You think
I don’t know
I swear
That I do
This time
On my hands
I’ve had all this time

And I got a kick out of you
Now I’m falling down
And I’m feeling sick, how ’bout you
Oh I’m falling

But you seem
Out of sorts
But I know
We’ll be fine
These chances
We take
Time wastes
So much time

But I can’t stand up anymore
Without falling down
And I’m getting used to the floor
Forever falling
And I got a kick out of you
Now I’m falling down
And I’m feeling sick, how ’bout you
Oh I’m falling
Yeah I’m falling

either I’ll smash your teeth and ribs,

or you’ll have to kill me.

This photo is about how bad the noodles were and how happy I was today. Thanks to you :)

I am certainly not one who digs into ‘Hari Raya songs’ (there is one by a girl group called ‘Lips’ whose lyrics and video are completely bimbotic), but I like this song because of the diction in it.

It came from a time when people still said ‘takber’ instead of ‘takbir’, ’suboh’ instead of ’subuh’, ‘bawak’ instead of ‘bawa’, ‘hamper’ instead of ‘hampir’, and they felt it was all natural, and right. (Of course, until the snobbish ‘Melayu Baku’ people came along and defiled the language.) And I love songs where the vocals and lyrics take centre stage, because that seems to be the most worthy purpose of music. Simple song, no chorus repeats, just pure song.

But there was another reason for the significance of this song.

I had it on repeat mode on the night of 1st Syawal, and at 4 am that night, a biologically distant grandmother of mine who lived in the same block passed away. It was the first time for me that someone close enough passed away on 1st Syawal, so the day took a really different course from the usual.

A song about missing one’s parents, it was almost fateful, especially when I went to the pusara that very morning.

It’s crazy, and I think Straits Times shouldn’t go on to publish it online, to do justice to her. Sometimes, such people don’t know that what they are doing can be quite embarassing, and if I were in such a position as Ms Low’s, I would be excessively grateful if someone came towards my help and tell me about it honestly, and protect me from embarassment. But it’s too late now.

Not surprisingly, not many have gone on to question the greater issue: the existence of beauty pageants.

Beauty pageants should be banished once and for all. Miss Singapore, Miss World, Grid Girls, America’s Next Top Model—all of them. Because beauty is absolutely (I say again, absolutely) not something to be flaunted in public, or much worse, contested in the eyes of the public. Women need to learn the proper use of their inward and outward beauty, just as men should learn where to direct their strength and violence.

-

P.S.: While a part of me is sympathetic towards Ms Low, I think she ought to face the music too. She shouldn’t have wasted her time engaging in such trifles, and it was perhaps better if she had just worked on where she is now so well known to be starkly lacking, and become the beautiful young lady (not in the skanky-whore kind of way, of course) that she could without difficulty become.

Group II elements
We have high respect people like you who memorize long stretches of verses of the Quran, and like to read them when you lead prayers. Because of this high respect that we have for you, we didn’t mind if you accidentally stood up for a third raka’at when you’re supposed to have just entered tahiyyat akhir. But I’m sorry to say, we did mind it when some gentle souls among us alerted you of your mistake by exclaiming “Subhanallaah!”—and you did not take heed! Imagine the scene when half of us followed you for the third raka’at, while some others stayed seated for tahiyyat, confused whether to stay seated or to stand up. (But out of respect again, those people stood up, eventually.) Imagine the scene, for goodness sake! Again, just because we’re praying doesn’t mean we become temporarily blind. If the beauty of praying as a jam’ah is experiencing that you and your brothers are in unison, and in tempo, glorifying Allaah, then this utterly spoiled it. In tempo, man, you got to keep everyone in tempo (imagine me snapping my fingers as I say this). And of course, let us overlook for a while that you forgot some of your verses, in which case, even if it is really okay and ought to be tolerable, it is much better for you to stick to some familiar ones which you are less likely to foul up. You read it well and smooth, and we _all_ get the sweetness of the prayer. It’s that easy.

Group III elements
You bring your kids to pray alongside with you. They are so young, they are the height of my crotch. God knows if they’ve gotten their penises circumcised or not. When they pray, they have the amazing ability to move about on their feet, turn their heads to look left and right and up and down. They don’t even bother to close up the row (rapatkan saf), and within the luxury of the space they stand within, they move about. I mean, come on. I say again, just because we’re praying doesn’t mean we turn blind. I said the beauty of praying jam’ah is everyone acting in unison, and in tempo. That’s not going to happen if we have kids moving about randomly, while in the saf. It spoils the sanctity of prayer. And the worse thing is, it looks worse on their fathers, who happened to be there, praying beside them. Fathers, if your children are too young to pray jam’ah, please be considerate to keep them at home. Make them do their schoolwork or something. That’s 10 times much better. And if you really want them to come along, make sure they are mature enough to respect the congregation, and tell them to keep still when their supposed to, and move only when their supposed to.

-

Because of these elements, I find it hard to maintain concentration during prayer. I deeply regret it. I don’t benefit from saying all this, but if you are one of these elements, I hope this gets some sense into your head.

What is peer pressure, exactly? It’s when you feel pressured by people in your age group to act a certain way. Positive peer pressure is when your friends expect good things from you. Negative peer pressure is when your friends persuade you to conform or do something you don’t want to do, like skip school, shoplift, have sex, do drugs, lie, vandalize, swear, dress a certain way, gossip, bully, and on and on.

You give in because you want to be accepted. You want to please. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. You just want to be like everyone else.

(p. 114, “The 6 Most Important Decisions You’ll Ever Make”, emphasis added)

Children abandoning old parents at homes

S’poreans are happy, satisfied: survey

Aged, alone and abandoned
A nursing home in S’pore reports that children are abandoning their aged parents at old folks’ homes.

“For our vanity is such that we hold our own characters immutable, and we are slow to acknowledge that they have changed, even for the better.” — E. M. Forster, English Novelist

On looking ‘nice’, I could speak of the degree of ‘nice’, or ‘niceness’, as lying anywhere between, and inclusive of,  skanky-whore ‘nice’ and  beautiful ‘nice’. The former is consistent with the commonly heard phrase ‘naughty and nice’, where looking ‘naughty’, though closer to the skanky-whore end of the spectrum, is still ‘nice’. (Surely, it is ‘nice’, looking at the massive amount of attention given to people who characterize that end of the spectrum).

There is really an ocean of a difference between looking skanky-whore ‘nice’ and beautiful ‘nice’. The former is easy; the latter is difficult.

To achieve the former, one just needs to reveal a lot of flesh and figure, and do a lot of unnatural things to one’s natural selves. This includes, but is not restricted to, making some things bigger, making some things smaller, and changing the colour or shape of some things. It’s really easy. Of course, once one has done all that, there’s no point hiding it; so, one displays oneself to the world for the world to enjoy it. After all, there’s a reason why it’s called skanky-whore ‘nice’.

By contrast, achieving the latter takes a different kind of effort and will. It involves searching deep within oneself, realising the greater purpose of life, and knowing the true meaning, value, and context of beauty and ‘niceness’. (Yes, beautiful ‘nice’ has its own context, much like skanky-whore ‘nice’, whose context comprises many external eyes.)

Over here
Come slowly
Come slowly to me
I’ve been waiting
Patient
Patiently
I didn’t
But now I can see

That there’s a way out
That there’s a way out

That there’s a way out
That there’s a way out
That there’s a way out

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love

But I can’t help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run

And it wears me out, it wears me out
It wears me out, it wears me out

And if I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted
All the time, all the time.

Asked why exceptions are made for Sikhs serving NS, Col Lim said: “Sikhs serving in the SAF are allowed to wear turbans only because this is a carry-over from the past.

“This is a long-established practice going back decades to colonial times. We cannot allow further exceptions to be made today for other servicemen. Allowing further exceptions would undermine what we have achieved so far to make sure that our rules, regulations and standards are fair to all.

“This will be detrimental to not only the security needs of the nation, but will also weaken the strong national identity that NS forges amongst its servicemen.” — TODAY/ra

As if the Hindu practice was just made up some 3 days ago.

Double standards.
Double standards.
Double standards.

And to recall these very words, which I cannot remember by myself, and had to copy from Wikipedia:

We, the citizens of Singapore
pledge ourselves as one united people,
regardless of race, language or religion,
to build a democratic society,
based on justice and equality,
so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and
progress for our nation.

Unjust and unequal, that’s what the reality is.

The radio station disappears
Music turned into thin air
The DJ was the last to leave
She had well conditioned hair
Was beautiful, but nothing really was there

“Last Flowers” by Radiohead

and if i’m gonna talk
i just want to talk
please don’t interrupt
just sit back and listen

cos i can’t face the evening straight
you can offer me escape
houses move and houses speak
if you take me there you’ll get relief, relief, relief, relief
relief, relief

it’s too much, too bright, too powerful
too much, too bright, too powerful

“Herculean” by The Good, The Bad, and The Queen

Call for prayer
Is common ’round here
In the morning
We wash our faces go to work
There is no warning

That it all gets better when life is straight
It’s bigger than you
The Welfare State
We’ll keep singing, “It’s not too late
For you”

“Snowed Under” by Keane

I don’t know why I waste my time
Getting hung up about the things you say
When I open my eyes and it’s a lovely day
You know sometimes I feel like I’m
Getting snowed under with the things you say
When I open my eyes and it’s a lovely day

“Annie” by Emilie Simon

Annie, tombe par hasard sur des amis, il y a déjà bien longtemps qu’elle n’a vu personne, pas depuis l’automne

Annie, tombe amoureuse un petit ami, ça prend beaucoup trop de temps alors elle abandonne, ce gentil bonhomme

Although the Wikipedia community may not be very concerned about the moral catastrophe that is the crux of obscene music and music videos, their list has surely surpassed mine in number.

No points for guessing which artists are in the list, and which are not. Even some artists (e.g. Sigur Ros, Massive Attack) whom I thought were innocent of the crime are on the list, and I will proceed to remove them from my music collection. I viewed one of Lady Gaga’s video (“Paparazzi”) and think that she is really making the show of buttocks a norm already. Britney Spears, 50 Cent, Nelly… pfff! And even Black Eyed Peas with their new “I Gotta [sic] Feeling”… sheesh!

But this list is restricted to nudity. My abhorrence goes further to include obscenity, even when not specifically termed as ‘nudity’.

Abhorrence. Of whores. And some people would rather listen (literally) to whores, than the voice of reason. I’m sure fans are waiting with great anticipation for the Lady Gaga concert. And the fans of whores are aptly called whore fans.

I would perhaps say in the same tone and emotion, of this toxic concoction of sex/hiphop/rap/R&B/dance music, what Thom Yorke said of rock (~2 mins):

(In short, “It’s not about the music.. but all the mythology that goes with it. I have a real fucking problem with that.” But do not miss his comparison with literature and art.)

I keep reminding myself: If you close your eyes to it long enough, someday you’ll be totally blind to it, and your heart closed. By that time, you wouldn’t even realise. It’d be like being lost without light in a dark cloudy night.

We have to choose. Really.

The first thing you need to know about Goldman Sachs is that it’s everywhere. The world’s most powerful investment bank is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money.

Interesting description, eh? I wish I could write like him.

Read the article.

My mind sometimes strays to think of code while I am praying, and I think of code even before I go to sleep, and sometimes it creeps into my dreams. My body lacks rest from staying up late at night, and has been overdosed with caffeine to keep awake in the day; it sometimes binges on instant noodles and whole cans of Pringles too.

My myopia might have worsened from hours of looking at the computer screen; my shoulders and back, hunched from slouching in my chair; my limbs, emasculated from lack of exercise; my hair, shooting gray strands from constant stress and worry and anxiety.

I often mistakenly associate a person with his or her code quality, and I curse and swear (albeit quietly to myself) at the slightest whiff of code smell, while thinking of nasty things to do or say to the original programmer.

Oh God, I have truly gone overboard. Guide me back to (code in) the Straight Path.

Espresso is your friend. But no more than two cups a day, lest you get palpitations. And none after 6pm. Especially not a double-shot.

They ask you to come to work at 8.30 a.m. for a good reason: the computer takes half an hour to boot up, so, you really start work at 9. Many people use that time to read the newspaper, or make some coffee.

There are two types of workers: those who are at their cubicles most of the time (like, ahem, myself), and those who are at other people’s cubicles most of the time. You might take a guess at the difference.

Sometimes you see people reading the newspaper. At first sight, you might think they have so much free time, or they’re slacking. But where I work, they’re studying the company’s competitor’s ads.

You sometimes send email to your colleague just a cubicle away. You know that it’s much faster to talk face-to-face, but hey, you tell yourself, “I might just disturb a busy person”. Or, “it’d be funny if I keep popping my head to talk to him every once in a while.” So, you click “Send”.

It’s really nice to have a gym at work. The best time to go is on Friday, after work, when work ends early, and when everyone else eagerly rushes home for the weekend. You’ll own the gym. It feels like that for me, at least for now, as a bachelor.

Friday is ‘dress down day’. Wear jeans and T-shirt to remind your usually bourgeois self that that’ll be what you’ll be wearing when you get retrenched.

Check out the unassuming vending machines. They might sell drinks cheaper, like 60 cents for a can of Coke. Of course, this wouldn’t apply if you’re at Google or Microsoft.

You might be working in a telco company, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that there’s free wifi where you sit.

Company canteens can sell rather cheap food. Like $2 a plate. Not too bad.

Sometimes, you may knock off from work still having work in your mind. It is sometimes not easy to clear your mind, so, sometimes, it’s quite wise to do some overtime to complete a task, for the sake of your own sanity.

Otherwise, you might have trouble sleeping at night. It happened to me. Like many others, I try to listen to some music. If you’re like me, you might struggle to find the right kind of music, and end up still sleepless, pressing quite maniacally on the Skip button in iTunes.

Here are some rare gems I could find in my collection, with some comments, and favourite lines:

The Beatles – Here, There and Everywhere

Found on Absolute Radio. People don’t make this kind of music any more. Love the intro.

To lead a better life I need my love to be here

[...]

I want her everywhere and if she’s beside me
I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her everywhere
Knowing that love is to share

The Kings of Convenience – The Weight of My Words

The weight of my words:
you can’t feel it anymore.

Radiohead – Scatterbrain

I’m walking out in a force ten gale
Birds thrown around, bullets for hail
The roof is pulling off by its fingernails
Your voice is rattlin’ on my window sill

Chet Baker – My Funny Valentine

But don’t change a hair for me
Not if you care for me
Stay, little valentine
Stay
Each day is Valentine’s Day

Dandelion Wine – While My Guitar Gently Weeps (The Beatles cover)

This cover is marvellous.

I look at the world and I notice it’s turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps