Thinking back, I believe I have not taken notice of any particularly good local production, not because I bear some sort of grudge against Mediacorp and similar. I must admit productions such as "Chu1 Lu4" (that was many years back) actually successfully coaxed me into returning home on time.

During the past few years, I have resorted to purchasing bricks of HK TV Serial VCDs since channel 5 and 8 could not anymore satisfy my psychological hunger for productions encompassing good cinematography and language. I sometimes cannot comprehend the intentions of the local producers. What's with all that 3D effects (honestly they are no better than FF7)? Are you trying to assure us that we are not too technologically backward, in any case you have conviced me otherwise. And looking at recent productions, neither the English nor Mandarin used seems to be able to put the production on international standards. Singlish is ok though, sounds pretty good in the Jack Neo films.

To the producers of local TV Serials-

1) Please send your artistes for some training in lauguage skills, don't put the country to shame.

2) Please refrain from producing anything other than Singlish productions, until your artistes (and scriptwriters too) can speak without sounding too constipated.

3) maybe the focus should be placed on developing Singlish, let's give us Singaporeans a chance to develop something to call our own. We not good at using any single language, but we're quite the master of mixing them up in a comical way.

Well of course the government would never approve of such a thing as "Developing Singlish", since they all pride themselves as being oh-so-good in English. Well we could adopt the following replacement strategy -

1) Broadcast only the News, and do it repeatedly.

2) Fine people for the usage of Singlish. Nobody would say no since we've all gotten too used to fines.

Bloody hell I have lost track of what I am talking about... nevermind, my brained is quite drained for today...

Today, in honour of the most sophisticated transport system our dear government has put in place for us, I dedicated 2 hours and 45 minutes to a wholesome experience with SBS and SMRT, from some ulu place in Hougang to the god-forsaken Boon Lay (Yeah, sadly I work there…)

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! 2 Hours 45 Mins!!! If you break that duration down across the mileage traveled, you would soon realized that the average speed I was traveling at 25.45km per hour. That’s slower than riding a bicycle, and to prove that my trip made on an average mountain bike takes about 1 hour 20 mins.

Somebody suggested I get myself a car, now let me list down the reasons why getting a car is completely NOT an option to replace public transport:

1) Car’s here are freaking expensive! Plus COE and Road Tax and all that shit, you’ll probably be able to date 2 girls at the same time for the amount of financial commitment.

2) You will never get the kick out of driving here, cos every 100m you’ll be pleasantly greeted by a traffic light.

3) You’ll have to wake up at some inhuman timing in the morning to avoid the traffic jam on PIE (Permanently Immobile Experience).

So now that you realize cars are not so different from buses and MRTs, let’s analyse the scariest part of this:

You spend say 3 hours on the road a day trying to get through some sleep inducing traffic, that equates to 1/8 of your life, and say you live for 80 years, that’s 10 years of this shit! There goes 10 years of your miserable little life, not to forget you sleep for 8 hours a day, that’s another 26 years gone. So effectively that’s 36 years gone… ugh…

In the following paragraphs i shall descride a management team i have met some time back, and till now still manages to step on my little scorpio tail once in a while. And please don't ask me where to find such a team, cos i think after reading the illustrations it would not be too difficult to determine from which organisation is such weeds thrive and perpetuate.

The breakdown of my understanding of the team members are as follows:

Department Head: Someone who cares only for his own promotion within the organisation and how many points he would score to ascertain his position. He demands a high standard of performance from his surbordinates, but does not keep up to his own standards.

Human Resource Manager: Someone who's really good at sucking the cock of the Dept Head Dry and give him a thousand orgasms. And some who consistently does what he is good at and seeks to improve on it.

Information and Communications Manager: A blur fuck... Diplomatically cunning at times but self interest still simmers obviously.

Operations Manager: Strides with a childish mannerism and is hardly able to contain his excitement when delegated a new task. Excitement translates into anxiety and then to frustration, which is vented by enslaving his surbordinates and finally turning them into whimpering dogs. An overall uncool guy.

Logistics and Finance Manager: He doesn't care about everybody else. Does his work well though.

Operations Executive 1: A constant slacker, an ostracised worker and a demoralised slow climber... in summary, a pitiful sight to behold.

Operations Executive 2: A self indulgent political hero-to-be, or so he thinks. Over assertive and can be quite narcissistic at times, but is not handsome at all. Shows signs of power hunger on rare occasions when nobody is looking.

Operations Executive 3: I really respect this guy. He's good at what he does and sets an example for the rest, unfortunately, he has been politically removed for a moment... for whatever reason it may be.

Operations Support Executive: This guy is a really nice guy, and a great friend to be with. Has taught me quite a bit. Unfortunately he is too soft and somehow the Dept Head keeps suspecting that his might have a craving for the similar sex.

Put together, this team stands out from the rest through constant display of the following traits. (Please note that the following are general comments, and that there are always still a few good men).

1) Everyone works for himself. There is little bottom up ideas flowing through the pipe.

2) The department runs on the basics of a manarchy, which is somehow outdated to my humble knowledge.

3) Disillusionment and general dissent sets in at the foundational layers of the department, and this problem is never addressed.

4) Everyone has something bad to say about the department when they leave.

I emphasize that this is only my personal thoughts... but i thought it would be good for all of us to sit back and look at what we are doing and the repercussions of our actions once in a while, and to see if we are still in tune with the rest of the world. Afterall, it's a small world.

Loneliness Kills, Intoxicates and Drives a person NUTS; the saying goes that the fear for loneliness can drive a person to give anything to be part of a group, for the sake of acceptance, even if it means taking the wrong path... and that is so true. I have once been lonely too, and in the recent weeks, I reminiscence on my past as i sit quietly in the presence of a lonely acquiantance.

Today I undertook a rather adventurous escapade, in tune with the festive havoc, and together with two other restless souls (ex-kayaking pals of mine), we decided to catch the movie "Fighter in the Wind".

After spending a good 20 bucks each travelling from Cineleisure to Shaw House to Shaw Towers, we concluded sheepishly that the show was not showing. As 3 traumatised souls hopped onto another cabby (not even knowing why), my good friend with goldfish eyes decided it would be fun to try to raid the house of one of my other friends who claims to own a DVD version of the "Fighter in the Wind". Maybe he was inspired by his 2 1/2 years in commandos and seem to think raiding a guys house on the second day of CNY would somehow improve his tactical proficiency.

Anyways, we cabbed to Boon Lay (Bloody hell that was damn freakin far lor), and tried to propose to my poor victim friend the following conditions:

1) Bring down the DVD and we'll fuck off

or

2) Bring down some mandarin oranges cos we didn't bring any. During CNY, international law states that all married adults who are threatened by anyone holding 2 mandarin oranges are obliged to surrender a red packet of cash or kind.

The result was neither

My friend came down and invited us up, even though we were not armed with mandarin oranges. He even allowed us to raid his house of food and drinks, and while we still didn't have any oranges, his parents still surrendered the red packets...

The 3 terrorists were terrorised by such an act of kindness they all opted to burn in hell for 2 seconds each, haha.

Morals of the story-

1) Never jio everyone out to a movie that ain't showing. You'll look like a cock and your friends will hate you for making them waste time and money. Bad friends might even ask for a refund.

2) Don't join commandos as they feed you with bad terrorist ideas, which you might use against good friends of yours.

3) Don't stay in Boon Lay, everyone who has to cab there will have to pay a tonne so nobody will visit you unless they want to rob you. Then again, it's not worth robbing a guy in Boon Lay cos the trip there would probably cost more than you can recuperate.

4) Always go out with a few mandarin oranges during CNY.

I recently spied my two younger brothers playing this game called "Sims 2", and in my little curiousity to uncover the hypnotic secrets to the game, I made a mild attempt to start playing it myself, and walla! I have come to the conclusion that this is the most sicko, disgusting software creation, ugh!

For those unfamiliar with the setup of the game, I shall provide some insight as to how the game is operated, here goes:

This game allows you to create and run characters to your liking, dictate their looks and dress code, and operate them to working in a regular virtual society, decide on their marriage and death and stuff like that.

However, the game interface does not allow any "out-of-the-box" actions, meaning to say your character can only undertake the path of a normal civilian. Your character will find a job and tart working day in day out, while you will have to operate that routine of waking up > brush the teeth > go to work > come back and slack in front of the TV set > sleep >wake up the next day, and be thrilled when you character earns enough money to buy a home accessory.

What kind of FUCK game is this!!! Have we not had enough of this mundane day in day out routines in our reals lives? Must the creators of this game continue to perpetuate the sadness of reality in the minds of the not-so-cynical-yet younger population of the world? Are you trying to teach our children that getting a new sofa after a months routine work is really something worth an orgasm?

I walk over to my brother at the other computer and he seems rather pleased at the new flower pots he added to his character's house. He doesn't get bored running the routines and seeing the characters do the same thing over and over again. At this sight, I am stupified...

We are the citizens of a bloody first world nation! Why is it our innermost desires (I believe such games reflect to a very accurate extent our innermost desires and cravings) still revolve around the last 2 tresholds of Maslow's Hierachy of Needs? - Subsistence and Stability. What happened to Social Needs, Self Esteem and Self Actualisation? I truly marvel at the way this socity continues to beat in monotone.

Is this why people go clubbing? To hear a beat slightly different from that miserable one they play in their real lives? Wait! They don't feel routines are suffocating, not as long as they get a few candies from Life once in a while.

Well but then again, if i were to look on the brighter side of things, if these monotone lovers were all somehow gone, who would be doing the menial jobs? who would be filling out all the bhoring posts so that those who seek more could do so without worry of clean roads and safe streets.

Oh thank you! Thank you all so much! SMOOCH! (In a Jim-Carrey-In-The-Mask constipated grin)

Oh yes, it has been a long time since I got angry. Let’s make it clear first. There’s a distinct difference between getting angry and showing it, and here I refer to the internal emotional build-up of generally negative feelings.

I’ve been having this horrible cough, flu and fever ever since the 2 coconuts. I believe I have mentioned that episode before. Woke up this morning in a blurry state and guess what, I heard the most welcoming greeting a half-dead patient would ever expect to receive. The whole event went something like that…

The whole conversation was done in Mandarin and this is the best translation I can provide.

My Dad: “His relentless coughing is going to get the germs spreading and why is he moving around as if he is trying to pollute every corner of the house?”

Note – I merely moved from my bedroom to the living room for some ventilation.

(I was quite irritated but managed to somehow swallow it. But I somehow figured my folks weren’t too happy with my relentless coughing, so I thought I might as well get changed and head out for a stroll and some fresh air)

As I was leaving…

Me: “Hey, I’m going out and I don’t think I can join you guys for the dinner tonight in my infectious state”

My Dad: “Eh, if you are going to take my earlier comment personally, I can’t help it, cos what I stated was a fact”

Me: “Relax, I wasn’t taking it personally. But I thought there would be a little heartache if I remained. Anyways I need some fresh air”

My Dad: “You know it’s really your fault for not seeing a doctor? Your camp has a Medical Officer…”

Me: “Please understand that I have been posted to a new camp just a few days ago and it wouldn’t be vary nice for me to report sick during the first week, plus I have some important work to finish”

My Dad: “What’s wrong with reporting sick if you are sick. Nobody would suspect you are a ‘tuang king’, of course unless you really are…”

I was lost for words for a while, while thinking what the fuck he was trying to imply. Nevertheless, I chose to restrain that counterstatement that was already rapidly creeping up that throat of mine.

My Dad: “At least you could go see a private doctor or go to the polyclinic”

Me: “Private Docs are expensive and polyclinics will make the patient wait so long it probably worsens your condition at the end of the day”

My Dad: (shakes his head in disapproval, as if feeling I have totally wronged the polyclinics)

My Dad: “Well you know your cough disturbs your brother at night and if you see a doctor you might take 3 days to recover instead of 5, in that way we can all suffer less”

My Mum: “Well you could tell me what illness you have so that I could give you a prescription”

My Dad: “Yes, you can ask her”

My Mum: “Well it must be because of your smoking habits again. Remember there was a day when you did not smoke. Your lungs are now trying to clear the dirt out that’s why you are coughing…” (And she continues to act as if she is a doctor and starts to “professionally” describe the root of the problem)

I was getting really irritated already…

Me: “Mum, please stop pounding me with all this theory of yours. I’m not exactly so ill-informed that I will buy your smokescreen. Yes I did stop smoking for a day, but that was because I was too sick to smoke, and prior to that I was already coughing. The cough is due to the consumption of 2 Thai coconuts, which are cold in nature. As such my cough does not couple up with phlegm”

My Mum: “Well if you choose to mistake all my goodwill again….”

I was thinking: “Goodwill my ass. Who does not know your bronto-sized ego, taking every chance to show off that little bit of healthy lifestyle knowledge you learnt from god knows where, and then labelling all your intentions as goodwill, as if you were some saintly being who’s so divine it is always the other person who’s mistaken your oh so goodwill”

I thought I was only thinking, but no, I think I sputtered all that out while trying to suppress a horrible headache…

My Mum: (Trying to blink innocently) “I don’t know what is the meaning of divine…”

Me: “Oh come on” (You claim to read up so much on Christianity and you don’t? Total bollocks!)

My Mum: “I really don’t know… My English is not so good”

Damn I hate it when she somehow gets nibbed in an argument and uses this All Lamers Club evasion technique. It’s like…. Err… just pure LAME!

The “lecture” continued for about 10 minutes and my dad suddenly took out a box and started flipping for some Chinese prescription as if he was some ancient bomoh eager to find the correct item for a big time sales pitch.

My Dad: “Take this…” and careless dumps the bottle of I-don’t-know-what on the table.

I struggled in my mind whether or not to pick up the bottle or to just leave. In my perspective, this was how I saw the whole situation:

1) I know I’m sick and I really can’t help it. I haven’t asked for any care and concern whatsoever, but at the very least you needed not make comments slandering my presence as an intended attempt to engage in biomedical warfare against my own family.

2) I’m neither a tuang nor MC king, and please stop using outdated army terminology of YOUR era. Welcome to the 21st century!

3) When you are sick, both of you! You go wailing over the slightest headache and demand attention from everyone. Everyone tries to accommodate, we all function at near stealth mode, and nobody makes comments like “go do something about it so we may all suffer less”. Can’t you be a little more socially aware???

4) You give me all this crap in the morning for something not even my fault, and now that you throw a bottle of medicine on the table you expect me to crawl over and pick it up like a dog, then be all demure about it and act as if I was so gratified to have received a bottle of medicine from your majesty sir, fuck you!

I decided to again swallow my thoughts and say the following statement:

“Dad, I understand that you mean no harm saying all this and so do your actions. But if you were to look at things from my perspective, to take all this trashing from you early in the morning, then expecting me to just be silent about it and pick up the bottle is a little demeaning a treatment? I just hope you could once in a while see things from the point of view of others. I will take the medicine and I thank you for it”

Only half the statement was said. Whatever after “I just hope…” was drowned by his yelling: “YOU WOLF HEART DOG LUNG FELLA! IT IS THE WAY YOU TREAT MY KIND HEARTEDNESS! THIS IS WHAT I GET IN RETURN FOR MY CARE AND CONCERN! I TELL YOU NOW, I DON’T OWE YOU ANYTHING! YOU OWE ME!”

At this point I found myself slowly slipping out of control. I wasn’t sure anymore if it was just rage of pure hatred that filled every inch of my nerve system, but my half-dead body was suddenly filled with the energy as if I was awaiting the horn for a kayak race.

It was at this moment that my grandmother shot out from nowhere and tried to stop me, or I really wouldn’t know if it would all turn out into bloody New Year’s Eve. My dad did not seem to know how to shut up, and continued with his ranting, so I yelled back too, well at least some of the energy had to be released.

I remember saying something like “If you were me how would you feel!” and guess what? He replied: “but you’re sick and the germs are spreading and it is a FACT!”

I’d really like to answer: “That’s your problem. You only see facts. You never see the feelings of others”

I left the house subsequently…



Looking back at the incident brought me to a more analytical sate of mind, and while I was on my way home i related the incident to this taxi driver who sported the air’s not so different to that of my folks. He readily agreed to the fact that my dad was wrong, but said it is a CHINESE TRADITION that the junior family member would have to give in to the senior, as this is a form of respect, blah blah blah….

Most of my generation, those raised in the families who still cling on to this culture would be able to take to heart this situation, I believe.

The traditional Chinese belief dictates that the family has to follow a hierarchy based solely on seniority, and that regardless of reason, the senior has to be strictly obeyed. And if the senior were to be wrong and realises it, it is not his/her responsibility to remedy the situation, but the junior’s responsibility to and initiate conversation. The seniors mode of expressing that he was wrong would then be to accept the conversation.

Now personally, I think such culture is just plain BULLSHIT! Do not mistake me for one who despises his own culture, a western kid whatsoever. I can assure all readers here that not only do I have no problem blending into the Beijing population as one of them, I have a pretty decent understanding to Chinese history and tribal cultures.

Disagreeing with such culture is by no means a way of expressing contempt of the Chinese teachings. It is merely a logical deduction based on the era in which we all live and breathe today. This society now values meritocracy over seniority, and while we all still show our seniors the respect as a senior, this should not transpire into a means for them to override reason with their bloody age. It just doesn’t make any god damn sense!

People who continue to demand respect for their seniority are cowards clinging on to the scraps of a outdated tradition because should there some the day they have to live without it, they will perhaps realise they are nothing more that a bunch of unreasonable, uneducated, illogical fucks. God save these people of the past, and you better act fast, or I shall take pleasure in removing them entirely from existence.

The irrelevant should be discarded… Cheers

For starters, I have absolutely no idea why I have taken to doing something I would have pretty much condemned as i do towards institutional bureaucrasy and child labour, but heck, if this were to be some decent means for me to vent that pent up anger/frustration buried beneath the goody, diplomatic mask I wear everyday, if this verbal vomit is therapeutic, so be it.

This weekend has been totally put to waste. I was so planning to do something constuctive, so planning to... till some weirdo virus had to get my throat after a miserable 2 coconuts, and award me with some dementor-kiss-like fever. I'm sure the majority of the working population (we will comment on how pitiful a lifestyle each one of them leads later) would concur with the pain of having to lose the chance for a break in between two hamster-on-the-wheel like weeks.

Alright, before I forget, let's talk about the pitiful majority first. In fact, for a good while i have forgotten the existence of this huge lot of army ants populating our beautiful planet called earth. I even taught myself to look at the more beatiful side of these humble creations of god, but alas, the illusionary cloak would have to remove itself one day, but to reveal the antonishing, thunderously loud fact that - ANTS ARE STILL ANTS!

I have been working in an organisation known to many as the Singapore Armed Forces, more popularly known as Serve And Fuckoff. Disillusionment set in during the months following the initial Incubation Period of BMT (Basic Military Training) and OCS (Officer Cadet School), as life transited into the Post-Incubation Period

*Incubation period - A period when nobody thinks

*Post-Incubation Period - A period when you find out that nobody thinks

A recent allocation of jobs had me ended up in this place where perhaps no-one in the organisation would hope to be associated with - The NDP Office (National Day Parade), and i found myself existing as the only enthusiastic soul in a graveyard of soulless drifters. "Wasn't organising NDP supposed to be something to take pride in? Wasn't your job, your profession supposed to be somthing you execute with passion?" I exclaimed in mild exasperation to the clockwork gnomes in my office. Most ticked past in their programmed routines, while one, i presumed short-circuited a few days back, turned around and answered, "Let's get it over and done with".

As the fact that i was working amongst clockwork gnomes sunk in, I made a last flailing effort to make a few bold suggestions to spice up this year's celebrations (bold only in a capacity i have sufficient expertise, and experience to handle), only to be promptly rewarded with a dashing "Let's not add trouble to what we already have!"

A little pondering would help us zoom out into a situational overview of this "disease". Why can't we find the enthusiasm in SAF fellas as we can in school children? Why can we only find such enthusiasm in those doing "media publicity" (a substitution to the fantasies a lonely soul conjures for himself in his flea infested camp bunk with FHM and his leftie). The answer is simple - No refresher, No incentives and No brainer

No Refresher: NDP is a year in year out event, and the same people are made to repeat this routine every year. Tell me, do you get excited taking the same bus to work everyday? or using the same brand of shampoo every night? The answer's rhethoric

No Incentives: Does SAF pay you an ounce more your a good NDP? well you might get a few more dollars to your performance bonus, provided you tread carefully for the rest of the year (the weightage of the whip in SAF is 10x that of the carrot).

No Brainer: SAF openly encourages their employees to be the thinking soldier... blah blah blah, but does all that chain of command shit allow us to effect our thoughts? Thinking is no doubt good, but without execution of ideas, it is more likely we all end up in mental constipation. If I have to spend 1 week gathering data and information and typing a proposal, 3 weeks to get the proposal to the agenda for discussion by the main committee, 3 weeks to obtain the answer (and the answer might even be a simple NO), in addition having to break up my planning to Plan A and B just so that i can react to the YES or NO after 7 weeks, and also as welfare for commanders so that my kanchiong spider direct boss from dying of a heart attack along the weeks of anticipation, WOULD I STILL BOTHER TO SUBMIT A PROPOSAL, WOULD I EVEN BOTHER TO THINK OF ONE?

I'm tired now, this muttering shall be continued tomorrow...