Adolf Hitler Part 2
During the 1920s Hitler took lessons in public speaking and in mass psychology from Erik Jan Hanussen, an astrologer and fortune teller. Hitler was a strong believer in astrology, telepathy, graphology, phrenology, and physiognomy, and usually sought supernatural advice when making decisions. (for a leader Hitler was deeply superstitious, but then again maybe things were supposed to happen this way...)
Hitler was secretly financed by German Industrialists and various German princes, who believed the Nazis were the best group to stop the rising support of Communism that threatened their fortunes. They contributed a reported twenty-five million gold marks. In the years before the Nazis took over Germany. In return, Hitler discreetly changed the party platform which had been up to that point against capitalists and royalists.
Angela, Hitler's elder half sister, was the only family member he had any contact with in his later years. She was once the manager of the Mensa Academia Judaica in Vienna. During an anti-Semitic student riot, she defended the Jewish students from attack by beating Aryan students with a club from the steps of the kitchen.
Hitler was a very ordinary- looking man with a mincing walk. His strongest physical asset was his-eyes, which were blue verging on violet, with a depth and glint that made them almost hypnotic. In his earlier days he wore a. pointed beard, often -unkempt, and had broken, rotten teeth. He began wearing the famous little moustache during World War I. More of a British style than a German one, he may have adopted it in imitation of English officers, whom he grew to admire during his years at the front.
Hitler's nickname was “Wolf.” Only a handful of people were ever allowed to use the name. His favorite dogs were Alsatians, which In German are called “Wolfhuende.” His French head quarters was named Wolf's Gulch. In the Ukraine he called his headquarters Werewolf, and in East Prussia, Wolf's Lair.
He also believed he was under divine protection. This feeling had been reinforced during the war when he was in a trench eating lunch and a voice told him to getup and move to a different pot. A few minutes later a stray shell fell and everyone who was in the place he had left was killed.
Angela's daughter, Geli Raubal, was a pretty woman who, in her twenties, lived with Hitler during his rise to power. Nineteen years younger than Hitler, she was by all accounts the only woman he ever loved. Hitler made her pose for nude drawings, which were later stolen and bought back from a blackmailer, and reportedly whipped her with a bullwhip. She is quoted as telling a friend, “My uncle is a monster. You would never believe the things he makes me do.”
He was insanely jealous of her. When his chauffeur confessed to him that he and Reubal were lovers and wanted to marry, Hitler flew into a rage and fired him. One night, after a loud public fight, she apparently killed herself with a shot from Hitler’s revolver.
When Hitler learned of her death, he decided to become a vegetarian and made a vow never to eat meat again. He went into a deep depression and threatened suicide. An associate, Gregor Strasser, took heroic measures to keep him alive. (This would count as the top thing he regretted because three years later, Hitler ordered his execution.)
He threatened to kill himself many times, always allowing someone to save him. When in jail for the first time, he decided to starve himself to death. A visiting party member convinced him that he should at least think the decision over clearly, and that to be able to think clearly it was necessary to have some food. He gobbled rice hungrily. (Loser)
Eva Braun, his final mistress, was a product of a convent school. She was only seventeen years old when Hitler began to take her out. Once, after seeing photographs of Hitler in the company of other women, Braun also shot herself, severing an artery in her neck. She survived.
In 1935 Braun became despondent when Hitler' s preoccupation with international affairs left little time for her. She again attempted suicide, this time by swallowing twenty sleeping pills. Her sister Ilse found her in a coma and saved her. Angela was his housekeeper at this time. She despised Braun refused to shake hands with her, and referred to her as “the stupid cow.” Because Hitler continued to bring Braun to his chalet, Angela gave up her housekeeper post and got married.
Conjecture about Hitler' s sex life abounds. Hitler had only one close friend during his late adolescence, a sensitive artist and musician, August Kubizek his good friend. They were inseparable and some believed they carried on a sexual relationship. Hitler did an architectural drawing of a house in which the two might live together, sharing their interests in art and music.
Hitler had no real interest in women, preferring to keep away from them and even smugly rebuffed those who showed any interest in him. He strictly adhered to his Catholic upbringing regarding sex, believing men and women should remain celibate until marriage
One former army associate claimed that, in the army, Hitler was never promoted past lance corporal because of alleged pederastic practices. He also claimed that while in Munich, Hitler was guilty of offenses under Article 175 of German military code which deals with pederasty.
Many men in his Inner circle, Including Rudolf Hess and Ernst Röhm, were homosexuals. One of the rooming houses in which Hitler lived in his younger days was a notorious pick-up site for homosexual trysts.
Some rumors claimed Hitler was impotent, others that he got pleasure from women defecating and urinating on his face. We do know that Hitler had a keen interest in pornography.
Hitler also had an incredible sweet tooth and consumed large quantities of pastries and as much as two pounds of chocolate in a day.
Hitler did not like to be alone. He would frequently summon aides to sit with him in the middle of the night while he rambled on about anything that came to his mind. There was an unwritten rule among the aides that no one would ask a question lest Hitler go off on another tangent.
When Hitler visited Mussolini to try to arrange a pact against Russia, he became very disillusioned about the professionalism of the Italian navy when he saw the sailors' laundry flying from the ships' masts. (This gave a whole new meaning to dirty laundry)
After a nine-hour meeting in 1940 with Spanish dictator Franco, Hitler remarked to Mussolini he would rather visit a dentist and have three or four teeth taken out to repeat the ordeal.
By 1937, when the rest of the world didn't even consider environmental degradation a significant problem, Hitler was mandating antipollution devices on factories in the Ruhr. All new factories, like those that manufactured Strength-Through-Joy cars (later renamed the Volkswagen), were required to install antipollution devices.
During the Balkan campaign, Hitler's special train carried a separate car for the fuhrer's cow.
Dr. Erwin Giesing, who treated Hitler after an aborted assassination attempt by German generals, was one of the few men Hitler trusted after the affair. However, Giesing wrote in his diary that he had once tried to kill the Fuhrer by giving him a double dose of cocaine. The attempt went undetected, and Hitler remained alive.
A chronic queasy stomach caused Hitler to fear he had cancer. The Rumanian dictator Antonescu shared Hitler' s plight with stomach ailments. He sent his Jewish cook, Fraulein Kunde, to the fuhrer. When Himmler asked Hitler about the propriety of having a Jew as a cook, he ordered his aides to “Aryanize” her, making her officially not Jewish.
At the end of the war, when Hitler decided to commit suicide rather than falling to the hands of the Russians, his first act was to poison his favorite dog, Wolf.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Friday, April 22, 2005
An Eulogy
An ex-colleague came back to visit us after almost three years. I was not really close to her, since she left after half a year I was posted to the school. The only time when I get to speak to her was when she was handing over the Track and Field CCA miscellaneous stuff to me. After which she left Singapore with her husband. Back for a short trip, she came to the school premises to visit us. She looked differently. She also brought her little girl to school. But this was not really the point I am making but rather what strike me most was that the 5N girls still remember her after almost (gasp!) 4 years of absence. So based on the maths, they have probably been taught by her in Secondary One. What is interesting is that this teacher must have done something of value to them that they will remember her after so many years of absence.
A nice get together with my ex secondary school classmates a couple of weeks back perhaps got me thinking even before this incident. Our topics during gathering would usually be our work, our lives, who-met-who?, who-getting-married? And inevitably the ever-good old days of our secondary school lives. Of course more than ever, the topics would usually veered towards our teachers who had taught us. We would talked about our Chinese teacher who is a bit “psychotic” – namely he liked to ask one of my classmates to squat at one corner of the classroom and also tell students offender to write Chinese words in pages. Thos repeated offender will had their punishment increased by 2 times – for example if a student was supposed to write 5 pages worth of words like “I will not say mean things about the teacher again” and he failed to hand it in on the stipulated date, he will have to write 10 pages with a new deadline, and if he failed to do so again, the punishment will become 20 pages and so on and so forth. He was also a egoistic man who loves to show off his Japanese in class, and when we are having Chinese lessons, we have to rushed down to the staffroom and collect his AV equipment and make sure the OHP and the AV equipment is switched on and ready to be use.* If he reached the classroom earlier than you, congrats! You will find yourself squatting outside the classroom. I have even seen books flying out of the classroom and you see students frantically running downstairs to collect them.** (As a side track, many of you will probably be saying that the educational system and society have changed and therefore we should not be using these methods to educate our children; you have to treat them well in order to pacify their egos and most importantly their egos are extremely fragile and these can have serious repercussions on their future development. What the heck! I was brought up in this fashion and I am fine, well I guess having a decent job with a decent family life qualify for an “okay”) In fact in his lessons, it is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, his breathing ( a la Darth Vader) and the sound of the second rated fans.
Our conversation will also be on that horrible Additional Maths teacher who was always telling us about “trigo-nor-matrix le-sioh” and the “you add this wan and this wan to get that wan”. Shockingly I can only remember this from my Add Maths lessons. Another interesting character was my Literature teacher who looks like a female Snowball from the novel “Animal Farm”, I never had a good impression of her especially when I found her judgemental and critical, particularly to the more Chinese-speaking members in the class. She obviously also did not have a good opinion of the AEP students in the class and I remember that time when my AEP friend and me handed in a 3D model of the revolution, with complete characters, and barns and all. She merely took a glance of our months of effort and said, “take that away, it is eye sore” Sadly to say, after months of creation, it took us just minutes to dismantle every single thing and dumped it in the dustbin near the corridor, with teary eyes. However as the month passed by, I started to appreciate her as a good and dedicated teacher and I quoted and unquoted “decided to forgive her because it is too tiring to hate someone”. She became a mentor and a friend, but sad to say, I never do well for my English, but I guess well enough to get into the college of my choice.
Enough of the reminiscences, what came across my mind was “If I were to leave the profession or if after a long time say 10 years,a nd student started to talk about me, what would they say about me? What kind of teacher would I be, what funny things or even what happy or even hurting things will they associate with me?” Would all this idiosyncrasies be discussed over cups of teas and slices of cake, or imitated amidst roars of laughter and giggles. Anyway no matter what it is, it still boiled down to the fact that he or she had made an impact in the lives of the kids whether it is positive or negative. Ultimately it is important and nice to know that when we leave the classroom , we can lift our heads high and consciences clear, that we have in some way made an impact on the kids' lives.
* Nowadays we teachers have to set up our own OHP and Av equipment, there aren’t any student who will run down to collect it for you. SIGH!!
** Try doing that now, and you will most probably be getting a complaint from the parent
Calling all students old and present, feel free to leave any comment after reading this. It would be interesting to know what is it that you remember about the teachers, including me.. I promise not to be judgemental.
An ex-colleague came back to visit us after almost three years. I was not really close to her, since she left after half a year I was posted to the school. The only time when I get to speak to her was when she was handing over the Track and Field CCA miscellaneous stuff to me. After which she left Singapore with her husband. Back for a short trip, she came to the school premises to visit us. She looked differently. She also brought her little girl to school. But this was not really the point I am making but rather what strike me most was that the 5N girls still remember her after almost (gasp!) 4 years of absence. So based on the maths, they have probably been taught by her in Secondary One. What is interesting is that this teacher must have done something of value to them that they will remember her after so many years of absence.
A nice get together with my ex secondary school classmates a couple of weeks back perhaps got me thinking even before this incident. Our topics during gathering would usually be our work, our lives, who-met-who?, who-getting-married? And inevitably the ever-good old days of our secondary school lives. Of course more than ever, the topics would usually veered towards our teachers who had taught us. We would talked about our Chinese teacher who is a bit “psychotic” – namely he liked to ask one of my classmates to squat at one corner of the classroom and also tell students offender to write Chinese words in pages. Thos repeated offender will had their punishment increased by 2 times – for example if a student was supposed to write 5 pages worth of words like “I will not say mean things about the teacher again” and he failed to hand it in on the stipulated date, he will have to write 10 pages with a new deadline, and if he failed to do so again, the punishment will become 20 pages and so on and so forth. He was also a egoistic man who loves to show off his Japanese in class, and when we are having Chinese lessons, we have to rushed down to the staffroom and collect his AV equipment and make sure the OHP and the AV equipment is switched on and ready to be use.* If he reached the classroom earlier than you, congrats! You will find yourself squatting outside the classroom. I have even seen books flying out of the classroom and you see students frantically running downstairs to collect them.** (As a side track, many of you will probably be saying that the educational system and society have changed and therefore we should not be using these methods to educate our children; you have to treat them well in order to pacify their egos and most importantly their egos are extremely fragile and these can have serious repercussions on their future development. What the heck! I was brought up in this fashion and I am fine, well I guess having a decent job with a decent family life qualify for an “okay”) In fact in his lessons, it is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, his breathing ( a la Darth Vader) and the sound of the second rated fans.
Our conversation will also be on that horrible Additional Maths teacher who was always telling us about “trigo-nor-matrix le-sioh” and the “you add this wan and this wan to get that wan”. Shockingly I can only remember this from my Add Maths lessons. Another interesting character was my Literature teacher who looks like a female Snowball from the novel “Animal Farm”, I never had a good impression of her especially when I found her judgemental and critical, particularly to the more Chinese-speaking members in the class. She obviously also did not have a good opinion of the AEP students in the class and I remember that time when my AEP friend and me handed in a 3D model of the revolution, with complete characters, and barns and all. She merely took a glance of our months of effort and said, “take that away, it is eye sore” Sadly to say, after months of creation, it took us just minutes to dismantle every single thing and dumped it in the dustbin near the corridor, with teary eyes. However as the month passed by, I started to appreciate her as a good and dedicated teacher and I quoted and unquoted “decided to forgive her because it is too tiring to hate someone”. She became a mentor and a friend, but sad to say, I never do well for my English, but I guess well enough to get into the college of my choice.
Enough of the reminiscences, what came across my mind was “If I were to leave the profession or if after a long time say 10 years,a nd student started to talk about me, what would they say about me? What kind of teacher would I be, what funny things or even what happy or even hurting things will they associate with me?” Would all this idiosyncrasies be discussed over cups of teas and slices of cake, or imitated amidst roars of laughter and giggles. Anyway no matter what it is, it still boiled down to the fact that he or she had made an impact in the lives of the kids whether it is positive or negative. Ultimately it is important and nice to know that when we leave the classroom , we can lift our heads high and consciences clear, that we have in some way made an impact on the kids' lives.
* Nowadays we teachers have to set up our own OHP and Av equipment, there aren’t any student who will run down to collect it for you. SIGH!!
** Try doing that now, and you will most probably be getting a complaint from the parent
Calling all students old and present, feel free to leave any comment after reading this. It would be interesting to know what is it that you remember about the teachers, including me.. I promise not to be judgemental.
Adolf Hitler (Part 1)
I realize that my history students are pretty fascinated with this man known as Hitler. Not surprising, he is one of the few villains who captured the peoples’ imaginations with his troubled life. He was a tragic figure and his early life was peppered with snippets which can be seen in many instances of people lives. He was an anti-hero, which you cannot see in people’s nowadays. Not that I have particular admiration for him but it seems that the villains that actually come close is like Saddam Hussein, Pol Pot, Osama Bin Laden and of course Michael Jackson. In fact till this day, we struggle to understand how this son of a petty civil servant managed to convince an entire nation to go along with his dreams of world conquest and racial superiority. I am not trying to put the record straight but just to make this person more human. In fact I found some stuff through books and the net which will give a better insight of this man. But as I say although the information is correct, I have choose to to it in a tongue-in-cheek manner.
~~~~The JUICY PARTS~~~~
Adolf Hitler, born April 20, 1889, is undoubtedly one of the most puzzling personalities of our time. He became a vegetarian and purportedly loved animals (he even left bread crumbs for the mice in his apartment), played games with children, and lovingly offered gold watches to friends who promised to quit smoking. (And this is also the same man who sentenced millions of men, women, and children to death without a second thought)
Hitler's father, Alois Hitler, was the illegitimate son of Maria Anna Schickigruber. Maria worked for the Frankenreithers, a Jewish family, as a servant. There has been speculation that Alois' father was the nineteen-year-old son of the family While postwar research casts some doubt on this story which portrays Adolf as one-quarter Jewish, Hitler himself feared that it might be true and tried to cover up any evidence of the matter. Whether true or not, the Frankenreither family financially supported Maria until her son was fourteen.
Hitler's father had three wives (but divorced only one of them), seven or eight children, and at least one more child out of wedlock. One wife was thirteen ears older than him, another twenty three years younger, and one—Hitler's mother—was his foster daughter. Hitler's godfather was a Jew named Prinz. (talk about incest, polygamy, and a total warped family tree - this is the particular type of broken dysfunctional family which create all this problematic situation in the first place. Like I always say, everything happens happens for a reason)
Hitler was not born in Germany, but rather in (at that time) Austria-Hungary. (Hitler is the classic example of foreign talent, the very people that Singaporean government are actively pursuing. Remember Goh Chok Tong who say we need high quality talents to help boost our economy, while Hitler is indeed the classic one! Andf by the way who said the Germans were xenophobic?)
Hitler's sister Paula claimed that Adolf got a sound thrashing every day from his father. Although Alois was strict, it was not clear that he was any more so than the average German father of that period. (Alois should be glad he is not in present day situation, he would have gotten in trouble with the law for beating up children. Children have rights OK... Yah right..)
Hitler idolized his mother and personally nursed her during her last few weeks as she lay dying of cancer. Her physician, Dr. Edmund Bloch, was a Jew. Alter her death in 1908 the grieving Hitler promised the doctor he would be forever grateful for the care he took of his mother. (by gassing the doctor's fellow jews, what a way to show gratitiude)
At age eight Hitler attended a Benedictine monastery school. He longed to become an abbot, but barely escaped expulsion when he was caught smoking. The monastery's coat of arms, displayed in various parts of the school, prominently featured a swastika.
Hitler hated school and his teachers hated his insolence. When he finally finished high school he celebrated by getting so drunk that he fell into unconsciousness When he awoke he could not find his graduation certificate to show his mother. He returned to the school to get a duplicate. The headmaster was waiting for him with his original certificate, It had been torn into four pieces and used as toilet paper. The humiliated future fuhrer then made a vow to touch alcohol never again. (Drinking is bad; Drink, don't drive, all messages brought to yu for authorised medical experts and traffic police)
Hitler was a voracious reader of Karl May’s Western novels, which were very popular in Germany at the time. May was a German who had never visited the United States, so he made up facts about the geography and the habits of American cowboys and Indians. Hitler later claimed that everything he knew about America came from May's books, and that he got the idea of concentration camps from reading about American Indian reservations. (hitler would have failed his comprehension and SS also, how did he get that horrific idea of a concentration camp from the Americans The American are advocates of freedom and human rights! Hm... wait a minute...)
Hitler's half brother Alois, Jr., served time in jail for thievery on at least two occasions and was a bigamist. He was banished to a concentration camp in 1942’because he talked too much about Hitler as a youth. (That should stop you from squaling about your younger sister/brother or any body. They may become PM in singapore one day and then you know...)
Hitler's first youthful love was Stephanie Jansten. He composed a number of love poems In her honor including one he called “Hymn to the Beloved,” and apparently falsely believed from her last name that she was Jewish. In spite of his passion and his confession to his best friend that he would jump off a bridge into the Danube to commit suicide, taking Stephanie with trim, he never once got up the nerve to talk to her. It wasn't until many years later that she discovered she had once been the object of the fuhrer's ardor. (Loser)
Hitler's view of the world, also based in fantasy, began to significantly take shape. He borrowed large numbers of books from the library on German history and Nordic mythology. He was also deeply inspired by the opera works of Richard Wagner and their pagan, mythical tales of struggle against hated enemies. His friend Kubizek recalled that after seeing Wagner's opera 'Rienzi,' Hitler behaved as if possessed. Hitler led his friend atop a steep hill where he spoke in a strange voice of a great mission in which he would lead the people to freedom, similar to the plot in the opera he had just seen. (So when we say Hitler was a loony, we were quite spot on, he was indeed hal-loo-cinating)
A little bit more about this man, young Hitler also had this sense of delusion towards Stephanie. He would stare at her as she walked by and sometimes followed her. He wrote her many love poems. But he never delivered the poems or worked up the nerve to introduce himself, preferring to keep her in his fantasies. He told his friend Kubizek he was able to communicate with her by intuition and that she was even aware of his thoughts and had great admiration for him. He was also deeply jealous of any attention she showed other young men. In reality, she had no idea Hitler had any interest in her. Years later, when told of the interest of her now famous secret admirer, she expressed complete surprise, although she remembered getting one weird unsigned letter. (Loser X 2)
Unable to get into art school, Hitler moved to Liverpool, England, to avoid, the draft. However, on a visit to Vienna, the authorities caught up with him, and he entered the army just as World War I was breaking out. He was a message runner In those pre-radio days, and was awarded the Iron Cross for bravery under fire, thanks to the recommendation of his commanding officer, Hugo Gutmann, who was Jewish. By this time Hitler, however, was already deeply anti-Semitic. ‘
While in the army, he loved sketching and painting bombed-out buildings. (So he did have this obsession with blown up stuff whic probably account for the fact that he destroyed so many property in the Second World War. To paint them perhaps?)
Corporal Hitler was a dispatch runner, taking messages back and forth from the command staff in the rear to the fighting units near the battlefield. He was an unusual soldier with a sloppy manner and unmilitary bearing. But he was also eager for action and always ready to volunteer for dangerous assignments even after many narrow escapes from death. Hitler, unlike his fellow soldiers, never complained about bad food and the horrible conditions or talked about women, preferring to discuss art or history. His fellow soldiers regarded Hitler as too eager to please his superiors, but generally a likable loner notable for his luck in avoiding injury as well as his bravery. (in the army we call these people xiao "on" or too "on the bolla". Anyway these are the usual sabo kings who will get themselves into trouble with the rest of the guys- most probably getting a blanket party...)
One month before Germany surrendered he was blinded by a chlorine gas attack and didn't fully regain his sight until the war was over.
I guess there were so much juicy parts on this man and I should continue with the next part. On a side note. Perhaps some of you have notice that I am starting to use pictures more to spice up the blog. Share your comments whether you like the new format. Or I should continue with the words and talk and bore.. :P
I realize that my history students are pretty fascinated with this man known as Hitler. Not surprising, he is one of the few villains who captured the peoples’ imaginations with his troubled life. He was a tragic figure and his early life was peppered with snippets which can be seen in many instances of people lives. He was an anti-hero, which you cannot see in people’s nowadays. Not that I have particular admiration for him but it seems that the villains that actually come close is like Saddam Hussein, Pol Pot, Osama Bin Laden and of course Michael Jackson. In fact till this day, we struggle to understand how this son of a petty civil servant managed to convince an entire nation to go along with his dreams of world conquest and racial superiority. I am not trying to put the record straight but just to make this person more human. In fact I found some stuff through books and the net which will give a better insight of this man. But as I say although the information is correct, I have choose to to it in a tongue-in-cheek manner.
~~~~The JUICY PARTS~~~~
Adolf Hitler, born April 20, 1889, is undoubtedly one of the most puzzling personalities of our time. He became a vegetarian and purportedly loved animals (he even left bread crumbs for the mice in his apartment), played games with children, and lovingly offered gold watches to friends who promised to quit smoking. (And this is also the same man who sentenced millions of men, women, and children to death without a second thought)
Hitler's father, Alois Hitler, was the illegitimate son of Maria Anna Schickigruber. Maria worked for the Frankenreithers, a Jewish family, as a servant. There has been speculation that Alois' father was the nineteen-year-old son of the family While postwar research casts some doubt on this story which portrays Adolf as one-quarter Jewish, Hitler himself feared that it might be true and tried to cover up any evidence of the matter. Whether true or not, the Frankenreither family financially supported Maria until her son was fourteen.
Hitler's father had three wives (but divorced only one of them), seven or eight children, and at least one more child out of wedlock. One wife was thirteen ears older than him, another twenty three years younger, and one—Hitler's mother—was his foster daughter. Hitler's godfather was a Jew named Prinz. (talk about incest, polygamy, and a total warped family tree - this is the particular type of broken dysfunctional family which create all this problematic situation in the first place. Like I always say, everything happens happens for a reason)
Hitler was not born in Germany, but rather in (at that time) Austria-Hungary. (Hitler is the classic example of foreign talent, the very people that Singaporean government are actively pursuing. Remember Goh Chok Tong who say we need high quality talents to help boost our economy, while Hitler is indeed the classic one! Andf by the way who said the Germans were xenophobic?)
Hitler's sister Paula claimed that Adolf got a sound thrashing every day from his father. Although Alois was strict, it was not clear that he was any more so than the average German father of that period. (Alois should be glad he is not in present day situation, he would have gotten in trouble with the law for beating up children. Children have rights OK... Yah right..)
Hitler idolized his mother and personally nursed her during her last few weeks as she lay dying of cancer. Her physician, Dr. Edmund Bloch, was a Jew. Alter her death in 1908 the grieving Hitler promised the doctor he would be forever grateful for the care he took of his mother. (by gassing the doctor's fellow jews, what a way to show gratitiude)
At age eight Hitler attended a Benedictine monastery school. He longed to become an abbot, but barely escaped expulsion when he was caught smoking. The monastery's coat of arms, displayed in various parts of the school, prominently featured a swastika.
Hitler hated school and his teachers hated his insolence. When he finally finished high school he celebrated by getting so drunk that he fell into unconsciousness When he awoke he could not find his graduation certificate to show his mother. He returned to the school to get a duplicate. The headmaster was waiting for him with his original certificate, It had been torn into four pieces and used as toilet paper. The humiliated future fuhrer then made a vow to touch alcohol never again. (Drinking is bad; Drink, don't drive, all messages brought to yu for authorised medical experts and traffic police)
Hitler was a voracious reader of Karl May’s Western novels, which were very popular in Germany at the time. May was a German who had never visited the United States, so he made up facts about the geography and the habits of American cowboys and Indians. Hitler later claimed that everything he knew about America came from May's books, and that he got the idea of concentration camps from reading about American Indian reservations. (hitler would have failed his comprehension and SS also, how did he get that horrific idea of a concentration camp from the Americans The American are advocates of freedom and human rights! Hm... wait a minute...)
Hitler's half brother Alois, Jr., served time in jail for thievery on at least two occasions and was a bigamist. He was banished to a concentration camp in 1942’because he talked too much about Hitler as a youth. (That should stop you from squaling about your younger sister/brother or any body. They may become PM in singapore one day and then you know...)
Hitler's first youthful love was Stephanie Jansten. He composed a number of love poems In her honor including one he called “Hymn to the Beloved,” and apparently falsely believed from her last name that she was Jewish. In spite of his passion and his confession to his best friend that he would jump off a bridge into the Danube to commit suicide, taking Stephanie with trim, he never once got up the nerve to talk to her. It wasn't until many years later that she discovered she had once been the object of the fuhrer's ardor. (Loser)
Hitler's view of the world, also based in fantasy, began to significantly take shape. He borrowed large numbers of books from the library on German history and Nordic mythology. He was also deeply inspired by the opera works of Richard Wagner and their pagan, mythical tales of struggle against hated enemies. His friend Kubizek recalled that after seeing Wagner's opera 'Rienzi,' Hitler behaved as if possessed. Hitler led his friend atop a steep hill where he spoke in a strange voice of a great mission in which he would lead the people to freedom, similar to the plot in the opera he had just seen. (So when we say Hitler was a loony, we were quite spot on, he was indeed hal-loo-cinating)
A little bit more about this man, young Hitler also had this sense of delusion towards Stephanie. He would stare at her as she walked by and sometimes followed her. He wrote her many love poems. But he never delivered the poems or worked up the nerve to introduce himself, preferring to keep her in his fantasies. He told his friend Kubizek he was able to communicate with her by intuition and that she was even aware of his thoughts and had great admiration for him. He was also deeply jealous of any attention she showed other young men. In reality, she had no idea Hitler had any interest in her. Years later, when told of the interest of her now famous secret admirer, she expressed complete surprise, although she remembered getting one weird unsigned letter. (Loser X 2)
Unable to get into art school, Hitler moved to Liverpool, England, to avoid, the draft. However, on a visit to Vienna, the authorities caught up with him, and he entered the army just as World War I was breaking out. He was a message runner In those pre-radio days, and was awarded the Iron Cross for bravery under fire, thanks to the recommendation of his commanding officer, Hugo Gutmann, who was Jewish. By this time Hitler, however, was already deeply anti-Semitic. ‘
While in the army, he loved sketching and painting bombed-out buildings. (So he did have this obsession with blown up stuff whic probably account for the fact that he destroyed so many property in the Second World War. To paint them perhaps?)
Corporal Hitler was a dispatch runner, taking messages back and forth from the command staff in the rear to the fighting units near the battlefield. He was an unusual soldier with a sloppy manner and unmilitary bearing. But he was also eager for action and always ready to volunteer for dangerous assignments even after many narrow escapes from death. Hitler, unlike his fellow soldiers, never complained about bad food and the horrible conditions or talked about women, preferring to discuss art or history. His fellow soldiers regarded Hitler as too eager to please his superiors, but generally a likable loner notable for his luck in avoiding injury as well as his bravery. (in the army we call these people xiao "on" or too "on the bolla". Anyway these are the usual sabo kings who will get themselves into trouble with the rest of the guys- most probably getting a blanket party...)
One month before Germany surrendered he was blinded by a chlorine gas attack and didn't fully regain his sight until the war was over.
I guess there were so much juicy parts on this man and I should continue with the next part. On a side note. Perhaps some of you have notice that I am starting to use pictures more to spice up the blog. Share your comments whether you like the new format. Or I should continue with the words and talk and bore.. :P
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Encounter with a Rude Kind
The amount of stress for a teacher is an inverse relation as the days approach for the mid year exams. It is at this point of time when 1) all the required syllabus had been taught and there is nothing to do except to revise and drop loads of hints here and there for the unaware students and 2) going to class is just a couple of transparencies and a whiteboard marker. However the stress will increase exponentially to the point when results had to be churned, stacks of marking had to be complete and most importantly comments for the students had to be written. A post mortem had to be done – what went right what went wrong, much akin to that of CSI where they tried to decipher the clues given by the victims. For our case, the TRI ( teacher results investigator) had to do the same for the underperforming students
Nevertheless this post exam activity will not stop me from grumbling and of course complaining about things around me as usual. In fact I felt myself “Zen”ified these couple of days especially when it used to be really frustrating for me to see certain act of misbehaviour and disorder. Let just say today, a couple of hours ago, I was happily walking to my least favourite VCD shop at Toa Payoh Central to get my fix of Hong Kong Drama serials, when I SAW a group of IJ girls in state of undress. Perhaps it is too strong a word to be used, but I cannot comprehend what is so “stylo” about a belt like tie which functions as a scarf and yet barely cover the neck. I also cannot comprehend having collar button unbutton and skirt hiked up almost above knee level and socks sizes which could easily be hand-me-down from your primary school sisters. Yet surprisingly when they see me, they remained oblivious. On a good day, they would have really gotten it from me, A public lecture on the heritage of the school uniform and of course for not even recognizing who I am. But I presume they are all sec ones and twos and they probably won’t recognized me from the school photos and organizations chart which never do me any justice.
And then the mother of all holy cows, another thing came and test me again ( why??) Two of my girls was happily browsing VCDs in the same shop I am in and one of them was having a loose belt ( Thank God for just that) Gave them a short you-can-call-it-a-lecture lecture, I walked out of the VCD shop with my purchase and my eyes away from anything female in blue and white. And then there comes the third test - while I was bringing some afternoon tea to my mom, I saw two boys from a neighbourhood school nearby. Through the surveillance camera, I saw the two boys with cans of drinks and one of them had a lighted cigarette.
RHINEHEART : You have a problem, Mr. Anderson. You think that you're special. You believe that somehow the rules do not apply to you.
RHINEHEART : Obviously, you are mistaken. This company is one of the top software companies in the world because every single employee understands that they are a part of a whole. Thus, if an employee has a problem, the company has a problem.
The time has come to make a choice, Mr. Anderson. Either you choose to be at your desk on time from this day forth, or you choose to find yourself another job. Do I make myself clear?
I guess this is more than what I can bear. After placing my two Rotiboy buns in a safe place, I move up to the ten storey – there was a common corridor.
CYPHER (V.O.) : Just between you and me, you don't believe it, do you? You don't believe this guy is the one?
TRINITY (V.O.) : I think Morpheus believes he is.
CYPHER (V.O.) : I know. But what about you?
TRINITY (V.O.) : I think Morpheus knows things that I don't.
CYPHER (V.O.) : Yeah, but if he's wrong --
Like a couple of fags sharing a cigarette they were shocked to see me as I stand by their side. I looked at them. They were definitely surprised and a little scared. The older of the two ( based on look must be the nicotine) stared back at me
MORPHEUS (V.O.) : I've been watching you, Neo, and I want to meet you. I don't know if you're ready to see what I want to show you, but unfortunately, we have run out of time. They're coming for you, Neo. And I'm not sure what they're going to do.
NEO : What the f*** do they want with me?!
MORPHEUS (V.O.) : I'm not sure. But, if you don't want to find out, you better get out of there.
The amount of stress for a teacher is an inverse relation as the days approach for the mid year exams. It is at this point of time when 1) all the required syllabus had been taught and there is nothing to do except to revise and drop loads of hints here and there for the unaware students and 2) going to class is just a couple of transparencies and a whiteboard marker. However the stress will increase exponentially to the point when results had to be churned, stacks of marking had to be complete and most importantly comments for the students had to be written. A post mortem had to be done – what went right what went wrong, much akin to that of CSI where they tried to decipher the clues given by the victims. For our case, the TRI ( teacher results investigator) had to do the same for the underperforming students
Nevertheless this post exam activity will not stop me from grumbling and of course complaining about things around me as usual. In fact I felt myself “Zen”ified these couple of days especially when it used to be really frustrating for me to see certain act of misbehaviour and disorder. Let just say today, a couple of hours ago, I was happily walking to my least favourite VCD shop at Toa Payoh Central to get my fix of Hong Kong Drama serials, when I SAW a group of IJ girls in state of undress. Perhaps it is too strong a word to be used, but I cannot comprehend what is so “stylo” about a belt like tie which functions as a scarf and yet barely cover the neck. I also cannot comprehend having collar button unbutton and skirt hiked up almost above knee level and socks sizes which could easily be hand-me-down from your primary school sisters. Yet surprisingly when they see me, they remained oblivious. On a good day, they would have really gotten it from me, A public lecture on the heritage of the school uniform and of course for not even recognizing who I am. But I presume they are all sec ones and twos and they probably won’t recognized me from the school photos and organizations chart which never do me any justice.
And then the mother of all holy cows, another thing came and test me again ( why??) Two of my girls was happily browsing VCDs in the same shop I am in and one of them was having a loose belt ( Thank God for just that) Gave them a short you-can-call-it-a-lecture lecture, I walked out of the VCD shop with my purchase and my eyes away from anything female in blue and white. And then there comes the third test - while I was bringing some afternoon tea to my mom, I saw two boys from a neighbourhood school nearby. Through the surveillance camera, I saw the two boys with cans of drinks and one of them had a lighted cigarette.
RHINEHEART : You have a problem, Mr. Anderson. You think that you're special. You believe that somehow the rules do not apply to you.
RHINEHEART : Obviously, you are mistaken. This company is one of the top software companies in the world because every single employee understands that they are a part of a whole. Thus, if an employee has a problem, the company has a problem.
The time has come to make a choice, Mr. Anderson. Either you choose to be at your desk on time from this day forth, or you choose to find yourself another job. Do I make myself clear?
I guess this is more than what I can bear. After placing my two Rotiboy buns in a safe place, I move up to the ten storey – there was a common corridor.
CYPHER (V.O.) : Just between you and me, you don't believe it, do you? You don't believe this guy is the one?
TRINITY (V.O.) : I think Morpheus believes he is.
CYPHER (V.O.) : I know. But what about you?
TRINITY (V.O.) : I think Morpheus knows things that I don't.
CYPHER (V.O.) : Yeah, but if he's wrong --
Like a couple of fags sharing a cigarette they were shocked to see me as I stand by their side. I looked at them. They were definitely surprised and a little scared. The older of the two ( based on look must be the nicotine) stared back at me
MORPHEUS (V.O.) : I've been watching you, Neo, and I want to meet you. I don't know if you're ready to see what I want to show you, but unfortunately, we have run out of time. They're coming for you, Neo. And I'm not sure what they're going to do.
NEO : What the f*** do they want with me?!
MORPHEUS (V.O.) : I'm not sure. But, if you don't want to find out, you better get out of there.
Anyway to make it easier for you people to visualise, I had made a rough sketch of the situation then to the best of my memory. As to why I have a halo over my head, hm I guess i feel I am doing the right thing and thus should be rewarded with an angelic halo.
There was an awkward silence of about 20 seconds. I spoke...
Me: What do you boys think you are doing?
Boy 1: Nothing ( frantically trying to hide the cigarette away)
Me: You are abit too young to smoke right? (Cynical smile which by the way I am pretty good at)
Boy 2: What is your problem?
Boy 1 :Shh…
Boy 1: Nothing ( frantically trying to hide the cigarette away)
Me: You are abit too young to smoke right? (Cynical smile which by the way I am pretty good at)
Boy 2: What is your problem?
Boy 1 :Shh…
Let’s just say the last few words really pissed me off. All those who know me know that I hated to be challenged. I spoke again
Me: Me? (I am your worst nightmare.. corny? but that did cross my mind, i didnt say it though, worried that they will laugh their head off for ripping this line from a B-grade Hollywood movie.) Oh my problem is that you should not be smoking at your age what more in school uniform. You from B##@@$ right? Show me your concession pass, I am going to take down your details and report your behaviour to your principal
Boy 1 was undoubtably scared, he took out his bus pass without any more prompting. But as I was going to get it from Boy 1, Boy 2 stopped it.
Boy 2: Who the hell are you? What give you the right to take down our particulars
Boy 1 was undoubtably scared, he took out his bus pass without any more prompting. But as I was going to get it from Boy 1, Boy 2 stopped it.
Boy 2: Who the hell are you? What give you the right to take down our particulars
Sickening kids! That was when I was really pissed.
Me: I am a teacher and I am very angry at the way you say all this ( notice that I tried not to use all the cheem cheem words for fear the ah beng don’t understand) Your act is already wrong. Fine then let's go and see the principal together. Anyway it is just a short distance away? Or maybe you boys preferred to see the police escorting you there?
Boy 1: Sorry cher! I pomised I dome do eat again. ( Notice the spelling error is deliberate and I was trying to imitate the way he pronounced the words)
Boy 2 realised that he had played the game too far, kept quiet. I was pretty smug.
Me: So?
Boy 2: Solli
Me: Har?
Boy 2; Solli ( at a slightly louder voice)
Me: I am a teacher and I am very angry at the way you say all this ( notice that I tried not to use all the cheem cheem words for fear the ah beng don’t understand) Your act is already wrong. Fine then let's go and see the principal together. Anyway it is just a short distance away? Or maybe you boys preferred to see the police escorting you there?
Boy 1: Sorry cher! I pomised I dome do eat again. ( Notice the spelling error is deliberate and I was trying to imitate the way he pronounced the words)
Boy 2 realised that he had played the game too far, kept quiet. I was pretty smug.
Me: So?
Boy 2: Solli
Me: Har?
Boy 2; Solli ( at a slightly louder voice)
Anyway I still took down their particulars and told them if anything happens I would report this to the school ie, if I found my car scratched, my family harassed, myself got beaten or my students get harmed or of course I catch them again. I let the two boys go.
Did I abuse my power? No I am just exercising what had been given to me – a civic-minded citizen. Did I do right? Yes I gave the boys a chance hopefully they will repent. But then again judging from the chants of “NBCCB” ( a popular ah beng hokkien expletive) I guess they will be doing their illegal liaisons somewhere. May we meet again.
Did I abuse my power? No I am just exercising what had been given to me – a civic-minded citizen. Did I do right? Yes I gave the boys a chance hopefully they will repent. But then again judging from the chants of “NBCCB” ( a popular ah beng hokkien expletive) I guess they will be doing their illegal liaisons somewhere. May we meet again.
MORPHEUS (V.O.): Don't be controlled by your fear, Neo. There are only two ways out of this building. One is that scaffold. The other is in their custody. You take a chance either way. I leave it to you.
MORPHEUS: The Matrix is everywhere, it's all around us, here even in this room. You can see it out your window, or on your television. You feel it when you go to work, or go to church or pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
NEO : What truth?
MORPHEUS : That you are a slave, Neo. That you, like everyone else, was born into bondage...... kept inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind.
Outside, the WIND BATTERS a loose PANE of glass.
MORPHEUS : Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.
MORPHEUS: The Matrix is everywhere, it's all around us, here even in this room. You can see it out your window, or on your television. You feel it when you go to work, or go to church or pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
NEO : What truth?
MORPHEUS : That you are a slave, Neo. That you, like everyone else, was born into bondage...... kept inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind.
Outside, the WIND BATTERS a loose PANE of glass.
MORPHEUS : Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.
I feel so much better that I have done my part as a teacher, as a civil servant upholding the very fabrics of society which is gradually falling apart. First we have people drinking in pub, pole dancing bar top dancing, then we have underaged smoker and then we will have gamblers. Hm.. Not bad for the ingredients for a Mediacorp Channel 8 drama.
In fact my story which I have written can be use for those teenbopper drama which tell people about students in Singapore
So who should I cast? Hm letting my imagination run wild a bit.. and here it is....
In fact my story which I have written can be use for those teenbopper drama which tell people about students in Singapore
So who should I cast? Hm letting my imagination run wild a bit.. and here it is....
Introducing the cast…
As I mention I tried to be as realistic as possible and I think out of the stable of Singapore artiste these can really portray the characters well.
What do you think? (:P)
As I mention I tried to be as realistic as possible and I think out of the stable of Singapore artiste these can really portray the characters well.
What do you think? (:P)
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
If the World...
If the world come to an end the next day
I would still have today
Twenty-four hours or a thousand odd minutes
of thousand of seconds eighty-six and four
How will I spend the time?
Let me count the ways
With friends and family, to cheer the last goodbyes
To drive to the seaside to watch the setting sun
To call the friends that I had hurted
An act of apology and some kind words
Maybe a case of too little too late
To wait till the very last day
Showing appreciation at this point of time
Clear the grudges
Smile and face the world
For there is nothing unbearable
in a expired state of existence
If life can be better and happier
Why must one make it worse?
If the world come to an end the next day
I would still have today
Twenty-four hours or a thousand odd minutes
of thousand of seconds eighty-six and four
How will I spend the time?
Let me count the ways
With friends and family, to cheer the last goodbyes
To drive to the seaside to watch the setting sun
To call the friends that I had hurted
An act of apology and some kind words
Maybe a case of too little too late
To wait till the very last day
Showing appreciation at this point of time
Clear the grudges
Smile and face the world
For there is nothing unbearable
in a expired state of existence
If life can be better and happier
Why must one make it worse?
Monday, April 18, 2005
The Role of Man and Woman
Saw this very interesting thing about Man and Woman. Please note especially to those under 18, there are Mature content and sensitive content in it. But of course if you can take it in good spirit I guess this would be an enjoyable read.
I know my job and I own up to it, I learned the hard way - but I own up to it now. My job is to be decisive when you say "what do you want to do tonight?" My job is NOT to say, "I dunno, what do you want to do?" It is my job to say, "I would like to [verb here] to [insert place] and [activity here]. Yet, I must also know when you have your own idea and actually want me to say, "I don't know, what about you?" How should I know? That's my job as a man. I must know. I do know.
My job is to pay for dinner even if you say you want to pay half. My job is to be ambitious in my career and make enough money that if we live together and your career takes a turn for the worse - I would have the money to afford to keep you fed and healthy AND sexy (we will talk about you being sexy below).
My job is make you feel safe with me. If I have to act like a psycho killer once in a while when someone is being threatening around you and endangering your well being, even if it means I might end up in jail for the night (when I break his arm and jaw for trying to rape you), I do it. Yet I need to know when to be cool and aloof most of the time when you are just engaged in friendly flirting. I have to NOT feel threatened when guys stare at you, not be jealous when they flirt, not be insecure when you flirt back, just relax and enjoy your happiness. Ok? I figured it out. I know. I am not jealous by nature so this job is easy. But the moment a guy mistakes one of your signals (which happens because you don't quite realize all the signals you give off) and starts trying to do something to you against your will, I need to be ready to be incarcerated after I make him sorry. That's fine. Hopefully it will never get that far and my sharp tongue will scare him off, but I know what I am supposed to do if it does get that far and I will tell the judge that I had to break the guys ribs because it was my job. I recognize that obligation. I agree to it every day when I put my pants on, or when we take a photo and you have to lean into me (we know who is who). I don't lean into you. We don't have photos of me sitting in your lap.
(Mature Content M 18) My job is to intuit, using my sexual psychic powers, when you need to be “objectified”, and when you need gentle love like what you saw in that romantic movie you watched. I work hard for you. And somehow, most of the time, I have to figure all this out without anything but your body language and your subtle female hints. Fine, it may not be easy, but I accept it and I do my best because this is how it works.
It is also my job to be funny and entertaining yet a little dark and mysterious at times. Don't ask me how either. But, I can do it. You can't teach that by the way. God forbid you should be able to figure me out entirely. Your boredom means the end of good sex, orgasm and eventually the relationship. Or it just means the beginning of the nagging and bitching, which neither of us want. I realize that. I accept that. I have to be your clown, yet keep your respect. Get you to laugh at me, but not reduce my prowess in your eyes. It is a fine line. It is my job to walk it and know how to keep mystery alive, maintain your respect and awe of me as a man and at the same time make you smile when you need it and keep things light when you get too lost in your intensity.
It is also my job to make you feel comfortable to express yourself to me, to listen, to show you I care (without ever caring too much). I have to care for you and show love without ever making you feel that I am more sensitive than you, more emotional, more emotionally intelligent, sweeter or more romantic. If I cross those lines, you will run from me and say I am too nice - or just not feel complete because I am walking in your territory as a woman. Again, that's fine with me. I know the line, I will walk on the right side of it and I will accept responsibility when I screw up. I will be your listener and still ignore you at the right time. I can figure out what to do when, or at least accept that it is my job to figure that out. Call me a multi-tasker. I recognize that sometimes you need to be told to shut up and put in your place or sent to your room, but still left to feel like you can express yourself freely to the guy (me) who loves you. No one taught me that. I had to figure it out.
And when you get into a car accident, and the guy you hit is yelling at you and you call me on the cell phone, I need to be able to drop what I am doing and effectively manage whatever tragedy has occurred. Sure, you can do it yourself - you might even resent girls who are helpless in such situations - I am not criticizing your skill set here at all. I am just saying that when tragedy goes down, and [if] you are in need of help, I need to take care of it. The relationship requires that I be able to stay calm and solve problems when you can't. And you know you can smell fear in a man. If you catch the slightest hint that I am just as intimidated by the tragedy as you are, forget it, I will sit in your lap for the next photo. Of course there are tragedies where you need to take charge - I will cover that in a few minutes.
Now in exchange for me doing my job well and keeping our relationship alive and well, you will have to do your part as well. If one of us fails to perform his/her role, the arrangement crumbles and I become an a****** and/or you become a nagging b****. I know. I have seen it on TV, in the grocery store on a Saturday morning, in restaurants etc... It's all around us. All the couples fighting - where you can just feel their bitter energy and you know they are doomed - that’s why. One of them did not step up and the relationship is crumbling. And you say, "no, maybe it was something else." Perhaps. But most likely it is what I am talking about here.
Now you: There are many jobs for you. Your first and last job are the same. The rest of the list is important too, but they don't work if you don’t do your first job first. Your first job is to be sexy in the way that you can be. It is your job to discover your own natural sexiness, manifest it, AND your job to figure out what I think is sexy. How do you normally attract men? If you think it is by wearing your thong above your jeans so that everyone can see it - then you are a moron. If you think it is getting wasted at some club and making out with your best girl-friend while guys cheer - you are an idiot. I have met you already, you bore me. I think you need to pull your pants up, drink less, bathe more and try to be more original than the Girls Gone Wild video that your former boyfriends got boners watching.
I have heard girls get upset about this. They say, "it is not my job to be sexy all the time," or "It is not my job to meet your definitions of sexy." And I say, b*******. Have you never stepped outside? Who raised you? It IS your job. It may not be your job to be sexy ALL the time, but you better believe it is your job to be sexy when you are around me, my friends, our friends, and the neighbors. I am not saying you have to dress up, I am only saying you need to figure out where/what and how to create your sexiness and make sure I agree with it. Sure you can have your off-days where you don't change your underwear until noon the following day, or you are bloated and gassy and you just can not be sexy. That’s ok - I like girls who are real - I will still love you. I know you fart and get acne in strange places sometimes and have all kinds of biological processes that are esoteric to me - those things don't turn me off either, afterall I like real girls. I just ask that you manage and control the things that are in your control. But don't let me catch you eating pork sticks everyday and then complain that your stomach hurts and you have the runs for weeks.
You be sexy. Eat right, wear sexy underwear (which I will gladly buy for you), comb your hair and as you dress in the morning. Ask something like, "Would this look turn my man off if I were giving him head and he were looking at me." or "would my man be proud to walk with me in this outfit?" This question will keep you from dressing like your grandmother, a nun and the lonely lady you work with that, when she shows up in the morning you look at her clothes or hair and murmur, "what is she thinking? And she wonders why no men are attracted to her?" Don't be that woman. You be sexy. Ask the right questions when dressing in the morning.
I want to love the sexy girl who will occasionally be ugly. Not the girl with no taste who once in a while gets lucky and looks nice. Now, I don't want to discourage girls who feel unsexy most of the time. In cases like that - I just ask you to not book me on those days - lets have some away time.
And you need to be able to figure out when not to be sexy, like: when meeting my perverted father, when I am sick in a hospital bed, incapacitated and unable to move, but only able to see that some male interns and you are talking about my condition. At that moment you need to be clinical and NOT sexy; when you are at the dentists office and he is about to put you under (wear ugly stuff), when I am feeling down on life and we go to a party - don't be hot, you are only going to get me to sink lower. Just be nice looking or better yet, suggest that we cancel and have some "us" time.
I can not tell you how to locate your inner sexiness - but I can offer you some advice on how to avoid being unsexy.
Unsexy: always wearing a seamless sports bra, especially girls who don’t play any sports and have no athletic ability (unless complaining and nagging count. I don’t count them). Fine for sporting times or gym time, very sexy when sweaty. But to wear them on a day to day basis because they are comfy is to completely give up on life, or to say "I have a boyfriend now, nothing matters anymore." You do your job and stay sexy and I promise to work-out regularly, keep my cholesterol low, dress well, pluck my ear hairs, get laser hair removal and not to wear my dirty sweat pants. Just you keep your sports bra for work-out time.
Unsexy: Bras with big thick (wide) straps in the back or over the shoulders. That's just weird. Ok, at times it is necessary, like when you are all swollen up from breast feeding and you need more strap-strength to hold your product in place. Or if you have a very large chest. But outside of that, what is wrong with you? Under what assumption are you operating where you concluded that the "nursing" look was sexy? Wear something else - lace is nice.
Unsexy: photos of yourself cramming food in your mouth, or cookies or an alcoholic beverage. Or photos with your mouth gaping open as if you are wasted and screaming at a party. I am out here working out, staying in shape and taking care of myself - for what? For you to cram cookies and beer into your mouth, run around drunk with your jaw hanging open? and take photos? No. We will not date.
Unsexy: Your growing gut. Pooch like Maya Rudolph - very hot. Gut like post high school ex-jock? It is diet time.
Unsexy: panties with little cutesy polka dots on them or any pattern that looks like something a 4 yr old girl would wear at her pajama party. Save those for when you feel puffy and bloated and want to snuggle with your stuffed animals and eat chocolate ice cream.
Sexy: girls who take care of themselves physically and emotionally. Girls who manage aspects of themselves that are in their control. Meaning, I don’t care if you are short, tall or medium, have huge breasts or no breasts, brown hair or red hair, enormous feet or a funny nose - you have little control over what you were given. So I don’t judge those things. I just ask you to take care of what is yours to take care of. Don’t tell me that your ass is fat because that is your body type - and then shovel lasagna down your throat 3 days a week. We have a deal. I will do my part. You do yours. Stay thin - meaning if you are 52 kg - you need to stay around 50 to 53. I like slender girls or muscular or thin or thinner than average. Slender does not equal thick. If you look like Minnie Driver or Kate Winslet - then your excess weight is hot and I love it.
Your other jobs are very important as well. It is your job to nurture. If I am down and not feeling so great, you need to be building me back up. You need to be reading self-help books once in a while and see to it that we are both emotionally balanced. You need to make sure that we both communicate what is bothering us and all that stuff that you women want us to talk about in relationships. I need that. Do your job, I respect it. And when I am not feeling like such a man, you need to find it in yourself, even if you have to fake it, to build me right back into the alpha male that I should be.
Your job is to lean into me when we take a photo - but you should know that.Your job is to find it in yourself to want to do things that the last 3 decades told you were not women's work. You know - the huge double standard - how you were taught that it isn't your job to do anything that your dad expected your mom to do, yet you still expect me to open doors for you, fuck you like the world is ending, be strong, buy you nice things when I can, make money, jump in front of a bullet for you, provide security for you, take initiative and make you feel safe. Well you don’t get it both ways. I told you I would do my job. You must do yours. Personally, I like to cook and clean, do my own laundry and wash dishes and I am not asking you to do ANYTHING for me. But if I need help in that area - you better put on an apron and cook some food, or make the bed, or offer to make sandwiches on rare occasions when my friends are over, or do some laundry or fold something, sweep - whatever because you WANT to do it. Again, I am not asking you to do those things, I will do them myself when they need doing. Your job is not to be my maid at all, your job is to WANT to care for me in those ways and/or offer or just jump in and help when I am doing it myself. I will help you too - but don't refuse to do stuff because you feel offended because you learned in your college class that men oppress women. Personally, I only know oppressed men and frustrated women. Men afraid to be men and women who are frustrated with them.
But its harder than that. And you can blame your feminist aunt. You have to figure out how to be all that while also being modern and knowing how to hang with the guys. Don’t ask me to explain that - I would not know how to pull it off. But I have some touch jobs to do that I cant explain either.
You do that, and when the guy is shooting at us I will take the bullet. When the bad man is attacking you, I will make him sorry. When you wreck your car - I will get it fixed. When you break your leg, I will carry you to the hospital. When the heater doesn't work, I will chop wood. But believe me, if you refuse to do your part you can walk yourself to the hospital with a broken leg and bullet in your chest while fleeing the bad guy - because I will have left you.
Your job is to be in charge of our morality. If we are at a dinner party and I say something a little mean to someone and you notice it. It is your job to pull me aside and say, "that was wrong - you go and apologize because you hurt that persons feelings." I won't like it - but I will obey. You are doing your job and I respect it. I will somehow find a way to go apologize.
You are in charge of the our emotional health. Even if I say I am fine. When you notice that I have some unresolved issue that I need to work on, I have to listen and do whatever it takes - even if it means seeing a therapist or counseling or reading some stupid book. You are in charge and you must find a way to do this without ever being bossy or over-critical. How do you do that? I don’t know. It's a tough job and only you can do it. My job is not easy either.
When we are having friends over for dinner and I say that it doesn't matter if everyone has matching napkins and you say it does matter. You better believe we will have matching napkins.
When I feel like not going to the new stupid shit museum and you think that it is better than me sitting around the house on Saturday playing with my computer - you better believe my ass will be going with you to the museum and with a smile on my face.You will also select my clothing when we shop. And I will obey, pay and wear it - whether I like it or not. You will pick out my cologne, my soap, my whatever, to meet your tastes.
Your job is to rule all of the things you can rule, by using my love for you against me, by teaching me shame for wrong-doing, by communicating what is in your heart - and whatever, without ever nagging, being a non-sexy b****, emasculating me or smothering me. It’s a fine line - but you must walk it.
I will enforce my power by giving you verbal commands to which you will obey. You will enforce your power by giving me the guilt/shame stare or the silent resolute, refuse to look at me stance - both of which usually will trump all my power. I respect your power, you respect mine.
Ripped and editted for Under 18 consumption fromhttp://bitchbert.blogspot.com/ who credited it to Craig atrestlesstwist@gmail.com
Saw this very interesting thing about Man and Woman. Please note especially to those under 18, there are Mature content and sensitive content in it. But of course if you can take it in good spirit I guess this would be an enjoyable read.
I know my job and I own up to it, I learned the hard way - but I own up to it now. My job is to be decisive when you say "what do you want to do tonight?" My job is NOT to say, "I dunno, what do you want to do?" It is my job to say, "I would like to [verb here] to [insert place] and [activity here]. Yet, I must also know when you have your own idea and actually want me to say, "I don't know, what about you?" How should I know? That's my job as a man. I must know. I do know.
My job is to pay for dinner even if you say you want to pay half. My job is to be ambitious in my career and make enough money that if we live together and your career takes a turn for the worse - I would have the money to afford to keep you fed and healthy AND sexy (we will talk about you being sexy below).
My job is make you feel safe with me. If I have to act like a psycho killer once in a while when someone is being threatening around you and endangering your well being, even if it means I might end up in jail for the night (when I break his arm and jaw for trying to rape you), I do it. Yet I need to know when to be cool and aloof most of the time when you are just engaged in friendly flirting. I have to NOT feel threatened when guys stare at you, not be jealous when they flirt, not be insecure when you flirt back, just relax and enjoy your happiness. Ok? I figured it out. I know. I am not jealous by nature so this job is easy. But the moment a guy mistakes one of your signals (which happens because you don't quite realize all the signals you give off) and starts trying to do something to you against your will, I need to be ready to be incarcerated after I make him sorry. That's fine. Hopefully it will never get that far and my sharp tongue will scare him off, but I know what I am supposed to do if it does get that far and I will tell the judge that I had to break the guys ribs because it was my job. I recognize that obligation. I agree to it every day when I put my pants on, or when we take a photo and you have to lean into me (we know who is who). I don't lean into you. We don't have photos of me sitting in your lap.
(Mature Content M 18) My job is to intuit, using my sexual psychic powers, when you need to be “objectified”, and when you need gentle love like what you saw in that romantic movie you watched. I work hard for you. And somehow, most of the time, I have to figure all this out without anything but your body language and your subtle female hints. Fine, it may not be easy, but I accept it and I do my best because this is how it works.
It is also my job to be funny and entertaining yet a little dark and mysterious at times. Don't ask me how either. But, I can do it. You can't teach that by the way. God forbid you should be able to figure me out entirely. Your boredom means the end of good sex, orgasm and eventually the relationship. Or it just means the beginning of the nagging and bitching, which neither of us want. I realize that. I accept that. I have to be your clown, yet keep your respect. Get you to laugh at me, but not reduce my prowess in your eyes. It is a fine line. It is my job to walk it and know how to keep mystery alive, maintain your respect and awe of me as a man and at the same time make you smile when you need it and keep things light when you get too lost in your intensity.
It is also my job to make you feel comfortable to express yourself to me, to listen, to show you I care (without ever caring too much). I have to care for you and show love without ever making you feel that I am more sensitive than you, more emotional, more emotionally intelligent, sweeter or more romantic. If I cross those lines, you will run from me and say I am too nice - or just not feel complete because I am walking in your territory as a woman. Again, that's fine with me. I know the line, I will walk on the right side of it and I will accept responsibility when I screw up. I will be your listener and still ignore you at the right time. I can figure out what to do when, or at least accept that it is my job to figure that out. Call me a multi-tasker. I recognize that sometimes you need to be told to shut up and put in your place or sent to your room, but still left to feel like you can express yourself freely to the guy (me) who loves you. No one taught me that. I had to figure it out.
And when you get into a car accident, and the guy you hit is yelling at you and you call me on the cell phone, I need to be able to drop what I am doing and effectively manage whatever tragedy has occurred. Sure, you can do it yourself - you might even resent girls who are helpless in such situations - I am not criticizing your skill set here at all. I am just saying that when tragedy goes down, and [if] you are in need of help, I need to take care of it. The relationship requires that I be able to stay calm and solve problems when you can't. And you know you can smell fear in a man. If you catch the slightest hint that I am just as intimidated by the tragedy as you are, forget it, I will sit in your lap for the next photo. Of course there are tragedies where you need to take charge - I will cover that in a few minutes.
Now in exchange for me doing my job well and keeping our relationship alive and well, you will have to do your part as well. If one of us fails to perform his/her role, the arrangement crumbles and I become an a****** and/or you become a nagging b****. I know. I have seen it on TV, in the grocery store on a Saturday morning, in restaurants etc... It's all around us. All the couples fighting - where you can just feel their bitter energy and you know they are doomed - that’s why. One of them did not step up and the relationship is crumbling. And you say, "no, maybe it was something else." Perhaps. But most likely it is what I am talking about here.
Now you: There are many jobs for you. Your first and last job are the same. The rest of the list is important too, but they don't work if you don’t do your first job first. Your first job is to be sexy in the way that you can be. It is your job to discover your own natural sexiness, manifest it, AND your job to figure out what I think is sexy. How do you normally attract men? If you think it is by wearing your thong above your jeans so that everyone can see it - then you are a moron. If you think it is getting wasted at some club and making out with your best girl-friend while guys cheer - you are an idiot. I have met you already, you bore me. I think you need to pull your pants up, drink less, bathe more and try to be more original than the Girls Gone Wild video that your former boyfriends got boners watching.
I have heard girls get upset about this. They say, "it is not my job to be sexy all the time," or "It is not my job to meet your definitions of sexy." And I say, b*******. Have you never stepped outside? Who raised you? It IS your job. It may not be your job to be sexy ALL the time, but you better believe it is your job to be sexy when you are around me, my friends, our friends, and the neighbors. I am not saying you have to dress up, I am only saying you need to figure out where/what and how to create your sexiness and make sure I agree with it. Sure you can have your off-days where you don't change your underwear until noon the following day, or you are bloated and gassy and you just can not be sexy. That’s ok - I like girls who are real - I will still love you. I know you fart and get acne in strange places sometimes and have all kinds of biological processes that are esoteric to me - those things don't turn me off either, afterall I like real girls. I just ask that you manage and control the things that are in your control. But don't let me catch you eating pork sticks everyday and then complain that your stomach hurts and you have the runs for weeks.
You be sexy. Eat right, wear sexy underwear (which I will gladly buy for you), comb your hair and as you dress in the morning. Ask something like, "Would this look turn my man off if I were giving him head and he were looking at me." or "would my man be proud to walk with me in this outfit?" This question will keep you from dressing like your grandmother, a nun and the lonely lady you work with that, when she shows up in the morning you look at her clothes or hair and murmur, "what is she thinking? And she wonders why no men are attracted to her?" Don't be that woman. You be sexy. Ask the right questions when dressing in the morning.
I want to love the sexy girl who will occasionally be ugly. Not the girl with no taste who once in a while gets lucky and looks nice. Now, I don't want to discourage girls who feel unsexy most of the time. In cases like that - I just ask you to not book me on those days - lets have some away time.
And you need to be able to figure out when not to be sexy, like: when meeting my perverted father, when I am sick in a hospital bed, incapacitated and unable to move, but only able to see that some male interns and you are talking about my condition. At that moment you need to be clinical and NOT sexy; when you are at the dentists office and he is about to put you under (wear ugly stuff), when I am feeling down on life and we go to a party - don't be hot, you are only going to get me to sink lower. Just be nice looking or better yet, suggest that we cancel and have some "us" time.
I can not tell you how to locate your inner sexiness - but I can offer you some advice on how to avoid being unsexy.
Unsexy: always wearing a seamless sports bra, especially girls who don’t play any sports and have no athletic ability (unless complaining and nagging count. I don’t count them). Fine for sporting times or gym time, very sexy when sweaty. But to wear them on a day to day basis because they are comfy is to completely give up on life, or to say "I have a boyfriend now, nothing matters anymore." You do your job and stay sexy and I promise to work-out regularly, keep my cholesterol low, dress well, pluck my ear hairs, get laser hair removal and not to wear my dirty sweat pants. Just you keep your sports bra for work-out time.
Unsexy: Bras with big thick (wide) straps in the back or over the shoulders. That's just weird. Ok, at times it is necessary, like when you are all swollen up from breast feeding and you need more strap-strength to hold your product in place. Or if you have a very large chest. But outside of that, what is wrong with you? Under what assumption are you operating where you concluded that the "nursing" look was sexy? Wear something else - lace is nice.
Unsexy: photos of yourself cramming food in your mouth, or cookies or an alcoholic beverage. Or photos with your mouth gaping open as if you are wasted and screaming at a party. I am out here working out, staying in shape and taking care of myself - for what? For you to cram cookies and beer into your mouth, run around drunk with your jaw hanging open? and take photos? No. We will not date.
Unsexy: Your growing gut. Pooch like Maya Rudolph - very hot. Gut like post high school ex-jock? It is diet time.
Unsexy: panties with little cutesy polka dots on them or any pattern that looks like something a 4 yr old girl would wear at her pajama party. Save those for when you feel puffy and bloated and want to snuggle with your stuffed animals and eat chocolate ice cream.
Sexy: girls who take care of themselves physically and emotionally. Girls who manage aspects of themselves that are in their control. Meaning, I don’t care if you are short, tall or medium, have huge breasts or no breasts, brown hair or red hair, enormous feet or a funny nose - you have little control over what you were given. So I don’t judge those things. I just ask you to take care of what is yours to take care of. Don’t tell me that your ass is fat because that is your body type - and then shovel lasagna down your throat 3 days a week. We have a deal. I will do my part. You do yours. Stay thin - meaning if you are 52 kg - you need to stay around 50 to 53. I like slender girls or muscular or thin or thinner than average. Slender does not equal thick. If you look like Minnie Driver or Kate Winslet - then your excess weight is hot and I love it.
Your other jobs are very important as well. It is your job to nurture. If I am down and not feeling so great, you need to be building me back up. You need to be reading self-help books once in a while and see to it that we are both emotionally balanced. You need to make sure that we both communicate what is bothering us and all that stuff that you women want us to talk about in relationships. I need that. Do your job, I respect it. And when I am not feeling like such a man, you need to find it in yourself, even if you have to fake it, to build me right back into the alpha male that I should be.
Your job is to lean into me when we take a photo - but you should know that.Your job is to find it in yourself to want to do things that the last 3 decades told you were not women's work. You know - the huge double standard - how you were taught that it isn't your job to do anything that your dad expected your mom to do, yet you still expect me to open doors for you, fuck you like the world is ending, be strong, buy you nice things when I can, make money, jump in front of a bullet for you, provide security for you, take initiative and make you feel safe. Well you don’t get it both ways. I told you I would do my job. You must do yours. Personally, I like to cook and clean, do my own laundry and wash dishes and I am not asking you to do ANYTHING for me. But if I need help in that area - you better put on an apron and cook some food, or make the bed, or offer to make sandwiches on rare occasions when my friends are over, or do some laundry or fold something, sweep - whatever because you WANT to do it. Again, I am not asking you to do those things, I will do them myself when they need doing. Your job is not to be my maid at all, your job is to WANT to care for me in those ways and/or offer or just jump in and help when I am doing it myself. I will help you too - but don't refuse to do stuff because you feel offended because you learned in your college class that men oppress women. Personally, I only know oppressed men and frustrated women. Men afraid to be men and women who are frustrated with them.
But its harder than that. And you can blame your feminist aunt. You have to figure out how to be all that while also being modern and knowing how to hang with the guys. Don’t ask me to explain that - I would not know how to pull it off. But I have some touch jobs to do that I cant explain either.
You do that, and when the guy is shooting at us I will take the bullet. When the bad man is attacking you, I will make him sorry. When you wreck your car - I will get it fixed. When you break your leg, I will carry you to the hospital. When the heater doesn't work, I will chop wood. But believe me, if you refuse to do your part you can walk yourself to the hospital with a broken leg and bullet in your chest while fleeing the bad guy - because I will have left you.
Your job is to be in charge of our morality. If we are at a dinner party and I say something a little mean to someone and you notice it. It is your job to pull me aside and say, "that was wrong - you go and apologize because you hurt that persons feelings." I won't like it - but I will obey. You are doing your job and I respect it. I will somehow find a way to go apologize.
You are in charge of the our emotional health. Even if I say I am fine. When you notice that I have some unresolved issue that I need to work on, I have to listen and do whatever it takes - even if it means seeing a therapist or counseling or reading some stupid book. You are in charge and you must find a way to do this without ever being bossy or over-critical. How do you do that? I don’t know. It's a tough job and only you can do it. My job is not easy either.
When we are having friends over for dinner and I say that it doesn't matter if everyone has matching napkins and you say it does matter. You better believe we will have matching napkins.
When I feel like not going to the new stupid shit museum and you think that it is better than me sitting around the house on Saturday playing with my computer - you better believe my ass will be going with you to the museum and with a smile on my face.You will also select my clothing when we shop. And I will obey, pay and wear it - whether I like it or not. You will pick out my cologne, my soap, my whatever, to meet your tastes.
Your job is to rule all of the things you can rule, by using my love for you against me, by teaching me shame for wrong-doing, by communicating what is in your heart - and whatever, without ever nagging, being a non-sexy b****, emasculating me or smothering me. It’s a fine line - but you must walk it.
I will enforce my power by giving you verbal commands to which you will obey. You will enforce your power by giving me the guilt/shame stare or the silent resolute, refuse to look at me stance - both of which usually will trump all my power. I respect your power, you respect mine.
Ripped and editted for Under 18 consumption fromhttp://bitchbert.blogspot.com/ who credited it to Craig atrestlesstwist@gmail.com
The scholars castes
Singapore in not a communist country- and that is a fact not a myth. Singapore values talents and would do anything to make sure that the talents are well utilized for all purposes, especially economic. Made me feel a little more than a piece of pork hanging above the butcher table. Intriguing that is to say, Singapore do try to help the people who are really willing to serve the country by providing them with a good scholarship to keep the brain drain. Well this is what I am interested to talk about- reading through some elite ex-JC students' blogs had sparked off my interest in this topic.
A number had mentioned about applying/applied/succeeded in clinching scholarships from the PSC or other govt agencies such as firefly, dsta, a-star, gic etc. (not Codenames for the Army Mobilisation but really legitimate ministry organizations) It's very easy to know actually - 1. Ascertain they were from the top JCs 2. Click on the archives 3. Focus on the dates: Mar (that's when the A levels scores are released; many of these folks would be scoring lotsa As), Apr - Jun (this is the scholarship interview season), Jul - Oct (they would be writing about which one of their friends is going to which university and how they are settling in etc)Is it for money and prestige? As a show-off? I certainly think it is a combination of all three. Given the astronomical costs of a degree course in UK/US nowadays, not many people can afford to go on their own. The Singapore society also gives recognition (as well as a strong sense of jealousy if you happen to belong to the have-nots) for being a gahmen scholar.
Sad to say,in Singapore, we had a caste system akin to that of India: Right on top of the caste system are Government Scholars with their academic degrees fully paid for by the state (this is further differentiated between overseas and local scholars) This group is divided into 2 sub-castes namely the free-spirited overseas scholars who go to places like Harvard and with a higher tendency to stay there to pursue a professorship when the going get tough. The other sub-caste are the local scholars who studied in the National university of Singapore or the Nanyang Technological University who pretty much have their “po-tay-to” and “po-tah-to” distinguished.
A lesser caste are the ordinary self-funded graduates (again with several classes) this is also divided into 4 subcastes – those in top overseas universities (because Lao peh (father) got money), those in local universities (because Lao peh got some money but want to use CPF instead), local universities' rejects and being forced to go overseas (you may have cases where top overseas universities accept them but NUS/NTU/SMU rejected them) (where lao peh may or may not have money but still… anyway) and locally based distance learning degree program attendees (most likely they are local universities' rejects but do not want/unable to afford to go overseas) (because lao peh got no money or the sudent don’t want to use lao peh’s money)Sad to say that right at the bottom of this caste system are these three groups namely the Poly diploma/A level holders, ITE graduates and finally Pri/Sec/ITE school dropouts. Some of you might be inclined to add in people with no education, illiterate but I must say that this group is fast becoming extinct in Singapore and thus have no impact in this observations.
The interesting about the Singapore caste system is that people can move from caste to caste. That’s when the beauty of meritocracy come into place. But sad to say the minute that you are borne to this world, there is already an expectation of the things that you have to do, have to achieve. We are in a society where we need to understand that we are merely pawn in the structure, the energy cells for the robots in the Matrix. We all need to fulfill our roles. In fact we are forcibily placed into our caste as a result of our economic status. We can’t inherit wealth, likewise your parents can’t pass down their wealth but what they can do is to try to convert the wealth to educational credits, to give you a good education so that you can perpetuate the wealth yourself. Which of course came with the warped theory that the rich get richer and the poor, well they can get rich, with years of hard work and of course a wager at the casinos, or a lucky tip at the totos.
So what is the point I am trying to make here. Much as I want to talk about meritocracy in Singapore which I must admit that it do exist, I have to e the sore loser to say that people do not have the chance to get the social mobility because of the invisible tag hovering over our head which stated the caste that we are in. My view is that let not prejudge, get the ministry official to watch the Matrix. Neo was supposed to be the One and the Oracle said he is not the One, however that doesn’t meant that Morpheus stop thinking that he is the One, and when Trinity need the One, Neo became the One. That is so simple.
(PS if you don’t understand what I say, please go and watch the “Matrix”)
Perhaps we can try to get the ministry to ponder over it… Stop following the caste system like some unalterable rule and let the one with talents the opportunity to achieve, scholars or not.
Then again a public screening of the Matrix may help..
Singapore in not a communist country- and that is a fact not a myth. Singapore values talents and would do anything to make sure that the talents are well utilized for all purposes, especially economic. Made me feel a little more than a piece of pork hanging above the butcher table. Intriguing that is to say, Singapore do try to help the people who are really willing to serve the country by providing them with a good scholarship to keep the brain drain. Well this is what I am interested to talk about- reading through some elite ex-JC students' blogs had sparked off my interest in this topic.
A number had mentioned about applying/applied/succeeded in clinching scholarships from the PSC or other govt agencies such as firefly, dsta, a-star, gic etc. (not Codenames for the Army Mobilisation but really legitimate ministry organizations) It's very easy to know actually - 1. Ascertain they were from the top JCs 2. Click on the archives 3. Focus on the dates: Mar (that's when the A levels scores are released; many of these folks would be scoring lotsa As), Apr - Jun (this is the scholarship interview season), Jul - Oct (they would be writing about which one of their friends is going to which university and how they are settling in etc)Is it for money and prestige? As a show-off? I certainly think it is a combination of all three. Given the astronomical costs of a degree course in UK/US nowadays, not many people can afford to go on their own. The Singapore society also gives recognition (as well as a strong sense of jealousy if you happen to belong to the have-nots) for being a gahmen scholar.
Sad to say,in Singapore, we had a caste system akin to that of India: Right on top of the caste system are Government Scholars with their academic degrees fully paid for by the state (this is further differentiated between overseas and local scholars) This group is divided into 2 sub-castes namely the free-spirited overseas scholars who go to places like Harvard and with a higher tendency to stay there to pursue a professorship when the going get tough. The other sub-caste are the local scholars who studied in the National university of Singapore or the Nanyang Technological University who pretty much have their “po-tay-to” and “po-tah-to” distinguished.
A lesser caste are the ordinary self-funded graduates (again with several classes) this is also divided into 4 subcastes – those in top overseas universities (because Lao peh (father) got money), those in local universities (because Lao peh got some money but want to use CPF instead), local universities' rejects and being forced to go overseas (you may have cases where top overseas universities accept them but NUS/NTU/SMU rejected them) (where lao peh may or may not have money but still… anyway) and locally based distance learning degree program attendees (most likely they are local universities' rejects but do not want/unable to afford to go overseas) (because lao peh got no money or the sudent don’t want to use lao peh’s money)Sad to say that right at the bottom of this caste system are these three groups namely the Poly diploma/A level holders, ITE graduates and finally Pri/Sec/ITE school dropouts. Some of you might be inclined to add in people with no education, illiterate but I must say that this group is fast becoming extinct in Singapore and thus have no impact in this observations.
The interesting about the Singapore caste system is that people can move from caste to caste. That’s when the beauty of meritocracy come into place. But sad to say the minute that you are borne to this world, there is already an expectation of the things that you have to do, have to achieve. We are in a society where we need to understand that we are merely pawn in the structure, the energy cells for the robots in the Matrix. We all need to fulfill our roles. In fact we are forcibily placed into our caste as a result of our economic status. We can’t inherit wealth, likewise your parents can’t pass down their wealth but what they can do is to try to convert the wealth to educational credits, to give you a good education so that you can perpetuate the wealth yourself. Which of course came with the warped theory that the rich get richer and the poor, well they can get rich, with years of hard work and of course a wager at the casinos, or a lucky tip at the totos.
So what is the point I am trying to make here. Much as I want to talk about meritocracy in Singapore which I must admit that it do exist, I have to e the sore loser to say that people do not have the chance to get the social mobility because of the invisible tag hovering over our head which stated the caste that we are in. My view is that let not prejudge, get the ministry official to watch the Matrix. Neo was supposed to be the One and the Oracle said he is not the One, however that doesn’t meant that Morpheus stop thinking that he is the One, and when Trinity need the One, Neo became the One. That is so simple.
(PS if you don’t understand what I say, please go and watch the “Matrix”)
Perhaps we can try to get the ministry to ponder over it… Stop following the caste system like some unalterable rule and let the one with talents the opportunity to achieve, scholars or not.
Then again a public screening of the Matrix may help..
Sunday, April 17, 2005
My Kar
It has been almost a year since I started to drive ( has it been a year already) My well documented if not concise account of my near-death ( to the instructor) hair raising, death defying maneuvers had perhaps illustrated to you how it was to be able to pass at the long awaited 3rd attempt
Since I pass my driving test and gotten the coverted driving license, I started to go to showrooms and looking at cars and stuff. My dad was never a car person, he never got a license and his favourite mode of transport has been the massaging therapeutic bus rides and recently upgraded to the Mass rapid transit. It was after getting the license that I started to ask myself why didn’t I get it earlier. I guess sometimes it was my impatience and bad temper. I remember when I was taking my motorcycle license during my army daze and was unable to clear lesson 4. And I was going like “aiyah why need to get a license, who need to drive anyway?”
As a newly converted car-owner, I have to say that the experience of owning my own car have been nothing short of exciting. Everyday has been a journey. To me it is my own personal space and love shack – mobile
The best thing about owning a car of your own is that the moment I get into my car I am in my own world. I love to drive for long distance, especially in the night when the traffic is less heavy and along the deserted stretched PIE. I am not a speed demon but I enjoyed the time I have for my own as I cruise in my car with the stereo blastin my favourite songs- depending on my moods, it could be a heart wrenching love ballads which remind me of my first love, a soundtrack which allow me to picture the scene of the movie or the music, a chill out lounge music or jazz piece which set me in a relaxed mood. In the car, I am on my own it is my personal space, you know what I mean right? After a hard day of work, I go to my car, start the engine and that is my space on the way home. I also keep my car clean; I send it for polishing once every two months and for a wash every week. I put air freshners in the car and I don’t even fart in it. I can’t say I have never done anything really bad in it, but people have done something bad with it – a slight dent on the backside and the driver side and of course some scratches on the bonnet and the side by some envious green eyed freak who should rot in hell for this indecent act! It hurts to see my car with bruises and cuts, and yes I do find myself walking around the car admiring and inspecting the wounds. Yes I am abit obsessed.
I am also very particular about my prized possession, I try not to let anyone drive it. My wife did try to drive it once but I was pretty irritated with the mistake I made. Firstly since she is still learning and didn’t get her license her driving is freakingly slow and ovr cautious. But then again that what instructors tell all trainees. On top of that, I hated it when I have to readjusted my mirrors and my seat and the whole lot of gadgety stuff after she have use it. Call it “Monica”ish ( from Friends) but I just don’t like people to change the way I do things.
The one thing that I won’t do in the car is perhaps the act of ***. Firstly my 1.6L lancer is far to small with the sticks and knobs at the wrong places. The car is just too small to do anything in. Very uncomfortable but maybe possible, so it is something fairly unlikely.
So what will be my dream car? A dream car would definitely be a BMW 3 series or the 7 series. But of course for that price especially in Singapore it would be totally impractical. Singapore policies of the COE and the ERP and all the money generating policies ( which I believe is helping the country’s GDP) just make it not worth the money to get an expensive car. If I could the Subaru WRX with the ah beng features is something I would like as I think the engine is really fast but then again it is not as though I would speed in the car. With family in mind, I might get an MPV, maybe the Mitsubishi Grandis or even the Honda Odyssey. That’s what I mean by being family oriented.
It has been almost a year since I started to drive ( has it been a year already) My well documented if not concise account of my near-death ( to the instructor) hair raising, death defying maneuvers had perhaps illustrated to you how it was to be able to pass at the long awaited 3rd attempt
Since I pass my driving test and gotten the coverted driving license, I started to go to showrooms and looking at cars and stuff. My dad was never a car person, he never got a license and his favourite mode of transport has been the massaging therapeutic bus rides and recently upgraded to the Mass rapid transit. It was after getting the license that I started to ask myself why didn’t I get it earlier. I guess sometimes it was my impatience and bad temper. I remember when I was taking my motorcycle license during my army daze and was unable to clear lesson 4. And I was going like “aiyah why need to get a license, who need to drive anyway?”
As a newly converted car-owner, I have to say that the experience of owning my own car have been nothing short of exciting. Everyday has been a journey. To me it is my own personal space and love shack – mobile
The best thing about owning a car of your own is that the moment I get into my car I am in my own world. I love to drive for long distance, especially in the night when the traffic is less heavy and along the deserted stretched PIE. I am not a speed demon but I enjoyed the time I have for my own as I cruise in my car with the stereo blastin my favourite songs- depending on my moods, it could be a heart wrenching love ballads which remind me of my first love, a soundtrack which allow me to picture the scene of the movie or the music, a chill out lounge music or jazz piece which set me in a relaxed mood. In the car, I am on my own it is my personal space, you know what I mean right? After a hard day of work, I go to my car, start the engine and that is my space on the way home. I also keep my car clean; I send it for polishing once every two months and for a wash every week. I put air freshners in the car and I don’t even fart in it. I can’t say I have never done anything really bad in it, but people have done something bad with it – a slight dent on the backside and the driver side and of course some scratches on the bonnet and the side by some envious green eyed freak who should rot in hell for this indecent act! It hurts to see my car with bruises and cuts, and yes I do find myself walking around the car admiring and inspecting the wounds. Yes I am abit obsessed.
I am also very particular about my prized possession, I try not to let anyone drive it. My wife did try to drive it once but I was pretty irritated with the mistake I made. Firstly since she is still learning and didn’t get her license her driving is freakingly slow and ovr cautious. But then again that what instructors tell all trainees. On top of that, I hated it when I have to readjusted my mirrors and my seat and the whole lot of gadgety stuff after she have use it. Call it “Monica”ish ( from Friends) but I just don’t like people to change the way I do things.
The one thing that I won’t do in the car is perhaps the act of ***. Firstly my 1.6L lancer is far to small with the sticks and knobs at the wrong places. The car is just too small to do anything in. Very uncomfortable but maybe possible, so it is something fairly unlikely.
So what will be my dream car? A dream car would definitely be a BMW 3 series or the 7 series. But of course for that price especially in Singapore it would be totally impractical. Singapore policies of the COE and the ERP and all the money generating policies ( which I believe is helping the country’s GDP) just make it not worth the money to get an expensive car. If I could the Subaru WRX with the ah beng features is something I would like as I think the engine is really fast but then again it is not as though I would speed in the car. With family in mind, I might get an MPV, maybe the Mitsubishi Grandis or even the Honda Odyssey. That’s what I mean by being family oriented.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
The signs
I have been rather aloof in terms of my relationships with students. Maybe it is at this point of time when I realise that there are needs to focus on more pressing issues at hand. But then again many signs recently had hinted that I should start picking up the strands of relationships with them. I called them signs but I guess some of them were really subtle hints which could be seen and intepreted in many ways
Sign # 1
A wrong turn on the PIE brought me to a familiar place during my ride home after the National Cross Country 2005. Travelling along BKE I reached Chestnut Drive the venue of my Self Awareness Camp this year. Need I Say more
Sign #2
Saw an old friend on the street a couple of days back and he was listening to some music on his I shuffle the latest 512 mb gadget from Apple. With one of the head phones he offers, I could heard the familiar "Hey.... Hey Baby ohh Ahh......"
Sign #3
A girl came to me and ask me questions, not that this is something new, but it is something uncommon recently. Perhaps thinsg have changed with the bit more laughter in class
Sign #4
A cheerful waving when I was driving to school in a rainy morning from a girl in class warmed my heart. Especially when I have not seen that smile for a long time
Maybe it is about time to get back.....
I have been rather aloof in terms of my relationships with students. Maybe it is at this point of time when I realise that there are needs to focus on more pressing issues at hand. But then again many signs recently had hinted that I should start picking up the strands of relationships with them. I called them signs but I guess some of them were really subtle hints which could be seen and intepreted in many ways
Sign # 1
A wrong turn on the PIE brought me to a familiar place during my ride home after the National Cross Country 2005. Travelling along BKE I reached Chestnut Drive the venue of my Self Awareness Camp this year. Need I Say more
Sign #2
Saw an old friend on the street a couple of days back and he was listening to some music on his I shuffle the latest 512 mb gadget from Apple. With one of the head phones he offers, I could heard the familiar "Hey.... Hey Baby ohh Ahh......"
Sign #3
A girl came to me and ask me questions, not that this is something new, but it is something uncommon recently. Perhaps thinsg have changed with the bit more laughter in class
Sign #4
A cheerful waving when I was driving to school in a rainy morning from a girl in class warmed my heart. Especially when I have not seen that smile for a long time
Maybe it is about time to get back.....
Things that pop up…
The issue of respect
A lot of people believe that the intangible entity known as “respect” is an interesting commodity; it is something that has to be earned. I was in a class talking to them about the concept of gratitude and respect and of course in half jest half serious manner I told them that the very fact we are right in front of them teaching already warrant respect. Come on we didn’t go through our 10-14 years of education for nothing. As all my students know, I am peeved by students who walked past a teacher without the decency of greeting. It is like we-are-not-there-thank you!-get-lost attitude of the students which irks me more than anything. As a civil servant who would refraint from using violence and profanities I must say that something it is really way over the limits. Imagine going to class with a funeral procession who greet you like something bad had happen and it could somehow get the idea.
TV educational Programmes
As a teacher, I seldom watch the TV with the exception of a couple of programmes. Teachers generally have no life. Show such as the English premier League and of course the occasional brutal but yet highly entertaining soap-operasy WWE. It is of course no surprise that I am a loyal subscriber of SCV sports channels. But recently I discover that there was another channel which was really fascinating. It was like an information floodgate for me. It was however ironic that I only got to discover what interesting programmes it got to offer after almost 1 and a half year of subscribing. But then again teachers are busy animals with little social life and either type away or mark away their mere existence. Forgive me for being really sore about this, but most of you would know by now the gripes of teaching. In fact if you are still bent on teaching, you are either 1) crazy or 2) idealistic or 3) a mixture of both.
Sorry for the digression but I was talking about this interesting programme on Discovery Channel which I was watching on a lazy Sunday morning ( I was feeling pretty lazy then) It was about a group of suicide bombers from Chechnya which hold a group of 900 odd Russians hostages in an opera house. The stalemate went on for about 3 days and at the end the Russians had to use extreme measures to get the hostages out. The programme revealed insidestories and interview with the rescued hostages and the negotiators. It also documented the way that the Russian FSB (The newer unit to replace the KGB, the Russian Secret Police) dug a small passageway from underneath the theatre to get to the hostages. At the end the mission was a success (the suicide bombers were killed) but the rescue mission was a big failure ( 100 odd hostages were killed in the mission) It seems that the FSB used an gas commonly used for people with terminal cancer to numb the senses and attack the neuro-system. After they were evacuated from the building, the hostages were being dragged out of the building without proper medical care as the ambulances were too far away parked at some corner. Some for the hostages died of suffocation and lack of medication; as the medication were only given to the FSB. What was revealed shockingly was the people unhappiness at Russian President Putin’s unwillingness to negotiate with the terrorists, clearly showing that he was willing to give up lives to ensure political control in Chechnya and this put the President in a very bad light.
The MOE Screw up and the P speech
I cannot how screw up the MOE can be when they decided to turn things around by reverting back to the original system. For those who don’t know what I am talking about, I am referring to the change of the admission programmes to the JCs. The Prelim results now counts! I was sitting during assembly when the P announced this to the Sec 4s. Always priding my short hand and typing ability I did a summarized version of what she say, littered with my own comments. It was an inspiring speech but the response was insipid. Maybe it was the afternoon heat in the furnace liked school hall or the simple sense of resignation…
the speech
You have to treasure the June holidays now that the schedule is pushed forward again. Always work with the premise that you have less time. So sec 4s, I know this have kind of upsetted some of you especially those who want to go to a good JC. Many students realize that they cannot get into the good JC because they could not go to JC. Last year was an anomaly. What you need to do now is to start preparing. Do you know one thing, an analysis of the performances of last year, the key issue is that there is a class which perpetually underperformed for the past . as a class you may be setting yourselves up to be an under-performer. You learn better, you understand your work best when you have to teach it, so don’t withhold. What are we going to do together as a class. If you have the same mindset, you will achieve. So you think about it. Individually I can’t make a difference, a little bit of yeast can make a bread rise. So check your attitude, because you are now laying the foundations. Wat is the rationale, because they are hoping to release the O level results earlier. What that means is that possibly… only possibly the exams going to start earlier!!!!! Which means that you will going to be working much earlier and harder!!! So work consistently throughout the whole year, and next year will be a breeze. Let’s work on the premise that it is going to happen next year. Remember everyone in Singapore is going to be affected. The question is who is stronger up here (in the brain). This is a test of your mental strength.
Inspiring huh? I guess the MOE had been getting a lot of bad reviews, with the types of teachers and the workload and stuff. I also have to make perhaps this unkind comment that the teachers that are coming in , the quality had been declining. They can’t push themselves as hard as the “older ones” and worse they seems to be less proficient in their content and they seems to be lacking in their interpersonal skills such as handling students ad parents. I do know that all this come with experience but I am worried that are we really scrapping the bottom of the barrels. What is going to happen if the teachers that are coming into the profession are going to be worse every batch, that they will need to do the O level paper before admission. Can we then trust our future generation to them or are we going to start recruit foreign talents… Hm an angmoh teaching European history, that would be a novelty? Don’t you think?
The issue of respect
A lot of people believe that the intangible entity known as “respect” is an interesting commodity; it is something that has to be earned. I was in a class talking to them about the concept of gratitude and respect and of course in half jest half serious manner I told them that the very fact we are right in front of them teaching already warrant respect. Come on we didn’t go through our 10-14 years of education for nothing. As all my students know, I am peeved by students who walked past a teacher without the decency of greeting. It is like we-are-not-there-thank you!-get-lost attitude of the students which irks me more than anything. As a civil servant who would refraint from using violence and profanities I must say that something it is really way over the limits. Imagine going to class with a funeral procession who greet you like something bad had happen and it could somehow get the idea.
TV educational Programmes
As a teacher, I seldom watch the TV with the exception of a couple of programmes. Teachers generally have no life. Show such as the English premier League and of course the occasional brutal but yet highly entertaining soap-operasy WWE. It is of course no surprise that I am a loyal subscriber of SCV sports channels. But recently I discover that there was another channel which was really fascinating. It was like an information floodgate for me. It was however ironic that I only got to discover what interesting programmes it got to offer after almost 1 and a half year of subscribing. But then again teachers are busy animals with little social life and either type away or mark away their mere existence. Forgive me for being really sore about this, but most of you would know by now the gripes of teaching. In fact if you are still bent on teaching, you are either 1) crazy or 2) idealistic or 3) a mixture of both.
Sorry for the digression but I was talking about this interesting programme on Discovery Channel which I was watching on a lazy Sunday morning ( I was feeling pretty lazy then) It was about a group of suicide bombers from Chechnya which hold a group of 900 odd Russians hostages in an opera house. The stalemate went on for about 3 days and at the end the Russians had to use extreme measures to get the hostages out. The programme revealed insidestories and interview with the rescued hostages and the negotiators. It also documented the way that the Russian FSB (The newer unit to replace the KGB, the Russian Secret Police) dug a small passageway from underneath the theatre to get to the hostages. At the end the mission was a success (the suicide bombers were killed) but the rescue mission was a big failure ( 100 odd hostages were killed in the mission) It seems that the FSB used an gas commonly used for people with terminal cancer to numb the senses and attack the neuro-system. After they were evacuated from the building, the hostages were being dragged out of the building without proper medical care as the ambulances were too far away parked at some corner. Some for the hostages died of suffocation and lack of medication; as the medication were only given to the FSB. What was revealed shockingly was the people unhappiness at Russian President Putin’s unwillingness to negotiate with the terrorists, clearly showing that he was willing to give up lives to ensure political control in Chechnya and this put the President in a very bad light.
The MOE Screw up and the P speech
I cannot how screw up the MOE can be when they decided to turn things around by reverting back to the original system. For those who don’t know what I am talking about, I am referring to the change of the admission programmes to the JCs. The Prelim results now counts! I was sitting during assembly when the P announced this to the Sec 4s. Always priding my short hand and typing ability I did a summarized version of what she say, littered with my own comments. It was an inspiring speech but the response was insipid. Maybe it was the afternoon heat in the furnace liked school hall or the simple sense of resignation…
the speech
You have to treasure the June holidays now that the schedule is pushed forward again. Always work with the premise that you have less time. So sec 4s, I know this have kind of upsetted some of you especially those who want to go to a good JC. Many students realize that they cannot get into the good JC because they could not go to JC. Last year was an anomaly. What you need to do now is to start preparing. Do you know one thing, an analysis of the performances of last year, the key issue is that there is a class which perpetually underperformed for the past . as a class you may be setting yourselves up to be an under-performer. You learn better, you understand your work best when you have to teach it, so don’t withhold. What are we going to do together as a class. If you have the same mindset, you will achieve. So you think about it. Individually I can’t make a difference, a little bit of yeast can make a bread rise. So check your attitude, because you are now laying the foundations. Wat is the rationale, because they are hoping to release the O level results earlier. What that means is that possibly… only possibly the exams going to start earlier!!!!! Which means that you will going to be working much earlier and harder!!! So work consistently throughout the whole year, and next year will be a breeze. Let’s work on the premise that it is going to happen next year. Remember everyone in Singapore is going to be affected. The question is who is stronger up here (in the brain). This is a test of your mental strength.
Inspiring huh? I guess the MOE had been getting a lot of bad reviews, with the types of teachers and the workload and stuff. I also have to make perhaps this unkind comment that the teachers that are coming in , the quality had been declining. They can’t push themselves as hard as the “older ones” and worse they seems to be less proficient in their content and they seems to be lacking in their interpersonal skills such as handling students ad parents. I do know that all this come with experience but I am worried that are we really scrapping the bottom of the barrels. What is going to happen if the teachers that are coming into the profession are going to be worse every batch, that they will need to do the O level paper before admission. Can we then trust our future generation to them or are we going to start recruit foreign talents… Hm an angmoh teaching European history, that would be a novelty? Don’t you think?
Let's talk about unfairness
Recently I have been reserving my caustic opinions due to
1) tiredness
2) lethargy and
3) plain laziness.
But I realized that I have been pretty preoccupied on some of the things that made me lose the distinctiveness of the blog- remember U once say that it will be an organ to complain and talk about MY UNHAPPINESS on issues which I feel totally DISGUSTED about.. Maybe I have been too bust to have an opinion. (If there is a description for that) But then again, the interesting thing about Singaporeans as compared to Israelis is that "Israel has five million people, six million entrepreneurs and 15 million opinions. Singapore has five million people, six entrepreneurs and one opinion.". So I guess we need to take risk a little But we have to be careful, just like on a traffic junction, it is not the Red Man, Green Man, but the White Man you need to look out for.
As the teacher in charge of the Track and Field team in a top school in Singapore ( anyway what the heck! All of you know what school I am from) It is perhaps sickening to know that we will be busy scavenging for the second and third or even fourth place come the July National School championships. I spend the whole Saturday afternoon at the National Junior Championships and there is this particular elitist school which is dominating the sport scene, Call me a sore loser if you like but I feel that it is really playing on unfair grounds. Many people had been crying out loud (which account for the bad rain recently) on the unfairness that the Sport School’s domination had become. but then again I digress. What is the very point of asking the student to compete when we know that the SSS (Triple ASS if you would put it) is going to sweep the championships. They have become the team that everyone love to hate and people that everyone are clamouring to beat. People just hate winners but I believe that this is just another display of elitism.
But then again, having the sport schools had its merits. Singapore had been trying in vain to create the next generation of local athletes without depending on foreigners, maybe it would be a good start, but I shuddered at the fact that people would start to pigeonhole talents especially with the formation of elitist schools like this.
Talking about the SSS, these people train a shocking eleven times a week and they have physios, nutritionists, coaches, assistant coaches, team managers, pom pom carrying cheerleading parents ( who literally screams their lungs out every time and of course busting the ear drums of the innocent spectators who were there watching a good race). I am not saying that it is wrong to be good but to really “unlevel” the level playing field especially at their teenage years is something totally unfair and unexpectable.
Do not get me wrong, I am not against elitism, just to make sure that democratic fanatics are going to chastise and put me on a cross on the remarks that smacks/reeks of communism. I am a believer of meritocracy and this issue of fairness but it is already an uphill battle trying to get committed students to spend their afternoons training/running on the rubber tracks and it will not help if another school were to come along offering more money, more opportunities for your kids who have natural athletic ability. But then again where does this put the rest of the schools- second and third fiddles, or really just a sad admission to the rest of the schools that your kids are just not good enough? What type of messages are we giving to the kids? Are we going to teach and expose the kids to elitism at such an age when they will experience it in the rest of the working life and existence? The experiential process of fast ageing is something that I do not ascribe to. Perhaps the thrill of being the underdog and beating the “S***” of the SSS will be the mantra of the rest of the athletic community. Is that the kind of patriotism we want to inculcate in the students of Singapore?
I don’t really have an answer for it, Maybe I am just a sore loser trying to verbalise my bruised ego of a lack of athletic ability...
Recently I have been reserving my caustic opinions due to
1) tiredness
2) lethargy and
3) plain laziness.
But I realized that I have been pretty preoccupied on some of the things that made me lose the distinctiveness of the blog- remember U once say that it will be an organ to complain and talk about MY UNHAPPINESS on issues which I feel totally DISGUSTED about.. Maybe I have been too bust to have an opinion. (If there is a description for that) But then again, the interesting thing about Singaporeans as compared to Israelis is that "Israel has five million people, six million entrepreneurs and 15 million opinions. Singapore has five million people, six entrepreneurs and one opinion.". So I guess we need to take risk a little But we have to be careful, just like on a traffic junction, it is not the Red Man, Green Man, but the White Man you need to look out for.
As the teacher in charge of the Track and Field team in a top school in Singapore ( anyway what the heck! All of you know what school I am from) It is perhaps sickening to know that we will be busy scavenging for the second and third or even fourth place come the July National School championships. I spend the whole Saturday afternoon at the National Junior Championships and there is this particular elitist school which is dominating the sport scene, Call me a sore loser if you like but I feel that it is really playing on unfair grounds. Many people had been crying out loud (which account for the bad rain recently) on the unfairness that the Sport School’s domination had become. but then again I digress. What is the very point of asking the student to compete when we know that the SSS (Triple ASS if you would put it) is going to sweep the championships. They have become the team that everyone love to hate and people that everyone are clamouring to beat. People just hate winners but I believe that this is just another display of elitism.
But then again, having the sport schools had its merits. Singapore had been trying in vain to create the next generation of local athletes without depending on foreigners, maybe it would be a good start, but I shuddered at the fact that people would start to pigeonhole talents especially with the formation of elitist schools like this.
Talking about the SSS, these people train a shocking eleven times a week and they have physios, nutritionists, coaches, assistant coaches, team managers, pom pom carrying cheerleading parents ( who literally screams their lungs out every time and of course busting the ear drums of the innocent spectators who were there watching a good race). I am not saying that it is wrong to be good but to really “unlevel” the level playing field especially at their teenage years is something totally unfair and unexpectable.
Do not get me wrong, I am not against elitism, just to make sure that democratic fanatics are going to chastise and put me on a cross on the remarks that smacks/reeks of communism. I am a believer of meritocracy and this issue of fairness but it is already an uphill battle trying to get committed students to spend their afternoons training/running on the rubber tracks and it will not help if another school were to come along offering more money, more opportunities for your kids who have natural athletic ability. But then again where does this put the rest of the schools- second and third fiddles, or really just a sad admission to the rest of the schools that your kids are just not good enough? What type of messages are we giving to the kids? Are we going to teach and expose the kids to elitism at such an age when they will experience it in the rest of the working life and existence? The experiential process of fast ageing is something that I do not ascribe to. Perhaps the thrill of being the underdog and beating the “S***” of the SSS will be the mantra of the rest of the athletic community. Is that the kind of patriotism we want to inculcate in the students of Singapore?
I don’t really have an answer for it, Maybe I am just a sore loser trying to verbalise my bruised ego of a lack of athletic ability...
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