, a chee-nah-pop phase, a German Industrial Rock phase (I kid you not), a 60's rock and roll phase, a '70's disco phase (oh the humanity!) and just about everything in between.

However, here's a sample of all-time favourite soundtracks. Let's start with the mainstream stuff.

U2 - Just about the whole of Joshua Tree and "One"

"Have you come here for forgiveness?
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus?
To the lepers in your head"

- One, U2

Okay. So they suck now. So they should have retired years ago. But U2 in it's prime was more than music. It was poetry set to a tune. How can you not love lyrics like that? It was angsty, mournful and above all, it was Bono.

"Time After Time"

There. I admitted it. :shamefaced:

I love this song. I have 3 different versions of this song - Cyndi Lauper's, an acapella version by Rockappella and a jazz version by Ella Fitzgerald (at least I think it's her). The music isn't sophisticated - it's elegantly simple, yet raw and honest at the same time.

Aerosmith - "Big Ones" Album, "Walk this Way"

Okay. Another shamefaced admission. I love Aerosmith. I discovered their stuff pretty late in my life, so I can't even blame teenaged rebeliousness. Heck, the only thing that didn't suck about the movie "Be Cool" was that duet version of "Cryin'". Now -that's- kickass.

Bob Marley

Seriously good shit - though the lyrics take some research to understand properly. Bob Marley derived a lot of inspiration for his lyrics from Rastafarian beliefs. No it doesn't just involve smoking pott and wearing multicoloured belts. Go google "Ras Tafari". You won't regret it.

Queenshryce

Who?!

Okay, just kidding. I guess this is as good a bridge between my mainstream tastes and my non-mainstream tastes as you can get. Queenshryce is blardee good. It's German, it's got some really good axe play, it's got two dots over the "e" at the end of their name. How cool is that?!

*****

Now for my not-so-mainstream stuff. Or rather, not so English-speaking mainstream stuff. Some of the stuff here would probably be considered mainstream to a Chinese-speaker.

Beyond

Another late discovery. I didn't liked the band when I was first introduced to it in Secondary School. Yet, when I was reintroduced to it a couple of months ago, I was instantly hooked. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what their lyrics meant, but believe me, it was worth the effort. Tightly crafted, well suited for the music, and their lead has a beautifully haunting voice.

I'm willing to go out on a limb and consider them comparable to "Queen" in terms of rock anthem-ness. Heck, their lead singer died young too. Scary.

Songs I like from Beyond: 海阔天空, 大地, 光辉岁月

兩忘烟水里

Most people under 50 and not chinese will probably not have a clue what this song is, just by looking at the title. However, if you are chinese, about 30 (or older), and watched old TVB martial arts flicks you'd probably know this song, even though you've probably not heard it in over 20 years.

Give up yet? It was the theme song of the original version of Tian Long Ba Bu (天龙八部). I found out recently that the original singers of this song weren't even professionals - they were employees of TVB.

Say Yes - Chage and Aska

Another theme song, from the old Japanese serial "101 Proposals". I never watched the series, but I'd always listen to the theme song when it played. Forget the wussy English-Translated version, the japanese version fits phonetically better into the tune.

Flying Pickets, King's Singers, Swingle Singers, Rockapella, Budak Pantai

I've a serious love for acapella music. The groups I like are too numerous to mention, but these are the favourite-est of the lot. If you have a chance, listen to "When You're Young and In Love" by the Flying Pickets. It's heart-melting.

I'll leave this list for now. Hope I've sparked off a few good memories with my list of songs.

An Old Scar

With time comes injuries. Some never go away. Many form scars. Pressing a finger on the scar brings a memory of the pain that caused it - a phantom of remembered pain if you will.

To Ms Chng and the Straits Times, the recent debacle of portraying Singapore men as wimps has pressed hard on a very old scar. I am willing to give you both the benefit of doubt here. It's not because you've earnt it. It's because I, too, know how difficult it can be to stand up and say something different when authority says otherwise. Even when your life is at risk.

Yet, -even if- I give the benefit of the doubt, the fact that the following quote was used as a defence disturbs me greatly

"I said “they are fine until they enter national service”, in response to a question about whether I find Singapore men whiny. My point was that the only occasions I noticed whining was when they were talking about their national service experiences. When asked what they complained about, I said “minute things” as I did not wish to expatiate on what they had shared."

If indeed, Ms Chng, your version of events is accurate, then I must ask - why was your response about national service? There are a million different ways you could have answered the question posed to you - why national service?

I can certainly empathise with your response. I, too, know female friends who don't care and couldn't care about men who talk incessantly about the million minute things they have to do in NS. They can't understand why, after going through all that and finally being free of it, we still talk about these small things.

It is because NS is too big.

Like blind men trying to describe an elephant, the only recourse we have are to describe the events that one feels. The rope of the elephant's tail. The fan of the elephant's ear. The trunk of the elephant's leg. We describe minute things because the totality is too big, too alien for words to describe.

How does one describe the sense of isolation of being in the army? That your entire existence now consists of something you hate? Something you cannot get away from?

What can you say to inunciate the pain of forcing away your loved ones because your life is now something they don't understand?

What words are there to describe a mortal fear for your life? Or the heartache of watching a comrade waste his life? Or realising that while NS ends, the scars of NS will forever be imprinted in your psyche?

How many forget the heartbreak of their girlfriends walking away because they couldn't share their universe?

How many?

Ms Chng, you are not unique. Like many other well-educated Singaporean females, you believe that your life is your own, your future is within your control, and that there's nothing beyond your grasp. In other words, your experiences have reinforced your Type-A personality.

And because your experiences have reinforced this world-view, you just cannot understand that a Y-Chromosome away lies a universe where our destiny is not our own, where we can find no welcome precisely because of this great and growing divide.

If I find no welcome in Singapore, why shouldn't I break all bonds and leave?

Technorati Tags: Singapore, NS

Found an Apartment

Again, typing this from an overpriced Internet cafe somewhere in Berkeley. We've managed to hunt down a few apartments - and we've found one we really like. It's in a good neighbourhood. It's got the added advantage of being neighbours with a -really- cute shih tzu puppy.

More on this when I get back, I promise.

Downtime

I apologise for the upcoming scheduled lack of updates from over the next week. I'll be flying to San Francisco to finalise my lodging and then to KL to say goodbye to relatives. I -may- have internet access, but I can't be sure.

So to my readers, I'll be back in a week. In the meantime, take care.

Beyond the Beyond

原諒我這一生不羈放縱愛自由
也會怕有一天會跌倒
背棄了理想　誰人都可以
那會怕有一天只你共我

- 海闊天空, Beyond

Please forgive me, for I will never be bridled,
I love my freedom too much,
Although I fear that one day I too will fall.
Betraying your dreams is too easy to do,
and in betrayal, I fear we will have nothing but ourselves.

- Translated from 海闊天空 by Beyond

Reading Miyagi's, Mr Brown's and Sheena's stories about my parents have left me releasing that this would be the last Mother's Day I'd be able to celebrate in person with my mom, for a long time to come.

No, my mom's not as mean as Miyagi's. Nor as...mean...as Sheena's. But she is every bit as courageous as Mr Brown's wife. From her humble beginnings as a kampong girl, she fought her way up from being a simple accountant to being on the board of directors in a KLSE listed company. From being completely unable to cook, she's now a master chef.

She brought up two boys, who love her dearly. Two boys who learnt how to think for themselves, stand on their own two feet and take shit from nobody. She's given everything she has to ensure that her two boys want for nothing.

It is her success with us that's the source of her misery today. You see, I think she raised me too well. I'll never be happy yoked to someone else's dreams or ideas of what my life should be. I need to find for myself what my dream is - and it's only by leaving that I can do so.

She did the bravest thing she's ever done. She's letting me go, even though she'll miss me terribly. She's letting me go knowing that there's a good chance I won't be back.

Thank you, and I'm sorry.

Friends

People who have no respect for you but hang around you anyway.

- Apocalyptic Wen

Over teh tonight, Apocalyptic Wen demands answers about why I answer everyone elses comments but his. After asking about the chio bu on the poster of ACJC's production of Camelot of course.

And me voicing my complaints that she's too young for him.

And him not caring.

AW: "Eh, how come you never respond to my comments?"

Me: "Cos your comments don't dignify remarks."

AW: "Wow! Such disrespect! I never knew you cared!"

I have weird friends.

A Shameless Plug

A while ago, I wrote about saying goodbye to my alma mater, ACJC. It's with the sense of pride and nostalgia that all proud ACSians have that I present to you...


Tickets purchase details here

The funds are going to build a Center of Performing Arts for ACJC. It's something I'd like to have enjoyed during my days in ACJC, but if I can't, the least I can do is to ensure that my juniors do.

Local Food

As a frequent visitor to Kuching and an avowed foodie, I had been fascinated for a long time about the differences between Singapore and Kuching hawker food. I suspect the similarity in food can be accounted by the population demographics. Like Singapore, Kuching has a large chinese population. Also like Singapore, Hokkiens, Teochews and Hok-Chews (all provinces in the southern part of China) form the largest segment of the Chinese population.

There are, however, some very distinct differences, that mere demographics cannot account for.

Gan Lao Mian and Kolo Mee ("干捞面")

The chinese ideograms are the same for "Gan Lao Mian" and "Kolo Mee". The differences are phonetic - the former being Mandarin, and the latter being Hokkien. The phrases, however, connote different things altogether.

In Singapore, Gan Lao Mian refers to any sort of noodles that is not served together with soup. The soup is usually given in a seperate bowl. The "dry" noodles are usually prepared with soy sauce or oyster sauce for taste.



A popular variant of Gan Lao Mian - Bak Chor Mee, or Minced Pork Noodles

In Kuching, however, Kolo Mee is prepared very differently. The key is the condiment. Kolo Mee is usually prepared with a dash of pork lard and bits of fried garlic. The lard brings out the flavour of the garlic and enhances the taste.

Needless to say, Kolo Mee is both tastier and more unhealthy.


Health x Taste = Constant

Roti Prata and Roti Canai

Roti Prata is a popular Malay dish in Singapore. It's essentially a discus of dough that's been tossed around, then fried to give the dough some crispiness. It's eaten with curries.

This may come as a suprise to Singaporeans who do not frequent Malaysia, but according to my wife, the term "Roti Prata" does not exist in Malaysia. It's actually called Roti Canai, and the preparation method's slightly different.

In Malaysia, the dough is actually not fried to crispiness. It's fried to soft firmness, then given a few whacks on the sides to fluff it up, then possibly fried again for plebians who like crispy canai (which is apparently a distinctly Singaporean thing).



Laksa

The dish "Laksa" refers to a dish of rice noodles served in spicy gravy. Again the preparation method in Singapore and Kuching differ - most significantly on the gravy used.

In Singapore, actual curry is used. Because the curry is rich, pieces of tau pok (fried bean curd) are used to soak up the gravy. The noodles used tend to be thick, about the diameter of spaghetti. It's often served with fish cake and cockles.


Singapore Laksa

Kuching Laksa is different. There's a special paste Kuching-ites use for their laksa. It's very much spicier and more fragrant than Singapore laksa. It's not often served with coconut milk either, so the gravy is less rich. The preferred type of noodles that are used tends to be vermicilli - which soaks up the gravy more efficiently.


Kuching Laksa

That's all for the day. Hope I didn't make you too hungry. Heh.

P.S:



Technorati Tags: Singapore, Kuching, Food

The Reason I've Not Been Posting

World of Warcraft recently implemented a system which rewards players for taking out other players. It's called the "Honour System".

I personally see nothing honourable about it. It's turned most settlements on the World of Warcraft universe into Kosovo's and Somalia's. Especially the (P)layer (V)ersus (P)layer servers.

So peace-loving me had to migrate to a new server. And create a new character.

Here he is. Meet Pastafarian, my Troll Shaman.



Troll also got beng okay? Donch pray pray!

Coolest thing about being a shaman is the ability to transform into a Ghost Wolf.



Wolf on Full Moon

I did mention I am a geek right?

Almost Infamous Special Edition - Death of a Gentleman

The first and only time I've been on the inside of the Istana was during Pre-U Sem. Yes, it was the same Pre-U Seminar where I asked nasty questions and hung out with the Fox.

Being the unmannered, uncultured plebians that we were, we had been asked to arrive at the Istana early. We were told to give then-President Wee grave respect befitting his station. We were told to address him as "Mr President, Sir". We were not told the horrifying consequences of our failure to address him thus. It was certainly effective.

About an hour after the final strains of "Heaven Knows" was performed impromptu at the lawn of the Istana by yours truly, President Wee appeared. Needless to say, everyone fought to appear as intelligent and poised as they could. School reputation on the line leh!

With so many of us tripping ourselves up to impress him, it was only a matter of time before someone made a faux pas.

"President Wee", the poor chap said, then stumbled to correct himself.

"Mr Wee". Sniggers

Nervous tension. "I mean...Mr President..." and as an afterthought, "Sir".

Against expectations, the Ettiquette SWAT Team did not descend in force to punish the heathen. Mr Wee smiled indulgently, eyes twinkling, and broke into a chuckle. Not a berating one. The kind that invites you to chuckle with him.

The tension suddenly disappeared. It was amazing.

Mr Wee's family has my deepest condolensces, as does Singapore. We have lost a great man and a true gentleman.


Farewell Mr Wee. You will be missed.