we have moved

projectmaya has now moved to typepad. just clickie on this text anywhere and you will be magically transported to my new site. please visit me. i am lonely. also if you have me on the rss thingee, can change also.

projectmaya moves

projectmaya has now moved to typepad. just clickie on this text anywhere and you will be magically transported to my new site. please visit me. i am lonely.

moving soon

i am currently attempting to move my blog to typedpad. so maybe no post for a day or tow. yeah like it matters. i did not even post for ages and never gave a reason. anyway, i shoudl be doing my work. see you soon

trumpets* are meant to be blown

* trumpet sponsored by velle

between a rock and a hard place

above is a picture of a rock. why a picture of a rock you say?

well well, let me tell you. this is no ordinary rock. its a special rock. its a rock that some son of a rancid harlot, whose wrinkled member i pray contracts necrotizing fasciitis and whose children i hope turn out to be scatological necrobestialiac junkies, threw through my window at home. thats right, through my window. breaking the window and showering me with broken glass. oh what i could do to you with a baseball bat only patrick bateman could imagine.

so this wonderful glass downpour culminated the amazing string of badluck i have had recently.

another piece of badluck. i am no longer that sure abput my relationship with apple. i have been a huge fan of apple for the past year after i made the switch. i have recommended it to many friends and students. i dont think i will do that anymore. and here's why.

i dropped my lappy. far enough, thats my bad. it was connected to the internet via the ethernet port. and that broke the ethernet port. its buggered. so far still my bad. first no one could actually tell me how much it would cost to repair. finally when i got a figure a number, i thought of just leaving my lappy at the apple center and walking away.

lets just think about this.
+ a new ibook 14" 1.3 GHz is A$ 2,049.00 [education price is A$1,843.60].
+ Mine is a 14" 933 MHz about a year old and with the extra RAM and extreme wireless card total cost was ard $2300.
+ to repair the ethernet port it will cost A$1900.

yes, that is right. it will cost more to repair the lappy than to buy a new one. what kind of fucking bullshit is that! are you telling me that apple has so poorly designed the ibook that a broken ethernet port requires the entire logic board to be changed. and for some fucking reason, the logic board costs more than a new lappy. so one component actually costs more than the entire lappy!

hey apple - get fucked.

wooah.. i am so steamed all over again about this.

and finally, another piece of bad luck. i got back to melbourne 20 jan 2005. i came into my office to say wassup to all and then took a few days off. and then it happened. i feel sick like a mofo. i had the flu which developed into a lung infection which then reverted into the flu again and then lung infection again. fucking peachy eh? in between, i had migraines and sore thoarts just for the occasionaly variety. while the doing fuckall was nice, it wasted a lot of my time and i was just so worn out all the time. i was so tired that the doctor for a while considered that i may have CFS [chronic fatigue syndrome]. fuck that. in the end, i decided i had enough and spent three whole days cleaning my backyard and room, going trainspotting through new shopping complexes. and fuck me sideways but i am feeling much better. it could be the that or maybe the horse doses of antibiotics.

whatever. i am on my feet and ready to rock the casbah. watch out world, i am coming.

No More Feckin About, Baby

Don't say you weren't warned, Terry Johal dot com. It's been a month now so the threatened coup of Project Maya is becoming a reality. Don't think we wanted it to end this way. If you had've just heeded the calls to action it all could have worked out so differently. For the sake of the blog, I've been called in to take some rather extreme action. Haven't had a job in Australia for sometime, not since the DAA called me in to plug a leak, so to speak, what? Mid nineties. Boom times in my industry. But the market ain't what it used to be. So my numbers guy has been at me to diversify, roll with it, adapt to the territory, I Ching and all that. Whatever. He heard about this girl, a call girl, London, who signed a book deal, based on her "weblog". I'm like, whatever. He's like, there's this job... unusual. I'm like, just give me a warm body, and an arsenal, baby. He's like, this is a killer contract, but mostly literary in nature. Honey, he says, you could use the coin. So here I am, in the city of eternal winter. Touched down late last night. As per my instructions, my transport of choice awaited, and what with the jet lag and my predilection for insomnia, I thought I'd cut to the chase. Plugged in some tunes. Wall to wall sound as I roared through the deserted city streets on my she-cat. Destination, RMIT, downtown Melbourne. That's right, baby. Hacked the mainframe and extracted the info, hitting you right where you least expected it. Brazen, certainly. Dangerous, perhaps. Honey, you really need to clean up that desk. So what's a mystery white girl, a contract killer no less, doing on the page of a Australia-based Singaporean Academic? Good question. Can't answer that one for you. Wouldn't say I follow the logic myself. All I know is that I'm getting a hefty pay cheque, my friend, and all my favourite things, while on assignment: leather goods, expensive hotel suites, and some kick ass weaponary. Now, if you promise to behave, I might just let you come back in and play. But you have to PROMISE you will not neglect your readership again. Should you wish to discuss a resolution of this unfortunate situation, you can reach me at trixareforkids at cluemail.com No spam, kiddies, I'm a contract killer. In the meantime, while the situation remains at a standstill, I shall entertain your readers with tales from the frontline, stories from your soon-to-be-favourite assassin and all round bad girl, Ms Bag-a-trixxxxxx

the next superhero

first i brought you dr. pornsak. now i give you the next superheros

raisin droppings

Don’t raisin looks like droppings? I love raisins, don’t get me wrong but they do look a lot like rat droppings. its not the most appetising of thoughts but that’s just the way it is.

singapore blogger lunchies and defining 'browned'

the asia blog awards have come and gone. the dust has settled and the winners have been announced. myrick organised a lunch to get all the singapore crew together and i managed to wrangle an invitation. [read more here, here and here] i had an awesome time hanging with the whole mob. it reaffirmed for me the whole community aspect of the blogging world. we made up a fairly diseperate bunch of people. and yet it was not a problem hanging out and jabbering on. it was so weird but so easy. singapore blog crew: mr brown, myrick, E@L, La Idler, Agagooga, Party Girl, nitin. i would have loved to meet adri and xiaxue but hey maybe next time. please go and check out their sites. And go here and vote for myrick in the Best New Blog category browned: n being featured and hyperlinked in an entry by mr brown adj the process of having internet users visit your website/blog after being featured in an entry by mr brown. usually leads to your site exploding metaphorically and at times quite literally. can also result in side effects that manifest in the physical world such as the provebial knock on the door late one night, tea parties but also increased attractiveness to members of the opposite sex and a libido to help.

the elephants in my insomia

I was up early on Saturday morning and I was watching the cartoons. One particular cartoon really got me fully annoyed. I don’t have the details of which cartoon it was but that’s not important. The point is that it showed an elephant drinking water through its trunk. Can you believe that? An elephant drinking water through its trunk. Everyone knows that the trunk is the elephant’s nose. Elephants drink water through their trunks as much as we drink through our nose. I mean there are impressionable kids watching who are going to grow up thinking that elephants drink through their trunks [noses]. I feel very strongly about this. As if kids were confused enough already, and then we give them this.

insomnia of the abyss

Another night spent in the wonderful state of sleeplessness. The thing about not being able to sleep that really gets to me is not the tiredness or the lethargy of the next day; it’s the sheer pointlessness of it. To just lie that looking at the light buzz of the telly, the vague sound suggestions of the traffic, turning and twisting in hopes of finding a sleep inducing position and then contemplation. That’s what gets to me. my mind is not interested in being functional in any useful manner. It is only interested in snowballing ruminations. You know, when you have one simple thought and then it slowly gains momentum and begins to roll through one’s cognitive mountains till avalanches race down several slopes dangerously into the abyss. And thats not the most pleasant of places. “And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” - Friedrich Nietzsche Currently listenting to 'Nothing Without You [Tery Bina]' by Nusfrat Fateh Ali Khan from Mustt Mustt

at Phuket Airport

i am currently sitting at Phuket International Airport waiting for my flight to Koh Samui. there is a fair amount of chaos in the air. people just sitting around waiting for whatever flights they can get out of here. tempers were fraying at the check in counters. families not getting same flights, being seperated. people breaking down screaming at counter staff accusing them of being uncaring inhospitable people. some were just sitting around the airport waiting till they can find a flight out. many just looked dazed and lost. its so strange but i feel like a voyuer looking at them. i actually thought about taking some photographs but just could not bring myself to do so. guess maybe i never had it in me to be a journalist anyway. one thought keeps going through my head; so much for the threat of terrorism.

sometimes, titles are too hard

i am currently sitting at KLIA waiting to catch my flight to Phuket and from there carry on to Koh Samui. there is a free wireless network here and so that means its the first time in days i can check my mail and blog. i was going to do it from the hotel in KL but i buggered it up right and proper. i was all plugged in and ready to go. then i did something silly, dropped my laptop and now the ethernet port is broken. this has really pissed me off, i just hope i can get it fixed quickly as i will need natasha once i begin my teaching stint on Jan 3. so apple center at wheelock, here i come. anyway, i have much to tell and much more to complain about in the next few days. but at the moment, i am a tad disconnected. i was at patpong beach in phuket at the begining to the month. and now, its pretty much ravaged. and i am now flying into Phuket, just days after the quake. i am flying in when so many are trying to fly out. and my holidays continue, while so many lives just ended. i am not sure how i feel about it.

off to see the wizard

well, its that time if the year again. the time of bacchus and dionysus masqurading as rotound elderly men. the time of the siren songs of retail senerading the pilgrimes at the meccas of capitalism. the time when fortuna's wheel is at its zenith and we forget her caprious fickle nature.

so my dear friends;

merry xmas and happy new year.

may your credit card bills not be terribly high and your xmas party incidents easily forgoteen.

ps: i will be leaving melbourne tomorrow and be, variously, in singapore, kuala lumpur and koh samui over this silly season. will blog as technology permits and will resume properly blogging after jan 3.

Music Shuffle #2 by Terry's blog squatter

This kind of feels like someone going through your undie drawer laughing at the ones that you've kept in case of a washing emergency - except that we do this voluntarily in the name of online idiocy (or late night sleep inducement after writing a university course outline in my case). So can I keep pressing shuffle till something halfway credible comes up? No? Damn! Well, here goes nothing: I officially bare my sometimes tasteless, often outdated but always eclectic soul to the world.

1. Filthy/gorgeous - Scissor Sisters
2. Lilah - Morphine
3. Hindi sad diamonds - Moulin Rouge
4. The kiss - Deep Forest
5. Hallelujah song - Dave Dobbyn
6. Stay Awhile - Dusty Springfield
7. Sunset (Bird of Prey) - Gatecrasher
8. She's always a woman - Billy Joel (I swear I didnt know that was lurking in there! honest...)
9. The whole world - Outkast
10. No holly for Miss Quinn - Enya

Sigh. Time for bed. Have a day of international ridicule to prepare for tomorrow.

my music shuffle

so singapore's bloggomegaultimastar mr brown has this music shuffle thing to do, and so i did it. no britney or justine but i have a celine some and a few whitneys. but i survived. i have six double cd volumes of the best of the eighties but that did not turn up either. nor did a whole bunch of other embrassing music. why? cos i moved most of my music to my external hardrive. yeah! survived a public outing of my daggy music tastes. so here's what turned up. 01. Bill Laswell – Thunupa from the album Sacred System: Chapter Two 02. Astrud Gilberto - The Shadow Of Your Smile from the album The Silver Collection 03. The RZA/Charles Bernstein - Crane/White Lightning from the album Kill Bill 04. Bob Marley & The Wailers – Three Little Birds from the album Legend 05. Morcheeba – Sab Paulo from the album Charango 06. Cheb I Sabbah - Lagi Lagan from the album Krishna Lila 07. Dame Moura Lympany - Clair De Lune [Ocean's Eleven] from the album Pure Cinema Classics 08. Yann Tiersen [Amelie: Original Soundtrack] - Le Moulin from the album Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amelie Poulain 09. Spiller – Groovejet (If This Ain't Love) from the album Groovejet (If This Ain't Love) 10. Ryuichi Sakamoto – Chanson from the album BTTB [International Version]

duly chastised

"For a journal about new media, New Media and Society didn't seem very excited about providing references to relevant websites (or CDs, or anything). That each contributor does not have a website URL next to their name seems not merely disappointing, but pretty freaky. If your new media expert cannot even put together a basic website to support their work (simply providing extra information and links, say) then I am not certain that we want to spend much time with them. Seriously. The only possible excuse could be if you were a new media expert who argued that the internet was evil and should be shut down, in which case your no-website position would be pretty consistent, but otherwise I don't understand it and it just seems lazy." David Gaunlett of theory.org.uk [of the funniest sites ever, if you are a cultural studies nerd] and newmediastudies.com hence, i would like to announce the successful capture of terryjohal.com, terryjohal.org and terryjohal.net. this was orchestrated by none other than the Z(ippy)3 driving diamondaholic velle. eat your heart out terry johal of british colombia, victoria, canada. you have sullied the good names of terry johal enough, you property agent you. in your face. of course, now that i have the domain name. what do i do next? first plan of attack is to move the blog there, maybe using a subdomain. should i just ftp the blogger blog? probably not. i feel like i need more options about my blog like categories and links, more control over the aesthetics of the blog. any recommendations? Edit: I am sitting on my blue couch watching the cricket and blogging. sitting in a fair amount of darkness. all the windows are shut and the blinds pulled down. its to prevent the lounge becoming an oven. it currently 34C. i am sitting in front of the fan; that is aweshum. aktar is injured and out - does not bode well for pakistan.

When I grow up I wanna talk amplified crap outside a store!

Before I moved to Australia there was something missing in my life. Sure, I had a good job, cute dog and lovely man but I still had the gnawing feeling of absence, an emptiness, a void, or perhaps a chasm. The day I set foot in Melbourne and took a stroll through the thriving bustle of Swanston Street I realised what I had been missing and what I had now found that would make my life complete. Now, almost a year after moving here, I can't imagine how I lived my life without them. Can you believe that in New Zealand (and, indeed, in some other parts of the world I've heard) people do not have their lives enriched by the microphone weilding idiots standing out front of stores spruiking the crap inside?!!! In fact, I have to admit (and this is a deep shame that I have not confessed to the world before) that I had not even heard the word 'spruik' before arriving here!!! To think that I had been missing out on such a magnificent expression, whose closest relations in the venerable font of information that is the wordwebonline.com are spruce pine, spruce squirrel, sprung rhythm, spry, spud, spue, spume and spumescent. I have to confess that I had not even heard the word spumescent before my life was enriched by the world of store spruiking - what a wanton and fruitless existence I have thus led! But now all that is in the past, I am a truly a citizen of the world as I wander down the road, listening to the wonderful, stimulating prose that spews (or spumesces?) forth from the cheap and nasty microphones and crappy little amplifiers of the men and women in suits standing outside their stores. How did I function before when I didn't know what exciting one day only specials beckoned 'just inside', 'just downstairs', 'on the sales table' or even (joy of joys!) 'storewide'!!! How many incredible, never to be repeated, drastically reduced specials have I missed out on?! But enough of this reflection - lets get down to nails and tacks. Say, for example - you aspire to this profession? What are the realities of the business? How does one enter this glamourous job? A cheap suit and blonde hair (women) or crewcut (men) are basic prerequisites. A monotonous voice is another. Do you need to write your own script or are you winging it? How long should it be? Are we talking about an 8 hour 9-5 script? Or does it get repeated on a 5 minute basis? What if your amp stops working? Do you juggle, sing or whip out the "homeless, will prostitute my skills for money" sign?. Will your peers link less of you if you record it and play it through a stereo? (the answer is 'yes' by the way) and, most importantly, what is the best way to commit hari kari when nominated to do the spruiking shift cos' you were the poor bastard last in, first out on the street with a mic in hand. So many things to think about. When I get my post-grad quals over and done with maybe then I will be ready to tackle this momentous career move....maybe.

john howard is right

never did i think the day would come when i would say - 'little johnnie is right! completely and irrevocably right!'. next i will start thinking that maybe tony a-bot has human-like tendencies. oh woe is me, johnnie and i are of the same mind. this really hurts. and i blame you city of sydney. A plague o' both your houses! this is what we have come to agree on. i have rarely been this disgusted. ever. and i have been some disgusting places my friends. oh the stories i could you - like this one time in band camp... oh god, allah, jesus, buddha, and other various major deities, strike thy vengance on the people who thought - hmm... we need to reach out to the youth. thats where all the good sponors are. hmm... well my kids love that dance music, maybe we need to have some of that dance music. the kids are always so happy and loving after one of those dance gatherings. yup, thats what we need. a dance something. so there is bastard child of some totally like clueless bureaucrat. you know him - a prepy sweater with the bottom of a stripy shirt hanging out, distressed jeans, the shane warne hairdo. you know the one tragically hip mr GQ australia. and if i see you or your 65 billion clones walking down carlton again, i will have you publicly buggered by a large monkey. ps: i actually am a fragile sensitive soul deep inside - very deep. ps: this post contains two literary references. cos i rock at being a nerd. Edit: the spin starts here has something to say about it as well.

slogans are sexy

hammy has asked me to think of a few slogans for t-shirts. he knows how important i think the space offered by t-shirts is. it is probably the only space left in this over commodified world where one can choose to or not to say anything. all this happens while advertisers try to take over any eye-space possible to sell us more of what we don't need. public space is dead. [in bangkok, i saw a hospital that was covered by billboards. yes i can hear all the wonderful *money* talk about how it has *money * brought in revenue that *money money* has allowed to hospital to money money money. as its said, everything is for sale and everything must go.) so here are a few ideas; @ i wish i was working class @ blue collar is the new black @ space for rent @ free craig's johnson [ps: if you get it, you get it] @ commodify this @ i am a commodified demographic @ listen to me. i am an affluent demographic @ the revolution will be on fox @ the revolution will be televised and sponsored @ it's not what is sold, it's what you buy @ consumption will set you free @ slavery is cost-effective @ CEOs are humans too, alledgely @ work hard, the boss needs a pay rise another merc well , i will leave it at that for the moment. and people, let me know if the comments work, leave a slogan.

Phuket Dispatches 4

if you ever need a room, bugger the travel agent and ask your doctor to hook you up with his mate.

and yes, it's pronounced 'suck'

trash and trasher

so survivor came to its conclusion last night [at least i think so, it could have been earlier but i was in bangkok, aka, craphola of the worldla, where they still sing cranberries songs]. and by god, the last time i watched it, there were a bunch of chicks and now its was redneck and rednecker. could it get more trailer? so what have we learnt this time around? 1. being a lying, deceptive bitch is fine as long as you claim that in the name of honesty 2. mullet wearing women will never be given a million dollars 3. drugs fry your brains - ref scout 4. cute takes you far but not all the way 5. blue collar is the new black julie, eliza, ami and dolly - i would like to let them know that they can be my final four anytime. NOTE: Me and Stev0 are on the lookout for nine 1000 year old vixen spirits that also have the powers of the cleaning fairy. If you have an information pertaining to that, please let me know.

Bangkok Dispatches 1

Not only did I stay in an ominously named hotel, but my room number was 666.

I could not make this stuff up.

'the other best thing about bangkok? it sounds like something rude and painful happened to the natives.'

Singapore Dispatches 7

So I took a cab late one morning to Orchard Towers to pick up some flight tickets. Now, this was a ride of not more than five minutes, but I got that one cabbie who made it seem like it was far longer. First he insisted that I was going to Orchard Towers way too early. Instead I should pay him $10 to drive me around the city for the next hour. inspite of my profuse insistences that i had no interest in driving around the city and that i actually only had left singapore as recently as four years ago, he insisted that i should not leave until i have had someone drive me around the city. secondly, he insisted that i was early as the girlies would not be there till late afternoon. orchard towers is of course the famous 'four floors of whores' in singapore. he then said that since i had time before the girls got there, i should let him drive me around the city for the next hour. of course, he ignored my explanation of going to the travel agency there. then, he told me that the girls there were 'not clean one, very dirty, no lie-sense'. the girls in geylang were cleaner and 'better one for play play, all lie-sense'. of course, he offered to take me to geylang to the best whorehouse there. by now, we had arrived at the orchard towers and i was desperate to get out of his cab. but i had to wait for my change and guess what he did. he offered to wait for me get my tickets and then ... drive me around the city cos i should not leave singapore till i had done that. 'somemore, only $10. very cheap'

non-corporate managed asset

i am not a happy boy today. i have been advised that natasha is a 'non-RMIT managed asset' and as such cannot log onto the network without going through some serious paperwork and probbing. here i am attempting to put together a thesis about the potential emancipation that technology can provide and then boom! in your face. not impressed. spent the whole morning sorting this out. of course, it would have been a lot easier that someone just informed me and all the other laptops users about this new policy than to find out after making a couple of calls to the it people. who's to blame? not the it people. its the bottom line i guess. its always about the bottom line at the end of the days. i was going to do a bangkok dispatch but no! this had to happen. bullocks!

coming soon: the hindsight dispatches

i am back in melbourne and am currently sitting at my awesome desk in uni, only hours after travelling thousands of kilometers.

had a long and boring flight back. i just could not fall asleep no matter what i tried - positionwise and such. i watched all the movies and listened to the comedy channels. i have a complaint - it is really tedious to channel surf in the airplane. this is not desirable. i need to be able to zip zap my way through the dozens of channels.

anyway, i have not slept in days, literally. am experiencing a strange buzz in my body. i will endure this till night. hopefully that will sort my body clock out and i can get back to my life tomorrow.

and after that i promise, hindsight dispatches about phuket, bangkok and singapore.

and here's a taster:
"the best thing about bangkok is a confirmed seat out of bangkok'

as well as a handy guide to faking asia;

"you must have a faded white t-shirt of either the red bull logo or the singha beer logo. this will set you apart from the others and position you as a well asia travelled sort. accompany with strange smell for greater authencity'

Phuket Dispatches 3

I am back at the dont need my tourist dollars cos they have to sleep and eat and maybe spend time with their offpspring. bah! Why am I here? Not too sure. nothing exciting happened since my last post. sooo i have nothing to say really. nothing at all. nuthin .... except maybe this: "i know i am but what are you" i promise to blog more definitively when i get back to melbourne. when i am at my desk with my mess. Or when i am on my blue couch. i have pictures, i have seen things my people. so it will be some like totally awesome blogging coming your way soon. i am so rock and roll.

Phuket Dispatches 2

note to bloggers: avoid numbering your dispatches. it forces you to write more than one, regardless. i was almost at my hotel after a long day of sweating and being very hot. after wandering the streets like an englishman. and while everyone encases themself in the cool sweet air of the airconditioner, what do i do? i venture forth to fulfill the dreams of my loyal readership of three with a post. and so here i am. did the touristy thing today and went for the city tour. bought my mandatory singha t-shirt. forgot to buy the mandatory red bull [in thai] t-shirt but am on the case and will get that sorted tomorrow. also did the mandatory walk on the beach. [most of you will know of my dislike of the beach. to me sand and water combine to become mud.] did the sitting at a pub near the beach listening to a bad filipino band murdering grand covers of bad 80s music. did the wandering if she is a he bit as well. did the 'where you from?' bits. did the bargining bits. and now am doing the getting chased out of the internet place cos the lazy natives want to shut and go home to their kids at a mere 1 am. dont they know i am a affluent demographic? dont they know i am a tourist bringing in foreign currency? will try to blog from bangkok in the next few days. [damn lazy natives]

Phuket Dispatches 1

So I am sitting at an internet terminal somewhere in the swelter that is trying to pass itself off as Phuket. I sit encased in a substantial film of sweat, a James Cameron production starring old arnie kind of film. so far, I have been rained on, bitten by mozzies and had a Singha [word up to the duss]. Got in late in the evening and have not done much yet. But I have committed myself to sweating, and am currently doing really well at that. I have decided to leave my natasha back in Singapore. I have taken whitebaits advice and not drag poor natasha all over phuket and Bangkok. Of course, whitebait managed to persuade me, as many have, by buying me a gift - lipstick traces. I am so cheap to please. a thought struck me earlier as I sat in the plane - its been 18 days of living out of a suitcase in hotels. While it kind of nice to have your breakfast and bed made everyday, its weird too. cos you get the sense that someone has been walking around in what is essentially for that period your room. And they do things like move your stacks of papers and arrange your toiletries. But the weirdest is when you come back and the blinds have been shut. I dont know why but that really freaks me out. I really miss my office desk back in Melbourne. I am very attached to that space. Maybe its all the wonderful people in the room [just in case you happen to read this]. I had a picture of it as my wallpaper in natasha. I don't miss my bedroom all that much but I do miss the blue couch in the living area. That is one awesome blue couch. and off to another hotel room now and it has no blue couch.

over to the land of smiles

this might be the last post for a while now. i am off to thailand for the next few days. i have not decided if i am going to bring my laptop with me. it will be hard to leave natasha behind all by her lonesome. but i am fearful of dragging her around the streets of phuket and bangkok. also, i cannot, simply and vehemently cannot afford to have anything happen to her. i will try to get to a internet terminal or two along the way and post some 'thailand dispatches'. you so know you want to read my insightful, erm, insights. till then.

Singapore Dispatches 6

And there I was, in the toilet, it happened. Clean forgot what to do.

So I thought about pissing on the floor as it was the obvious thing to do. I probably shoudl not flush as I am very eco-aware. Must save water and that is why I pissed on the floor - helping to wash. Obviously, washing hands is just silly. As they say, why wash when you can just piss on them. Of course, littering is just recycling creatively. Waste not want not I say.

But thanfully, the toilets came with instructions. That was a close one. They think of everything.

Singapore Dispatches 5

I have this theory about Singapore. Well, I have several but here’s one of my newer ones. Over the last few days, I have been put into some peril by operators of various public places. They have put my life and limb at great risk. I blame this on the fact that Singapore is not a highly litigious society and that liability payouts are low. Let me explain. I was at City Hall Station one rainy afternoon. Of course the ever-so-considerate were all congregated around the entrance under shelter, praying to the ‘stop-the-rain’ god. The prayer only works by standing immobile in large crowds, preventing others from entering or exiting the station. And to really put some pow into your prayer, perform a blood sacrifice by opening your umbrella in that crowd and taking someone’s eye out. After I made it past the praying mob, eyes intact thankfully, I realised that the escalator headed down into the station had been killed and the hunters were busy standing around inspecting the carcass of the beast. Which meant that the only way down was via the water slide [also known as the gushing rain waters of the stairs]. Of course, the sardine river just careens down, pretty much pulling me along for the ride. I was glad when I reached the bottom of the stairs safely. It was quite the wet and wild ride. Since then, I have also had several water skiing episodes walking on tiles in Holland Village and Orchard Road. Why the hell would anyone think that smooth polished granite is not a completely insane flooring material? Now, if these genius operators were sued and had to make big payouts to all the slippers and sliders, perhaps it might strike them at non-slip materials tend to function better as flooring material. Or is that just too sensible a proposition?

Singapore's OK

"Ask yourself this question: if you have a child and he brings back a boyfriend or a girlfriend of a different race, will you be delighted?"

"I'll answer frankly - I don't think I will. I may eventually accept it," he [MM Lee] said.

Singapore Dispatches 4

The pathology of the mobile phone in Singapore is pretty insane. Last night, I was sitting at the back of the lecture hall while my colleague was lecturing. I do this so as to be able monitor what the students are doing. This has nothing to do with the fact I have, not this time, but once or twice a long long time ago, fallen asleep during lectures. It has nothing to do with that. Anyway, this is not about me. It’s about the students. I noticed that students will talk on their mobiles up to the very last moment before the lecture begins. Once the lecture begins, they at least stop talking on the phone. But messaging is another game altogether. I noticed some students keying in their messages without having to look at the screen at all. The entire operation is done while looking completely enraptured by the lecture. I was well impressed. Of course, there were those that left the hall to attend to calls as they are obvious very important people who need to be contactable 24/7. To think I asked them to please switch their phones off. How dare I. I asked a friend once to just switch her phone off. That look itself was priceless. Not to be outdone, I attempted to key in a message while the lecture was going on [sorry BM]. It was almost impossible. I have little idea what keys are where. And even less idea, what the first words formed are and how many clicks away are my desired words. And to do all this while looking engrossed into the lecture, now that is truly a skill I could do with. Its like when the airplane lands and the first thing people do is fire up their mobiles. I would have usually forgotten my charger and the mobile would be dead. NOTE: This post has been sponsored by good old Desmond Tan aka Duss. I am using the wirelss whatyoumightcallit at Coffee Bean at Funan. It's costing him SG$6 for 30 mins.

Singapore Dispatches 3

Teaching only begins at 7pm so I shall blog. I could do something productive like reading or writing but the blog calls. Lets go on about the chope rage. I have not seen it but I have heard much of this. People just going fucking bananas when their tissue packets are not given their due respect. Lets not even go back to the ‘hello kitty’ riots of 2000. Now that is some wicked chope rage. I don’t want get any of that chope rage just for some connectivity. It is too much of a fight to get to a terminal. I don’t have it in me. But this is Singapore, the land of the wireless quilt – WEAVE. SIM had to be on that mofo. So I went to the Apple Center nearest my hotel [wheelock] and got myself a wireless card. Dude I must digress but never EVER has Natasha been treated like such a commodity. The dude is friendly like and all, but he just striped her open right there. Out in the open, no curtains, no mood lighting, nothing. Oh god no! Then with no pomp nor pageantry just chucked the card in and that was that. Why I never ever. It hurt that one did. I would have preferred if he took her to the back somewhere and had his way with her. But not in that cold unemotional manner that he did on the shop floor. The good thing I guess was that it was mercifully quick. But I don’t know if Natasha and me are ready to go back to that Apple Center. We are fragile sensitive souls not used to unfeeling professionalism. But they have such nice toys. But the good thing is that normal interactions with cyberspace have resumed. Natasha is now wireless. And this just rocks in Singapore. Fucking ‘ell that mofo is all over the place. I was sitting at Funan – a monster IT mall – and there was a network ready for me. A credit card and $18 buys you 2 hours. And I have heard tales of other such wonders. And then as I was sitting around, as I tend to, I discovered that there are a few networks ‘floating’ around that do not require a password. Say its so! I have ‘borrowed’ some bandwidth from one or two of these. But merely to quickly check my mail. I am not sure how I feel about this yet. Ideally, it would be the utopia of Rheingold but in practicality, someone is paying if I am not. Hmmm… damn you my conscious.

Singapore Dispatches 2

Ah, lets about connectivity. The hotel that I am staying at is awesome. It is insanely opulent; or maybe I just have low standards. It has easy broadband access but by god it’s costly. Its $17 an hour, $35 for 24 hours or $110 for a week. As much I crave connectivity, I had to hold back. I was told that there would be connectivity at SIM. I was told there is a lecturers lounge with terminals that we can use. But they did not tell us of the ‘chope’. To ‘chope’ is to reserve a seat by placing one’s belongings around desired seat. This is usually done with a packet of tissue papers – the quintessential chope device. There is much of the choping at SIM. There are six terminals available in the lecturers lounge but most are choped. But this choping is not one for beginners. Oh no. Forget the tissue packet, this is an all or nothing chope. Books, papers, bottles, pencil cases, food, files, bags, the kitchen sink. It is a high stakes game. Not for dilettante. So much for that then. Or is there a counter-chope? Its called the ‘dumb angmoh’ card; or in my case, the ‘dumb don-know-from-where-one’ card. This is how it works. One needs to be loud, friendly and sure of the innocence of whatever silliness that one intends to get up to. And if one is ever caught out, feign ignorance, say a loud sorry, put on a big smile and all will be forgiven. Its works. I road tested it just fine. Is this to be the ultimate counter-chope? Oh yeah, but the chope rage cannot be too far off.

Singapore Dispatches 1

I have been in Singapore for the last week or so and as such have not had the time to get blogging. Been busy witht the teaching and whatnots and of course the catching up with the few friends that know I am here. Blogging will commence shortly.

the thing with old people

i like old people. seriously. they have given me hours of fun playing 'guess whose got diapers on?'. but i have one gripe with them, these old people. never ever go to the supermarket between 9.30 -12.00, before dr.phil and oprah come on. see, i was there the other day and i figured it out. i reckon old people get let out for their morning walks around this time so that they get tired out and come home to snooze in front of the telly for the rest of the day before they can resume their attempts at baby sitting. thats cool, everyone should be able to get out for a bit. its cool, i let my dog out everyday for a bit too. but at the supermarket, oh god help us. as hilarious as it is to see them shuffling up and down the aisles looking for that metamucil, these oldies become all lobotomised. there are oldies wandering and drifting in the fresh foods sections leaving what i am sure are gum marks on the fruit. and if they feel adventours they head to the cold food section -brrrr! its as good as a holiday. and its free and the weather is always good. and friends - there are always friends around, if not invite some, its free! so far so good. its not desirable but i am usually at work so does not really matter. its better than poor people or hippies i guess. but what gets to me is when i tried to queue to pay for my things. its called a express queue, i checked. holy fuck if it was not full of the oldies. and it took forever. each old person had to tell the cashier about their grandchildren, their unmarried children and their bowel movements from the day before. and of course no one paid by card like real people. they had to dig through various pockets, bags, and then ask their friends for 5 cents cos they did not want to get any change back. which would i guess weight down further and decrease their shuffle-ability. EXPRESS QUEUE! when i got to the front, i asked the cashier dude if that was just a suggestion. of course he did not get it. if he could, he would have a real job. so i suggest that all supermarkets, have an old people queue from 9.30 to 12.00. so that people with things to do, would not have to spend 20 mins queueing to buy a bottle of milk and some apples.

polyglot culture jam

a fully sick nite.

all come, there is much fun to be had.

its the 'speak mandarin' stupid

Oh me, oh my. I want to speak mandarin -Non-Mandarin-speaking job seekers 'need chance to learn it' I feel 'anguish and frustrations' at being discriminated against when applying for simple jobs that require me to speak not the other languages. Of course, not my mother tongue or my other tongue. And not even my national tongue. But mandarin speakers are going to explain to me why I cannot get the job while they explain to me why they are being discriminatory? Then they will teach me to speak mandarin, since it is obviously such an easy language to pick up? After I learn the mandarin, will I be proficient in speaking and understanding? Will I get the job then? I remember years ago when want ads would honestly state – Chinese, Malay or Indian preferred. None of that PCness, no thanks. We all knew where we stood. No point applying for a job there then. Now, it’s the euphuism of the mandarin speaker. Come on, if you went through the Singapore education system, you know who studied mandarin and who did not. Admittedly, there might be a few more economically minded parents who had children in the mandarin classes [but was not one of the rationales of the learning of the mother tongue to allow for a stronger grasp of one’s culture?]. So what does 'mandarin speaking' actually mean? But the thing that scares me more than the euphemism is the rationalisms that I hear about why I need to speak mandarin, why employers hire mandarin speakers. It’s the economics stupid, they say. It’s the reality of being a Singaporean. But did we not get kicked out of Malaysia from wanting equality? Are those ideals so easily sullied by economics? No, wait. Its about the coming rise of China, we need to be prepared to harness that potential. Oh, so it’s all-good then. My bad then.

the geek will ride

so i have passed my motorbike learners permit. i can with the blessings of the good people at vicroads ride a 250cc bike up to 110km/h. yeah, i am soooo badd baby. you know, i am going to rock the casbah like a mofo. "On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found The head nurse spoke up, and she said leave this one alone She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone Bad to the bone Bad to the bone" George Thorogood and the Destroyers but enough of this tough talk. lets talk geek. i am in preparation of becoming a hardcore geek bikie. in the training mode, oh yeah baby. i have read everything at Beginners Guide to Motorcycling and Motorcycle Cruiser Magazine and webBikeWorld and Motorcycles and riding online and on and on and on. but any good researcher worth his slide rule will tell you - online resources are not enough. you need a variety of books as well. sooo... i went and bought 'the Complete Idiot's Guide to Motorcycles' [foreword by Jay Leno no less]. also under consideration are the following titles 'Motorcycle Owner's Manual', 'The Motorcycle Safety Foundation's Guide to Motorcycling Excellence: Skills, Knowledge, and Strategies for Riding Right', 'Street Strategies: A Survival Guide for Motorcyclists' and 'Proficient Motorcycling' as well as 'More Proficient Motorcycling'. which bring me to the fact that borders and readings have no motorbike section. what the galahballs? but Book Affair came to the rescue and have a large [three whole shelves] section on bikes. but its still not done. where's the fieldwork? there must be some qualitative and maybe even quantative research. i am generally a textual research so this is new ground for me. the thing i dislike about non-textual research is that involves talking to other people. and it begins usually with touching... at least that what i was told. anyway, i have since attempted talking to other riders. and it has been awesome and extremely useful. there is nothing like talking to people who can give you first hand advice and insights. and i am a firm believer in communities and they are just the best way to get to know people and where like-minded people offer help. and the best place to do that is Netrider and Ozsportsbikes.com.

it's here somewhere...

uni desk
*blughed by*terryjohal.

so this is what my desk in uni looks like.

on a good day...

and i swear... i will find it

Farrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrck!

Ok, so Terry invited me to play on this blog with the specific proviso that I swear as much as possible. I let him down badly with my first attempt but he has been kind enough to give me one more shot. So here goes: WHAT A BUNCH OF FUCKING IGNORANT ARROGANT PAROCHIAL DICKWADS THE AMERICANS ARE!!!!! Now, i'm not given to mass stereotyping (much - stay tuned for the indian shopkeeper special in upcoming weeks :-) but I'm feeling pretty confident in saying that 51% of all voting Americans - that's 59,019,633 people for those mathematically inclinded readers out there - are fucking idiots. Sure you can bang on about how dumb Dubya is - but how much dumber are the people who voted for him?!!! I had a whole load of trouble logging on to blogger.com this morning and I am pretty sure that is because every single other person with a blog and a modicum of left-wing, or even moderate right-wing, inclination is logging on to have a bloody good bitch. And so they should. Cos' it's a fucking travesty. Chanel the fabulous Kiwi getting kicked off Australian Idol in favour of Anthony the midget italian poseur is nothing in comparison to this (although I still have bad dreams about the former) ... this is big time bad news. I can't even begin to think about the prospect of having that cock in the whitehouse trampling over the rest of the world in his shiny cowboy boots for another 4 years. Enough said, I'm sure everyone else is saying it as well and I have nothing new or insightful to add - but I'm hoping my swear tally has got me back in Tezza's good books.

As if i'm not geeky enough already.

Oh dear god, I am turning into my mother. I used to laugh at her as she would come home from work, in the front door and out the back door into the garden, pausing only long enough to drop her bag. For the next half hour at least, she would be happily pootling around the garden, tweaking branches here, pulling a weed there, sort of destressing after her day I guess, at the time it just seemed to me to be another symptom of my mum going quietly, contentedly mad (this is, after all, the same woman that I caught vacuuming our deck). ...and then I got the bug. It all started innocently enough, I was desperate for something, anything other than essay marking, so I wandered into the backyard and pulled out a couple of the monster weeds that have taken it over. It was strangely satisfying. A few days later I was at Arthur Daley's Extremely Dodgy Clearance Store Full of Shit You Don't Need But Have to Have and there was a gardening set of branch loppers, trowel, gloves and other bits and pieces (including a sexy workmans belt for looking like a dick with)...all for the ridiculously low and irresistable price of $3.95. What could I do? I knew I shouldn't have but the little voices in my head kept saying "go on, it's less than $4! what harm can it do?". So I bought it. 2 weeks later I am a cofirmed garden addict, fiddling with the roses that have survived despite my best efforts to the contrary and rampaging around with the loppers. I love loppers. Dumb word but my god, how much fun are they?!!! There is nothing quite like the feeling of power as you prowl through your backyard, commando style (not in reference to an absence of underwear on this occasion), seeking out the next unsuspecting victim of my loppers of wrath. There ain't no fair trial in my back yard, I am the judge, jury and executioner of all I purvey (and can reach). I think a step ladder is next on my list, then even the tall stuff can't escape. Mwooah hah hah! If you see me lurking around my balcony with a vacuum cleaner please stop me.

broken head syndrome

i think i am suffering from broken head syndrome {bhs}. originally, i thought i had merely sprained my brain trying to read deleuze and guattari's anti-oedipus. and of course the marking, which is always such a pleasant distraction from the less joyfull aspects of life like sleeping. but i think that perhaps its worse. been having the usual migraines but now they last for two or three days. and, i have been having brain cramps - seriously. dont laugh. the right side of the top of my head sort of tightens up and then there is a slight tingling sensation. it lasts for a few minutes and then disapears. i did not think much of this until i mentioned it to someone and said someone was horrified that it was not a joke. and since i have asked around and hmmm... no body seems to understand what i am talking about. so, as any rational person does - i claim the naming rights - broken head syndrome it wil be henceforth known as.

singapore-style poly-tics

Regulate monopoly in political market Opposition party member Steve Chia sent yesterday's debate on the new competition code off into a different direction when he called for the new law to also regulate the 'political market'.The Non-Constituency MP said the Bill did not have any provisions to check the 'monopolistic power and anti-competitive behaviour' of the governing political party in Singapore. He said: 'It is a well-known and recognised fact that the PAP, as the governing monopoly in Singapore, uses every resource within its dominant power to bring about anti-competitive practices.' ... an insistent Mr Chia said the Bill should include all sectors, including government service providersIf such 'anti-competitive behaviour' was not checked, it might lead to a greater erosion of the democratic principles of equity and fairness on which Singapore society is based, he warned. Rebutting, MP Sin Boon Ann (Tampines GRC) questioned his mix of politics with business. 'The essence of politics is to allow people the right of choice... if people so decide that this party continues to dominate the political scene, it's a demonstration of the free will and the choice of the people. 'And that's the reason why we are in this House term after term, election after election,' he said to rousing 'ayes' and thumping of seats from party colleagues. Added Mr Sin: 'Why do you question the people's choice?' change not a bid to gag MPs The cause of his ire: a recommendation by a rules committee to limit MPs to posing five questions at each sitting - three for a minister to respond to verbally, and two for a written response. Mr Tan supported the changes but said the 'obsession with trying to make ourselves too efficient in this House... worries me'. He also took issue with another possible change: MPs in future may no longer take their oaths of allegiance individually but in groups or in a manner the Speaker will determine.

upcoming releases - the gone wild series

these are all sourced from the various online editions of singapore newspapers recently. i could not make this up. maids gone wild v.3 = = = = = Her employer [Ai Li - a maid], who's identified only as Mr Chen, 40, a businessman, found her ranting illogically, sometimes pausing to laugh. The woman claimed that she was a male spirit. Unable to talk her down, Mr Chen called the police who sent officers from the local fire department to the scene. They tried to reason with the maid, but Ai Li simply laughed and ran around the roof, playing a game of hide-and-seek with her negotiators. After four hours, the officers gave up and dragged her down by force. The woman displayed incredible strength, fighting the group of men violently. She calmed down only after she was doused with cold water. An amulet was also hung around her neck. When Ai Li came to, she appeared to have no recollection of what had happened. She has been taken to hospital where tests are being run to determine if she is suffering from mental illness. Mr Chen told China Press that he believed Ai Li had been possessed by evil spirits. He first suspected something was amiss on Saturday evening when Ai Li suddenly started shrieking for no apparent reason. She drank 15 glasses of water at one go. Mr Chen said she passed out when he grabbed her and placed an amulet around her neck. He was horrified to find the maid 'possessed' again the next morning, he said. An Indonesian construction worker, who had been working on the house next door, said the foreman in charge of the project had 'taken' a spirit to the site. The spirit was supposed to watch over the site and ensure the safety of the men, he said. However, when work wrapped up recently, the spirit was 'abandoned'. = = = = = ceo's gone wild v.6234 = = = = = In its report, the Melbourne-based Herald Sun claimed Mr Tay 'blew a staggering A$25 million in a two-year losing streak' at the Crown Casino in Melbourne. It also claimed he bet up to A$100,000 a hand on big-stakes baccarat tables, and he made more than 25 visits to Melbourne since February 2001. While there, it alleged, he almost always stayed in his favourite five-star accommodation at the top of the Crown Towers Hotel - where a single night in the palatial suite, complete with a team of private butlers, costs A$8,000. It described its source as a confidential report it managed to obtain, called the Mahogany Room report. The report said staff of the Mahogany Room told the newspaper Mr Tay did not hesitate to risk more than A$1 million in a single session. = = = = = unmarried old blue collars gone wild v.69 = = = = = A BEVY of jeans-clad women, some still teenagers, stand shyly before the Singaporean stranger. More young women arrive by the van-load at the empty restaurant in the city's Chinatown, hoping to catch the eye of 51-year-old accounts clerk Goh Ho Guan. The bachelor makes them parade before him, and they do so awkwardly - more than four dozen in all, aged 19 to 30. Clearly dazzled, he tells The Straits Times: 'There are so many for me to choose from! I also have a headache. I don't know how to choose.' -edit- Most are Chinese-speaking blue-collar workers, aged 30 to 50, looking for a woman to care for them and start a family with. Chinese men make up almost nine in 10 of the 67,000 bachelors in Singapore aged 35 to 49, according to the 2000 Census. There are another 11,236 aged 50 to 59. Some had failed romances and feel Singaporean women are materialistic, demanding and too independent. Others, like Mr Goh, have never had a girlfriend. 'Singapore girls are very difficult,' is how he puts it. Mr Mark Lin, who runs Sin Ye International Matchmaker, said that in Vietnam, these same men are 'kings' when it comes to choosing wives. -edit- 'Generally, Vietnamese women are gentle, very obedient and have a good character,' he said in Mandarin. His wife never says no if he wants home-cooked food, he says. -edit-Women like 22-year-old farmer's daughter Quach Thi Lan. When asked what kind of husband she dreams of, she replied: 'If a man chooses me, I don't think I will have any objection.' -edit-'Planting rice is back-breaking work. I want a chance to go abroad, to see new places and to know more things,' Miss Lan said. -edit-All of them had been shown his photograph and knew his age and occupation, that he did not smoke, gamble or drink alcohol, and that his hobby was collecting stamps. He settled on Miss Nguyen Thi Kuen Linh, 26, a farmer's daughter and one of eight children, who left her village 170km south-west of the city in late May.Now she had to have her virginity check, even though she said she had never had a boyfriend. Mr Goh came back from the doctor's clinic grinning widely. They were engaged that day and married the next. = = = = = nighting gales gone wild v.2 = = = = = "Bilateral ties with China are no doubt important but we should not compromise our social values by allowing the prostitution problem to get out of hand," wrote Tang Li Shan in one of a series of complaints to local media. Prostitution in Singapore is legal in several red-light districts where Indonesian, Malaysian, Thai, Indian and Chinese women ply their trade in brothels, karaoke lounges and massage parlours. Sex workers must carry a health card and submit to medical checks. But soliciting for sex on the street is illegal. By far the biggest source of new sex workers is China, where an industrial boom has triggered rural unemployment and a range of vices -- from prostitution to human trafficking. Singapore, whose population is Asia's third-wealthiest and 77 percent ethnic Chinese, is a natural magnet. "It's my first time here," explains Yeh, an affable, soft-spoken women who looks about 5 years beyond her age. "I've stayed for about 20 days." She says she earns about S$300 each day. "I will have to leave when my social visit pass expires." "Those who are forced into prostitution look to Singapore as the land of milk and honey. They borrow money to come here in hope of decent work but only to find themselves landing in debt and in prostitution," he said. = = = = =

why summer is to be despised

1. its too bloody hot. research, scientific research, has shown that the optimun work temperature is 17-24 degrees celsius, not 34 degrees, not 36 and defintely not 40 degrees. lee kuan yew, the great man himself, said that the air-conditioner gave us who live in the tropics a chance to take those from the temperates on. there would not have been the protestant work ethic if they were in the tropics, let me tell you that. siestas my arse. have you heard something more counter productive. yes boss, while the rest of the world works i have to sleep cos its too damn hot. cooling is vital to the economic vitality of the tropical countries. hear now - i am of the tropical people so fuck off with the 'oh i love summer, oh i love the heat'. i will beat you severely for being a stupid imperialist. 2. white men with patsy pasta legs in short shorts. holy shit, is there an uglier sight than this. if i want to see old man balls, i will let you know. till then, put them away. please. these men look like loolipops. a gut on twigs. oh god, why? this cannot be the same ommipotent dude who made like cute chicks and tiny clothes. and dudes, 3. socks with sneakers. it bad enough that you wear socks with sneakers but for fucks sake, dont fucking pull the motherfuckers up. that is just stupid. if you have to wear socks, dont wear your bullshit dress socks. they are dress, listen, d r e s s socks. sneakers and dress socks for fucks sake. hullo? how much of a dropkick are you? and the icing, it is usually acompanied by pasta legs. 4. blasted fucking frosted pink sunnies. once again research has shown that gray tints reduce brightness with the least distortion, amber and brown tints help to reduce glare, increase contrast and clarity and absorb higher frequency colors, such as blue and violet, in addition to UV rays. yellow and green tints block mainly the blue spectrum which is useful if you are sking or out on the water. frosted pink lenses do fuck all. you might as well run around clucking like a chicken for all the good. why? cos it is as useless and you will look as silly. oh oh, you think it looks cool. well so does every piece of rancid slut that try to pass themselves off as vaguely worth a bullocks. i hope that you get cataracts cos you were too busy being cool instead of blocking those uv rays. 5. every second person, telling you how glorious it is out there. refer point 1 and pray that they die of heatstroke. 6. tanning. If god made you a pasty white motherfucker, well then thats really your lot in the world yes? If you were not blessed with browness, then blame your parents for not cross breeding and giving your ass a chance. Blame your grandparents for being supremesists who would not breed with the natives and thus would have made you a mullato. so you people who want to get some color and burn in the sun for hours. hey moron! if god wanted to to be blessed with browness, he would have made you indian. so deal with it. i hope you get skin cancer, you fucking deserve it. i am not done yet, you fake tanners, you are just like micheal jackson. think about it. yeah you know it dont you. ohh, i want to be spray painted a color that i am not. but mike is just denying himself? suck on it mofos. too much of that, you might just end up a kiddie fiddler. i will stop here for now but there is more - fat chicks, the beach [oh just great, sand and water = mud, you moron], thongs, armpit hair and lots more. and before i go, remember when dealing with stupid people, evolution is a fact not a suggestion. think about it.

whats with queqing for tickets the night before?

I am sitting at the cafe and there are a bunch of freaks who have set up their fucking shop outside the ticketmaster. What kind of super loser would do such a loser thing? If you dont have the connections to score tickets, has it ever struck you that you are just not worthy. You are an inconsequential nobody digit and you dont deserve a ticket. The least you can do is find some other loser who would take your place to help you score some tickets. You sicken me.

zimn zamn brook spirit

mrbrown is on holiday in melbourne. he is one of the most famous blogger in singapore. he has been blogging on the road about his experiences. johann is a singaporean dude who is crazy like a coconut, that is, he is cycling from turkey to new zealand. he was in melbourne recently and i caught up with him. it was interesting to meet and talk to someone who is living the research i do. another note: what is a blogder? it seems that rather than use 'blogger', the uniquely xiaxue has given it a twist. it seems to be almost like 'blog-duh', by which of course i mean 'like, i blog. duh!'. i could make fun of her but that would only unleash the vast blog police. xiaxue is a formidable minx, i dare say. she makes for good reading. she is so popular that she has her own clones - plagarisers that have the own blogs. if only imitation were flattery. and this one is for hammy. he has been a tad upset since the election did not turn out quite how he expected. i dig what you say man, but i say this to you - "aint democracy is bitch!". there has been a lot of comiseration in the various mailing lists and forums, but it just seems like sour grapes. obviously, we are a minority. but we cant get all arrogant and blame auss-tray-yah. wait till the americas speak. holy buggery bananas. trendy phrases to explain elections: *if only the people knew who to vote for. ah the masses. cant live with them, cant live without them. *well, if we dont get the government we want, we definitely get the one we deserve. *this is just reflective of the move towards greater fundamentalism as our society deals with the tensions of globalisation *but this is same country that voted out ricki-lee

aural investments ratings press release

bill laswell - dark massive/disengage [ambient compendium] cd1 5/5 cd2 4/5 bill laswell - invisible design *not rated/still listening bill laswell and jah wobble - radioaxiom 5/5 cheb i sabbah - krishna lila 4.5/5 colder - again *not rated/still listening rakesh chaurasia and talvin singh - vira 5/5 ryuichi sakamoto - bttb [back to the basics] 4.5/5 sacred system - chapter one- book of entrance 3.5/5 sacred system - chapter two 3.5/5 sacred system - nagual site 4/5 scissor sisters - scissor sisters 4/5 steve roach - space and time 4.5/5 tabla beat science - tala matrix 4/5 the suns - rock 3.5/5 various - flexistentialism: the joy of dex/scratchmological waxploitation cd1 3.5/5 cd2 3.5/5 various - the classical indian collection cd1 4/5 cd2 4/5 one of lectures i will be giving at SIM is on 'music and the glocal response'. for this lecture i will be focusing mainly on indian music - classical, flimi and diasporic. i want to do something on the singaporean glocal response to music, and if anyone has suggestions on interesting singaporean music, let me know.

*blugh*

The Christian nerd factor for this particular war in Iraq has been higher than usual, and for obvious reasons. who says research is pointless? ghandi vs howard sleeping through sex looking for a job?

Derrida Dies at 74

derrida has joined the realm of the other DFTs [dead french theorists]. i am generally not a big fan of his work being more of a foucault and deleuze type of guy. derrida's approach is very useful but i feel it tends to collapse into itself. but his work on meaning is so relevant given the climate around osama, bush and a whole bunch of that kind of stuff. furthermore, i think it probably has to do with the fact that i am looking much more at the issues of poltical economy in terms of governmentality and resistance. blahblahblah.... a piece in the telegraph that is defintely worth a read - Jacques Derrida. update: superman has died. not a big fan of the reeve for a bunch of reasons. but the superman is dead. and thats kind of shit.

FBI seizes Indymedia servers

What the hell is going on? This, coupled with a bunch of other recent acts, troubles me deeply. What ever happened to the "freedom" that is touted repeatedly? Media consolidation is a serious issue and one that needs our urgent attention unless you want the media industry to go the way of the music industry with the brittneys and jessicas. cos people, that is excalty where this is headed. the need for independant and community media is now absolutely paramount. and we need to be a part of this. we need to get our voices out, get our thoughts and views out. and we need to get them out LOUD! we don't need the 'media'. we need people to start saying - 'look here, this is just not on. and this is what i think of it.' FBI seizes Indymedia servers - Breaking - http://www.theage.com.au/technology/

spiffy sentences

'ironically, the very scientific worldview and runaway technological acceleration some say have produced the spriritual vacuum and societal fragmentation that are fertile gorund for millenarian beliefs are spawning a technoeschatology of their own - a theology of the ejector seat.' - Mark Dery, Escape Velocity: Cyberculture at the End of the Century 'what i have said here is not 'what i think', but often rather what i wonder whether one couldn't think.' - Michel Foucault, Power and Strategies 'A book is a small cog in a much more complex, external machinery. Writing is a flow among others; it enjoys no special privilege and enters into relationships of current and countercurrent, of back-wash with other flows - the flows of shit, sperm, speech, action, eroticism, money, politics, etc. Like Bloom, writing on the sand with one hand and masturbating with the other - two flows in what relationship?' - Gilles Deleuze, I have nothing to admit

the blog strikes back

So i have not blogged for a while, a long while. And i have had the blog police hounding me. ok, not hounding but i did get a few irate emails. I would be flattered but they were more about being bored than 'i miss your super amazing mega interesting writing.' It was not very easy to not blog. But the blog become the public face of the blogger. And one starts to care about what is being written instead of just writing. You look at the world with blog potential lens. You start to think in blog. After a while of not blogging, it became hard to write something blog worthy. There were many ideas but excuses are so much easier. It was weird. I even thought of starting another blog to get the juices going, to make a new start. The projectmaya was too heavy, too important, too close a place to be silly. And it was always written by terry johal. In the end, it was just a matter of saying, 'bugger that, here goes fuck all'. So the blog is back. But it will be a tad different me thinks. Hmm.. i think maybe i need a space where i dont have to be terry johal. Where i can write aways from the history and story of terry. Maybe somewhere nobody knows terry johal or maybe an anonymous blog. This might be rather dramatic and unnecessary. Perhaps, but like i say in my lectures on creative communication, 'this is my space, fuck you if you dont like it'.

The Return of the Kink - 2004/2005 Tour

The Kink will be touring for the first time in more than three long years. The Kink will be embarking on a four country tour in a few weeks and this is your chance to see The Kink after all this while. Book your tickets now! The first five bookings [via return email] will get to meet The Kink backstage and be given the opportunity to hang with him. Don’t wait! Get your tickets now! 13 Nov – 30 Nov Singapore* 1 Dec –7 Dec Bangkok** 8 Dec – 22 Dec Melbourne* 23 Dec – 31 Jan Kuala Lumpur and Ipoh**+ 1 Jan – 18 Jan Singapore* * Tickets still available ** Very Limited Tickets available + Exact dates and venues will be announced pending negotiation with promoters. ------ Responses So Far That Have Won Backstage Passes * please can I get two tickets under Snowflake and Fluffy Bunny please? * Arh… dun quite remember them. But wouldn’t u be in town when the kink is here? * Dear Sir, I'm writing in response to the latest tour update of The Kink and I'm interested in whether or not there is a guest list available for the Singapore slots. If so please add my name to it. More backstage passes still available.

Its been a long time since i rocked and rolled

here's a quick bunch of stuff to update youse awl. i am officially a phd candidate. For my upgrade from a masters, the school decided to have the candidate perform an oral defence of the thesis proposal and the work done to that point. I had my oral defence a couple of weeks ago and largely managed to clear it however, after my oral defence the school decided that it would be the first and last in the foreseeable future. I was told it had nothing to do with me. Australian idol is back on and i have no idea whom the people like. I have been wrong all but once. Ricki lee – why would any parent give their child a hyphenated name? I dont get that. How does a parent decide that their child is so special that it needs not one but two first names? I will be going to singapore in late november and early january to teach at singapore institute of mangement for the RMIT mass communication program. I will be teaching contempoary pop culture in november and new communication technologies in january. In between, i shall attempt to visit the lynx in bangkok. [maybe hook up with dr dick and his little woman friend aka wifey chick over xmas in the ipoh]. I have promised to provide my supervisor with four chapters before i leave for singapore. And i have promised very publicaly. I have written so far what i can technically refer to as fuck all. Now that semester has ended, i have a whole bunch of essays to mark and marks to collate. And i have to put togther a reader each of the subjects i will be teaching. Of course, the co-lecturers will help but i have to still do at least my share. Which i have done, to some extent. I have definetly thought about the what should be in the readers. I have booked my motorbike learners at the end of the month. And i have decided to get myself the virago 250 sometime at the end of jan when i get back from singapore. I am going to be like a biker dude. Sweet. I have to write a couple of abstracts by the end of the week for submission for a conference in beijing in august. And another for a conference in christchurch. The uni will not pay for any of these conferences but its all for the greater good of terry. I have a couple of things to get done for polyglot as well. And my other side projects that have not so far left the ground in any significnat manner. But i have a good idea of what my ideas should be like. I am sure there is more but this is all that comes to mind at this time.

joe vs the volcano

here are some quotes from one of th bestest movies ever made, ever. Mr. Waturi: "And what's this about a doctor's appointment? You're always going to the doctor!" Joe Banks: "I don't feel good." Mr. Waturi: "So what? You think I feel good? Nobody feels good. After childhood, it's a fact of life. I feel rotten. So what? I don't let it bother me or interfere with my job." ----- Dr. Ellison: "You can depend on at least four or five months of perfect health." Joe: "Wait, what are you talking about? I don't feel good right now." Dr. Ellison: "That's the ironic part, really. Mr. Banks, you're a hypochondriac. There's nothing wrong with you that has anything to do with your symptoms. Now my guess is that your experiences in the fire department were extremely traumatic. You experienced the imminent possibility of death several times." Joe: "Yeah." Dr. Ellison: "You survived. But the cumulative anxiety of those brushes with death left you habitually fearful about your physical person." Joe: "I'm not sick except for this terminal disease?" Dr. Ellison: "Which has no symptoms. That's right. It was only because of your insistence on having so many tests that we happened to discover the problem." ----- Joe: "Brain cloud! I knew it! Well, I didn't know it, but... I knew it!" ----- Mr. Waturi: "No! No! You were wrong! He was wrong! Who said that? I didn't say that. If I said that, I would have been wrong. I would have been wrong. Isn't tht right, Harry?" ----- Marshall: "And what kind of clothes do you got now?" Joe: "Well, I got the kind of clothes I'm wearing." Marshall: "So, you got no clothes." ----- Luggage Salesman: "Have you thought much about luggage, Mr. Banks?" Joe: "No. I never really have." Luggage Salesman: "It's the central preoccupation of my life. You travel the world, you're away from home, perhaps away from your family, all you have to depend on is yourself, and your luggage." ----- Angelica Graynamore: "I'm the doughter of the guy who hired you, Angelica Graynamore." Joe: "Uh, it's nice to meet you." Angelica Graynamore: "Nice to meet you. Daddy told me to say I don't know why he hired you, and not to tell me. That I'm totally untrustworthy. I'm a flibbertigibbet." ----- Angelica Graynamore: "So, what'd you do before you signed on with Daddy?" Joe: "I was an advertising librarian for a medical supply company." Angelica Graynamore: "Oh, I have no response to that." ----- Angelica Graynamore: "Would you like to hear one of my poems?" Joe: "Sure." Angelica Graynamore: "'Long ago, the delicate tangles of his hair covered the emptiness of my hands.' Would you like to hear it again?" Joe: "Okay."

sheer random bits tits

"I could understand Americans trying to grab patent rights over Basmati rice and neem products - where they mercifully failed - but how can anyone patent thought and meditation?" wrote the author Khushwant Singh in The Tribune. But resort administrator Yogendra - a Canadian lawyer formerly known as Darcy O'Byrne - says changes such as seeking copyright in the US are just common sense. "Those people from India," he says, "they don't really understand copyright." ** Not Bhagwan's bag? [Peter Schwab, a footy coached fired a few weeks ago, being asked who should take over as coach] "It is sometimes a bit like asking who is going to marry your ex-wife." ** Hawks taking time: Schwab some eavesdropping "i am very good at the sucking" - two indian guys leaving nova cinema "i always play down my asianness. i cant stand those asian asians." a chinese guy walking down the street with three other chinese guys. "thunder, lightening, very very frightening" - channel nine footy comentator when the swans/eagles game was delayed for 30 mins due to, wait for it, thunder and lightening. a im convo i just had dude: Just had a dream abt you... tezza: dude dude: man, it rocks! dude: dreamt of you tearing your head apart tezza: wow, glamour tezza: how? dude: you fingered into your skull dude: then in a stripping action, you flunt your scalp onto the floor dude: the most memorable bit was your hair, like feathers, it was floating in the air before it got rested. dude: so picturesque dude: so artsy. dude: so you. tezza: dude, that is some freaky ass shit dude: freaky? dude: haha...it seemed you enjoyed the attention, at least in the dream dude: like you wanted to be watched, hence every motion was measured, and you did all of it, with a smile. seriously, i almost never do that anymore. lastly, go and watch The Corporation. seriously, it rocks the casbah like a mofo.

i am addicted to that little alkaloid

its true. i have a habit. several times a day i take a hit of a psychoactive drug. it used to be presribed as a decongestant, mild painkiller, an appetite suppressant and as a stimulant. i can go a day or two without it, but it just keeps calling me. so take it from someone who has given up giving up. for more information, go here. recent conversation i overhead ----- i was sitting in the tram a few days ago. in the lull between songs i swear i heard one chick say to another "... and i even let him stick it up my arse ...". i hit the pause button sharply but after that it was all about her bastard cheating boyfriend. this really should be a story for tramspotting. make people and influece friends 2 ----- someone's friend proposed to someone at the effiel tower in paris - blah blah. my reaction - 'how tacky.' 'its not his fault that he is so stupid, its more likely than not genetic.' 'love? eva braun was in love too.' recent book purchases ------ the roaring nineties by joseph stiglitz quirky qwerty: the story of the keyboard @ your fingertips by torbjorn lundmark difference and repetition by gilles deleuze the complete yes prime minister by jonathan lynn and antony jay the rainbow connection: the internet and the singapore gay community

naked blondie indians

anyway, i was image googling 'india' and every page had a pix of some naked chick. and she wasnt even indian. strange. i mean, if she was indian, it would make some sense. but a blondie, it does not make any sense. its insane, nutty, crazy even. and the indian sites had a different map of india from the pakistani sites. it was interesting to see which sites showed tibet and which showed china instead. one map even had east pakistan on it. ah, the politics of of the two-dimension. why india? well, i have to get ready a two hour lecture - 'india: the new tiger?' - by tomorrow arvo. the thing i find about writing lectures is that the hardest part is coming up with a structure. the rest then just falls into place. now, mostly, once that is sorted out, i go pretty much on the fly. i find that to be the easiest way to present my information and arguments with a few points and then just jabber away. it works well for me. but this lecture is not quite my area of research. i dont know why i said i could do it. its the arrogant blugh in me that takes it all as a challenge. i have given lectures on india, flims and music before and i have spoken about the issues that india faces for lectures on globalization. anyway, as this is a new lecture, so i have read up on like figures and stats and remember whatnots. i usually just recall stuff but this time i have nothing to recall. anywhos, enough not doing my work.

make people and influence friends

1. When arguing with older people about young people being angry and political, try not to say, ‘it’s the ferocity of youth before age dulls the blade’.
2. When listening to ‘chocolate salty balls’ by Isaac Hayes on the headphones while wandering around the supermarket, try not to sing along aloud.
3. When asked for your opinion about someone you know, avoid the phrase ‘she’s very blonde’; especially, when asked by a blonde.
4. When your housemate who has had red, pink, purple and orange hair over the last few months and has now decided to let his original hair color grow out says to you 'i have so many white hairs, seriously', don't tell him, 'yah, but you are almost thirty'.
5. When service staff ask ‘how’s it going?’, avoid staring and saying ' do you actually care? Do you?'.
6. When in doubt, it is usually a new hairstyle.
7. When in a crowd, don't attempt to break the ice by telling people that you can burp and fart at the same time.

my hero sandwich

what is the point of the olympics? seriously. 'higher, faster, stronger' would make more sense if ron jeremy said it. ohh, you run in a straight line, wow! oh wait, you can run around the bend and you can run the whole oval shape. i am well impressed. and you can throw this round metal disc/ball/ball-on-a-chain/pointy-stick. well, fuckin 'ell, isnt that just peachy? and what about you sweet people who can swim, fast. you'll do well when the polar caps melt. dont get me wrong now. i have nothing against these oily-pee-ants. i think ian thrope is wunderbar [well, he has huge feet], but consider this. dude, as deleuze said 'admit it'. its all a bunch of whatever sweetie anyway. jana pitman is one of the most focused and driven competitors. but hey, dont give me the great aussie hero crap. the olympics is for a bunch of selfish, doped up, state-indulged egocentric whatevers. they do what they do not for oz-tray-yah, but for themselves. that what being a sportsperson is about. you can only push yourself because you want it. so dont give me this great hero crap. so, i have decided to boycott the oily-pics because i am sick of this hero crap. if i were training, what, five, six days a week for years, working and training to that one event, that would be my job. it wouldnt make me a hero cos i achieved something that i do all the time, something i am working towards. we dont call garbos heros when they pick up our trash, even when its done terribly well. i have never call the coffee making dudes or dudettes heros on that one day when the lattes is perfect. so why is it different for the oily-pee-ants? also, would it then mean that those that dont win are unheroic? or maybe even villainous? so, who are the heros? peter hughes is a hero. peter who? peter hughes. so, please curse out the next person who says that these oilys are heros, and explain gently in mono-syllabic words why thropie is just very good at what he does but not a hero because of it. *apologies for using chauvinist language ref hero. but with the thropedo it would just confuse me more. ----- Morning Walk to Uni in the Fog Song No Feelings by Sex Pistols "I see you stupid people / out looking for delight / well I'm so happy / I'm feeling so fine / I'm watching all the rubbish / you're wasting my time"

faadoogles I say, faadoggles

There is something surreal about stumbling into the supermarket minutes after they open, soundtracked to bad 80s music. Its like one of those times when one has van winkled ones life and awakes to find everyone gone. It is rather unnerving. The good thing is that Druids opens at 6ish so I have somewhere to score my morning brew. Hmm… caffeine. i should get back to work. i have managed, with little effort, to write almost nothing today, the almost being 74 words. But I did spend much time thinking about the fact that I have not done much. And I spent much time talking to various people about various things. And i know very definitely in which manner 'however' can be used. Thats all work. --- Song of the day: What I Am by Edie Brickell and The New Bohemians “I'm not aware of too many things / I know what I know if you know what I mean” Word of the day: hungelicious - when food tastes delicious but mainly because one is hungry.

the evils of kite-flying

as a young researcher and hopefully more in the future, its a strange world where you have to navigate blind and learn as you go along. there is no degree or course you can take to learn the ins and outs of academia. its pretty much pick it up as you go. which just makes the need for a good collegial atmosphere of nurturing senior academics, people who are willing to share to their knowledge and experience, vital. i have been lucky to have meet a few of these especially in the recent months. but recently i have meet the other side as well. i have been accused of kite-flying, not having an argument or thesis, of being unable to hold my own scholarly profile, and so on. and thats fine. we are all entitled to our views and i am open to criticisms. what i cannot accept and will not entertain is arrogance and personal attacks. i do not appreciate being talked down to, in a condescending tone by anyone. ever. a part of me says ‘its on mofos’ but the part that says ‘whatever dude’ usually wins. i am more than willing to debate our points but when it gets personal, i get feral. and there is no coming back from the feral. i am not willing to debase myself for this one disagreeable nugget. on another note this made me laugh yesterday: “Of course, to start with, there was no such thing as cultural studies. What there was, was literary studies, which had no theoretical content and in which one was judged by how vigorously one vibrated when brought into close proximity to a classic text.” – Graeme Turner ----- Song of the day: Perfect by Fairground Attraction "It's got to be perfect / It's got to be worth it / yeah / Too many people take second best / But I won't take anything less / It's got to be / yeah / pertect "

styles elemental

We just had a bit of a debate here in the postgrad room about the use of the word ‘however’. It seems that there are two camps in this debate; one that allows the use of however to start a sentence (as in “however, given that blah, we can blah blah.’) and the other which does not accepts its use in such a manner and only as a conjunction (as in “we can blah, however, given that blah blah.).

Conventionally, a subordinating conjunction indicates the dependant clause and demonstrates the relationship between the independent and dependant clauses. HOWEVER, I think that using a subordinating conjunction at the beginning of a sentence is fine as the dependant clause seems less like an afterthought or simply a qualifier of the independent clause. It also allows for a better flow into, and, more obvious connection to, the subsequent sentence. A careful and economical use of subordinating conjunctions to begin sentences can serve as a forceful way to express one’s argument.

For example - “However, given that this is that, we can position that as this.” - the emphasis in this sentence is on the “that as this” and it is the point that the reader leaves with and can also link easily with the next sentence, which would explain the why “that as this”.

These are some of the other suggestions to replace ‘however’ - conversely, alternatively, on the other hand, important to note, notably, indeed, in as so much.

--------------

Word of the day:
“palimpsest” - this actually means a parchment that can be erased and written on again. The previous text might still be visible.

Sentence of the day:
“A dash is a mark of separation stronger than a comma, less formal than a colon, and more relaxed than parentheses.” Strunk and White 2000, The Elements of Style

i am blogging this

Ah dear hammy [but the rest of you can read this too – I am just that generous]

As you say, maybe I should take more of an interest in Australia. I guess more as in beyond the rugby and dingoes.

Lets talk of telstra. I believe that utilities, infrastructure, education and health should not be privatized. So that’s that. End of telstra discussion. I think we can pat each other on the back, grow some dreads and not bathe.

Now, lets talk of the Internet. Lets define it as the world wide web and communicative technologies that use the architecture of the Internet to transmit. Now, what are the tools of the Internet? Ah that’s the crux, no? Then what of information communication technologies [ICTs]? What strange beast is that? And where the hell does digital technology fit into all this? Lets not even go into convergent technologies.

My point is this, we don’t even know what communication technologies are? This confusion is the first thing that needs to be sorted. Why? So that we can move into configuring uses that maximize. This is vital. The terms above are bandied about by everyone willy nilly and we all know that a nilly willy is just trouble waiting to happen. [“There's no stoppin' what can't be stopped, no killin' what can't be killed. “ King Willie in Predator 2] This inadvertently serves muddy and confuse. Remember Wittgenstein - it is the use of a word in language that makes its meaning [paraphrased]. We need to know what we are talking about and what their potential is.

You have fallen, it seems if I am not mistaken, in the same trap of conflating Internet and democracy. I am wary of that path. I am coming to think that we need to divide democracy and the Internet in to stages. There are a variety of markers to consider; hardware, software, humanware, infrastructure, socio-economic segments, self-expression and so on. I am still working on this.

A couple of things strike me as I talk to various people. One is the prevalence of determinist thinking. Perhaps it is the hangover from the enlightenment. The enlightenment was not all bad, just mostly. But it brought about rationalism and efficiency. And I could go on. But to say that the Internet limits democracy more than increases it or vice versa, is in my opinion, is a tad, well, not to put a too fine a point on it, silly. Determinism is, in my mind, in the same cesspit as essentialism and reductionism. It is an exercise of the intellectually lazy. Its also insulting to the human race and is racist [I think you would agree with me]. But it is attractive for seemingly providing answers easily and in consumable chunks.

The other thing is that many are still entrenched in hierarchical and structural thinking. We are perhaps used to the centralized structures of governance and society as especially traditional media. but when dealing with the Internet, we need to abandon this way of corralling our potential and look to be free. I think I have said this, perhaps not well, in my earlier post. We need to rethink our relationship with the Internet not as media form but as a space which we can reclaim and make it our place.

On another note, say it proud I have removed some of the blogs on my blogroll and put some others that i enjoy reading. knock yourself out.

a right ole bee-aatch

ok, there is some serious unhappiness going on at the moment. i love my mac, natasha, and my ipod, hmm... ipod. but there is some bullshit about it that has pissed me off seriously like. first, and this is the bastard one. ms word has died on me a few times. it just "unexpected quits". what the hell does that mean? is that unlike quiting out of boredom? i dont get it. i am in the middle of writing and then fuck me, its dead. dead not unexpected nothing. it just refuses to load up after that. the solution is to then reload it. i dont like that cos i use all the amendments i have made to the normal template, the sytles and autocorrects etc. this has happened a few too many times. i have had to set my auto save at 1 min. oh, then they ask you to send a crash report. whats the point? is the abyss going to say something back to me? bullocks. its pissed me off proper like. and they have the nerve to ask me to upgrade to office 2004. and dont tell me to use someother program. i need ms word cos the whole bloody world uses ms word. i need to write my thesis on this bastard program. i need that bastard powerpoint to do slides for lectures. its got to the point that my office cd is just left in the drive cos whats the point really of taking it out? secondly, stev0 - the housemate is back from sunny climes of singapore. he got me my headphones and they rule. it looks like they might last me a while since i am the great destroyer of heaphones. which brings me to mac, why would they give such crappy headphones with the ipod. i am not audiophile or whatever. i just want headphones whose bass responce is decent. and where the sound does not crack at the lower end of the scale. did i just get a crap pair or are theu just bad? i mean i have had my ipod for what two months and i have had to spend more money getting a decent pair of headphones. bah!

filing is fun

The paper is finally finished. Chop sign. I have sent it and now for a nervous wait for the next few months while they decide if it is good enough to be published. the aftermath of paper - a filing cabinet exploded, red pens everywhichwhere, draft upon draft upon draft, scraps of notes postits. Today is clean it up day. Have to sort all the papers i used, again and put them back into the filing cabinet, again. of course some will go back to the safe hiding place under my desk next to my milo cereal box. One of the problems that many of us postgrads talk about is filing. Seriously. I was stressed out like a mofo cos I could not find this one article that I had referred to from memory. It was on Singapore and the censorship of the Internet. But I needed to be sure that I was not mis-referenceing it and had to find it. It was not in my Singapore file, it was not in my censorship file, not even misc Singapore/Internet file. After going thru stacks of what was not that paper, I found it in my Internet file. Who would have thunk it? Filing and referencing styles. Forget that theory crap. Bah! Oh, and endless discussions about endnote. soundtrack for writing: supplied by the good people at dub beautiful supplied by the good people at soma fm groove salad, drone zone and beat blender

soundtracked rites ii

i have been writing very successfully to music of bill laswell but only his more indian flavoured albums. there is something very organic and hypnotic about the sound of the tabla in particular. it just lulls me into a calmness and centeredness that allows me to focus on my writing. so i went to cdconnections and bought a bunch of bill laswell cds. i figured that they will cost me whatever i make in my first tute this week and then i can use the rest [tute 2&3] on more laswell and maybe some dj cheb sabbah in a couple of weeks time. the main drive for this new music is that it actually helps me to focus while writing. for a while, bad techno [i know - all techno is bad, other than underworld, digweed and sasha] was doing the trick for me. but now, its deadness and soulness is instead working against me writing. i need some more depth. is all good eh. i have pretty much finished writing my paper - controlling the internet: the use of legislation and its effectiveness in singapore. i will have to send it in tomorrow and then hope that it passes the peer-review process. if it does, then it will be published sometime before the end of the year. after that, i can go back to getting the singapore symposium sorted and ready to go for 9/8 at the state library. then get to getting my upgrade proposal done and into the research committee. then back to my research and to writing as much as possible. its back to the writing for now. got to clean up the paper and sort the citations and bibliography. soundtrack for writing the last two days: ravi shanker - ravi shankar at the woodstock festival tabla beat science - tala matrix bill laswell and sacred system - nagula site nusrat fateh ali khan and michael brook - night song

Reclaiming The Internet: From Passive Consumption to Creative Communication

The question you [hammy] have raised is the question of the digital divide. But before i deal with that, i think we need to examine closely the rhetorical compression that has happened with the internet [icts in general] and democracy. then into that mix is slipped neo-liberal economic rationalism. that is the crux of the matter, that the technology is used to rationlise a particular economic philosophy. hence the 'check our website'. the digital divide in a country australia, an OECD country, is a sad problem. but not an insurmountable one. couple of things

1. the network is only as good as the weakest part,
2. the node [computer] needs to be focused on primary task - communication [which brings down costs]
3. respect the bandwidth,
4. understand the audience and their paths into the network
5. understand that technology is hardware, software and humanware
6. there is no audience.

pt 6 is strange but let me briefly explain. the problem is that like i argue below, we need to conceptualise our relationship with the internet. in a few words, the internet is not a media form, that is, a conduit, it is a space, which we then must reclaim from commodification and make it a place.

---

The Internet has been heralded as a force for democracy by many media and political commentators, especially in regimes that control the media environment. The Internet was to provide access to information, access that could not be prevented except with the most draconian of measures. The Internet considered censorship, the blocking of access, as damage and merely routed around it. The Internet was to be an electronic global agora. The rhetoric of the Internet, however, is woven together with the ideology of neo-liberal economic rationalism and presented to us as the fabric that is globalisation. These twin towers of globalisation were supposed to bring freedom to the peoples in despotic and dictatorial regimes; the freedom to exercise the right to consume both information and products. If authoritarian and totalitarian regimes wished to plug into the global economy and not get left behind, then embracing the Internet was vital; and the Internet was to provide opportunity for uncensorable access to information, which would lead to democracy via information and economic success. The conflation of economics and democratisation is ubiquitous in the rhetoric of the championing of the Internet. Information communication technologies, of which the Internet is a part of, are a vital component of the global economic system of out-sourcing of production and services, and the disintegration of traditional vertical structures of multi-national corporations. Media industries are no longer localised but look to create products that have to compete in the global marketplace. The same can be said of media infrastructure; with the digitisation of communication networks. The conglomeration of media entities enables them to consolidate resources so as to be able to lower costs and increase reach. Telecommunications is now considered a part of the ICT industry where the market is no longer local but global. This, however, would not be possible unless access into foreign markets is free of barriers and tariffs. This – the role of ICT and democracy - is all a part of the package that is sold to us as globalisation, which is essentially neo-liberal economic rationalism. In its early manifestations, when the Internet was in its infancy, it used primarily for the sharing of resources and information. The underlying ethos that catalsyted the Internet was to allow universities and private and government research institutes to share computers, which were the size of large refrigerators, and computing power, which at that point was limited. As more nodes were added and the more users logged on, it moved from merely resource sharing to become a text-based world of emails and bulletin boards and these exchanges intensified, developing into a global dialogue and debate. However, the coming of hypertext and graphic user interfaces as well as the lower costs of computers and Internet connectivity, has lead to the popularisation of the Internet which in turn has lead to the comodification of both the users and the information. Arguably, while the increased user-friendliness of the Internet has increased its reach and potential, it has also lead to its ‘dumbing down’, in particular in the way users conceptualise their usage of the Internet, from creative to the consumptive, from active creators to passive consumers, from digital to analogue. While the Internet is part of the larger ‘being digital’ of communication technology, it is arguably the flagbearer and first point of contact in terms of thinking of the ‘being digital’ for majority of users. This ‘being digital’ means that information, be it textual, visual, audio or video, is converted into electronic binary packets and as such, that information can be transported quickly and without compromise in quality over long distances over the network as well as that the information is easily reproducible with its fidelity maintained, manipulable and the storage and recovery of such digital information is easier and cost effective. This ‘being digital’ allows information to travel across borders without discrimination. This is the ‘being digital’ of the information and the manner in which that information can be used and abused. While much of this ‘being digital’ has been appropriated by the certain segments of the users, the general experience of the everyday users is still based very much in thinking of their relationship with the Internet in terms of their relationship with traditional analogue media – a one-way passive relationship of consuming media. The Internet was designed to be an open system of communication and hence the belief that it is indestructible. However, with commercialisation of the Internet and the need to quantify and identify the audience, the Internet is becoming a closed system where the users experience has to be curtailed and guided in a particular and profitable path. The Internet is now digital more in terms of its transmission than the manner in which it is approached and used. So, while the Internet does offer the average user with considerable access to information and, its technologies and interfaces offer the ability to navigate through the Internet effectively and easily, these same technologies and interfaces define the manner in which the Internet is used. The Internet has become predominantly about consumption of information experience, rather than one where users are creating the content. The Internet was considered a force for democratisation, especially in controlled media environment as it promised, firstly, to provide unfettered access to information, which is has delivered fairly successfully, and secondly, to facilitate citizen participation in the processes of government, whose success is limited and mainly administrative and for the dissemination of information. The early rhetoric of the Internet and democracy emphasised on the participation of the citizenry, the active engagement by users with the political processes such that the Internet community could be positioned as the fifth estate. The Internet could become a part of the political processes when users not only accessed information but also provided content. This is where the Internet has not fulfilled its promise. The Internet is still conceptualised by its users along the same lines as users conceptualise traditional analogue media, that is, a one-way passive consumptive experience. We need to reclaim the Internet from its highly commodified form and reconfigure our experience with it to one closer to that of the early days of the Internet, where users were communicating creatively instead of consuming passively. With the various technologies available, the users ability to create content quickly and without specialised knowledge is tremendous.

ohhh, that's me

the panel yesterday was pretty good fun. i got to give a 15min presentation with my techno-evangelist hat on. its amazing how misunderstood the internet and icts in general are. the problem it seems to be is that we have let the technology become the boss rather than the audience, then we blame the internet for not being all it was cracked up to be. oh ah, the internet is not very useful. oh ah, nobody visits the sites we set up and such. i think we need to rethink what we want from the technology rather than the technology can give us. we need look at the way that technology that works. i just read hammy's comment on my previous post. and i will answer that soon - well, i will lift bits out of my summaries and post that. in the meantime, check out how cool i am on the panel. i am so rock and roll, yeah baby!

re-re-wind soundtracked rites

it seems i have been anointed. i have been renamed. terry no longer, its tezzaAAA. before, it was very few friends who called me that. now, i get emails from people in my department addressed to tez or tezza. the good coffee people at the cafe love to go tezzaaAAA. i have had students go - tezza. i have been called many things so its another one to learn to respond to. somehow, texymaxy never caught on, eh lynx? on another note, i dont get people who stream past you going 'hey, hoahsitgoin' - leaving me to answer in the split second where we are caught mid-stream - 'heyah, not too bad, thanks. yourself?'. by then they have moved on to another postcode. i think the singaporean head bob/eyebrow raise is far more efficient. at least you are not left talking to yourself. soundtrack for writing the last few days: sigur ros - () sigur ros - agaetis byrjun radiohead - hail to the thief radiohead - com lag bill evans - never let me go bill laswell and sacred system - nagual site bill laswell - panthalassa:the music of miles davis 1969-1974 i really wish i could find a copy of ryuichi sakamoto's 1996. i lost my copy ages ago, but it seems that it would be prefect to be writing to. and i need new headphones. the ones that come with the ipod dont have much of a bass response. in fact, they seem to 'crack' at the lower end of things. stev0 - you hear me? sort it out like mike. i will be on a panel tonight on 'The Internet and Opposition Politics in Asia' organised by The Australian Institute of International Affairs [Dyason House 124 Jolimont Road East Melbourne] if anyone is interested. the write-uppers a discussion of how new technologies, and in particular the internet, are being used by political parties and other groups in Asia. The evening will involve both the launching of a new book, and a panel discussion on some of the issues it raises. Unlike most publications that focus on the technology, this book (edited by James Gomez) focuses on the human actors. Asian Cyberactivism: Freedom of Expression and Media Censorship records political activism and failures of cyberactivists as they try to beat the various censorship regimes in Asia. The book is an insightful look into online political organising in Asia, even as the technology and the rules change. Activists provide their perspectives on how new media relates to democracy, and showcase examples that could be emulated to further the cause of democracy. It is also an insight into the political, societal and legal challenges that cyberactivists have to face, and what this means for democratic development in the region.

-- alls well --

i am sitting at my desk, early early in the morning before any one else is here. the weather is gray and wet. my office is dark and cold, just me sitting by the cone of yellow light of my desk lamp and the glows from my screens. just had a breakfast of chocolate digestives and a latte. have to try and write a 1000 words today.

panic, almost complete panic

i began the day as i do most mondays - backing up all my research files for the previous week. and it was all good. i use some thing called iMsafe. it has so far worked a charm. its been as they say, "too easy". and then it happened. every word file i opened would automatically shut itself down. every single word file was useless. the good thing was it had all already been backed up. the bad news is that i cannot afford to not have a functional computer, especialy since i have 'given' away the desktop i waited a year for the uni to give me. eventually, after hours of all kinds of whatnots, i had to reinstall office X. well, bugger me with a fish fork. but it all works now. my morning has been 'burnt' but natasha is back fully fit. and i have no idea what went wrong where. and now its 4pm and i have a lecture to write for tomorrow. i have one called 'Introduction to Theories of Globalization:Politics, Economics and Culture' which i have delivered many times but this one has to be a new one. its called 'Globalization in Australia-Asia:Challenges and Opportunities'. it for a subject that i am tutoring in this semester called 'current issues in australian/asian studies'. i usually begin my globalisation lectures with the parable of the six blind men and the elephant, but this bunch of stuidents have already heard me use it a year ago. so i have to come up with a new thingee. i wanted to show a video but the one i want has been borrowed out from the library. what to do, what to do? i should begin by just writing the lecture.

stop reading if you are a student

tomorrow I begin tutoring again after taking a semester off to concentrate on my research. its been a good semester of work and now back to trying to get the rent paid. or buy more ipod knick-knacks. i figured that one of my 60 students might decide to google me. That’s a scary thought, no? my blog turns up in the first few links. hmm... that is something to consider. do I want my students, even if the chances are remote, to be reading my blog. will they see my old entries and wonder? to be honest, while not a major thingee, it is still something to think about. I just prepared a few handouts for them. One detailing my expectations of them for the next 13 weeks of classes and my criteria for assessment. Another was an excerpt from the craft of research on formulationg questions. And one from david gauntlet on essay writing. [david's site is really heaps of fun. definitely worth checking out. there are trading cards that are just awesome. it also has lego theorist and action figures] so tomorrow it begins. i am far more comfortable lecturing than tutoring. but to be honest, i love both, especially tutoring all of you. [just in case they are reading today] all the stuff you have heard about me being a harsh marker and giving zeros etc, while true, is greatly over-stated. and i am addicted to coffee. small latte no sugar. this is fun. and jessikka, this is that scene.

the t-shirt as a site of the public sphere

here are some t-shirt slogans i have come up with. any suggestions? commodify yourself, buy this shirt commodify me, make an offer Jesus loves Mee I am not special - I am not unique Culture Slut - Culture Whore … and I care god is not dead, merely bored it’s the smell I am an affluent demograpic space for rent hmmm... iPod

i am an affluent demographic

“and I raaan, I raaan so far awaaay aaa / I just raaan, I raaan all night and daaay aaa / I couldn’t get away” I ran (so far away) by A Flock of Seagulls I go to hairdressers a few months back, and I say to Bruno, he’s the hairdresser man, though I mean man very slightly, you know what I’m saying yes, and I say to bruno, I want the a flock of seagulls and he say to me, no your hair is too short but I am give you an ah ha. So I had an ah ha. It was very good. So I had this pink / purple ah ha do for the next few months and is was good. But I was bored and I go to bruno, and my hair is looking like annie lennox going femme, badly, now, I say to bruno, take it all off. And after that he cut my hair, now I got the kid and play meets annie lennox going butch do. I like it. But I think maybe to put some racing stripes in. maybe some trams, nice like. Anywhose, it is no matter. So, I was up late one night and then “call now and get 10$ off the selling price” struck. Soon enough it was “call now and get a second double cd set of classics absolutely free” and it could not be a better deal. Not partially free mind you, but ab-slo-lute-ly free – the best kind of free. Oh yeah! So I have been listening to the edge of the 80s 1982-1983 courtesy of timeline warner, the music of a simpler more beautiful time. The music of poofy hair, shoulder pads, chessy synths and tin drums. Of bands like talk talk, talking heads, modern talking. When Madonna was asking us to get into the groove, billy idol wanted to dance by himself and cyndi lauper was she-bopping [a pot of piss for the one who can identify the theme that is common in all the songs]. The time of demi-moore was less plasticised, molly ringwald was attractive, of when steve martin was funny and Michael j fox was considered cool. Michael Jackson was considered a musical genius, not child molesting freak [allegedly]. What of tom cruise and van klimer – the homoerotic top gun – [gun – heh heh etc]. oh oh what about jonnie loves chachi, the dukes of hazard, the cosby show, dallas and whot shot jr… “hey now, hey now, don’t dream its over” they say. ah, the good thing is that as my demographic becomes more affluent, we can look forward to all this being repackaged and sold to us as memories of a simpler more beautiful time. hahaha. i like being in an affluent demographic.

its very hard

after spending a fair while writing a draft, into which has gone much work, much reading and much groundwork, its very hard to get it back after a few minutes - rejected pretty much. its very hard, and there are a whole bunch of other stuff to get sorted out. uni classes start next week and there are tutorials to prepare and lectures to write. i am so worn. my head hurts. but i will take it and rework the draft. what needs to be done, will get done.

setting the record straight

i know the title is misleading considering my last post but hey, made you look. it seems that singapore is busying setting another record. this time its about MoBlogging. another record for us, yeah baby yeah! but the site seems to be down for the moment, or perhaps the last two weeks [as far as i know]. this is no way to going about setting records. its most unfortunate. but i wonder what is going wrONg. hmm... never really thought about it, till i read adrian's remark about censorship. i wonder [think bubbles]. i'm a little teapot... etc [writing these papers is getting to me. not only am i mumbling to myself all the time, i have taken to singing nat king cole songs aloud - mainly 'fly me to the moon'. the weird thing is not the singing but that i actually prefer astrud gilberto's version.] for jessikka: this extra unscheduled post is for you, yeah!

stop being gay

There seems to be a whole bunch of what the cat dragged in at stopgays. Hey, I think its oh so wonderful that this freedom to express oneself [14.1.a] in being exerted wholeheartedly in cyberspace. I think popagandhi has given enough of an answer. there is little more that need be said. plus i find it rather painful ramming by head against brick [shit] house walls. but i blame not poor tim of stopgays. has the entire fabric of our eugenic intellegent coupling project come apart? could it be? say it isnt so? i urge my fellow netizens, the saplings should not be blamed. regardless, i find the idea of 'being' rather, well, dated. i have contended several times that the problem is that we live in a post-modern world but our thinking, the way we have be 'disciplined' cognitively in singapore, is still entrenched in modernity. we are still blighted by the rationalism of the enlightenment. we still grapple with notions of the essence, the singular. we still try to search for the unity, the monolithic truth. nay, i say, nay. i am a mutliplicities of lines, a vissititutdes of intensities. do not reduce me, i rather atomise. so, let us all unite under the flag of post-modernism and abandon 'being'. let us embrace each other, gay or miserable, with the cry of 'becoming'. just a suggestion: reading more than one book can only help.

we want another one just like the other one

'The razor-toothed piranhas of the genera Serrasalmus and Pygocentrus are the most ferocious freshwater fish in the world. In reality they seldom attack a human.'

If you can sms that in less than 43.24 seconds that you might be able to claims the world record. kimerbly yeo, another outstanding singaporean has done us [singapore] proud by beating the old record of 67 seconds, held by some dude. You rock kim.

Another record for singapore, like the longest poh piah, largest line dancing event, largest mass aerobics at one place, largest fountain, the list just goes on... and on... and on... and on...

I Have Nothing To Admit By G. Deleuze

... What you say is that I've always been trailing behind, sparing my strength, taking advantage of the experiments of others - homosexuals, drug addicts, alcoholics, masochists, madmen, etc. - and vaguely sampling their delights and their poisons without ever risking a thing. ... But what do you know about me once it is said that I believe in secrecy - in the power of falsehood rather than in accounts which bear witness to a deplorable belief in accuracy and truth? If I don't move, if I don't travel, I have taken motionless trips just like everyone else, and I can measure them only by my emotions, express them in the most oblique and diverted way in what I write. ... The problem is not one of being this or that in man, but rather one of becoming human, of a universal becoming animal: not to take oneself for a beast, but to undo the human organization of the body, to cut across such and such a zone of intensity in the body, everyone of us discovering the zones which are really his, and the groups, the populations, the species which inhabit him. Why shouldn't I speak of medicine without being a doctor if I speak of it as a dog? Why shouldn't I speak of drug without being drugged, if I speak about it as a little bird? And why shouldn't I invest a speech on something, even if this speech is completely unreal and artificial, without anyone asking me my credentials for delivering it? Drugs sometimes cause delirium. Why shouldn't I rave about drugs? What can you do with your very own"reality"? Yours is dull realism. full text

flouresent woken dreams

‘When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake.’ – Narrator, Fight Club The insomnia is back. It’s painful. I spend hours drifting in that space between the asleep and the awake. Mind just ticking over, clocking bits and bytes of ruminations that just snowball slowly until I have no choice but to get up. Every few hours, I fall asleep to dream I was digging a tunnel. I had to get away from the chasers. I had to get rid of this box, it was orange. It had ashes in it, had to get rid of it. Dig tunnel. Break through to the other side, at a beach of black sand so fertile, I could eat it. It was that time just before the sun comes up waves flouresent white breaks. It was so silent. No sound. Throw box. Could not. Special box. Time was not before sunrise, was after sunset. Dark empty beach. Fear of haunts of memories. Throw box. Cannot. Box cannot throw. white flouresent black. Wake. I need some silence. Some empty space in the aurals of my mind. need to quieten chikkenn voices. shut down the conferences in my mind. at times, there is no much noise, so many voices. i need some silence. I hate getting up in the morning , more tired than the day before.

foucault loves the internet

i was going through some notes on the internet that i have somewhere in my piles of scarps of scribbles and came across this one. it must have been from months ago as it was a fairly old pile which has since moved into the dark dusty recesses under my desk. i remember reading the article, or rather, interview as it was a short piece and had a funky title - 'the masked philosopher'. this interview was originally published without foucault being named as the interviewee. he did this in order to challange the power of the name 'foucault' and what 'foucault' has to say. i guess it harks back to his 'what is an author?' to me what stood out was two things; the intellectual and the mass media. actually, i lie. its full of so much that, i guess, one takes away from it what one wants and so i took away those keywords. its really worth a read. its in vol 1 of his essential works - ethics. for me, the best of foucault's 'writing' is his essays and interviews where he puts forward ideas and concepts without dressing. just the bare naked idea standing across from me, proudly and wontanly, inviting yet nonchalant. there is not facade not charade, just merely an idea. anyway, my point is that i cam across this quote of his and scribbled it down and wrote next to it [as if validated by him] "foucault loves the internet". those you who are aware of my love of foucault will understand the thrill i felt when i read the paragraph below. it was like my direction in research was valid and if he was alive, he would have loved the internet as much as i do. oh happy day. now, i feel bad as i have to a large extent moved away from him and embraced deleuze. but it was foucault who said, it has been said only half in jest, that this century will be deleuzian. so i guess its ok, it has foucault's approval. so, this is the quote where i think foucault loves the internet. "I dream of a new age of curiosity. We have the technical means for it; the desire is there; the things to be known are infinite; the people who can employ themselves at this task exist. What are we suffering from? From too little: from channels that are too narrow, skimpy, quasi-monopolistic, insufficient. There is no point in adopting a protectionist attitude, to prevent "bad" information from invading and suffocating the "good". Rather we must multiply the paths and the possibility of comings and goings... Which doesn't mean, as is often feared, the homogenization and leveling from below. But on the contrary, the differentiation and simultaneity of different networks." -- Foucault, M 1980, pp.325-326 ['The Masked Philosopher' in Essential Works of Michel Foucault 1954-1984]

imprisonsions

"A man will be imprisoned in a room with a door that's unlocked and opens inwards; as long as it does not occur to him to pull rather than push." -- Ludwig Wittgenstein there is no point in trying to reinvent the wheel. or so its said. but to wheel or not to wheel, that is the question. several ancient cultures never invented the wheel. considering that was used to gauge the development of a civilisation, what does that say of those who did? should i [re]invent the wheel? but, do i need the wheel? and what excatly is the wheel? i guess, perhaps, i merely wish for the hovercraft.

oh,ah the rains cometh

I am stuck in my office at uni as the rains have come without warning. Me being me, as usual have nothing bar a jacket and jumper. But Melbourne being Melbourne, when I do bring my splash proof jacket, oh then its got to be all sunny and warm. So I sit here all by my lonesome, I have no coffee, no cake or no bugger all. So I shall blog instead. Hmm… I some cans of tuna stashed somewhere, with which I could nourish myself. I usually also have some almonds squirreled away but alas have finished them recently. I have been told that it is a rather strange habit but I do love the tuna from a can. I usually go for the john west tuna with chilli but of late have discovered that sealord’s red pepper and chilli is also pretty good. Oh, when I say tuna from a can, I mean, there is this can yah, and in it, is this tuna right. I pop it open, they have these really helpful lids that just, you know, pop open. And then I take a fork and go for it. Oh yah, one time, nice nice. Love it. Anyway, should the rains go on, I can survive, barely, but I can goddamnit. And then there is the water. That’s very important. For while, I had this tang thing going on. You know, they drink tang in space. So it is some high tech juice powder people. But I reckon I have ingested enough tang to get to the moon and back a few times, maybe even stop over in new Zealand. Some of the people on my floor could hear me in the pantry, where the water is, as I will be like jigging the tang with the water in my bottle at the cooler. Or just jigging walking down the corridor. The jig is good, like the jig, gotta love the jig. There is some tea there but, tea – blah. What’s the point I say? Might as well just have the hot water. And why bother with hot water. I don’t get people who drink hot water. What’s the point really? Its plain silly to heat water and then drink it. Hot water is good only for two things – to bathe in and to make coffee. Ok, and to make superheated steam. I love superheated steam. Though it might not actually be at that point considered water because it is steam. But anyway, I mean steam is hot, yah. This is then heated to be like heated steam. But oh no, its not over just yet, its then superheated. That’s some special steam. They use superheated steam to like refine crude and make electricity. That’s cool. I think the rains have ceased which is different from stopped. Cos cease like cease fire means a temporary respite before the spite starts anew. So instead of wasting my time dilly dallying here bloggin and using my that precious cease, I should just … yeah whatever...

in attendance ...

just a quick/ie. 2moroe knight eye weel bee chequeing oot "the suns" or dha ban 4merli nown es "the boredfucks". dhay weel bee plieng et "the laundry" 2moroe. eye haff seam dham a phew tymes uber dha las cowpel oaf manths. dha kan o'reily 'rock the fuck out the joint'. sea kew ahl dhare.

techno service for the nation

national service, which is complusory conscription, in singapore is to be reduced from 2.5yrs to 2yrs, and the reasons for this are that [t]he rapid advance of technology and new war-fighting concepts have made it possible for blah blah blah. this is an awesome piece of news and i reckon a huge relief to many many ns men. the impact of this conscription on singaporean men is a significant one. perhaps in the future, i will go into detail about the policy decisions that were made for the constituting of national service and its impact on singaporean men. i have so many things i want to talk about. word of the day [and word to insert into thesis*]: rhizogenic - giving rise to or producing roots [to be used in thesis as a deleuzian term] word of the [yester]day: consumptive - tending to consume or use wastefully; or afflicted with or or associated with pulmonary tuberculosis; word of few days ago: digitalisation - the administration of digitalis [a pharmaceutical prescribed as a cardiac stimulant] for the treatment of certain heart disorders. digitisation - conversion of analog information into digital information *some of the other postgrads decided a while ago to try to put words like hullabaloo and however in our theses, for fun. yeah...

crossing lines and borders

you know you have crossed a weird line when you go into borders and after an hour, seem to think that the elements of style by strunk and white and eats, shoots and leaves by truss are the most interesting books that you want and need. anyway, below are two paragraphs for your reading pleasure. they took me almost three hours to write. i need to speed up my writing like a mofo my peeps [or similar urban slang]. "In its early manifestations, when the Internet was in its infancy, it used primarily for the sharing of resources and information. The underlying ethos that catalsyted the Internet was to allow universities and private and government research institutes to share computers, which were the size of large refrigerators, and computing power, which at that point was limited. As more nodes were added and the more users logged on, it moved from merely resource sharing to become a text-based world of emails and bulletin boards and these exchanges intensified, developing into a global dialogue and debate. However, the coming of hypertext and graphic user interfaces as well as the lower costs of computers and Internet connectivity, has lead to the popularisation of the Internet which in turn has lead to the comodification of both the users and the information. Arguably, while the increased user-friendliness of the Internet has increased its reach and potential, it has also lead to its ‘dumbing down’, in particular in the way users conceptualise their usage of the Internet, from creative to the consumptive, from active creators to passive consumers, from digital to analogue. While the Internet is part of the larger ‘being digital’ of communication technology, it is arguably the flagbearer and first point of contact in terms of thinking of the ‘being digital’ for majority of users. This ‘being digital’ means that information, be it textual, visual, audio or video, is converted into electronic binary packets and as such, that information can be transported quickly and without compromise in quality over long distances over the network as well as that the information is easily reproducible with its fidelity maintained, manipulable and the storage and recovery of such digital information is easier and cost effective. This ‘being digital’ allows information to travel across borders without discrimination. This is the ‘being digital’ of the information and the manner in which that information can be used and abused. While much of this ‘being digital’ has been appropriated by the certain segments of the users, the general experience of the everyday users is still based very much in thinking of their relationship with the Internet in terms of their relationship with traditional analogue media – a one-way passive relationship of consuming media. The Internet was designed to be an open system of communication and hence the belief that it is indestructible. However, with commercialisation of the Internet and the need to quantify and identify the audience, the Internet is becoming a closed system where the users experience has to be curtailed and guided in a particular and profitable path. The Internet is now digital more in terms of its transmission than the manner in which it is approached and used."

just a pinch of morose, thanks

there is something very obscenely morose about stumbling cocooned in your memories to uni under a cold grey sky after the night rain has washed away the dredges of sleep from the lashes of the morning listening to the alan parson project; “Goodbye my love, Maybe for forever Goodbye my love, The tide waits for me Who knows when we shall meet again If ever” -- Time it is strangely comforting, weirdly familiar.

uh... oh... i have to say something...

... eventually. i have to answer new charges of cultural relativism, being unconcerned about female circumsion, being asian, slumming with hammy, writing racist paragraphs, racist iPods, being an irreverent baiter, but the one that really got my goat was this one. but at this moment, i am preoccupied with this drafts that i want to finish sharpish. oh... but dont you worry my fellow drogges, i will get back to you. plus there is some other stuff i need to share. in the meantime, here's another paragraph for your reading [but not commenting] pleasure. "Interestingly, the Constitution of Singapore provides for freedom of speech and expression, but it is a qualified freedom. In reality, the government significantly restricts freedom of speech. Government intimidation through the actual or potential application of its various laws and societal pressure to conform result in self-censorship . The various laws are claimed by the government to protect politics from sensationalism, innuendo, and inaccuracy. However, these laws further restrict an already limited range of what was deemed acceptable political discourse."

*blugh*

i should be doing my work instead of waffling about in cyberspace. i have to write two drafts papers before i *jet* off [at great personal expense to myself] to the 15th Biennial Conference of the Asian Studies Association of Australia. and more urgently, i should get the powerpointies for my presentations done and emailed out by friday. currently, i am working on one of the papers i am supposed to present. it is entitled "Controlling the Internet: The use of legislation and its effectiveness in Singapore". i need a sexier title. it should be a two parter. i would love any suggestions. anyway, here's a paragraph i wrote that i am rather proud of, but will probably have to *sort* out later. please dont bother commenting on the paragraph. i wont listen as it is. [i hate this * - i dont get it. what the hell is it supposed to communicate?] "The rhetoric of the Internet, however, is woven together with the ideology of neo-liberal economic rationalism and presented to us as the fabric that is globalisation. These twin towers of globalisation were supposed to bring freedom to the peoples in despotic and dictatorial regimes; the freedom to exercise the right to consume both information and products. If authoritarian and totalitarian regimes wish to plug into the global economy and not get left behind, then embracing the Internet is vital; and the Internet will provide opportunity for uncensorable access to information, which would lead to democracy via information and economic success. The conflation of economics and democratisation is ubiquitous in the rhetoric of the championing of the Internet. "

j.lo strikes back

j.lo - she absolutely rocks man. she is even a better person that i thought. not only is she getting married instead of all of those other sinfully living together god haters, but marc anthony - the proven begotter - has beggoten once again. thats right kiddies, j.lo is preggers. maybe we need to look to the j.lo solution to the current low birth rates. lie down with various men, get married to those who are most suited for begotting either genetically, financially or white to secure exclusivity to gene propagation, if begotting fails, dump that bastard eunuch. and move onto next potential begotter. when all fails and bio clock goes tick tick boom, move to secure proven beggoter - perhaps in this manner. in between, try to make movies and run business empire. people, lets salute j.lo. that woman knows what she wants and by golly, she'll get it.

marriage, it gets easier baby, the more you try

as i expanded in a previous post about j.lo and how we need to recognise that she is a good role model for all those who suffer from martial variance disorder or MVD, yet do not wish to live in sin. she has once again done herself proud by marrying marc anthony, who had just last week divorced from the mother of his two previous children. we must praise marc for getting a divorce from his wife instead of merely living in sin with j.lo. also in marc, j.lo, praise her, has snagged a proven begotter, since he has already begotten three children [that we know of] from two different women. this is unlike those anti-evolutionary same-sex types that dear georgie and johnnie want to ban. and especially those women who dare to ask for the right to decided what they want to do with their bodies and abort future economic units, i mean, voters, i mean, erhm... and what about playschool and their lesbian mothers story for the kiddies. i say, that is pushing the gay agenda too far, no? of course, it’s a kids program but the voters, erhm, parents vote should decide. we need to protect the kiddies from this filth and keep their minds clean and pure. and maybe send them to church to learn about sex. as john anderson said, "I do think it's a choice and . . . that's a choice people have an absolute entitlement to make, but . . . if I choose a particular lifestyle, certain other things are not open to me. And I think in a free society, that's fine, but you've got to recognise you can't have it all." i agree, much like choosing to be a heroin addict, or a gangster, or a cop maybe. on the topic of choice, why do we not accept suicide as a choice? "Nowadays not even a suicide kills himself in desperation... He does not die with deliberation but from deliberation." Soren Kierkegaard

exercises of the racist

I have in the previous post defined what a racist is, and in this post will look at the exercises of the racist. The first is the racist who thinks that his or her race is superior so its exercise is to behave or put into effect conduct that privileges his or her race. The second is the racist who behaves or put into effect conduct that discriminates those that are not of the same race. The third is the racist that accepts or makes concessions for behaviour of a particular race as being inherent or expected. These three exercises of the racists are, in effect, what I consider racism. Lets being by examining the racist as an individual. We very quickly jump on the racist who either privileges his or her own race and/or negatively discriminates the others. Anecdotes of such behaviour are a dime a dozen. It bores me so lets look further. We see practices of racist discrimination every day from people who talk down to us about democracy, human rights, the environment or simply, how things are done and done right. At times, it is almost a fanatical fervour of the universality of their belief systems at the expense of indigenous systems. These belief systems can be found in the ideology of free trade and economic development, medical science, media products and censorship, technology, feminism, gblt rights just to name a few. But how are these belief systems linked to race? Well, these beliefs systems are products of cultural knowledges, which I argued earlier, are historically and pre-mass-mobile-populations as well as space/time compression [i.e. globalisation] about race. So the privileging of one belief system over another is racist. And this brings us to the third type of racist – the one who believes that the behaviour of a particular race is inherent or expected – who can either be a bigot or an apologist. The bigot is the one who says that certain races are inherently lazy or stupid. Or that certain races are all alcoholics who beat their wives and abuse their children. The bigot is easy to identify and deal with. The apologist is the one clothed in sheep’s clothing. The apologist is the one who ask that certain races be given preference due to their history of subjugation, or socio-economic class. The apologist offers concessions to other races, a head start in life perhaps so that they can catch to him and his. So which kind of racist are you? "I have more respect for a man who let me know where he stands, even if he's wrong, then one who comes up like an angel and is nothing but a devil." Malcolm X

"I'm not racial in any way at all"

Recently, I was called a racist. Not surprisingly however, given that I am wont to make statements like ‘I am an equal opportunity racist, I hate everyone’. And, I just like to provoke others. But its time I clarified my position. Race is defined as a group of people with a common history and geographic origin such that they can be distinguished as a fairly distinct group due to genetically transmitted physical characteristics. Race is considered to be generally a biological subspecies but considering that humans are genetically 99.9% identical, this cannot apply. As such, we must accept that race is a cultural and/or historical construct, which is based on minor superficial anatomical characteristics that can be readily identified. [note: an ethnic group is defined as a group of people sharing a common racial, geographic, theological, linguistic, or cultural heritage. This is a wider taxonomy than race and one that I feel is gaining greater currency due to the problems with ‘race’ and its link with biology; and hence in turn eugenics.] A racist is one of three things; someone who thinks one race [usually his or hers] is better than another, discriminates or is prejudiced according to race, or beliefs that race accounts for differences in character or behaviour. I don’t actually think one race is better than another - I spent too many years trying to fight against people saying that my race was not good enough to do the same to another. The second and third, to me, are linked. If one thinks that a certain race is, say, selfish due to their history, theology, philosophy and society, then it would be a pointless denial that that does not factor into one's dealing with that race. Now, an important point needs to be made here. This aspect of the racist can stem from either the bio-determinist or socio-determinist perspective. Are certain races are predisposed to alcoholism? Say, that genetically their bodies produce higher levels of Alcohol Dehydrogenase - the enzyme which metabolizes alcohol in our bodies? Or, is it about cultural and societal attitudes towards alcohol consumption? Or, is it about the reasons, such as isolation, depression and boredom, for the consumption and abuse of alcohol? Or, is alcoholism an equal opportunity disease? [The point, I am trying to make, is that we need to be wary of any determinist position.] I do think that our enculturation, be it theological, historical, racial and such, has an influence on the way we behave and on our attitudes. The biological side of it I am not so sure about. So, am I a racist? Well, I think I am. But then, so are you. and of course, hmm...... ipod.

extreme make over - the blog

as you can probably tell by now, project maya has undergone an extreme! make over. blogger has been relaunched recently after having been bought over by goggle. it even better and easier to use than before, with heaps more features. now is the time to blog my fellow drooges. on that note, welcome to tramspotting - a new blog on life on melbourne's tram system. And a sad farewell to struck [aka thereisnogoodreason]. jess, where is the blog? i know its out there somewhere. it cannot be gone, nooooo. say it isnt so! blogger also has a photoblogging hookup but it does not love the mac. we need to sort this out. and lastly, hmmmmm.... ipod.

a homer moment

ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod ipod hmmmm.... ipod

homecoming

I had a strange dream last night. It was however not a cat dream. There was this huge celebration as a hometown hero of sorts had returned in glory. I think he was a sports star. Everyone surrounded him, touching him, shaking his hand and just generally being around him. And there was this old man. He was shabbily dressed - a worn jacket that was too big for him. He was all wrinkly. He went up to the bar counter and asked for a beer. He took out a bunch of coins and slowly counted out the right amount. Now, he was poor but proudly picked up the beer and went to give it to the hero/champ. And then I woke up.

chewing gum now available in singapore

chewing gum has made a comeback in singapore after being banned for the last 12 years. so many articles that when talking of singapore bring up the fact that chewing gum is banned and we cane juvenile delinquents. and of course that oral sex is illegal cos we are asians. but they always fail to mention how bar-top dnacing is no longer illegal and we also have reverse bungee. in fact, that is part of the rebranding exercise of uniquely singapore. why has this happened? perhaps it is because we have signed the fta with america and wrigleys is an american company? are ready as a nation to deal with irresponsible disposal of chewing gum? is our transport syste, ready for gummy doors? "I'm not worried at all, because over the years people have become more civic-minded and I'm not very concerned that they will be littering," one person said. "Chewing gum has been banned in Singapore for the past 12 years, so its return is proving a novelty, even though it is only dental or nicotine gum sold with a prescription or registration." i content that we need to obtained dna samples from all buyers. if they are already registered via identity cards, a dna sample is the shortest of hops. that ways we can track down all those irresponsible users. oh georgie, you could not have imagined this.

auditioning for the herald sun

Ah my dearest hammy, I regret the fact that you are shocked and dismayed. It would be far more appropriate to be in shock and awe. But I am flattered that you recognised in my writing the lineage of the great Andrew bolt. He is another one of the great-misunderstood geniuses of our time much like Jessica Simpson – the goddess of post-modernist celebrity. i promise to post a reply to your comments soon. i am currently working on a terry johal policy document on the internet, interactivity and democracy, which i will also post here soon. and hammy, bro, you rock and roll/all night/sweet suzie [poco]. its all irreverance, never reverance.

university not for everyone

rmit has decided to raise its hec fees by 25%. As such there have been several guards milling about waiting, i guess, for the more, shall we say, demonstrative of the students to put in an appearance. [The rest of this is more of a reply to hammy's commentson pervious post, with liberal doses of other stuff.] The 25% increase is not a human rights abuse. Article 26 of the UN declaration of human rights says that everyone has a right to education and it should be free in the early stages. Higher education, it says, has to be accessible to everyone equally on the basis of merit. But it does not have to free. Education is an enshrined human right but not university education. [Interestingly, article 26 also talks of the compulsory nature of early education, which does contravene article 1 and 3, and some students would even say article 5 and 6. where is freedom when an activity is mandatory. Also article 26, does give the power of choice of education of the child to the parent, which one could argue again contravenes the human rights of the child. Just a couple of kettles of fish to contemplate.] When Brendan nelson said that university education was not for everyone, he was not being as evil as we all think he is. If one reads the rest of his interview, one realises that he makes several valid points. I am not going to google for his interview [due to sheer laziness] so instead let me state what I think. Firstly, let me state some of my more right-winged assertions. As a society, we don’t need bus-drivers or sanitation officers with degrees. Sounds harsh? I remember once while having dinner with about 25- 26 of my rugby team-mates when I was 14, it suddenly struck me that not all of us will make it to collage, even less to university. Some of us were going to be doctors, lawyers and investment bankers. The rest were not. Some were going to be successful and some were not. As I go along in life, I see it everyday. It is like in fight club, we are not all going to be rock stars and film stars. Deal with it. 3 out of 10 applicants the last time around did not make it to the university. Such is the attrition of meritocracy. There are just not enough places and if one is not good enough, then, well, one is just not good enough. There are other options to university education, which has become more about the middle class dream, illusion even. There are standards to meet, and if one does not, then well, unfortunately, one has to consider alternative paths. Increasing number of places is not a solution. Then we would end up a nation of doctors and lawyers. In terms of the cost of education, I see no reason why is should be free at university level? That means that the majority of the nation has to pay for the minority. There are complexities to the issue when we look at potential wages and actual taxation. The educated don’t necessarily pay for their education. I rather concentrate on health than free education. A mistake is a behaviour or path of action that is detrimental and you learn from it. When you do it a second time, that’s stupidity. The third time, it is just the kind of person you are. Mistakes are allowable, stupidity is not and inherency is completely unacceptable. So we need failure standards for even hecs. I am not sure of the details but I would propose that perennial students, who are not upgrading their skils, be kicked out of the university or at least be made to pay full fees. Why should a bucket bong smoking alcoholic student deprive another of an education? [not quite the herald sun but give me time]

ladies and gentlemen, we have lockdown

my building together with several others on bowen lane have been lockdown today. there was another lockdown last week but my building was left alone. we felt that the uni did not value us very much. a lot of other buildings got security guards, some got two. we had none. it was walk in, walk out, no worries the whole day. but today we got two security guards - one at the main entrance and another at the back entrance. i feel that we finally are getting some love from the uni. we feel that we have received some validation from the uni that we are worth protecting. the lockdown is a reaction to the occupation of certain buildings and rooms in rmit two protests ago. It’s a practice I think I disapprove of. Rmit is not at fault here and destroying property here is not the solution. Look at where the policy is coming from. These reforms don’t get passed by the unis. But what are the protests about? I thought they were about the federal governments allowing universities to raise hecs fees by 25%, which rmit has not done yet. But it seems from the flyers, graffiti and chants, that the protests are actually about charging fees. ‘no fees from degrees’ they chant. So the issue is muddied here. I don’t know if no fees is all that good an idea. I am not paying taxes to have some student not go to classes, drink and be merry and then fail their subjects so that I can pay for them to do them again next semester. Maybe we need failure standards to ensure that students who deserve funding get it while the bar flies don’t. On that note, all this talk about the budget and blah. I have a solution to offer. When taxpayers fill in their taxes, let them choose in order of preference where they wish their taxes to go to. Let the electorate tell the politicians where money should be spent instead of the politicians using it as a honey pot. I would rather have my taxes go to health, education, transport instead of defence, security and tax cuts.

towels heads and hats

"We do have a policy here, we have a policy which is no hats at the dinner table, which is ... it's called manners," she said. I agree with her of course. Wearing one’s hat to dinner is rude. It’s disrespectful. Its not bloody mac’ers with silly rat rooting teenagers and their backwards caps. Or those old Italian communists with their fedoras and white suits. Or those blasted hippies with those made in china/india sweatshop hat thingges. "We are in Australia, you do know that, and that's what we were brought up with." Ahh… But then this is Australia, or even Oz-tray-yah. But wait there was something about multi-cultural something or another. Maybe we should check with Pauline.

this blog was once engaged to j.lo

she's at it again. and we need to respect that. i mean, she's not like those other celebrities who wantonly sleep around and have babies out of wedlock. this brave woman, this misunderstood woman, only wants someone to love and share in life in that traditonal and well respected way. i mean, she respects the importance of marriage unlike those co-habiting types. we need to acknowledge that. and perhaps georgie and johnnie need to praise, raise her to the status of the role model that jenny from the block deserves. especially against those infidels, anti-evolutionary same sex ones, who too want to have the right to marry and remarry, much like the wonderful j.lo. India – while being the second most populace country in the world, and one of the oldest civilisations, it is not possible for the country not to elect the gandhis. Some families are just more gifted than others. Its time we acknowledge the fact that some genetic strains are just meant to rule. And we, Asians, have only learnt from the best practices of the leading lights of civilisation, the Bushies. Iraq – It seems that people are beginning to lose their heads over Iraq. And what about those awesome pictures. And I think I love pfc England. She is the coolest, with her cigarette and fatigues pointing at those men. The waif dominatrix – I wonder if playboy will get her for a spread. And as rush limbaugh said, and I cannot quote enough of him cos I love him so, its art. Denmark – oh I so excited, I just can’t hide it. A royal wedding, yippee. But a little known fact, which I will share with you. The reason why royals have started to marry commoners, is this – after prince Charles was like on TV and with his writings and such, the other royals finally understood what the effects of inbreeding are. So this whole thing is about having some genetic variance in the gene pool. i mean eventually someone would have switched to national geographic. US – hhahaaahahahaaaa…

new computer

oh my gawd! i have just got a new computer from my dept. a new pentium 4 2.8ghz, 40gb of hard disk space, dvd drive, cd-rw drive, floppy drive, usbs, and flat screen. busy now, playing with new toy. need a name for new comp.

mother's day

Believe me this; there was actually a Mothers Day before Hallmark with different cultures and history with their own versions and celebrations. Given the current global conflict, or perhaps more polemically, World War, we need to revisit the proclamation of peace written by Julia Howe for Mothers Day. It comes from and still bears witness to what we now call the unpatriotic and uncivilised anti-war movement. Mother's Day Proclamation [1870] by Julia Ward Howe Arise then...women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts! Whether your baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly: "We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies, Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, For caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, the women of one country, Will be too tender of those of another country To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs." From the voice of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice." Blood does not wipe our dishonor, Nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil At the summons of war, Let women now leave all that may be left of home For a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means Whereby the great human family can live in peace... Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, But of God - In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask That a general congress of women without limit of nationality, May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient And the earliest period consistent with its objects, To promote the alliance of the different nationalities, The amicable settlement of international questions, The great and general interests of peace.

Survival Guide Part 1

if one should decide in the future to outrage a woman or two's modesty, here's a couple of hints to ensure that the punishment is light, i.e., to escape with a fine [of say S$4500] and avoid a custodial sentence; 1. make sure that you are drunk, and hence cavalier 2. make sure the molest takes place in a public place, and in the full view of other persons 3. make sure the molest takes place during the day, or at least not in the wee hours of the morning 4. make sure that it happens in a open space, not confined space 5. try not to scare the molestee, and not to put in fear "The judge noted that a jail term was usually given when the victim was put in fear and when the molestation takes place in a confined space or in the wee hours of the morning. 'In this case, the offence was committed in full view of other persons,' he said, before handing down a $4,000 fine for outrage of modesty and a $500 fine for the use of criminal force. [ST Interactive, 7 May 2004] "A Japanese marketing executive was fined $4,500 yesterday for holding and pushing a Singapore Airlines stewardess into an aircraft toilet and then grabbing another stewardess... On March 14, Tomonori used both hands to hold the hips of his victim as he walked past her on flight SQ17 from Seoul to Singapore. He then pushed her into one of the toilet cubicles. Half-an-hour later, Tomonori squeezed the buttock of another stewardess."[TODAY Online, 7 May 2004]

carrots and alfalfa

Alright, I was very excited when I managed to get two papers accepted at the Asian Studies Association of Australia Biennial Conference. Oh I am going to Canberra, oh I am going to a conference, oh I am presenting my ideas to my peers… Peers? I just got the details of the panels I will be on and there are two professors, one assistant professor, two phd candidates on the same panels as me. They have all published a fair bit and like even have their own web pages. I am a geeky at best freaky at worst dude type who a blog. Check out their links… And then check out mine… Oh, this is some scary alfalfa man, I carrot you not. I am quite intimidated. I got to get my act sorted sharpish like. Oh me, oh my… Media and Internet • Internet and Democratisation in Indonesia (David Hill, Murdoch University) • Controlling the Internet: The use of legislation and its effectiveness in Singapore (Terry Johal, RMIT University) • Internet, democracy and oppositional politics in Singapore (Marika Vicziany, Monash University) • Digital Dissent: Opposition Parties and Information Technology in Singapore (James Gomes, Monash University) Internet and Information Technology • Creating Knowledge Based Economics: Information Technology Linkages between India and Singapore (Faizal Yahya, National University of Singapore) • The Asian Digital Divide: A Vital Engine of Growth (Sally-Anne Leigh, Australian National University) • Singapore and the Internet: an extra-terrestrial discursive arena and its relationship to terrestrial media (Terry Johal, RMIT University)

camping with natasha

all the pcs in my building are fucked by sasser - a new worm. you dont even have to open an email attachment or such. as long as you are running windows 2000 and up, its over. pay the babysitter, send her home, its all over. but i have a mac - oh i love you natasha. so i can blog, email, listen to music and all the other wonderful things that macs can do [which includes ripping copy-shackled cds]. soooo... i am one happy camper. everyone else here is sitting in front of black screens and reading their stuff. like using pens, pencils and paper even like. it soooo medival, not at all digital. but i feel their pain, i really do. i have been rogered by many a virus in my time. so its free for all if anyone wishes to check mail and internet or just plain stare at a computer screen for a bit.

nevermind the buttocks

With heroin being so passé and junkie chic so pre-millennium, maintain that punk aesthetic of lean mean, hard and keen. Emulate your punk gods and goddess such as Peaches/Thurston Moore/J Mascis/Kim Gordon, take up Punk Rock Aerobics. That’s right, PRA. Keep your punk ethic and come dressed in whatever. Come in gym clothes and we will have to kick your establishment ass to the street, wear spandex and we will stomp you with our doc martens. That’s right don’t be a factory monkey, be yourself and join us in our classes where we can all together have tight abs and hard asses while exercising to punk rock. You don’t need fancy weights, we have bricks [spray painted black and with our logo]. You don’t need art-deco climate controlled gyms, we have basements with wooden floors boards and exposed piping. You don’t need even to leave the house, we have a book out now [available at amazon.com]. you don't need brand monkey gym gear, we have our own punk gear on our website. Official Mission Statement [taken from http://www.punkrockaerobics.com/mission.html] Take control of your body! Take control of your mind! PRA is not about how you look but how you feel. Tight abs don't mean shit if you're a spineless fuck who can't think for yourself. We aim to inspire, empower, and have a good time. The PRA fitness revolution starts in your mind. Free your mind and your ass will follow.™

rousing with the natives

this morning at 7.15 am as I left home, I was heralded with a gallant yell. ‘hey mate’, he called from his blue tin rusty stead while chomping away on a mac’kers burger. ‘yeah?’ I yelled back. ‘er, ahh…. Do you know where I can get my drugs? … no wait … how do I get to Sydney road?’ so I gave him directions. And then I gave him a simple set of heres and theres. ‘sweet mate. Thanks. That’s where my drugs are. You legde.’ i assured him it was my pleasure and I wished him the best in his quest. some mornings are just special.

how to disappear completely

Radiohead - Final Show Cancelled Tuesday, 27th April, 2004 Show Cancelled Unfortunately lead singer of Radiohead, Thom Yorke, has come down with a throat condition. He has received advice from an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist that should he perform tonight he could do irreperable damage to his throat. Therefore the band has made the difficult decision to cancel tonight's show. For refunds of your ticket, please contact the point of purchase. Tickets can be refunded at point of purchase

everything in its place

There will be no review of last nights radiohead gig. None. Because ever so rarely, one has an experience so beautiful that words can only fail. Maybe I am not good enough a writer. All I will say is that it was an exquisite pain. And more tonight. Setlist (Melbourne 26/4/04) 01 there there 02 2+2=5 03 lucky 04 myxomatosis 05 where i end and you begin 06 backdrifts 07 pyramid song 08 go to sleep 09 my iron lung 10 the gloaming 11 talk show host 12 exit music 13 sit down. stand up 14 paranoid android 15 national anthem 16 no surprises 17 idioteque Encore: 18 you and whose army? 19 fake plastic trees 20 planet telex 21 everything in its right place (with a line from fog sampled)

This is really happening

Ah, the day arrives. Tonight I get to see one of my favorite bands ever live in concert. Tonight I get to see radiohead. Over all these years, there have been very few bands that could get me all worked up, even fewer that I would endure the sweaty smelly yapping masses for, to watch in concert. Two of those bands have since broken up – Guns ‘n’ Roses and The Verve. The other two are the Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead. Tonight and tomorrow night, I get to bask in the sonic sex of radiohead. I have been avoiding thinking about it too much lest I build it up to much and get let down. But now the hour approaches, and the madness is being slowly inched closer to. More to come.

the genius of jessica simpson

In spite of what you elitist subtitled movie watching brainiacs say, I believe that the pearls cast forth from the mouth of the babe are gravely misunderestimated [two mixed metaphors and one poco- each worth a point. Leave answer in comments]. I am talking about Jessica Simpson, and in particular her views on age in the episode of the newly weds when she celebrates her birthday. She is pointing out a problem that many of us have just brushed under the carpet, a linguistic laziness, a language generalisation where you say things like early twenties, or mid thirties but what exactly do you mean. And since you don’t want to show your ignorance since you are so fucking insecure, you let it slide as does everyone around while sniggering at Jessica. Anyways, me and stev0 has contemplated this conundrum and this is how it breaks down; X0> but >X4, where is X>1 and the first integer of a multiple of ten, then it is early twenties, thirties and so on; X2> but >X8, where is X>1 and the first integer of a multiple of ten, then it is mid twenties, thirties and so on; X6> but >Y0, where is X>1 and the first integer of a multiple of ten and Y is X+1, then it is late twenties, thirties and so on. The age of X3 is both the early and mid twenties, thirties and so on, and its affiliation is dependent of the psychological state [in particular attitude towards age] of subject (P) and, type and number of neurosis and psychosis of subject (Q). The age of X7 is both the mid and late twenties, thirties and so on, and its affiliation is dependent of the psychological state [in particular attitude towards age] of subject (P) and, type and number of neurosis and psychosis of subject (Q). So the use of the term early-, mid- and late-, requires Jessica to work out the complex relationships of the variables X,Y,P and Q, which is more than any of you do when carelessly and wantonly uses aforementioned prefixes. Appreciate how Jessica Simpson has managed to summarise a fairly complicated and through equation into a beautiful and elegant axiom - "No, 23 is old. It's almost 25, which is, like, almost mid twenties."

standing eight count

Today, I presented a paper to the school - which I will be presenting as part of the Singapore Studies Series at the Monash Asia Institute on May 10. But before I leave my cocoon to venture forth where I know not friend or foe, I figured – present it where I know the people and the people are gentle. But as they say, we hurt you because we love you. I had chunks ripped off man. The first question – a left king hit - had me down for the count. As I took a standing eight, rambling incoherently, a few quick jabs came in from the right. It was intense. I managed to walk away but I am sure I got thumped. I had points scored on me like a beeyotch. But it was good, there was a gaping fucking hole that I missed – what is political? Damn, it seems obvious but I missed it. I delved into Foucault, Williams, Deleuze, Bourdieu, cultural theory, everyday practice and of course the good old war horse – democracy is fucking western imperialism, democracy is a myth of participation and other such bullocks. They almost bought it, but almost is not enough. I am so glad that it happened here at my wonderful rmit and I have 20 days to sort it all out. I feel cleansed and ready for battle. I probably need to do another draft and put that up to be destroyed. And I have two more papers that I need to get done and send for the treatment. I cannot wait. Give to me you sexy nerds! Title Reclaiming the Internet: Creative Communication and Political Discourse in Singapore Abstract The Internet was originally likened by many media commentators to an electronic agora that would usher in a new era of citizenry participation in the political practices and social action, especially in authoritarian or totalitarian regimes where the media environment is tightly controlled and monitored. However, the Internet has moved into the realm of commerce and as such regressed; becoming a closed system of portals and one-click shopping, where the users experience is one of ‘choice’ – a guided journey. The political experience of the user too has been reconfigured from that of interactivity to that of passive consumption. However, the Internet is being reclaimed and this paper looks at the use of political forums and mailing lists in Singapore as an arena for political expression. It also looks at the impact that discussions in such arenas has on terrestrial media and the political landscape itself.

david beckham loves me most

I am very happy that the esteemed fourth estate of our civilised world has decided to devote their resources to stories that need to be told. Too much pulp and ink has been wasted in the endless quagmire of the war in Iraq, the crises in the Middle East, the Nelson Report and other such inane infantile pointlessness. I mean who needs those bad negative vibes really. What I need to know is a detailed account of the smses that david beckham sent to his various rumpy pumpy partners, that the those partners kept those smses not because they are sad pathetic people but for sentimental values, that they have to tell the world because the people have a right to know that old golden balls is a philandering bastard but not for the money they got paid, that a prostitute thought that he would leave the mother of his two kids to be with her, that the chicks then are wondering why the media is hounding them and should leave them alone, that old golden is an awesome lover with trimmed pubes, that he bought posh pink diamonds, that posh wants a trail separation... But that’s not all. This is also the perfect time to remind me of all those marriages that survived infidelity like the Clintons, the whateverthefukcs, and those that did not survive. And how about getting oprah to do an episode on either or even both, so that the viewers at home can realise that they are not alone in the pain, that even famous people suffer. Ohh, what about dr phil – I am sure this whole episode with db and posh would have traumatised some poor impressionable soul who tend could not continue. Maybe we can make t-shirts with “DB fckd me 2” on them or other such witty smsese slogans. Then maybe a movie, definitely a book somewhere, are you listening Andrew morton? Lets not forget the game- for both playstation and the xbox. And from now, doing a beckham will have a whole new meaning, lets not even get into the bending. And perhaps for true immortality, we could name the psychosis of being a philandering outrageously rich ball bender beckhamism.

police chases

Police chasing criminals – now that’s been the staple of many a young boys afternoon run around, the cornerstone of many great films. Now it seems that the police should stop chasing criminals because these criminals who are not trained to drive fast and furious crash and die. Oh, those poor criminals. I remember watching current affair a while back and they were interviewing some old bag whose son had died when he crashed while being chased by the police. The fact that her son was 15 and drunk, had stolen the car and was running for the police was not the issue, the fact that he crashed was. What the fuck is that? Maybe if she tried being a better parent who knew what her son was doing at 2-3am in the morning, maybe if she had tried talking and advising her son, maybe if she had given a fuck instead of collecting welfare and drinking beer. Yesterday, a lady died because she got hit by a criminal who was driving on the wrong side of the road while being chased by the police. And what are the bleeding hearts of the press doing? Lamenting about the death rates of police chases. What about the thief now murderer? Not a mention. I have no issues with the deaths of those who run. I have real problems when someone driving along has to die because of some bastard criminals desire not to go to jail again. I want the police to continue to hunt the baddies down. I want the police to get those that drink drive. I want the police to get those that speed and endanger others. I want the police to continue to ensure I am able to walk, cycle or drive along without being threatened with disability or death. I think that for children to lose their mother, a husband to lose his wife, parents to lose their daughter, society to lose a productive and functional individual is fucked up. I rather we just sacrificed a dreg ever so often. I have no issue with that.

clubbing, canadian style

So it seems that the Canadians have gone clubbing with a vengeance this year, an old school no holds barred, globally offensive bash, one might say. This time it was 350,000 dead. Forget the clubbing fuelled by wimpy, oh-I-love-you-all pharmaceuticals of ecstasy or fantasy. This testicular bash is fuelled by testosterone, Canadian Dry and blood. A clubbing experience so hard, so strong, so long, it gives even vegans stiffys. Greedy seals that just eat, fuck and have babies will be clubbed to death, bludgeoned even. Clubs with heads of nails and spikes, will bash mash the soft furry heads of the seals crushing skulls, gooifying brains, leaving the pristine white snow awash with blood. What have the seals ever given us? They are endangering the livelihoods of hardworking true-blue Canadian battlers fisherman. We have to protect the fish stocks and maintain the ecological balance. The seals don’t care, they have WMDs, it is our responsibility, nay, our duty as members of the civilised world to ensure that the world is a safe place for us and our children.

i too want the ivory tower

Why the long waits at hospitals? By Chua Mui Hoong This won't be a popular point of view, but I actually think specialist charges are too low in Singapore. If patients can accept allowing hospitals to charge more rationally, maybe hospitals won't have to do irrational things like schedule 10 patients per hour. [i think i might be in love with this buck toothed skinny goddess. such an insightful, compassionate and socially aware writer has not lived. oh, her humanity, her humility, her humour, her rational economic solutions and, especially, her sex appeal. i had better stop before i get aroused.]

dreaming while asleep

It is 3.50 in the am and I just awoke, or rather was just awoken. Had a strange dream. I was in a classroom talking to a slew of people on the internet and using Deleuze’s philosophy to use it in as an activist. And I am rambling on to the students and such. All about ‘transforming life’. And this man walks in; he has a worn overcoat and wispy straggles of white hair. And long nails. It’s Deleuze. He starts to tell me, in English, that he is less than impressed by my understanding of his work. That I am simplifying years of slog and love into simplistic notions. That I just do not get it. That I am lousy at the ass-fuck. I awake. My heart is pounding and I feel very nervous. I get myself a glass of milk and try to get back to sleep. I guess its better than my usual cat dreams.

the queue

this is a piece of writing i did a while ago. it needs more work but then so do a lot of other things.

It was beginning to grunt ever so slightly behind him. Vague breezes of mumbled displeasure were drifting past him. It was beginning to push at him but it was a young queue, the beginnings of a queue, and as such while the weight of the queue was slowly ticking forward, he knew he could withstand its thrust. The good thing about a young queue was that only the head has the sense of the wait. The lady at the counter told him that he had no choice, that he had to do it. He hated her. She did not understand. She would not be able to understand. It did not mean anything to her. She has a job to do and she was doing just that, merely that. She flitted peeks at the queue. She said she did not understand. She said that she was could not do anything about it. It was just a form. Then she said that it did not matter. To please just fill up the form like everyone else does. She could not process an incomplete form. He had to complete the form. Like everyone else. Nobody has had a problem with it so far. It was merely a form. It was not up to her. It was the rule, the way things were done. Just fill up the form. Please. He hated her more than. She did not understand. It was not simply filling up the form. It was staking the ground, claiming the space where he was being allowed to exist. It was not a form. It was a declaration of who he was. And it was important. Everyone else fills it up and everyone is being staked to a notion. Some notions were better than others. It mattered to him. It was important. She kept insisting that it did not matter. But she could not process an incomplete form. He had to complete the form. She could not do anything until he filled up the form which did not matter. The queue was getting very heavy now. It was growling loudly. Not used to be kept waiting for so long, not used to patience, not used to people not obeying. The queue was throbbing now. Pulsing with impatience. Glaring loudly at his back. He felt very tired, so very tired. It was hot in his head, cheeks burning and his back spasming in vulnerability. He closed his eyes. He wanted to lie down and think of the sun pushing sweat into his eyes and the salt on his tongue. His eyes were closed. The queue broke. It forced up into him giving him no space to not obey. Its miasma enveloped him and he shrunk into his eyes trying to just catch a breath. She took the form from him and passed him a queue number. But she would not look at him anymore. Just wait there for your number. It sounded rather ominous to him, waiting for his number. She could not understand he realized, she only had to tick the first box. He felt sad and wanted to reach out to her. To tell her that he understood why. He wanted to apologize to her and for her. But to tell her that it mattered. It mattered to him everyday when he breathed in the notions that made him and her. It was important not just for him but for her. Inside he knew though that she would never understand. Even if she tried, her notions were so well disciplined into her that understanding will end up pity. It was just not her though. His eyes whispered to the queue but it was being processed efficiently and quickly, barcode scanning speed. He hated how he could never escape it. As he walked down the street and looked at the people around him, as he sat in a bus looking at the advertisements, as he watched the actors on the television, as he read the newspapers and magazines, as he ate at the food courts. It was a smog of constructions upon which was built this understanding of reality. A smog that penetrated the chairs he sat on, the streets he walked upon, the people who bumped into him in crowds; a smog that we have ceased to be blinded by leaving us just blind. Like cataracts in an old person’s eyes, it was simply the way we saw the world. There might have been a world before but now it was a cataracted reality. That could be the only explanation why they could not understand. His number was up and he made his way slowly to the counter where an oldish woman waited bored. She knew that his form was not filled out completely. He explained that he did not wish to fill it out completely. Once again he was told that an incomplete form could not be processed. If he wished to get anything done, he would have to complete the form. He wanted to explain, to try and let them into his world. But the old woman was not interested, not at all. If he wanted to get anything done, he had to fill out the form completely. She turned away to her computer punched the keyboard a couple of times and then filled out the form for him. It was over. His battle was over. She gave him a copy of the form and wished for him to have a good afternoon. She had gotten up and left her space but not before staking him very precisely in his. He knew now who he was, he knew now know the system told him he was. The form felt different, violated by the alien hand of the system. The form was limp and damp in his hands having given up its private sanctity. He carefully folded in and placed it gently into his wallet.

a letter from my liaryer

Dear Sir We refer to your query dated 25 March 2004 received by us on even date. We are in the process of drafting an advice to your query and shall accordingly let you have the same in due course. In the meantime, please let us have your deposit to account for our initial cost and disbursements. Yours faithfully Your obnoxious overcharging lawyer

a letter to my liaryer

Dear Sir or Madam: I am suffering from a myriad of work- related injuries; and well, not to put too fine a point on it, since I am in pain, there must be someone I can sue. Currently, I have a sore neck from spending too much time working on my laptop. I am constantly looking down at the screen; as such looking down at things has become rather a habit. I also have developed RSI in my hands; sharp pains run down my hands preventing me engaging in some of my most cherished activities like washing dishes and cleaning my house. I also suffer from back pains since my workstation is not ergonomic and this has lead me having to spend hours lying down in front of the television. Please advise me with regards to legal recourse. Terry Johal

yousa mean some people gonna die? - jar jar binks

Hamas vows bloody revenge Palestinian militants last night threatened unprecedented revenge against Israel and the United States after the assassination of Hamas founder Ahmed Yassin in a helicopter missile strike outside a Gaza City mosque. Al-Qaeda 'statement' calls for revenge Britain leads condemnation of killing Evil incarnate to some, a hero to others Hamas leader assassinated Anger and mourning in Gaza Thousands of Hamas supporters poured onto the streets of Gaza City today crying vengeance after Israel assassinated the radical movement's spiritual leader in an air strike. Blast at border crossing Israelis 'will pay with their lives': minister Hamas declares war 'open' Sharon to urge Gaza withdrawal KILLING OF SHEIKH YASSIN Huge crowds mourn Hamas chief Palestinian fury erupts In pictures: Fury at Yassin's death World fears after Yassin killing US appeals for calm in Mid-East Israel defiant over Yassin killing Full text: Hamas vows revenge ANALYSIS Show of strength Peace hopes recede as Israel strikes a killer blow before a pullout, writes Paul Reynolds Obituary: Sheikh Yassin Who are Hamas? Q&A: Impact on 'war on terror' Israel's 'targeted killings 'CNN's Paula Hancocks reports on the killing of Hamas leader Sheikh Ahmed Yassin Israel closes down Gaza City Israeli spokesman Avi Pazner: 'Terrorist' Yassin deserved to be killed. [source: theage.com,bbc.com,ccn.com]

To satisfy ignorance is to put off writing until tomorrow – or rather, to make it impossible. G. Deleuze, Difference & Repetition p.xxi

of being a vampyre

You're a historical vampire! You'd fit in with the
likes of Vlad the Impaler, or Elizabeth
Bathory, famous for bathing in the blood of
virgins to keep her young. Nobody can prove
that you are a vampire - but with hobbies like
torture and spitting people on spikes, you're
scary enough to start some MAJOR rumours.

What type of vampire are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

of being unavailable

terry johal is currently not available. thank you for your concern. he will be back shortly, if not, eventually.

of babies and cars

[Today, I present to you a collage made from snippets from articles in The Straits Times and Agence France Presse. It starts slow but, trust me, the end is worth the trudge. Enjoy.] SINGAPORE'S baby shortage woes have worsened as the fertility rate slumped to a historic low of 1.26 children per woman last year, the government said Tuesday, March 2, as officials prepared plans to fix the problem. "This is a serious problem. A declining birth rate will sap the vitality and resilience of our country," Deputy Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong said in parliament last month. “We need to shift social attitudes towards having children, even while we recognise that having children is a very personal decision which couples have to make for themselves," said Lee. Since 1987, the government has put in place a slew of financial and tax incentives to encourage couples to have more children than the current average of two. A so-called Baby Bonus scheme was announced in 2000 offering financial incentives to Singaporeans to start having children. Almost S$100 million (US$58.82 million) have been paid out under the bonus scheme, Lim said. Among the options being explored by Lim [Hng Kiang, the former health minister heading a panel tasked with drawing up a list of solutions to the baby shortage] and his team is extending the mandatory, fully-paid maternity leave of eight weeks to as many as six months, with the government shouldering the extra cost, which could total S$200 million (US$117.6 million) annually. “We need to shift social attitudes towards having children, even while we recognise that having children is a very personal decision which couples have to make for themselves," said Lee. 'Procreation is not only the duty of everyone, but also the responsibility of every citizen towards his family, parents, society and country.' Dr Ong Seh Hong (MP - Aljunied GRC) want to pump up the social pressure on such people whom he described as 'irresponsible'. he dismissed the common refrain that family planning is a personal decision. Those 'irresponsible' people who shun the stork, he said, should realise they would become a liability to the society in future. To prevent this, he suggested making this group bear the costs of their old age by having them contribute to an account he called the 'Preventive Eldercare Account'. Mr Gan Kim Yong (Holland-Bukit Panjang GRC) also held out a Chinese phrase for those naysayers against children to ponder over - ai qing the jie jing. It means a baby is the product of love. Marriage and having children came naturally to people of his generation without too much cost-benefit analysis, noted the 45-year-old father of two. Ms Penny Low (Pasir Ris-Punggol), who is single. She said while children were a status symbol of sorts in the past, the reverse is true today. The MP, who admitted she faced pressures to get married especially during Chinese New Year from well-meaning relatives, said: 'In the not-so-distant past, we had less to eat and wear, but we had more children to show. Today, we analyse and analyse the cost until we become paralysed by it.' Mr Ang Mong Seng (Hong Kah GRC), who grew up in a family of nine, looked back to a different time when Singaporeans were more relaxed about babies, when another child just meant another 'bowl and pair of chopsticks'. Mayor Othman Haron Eusofe (Marine Parade GRC), noted that four of the five mayors had set a good example by having three or more children. But he highlighted Mayor Heng Chee How's (Jalan Besar GRC) one-child family. But there was still hope as Mr Heng was 'still young', he said to chuckles from the House. He (Gan) suggested an annual Love Campaign to add spark to the lives of young couples and help them appreciate the joy and fulfilment of having a family. 'It is like driving a car. We have the best engine, the lubricant is new and the tank is full. But when we turn the key, the engine does not come on because there is no spark in the chamber,' he said.

of writing abstracts

I have been trying to write two abstracts for while now but have been spectacularly unsuccessful. I was hoping to finish them by 2.30pm but looks like that will not happen. They are due tomorrow. What the hell goes into an abstract? I have referred back to Booth et al’s ‘craft of research’ – an awesome book for those who want to or are doing research – for help. It seems that an abstract is ‘shorter than an introduction, but still do three things that an introduction does’ namely it states the research problem, it announces key themes and it ends with a statement of the main point or with a launching point that anticipates the main point in the full text. And this is all good but what if I have as yet not written the full text. Hmmm…

of the necessity of conflict (part one)

I feel almost a need to qualify this entry. Something along the lines of ‘we live in an era of conflicts gestated in history and aborted daily on the streets in pools of innocent blood’ and so on. But I am not going to. This entry is not about the world at large, it is about us – you and me. It is about the conflicts we experience with each other. It is about the personal. But before I move on to conflicts, let me talk a while about evolution. Now, we all are generally familiar with the ideas put forward by Darwin all those years ago with regards to evolution. Somehow in the process of learning and understanding evolution and natural selection, we have, perhaps as an arrogance or just the influence of religion and later philosophy, placed ourselves at the apex of evolution, but not merely as the end product of evolution but also as the purpose of it. And in doing this have pulled ourselves out of the considerations of evolution. We are just slaves to the image of the godhead in us all – at times consciously, but more often subconsciously. We need to understand how natural selection works; it is when there is a mutation occurs in the genetic structure of an organism such that it tends to be more suited for its environment and as such this mutation improves its survival potential. It exercises this potential by mating and propagating its particular mutation. And so organisms continue to mutate and the ones best suited to the particulars of its environment survive and multiply. Hence, that immortal justification of ‘survival of the fittest’. Into this, has crept in the idea of ‘for the good of the species’ – the supposition that organisms behave in a manner to ensure the propagation of its species. And there are a fair number of examples to support this claim. This ties in with early western philosophy with ideas of the greater good and the social contract. This strain of thought has insidiously convinced us that we – the apex of evolution – are able to and should care for members of our species. There is all manner of vitriol exalting us to behave in a particular manner so that society at large can reap the benefits. The rhetoric has the same underlying message that monarchy’s and the church’s use of religion has. It is the rhetoric of sacrifice and delayed gratification, of guilt and collective responsibility. Then comes along Dawkins with his proposition of the selfish gene. We are still talking about evolution and natural selection but now we add to the mix, the idea of organisms being little more that survival machines for genes. The genes are the primary drivers of the evolutionary process and we are only vehicles that the genes use to ensure their survival. So it is no longer about the organism itself but rather its genes, which have to survive in a world of exploitation and competition. Genes in one survival machine consider other machines as a part of the environment of which they have to make the best use, for themselves. The old rhetoric about the good of the species is subsumed by the reality of the survival of the individual. And hence, of selfishness. [Now, what I have presented so far is a simplification of fairly detailed and complex ideas, but I believe that I have managed to provide a fair summary; however it is one that is crafted with the argument that I am trying to build here. For my purposes, I tend to look at it as an adaptive impetus for survival.] What has this got to do with conflicts? Ah, the plot thickens. Conflicts are a natural and quite necessary aspect of biological systems. We are all competing in our environment for resources, be they food, shelter or even other survival machines. The reality is such that, as friends or at least the members of a social group, we tend to compete within the same pool of resources. Ideally, we would all be Zen doves that can co-exist in a caring and complementary manner. But the reality is that we are predisposed to being selfish. We behave in a manner so as to maximize our advantage first and foremost. This maximization has several faces or rather facades, which at times even have well reasoned and seemingly well-intentioned justifications, but when distilled down to its essence, it is the self-advantage that motivates behavior. I believe that altruism is a behavior that is paradoxical in that the moment one acknowledges it, its ceases to be. So conflict is a natural product of the competition between the survival machines to ensure the survival of the gene. So conflict is an occurrence that we cannot avoid and escape from. With the selfishness, comes unavoidably conflict. But does it then mean that conflict is necessary? Can we unfetter ourselves from the tyranny of our genes? Should we endeavor to be Zen doves? [To be continued ... eventually]

of why i write short poems

I think it’s a fear Of what does not add But stains

of necessary necessities

I really should be working on my thesis, but I am finding it hard to begin. It daunts me. It mocks me. It is intimidating me. Or maybe I am just a lazy bastard. I am working on some blog entries instead. A nod to ayn rand and anton la vey, they are going to be. But then I realized that perhaps I should concentrate on work that actually pays the rent rather than mere wank. Just had a five-minute conversation in my office about prepositions and how they should be used.

Of when shit goes peared shaped

On Sunday, as I am wont to on Sundays, I went to play soccer with my housemate and some other friends and just plain dudes hanging about looking for a game. And this Sunday, we drove there. Soccer was good. Now, as we were getting ready to leave, stev0 – the housemate – discovered that the car keys had gone awol. This happened due to a miscommunication with regards to a blue addidas bag. Who knew more than one person would have a blue addidas bag. So the thing is, we knew who had one bag, in which the keys were not left for safekeeping and the problem is that we do not know who belongs to the other blue addidas bag. So we are stranded and quite possibly facing the spectre of not having car keys and thus the car for a week [assuming other blue addidas bag turns up next week]. What next? We retrieve anything vaguely valuable from the car and hoof it back home. So what is the point of this? Well, it’s the way people react to shit going pear-shaped. Now, there are several ways to go about this. Welcome to terry’s three steps to ‘when shit goes pear-shaped’. The first thing to do is to get upset. And depending on the severity of the situation, one can get just mildly annoyed or irritated to a full blown vein popping scream feast – one is allowed a fair amount of latitude. The next step is to solve the problem. This solution has to be quick and efficient, the path of least resistance. There is little point in getting melodramatic at this point – it comes later. The objective is to get sorted and carry on. The third step is to laugh about it the next day. Remember its all just adventures and stories to share, get dramatic, add bits to make things funny – everything is funny the next day. As you get more proficient in terry’s three steps, you will not even have to wait to the next day to laugh. So, next time shit goes pear-shaped, remember – bitch, solve, laugh. And it will all be good.

of lucky and the bhangra

The newsagent on lygon street has changed hands again, this time to a sikh guy from new delhi called lucky. He bought over the place from ajit and arul [not their real names] a month or so ago. So, I am sitting at my usual table at my usual café which is right next to lucky’s shop. And he saunters out one day and has a chat with me. And he discovers that like him, I am also a sikh which amuses him no end. “what is your name?” he asks. “terry” I answer. “no no, your real name?” “uh … its sharanjeev” “acha, acha, acha” [yes yes yes in Punjabi – which has to be said three times, mind you.] after which he goes back into his shop. Then he starts to play some bhangra music, very loud. Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, mute the beat “sharanjeev” Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, mute the beat. “sharanjeev” he is screaming out my name and very pleased with himself. Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, Boom-boom, shack, mute the beat. “sharanjeev” I regret telling him my name now. Every time he sees me, he goes, “kay say ho SHARANJEEV?” [how are you sharanjeev]. I am glad that he finds this oh so amusing.

of spare change

What the hell is spare change? There is no such thing as spare change. Spare change would seem to suggest that I do not want it, or that it is more than what I need. And I spot ever so often people, in a misguided guilt-assuaging attempt, part with this so-called spare change. What I want to know is this – at what point does your change become spare? What is the amount at which you decide that you would rather give your change away to some random person than to have it in your pockets? And would you, if not approached by beggars, have just chucked your change away? Is it the weight of the change that bugs you, and so in an attempt to lighten your load, you give some of it away? I don’t get it. Its spare, yes? Do you have so much money that you actually have spares? You would not give away your car spare type, would you? So I have put some thought into this for all of you who feel obliged to give your money away pointlessly. Personally, I would not give my money away as I have none to spare. And I do not have any guilt that needs assuaging, so there is nothing to be gained either. I digress. So when does change become spare? It is not a question of weight because if it were you would get rid of the bigger denomination coins first as they tend to be the heavier ones. There is an inverse relationship between the weight of the coin to its spareness or give awayability. I would tend to argue that what matters is its relative buyability – what you can buy with that coin. Lets start with single coins. There is nothing that you can buy with a five-cent piece, hence it has a high give awayability but almost no buyability. So, where does buyabilty start? I would argue that perhaps it starts at the fifty-cent coin as you can make a phone call with it. As a single piece of coinage, buyability really only become significant with the fifty cent coin. However, since many of us have mobile phones, even the fifty cent coin perhaps does not have that high buyability. Now, when it comes to the gold coins, giveability drops dramatically. Now with a collection of coins, the lowest spending amount would be forty cents – it will let you make a phone call. But once again, most of us have mobiles so forty cents does not necessarily register as a usable amount. However, a packet of gum can cost as low as seventy cents and I contend that that is watershed amount. Essentially, giveawayability gets low as buyability becomes significant but more importantly for all you who are generous-minded, I always have room for spares.

of the asianization of little italy

In the last three years that I have been living in Carlton, it changed very significantly especially the stretch from queensberry street to gratton street. The left side of lygon after queensberry [when coming from the city] has become a strange anomaly in little italy. There are whole slew of new asian eateries - Singaporean, Malaysian, indian, chinese, Korean, thai. This asianization of little italy seems to me to be an issue worth thinking about. Does it merely reflect the changing and increasingly cosmopolitan nature of Melbourne in general? Or is it another manner in which multiculturalism is rearing its head? Are the students that study at the august institutions in Melbourne such an economic force that even the long-standing cultures are getting edged out? Are the Asian students so insular that even a suburb like Carlton, which was originally populated by poor migrants and later by the more economically upwardly mobile, has to transform into a cultural pastiche? We can even look at it in terms of globalisation; the movement of peoples across borders bringing with them the only truly global cultural artefact, that is, money, which inadvertently leads to the trivialisation of cultures into essentialist and reductionist consumable symbols, the capitalist tokenization of food, clothes and entire way of living, the commodification of identity into demographics of consumption and such other rants. It seem to me that what matters in this consideration is paramount is economics. No new argument there.

of 'development'

The National Library in Singapore is finally going to be pulled down. It has been in the gun sights of developers and planners for a while. Its located in what is known as prime city location. It is what is called minutes from public transport. It has what is said to be more area for future development. It is what is called your history is for sale. It is the oldest library in Singapore by a far shot and there are trees there that have been around for more than a hundred years. In a country where there is not much history left, it is a monument defying modernization and good economic practice. And so it will be torn down. It was the first library I ever visited or used. I remember getting my first Dr. Seuss books there, my first Dahl’s. My grandfather had a sporting goods store just around the corner that is now an empty piece of state land. Many a date was arranged on its steps and consummated in the little eatery a hop away. Behind it the fort canning hill, where the first government house in Singapore was built, where before the British found Singapore Malay royalty used to stay. It is where the ghosts of Singapore’s past wander lost over manicured lawns and paved footways. And there’s a nice Fort Canning country club there too. And when it is economically viable to level the hill, we can always save a slab or two to put on the doors of that ‘development’.

of no speak long long

Much happen, not time write, will chop chop say. Since last post, new ibook, I very like, not named yet, suggestions welcome. Hair now purple and pinkish. Housemate back, another out, so new one in. all good. Goddess from Singapore Joanna here, much fun had, miss her lots will. Busy with research, much done doing to do. Much food eat much drink gulp gulp. Sleep better not good yet. Love ibook do. later.

of -ing

of crazy partying, drunken tramping, edgy hair having, experimental music listening, eclectic films watching, salvo shopping, sustainable living, organic eating, obscure authors reading, late night flights of fancy taking. Of ibook having. I am coming my friends.

of stupid hindsights

You should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity – bullet tooth tony, snatch France has banned the wearing of Muslim headdress in schools. Or to be more accurate, France has outlawed conspicuous religious clothing and symbols in classrooms. This piece of legislature was passed in the lower house of the French parliament 494-36. At this point in time, this measure is seemingly targeted at the Muslim women. But what of the Sikhs and Jews who also have conspicuous religious clothing and symbols too. Both sides of the debate have presented what seem like valid arguments. And there are good reasons, and there are dubious reasons for the ban on the headdress. However, it’s a dangerous game of political opportunism, of vote grubbing by various parties from both the secular left, who stand for the separation of state and religion as well as ironically the freedoms of the individual, and the nationalistic, pro- [white] French, anti-Islamic right. Its been argued that its about women’s rights. But what of the thousands of women who marched in Paris asking not for women rights but their human rights. Its been argued that this law will have a significant effect on the radicalised fundamentalist movements, which it undoubtedly will, to either strengthen or weaken remains to be seen. It has been argued that this is another imposition, an extension of an imperial philosophy that demands an rebuttal. The judgement to it will only be made in hindsight, though I hope not from smoking rubble and twisted metal.

of heat stress and human performance

Research has shown that the optimum work temperature is 17-24 degrees Celsius. Research has shown that violent crime increases with increasing temperature. Research has shown that heat decreases attraction between 2 people, regardless of attitude similarity. Research has shown that complex task performance is better when students are in an air-conditioned classroom. Research has shown that accidents increase when air temperature deviates from 20 degrees Celsius. Research has shown that accident rates increase 30% at less than 12 degrees Celsius or more than 24 degrees Celsius and are lowest at 20 degrees Celsius. Research has shown that skilled arm movements are optimum at 21 degrees Celsius. Research has shown that people are less helpful on a hot day. Research has shown that heat stress effects on performance are not linear so the hotter it gets the worse the performance is exponentially. Research has shown that heat interacts with fatigue to decrease efficiency. Research has shown that heat stress impairs efficiency in men more than in women So when the next person says ‘ohh I love the summer, ohh I love the heat’, beat them severely for being so stupid. [references available on request]

of sylvia

While admittedly I am not quite a huge fan of the poetry of sylvia plath, I do think that her book, the bell jar, is a tremendous piece of writing. To me, it’s the female catcher in the rye. In fact, it’s a book I think most teenagers should read, if only to realise that they are not alone in their angst. Also given my attraction to the tragic characters such as ian curtis, kurt cobain, richey james and plath, there is a whole other dimension for my interest in her. So I watched the movie despite the numerous bad reviews of it online. And what a waste of my time. Good god, that’s 117mins of my life that could have been wasted far more enjoyably. Firstly, it should have never been called sylvia – a far more suitable title would have been sylvia and ted. This is as the movie only starts from when she meets ted Hughes in 1956, almost as if the period of her life pre-ted was immaterial. the movie concentrates on her relationship with ted to the extent that one is left unaware that she that she had been trying to get published for a long time and was eventually published in several magazines, that her dad passed way when she was eight – a loss that is reflected in her writing, was a guest editor at a women’s magazine in New York, which she details in the bell jar, that she attempted suicide in 1953 after being rejected from a writing course at Harvard, that she underwent psychotherapy and electro-shock theraphy, that she graduated summa cum laude. She was a very focused and driven woman in her quest to become a writer. But in this rather misogynistic version of her life, it mattered little till Edward Hughes saunters into her life to give it some validation. It makes it seem that her writing could only really become worthy after Hughes’ man influence. It portrays Plath as an obsessively neurotic woman who almost, it can be argued, drives Hughes to be unfaithful to her. That she was this jealous and deranged woman who from the beginning was driving poor ted to misery with her mental instability. But what of her suicide attempt, the death of her father, her being under therapy when she was a teacher, her miscarriage, and her postnatal depression? Well, it must that the real pain of her life would have detracted from the portrayal of her pathological love of Hughes. Well, undoubtedly, Hughes was a tremendous part of her life, its not as if there were no other issues that needed exploring. She was a far more intelligent and complex person than that which the movie portrays - weak, over-emotional and constantly needing validation from a man. In the end, the movie becomes merely a love story – of one woman’s psychotic love of a man who is driven to infidelity by her. I believe it's an insult to the legacy of Sylvia Plath.

of lack sleeps

The lack of sleep is getting to me. Tick tock tickers talking feel very tired fried no space for my rest best performance is fucked sucked away into abyss of my thoughts fought for sanity to breath free we should be so lucky country funky tragically hip desires mired in the politic of the consume exhume corpses for freeway takeaway lunches frozen in cultural representations fragments of noises voices in head drenched in fear near where the angles tread freed from frightfully clichés of pretend offences cancers of the capitalist reality realty drives existence negations of worth vis a vis work will set us free agree? She comes to me in spite to spite me leave in triumph to disown me and she will come again tonight to mock me lies gently whispering into my ears of voices from tomorrow’s black constantly murmuring of yesterday’s truth for tomorrows black she calls in to the wind just breathe just breathe and it will be over soon enough once l let the light go just breathe let go give in just breathe sweet promises of a rest a place for loveliness I have to find her and set her apart secrets answer gone back to before tonight the silence falls apart The lack of sleep is getting to me.

of slippery pops

The whole morning has slipped away from me. The thing is that from 9.2.04, RMIT will be blocking access to free web based emailing thingee which means I can no longer access my hotmail account [cmon billy boy do something about it]. So I spent the whole morning trying to sort out some free POP/smtp email service. But I just cannot seem to make it work. I keep getting socket error. Even the It dude could not figure what was wrong. So this means that I might have to surrender another bit of privacy to the providers of my internet experince. If anyone has any suggestions, pls let me know. At this point I am very frustrated. And tired.

of a letter to nina

Dearest nina, I hope my letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. I myself am doing rather well all considered. I would to get to writing for my thesis but there are some particular problems with regards to getting that accomplished. That brings me to the reason for this letter. I am painfully aware that your health is deteriorating almost daily. It saddens me greatly. You are a vital part of my life and have been since I got involved with you all those years ago. We have been through some trying times, especially during my honours year. All those late nights working together into the wee hours of the morning, you were always there, my only companion. As Dylan Thomas wrote, in a poem once entitled ‘in my craft or sullen art’; In my craft or sullen art Exercised in the still night When only the moon rages And the lovers lie abed And you were my lover who lay waiting seldom complaining as ‘I labour by singing light’. Into the darkness of the winter nights, we worked together. Even then your health was not the best, towards the end the slog of it all got to you and you slipped away from me. But my dear, you did not go gentle into the good night, you raged – raged against the dying of the light. A year has past, and you are not doing well once again. There is not much I can do for you this time. I would like to take you places but your ill health makes you delicate and fragile as such you are confined by the chains that keep you alive. It hurts me to see you needing to be poked and prodded, turn upside down and even at times, gently slapped just to bring you around. It’s time to let you slip in to the gentlest of goodnights. But I cannot let you go just yet. I am afraid, or rather regretful of my selfishness. I still need you with me nina. At least for a few more weeks. The truth is painful, both for you and me, though regretfully more so for you. But it needs to be said. I have found someone to replace you. I am sorry but life goes on for the living. I have to live damn it. My life has to go on nina. I ask you for one last sacrifice for me, please stay around for a while, at least till she comes to me. I pray that you will get to meet her, maybe even spend some time together. And I know you will think well of her. But my dearest nina, you will always be special to me. You were my first and you were the one that got me started on this path of my life. The memory of you will sting for a long while yet. I go to thomas once more for this last thought Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion. Yours sincerely, Terry Johal

of that bastard Murphy

as the regular readers of my blog will know [and yes I mean you both], my lappy top nina is on her last legs. This morning she refused once again to start up and her inclination to crash is very disruptive on my writing. It seems whenever I get a good flow going, she decides it’s too much for her and just gives up on me. I am beginning to feel very insecure when interacting with nina. So anyway, this morning I ran off to the good people at the nextbyte [a mac shoppe] and had a wonderful time chatting and getting the details about software, tech support, warranties etc. and to be frightfully honest, the prospect of spending almost $2500 was a tad annoying since I was planning to buy a new lappy top but not till june when I would have got my tax return. But I had to bite the bullet and say yea to getting it now and being in a potential financial quagmire should the absolutely wondergorgeous people at the scholarship department fuck up as they are wont to do. And guess what happens? Cmon. Give it a go. There are no 14 inch ibooks in stock, they are expected to come in soon but there are no etas on when they might come in, in fact, there are no more 14 inch ibooks in Melbourne. Wait it gets even better, there are no 14 inch ibooks in any of the numerous branches in Australia. What the fuck is that! The store manager was lovely and really nice and what not but sweetie I am still up creek and forget the paddles, the boat is fucked. I face a conundrum. I could get the 12 inch one and it will cost me around $250 less but its also slower and with a 30GB hard drive instead of a 40 GB one. Well, so that’s that I guess. They are holding a 12 inch one for me till next week, if I want that. But I don’t think I should get that. But if nina just goes gentle into that goodnight then I guess I will have no choice. Oh woe is me.

of insomnia into the abyss

Another night spent in the wonderful state of sleeplessness. The thing about not being able to sleep that really gets to me is not the tiredness or the lethargy of the next day; it’s the sheer pointlessness of it. To just lie that looking at the light filtering through the blinds, listening to the noises of the house settling, the wind blowing the plastic garbage bags of green waste, turning and twisting in hopes of finding a sleep inducing position and then comtemplation. That’s what gets to me. my mind is not interested in being functional in any useful manner. It is only interested in snowballing ruminations. You know, when you have one simple thought and then it slowly gains momentum and begins to roll through one’s cognitive mountains till avalanches race down several slopes dangerously into the abyss. and thats not the most pleasant of places. “And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

of raining dogs and dreaming cats

it been raining fairly steadily that last few days and you can blame me for that. It seems whenever I water the garden at night, the heavens decide to join in. its been like the wettest winter in years, definitely since I got here. Something serious like 100mm of rain fell in two hours, insane. But I am loving it. Having spent 25 years in a country with a 28-32 degree C and humidity around 85%, I have had it with the heat. Enough I say, enough. Out damn heat, out. So one would assume that going to sleep when its raining nice nice outside having had a nice nice pasta and a couple of pints of kilkennys would be a snappy tom. Bollocks I tells yah all. I was lying in bed desperately trying to zzz. And then, when I finally fucked off to dreamy, fuck me if I did not have to have some bizzaro dream about fucking cats chasing my ass all around carlton. Oh yes, my fellow drooges, cats, I don’t even like cats but not like my pathological hatred of birds, I just think cats are too smart for me to want to have as a pet, I want unconditional worship from my pet not fucking nonchalance, I can get that anywhere, dammit I demand unfounded and unwavering up-looking-at-me from pets, cats bah chitty shitty bang bang I say to cats. So I have this bullshit waste of rem sleep crap about cats and I awake vaguely displeased at having wasted my sleep on – arghh I hate bullshit cat dreams. Ok, enough. And then I decide, hey what the flaming bits, I’ll call people up and play hookey, and no mother son or daughter wants to play. Of course, they were those that thought I wanted to play hockey – I’ll put it down to cross cultural communication failures. No, no, everybody wants to work, ohh ahh I have to work man, eat to play the rent, feed the fucking cats – arghh that’s them blasted cats again. So then I am in uni, at my desk. And I have work to do, work that I really should do, but oh no I don’t do the work. I surf the net, reading all the soccer news there is too read, lament that I don’t get emails, juggle for while, get a coffee, go to ebay and I am losing as usual, I have not won a single thing, not one, oh no it would be too much to let me win just one fucking bloody thing, all you bloody nerds have to just have to win all the time, oh oh look at this mummy I won this whatsit, oohhhh so go suck some cats. There’s those cats again. I want to go home but I cant. Cos you see when I left the house, I took cos it was raining and cold my big ass bouncer black don’t mess with me jacket and would you just know it that the sun comes out as I am walking to the bastard uni and now still its out there just waiting, oh you son of a bitch. I cant go home cos I don’t have the right jacket. oh woe is me.

of my nina's foreboding moodiness

nina has been acting up recently. She has been very moody and last night just refused to do anything. I have been with her for now almost two years. She has been with me through the turmoils of my honours thesis, and now through the first year of my masters. But she is old and frankly she just cannot hold her own against the others. I fear that our association will be over soon. but i rather let me just be then to wait for her demise. i will miss her, it hurts but life goes on, does it not? and to be perfectly honest, I am already looking around for a thinner and lighter model.

of feral tomatoes and dead chillies

i have little to say today so here's a post that is actually an email that i sent to stev0 [my housemate who is currently in singapore]. this was from two weeks ago on Saturday, I pulled the first tomato off the tomato plant. I am quite excited about it. I will be putting it my sandwich for Monday’s lunch. Its going to be sweet. The tomato plants have been going very feral over the last few weeks. I think that next time you should put less plants in. we have lost 2 parsley plants and the Vietnamese mint [which I am told is not a mint plant but rather related to the basil plant] is not doing to well but josh has a cutting that is well so we can always get some off him later to regrow in case it does not make it. Other than that all the plants are doing well. Last week, I spent pretty much the whole weekend sorting the garden out. We lost about 65-70 chilli plants that got root-bound and just shrivelled up and died. They were all the ones that were not repotted. I had to clear the whole mess, salvage as much soil as I could and get the dead bits all bagged and transport ready. The lynx came around with 6-7 bags of green waste, some which has been slowly breaking in his backyard for a year or so. So we have a whole bunch of bags of green waste, most of which I will be bringing over to nizza’s and I’ll keep 2-3 bags. There are also two bags of soil for future use. Weeds, there was a whole, mad bunch of weeds that I had to sort out as well. That is literally back breaking work. Nat and josh came over on Sunday and helped me deal with the feral tomatoes. There was a jungle all around the barbie, once I sorted that out I spread the pine bark/mulch all over there. It looks a lot better now, very neat and clean. The potato box broke as I tried lifting it, there are a few potatoes but nothing to get excited about. The chives are well, the sage is well, the thyme is well, five of the parsley plants survived, four are well. The dill is like a tree. Nothing can be done about it, but I am waiting for it to flower and hopefully get some seeds off it. All the repotted chilli plants are well but I had to stalk most them. It might be time to repot them as well. They really seem to enjoy the big pots and also the big pots dry up a lot less quickly. and the chilli padi ones are beautiful. I need to harvest the chillies as some have started to dry on the plant itself. The mint was struggling for while and is slowly coming back to full power. And what is the point of catnip? Please explain. this was from last week This Sunday, I plucked off a few more tomatoes. After consultation with josh, its been deemed that they should be taken on the vines once they blush [I love that description]. Some have developed this strange thing like the flesh eating bacteria, they seem to be slowly being eaten. There is so much twine tying the stalks up all over the shop, it looks like a giant spider with blue webbing has gone silly in the patch. I also harvested a bunch of chillies and have used them in cooking. I think its time to repot the ones in the medium pots. They seem to be developing root rot. The problem is that the pots dry up really quickly when its hot but then get overwatered when the days are cool. Its very hard to regulated their watering. Also I suspect they might be getting root bound. The ones in the big pots need watering every other day and they seems to be very happy in the pots. I’ll probably get some bigger pots in the next few days. I bought a trigger attachment for the hose and watering the plants is heaps easier and with the level 2 water restrictions completely legal. I also took all but two of the parsley plants out of the patch. They don’t get much sun since the tomatoes went feral. I also took two if the chives out which are growing too close to each other and starting to compete. Oh and the sage is going wild. I have cut chucks off and started drying them out. I put them in brown paper bag and put them on the toaster. And when I use the toaster the kitchen smells awesome. Right on bro. At the end, we should be right sorted for sage in winter. The Vietnamese mint has given up its ghost, well almost. So I have cut several stalks off and put them in water and hopefully the kick on and develop some roots so I can put them back into the ground later. The camomile died and I sorted the soil out and put it a shadier place and its slowly coming up again. There’s one stalk and it flowered a few days ago. I must say that it was fairly gratifying. The dill had flowered and there are little pods on it. Once they start to darken I will take them off for seeds. Other than that, the garden is well. oh, and all else is well too.

of waking up to skid row

ah the day started beautifully. my soon-to-be-moving-out-housemate decided to blast my skid row cd to the enire neighbourhood at six fourty five in the am. it was so nice of him to get me out of bed so early in the morning. he is such a sweetie. just wanted me to begin my day nice and annoyed. just like when on saturday, when he got back after a six weeks holidays in singapore, when he had to knock on my door at 8 in the am, just to let me know he was back. like i said, he is just such a sweetheart. it would not be so bad if i was not going thru my insomnia cycle. but now that he is back at least i have someone to pick on repeatedly, repeatedly. my previous post seems to have at least created some interest. the comments assure me that i am not writing in a vaccuum.

of northern lights

In the shadow of my soul, I can see you. I can hear the strains of your northern lights peeping through the veils. Gleamed beams of wanderlust strobes floating while the gentle beat and the arresting strings weave a tapestry for us. Each knot and tie a note of pure melancholia. Melancholia that is you and me. It's not that I am without hope. Its much more. They say hope sets one free. They say hope is the lifeblood that makes us human. I say hope is dangerous. It creates illusions and delusions. It makes one expectant of that something special and unique. A desert is infinite number of sand grains that are ultimately infinitesimal. We are but god's grains. But I think of you. Where are you now? Nobody knows. A grain that was carried away by the wind. This grain misses you, remembers you. But how many even remember your name. In the shadow of my soul, I can see you. Gods fireworks. The Artist raving to the silent rhythms of his head. The cosmic beat pulses through the ethereal fairies dance. Northern Lights occur when particles from the sun are thrown against the earth by solar winds. When the particles collide with earth's atmosphere, the energy of the particles is turned into light, the Northern Lights. Beautiful strange waves flow into my life. Some gentle vortexes. Some jagged ebbs. Some crescendo quietly Some indecisive eddies. All of which leave me worse. Empty and crushed in a heap of emotions lost and exaggerated. But only I love you. Love you. Love you so to have destroyed you. I am sorry. In the shadow of my soul, I see you. You never talk. Never say a word. Just watch. Watch my ways and me. In the soul of my shadow, I see me. A grain waiting for the wind.

this is something i wrote a while back in a burst of emotion - a long long a while ago. It is almost embarrassing to post this unedited but I have little idea even what it is about let alone how to edit it.

of being happy and its pointlessness

I rarely am accused of suffering from happiness. And it is not something I worry too much about. To me, happiness is a wasted emotion much like anger. Other than perhaps the extremely dim-witted, I don’t know any happy people. People are generally vaguely content with slight and frequent inclinations to boredom. The sensation of being sad comes when people confuse boredom and inactivity with melancholy. You think I am wrong? So why is it when someone is ‘feeling’ sad, they get told to get out and do something, anything to get their minds off their problems? Isn’t being busy just not being bored? I am not saying that we don’t get sad oh so rarely, but rather that more often than not, we are bored rather than sad. But how if it comes down to that its when we are bored, that we have time to actually contemplate our existence, when we are alone, we have no option but to start thinking. And it is this thinking that makes us feel sad. That would explain out almost pathological desire for the company of others. That would explain why we cannot be alone and are constantly looking for others to share. That would explain why we fear boredom and are constantly looking for things to do. So what then, what then? thank god for capitalism. Perhaps the entire basis of capitalism is to prevent boredom. We are, especially in the last 20 years, being sold life-style be it in a latte or a pair of shoes. The product is not near as important as what it represents. The links we draw to materialism and self-esteem are fairly obvious. But the other impact of our wanton consumption is that it prevents or at least reduces boredom. One has to only look at the size of the mega malls. Shopping is a tremendously time consuming activity. admittedly, I am pushing the argument a tad, but indulge me and just contemplate it for a wee while.

of ass fuck and immaculate conception

‘What got me by during that period was conceiving of the history of philosophy as a kind of ass-fuck, or, what amounts to the same thing, an immaculate conception. I imagined myself approaching an author from behind and giving him a child that would indeed be his but would nonetheless be monstrous.’ -- Deleuze on writing about philosophers. i have been writing a chapter which included a section on the rhizome as a possible framework for the internet. i have spent most of last week writing up on what is the rhizome and how one can take the six qualities of the rhizome and relate them to the rhizome. friday afternoon, i discover a thesis done in 1997 which replicates what i am doing, not only that but almost reads like what i have written. i am crushed. i have been advised to just plod on and write. i guess that is fine as my chapter goes beyond the rhizome but nonetheless, it was very demoralizing. Its like a weeks worth of writing and months of research negated. But it goes on, does it not? i shall now go back to reading more of d&g.

of nothing but blue skies and giant crows

‘I can see clearly now / the rain is gone/ I can see all obstacles in my way / gone are the dark clouds had me blind / its gonna be a bright, bright sun shiny day/ I think I can make it now / the pain is gone / all of my bad feelings have disappeared / there is a rainbow I’ve been praying for / its gonna be a bright, bright sun shiny day / look all around / nothing but blue skies / look straight ahead nothing but blue skies’ – I can see clearly now by jimmy cliff it is a special feeling walking to uni when the sun is shining and the skies are blue and the grass green and the winds crisp and listening to jimmy cliff singing about the same. It’s the feeling of happy. To look, gaze forward and see only blue skies and rainbows. To have the darkness and doubt just lift off you while you sip your morning flat white. Some of you will remember reading my earlier post with regards to biking it to uni since the tram prices increased 100% for me. I did that for a couple of weeks but I have gone back to walking to uni. While I still maintain a strong dislike of the heat and the flies but over the weeks, I have really missed my morning music. I feel sluggish, like I am idling while my day starts to zoom past. There is something very affirming to have ‘a thumping bass, a smiling face for a loving race’ while one trudges along to begin the grind of the daily. But it is also about the journey back. I miss walking along cardigan and lygon to a beat and rhyme while crowds mill around me all about their buzz buzzy. Music is my silence. as i was walking to uni this morning, i saw a hugegiantous crow. it was at least a foot high, definitely at least up to my knee. do you the collective noun for crows is murder? wahhh. that’s right - a murder of crows. [remember the simpsons episode where homer became like the king of the crows. that was a good one.] ah, the crows - they are the ninjas of the bird world. dressed in all black and screaming like a struck pig.

of lappy top's potential demise

Its been a fairly distressful day. My lappy top is exhibiting signs of unhappiness. When I boot up, at times the message ‘operating system not found’. The last time this happened, my hard drive failed and cost me $300 to get a new one. But worst was that I lost what I had not yet backed up onto the uni server which was a fair bit. This time I reckon its time to look at investing in a new lappy top. So that’s what I have been trying to sort out this morning. So far, the g4 ibook seems to be the best option. there are some attractive deals on ebay but when I factor in the Microsoft office software, they tend to cost the same or more than the ibook. I was planning to invest in a new lappy in a few months and this potential demise of my lappy has put a monkey wrench in the works. I know I promised more trainspotting but more important things beckon, to get into that today. So maybe in a few days time. However, if anyone has suggestions for lappy tops, please let me know.

of hesse, orwell and [bruce] lee

I hate to get all trainspotting [pm 12.12.03] on you but the weekend I just had was one that I really enjoyed. You will just have to indulge me. My weekend began on Friday after I left the office. I made a stop over at borders to get a book as a pressie for a friend. Its very strange but this book has been cropping up in a lot of my conversations of late. Its siddhartha by herman hesse [the complete text is available online]. A couple of months ago I reread it one night and one paragraph at the end of the book just jumped out at me. "When someone is searching," said Siddhartha, "then it might easily happen that the only thing his eyes still see is that what he searches for, that he is unable to find anything, to let anything enter his mind, because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed by the goal. Searching means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, oh venerable one, are perhaps indeed a searcher, because, striving for your goal, there are many things you don't see, which are directly in front of your eyes."text From the point of a researcher, that is an ahh moment. I believe very strongly in constant goal setting in order to maintain momentum in life. If not boredom sets and mediocrity creeps in. But I guess its about the flowers, no? There is a passage in orwell’s coming up for air [the complete text is available online], "I stayed there for a bit, leaning over the gate. I was alone, quite alone. I was looking at the field, and the field was looking at me. I felt--I wonder whether you'll understand. What I felt was something that's so unusual nowadays that to say it sounds like foolishness. I felt HAPPY. I felt that though I shan't live forever, I'd be quite ready to. … I only want to be alive. And I was alive that moment when I stood looking at the primroses and the red embers under the hedge. It's a feeling inside you, a kind of peaceful feeling, and yet it's like a flame."text But how does this relate to the passage by hesse. Well, siddhartha and George bowling are similar in some ways. Both have reached a point in their life where stasis begins to set in and they are not certain of where they need to head towards. In each in his own way finds an answer. For bowling, it’s the realisation that the past in best left in the past and that the favourable tints of memories do not stand up to the glare of the present, it’s the realisation of the simple and natural. For siddhartha, after he has seen the extremes that life can offer, he ends up with a boatman and the river. The wonderful thing about the river is its voice; a voice few of us tend to want to hear. the river is not for one who seeks, it is for one who seeks to journey. As bruce lee once said, ‘Be water my friend.’ The wonderful thing about being fluid is being adaptive. Jeet kune do in lee’s words is not a fighting technique but rather a technique the result of his opponent’s. It is like water flowing over cracks, always adjusting and getting around the obstacles. Being shapeless and formless like water can lead to an easing of one’s journey. But mind this though, as he says, water can flow but it can crash. It is active and adaptive but not apathetic. So what brings hesse, orwell and lee together? I guess one needs to realise that while there is a destination that we need to aim for, how we get there is as important as getting there. We should not be blinded by the past, chained by memory. And to ease our travels, we be adaptive and not reactive. It boils down to this - the zen art of navigation - you might not get to where you want to be, but you will get to where you need to be. [there is more trainspotting to be done but my daily time commitment to blogging is up. I will continue tomorrow]

Of farewells and suddenness

A few odd years ago, I spotted a cd single from a band that I had heard off but was not really into. The band was called the verve and the single was ‘history’. I rarely buy singles but the cover was awesome. It was a picture of a theatre front with the phrase "all farewells should be sudden”. That seemed to me to be a very sound idea. Also it was the last single off their album ‘northern soul’ as the lead singer had left the band and the band was splitting up even before the single was released [they did eventually get back and record another album after which they split up again]. The sweet irony or shrewd ploy was too delicious not to take a bite into. Also on the single was an acoustic version of their song ‘on your own’. Both these songs have since become some of my favourites as have the band. Later I was to find out that it was lord byron that wrote that phrase and that the lyrics were ripped off from William blake’s poem London. Nonetheless, the verve cast a huge shadow on my emotional psyche for a long while with their songs especially ‘the drugs don’t work’, ‘history’, ‘on your own’, ‘space and time’ and ‘lucky man’. There are too many songs that scrapped many raw nerves. Richard Ashcroft wrote emotional lyrics that were honest. And being honest about emotions is one of the hardest things that most of us ever have to do. However, ever since he found love with kate radley and become a father, his lyrics have lost their edge and his music is gushy and, with the over doing of the strings, rather syrupy. He used to be the poster boy of our tortured pharmaceuticaled emotions e-ed out generation who then like many of us slowly arrived at relative normality. [kate radley was formerly a keyboardist with spiritualized and the love of jason spaceman. She left him and the band for Ashcroft who had recorded ‘drugs don’t work’ for her. spaceman then recorded an open love letter ‘Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space’ for her, which is a mournfully beautiful album. Ashcroft then recorded his solo debut “alone with everyone” [the title of a poem by charles bukowski from his book ‘love is a dog from hell’] which was I guess his letter to radley, a very satisfied and contented letter. She must be quite the woman.] Hmmm. I seem to have lost the point. Back to farewells. So over the years I have made it a policy to make my farewells sudden. I thought it made it easier for all. In fact, I then developed my concept of sudden movement to complement sudden farewells. Now everything had to be done suddenly such that the mind did not get time to contemplate the thoughts that inevitably accompany farewells. Farewells create distaste and dislike for the one whom you are bidding farewell as it hurts, it makes you feel exposed and venerable. It’s a power they have not by your grace but through the very nature of the farewell. its almost as if they are punishing you for having to leave. You must not let this happen, so you make your farewells sudden. And never look back. Ever. So you stop using the word ‘bye’. It’s always ‘later’ or for those you like ‘take care’. Or you can go to the extreme of not even acknowledging arrivals. I reached a stage once where I answered the phone with a ‘yah’ or ‘what’ and hung up without even a grunt. Very frustrated people used to call me back so that they could try to finish telling me what it was they called me for. When I meet people, the most I would do was nod. If they were lucky, a grunt accompanied. And it makes others uncomfortable. The thing is that we are so used to getting closure in all that we do, we need the bye. But yet it’s a bye that must leave the farewell door just that little bit open, a crack into the light of future meetings. Observe next time how rarely people actually even use the word bye, even less used is goodbye. When it is used, it tends to always be accompanied with a smile or grin, or the word itself is dragged out – byeee. Try next time to say bye in a firm and strong voice without any facial expression. Just look into the other’s eyes and say a strong bye. Chances are it will make the other person tense and apprehensive. There is a finality to that which unnerves most. So are sudden farewells the way to go? Should we just forget the farewell altogether? I am not sure anymore. The problem is the issue of closure. And here’s a morbid thought – you can never really know which farewell is the last you will share with that person. If we could see the time between hellos, would we perhaps be a little more forgiving, a little more tender? “its better to be the leaver than the leavee cos the leaver leaves you but the leavee is left” –woody allen everyone says I love you

of insomnia and the old man taking my money

The weather ha