Edmund Tan

A Friend-o-meter

2010-06-01T00:41:00.002+08:00

Mia: Don't you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don't know. That's a good question.
Mia: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

-From the movie, Pulp Fiction

Observe closely the daily interactions in your life, and you will find that there is more than a grain of truth in the above.

Life's Hard

2010-05-10T21:41:00.002+08:00

Lecture, tutorial, lecture, tutorial, lecture, tutorial...

Other that those, I still have to juggle a problematic soccer CCA, commitments to friends and family, and my personal space. The seemingly interminable currents of work are threatening to burn the nebulous wires within my brain. I don't strive to be the best of the best, but I do expect a certain standard from myself. Reaching these expectations are going to be a true test of my mettle, I know. My father said so too. After the 'A' Levels, it will be less stressful (excluding the NS). Hence, I will bear with the hardship and trudge on tenaciously.

Life's hard, but my cock's harder, and that's all I need to weather the ordeals I'm going to face.

NEWS REEL

2010-04-05T22:21:00.003+08:00

With the prices of vehicles rocketing through the roof, any purchase will be seen as an act of imprudence or ostentation. Since it's going to be exorbitant anyhow, why not gun for the best of the best?

Unveil the Lamborghini Murcielago Super Veloce.

I can hear the thuds from jaws dropping to the floor. This car needs no pimpin'. It's already cooler than absolute zero. This is my dream car. I have decided: it's either this or nothing when I'm of legal age to drive.

Once A Friend, Always A Friend?

2010-03-11T19:28:00.011+08:00

With considerable effort, the evanescent memory surfaces from an ocean of thoughts. It was during the embryonic stage of my secondary school life. Being ever so averse to change, adapting to an entirely different environment was, it seemed to me at that time, an onerous odyssey. I was still reminiscing about the colourful life in my alma mater and hadn' t really accepted the absence of the opposite gender. Of course, there were the execrable she-males that have become the hallmarks of elite institutions. That was another minus point. Therefore, I found my peevish and mischievous temperament not inexcusable.

And so, a particular boy happened to be on the receiving end of my devilish side. As many of my cronies can attest to, my skills of annoyance and condescension are top drawer. They weren' t something I would be proud of exactly, but it has become a unique personality trait that many of my cronies feel ambivalent about. To go into the nitty-gritties of how I tormented him would muddy the gentlemanly disguise I have fought tooth and nail to preserve all these years. So, I would not encumber the readers with the unnecessary information.

Parody of parodies, as time dissolved, a frienship was forged. A paradox - in which foes turned into friends. How it had developed was unclear to me, but the camaraderie and brotherliness were unmistakable.

Then, time did its vanishing act, and a little less than four years fleeted by. It would be absolutely apposite to quip "Time flies" at that very moment. Whether the bond withstood the test of time, it was hard to figure out. There were too many variables. In fact, the only invariable was variation. "Time would tell," they say. It wouldn't on this occasion.

He had his issues, his troubles, and his vexations. We understood that he was probably slightly different, and he was grappling with his vertiginous life. That wasn't his fault. The previous generation should be shouldering the blame and make amends accordingly. Not him. That was why we tolerated his foibles. Nobody is perfect. We could accept that. However, he wanted to be perfect. For so long, he felt like a mote -- aimless and insignificant. Each minute movement of his is dictated by the gusts and draughts. He had no control over his unenviable life. "This has to stop," he told himself.

He wanted change. He resented the staus quo. Therefore, he began to formulate his own perfectionist philosophy. He set himself unattainable goals and endeavoured towards them. He tried to put on a brave front, and even acted egocentric. Deep down inside, he was quietly wallowing in self-pity for his inadequacies. At that juncture, there was no question he was inching towards the cliff of insanity.

Insanity works like gravity -- all you need is a push. And the push did come eventually, unfortunately. Attending a series of workshops, which purports to elevate your self-esteem, was the perfect recipe for disaster. By the time we realized it, it was too little too late. He had already gone up and over the edge. There was no turning back. Only a bottomless pit looming ahead of him.

As he sinks further into the pit, we stand hunched over on top, extending our helping hand. But, he chooses to ignore it because he is too ashamed to accept our aid, maybe? Or he could be blind to our hospice for it is pitch black inside? We don't know.

Presently, if I were to meet him, I wouldn't know how to react. He is like a stranger to me. Not someone I can understand truly and deeply. It is ironic how human beings are subjected to the caprice of Fate. We start off as strangers, and we end as strangers.

Then, I came to a rude awakening. We cannot expect each and every relationship to be long-lasting, much less eternal. He has let us go, why not we reciprocate? Maybe we should live and let live. He will be asphyxiating if we hold on to him.

Maybe we should forgive and forget, as the saying goes. Not that he needs to beg for any forgiveness. He has done no wrong.

Maybe? Not anymore. Surely, we should.

Retard In Disguise

2010-01-20T23:00:00.011+08:00

At the workplace, it is inescapable that we make small talk in order to not risk being portrayed as standoffish. This is acceptable, and in fact beneficial, as long as the tete-a-tete does not hinder your efficacy.

And so, our story begins.

This bold declaration above came about while I was toiling through my work and my colleague practically quite did nothing at all. He was absolved of blame as he had a physical defect in his wrist. Or so he said. Working at a factory could be somewhat repetitive. To break the tedium, we engaged in some mindless chit-chat across a panoply of topics. We talked about ourselves, e.g. where we live, which school are we from, which CCAs do we participate in, etcetera. This colleague of mine was singularly reticent about his school and where he stayed and so I had to change the topic to further our conversation.

As I had heard from him that he had taken leave to accompany his grandmother to the doctor and conveniently catch a movie with his friends, I decided to broach the subject on movies. The movie he had watched was Avatar (pronounced as air-vuh-tahr, not ah-vah-tahr), which had been receiving much hype. Being the curious me, I sought his opinion on the movie. I had expected him to lavish praise on James Cameron's gargantuan production. To my surprise, he begged to differ from the perspective of the masses. He was critical towards the movie, claiming that it was "stupid" and "difficult to understand". These two remarks seemed to me as contradictory and thus, left me confounded. In a bid to know more about the movie, I asked him his reasons for the negative comments. He stuttered at first but thought of a reasonably sound explanation after awhile. His reason for labelling Avatar as "stupid" was the omission of an exciting action sequence. According to him, the protagonist, Jake Sully, mananged to tame the strongest creature in the blue aliens' world. This was deemed impossible as no one had done it before. Unfortunately, such a momentous fighting scene between the creature and Jake Sully was cut out. How he knew which scenes were censored is still a mystery to me. Anyway, that was why my colleague called the movie "stupid". Then, Avatar was "difficult to understand" because it contained a "fuck scene" (those were his exact words) between Jake Sully and Neytiri. As a result, primary school students, who apparently lack carnal knowledge, would find it "difficult to understand". Noting his discerning eye for movies, I asked him the movies which he would recommend to me. Being the critic that he was, he was quick to recognise that there was no such thing as a perfect movie. I had to acquiese with him on this point. Perfection is decidedly unachievable. So, I proceeded to ask him which movie he had watched was the closest to attainng perfection.

And here came the punch line.

"Transformers is the almost perfect movie," he said with a professorial air and a glint in his eyes. I maintained my stolid countenance. He carried on professing his admiration for Trasformers without my prompting this time. All the while, he complimented Transformers for its suspenseful plot, frenetic action sequences and classy acting.

I have not seen Transformers myself and hence, it would be awfully insular to discount its merits on my part. Having said that, I am convinced that Transformers is by no means a flawless artwork.

And here is the crux of the issue. Teenagers, nowadays, often fail to appreciate a genuinely praiseworthy movie. All they care about are SFX, CGI and BDSM. I am no movie aficionado. I am clueless about artistic direction. When it comes to acting, I am a worse judge than Ellen Degeneres is in American Idol. But at the very least, I am able to identify movies such as American Beauty as a movie with a message. Didn't we learn in Social Studies that by picking out the message or purpose of a source, it indicates a higher level of thinking? Then why can't we do the same for movies? I fancy watching slapstick movies (e.g. Scary Movie, Zombieland) as well to get a good laugh and train my abs. But the distinction is here. I perceive such movies as simple pure fun and do not expect them to aim anywhere near moral or intellectual high ground. And that is what I am driving at. To be cognizant of the fact that Scary Movie can only make your sides hurt and Transformers is nothing but artificial action entertainment. They offer no sophistication at all.

The worst part of all these is people pay to watch these movies while those really deserving ones are, more often than not, box-office debacles.

I am still a greenhorn but still has my fair share of watching movies. If anyone wants any advice, I highly recommend American Beauty. That is my favourite movie so far. To get an idea of what is good acting, take note of Lester Burnham's visage when he dies. Genius.

And please. Don't ever say Transformers is the almost perfect movie. Don't be the ignominy of human cognition.

Paedophobia

2010-01-19T18:04:00.005+08:00

I was struck with a malady. I am not aware of the ubiquity of this disease. It is neither incurable nor excruciating. Nonetheless, I would prefer to live without it. The disease I was afflicted with was paedophobia.

I was seriously concerned with this particular affliction because it seemed like I was the only one to be bothered by paedophobia. I made up this disease. Whether it exists or not, I do not know. Since I made it up, I should be able to tell you what it is.

Paedophobia, as its name suggests, is the fear of children. In my case, it was very mild. I would neither go berserk nor shun them when I met children. However, I had a proclivity to avoid contact with children. The rationale was unclear even to myself. I did not know if I was afraid of hurting them or I just lacked the love for children. Whenever I saw people cajoling children so effortlessly and yet I could not do it, I always tell myself it was because they had taken care of a child before. Of course, it was a poor excuse.

Initially, I thought nothing of it. It was no big deal to me. However, as time went by, I became increasingly bothered by it. Get-togethers with relatives were quite frequent and usually toddlers and small children would be around. Being introverted by nature (and this is substantiated by the DISC Test and Myer-Briggs Test), I naturally feel awkward in such occasions. Furthermore, I could not horse around with children due to my ailment. Therefore, I was somewhat like the proverbial sore thumb. And as more time went by, people began to ask questions. 'Why am I so quiet?' or 'Why do I talk so little?', they would ask. This was an especially pressing issue as my sister was an absolute contrast to me. She was helpful, gregarious and most of all, good with kids. This was despite the fact that she had never taken care of children before. I knew everyone perceived me as some kind of weirdo. That feeling was dreadful and yet I felt I could do nothing about it. Probably, I was being apathetic.

All these changed on a fateful trip to Malaysia last December. I did not know why but I always either learned an important lesson or was touched by a poignant moment whenever I visited in Malaysia.

I went there, as usual, to visit my Malaysian relatives, primely my grandmother who was getting on in years. This time I went to Taiping, Sepatang, which was a quaint coastal village. From what I know, the place was the main exporter of charcoal and cockles in Malaysia. The pace of life at Sepatang was very slow. The village did not have high-tech entertainment like we had in the cities. Computers, handphones, gaming consoles were a rarity.

During the stay, my Second Aunt had arranged my mother and I to reside in her abode. When I stepped into her house, lo and behold, there were two children, who were both my nephew and niece. I felt the sky crashing down on me. I had no qualms living in a slightly backward village. However, throw in two children and it became mission impossible. As I had said earlier, there was nothing much to do bar watching the television. Consequently, clowning with the kids became the main preoccupation. As my mother could not be around me all the time, I was left defenceless against the menacing tykes.

At my wit's end, I decided to grasp the nettle. I was not going to run away from the problem. Instead, I was going to face it head on. I plucked up courage and opened up. A path of uncertainty laid ahead of me but I remained undaunted. Fight, I would, 'til the very end.

I was apprehensive but did not want to appear incompetent in front of my relatives. Moreover, my nephew was like a soft toy in flesh. His reactions were totally unpredictable, which were both good and bad because he brought so much amusement to me; on the other hand, he was difficult to look after.

After seven days of 'rigorous' training, I came out of Malaysia a new man. It was a deeply rewarding expereince for me. I strided across Woodlands Checkpoint and was greeted with a refreshing breeze . I felt a new lease of life breathed into me as the breeze coursed through my nostrils and enriched my lungs with that oh-so-good oxygen. I stood rooted and closed my eyes for a second to fully comprehend this momentous freedom. I could now receive children with arms wide open.

I was cured.

Dearth of Mirth

2010-01-07T13:23:00.007+08:00

Quite some time ago, I watched a documentary entitled 'The History of Joke'. It was basically a documentary on how humour has evolved since the dawn of civilisation. From the jesters of medieval ages to the stand-up comedians we have today, the art of comedy has come quite a long way indeed.

Despite the ways humour has morphed and transformed, the one end in mind is almost always invariable. Its aim is to make you laugh. Laughter, however, is only the reaction. To put it in another way, laughter is a manifestation of an emotion. Happiness or euphoria happens to be this emotion. Your id builds up happiness through responding to a series of scenarios that stimulate the brain's emotive section. When happiness reaches its climax, it is released as laughter. Of course, laughter in true effect does not work so methodically. It is very spontaneous and instantaneous. As such, you do not notice the processes that trigger laughter.

Putting the neuroscience aside, laughter, as we know it, is something pleasurable. As a result, we are inclined towards the experience of humour. As paraphrased from 'The History of Joke', laughter is something you express when you are unable to put into words the feelings you feel. Very much like crying. When the sadness becomes unbearable or indescribable, you tear.

Going into the technicalities of laughter itself seem highly unreliable for I personally am bereft of the necessary expertise. What I am looking to discuss is humour. Probing into the cause rather than the effect.

Having said all that, I must clarify that humour is decidedly subjective. As an inexperienced being on Earth, I dare not exclaim what is considered humour definitively.

So let us begin.

First and foremost, what is funny depends very much on the circumstance and the atmosphere. That is why people do not crack up during a funeral because that means disrespect. Even if some dullard springs out and ejaculates 'I'm Indian and I'm gay!', you are supposed to stifle your laughter. Hang on. No. That thought should not even cross your mind. You may be thinking, 'Who the hell knows?' But, it is the thought that counts, if you know what I mean. I am being exaggerated over here, but you and I know that once in a blue moon some freak accident is going to happen and tickle your funny bone at the most inopportune moment. Then you have to bite the bullet and start hacking at your own neck to prevent your vocal chords from producing nary a snigger. Jigsaw fashion.

Hence, as a matter of fact, laughter has become a sort of moral volition instead of an instinctive behaviour. Maybe 'moral volition' sounds a tad too severe. However, one cannot deny that humour has metastasised into a complex issue. It is no longer a matter of 'funny' or 'boring'. There are too many considerations and consequneces at stake. I say these possibly because I have not worked in the society and thus, I may not comprehend the profound impact of social etiquette and behaviour yet.

Regardless of those, I believe that people still lack a 'primitive' side, so to speak. They are too uptight. They are constantly in distress, worrying over how they appear to others or whether they are offending someone. They cannot allow themselves to just let out a burst of laughter, right from the heart and soul. They become devoid of joy. They laugh because they want to conform. They laugh because it is a form of geniality. They laugh because it is right. They laugh because it is wrong. They laugh because they do not know if it is right or wrong. Actually, there is no right or wrong. It is not a sin to laugh. Just laugh. The only condition is to laugh genuinely. Laugh heartily. No longer is there a need to laugh at a joke to reward a person for his effort. If it is not funny, do not laugh. If you have the guts, tell him so. Stop laughing at anything and everything, unless you really mean it.

This is not about socialising. If you think so, you already missed the point. This is about being you. Stop sporting a mask like everyone else. Make yourself detest the peals of faux laughter. Only then will you nurture authentic interaction and communication.

And do not worry about laughing at someone's misfortune or plight. When you are able to laugh genuinely, you will not commit such evils. That is because you have shed the facade. You display extraodinary gumption in being willing to unfurl yourself. That, in itself, is meritorious. By filling your laughter with heart and veracity, you have attained that intimacy with your true self. Therefore, how will one, who envelopes the purity of the soul, bow down to such rotten behaviour?

Alas, I sincerely exhort you to laugh by your own free will. Curb the epidemic of faux laughter before it is too late. There is a dearth of mirth right now. Do not let it turn into the death of mirth.

The Man City Conundrum

2009-12-22T11:22:00.003+08:00

This is the last post of the very uneventful year 2009. It is considered uneventful because I expected it to be hectic and relentless, to say the least. However, it turned out to be rather disappointing and I had to take much of the responsibility. I did not push myself as hard as I should and as such, I felt empty and unfulfilled. In spite of this, I am not remorseful for my actions for I cherish each and every moment spent with my family and friends. Nevertheless, it could, and should have been a much better year.

I am sorry to bore you again with my analysis on football. I know this is beginning to be an eyesore for most of you, if not all. Do forgive me as I am bereft of ideas. I promise to include more intriguing topics soon.

Mark Hughes' departure was received with consternation all around the English football scene. This shocking news incited reactions from coaches, players and quite possibly, the entire footballl fraternity. Several symbolic figures stood out against the shabby treatment of the former Manchester United frontman. There is considerable furore over the impatience of the club's bigwigs, the administration and the rationale of the dismissal. I shall not delve into that because I think it is always more important to place our emphasis on the football itself.

After all the dust has settled, the first question that comes to mind is whether the sacking of Mark Hughes was the right decision. For me, it was, without a doubt, the best decision ever made. Manchester City can only progress and achieve their giant ambitions without Mark Hughes. A slew of senseless purchases at inflated price tags last summer was the first inkling of things to come. Despite the stockpiling of forwards, Mark Hughes has remarkably allowed an injury crisis to hit Manchester City's frontline. Should I laugh at or laud his prescience?

Secondly, Mark Hughes does not have a clear footbal philosophy. He is not as visionary as Mourinho, Hiddink or Ferguson. When a club lacks a unique brand of football, being the cream of the crop becomes ever so insuperable. Manchester City needs that extra ingredient, that Chemical X to separate himself from the rest. This deficiency is conspicuously present in Mark Hughes as he struggles to gel his superstars together.

Thirdly, his patent tactical inferiority results in points lost rather than gained many a time. His monotony with formations makes Manchester City predictable. His inability to take decisive actions at critical periods allows minnows to throw the sucker punch or denies Manchester City the chance to stage a comeback. When you look at the statistics, you see that Manchester City's away form has been a direct contrast to their unbeaten record at the City of Manchester stadium. If Manchester City won at least half of the drawn games they drew, they would be within striking distance of Chelsea or even be sitting at the top of the table. This is a relatively conservative assumption. Who knows what will the title race look like if Manchester City has gotten a better lot? Manchester City is underachieving and 'credit' must definitely go to Mark Hughes.

So, this is my take on Mark Hughes. I am awfully glad that rumours of Mark Hughes as Alex Furguson's successor has died down because the Red Devils do not deserve someone of such questionable calibre. Roberto Mancini at the helm presents a refreshing challenge for the teams in the EPL, though his accolades do not seem all that flattering. Whether Mancini will bring Manchester City to greater heights or fall short of the targets he set for himself, only time will tell. However, there seems to be a slight intimation of the future with their names. Man-city and Mancini. A match made in heaven, perhaps?

Men Versus Boys

2009-12-19T15:55:00.002+08:00

Arsenal Review

I have been wanting to do this review for so long but did not really have the time. Arsenal has just played Liverpool and Chelsea in their previous two matches and I must say these two matches were a true test of their mettle. Arsenal came out of these ordeals with a, I would say, pretty average record - one win and one loss. Why do I say pretty average? A 2-1 victory over one of the most, if not the most, illustrious English club surely warrants much more recognition?

If the victory came in the 1980s, I would undoubtedly salute Arsenal for their accomplishment. However, the win over Liverpool was, no offence to Liverpool fans, as a matter of fact, an expected outcome. Arsenal are vying for top spot while Liverpool's ambitions are a relatively humble top-four finish. 'Illustrious' is somewhat of a misnomer for the Liverpool of today. Therefore, how can you even compliment Arsenal, a title contender, for defeating Liverpool, a disillusioned team which draws so much that it might as well be an artist? It is absolutely needless to be gushing about how Arsenal displayed 'steely determination' to stage the comeback or what-nots because it is total bollocks. Arsenal did not become better out of the blue after Wenger lost his cool. It was simply Liverpool self-destructing.

Then it was the harrowing rout by Chelsea. The 3-0 scoreline might have suggested an overpowering Chelsea side but it was not the case. The result, in my opinion, boils down to football IQ. I do not know if everyone is familiar with this term but if you play some sort of team sport that requires moving a ball around, I surmise that you would have a pretty rough idea of what this means. Arsenal have been dubbed the Barcelona of the BPL and the hallmark of elan football, if I were to illustrate Arsenal's playing style in Wenger's tongue. On the other hand, they have been under fire for their inexperience and resilience, often losing out to physically stronger, albeit lesser, opponents. Well, it is time I put an end to the lies, once and for all. Arsenal diehards, brace yourselves for this.

Arsenal do not - I repeat - DO NOT play attractive football. Period. Full stop. Plus another full stop, even if it flouts any rule of grammar.

I will give the Arsenal diehards a few seconds to compose themselves before I continue.

Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...Okay, ready?

Despite having a techically gifted side, Arsenal's attractive football, so to speak, disintegrates against a far intelligent Chelsea. If anyone were to point the finger at the beefy physique of Chelsea players, then what about Barcelona? Are you telling me that Barcelona won the Champions League in 2009 playing against softer sides? And that Messi, Iniesta and Xavi did not have to wrestle with bigger opponents? I must give credit to Carlos Ancelotti for devising an ingenious tactic. He smartly played the 4-4-2 diamond to congest the centre of the park and baited Arsenal to cross the ball. Arsenal did, and they obediently and naively did. Not only on one occasion but on several occasions. They were like a gullible fish lured by the tingling appendage of a snapping turtle. Arsenal were devoured by Chelsea's vice-like jaw before they even knew it. Arsenal had long periods of possession but only mustered a shot at goal in the 88th minute. Conversely, Chelsea had probably five chances at goal and they scored three. Funny is not it? Well, 'funny' is just a euphemism for 'stupid'. Arsenal was positvely found wanting in the creativity and intelligence department. Their football in that match was so frustrating it made me wonder if Arsenal's so-called one-touch passing is perfected through military drilling. Self-expression or flexibility is strictly prohibited. Every Gunner has to adhere to the routine like an automaton. It looks beautiful on the outside but mechanical on the inside. To sum it up, stop all the 'Arsenal is tecnically gifted but lack the robustness' mantra, please. It is like fitting a square peg into a round hole. Arsenal is NOT Barcelona. Not even close.

On a side track, the reason why I have procrastinated for so long on blogging is a lack of time, or energy, to be more precise. If you do not know, I am presently a proud employee of Amtek Precision Technology, which manufactures computers, laptops, servers etcetera for Hewlett-Packard. Hewlett-Packard is the leading PC maker for your information. Not that ailing Steve Job's Apple Inc.. Inadvertently, I am also learning how to assemble my own PC. I would say this is a job that can make technophiles (e.g. Leh Chuan) go so green with envy they can be the back-up actor for the Incredible Hulk. And it is not all that difficult assembling a PC, so stop doubting Jeffrey's competency in PC construction, Leh Chuan.

On a side side track, to satisfy the addiction to visual stimulation of those mortals, I uploaded a picture.

Tad-dah!

Yes. I have gotten a new iPod Nano Fifth Generation. Cool huh? Actually, I did not really ask for it. However, through the goodwill of my sister (and my sister's company), I am in possession of the most sought-after teen gadget (Sorry, indulgent effect over here) . I am aware that Leh Chuan has been surviving on one roti prata a week in order to buy an iPod and I just conjured it out of nowwhere. Life is full of (bitter) ironies, innit? I got the dream job and the dream Christmas gift. What more can I ask for?

Last thing, I read one of your previous posts and noticed that you wrote 'don't slog it out like me'. The knee-jerk reaction I have to that is, 'Are you trying to be some stand-up comedian? Do you think you're Russel Peters?' Selling Wrigley's chewing gum and Appollo tidbits are in no conceivable way drudgery. Do you know how many computer chassis I have to carry everyday? At least 600! So stop all that sissy talk, Leh Chuan.

Last last thing, my holiday job pays me $8.25 an hour on Saturdays and $11 on Sundays. Thus, Yu Cheng, I have two words for you. Just two words. PWNED YOU! MERVYN CHIA ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ALL PROPIETARY RIGHTS OF 'JUST TWO WORDS', 'I HAVE TWO WORDS FOR YOU' AND 'SUCK IT' BELONG TO MERVYN CHIA. ANY USAGE UNAUTHORISED BY MERVYN CHIA IS LIABLE TO LEGAL ACTION.

2009-09-20T20:03:00.004+08:00

After such a lengthy hiatus, I finally can spare some time for blogging. This is a deserved repose, for I had to endure gruelling examinations for the past few weeks. Currently, I am only left with the MCQs to complete. YEAH! However, to say that the respite is deserved is to be mendacious. Frankly, I have been surfing the Internet and watching Youtube videos instead of studying with the appropriate assiduity. If I were to perform below expectations, it would verily be my desserts.

Despite this being something that I should feel guilty about, I actually feel that the time spent was worthwhile. By happenstance, I came upon few of the the videos of the TV programme Live from Abbey Road on Youtube. I remember this programme being aired on the now-defunct Arts Central some time back. Due to its nocturnal timing, I could not catch it.

Abbey Road Studio, having the luxury of housing many legendary bands like the Beatles, Oasis and Muse, is the venue of this programme. To match the larger-than-life predecessors that have graced the Studio, only the best musicians are chosen for the programme. True enough, I was not disappointed. In fact, I was particularly impressed by one group. Lisa Hannigan and Damien Rice.

They both had played and sang in the same band once before but due to some reason each went their own ways. They are a great pair together. Rice's vocals has that rough edge that is oozing with emotion and really tugs at your heartstrings while Hannigan's voice is soothing yet has a subtle poignancy. I would say they both complement each other really well.

Anyway, a picture says a thousand words. What is more a video ( which is a moving picture). Embedded below are in order - Rootless Tree, 9 crimes and Blower's Daughter. Enjoy.

Blog on Vacation

2009-09-11T13:30:00.000+08:00

Hi,

Important examinations coming up, so there will be no posts for some time.

Anyway, it is not as if anybody cares. This blog is not that popular. I post this to tell myself my liking for blogging is not yet dead.

David Blaine Street Magic is back!

2009-07-02T17:35:00.002+08:00

Great news everyone! The infamous David Blaine is back with a new bag of tricks. Here is the trailer. It does not show the exact date but it does state that the video is ready some time in July. Look out for it!

Guantanamo Bay

2009-07-02T16:50:00.005+08:00

Before Barack Obama became the President of U.S.A, I had been ignorant of the atrocities that occured at Gitmo. The detainees were subjected to the most inhumane and sordid coercion techniques I have ever seen. They were abashed, degraded and ridiculed again and again and again. The kind of physical and psychological damage inflicted upon them were inconceivable. To legitimise even more demeaning punishments, the U.S government asserted that the detainees were not entitled to any protection from the Geneva Conventions. Is not this a repeat of the Jaapanese Occupation's savagery? The horrors of Gitmo is indescribably wicked but the U.S government actually considered it a necessary evil. Honestly, I believe that Geroge Bush and the prison wardens at Gitmo are sociopaths and to illustrate my point, I have uploaded two videos.

Torture at Guantanamo Bay - part 2

Torture at Guantanamo Bay - part 3

The videos leave you gaping in consternation, don't they? I am confident what is more shocking are the stark parallels of these videos and those Uniformed Group's trainings.

MJ Lives On

2009-07-02T14:08:00.003+08:00

I was appalled when I heard the news of his death. The King of Pop, Michael Jackoff, I mean Michael Jackson, left the world at the tender age of 50. No offence to the dead but Michael Jackson was always in the spotlight, either for his quirky misdemeanors (related to children) or his outlandish private life.

We can deride him all we want about the misery he has caused but is that really what we wish to remember? Without dispute, he is the best entertainer hands down. His revolutionary moonwalk spanned generations. No one could pull off those slick dance moves with such flair and aplomb. He was the idol of legions. He was incontrovertibly the Big Bang of the Pop genre.

Yet, as affectionate as we are towards him, we could not deter the fall of a great star. Apocryphal stories of anti-aging hyperbaric chambers, botched nose jobs, sexual harassments etc. started mushrooming. Monikers like Wacko Jack and Sicko Jacko became stuck in people's head.

However, could we blame him for all he had done? The answer is no. A childhood that had been ridden with abuse and violence culminated in the contorted soul he was. He felt that he was an anomaly, a freak. That was why he kept mum about his skin condition in order to prolong his dreams. Never did he expect it to backfire. Soon, one lie led to another and his career was teetering on the brink of implosion. Surely, we ought to emphathise with this heart-wrenching life story.

The bottom line is no matter how lamentable his misdeeds were, we should only recognize this master performer for his overflowing talent and larger-than-life stage presence. Music was his raison d'etre. His fortitude displayed in the battle with his own demons was worthy of a Victoria Cross. To adapt a NCC lingo, the King of Pop had, with utmost regret, POP-ed.

This is a video of Smooth Criminal, both as a tribute and reminiscence of this cherry blossom.

R.I.P

Moonwalker

Tennis and I

2009-07-02T11:40:00.004+08:00

Long ago, probably when dinosaurs were still extant, I categorized tennis under the same heading as golf. I always feel that sports and games are two discrete areas. They do not overlap. The main thing that separates these two is the former involves vigorous physical activity and a certain level of dexterity; the latter involves chiefly consummate skill and a phlegmatic analysis of the determining factors that decide the outcome of the game.

During the June holidays of yesteryears, when it was especially tempting to be a couch potato, I often sprawled languidly on my sofa and watched hours and hours of TV. I particularly loathed the sports channels for broadcasting tennis and golf. Those two games were like even more soporific than any sleeping pills. I was thinking, 'Who the hell watches this shit?!'However, I realized that cable TV has to be more inclusive and cater to those weirdos out there. Haplessly, I cursed the EPL for ending in May.

Being an avid reader of the sports section in the newspaper, I inadvertently noticed one name that had been appearing with increasing regularity. That name was Roger Federer. It was him again, clinching some US Open or Australia Open that I could not be bothered with. The newspapers branded him as disputably the best the tennis world had ever produced. Even though I dreaded the insuperable task of watching a tennis game, I wanted to see who had the capability to generate such hoohah.

Gruelling it was for a greenhorn like me but I endured. Removing the jaundiced shades I sported, I could not help but marvel at the sheer class the players exuded. I exalted the way they yielded the racquet to produce mellifluous notes of a virtuoso. The music crescendoed to a shattering climax as Federer smashed a winner that just shaved off the sideline. The crowd gasped in fascination; then involuntarily applauded for the witnessing of a legend in the making. I was feeling quite the same way too and to summarize this cathartic experience in three words: I was hooked.

I am sincerely grateful for this happenstance that whichever divine entity blessed me with, if not I would never have known that tennis unequivocally belonged to the sports category.

This June, like any other Junes, is a period of indolence for me, except for one nuance.

I will be watching the Wimbledon.

Ronaldo for Real?

2009-07-01T19:05:00.006+08:00

Is Ronaldo for Real for real? This question was lingering in the news about three weeks ago and now I, with much time to spare, can finally express my views about it.

It is only Real Madrid that have the wealth, the status and the audacity to break two transfer records in a week. The simply staggering amounts of money involved in these transfers are easily more obscene than any hardcore pornos Chek Wei has stashed away in his hard drive. To accentuate their exorbitance further, Real Madrid have offered Ronaldo with an irresistable pay package, which increases his salary to a whopping 600 000 euros a week. Talk about a global economic recession! I think anyone with that sort of money should be ridden with guilt, so much so that he has recurring nightmares of malnourished children feasting on his flesh.

There are all the hype and commotion that circle the transfers, but the essential enigmas are whether Real Madrid can vindicate their ATM-in-disguise kind of spending and how is Manchester United going to find someone who can fill the shoes of Cristiano Ronaldo?

The first question is rather straightforward because there is no dearth of paragons that display the evils of big-money signings. One example I limpidly remembered was Leeds United, which had some windfall in the mould of a opulent investor, splurging their riches on the likes of Mark Viduka and Harry Kewell. However, their achievements could not match their ambitions and the following season, they were unceremoniously relegated to the lower division. Until now, Leeds United still find themselves stuck in the mire with massive debts to clear and struggle to avoid the drop. In spite of this resounding example, Real Madrid are a totally different class from these one-off teams because they are a team with an illustrious history. On the contrary, it is under the Galaticos structure when Real Madrid thrived. The only serious concern is Ronaldo's petulance and arrogance could turn out to be an insidious threat to the solidarity of the team.

The second question is a tad more tricky. Ronaldo had been a sensation since his arrival from Sporting Lisbon. He might be perceived as a brash upstart who was all show and tricks but never an effectual player. However, Ferguson knew only too well. He knew he was in possession of a priceless but unpolished jewel. Under the fastidious nurturing of Ferguson, Ronaldo blossomed into a world-class athlete, banging in over 40 goals in the previous season. Although the wunderkid may seem indispensable and buffet the very keystones of United's edifice with his departure, the deal actually, upon closer scrutiny, benefits United.

Ronaldo's performance in the season that recently concluded was truth be told, quite forgettable. Those days where Ronaldo toyed defenders with his panolpy of dazzling footwork were overshadowed by his snobbish behaviour and impetous acts of vengeance. His constant pouts and shaking-head-in-disbeliefs were detrimental to United's conquests, evident from the Champion's League Finals. Moreover, players (e.g. David Beckham) that Ferguson allows to leave usually come to no happy ending.

Therefore, the zippy Ron Runner might have evaded the fork and knife of wily, old Fergoyote, but with the cash in return, Fergoyote could order 20 succulent turkeys to eat 'till his heart's content!

Let's look forward to the day we see Ronaldo plying his trade in LA Galaxy!

Lakers are the World Champions!

2009-06-02T12:59:00.007+08:00

LA Lakers have reinstated their dominance in arguably the world's toughest basketball league by trampling on the Orlando Magic with a 4-1 win in a best-of-seven series. The last time Lakers were the team to beat was during the 03-04 season where they completed a hat-trick of NBA bling bling. The dynamic duo of Shaq and Kobe encompassed the ironic beauty of finesse and brute strength. They packed a one-two punch so powerful that opponents could hardly withstand, let alone contain. Then, there was the master motivator Phil Jackson, who had all the wisdom to blend the two conflicting styles and maximise the potential of the team. Unfortunately, the ball-hogger in Kobe took everything asunder. Shaq and Phil could no longer tolerate Kobe doing everything himself. Kobe was too self-absorbed in his monologue. It was impossible for them to colllaborate with someone who did not quite comprehend the concept of TEAM.

A dry spell that lasted four years led to a frustrated Kobe who was on the brink of leaving the Lakers. The management doggedly pleaded with Kobe to stay on. And stay on he did, with one condition. Bring back Phil Jackson and complement him with players of title-contending calibre. The Lakers were not a team to renege on their agreement, especially with the superstar Kobe at stake. They acquired former compatriot and veteran point guard, Derek Fisher and all-rounded Pau Gasol. With a solid bench, viz. Trevor Ariza, Andrew Bynum, Lamar Odom etcetera, Lakers looked to wrestle the crown from the Celtics.

With the best win-loss record in regular season and a flattering route to the finals, mostly against teams heavily depleted by injury woes, the Lakers were the hot favourites to win this finals. They sure lived up to expectations by vanquishing the fledgling Orlando Magic in a rather impressive 5 games.

Right after the denouement of the NBA season, the media was quick to heap praises on how Kobe has "matured" and become an "inspiring leader" to his teammates though statistic said otherwise.

However, the immutable truth is Kobe could not have done it without the composure of Derek Fisher, the inside presence of Pau Gasol, the relentless defence of Trevor Ariza and the versatility of Lamar Odom. Michael Jordan could not have done it without Pippen and what makes this supposed closest-thing-to-Jordan exclusive from the basic principles of a team.

It is undeniable that Kobe is right up there amongst the greats and has his name embossed in the list of Hall-of-Famers. However, regardless of your ability (and this applies to anything outside basketball), you should always love your pals and treat them as equals because two or more are always better than one and without them, you are nothing.

2009-06-02T09:57:00.002+08:00

This paragraph is dedicated to Leh Chuan and Rui Jie. I am sorry for venting my frustrations on you after the game. I know that those inane remarks would not make a difference. It was just a release of emotions. Anyway, I am in no position to criticize anyone because I am not superior in any way. I am grateful to you for bearing with my annoying complains. Like Leh Chuan said, 'It's only a game.'My competitive nature has gotten the better of me. Hence, I shall strive to change this weakness of mine out of the thousand and one other weaknesses I possess. Do give me time. I am only human.

2009-06-01T23:50:00.003+08:00

Recently, I took the Prelim 2 Chinese Paper 1 and 2. I felt the passages in the 阅读理解 and 理解测验 are really inspiring and insightful. One lesson I learnt from both the Chinese Paper and the programme 生活达人 is that God bestows talent upon all of us. It is up to us to discover our aptitude for something and capitalise on it so that the the world can benefit.

Champions League Final

2009-06-01T23:49:00.003+08:00

A long overdue post-match review. The battle for the crown of Europe. A David and Goliath classic. Barcelona, which went into the game with a ravaged defence, seems befitting of the persona David. Meanwhile, Manchester United, the defending European champions, looks every part a Goliath. In terms of physique, Messi, Iniesta and Xavi are all in the mould of the bantam King of Israel. Conversely, Ferdinand and Vidic are intimidating giants at the heart of Manchester United's defence. On paper, it would seem that the European throne was Manchester United's to lose. However, the final told a very different story.

Initially, the signs seemed to point in Manchester United's favour. Ronaldo threatened with a thunderous freekick from 30 metres and another half-volley steering wide off the far post. Then, a goal came from out of the blue in the 10th minute. Iniesta teleported across Manchester United's midfield like a spaceship powered by anti-matter. He released Eto'o, who got Vidic on his knees with a facile cut back. To add salt to the wound, Van der Sar was beaten by a soft finish at his near post. After nabbing the early goal, Barcelona proceeded with Plan B: Keep possession and waste every second you can. Barcelona began to take their time with throw-ins and goal-kicks. Puyol rolled from one end of the pitch to the other end in agony at the slightest of touches. Messi was moved into midfield to further deprive Manchester United of the ball. The English titans were largely insignificant for the first half of the match.

After a predictable hairdryer treatment by Ferguson during the break, Manchester United seemed revitalized and raring to go. They started the second half with much more attacking intent and tested the nerves of Barcelona's shaky defenders.

It all bode well until the joke of the day. Xavi flighted the ball from the right on to the path of Messi. He headed the ball into goal with a tremendous leap. Ferdinand was staring with disbelief. He watched the Hobbit celebrating his goal and thought that his eyes must be playing tricks on him. 2-0 was the scoreline and United knew they were out of the equation. Indeed, Barcelona finished the game with aplomb as United hardly troubled Barcelona at all.

Many would have chided Ferguson for his sentimentality or Ronaldo for his individualism. Nevertheless, in my opinion, the final was simply lost in midfield.

Has anyone expected an outcome other than the one in the biblical story?

2009-05-27T18:25:00.008+08:00

As the saying goes,'Once bitten, twice shy.'Despite the adage, Glennson, the self-proclaimed ex-convict, does not seem apprehensive about breaking the law AGAIN. Wow! How brazen! He must have eight testicles, akin to Doctor Octopus's eight mechanical tentacles. The only serious repercussion is he, like Doctor Octopus, has no control over his excessive testosterone.

That was why on a particularly ordinary day, Glennson, who perpetually had rudimentary questions for Mr Gayang, seized the golden opportunity when it came. A peitite and voluptuous Ms Coo tingled the raging hormones in Glennson's eight testicles. The testicles sent a seismic shockwave, which would have recorded 10.0 on the Ritcher scale, to his brain and he involuntarily took a swipe at her humongous breasts. I heard the acidic accusations when I was about to go into the staff room. 'Glennson, you pervert! I'm going to sue you!' shrieked Ms Coo with a finger pointed at Glennson. He reacted promptly by apologising with utmost alacrity to Ms Coo although we know how hypocritical he is. With a brain relatively puny to her breasts, Ms Coo managed to distinguish Glennson's real intentions and insisted on taking legal action. Glennson, who had been to the police post before, had no qualms about sitting behind bars. However, getting incarcerated simply because he touched her abdominals was not worthwhile. Glennson was at his wit's ends.

Fortunately, Ms Coo was kind enough and offered him a way out. 'I will let you off, only if you allow me to taste your pineapple head that is as juicy as my squishy boobs,' she said. Glennson shouted 'Yes' o.oooooooooooooooooooooo1 seconds after Ms Coo finished her sentence. Glennson heaved a sigh of relief albeit missing a huge chunk of his cranium

In retrospect, Glennson concluded that it was a chance spurned rather than a grope earned. He was full of self-reproach for not targeting a slightly higher region. Resigned to his fate, he trudged home in solitude. His grey silhouette and preposterous belfry were a solemn yet silly sight to behold. Wails of 'Weeeellll!' could be heard resonating across the empty roads.

Cheer up Glennson. You'll get it the next time!

2009-05-25T23:37:00.002+08:00

While watching 长江7号 (CJ7), I noticed a pet sermon of Stephen Chow. The paragraph that was repeated was something like this: 我们虽然穷，但是只要不吹牛，不打架，不属于自己的东西不要拿，努力读书，不管到哪里都会被人尊重。These words may sound familiar to some of us. You may have heard them from your parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts etc. However, how many of us actually live by these principles? These may seem elementary to any human being that has existed for a significant amount of time, but you know that you will still break these rules no matter if you are a energetic youth or a middle-aged family man or some century-old artifact. You need not be a philosopher like Plato, Aristotle or Socrates to figure these out.

Let me put a challenge to all of you: Try living a week abiding by these simple rules. I guarantee that you will definitely feel respected. You may not feel respected by anyone else but at the very least, there is one person that respects you: YOU.

2009-05-10T00:45:00.004+08:00

For all those who are still befuddled by my previous post, I would take this opportunity to clear the air. The previous post is simply for illustration purposes and somewhat of a prologue to the topic today. After the clarifications, I shall now cut to the crux of today's blog post.

Strife, conflict and attrition has always been perennial throughout history. Ostensibly, it is the aggression inherent in humans that leads to all these. After the innumerable conquests of Alexander the Great from the days of yore, the Great War, the Cold War and the ongoing war on terrorism, human beings, ironically, abhor the notion of another war. Unfortunately, pursuant to Murphy's Law, another war is inevitable. In an epoch of seamless connectivity, the quintessential war has been redefined. It has taken on a different platform: the Internet. Yes, many of you may have guessed it. The war I am insinuating is none other than the Blog War.

From time immemorial, the first instance of provocation was from a certain (probably North) Korean who was derided for his immature behaviour. Being a typical (North) Korean, he just could not take it lying down. He decided to come up wtih his own witty rhetoric, which was somewhere along the lines of lying through your teeth or fucking through your teeth or both at the same time. After that, there was another similar case of a Chinese immigrant being vituperated for his wet uniform fetish. Of course, there were memorable quotes from this ruckus too, such as Pee on the ground and look at your own reflection. You will see your mum waking you up for fun and teaching you how to spell the word 'theirs'.

Stated above are merely the appetisers as more rivalries ensue in time to come. From the vantage point of an outsider, the war seems to be escalating and it is only wise to not bother myself with any sort of diplomatic intervention. Someone, a Malaysian in fact, attempted to meddle in their affairs and got silenced partly due to his nosiness and mainly due to his nationality. Therefore, the matter is best resolved at the involved parties' own discretion.

To conclude, I would like to end this post with a quote,' Fighting is for kids.'. PEACE.

2009-05-09T23:44:00.003+08:00

Have you ever seen a volcano erupt in Singapore? If you have not, you can see it happen at my home today.

It is not once, not twice or even thrice. It is the countless times tantrums are thrown over infinitesimal and inconsequential matters. The root causes of all these? A strong sense of sanctimony. The belief that one is impossible to err, one is as infallible as the Pope. The perceived nobility and sacrifice for the greater whole. That intrinsic air of obstinate conceitednesss. I am sick and tired of all these.

Today, the incident sparked off my outrage.

Again, a catastrophe initiated by the megalomania in oneself. An impetous rebuttal for the sake of infantile spite. However, what was irrevocably wrong was the frivolous treatment of my life. That, I could not forget. I might forgive but I would not forget. The irresponsible act has etched an indelible scar on my memory.

Do not worry. You will be greeted with my innocuous facade, smartly concealing my hideous, vengeful spirit. Feigned normalcy will return swiftly and the incident will seem surreal, as if all was a dream. However, this is not the first and I guarantee will not be the last. The vicious cycle of reprisal will continue, and only perpetuate at a faster rate until irreversible damgage is done maybe. And only maybe. How devastating the consequences I dare not anticipate. However, there is one aim I am sure of.

What you did to me, I will make you pay for it. Someday.

Someday could be any day, so be prepared. Be very prepared.

2009-05-07T22:30:00.006+08:00

Screwed chem SPA today. A matter of paramount importance. Therefore, I am going to mark this day by breaking a precedent. Something of such significance calls for a dramatic entrance.

Crescendo of drums......

......Silence

"FUCK."

Fireworks illuminate the night sky. Can you see them? The hymen of the taboo word has been torn completely. This is one historic moment. Ardent fans of my blog. Covet this moment in time, because you may not get another opportunity to witness an event of such epic proportions. Also, for another more mundane reason.

My demise is imminent.

If you see an article about a student who ends his life after doing badly for his chem SPA, need not think further.

It's me.

2009-04-23T19:01:00.004+08:00

Today, I am going to share three interesting pieces of news I have read from the newspapers.

First, North Koreans finally have their first sight of pizza after waiting for 10 long years. Last December, fat ass Kim just authorized the establishment of a pizzeria. A defector of North Korea has revealed that fat ass Kim is a food connoisseur. He has sent him on missions to find caviar from the Middle East, bacon from Denmark and melon from China. Hence, it came as no surprise when fat ass Kim assigned officers to Italy to perfect the painstaking art of al dante. The impoverished and famished North Koreans can now rejoice because they finally know how a pizza looks and tastes like. That is if they have the energy to reach the pizzeria first, of course.

Second, studies from Britain are saying that food-friendly people are environmentally-unfriendly. The carbon footprints left behind by these four-season snowmen are even more enormous than Bigfoot's. The obscene amounts of meat they consume results in the burgeoning production of cattle and this culminates in deep shit, both figuratively and literally. As we all know, manure emits methane gas which hastens global warming. So, Blubber Ongs alert! It is time for you to shed some glycerols to fit into those Billabong shorts!

Third, the aptly named brothel, The Pussy Club in Berlin is having a promotion that is not unlike the Great Singapore Sale to shopaholics. Lotharios out there, brace yourselves for this. The Pussy Club is offering unlimited, interminable, unbridled S-E-X for a mere $137! Yes, Chek Wei, I can see you already on the plane to Germany. Well, of course that is besides the point (If you believe me, you might as well exchange your testes with Shan Quan). The subtle but crucial implication is how serious the financial tsunami has hit us. When the profession that started since the cows came home stoops to discounts and promotions, it certainly sounds the siren for those who still believe that banks are as imperturbable and erect as priapic organs.

Basketball

2009-04-17T19:01:00.003+08:00

News hot off the court, my beloved team has been ousted after a disappointing performance at the Nationals. They have been a ghost of their former selves in the recent few matches, scraping past teams and even getting totally outclasssed by a astronomical (yes, it is that severe in our context) number of points. The inclement and ultimate blow came today when NT beat PH to play us out. I felt a tinge of sadness come over me for a split second but did not experience the vicarious grief of a legacy's demise. Anyway, I take tremendous pride of being once part of a legend, albeit a diminutive part. To my teammates, please do not dwell on the defeat. Instead, focus on the illuminated path ahead.

Fortunately, I can seek solace in reading Jeffrey Archer's Not A Penny More, Not A Penny Less while munching on marshmallows dipped in milk chocolate, bee honey and sugar icing.

2009-04-17T18:55:00.003+08:00

After watching the Campus Superstar Finals on Sunday, I felt really inspired to participate in the CHMA. However, my desire has been treated with condescending remarks from my peers. It is okay. I am a person who rises to the occasion. I will go for it without regrets. If I did not get into the finals, I will tell myself that at least I tried.

2009-04-17T18:51:00.003+08:00

By the way, Macheda helped United claim victory against minnows Sunderland last week with a timely deflection. He was simply in the right place, at the right time to score the goal. Macheda is slowly but surely morphing himself into United's talismanic super sub, reminiscent of Solskjaer.

UCL QF Second Leg

2009-04-17T17:08:00.003+08:00

Remember the last time I mentioned about football's unpredictability? It looks like my powers of clairvoyance has been very accurate. Chelsea versus Liverpool. A match which seems superfluous as Liverpool will face an insurmountable task of overturning the 3-1 deficit, proved otherwise. The match ended in a enthralling 4-4 draw. It was one hell of a rollercoaster ride for fans from both sides. They endured the entire gamut of feelings from joy to despair. However, Lady Luck was not on Liverpool's side, or rather Reina was not on Liverpool's side and Chelsea prevailed.

Meanwhile, Manchester United scored a historic 1-0 win over Porto away from home. They were greatly boosted by the return of defensive stalwart Ferdinand, which eventually did play a crucial role in containing Porto. Manchester United came on the pitch with a great start. A 35-yard screamer from Ronaldo gave them the lead in the 6 minute. Porto was flabbergasted by the wonder strike. They tried to respond but was stymied by the stifling defence of United. For most parts of the game, Porto were anonymous and United held on for the win.

After 6 games of convalescence, Manchester United are in the pink of health. Their defence is now as solid as Chek Wei's penis (I don't owe you anymore) and their road to the quintuple seems bright again. They will face Arsenal in the penultimate stage of the UCL.

2009-04-09T21:54:00.002+08:00

Football. Ever so unpredictable. Ever so erratic. These comments were indeed proven right after the wild mid-week UCL QF. Manchester United were held to 2-2 draw by Porto on Wednesday morning. I was stunned by the harrowing result. It felt surreal but yet I knew that the harsh reality was staring at me. Manchester United's defence had turned from as tight as skinny jeans to as leaky as Chek Wei's penis. Formerly revered as the impregnable fortress, they are now a far cry from their former selves, letting in 10 goals in the last 4 games. Morale is certainly at an absolute low at Manchester United. However, I will not dwell on this loss. They just have to pick themselves up again and get ready for their next battle.

Manchester United will have to win to advance. Anything less than a win will culminate in a premature exit for Manchester United. This is indeed a massive dent in United's quest for a quintuplet but my faith is unyielding. If fans could still remember the miraculous comebacks in Manchester United's historic treble-winning season, like the victories over Bayern and Juventus in the UCL and the Ryan Giggs solo goal against Arsenal in the FA cup semi-final, then you know Manchester United at their zenith is unstoppable. Comebacks are their forte. A win at Porto may require a Herculean effort from Manchester United but it is defnitely not mission impossible.

And like I said, 'Football. Ever so unpredictable. Ever so erratic'

And maybe Bayern Munich will thrash Barcelona 5-0 at Allianz Arena? Just maybe. You never know.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MERVYN!!!

2009-04-09T21:29:00.002+08:00

Today is Mervyn's birthday. He has been a close friend of mine for about three years or so I guess. He is rather introverted but can be really intelligent with his jokes at times. I think he is quite similar in character with Leh Chuan and me because the three of us are like usually anti-social in public areas but really open amongst our close friends. It is kind of like a Jekyll and Hyde thing. Anyway, that is just my opinion. I would not say I know him very well. I mean even best friends keep secrets from each other.

To the main point, I am glad to have a friend like you and I wish you all the best. I remember all the super lame jokes we shared (i.e the Prison Break storyline) and of course all the after school football games. Frankly, I see you as one of the best players in the school. I sincerely believe you can get that 6A1s. You just have to have more confidence in yourself and belief -- believe that you can achieve whatever you want as long as you set your mind to it. Lastly, I hope that we can be friends for years to come. Happy birthday Mervyn!!

2009-04-07T18:30:00.004+08:00

Hi everyone! I have uploaded songs and videos on my blog and will continue to do so. Do check it out. I hope my uploads will not bore you. I apologise if they do. I just upload whatever I feel is interesting and hope you like it. Do not worry, I will not impose on your ears and activate the autoplay function(although its because I do not know how to activate it). Anyway, talking about this, I am rather confused about my music idiosyncracies. I feel like some caveman whenever I compare the songs I listen to with the songs my peers listen to. Hence, feel free to tag your comments on the songs I listen to and probably help to decipher what is the general trend of my music.

The first video I am uploading is about the long forgotten group 梦飞船. I personally admire the group's talents but am unable to comprehend why they did not become popular. This video is one of the rare remnants of their performances. The last song 不值得 is really 强, sung mainly by the Superstar judge,林祺玉.

Also,the song uploaded is a mandarin song by one of my fave singers 林志炫. Many people from my age group have not heard about him. He is like one of the legendary singers in Taiwan. He is venerated for his wide range and mixed voice. This means his transition from real voice to falsetto is seamless and in fact, his falsetto sounds like his real voice. In the near future, I will still stick to his theme so do not expect songs from other singers yet. The song I have uploaded is 时机. The song has a carefree atmosphere, if words could describe it.

Manchester United's Blackjack

2009-04-07T18:20:00.000+08:00

What an exhilarating match!Manchester United beat Aston Villa 3-2!This is certainly one of the defining moments for Manchester United in this season.They come up with a great comeback win after falling behind 2-1 in 50+ minutes.

Manchester United had not been themselves lately with two successive defeats at the hands of Liverpool and Fulham. After their dismal first-half performance, in which G Neville was unable to cope with Carew's physical presence and Ashley Young was rampant down the flanks, I thought that maybe they should just focus on the Champions League and FA cup ties. However, Ronaldo, who did not do much during the game and even indirectly caused the conceding of Aston Villa's second goal, scored a decisive equaliser in the 80 minute with a low and rightly placed shot. Then Welback came on late in the game to partner the substitute Macheda in attack and United started to regain their belief again. Fletcher and Ronaldo shaved the posts in the dying moments of normal time. Welback even had a one-to-one opportunity but he was denied by the safe hands of Brad Friedel. I was on my edge of my seat. My thoughts precariously balanced on whether Manchester United would come up with a stoppage time winner or dash my hopes by ending the match in a stalemate. Then came the euphoric moment. Macheda, the 17 year-old unknown, demanded the ball from Giggs whilst wrestling for space in the penalty area. Upon receiving the pass, a deft touch from behind his legs created just enough space for him to turn and curl the ball past the desparing hands of Friedel and into goal. At that instant, all the pent up emotions exploded inside me. I just ran around the house celebrating hysterically and then lie flat on the floor. At the same time, I felt a huge stone off my chest. Manchester United had won.

The goal came from the most unlikeliest of sources,but it was not to be discredited. Macheda showed precocious composure and instinct to score the winner. Ferguson took a gamble and it paid off. All gamblers would probably refuse to leave the table right after they got a blackjack because they believe they are on a winning streak.

This win would be Manchester United's blackjack and I am sure they may just well be on their winning streak.

2009-04-04T12:37:00.003+08:00

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