Greyscalefuzz - Nothing's in black or white

Atonement isn't about atoning at all

2008-01-31T00:27:00.000+08:00

I was fortunate today: a friend of mine (who works not far from where I work) had a couple of tickets to Atonement last night. She wasn't able to make it: her boyfriend had free tickets to something with Hossan Leong in it and both mutually forgot to inform the other. She decided to give up Atonement for Hossan Leong, and I got myself 2 free tickets to an Oscar-winner-to-be.

My own date's version of events is that the Hossan Leong show costed more, and therefore, in pure economic terms, giving up Atonement was a far better deal. Upon learning about Hossan Leong though, I told my friend that it was far more prudent to give up Hossan Leong instead.

Like she would. :)

And anyhow, I think I would have enjoyed Atonement alot more - why would I blog about it, no less?

Ed note: before proceeding further, there're going to be a whole lot of spoilers (from my POV at least), so read on only after you've either read the book, or seen the movie.

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When I read Atonement a few years back, it struck me that I had probably just read the best book of my life (I think I've scaled higher peaks in literature since then, but alas, I've recently regressed a far lot further since). Atonement was, for me, a writer's novel. It takes someone who's read well and read a lot to empathise with the protagonist, and, by extension, with the author himself.

The movie as I saw it yesterday night (this being only a few hours ago) was faithful to the novel - this must be because Ian McEwan himself was a producer on the movie. The movie neatly segments into four parts, just as in the novel itself:

- there was the story of that one fateful day where Briony saw her sister jump into the fountain before the manservant Robbie, and the tragic misunderstanding borne of an overactive imagination;

- there was the horror of war and what it wrought on the young men of a generation, the story of Robbie and his promise, the promise to return to the woman he loves;

- there was the story of Briony and her atonement, and how she slowly understood what she had wrought. There was her experience as a wartime nurse and her wanting to tell the story that is consuming her;

- there was the story of the aged writer, Briony finally realizing the story, her last, and what it meant to tell a story itself.

Ultimately, the story that is told in Atonement is not about Robbie and Cecilia, though one will think it is, given that they get all the coverage. The story is also not about Briony: it is, cleverly hidden from the reader / viewer who the person pulling the strings was, and the smart reader / viewer will have already discerned, early on, that the writer was telling the tale, and the writer is Briony.

But... be a little patient, and listen carefully when Briony makes her soliloquy (in the novel, this was all in Briony's head; in the movie, it came out cleverly as an interview). What Briony was essentially talking about was about storytelling, and there were a few themes in there which made the book more than just another frame story (a mise en abyme), and which made this the Booker prize winner. The truth of the matter is this: I believe Briony, in this last part of the story, is actually Ian McEwan talking about himself; and particularly, himself as a storyteller and what it meant.

I remember reading the story so many years ago, and it still struck me how, in this last part of the book, everything that was fabricated earlier was an exposition in the struggles of a storyteller: telling it as it was (fact) or telling it for what it is meant to be (fiction); imagination and the dangerous course it sometimes runs; one's experiences in life, and how they come to be important in shaping the story; and what it means to set things right, even if they were never to be achieved in reality.

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I felt for the characters: I truly did. It hurt to be wronged, disgraced and shamed; and set in an English class struggle it is all the more tragic what Robbie himself went through. It hurt to be separated from your love, and the pain of separation which drove Cecilia to part from her family, distraught and angry with your kin, is one that is beyond bearing. It must have been distressing to be Briony, to realise that you have wronged someone, and was ultimately the cause for the suffering and hurt to, not just our two protagonists, but, to a whole family as well. Briony realised that her actions of that evening was the cause of it all (like the first domino in a long chain of tragic events).

I felt it must have been carthatic to write about it all, and seek release - and I smiled when she talked about the happy ending that she wrote. An irony at the end: the truth is tragic, and the novel would have had closure the way it was without the fourth and final part of it. But that was Briony's closure, not ours, and Ian McEwan recognised that the novel wasn't great until he tore away the veneer of falsehood over it and pulled away the wool that covered our eyes all along.

That made the novel a masterpiece - and I can think of no better compliment than that for a writer.

9 Million Bicycles in Beijing

2007-11-02T14:21:00.000+08:00

It's been 4 months since I last checked in: a lot has happened within that space of time. While I feel compelled to give my loyal readers (all 10 of them! If they're still reading my blog...) an update on my life and what has gone on, I also feel like I often write posts just updating people.
The lowdown on the last four months:

1. I wrapped up work in Australia. The last time I posted anything here, I was somewhere in Melbourne chilling out with my sister and not doing much work. I didn't really need to be there: the boss just wanted some closure over there, so off we went, said hi and bye to a few people, and generally stopped talking to the Australians we worked with after that.

In retrospect, that time in Australia was, on the whole, quite fun: there was plenty of drama along the way, some travelling, and the best part was just catching up with family. I would do it all over again except for the part where I froze my balls off every night walking back from the MR firm to my hotel in North Sydney... All so I could save on cab fare.

2. I also did not announce this, but I hooked up with a gal a little before my last trip to Australia. At that point in time, I wasn't sure if I was ready for another relationship. However, after 4 months (and still counting...) it looks like it's in for the long haul.

It is serious... I think. Somehow, we always cracked jokes about how we should just break up and see other people (you know, for the variety?). But all these remained talk, and I knew, some 2-3 weeks back, that she was serious.

So I should be, too.

Come to think of it, I don't think I'll be blogging much about my relationship though: it is just not my style to. Unless, of course, I start that angsty trip again, one that took me some 1 year to recover from.

3. Lots of travelling the last few months: mostly, it is for work trips to Beijing. There were also a couple of holidays: one to Bali and another to Ho Chi Minh City. Both were short excursions / getaways to seek hedonistic pleasures in... oh, I'm saying too much there. ;)

Ed Note: Hey, btw, what do you think if I start blogging about sex? I haven't quite done any of that before. Probably won't do that though: too many people know me in real life and know about my blog. Heck, it's even in my facebook profile.

More on Beijing in a while: impressions and stuff. I have a somewhat biased impressions of Beijing (they're positive btw), largely because I'm glad I finally got a chance to work here.

4. Workwise, I got onto a really interesting project in Beijing. Remember that I work in a consulting outfit for a client in the technology sector. The 'really interesting project' was a strategy piece that involved formulating a plan to grow the client's business in China. That's the 3 second spiel anyway.

The more interesting aspects of the work, though, were in learning about:

a) the challenges of marketing tech products in China;

b) the battles against counterfeits in a notoriously IP-ignorant country;

c) the importance of channels and why we should never piss them off;

d) how come no one knows the 'who, where, what' when it comes to Small and Medium Businesses; ande) the magic you can create with some customer data and a spreasheet

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Let's hope I find the time (over the next week or so) to delve a little more into some of the 4-5 things above. Stay tuned!

Late Like a 40-Year Old Virgin

2007-06-30T23:59:00.000+08:00

Rant and Rave ahead - skip this post if uninterested.

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I have never waited so long in my life for an airplane to take off.

It was a simple domestic flight from Sydney to Melbourne for the purposes of work, meeting relatives, and a more pleasant environment to spend the weekend.

Instead, it turned into the interminable wait.

In hindsight, it wasn't entirely the fault of Virgin Blue (the domestic carrier I directed all my invisible rage at). But I can't help but blame them for what ensued.

First off, I checked in at those ubiquitous self-service kiosks that were meant to reduce the need for front counter check-in staff. But because I also have a Samsonite to lug onboard, I still have to drop my bag in the bag drop-off counter.

What I didn't get was why there was a queue for the bag drop-offs - don't you just 'drop' your bag and then go? So why the need for a whole slew of counter staff to check and tag bags? OK, I guess it is necessary, but somehow, it kinds of defeats the whole purpose of self check-in entirely.

Additionally, checking in was also confusing because there were 2 long queues formed: one for the self check-inners who are queueing to bag drop; another for the stupids who are queueing to check in. Of course general confusion ensued and additional staff have to be hired to manage the lemminged passengers into joining the right queue.

And to make things worse, there are guys who will join the wrong queues, and hold up counter staff in meaningless arguments over mindless stuff like: "Yes I know I didn't check in at the kiosk, but can I still drop my bag? No? WHY THE HELL NOT? WHAT RULES?"

Ok, so all in, about 30 minutes to self check-in (5 mins for the computer illiterate to figure it out and move on from their frustration at the kiosk, 1 min to check myself in, 24 minutes shuffling in the queue and nudging my bag to the drop-off counters).

Next up: Krispy Kreme doughnuts for brekkies and off to Gate 32 we go!

At Gate 32, I whiled the time away reading a little book about finding your strengths, which Virgin Blue isn't very good at showing me at this present moment. Its one claim to fame is perhaps that it keeps you in transit for a SHORTER period than its archrival JetStar.

So while at Gate 32, there were ominous signs looming: the first one was the airport announcement over the public address system that there were "Strong Westerly Winds" blowing in and one of two of Sydney's runways will have to be closed. It meant delays and Sydney airport decides that the best thing passengers can do is to "check with your respective airlines' staff". Like they aren't hassled enough already huh?

And to make things even worse, Virgin Blue flight DJ 818 was 'DELAYED' getting out of the Gold Coast. Which meant that it was going to be 'DELAYED' getting out of Sydney as well. Alright, fine. Virgin Blue's ground staff immediately announce in a cheerily happy voice that the 8.15am flight would most likely leave at 9.30am or so, after the Gold Coasters disembark and the plane refuels.

How optimistic of them.

So next up, DJ 818 finally got into Sydney airport and the harried Gold Coasters shuffled off the airplane. Hurray! Gate 32 should start getting busy soon.

Except for one problem: DJ 818 has an engineering fault and "our engineers are working on fixing the problem" and the ground crew announces that "as soon as we know how long it will take, we will let you know."

At this point, I am starting to seeth... I'm already late getting out of Sydney, and I am going to be very late showing up at my client's office.

To make things worse, ground crew eventually pronounces (in the same cheerily happy voice) that "unfortunately, our engineers cannot tell us how long it will take, and we apologise for being unable to tell you when our aircraft can take off". They also say that "if you would like to leave the gate area, please listen to the public announcements for updates".

Tell that to the iPodders who probably didn't understand any of the ruckus going on. More on iPodders later.

Eventually, the engineering problems proved insurmountable. Ground crew at Gate 32 finally made the executive decision that was to create the 'Mr Bean' situation of domestic airport hell: they decided we should switch to... another Virgin Blue plane! Yatta!

Ground crew promptly decides that the plane at Gate 31 will become DJ 818 and thus announces that "all passengers of DJ 818, please move to Gate 31 for immediate boarding". Happily, the passengers all shuffle across the passageway to the gate opposite and promptly forms a queue in front of the counter. There were few seats available because some passengers of another flight are plonked on them.

Ground crew happily skips from Gate 32 to Gate 31 and picks up the microphone. DJ 818 passengers look on in mild anticipation that they will finally board the plane. Ground crew cheerily announces that "all passengers of DJ XXX (I forgot the number) waiting at Gate 31 will now board at Gate 32 instead. Please kindly move to the gate opposite to await your flight".

Ahhhh... now I get it. We did a plane swap! Collective groans from the passengers of DJ XXX were greeted by indifference from several iPodders - some sleeping to the sounds of Handel, others pumping their heads to techno. It did take a while for the iPodders to register these domestic terminal comedies and, of course, they did eventually move. (Some of the thick ones did eventually try to board the 'wrong' aircraft and were shooed away with much irritation and confusion).

Okay, so the plane swap has happened and Gate 32ers are now Gate 31ers, and vice versa. So DJ 818ers finally look at our skippy cheery ground crew gal and she finally announces that "we are now removing your bags from the previous plane and transferring them onto this plane, and there will be another delay".

Wow... 8.15am has turned into 10.15am, and none of us are on the plane yet.

And finally, the plane swap has been done and the bags were moved across, ground crew gal finally starts checking boarding passes and letting people onto the new DJ 818. Collective sighs of relief and happy customers of Virgin Blue start boarding their flight for Melbourne.

So boarding takes another 20 minutes or so and I chucked myself comfortably into window seat 5F, with a view of the starboard side of the plane. I can see the wing to the right and back, and a mean looking yellow manhole cover nearby.

With everyone safely in the aircraft, and the right bags onboard, the pilot proceeded to welcome all passengers and greeted us with this news: "the plane needs to be refueled and we have already called Shell to come refuel the plane, but they seem to be taking their time coming."

Ok, sanity check: Plane swap - checked. Passengers boarded - checked. Crew moved to new aircraft - checked. bags transferred - checked. Oh wait! I can't take off coz I don't have enough fuel!

Ok. Yet another delay.

Eventually though, out of my little peephole of a window, I saw what look like a bunch of shining alumnium pipes-on-wheels zip over the mean looking manhole cover near to the right wing of the newly christened DJ 818. A bored looking man wearing a lime green jacket and big lime green headphones (NOT an iPodder this one) got out of pipes-on-wheels and started fiddling with his mean looking hose.

In fact, he had TWO of them! On the truck anyhow.

The small one led to the plane, and he slowly and laboriously lugged this one to a little hole at the side of the aircraft, plugged it in, and shuffled back to the truck.

Next, he brought out this rod and prodded it into the manhole cover. He removed the cover and attached another hose (thicker but shorter this time) into the recess that was exposed. (If that didn't sound like a dirty romantic novel, then I guess I will never carve a career in writing books with Fabio on the cover; side note: where's my career counselor when I need one?).

So anyhow, the fuel truck guy from Shell FINALLY filled the plane with fuel and drives off. Meanwhile, cabin crew were busy telling passengers to stay in their seats. They were also busy showing their disapproval whenever someone whipped out his / her mobile. Much clucking of tongues and shaking of heads and wagging of index fingers are meant to indicate that it was a bad idea to call the darling while fuel was injected into the aircraft.

With the plane fueled up, it was time for all passengers to hear what the next hold up (you think its over???) was.

Oh yeah, the "Strong Westerly Winds" theory of plane delaying tactics. The pilot promptly announces to us that "due to Strong Westerly Winds" one of the runways had to be closed. Which meant that all planes are taking off and landing on one runway, which meant that "we are now negotiating with air traffic control to let us take off as soon as possible".

At this point, despite my reservations about the delays; despite my seething rage at waiting for 3 hours already; despite my resignation at the inevitability of it all; I have to say that Virgin Blue staff are perhaps the most informative of all airline staff ever. Kudos for the information age!

Not that its a bad thing: it just doesn't help if you have people like stupids, thicks, and iPodders, all of whom generally don't care in their own special ways what you tell them about delays. A delay just meant that: a delay. And no amount of information regarding what you're doing or when things are happening are changing the perception that Virgin Blue is one big cock-up in the eyes of these people.

Finally, and this is the last time I use that word 'Finally', the plane gets permission to take off, and we taxi onto the runway, slowly, but surely, and DJ 818 is off the ground - almost 4 hours behind schedule, and with all passengers intact.

It was with fanfare - and a huge dose of relief - that all DJ 818ers started to clap and cheer when the plane landed in Melbourne airport. I don't think I'll ever look at another 'DELAYED' sign in the same way ever again.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand... and Other Vows

2007-06-28T11:50:00.000+08:00

There are many rules relating to what you do or do not do at work, and there're probably many rules you can create about blogging, and what you do or do not do while you blog.

One of the work rules is that you probably do not blog while you are at work. Unless, of course, if you're my boss who is currently using his blog as a platform to replace the mass emails that he spams us with. Or if you're the resident blogger of Microsoft / Google / Apple / (pick your favourite IT hothouse), pimping their latest and greatest creations.

One of the blog rules would be that you probably blog on a pretty regular basis, or your faithful readers (all 10 of them!) abandon you for some other tripe (there are a lot of junk celebrity bloggers out there in Singapore).

And because I have never seen myself as a person to follow rules on a consistent basis, here I am: blogging while I am supposed to be working. There's a bunch of stuff waiting to be spreadsheeted and powerpointed but who cares? I've got stuff to talk about.

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Speaking of breaking rules, I have a knack for breaking rules related to my car and my driving.

Ever since I started driving (my own car, that is), I have not failed to collect a fine or ticket in every country that I have so deigned to rent a vehicle at.

In Singapore, there have been at least 6 parking fines in the last one year. The range of fines that I have garnered (much like some ill-conceived collection that I'm not so proud of):

Rule No. 4(1)# - Parking without displaying any valid coupon(s) : This happened once when I cheated on my parking coupon. On some occasions, I will fold back the coupon flaps rather than tear them out, just so that I can re-use the coupon at a later date. To date, I think I managed to save enough through such efforts to actually pay the fine, so... in a way, it is perhaps worth it.
Rule No. 11 - Displaying coupon(s) where the time of commencement of parking indicated is later than the actual time : This happened once when I tried to squeeze a little more time out of my folded-back cheater of a coupon. I put a time that is 15 minutes later than that particular point in time, and promptly got a fine because an alert car park auntie passed by the vehicle 3 minutes later. 3 MINUTES!
Rule No. 10(1) - Parking a vehicle in a parking place not designated for its use : This happened when I parked near Fort Canning. I was heading to church and chose to plonk the car in a bus park lot (much like MANY other cars there were doing). So there are actually lots designated for coaches, ok, but why can't I park there when they aren't being used at all? Talk about a waste of space.

In France where I spent 4 months of last year, there were mainly parking fines garnered from the Parisian traffic police. The problem for me was that I spent most of the time in Fontainebleau, where the only parking rule around is that you can park anywhere except where it'll inconvenience someone else. Parking cars up on the kerb is not uncommon in sleepy Fontainebleau. Paris though, is another story, and they slapped me with a parking fine for leaving the car there for longer than stipulated.

To date, I have yet to pay that fine.

And finally, due to an over-eagerness to hit the Great Ocean Road with my colleague, I ended up speeding along Prince Edward Highway, somewhere east of Melbourne. All it took was to be 10km/h above the speed limit, and the camera went snap. The Melbourne police took great pains to locate our address (they called the rental company, the hotel, our client, and my Aussie mobile #) and finally found out we wanted the ticket to be served to us at a grand old CBD address in Singapore.

We haven't got the letter yet (it's been 2 months?). Guess the postage was not worth it.

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What is it about dating a beautiful woman that makes you feel insecure?

Why does it make you feel like you will lose her eventually, that there is nothing you can do in your power to hold onto her?

Why is it that jealousy bubbles to the surface whenever she gets approached by other men?

When is it possible to say 'I love you' to her and mean it, and not because you want to get comfortable with her (because she's beautiful)?

What can you do to keep her with you, knowing full well she can have the pick of the crop?

Why is it that you feel an urge to protect her, to hold her, and to reassure her that she is beautiful, despite the reservations you have that it is that which gives her strength and confidence?

Questions.

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Sydney right now is an odd place. It is a living irony.

It has rained copiously the last 3 weeks or so. I arrived here on Tuesday to find it showering torrentially - there was half an expectation that Noah's Ark will loom over the distance, overspilling with kangaroos, koalas and wombats. (the Australian version of it, anyhow). The folks I were visiting at the market research agency we work with were apologising for the weather, like it was their fault that the rain came along (and the British aren't the only ones who have extensive vocabulary for weather conditions).

Yet... and this is weird... the people here are still experiencing a drought. They still do not have enough water.

I found out soon enough why: the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains; but in Australia, they are falling in the damned cities where the damned dams cannot catch them. So the best possible solution to this water crisis might be this: bring out the bathtubs and start collecting the rainwater off of your rooftops.

Or if divine intervention be required, pray for rain - but pray with more geographic precision.

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Have you ever thought about the wedding vows and how they all sound similar? Apparently, even wedding vows have certain best practices. For example, the following wedding vow is too often said to death:

"I _____, take you ______, to be my wedded wife/husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in
sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto
I pledge you my faithfulness."

Another one which is uttered by the minister in attendance:

"_________________, will you have this woman/man to be your wife/husband to live together according to God’s decree in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her/him, comfort her/him, honour and keep her/him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, faithfully keep to her/him alone, so long as you both shall live?"

"I will."

I think we can all do better with our wedding vows: be creative and come up with your own. The website My Wedding Vows
might be a good place to source for ideas.

However, I think a vow, whether creative or traditional, needs to be made with genuine intent. Otherwise, it is just another meaningless utterance, air let out of lungs without any commitment to it.

And where vows are concerned, I believe I shall write my own one when the time comes around to it. (Ed note: Actually I was thinking of sprucing this entry with a few vows of my creation, but there's no time for that now - I have to get back to work!).

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Last piece of news for those who are friends and who read this (and count themselves loyal to my cause whatever that might be at the present moment of time).

I am very happy right now. I also miss home a lot now and rue the fact that I am in Sydney. If you must know why, you know how to find me.

Oh all that rain... and not a drop to drink.

Mapless in Melbourne (aka Fatigue and a Shortage of Everything)

2007-05-16T21:22:00.000+08:00

This is one of those 'ME' posts - long, ranty, and not very much useful in the bigger scheme of things. It does feel good to write these once in a while though.

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I am tired:

- of being me.

- of being me being a crutch.

- of being me being a crutch once too often.

- of being me being a crutch once too often, and for other people.

- of being me being a crutch once too often, and for other people, without anything in return.

- of being me being a crutch once too often, and for other people, without anything in return. What's more, it isn't like I am expecting some reward (though I do habour some expectations).

Being supportive, or otherwise being a friend, is sometimes a tiring exercise. Sometimes, I just want to quit it. If I could just easily tender my resignation as a friend sometimes, it'll be so much better.

A leave of absence will probably not hurt either. In some way, being 6000 miles (approximately) away from home does help.

I don't get too bothered by folks back home when I am here.

I don't get knackered at the end of a day chasing deals that never materialise.

I don't worry about people around me.

I get time away from all that has saddened me and worn me down. I am still sad about it - I just can't do damage to myself from being physically where it hurts (thinking about it still hurts... but it's containable here)

*** By the way, don't believe that bull shit about how getting away will help you forget.

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But I don't get to be myself though. Over here, my social circle is diminished, and there is increased interaction with a very small number of people. Being with colleagues for 12 hours a day, constantly, and without respite, is probably none too healthy (even though most consulting engagements are such, I've always been the local and never realised the almost 24/7 interaction required with other colleagues).

Consider this: I live in the same hotel as them; see them the first thing in the morning before heading out; take turns driving the rental car and bitching about traffic; work in a small meeting room overrun with cables, laptops and assorted fat-inducing munchies; hunt for new vegeterian options (I work with a vegeterian Indian, a somewhat renounced vegeterian Indian, and a none-too-picky Thai) during lunch; brainstorm over coffee about our collective problems; fire off emails and make cruel jokes about our counterparts from Hong Kong (they and their 'sing-song' English); check out eatability.com for new dinner options (Thai today, Italian tomorrow) - the first suggested restaurant wins (so long as there is vegeterian); and then retire to the hotel room, with the privacy it offers me to watch my latest downloaded shows (ack... Heroes is ending!).

I see my colleagues too much. I even talk like them now (affected Indian accent with bobble head thrown in for good measure; kawaii Thai intonations - quite charming for a gal, very gay-ish if you're a guy though).

My rant is: I need to be home... and they aren't letting me be.

Part of the reason is cost: it costs less to house me in the hotel over the weekend than fly me back and forth. The hotel is none too bad: it has broadband, the room is big and spacious, and I get a queen sized bed all to myself (anyone wanna come share it?). The flyback is not bad either: the company books us on SIA (Side note: Since I fly economy class, I always check into seats near the galley, somewhere around row 53 or so, and on the window aisle seat - go find out why).

Another reason is my bad timing: I chose to stay over one weekend, just for the heck of it (and me and another colleague did the Great Ocean Road! 2nd time round for me but she was totally thrilled to see the cliffs and winding roads). That was last weekend, and the intention was to fly home this weekend. Which proved impractical because we were going to fly home ANYWAY next Wednesday (or Thursday, or possibly Friday because we are such poor planners).

It sucks that I can't go home this weekend because: 1) I already miss home and people I know - I also miss TCC coffee; 2) I am going to miss a friend's wedding, and furthermore, that is my one chance to play being a 'Brother'. This sucks ass - I've always wanted to be the guy helping the groom tackle the ruckus of 'gate-crashing' while fighting off demanding bridesmaids. It always sounded like so much fun.

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In other news...

1) Melbourne May 2007 is probably not the best of times for this sunshine state. The water shortage is made further acute by the realisation that the government has miscalculated its water reserves by 40%. 40-freaking-percent! This means further water restrictions are likely, with Stage 4 being a distinct possbility now. Yikes... people are already not washing cars due to current restriction levels. What's next for this drought stricken land? What is a stupid tourist like myself worrying about a drought in this country? Perhaps I just like the collective environmental conscience that seems to permeate policies within this country, and therefore hate to see it suffer such (un)natural problems.

2) When driving in Melbourne, you cannot do without their version of the Street Directory. The Melway is one really comprehensive road directory - it never fails to list every major or minor road. The one thing that impresses me about it is that it accurately reflects how 'big' a road really is (which is one gripe I had about Singapore's version of it - all roads look the same size and one-laners are no different from expressways). Much as the Melway helped within understanding and planning a route, Melbourne itself makes it disappointingly hard to get your bearings: street signs are not the most conspicuous objects and the necessity of doing hook turns at junctions featuring tram lines still baffle me sometimes.

3) The Great Ocean Road is one big scenic drive - doing it the 2nd time round is decidedly more fun, since I am now a more seasoned driver and can navigate the curves better (there are other curves I navigate better these days too but... sighs... no chance there). This time, I was driving in a generally west-bound direction and during the mid-morning to afternoon period. The views were amazing - sheer towering cliffs, waves crashing on rocky shores, inlets carved out by years of pounding surf. Given the chance, I would love to do it all over again - and bring a camera... and lose the non-too-adventurous colleague.

4) Finally, the last news item of the day: If you know anyone who can take me out to somewhere chic in Melbourne and have a swell time, sign me up with them. I hang out with people who are currently married / engaged or otherwise seriously dating someone while here. This means there are no singletons like myself who would love to hang out over some drinks and meet other people, and this means that this means post 9pm, I'm mostly back in my hotel room watching downloads or checking out Australian TV shows like Big Brother, 1 vs 100 etc. In the short term, it is kind of nice having a hotel room to thrash like a rock star. In the longer term (which is the next one month or so) this place will start to seriously bore me. HELP!

There.

Oh btw, since I have a surfeit of photos which I have yet to blog about, I will probably put a couple of posts to showcase them a bit - bear with me as some of them date back to last year.

Mapless in Melbourne, May 2007

Two Steps Behind

2007-05-05T12:36:00.000+08:00

It's been 5 days in the Garden State of Melbourne and it looks set to be much longer now. Going by what is required, the work is going to be done by a partner in Australia, with my company being in a more supervisory and advisory position. I believe that this can largely be done out of Singapore. But given the tight timelines and strict deadlines, I guess there's no choice but to be here in Oz-land, stepping on tails and cracking the whips.

Coming to Melbourne in May is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it means that I get to meet my sis and her boyfriend again - the last time we saw each other, it was in rainy December. A blessing also when it comes to food and lodging: the food's largely covered by the per diems, and lodging comes courtesy of the company (of course!) so I'm living here like a well-fed happy consultant, with nary a care who cleans the room or washes the toilet (eh... it's not like I worried about these things back home either... )

It's a curse because I ended up being here (initially) with 2 Indian vegeterians. They're nice guys who took the trouble to explain all things Indian to me - I understood more about Hinduism and why Hindus are such tolerant folks when it came to other religions, and also why they aren't (Hinduism is both everything and nothing at the same time, but at a less abstract level than Zen Buddhism is); I understood also why a map of India from India is geographically depicted to have more land area than the typical atlas, and why Indians are outraged at seeing maps from so-called authorities on national borders; I understood that arranged marriages have a whole structure and organisation to them, that it is in and of itself a grand affair with parents on both sides involved, and brides chosen with much care, and that even if it was a love marriage, the logistics of an arranged marriage are followed nonetheless (70% of marriages in India are arranged marriages and they have one of the lowest divorce rates in the world!).

Oh wait, it's a curse because they are vegeterians and are really good at wrangling a situation to their benefit. :) When it comes deciding where to head to for dinner, the research on Indian restaurants in the area had already been done, and the decision was moot: 2-1 Indian curry place wins hands down. Oh yes there is a concession on one of the nights to go to a noodle joint, but the less than enthusiastic response from my Indian counterparts told me where their cuisine preferences lie. They are picky, cautious and particular when it comes to the food they eat - 'Rightfully so!' Ravi claims, 'because it is what you put into the system, and the system is all that matters in the end.'

Philosophical, that Ravi.

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Melb's left an impression as well over the last 5 days or so. First thing I noticed on getting here is the water restrictions put in place. From the various sources I've got (sources include sister, cab drivers, receptionists at workplace and hotels among others), it appears like there's been a drought in the state of Victoria for a long time already, something in the area of the last 5-6 years apparently (according to one source).

It's probably been quite severe before, and there are actually water restriction levels that are put in place to control water usage (to some extent). This also explained why my sister's beat up car looked more beat up (dust, grime and dirt is obvious on a 20-year-old white Honda) because it hasn't been washed for months. Water restriction was at Stage 3 during my stay there and I can't help but think about other such similar 'levels' and stages out there: Hurricanes, Tornados, DEFCON, Terrorist Alerts etc. (for more details on water restriction levels, go here)

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An additional curse, if you can call it that, is that our client site isn't located in town. Initially, the expectation was that the site might be on St Kilda Road, which was a hop, skip and jump away from the city centre. Following our own research on the Internet, hotel rooms were booked nearby.

However, upon further information provided by the client and other sources, it was apparent that the client site that we thought was the client site is not the client site that we were supposed to be at. The actual client site is in some suburb outside of town, in the 'city' of Whitehorse (I'm not gonna give away the actual 'urb' it's in because it just might give too much information away on my client and what I do).

The city of Whitehorse is not a city in the strict sense of the word: from the looks of it, it's an extension of Melbourne, or rather, a suburb of Melbourne. The road trip over here passes many houses, and it appeared like we never left the urban areas behind at all. In contrast, during my time in France, driving from one town to another is usually through forested areas and the distinction between one town and the next is usually clear cut (exceptions exist... like Fontainebleau and Avon, which are essentially two towns merged into one big urban mess).

I suspect, though, that Whitehorse might be a local municipality: i.e. it is more of a political entity than that of a geographical one. Given that I am in the airport transit lounge at the moment, I'll check that hypothesis out at some later date and perhaps qualify what I'm babbling about here. This might mean that the jurisdiction over essential services might be separate and distinct from the main Melbourne area itself - it might have its own police force, garbage disposal services, and the like.

Nevertheless, seeing the phrase Whitehorse brings back memories of my NS days. Singaporean males will know what I mean. The White Horse is that oft-used phrase describing a full-time national serviceman who is a 'priviledged son'. He is typically the son of an influential politician, rich and prominent business person, or some other similar e-literati (A l33t in netspeak). The name came about because the dockets (35A and 34B for those who care to recall) will have a white horse stamp on it to remind the unit commanders of the special treatment require for the rich kid.

Few people liked the system (for obvious reasons) and its existence was only very recently acknowledged.

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Right. Boarding soon. Thank god for the new IBM Thinkpad my company has deigned to bequeath to me: this baby runs on juice for more than 2 hours at a stretch! (on those days I don't run power intensive programs on it like Azureus). The Thinkpad is a tool for the pro: it looks chunky for sure, but the whole charm of it comes from its ubiquitous black monochrome and the sleek black lines with hard edges and sharp corners. In other words: don't mistake this for a fluffy mac pretender; it is a work tool through and through. And it doesn't say 'I look like I might collapse' like the Dell does sometimes. Thinkpads are made to get you looking like the professional you are, and there's no looking like a pro than tapping away on one while in the airport transit lounge.

Now... if only I can look like I'm actually doing work than blogging away. hehe...

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See you in Singapore soon. Bon Voyage.

How deep does the Rabbit Hole go?

2007-04-30T23:45:00.000+08:00

It's been a while.

That's all I got to say on the subject of my tardiness.

Now on to the main course.

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Firstly, the update. For the last 3.5 months, I was working away at a search firm / recruitment agency / headhunter (choose your description) interacting with a lot of people and generally getting a handle on the recruitment industry in Singapore. Also, I started seeing signs that the famed 'Employees' market' is back again: candidates show up with multiple job offers and companies are getting pressed to hire as quickly as possible (to stem outflows and offer rejections). What has not changed though were the salaries: they do not accurately reflect this demand.

So, that fun time at the search firm lasted until a kickass consultancy offered me a 3-month contract with them. It was not the most lucrative offer that an MBA can get, but it was good enough to entice me to join them. I had talked to them since last November and the expectations were rather clear in terms of compensation and work (the work is exciting stuff - strategy consulting always is). Thus, I took the plunge: I ate the red pill and took a dive down the rabbit hole to see how deep it goes.

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It goes deep south, far enough for me to be currently in Melbourne. Today (30 Apr) happened to be my first day at work (not counting the 2-3 hours at the project kickoff and that office party event, which were before my official start date). I had barely left the search firm (last Friday) and found myself on a plane Sunday night headed towards Melbourne. There was the inkling of an idea what the project was about (a Market Research thingy), but largely, all I was doing was heading to Australia with little idea what I was meant to do there.

Sitting pretty in the hotel room now, I can't help but wonder if this is what my worklife is going to be for a while: travelling at short notice to strange places and seeing a lot of airports, the inside of taxis, and intimately knowing the interiors of the hotel room (oh carpet, you're so fine!). The consulting life is going to be like this for a while... which is great! I never got to travel much at my last job.

Melbourne also affords me the opportunity to see my sis. It also afforded my dad and mum the opportunity to pile my luggage with stuff they want me to send to her (at last count, this was a headset with microphone, a couple of MicroSD cards, and some baby stuff for her bf's niece). We haven't caught up yet but I reckon I might take part of the weekend to do that. We shall see.

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On another note, I'm not sure I will be able to write much anymore. The following reasons are all why I haven't updated this blog for the whole month of April (btw, this post is backdated to 30 Apr so I have something in April... it was written on Labour Day... which is NOT a holiday in Australia):

Anime - Spring's offerings have intrigued me: I started on about 7 new animes that came out for the Spring season and have followed every one of them up until at least episode 3 or 4. Each anime takes up about 25 mins and this meant that time lost to anime amounted to around 3 hours every week.
TV - There are two programs I've followed throughout this recent period (let's call it greyscalefuzz's search firm times): The Amazing Race and Heroes. Whenever possible, I download both shows from bittorrent sites and collectively, they amount to almost 1hr and 40 mins away from more productive work as well. I still like TAR's reality show concept (comes from my travel bug syndrome) and Heroes is just simply mindblowing for its plotlines.
Interviews - and the preparation for them also took up time in April. While the 1st two months of the year were a drought where interviews were concerned, March and April brought a bit of a windfall in interviews. I met 5 companies for interviews (some leading to a 2nd round) even while juggling the possiblity of accepting the rabbit hole job. :) It was good to be desired, but only one other job came to a conversion. There is no way to estimate the time spent here though.
Other distractions - I surfed voraciously in April (my search history shows this) and this also meant much of my downtime (while not at work) was spent reading stuff off the Internet. Topics ranged form Spartan history on Wikipedia to recaps of TAR on Television without Pity. Engaging content on the web abounds - I will never read it all!
Oh yes, there is also The Gym. Since I signed up for a gym membership, I've been working out twice a week (almost religiously). This is a new thing on my calendar and has amounted to 3 hours in The Gym. The Gym is a noisy dancefloor music haven with hunky dudes pumping iron and gym bunnies in 2 piece attires prancing around. Eye candy aside, it also has too many gay guys (getting checked out in the shower room is the usual norm, especially when it came time to wrap the towel around the waist).

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So the rabbit hole goes deep: I know little about what I've gotten myself into, but it is a reality I am happy to explore for a while (if just for 3 months, so be it). Beats the uncertainty of recruitment. :)

PS: Give me a shout if you're are in Melbourne!

The Great Recap Episode, Part 2

2007-03-31T22:07:00.000+08:00

Avid anime fans will know what I am talking about when I mention Sunrise Studio.

Sunrise is the studio behind your blockbuster anime hits like Gundam Seed (and its less watchable sequel Gundam Seed Destiny), Mai Hime, Mai Otome and the currently airing Code Geass. Sunrise's anime are populated by a huge cast of characters, all with particular quirks and very distinct personalities.

Sunrise's anime plots are also riddled with fantastical plot twists and one can expect intense emotion (sometimes) from the characters within. Whether it be mechas, magical girls or harems, Sunrise will manage to make any story seem like you're watching an opera (or space opera in the case of Gundam).

But for all its merits, Sunrise has this one huge flaw which is inexcusable: the cheap use of the recap episode. The typical Sunrise anime will be so full of plot twists that the studio despairs over its fanbase losing track of the shenanigans and exploits played out on TV. 'The fans cannot be left behind! They must be periodically updated on what has gone on!'

What spawns from this line of reasoning is the oh-so-often use of that bane known as the Recap Episode. After approximately 10 episodes, Sunrise feels 'obliged' to let its fans have the Recap Episode: its simply a rehash of already aired episodes, edited to look like a summary of the plot highlights, with a voice over to make it all uber-serious (and also to mask the fact that they reused images and scenes). The real fans know though that it is another Sunrise cop-out: the studio is just saving money and stretching the season for what it's worth.

In other words... a sell out (to the hardcore fans, at least).

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Any blog that has been around long enough (and is read often enough) will have been trolled through a search engine, RSS feed aggregator or something similar. I guess my blog is no exception, and since I've started using StatCounter, I've been able to see the search keywords which have led unsuspecting readers to my blog.

Since a free account on StatCounter did not allow me to keep more than a hundred recorded 'pings', I've been diligently keeping a record of the keywords offline. Bloggers out there often have one of those posts where they 'exhibit' these keywords, make funny observations about some of them, and generally boast about their perceived readership (how they get such grandiose notions from the keywords that led to their site is a mystery).

For myself, I guess I am no exception. Therefore, like in any Sunrise anime, my recap post is meant to highlight some of those posts that inadvertently drew the most hits from search engines (the keywords are in italics; my comments are below):

1. The MarkStrat one

"secret of markstrat online"
- this one sounds like a kungfu manual

"how i won markstrat"
- future b-school bestseller if this ever gets written

"what can i apply in real world from what i learnt in markstra"
- in brief: nothing

"markstrat blog"
"markstrat cheat"
- tsk tsk tsk...

"secrets to be successful in the markstrat game"
- there are none: you already have them

"tricks for markstrat"
"hints for markstrat"
- how about hooray for markstrat?

"markstrat wisdom"
- wise indeed...

Sometime last year during my MBA, I did this elective called Market Driving Strategies that is really about all of us playing a simulation called MarkStrat. It proved frustrating to the losing teams playing it that most of us were looking for ways and means to turn things around. I wrote a couple of posts about it.

Little did I expect that there were others like myself out there who had little idea what was going on. But, unlike them, it never occurred to me to troll the blogs for hints on how to win MarkStrat. Some guys did though as is evident above.

In fact, I get most of my random one-time hits from people trolling the net for MarkStrat hints. These guys are quite desperate if they think anyone out there has the answer for them. What's little understood is that MarkStrat isn't about winning it: it's about learning from it (even while losing).

Link to MarkStrat post

2. The Ice Cream Case

"ice-fili what happened"
- you really want to know? You REALLY wanna KNOW???

"wtp ice fili"
- I'm not willing to pay a single cent, mind you. WTP = Willingness to Pay

"ice-fili mba case"
"strategy for ice fili"
- Sell, sell, sell... oh wait that was in March, Buy, buy, buy

"ice-fili advantage"
- phick... phock... phick... game, set, match, ice-fili.

Ice-Fili is this Russian ice cream company that is an interesting example of a former government-owned enterprise rising out of the ashes of the Cold War. The case was written with detailed data and enough information with which to teach a Strategy 101 course.

All your strategy concepts can be covered with the material: Willingness-to-Pay, Value Chain, Cost-to-Serve, Value Delivered, Competitive Advantage, Value Innovation, Five Forces, etc.

Being an oft-used case, I guess there are other b-schoolers out there who troll the net for any information they can glean about it.

That is, again, a problem: there should be no additional information needed to understand the case. The case is written to be self-contained. If any information were to be used at all, it should already be within the case itself.

Anyhow, for the Dec '06ers, Ice-Fili was a bad reminder of a badly taught course: our entire Strategy course was based on that ONE case, to the point where we even had our exam on it. Not one of us was interested in ice cream for a while after...

Link to Ice-Fili post

3. The Great Casino Debate

"seah chiang nee tragedy and the casino debate little speck"
- poor Seah Chiang Nee...

"IR parliament house balakrishnan"
"Vivian Balakrishnan"
- Singapore's favourite eye surgeon became Singapore's least favourite sell-out

"IMPACT OF JACKPOT TAKINGS WITH THE SET-UP OF IR IN SINGAPORE"
- none at all I'm sure... your SAFRA clubs are safe because the uncles and aunties won't be able to afford the entrance fee

"chia teck leng"
"chia teck leng christianity"
- rotting in jail now...

"singaporeans spent at turf club"
- ... to see horses run in circles

"legalized gambling deontology"
- 3 words you'll seldom see next to each other

"Parliamentary speech by Khaw"
- hear ye, hear ye

"legal age for gambling on cruise ships"
- probably lower than the legal age to have sex

"casino AND integrated resort"
- Yes... one and the same, only in Singapore

"effect erosion in genting malaysia"
- not something a non-geologist like me will talk about

"social responsibility activities of genting"
- check back again in your next life

"IR debates in Singapore"
- now we're talking

The extent to which Singaporeans were interested in articles on the casino / IR issue surprised me, even when it is no longer a topic of discussion.

To put things in perspective, I wrote my Ethics essay on the Great Casino Debate in Dec 2006, a whole year and some since the debate raged in parliament and in the media. And prior to the debate, even, the idea was mooted by government leaders, there were hushed whispers about it happening, and there occurred the great hullabaloo about calling them Integrated Resorts (for political reasons).

In any case, I am heartened to find folks out there still looking for information on the IR debate. My own research was based on articles I trolled off the net (most were dutifully referenced and noted in the essay).

The strange thing is that, when the debate was at its most intense, it was already a moot issue: the powers that be had already made the decision. The post-decision consultation was just that: all talk. Hot air for the sake of respectability perhaps.

I hope the debate served as that point in Singaporean history where its people finally understood that they have been hoodwinked by a government that is, up till now, still unwilling to listen without first making up its mind. Things must change. Things will.

Link to Essay on the Great Casino Debate

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Next week: Another recap episode! This time, I want to go into the funnier and less often observed keywords that have led to greyscalefuzz. Stay tuned!

Letters from Bukit Timah / Frags of our Brothers

2007-03-29T18:10:00.000+08:00

I was fortunate to be invited to attend a talk by Singapore's eminent economist, Dr Tan Kee Wee. Dr Tan is the Lilian Too of investors: while Lilian tells you what the stars have to say about the future economy, Dr Tan is more "specific" and "down to earth" in his speculations... i.e. he builds and uses econometric models to predict the future. In a nutshell, Dr Tan might be what you describe as a macroeconomic fortune teller.

Dr Tan's presentations are titled Investment Outlook Seminars and he has been doing them for a long while - Singaporean investors do listen to this sage and act upon his advice. However, what Dr Tan really does well is not tell people what to invest in; what he's good at is in explaining the intricate links between macroeconomic forces and current affairs, and why the world is in the funk it is in because of whose actions. It is a Macroeconomics 101 class that is a tour-de-force through the world shaping economic events of this century.

To illustrate his presentation, he uses movie themes. His theme this time round was inspired by Clint Eastwood's WW2 opus: Letters from Iwo Jima (which follows Flags of Our Fathers). With tongue firmly in cheek (Ed Note: I hate this phrase, but it is just so apt), Dr Tan titles his presentation 'Letters from Bukit Timah'. Following from here, I shall talk about what I understood of Dr Tan's presentation (which was interesting, humorous and a macro refresher for myself).

2006 was a year marked by a further ascent in the Chinese and Indian economies. In effect, the rise of the 2 nations are part of a bigger force known as Globalisation. As with any world moving force, there are both winners and losers in its wake. The winners are your i-bankers and MNC CEOs, who are laughing all the way to the bank because they can all buy low and sell high, that all-important principle. The losers are actually the low wage earners and workers of this world. While productivity has improved, wages have not followed suit. Tough luck workers.

Global Liquidity

Why has the world been able to globalise? It is all due to a phenomenon known as Global Liquidity (see this article to understand what it is; see this blog to know why it's a big deal). in a nutshell, global liquidity results in the world being flushed with too much money (none of which is going to people like you and I though). There were two factors that led to this situation:

1. The sinking of the Nikkei index - the Japanese economy tanked in the early 1990s (from its 40,000 high) and never recovered since then. What the central bank of Japan did was to lower interest rates in response, in the hope of stimulating entrepreneurship and investments (FDI). These macroeconomists all think we are motivated by borrowing rates: the lower it is, the more enticed we are to borrow money to start a business. However, what the lowered interest rates resulted in was a practise known as carry trade, whereby Morgan Stanleyish hawks borrowed in yen (cheaply, because the interest rate is low in Japan) and lend the borrowed funds in a high-interest currency, like perhaps the USD (at that point).

2. The dot-com crash - this had an effect because Alan Greenspan, at that time still Chairman of the Federal Reserves, decided to lower interest rates in the U.S. as well. For what reason? See factor number 1. What Greenspan inadvertently caused though was to make money 'cheap'. With borrowing rates low, the multiplier effect does its part in making more money available in the financial world.

To curb the effects that his action has caused, Greenspan has raised the rates again (this as of 2005 I think), but the effect of that won't be felt until much later. Therefore, the world as it is now is still enjoying (or suffering, depending on your point of view) the effects of global liquidity.

So what happens with money being so liquid is that the developing countries of the world, particularly your biggies like China and India, have a whole lot of USD in their pockets. A country like China is scared to be holding on to too much USD though. Why? Because buying too much USD with RMB will cause the RMB to rise, which will make its goods expensive, which will lower its exports, which means less income (ad infinitum as macroeconomic reasoning goes). So China uses its USD to buy US treasury bonds: low yield but stable returns. This is what every other emerging Asian economy does with its USD, to peg its currency artificially to the USD without causing its goods to cost more. Local Asian banks can thus keep their mortgage rate low and trigger what? You guessed it: property speculation (but that's another story...)

The Dominant Currency and Why no Hyperinflation

Come now to 2007 and we all start wondering why doomsday theorists all think this liquidity is supposedly a bad think. They naysaying economists all say so because too much money leads to that unhealthy economic phenomenon known as hyperinflation (my view of hyperinflation is that it is what makes the money we own as good as toilet paper, and I am not being lyrical here). However, we have not seen hyperinflation occur: Dr Tan says this is because all the money is being held by the ultra-rich (hence we are all not rich; hence we don't over-buy stuff and raise the demand curve; hence prices don't rise; ad infinitum reasoning ala macroeconomic theorists).

So... while there won't likely be hyperinflation (and you can bet your pants that the Fed will do all it can to prevent this by...... raising interest rates), there also won't be an alternative currency emerging anytime soon. The currency of the world is the USD.

Do you know why? Wow, Dr Tan's explanation of this conspiracy (it IS a conspiracy I tell you) totally blew me away. First thing you need to know was that, following WW2, the Bretton Woods Conference resulted in exchange rates around the world to be pegged to the USD, which was at that time based on the gold standard (i.e. you can buy USD and use it, at that time, to exchange for a fixed amount of gold... from Fort Knox I assume). What this did was to make the USD stable as a currency of choice: the European central banks love it, the Colombian drug barons love it even more.

The subsequent collapse of the gold standard and depegging of currencies did not diminish the dominance of the USD though: this was because another some Republican president had, by that time, convinced Saudi Arabia (and subsequently all of OPEC) to sell its oil in USD, and in USD solely. What to do? The oil-producing nations only want USD for their oil, therefore the economies of the world have to hoard USD to buy oil.

Okay, enough of a diversion into the USD as dominant currency. Serious contenders to this useless throne have been the Euro and, previously, the Yen. There might come a day though when the Chinese Yuan may prove to be THE world currency, but that won't be anytime soon (they don't want it either).

Bad for US, Good for ROW (Rest of the World)

So Dr Tan gazes into his crystal ball of an econometric model (200-300 equations of it; according to him, central bank models have >500 equations in their simulations). He predicts that a recession will hit the US in the 3rd quarter of 2007. To most economists, the recession has been looming for long enough: a treasury bond yield curve inversion has been observed for the last one year (see this article for an explanation of the power of this indicator). It is inevitable that it will happen sometime this year.

However, unlike the previous US recessions, emerging economies won't suffer alongside. Why? Because the US is no longer the main market for their goods and services. The world has shifted from doing business with the US to doing business with China and India. Most world trade is nowadays transacted with the Chinese and the Indians. Therefore, a US recession is unlikely to have the same repercussions as before.

On Singapore, Dr Tan says 'go for the champions'. The champs are your pharmaceuticals, financial services firms, building and construction firms (he always says there is a housing bubble building up... we're in the middle of a housing rush), the gaming industry (IR anyone?) and even something like the F1 (yay it's coming here!).

Sidetrack: Do you know that the Singapore economy is engineered to encourage you to SPEND? Spending stimulates the economy and it is what keeps a recession at bay (Macroeconomics 101 stuff). However, there are artificially designed laws which makes us spenders on a cyclical basis: COEs, which make a new car old every 10 years means that you WILL buy a car every decade; en-bloc sales, whereby property values will reach an optimum point every 30 years, this means property must be sold after 30 years (or it will depreciate). The Gahmen... it is very smart indeed.

WAR!

Dr Tan also thinks that there will be war in 2007. Who vs who? This is too easy: the US will attack Iran. (yup, this is starting to sound like a coffeehouse chat, but it REALLY is an economist giving his predictions here).

The big event of 2007 will be the US attacking Iran. The reasons?

1. Iran might have capability to develop nuclear weapons / it has too much influence over Iraq (civil war) / it can choke the Hormuz Straits etc. These are all very familiar doomsday theories which all have their inkling of truth.

2. The more wild reason is that the US wants to do that to protect the USD. Again I was floored by the reasoning, but it made some sense. Oil is sold in USD but there have been detractors in recent history. Prior to the 2nd Iraqi war, Baghdad started to sell oil in Euros. Of course, they got invaded and went back to the USD market.

Teheran has decided of late that it also wants to set up a euro-based oil exchange. This caused alarm bells to go off in Washington, leading to calls for an overthrow of the regime (and here we all think it's all cos the Americans are anti-Islamist).

But why protect the USD? Dr Tan's macroeconomic brain goes into overdrive at this point and explains how the US actually taxes the world economy through the depreciation of the USD. At this point, I thought it was a little too cheem to understand (and google / wikipedia aren't helping here, so I'll save the theory for examination another day).

So... do look forward to the next couple of months to be an interesting time in the Gulf: plenty of missiles in the sky, for sure.

Buy and Sell

Finally, Dr Tan gets to the part where all the crusty Singaporean uncles in the room wake up and prick up their ears: what to do and when.

Dr Tan says:

1. Don't hold the USD... it is going to weaken.

2. Gold is good. Buy gold. It is cheap and it won't depreciate crazily like that stupid paper called money.

3. If you can buy uranium, go buy and hoard it. Prices will go up. (So will your radioactivity and geiger meter count)

4. Buy bonds. But be careful what bonds you buy cos there're a lot of junk bonds floating around. Avoid these. SG government bonds are good though (even with the crappy return)

5. Avoid US stocks - they are weakening. Uncle Sam is like the plague. Buy Chinese stocks. Buy Indian stocks. The stock exchange indices are on a path to the moon and are not looking back (yet). So buy these. In Singapore, go buy trusty Singtel: Dr Tan says it should hit 4 bucks end of the year.

6. Only buy high-end property, not your crappy HDB flat. Also, avoid ulu places like Seng Kang and Yew Tee: they won't be going en bloc in your lifetime, guaranteed. Always always always (and always) look for condos with en bloc potential.

7. And finally... in summary, Sell in March, Buy in June.

And so concludes Dr Tan's investment outlook.

Notes:
1. Lilian Too is a famous geomancer in Malaysia who popularised the art of Feng Shui. She's also an astute businesswoman who profits from selling (IMHO useless) knick-knacks to boost your luck.
2. You can listen to a podcast of an earlier presentation of the same information at this website.
3. Dr Tan's profile and other information regarding his presentation can be found here.
4. Some of the views expressed here are my own and not Dr Tan Kee Wee's. However, all failed attempts at dramatization are Dr Tan's fault - wah lau... don't you think it's corny that he called his talk 'Letters from Bukit Timah'?

The Great Recap Episode, Part 1

2007-03-13T23:49:00.000+08:00

I guess it is a little late to do one of those New Year's posts. In Dec 2006, it's all fine to talk about how 2006 went for you. In Jan 2007, it's even more poignant to recall the good and bad times that rolled by. By Feb 2007, nobody really cares anymore (they're all smashed by CNY and Valentine's Day).

When it is well into 2007 (March?), nobody writes such retrospective tripe anymore - people just look forward rather than back.

Anyhey, I've got my recap tripe penned away (in longhand and in succinct point form) in my notebook since early Jan 2007. It's no good sitting in that notebook, which is now awash with scribbly blue script, mostly of soundbites captured during interviews that I conducted, and some of those itty-bitty common sense that wise men (and women) dish out to me.

Since it has no place in a notebook (of scribbly throwaway tripe), it shall go somewhere with at least a possibility of some longevity: here on this blog.

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So what defines 2006 for me? We'll go with the following categories.

Places I visited
2006 was the year I visited the most countries ever! (in a single year that is). Of course, my log of visited countries comes nowhere close to the typical INSEADer - crazy travellers, all of them, especially when they descended on Asia - it still meant a watershed in terms of places seen (and money spent).

Where was I last year? In no particular order: Cambodia, France, UK, India, Holland, Thailand, Belgium, Spain, the Czech Republic, Luxembourg, Malaysia, and early in 2007 the Philippines. I was also briefly in the UAE (twice), but that was only in the cavernous Dubai airport (I never got out of there). Also, most of the time, I only visited one city (or the capital city) in the above-mentioned countries. The one with the most visited cities will probably be France, since there was significant driving through much its countryside during my 4 months or so there.

Personal Life
2006 was an upheaval. I gained new friends, and tragically lost a love and lost my grandmother as well. I learnt what it was to manipulate people, and what it felt like to be manipulated as well - I've never felt more used, and I've never been more cunning.

But alas, I never learnt the lesson of guarding one's heart. I've never learnt to harden myself and innure myself against hurt and sorrow. Guess that's why I get hurt and why I sometimes am afraid to care about others. (Ed note: don't write this kind of thing when you know who might read this blog... but who cares right?)

Friends
A year with significant time out of town = less time with friends I've come to loved and cherished. Sure, there were new friends to be had, but I don't think that friendships which lasted for less than a year seriously count: such relationships did not go through that test called TIME. I've lost touch with some good friends, but being home (and somewhat homebound now) has helped build back some of these relationships.

Side note: I felt touched to be invited to a few weddings for this year... it is wonderful when you haven't really spoken to someone in over a year, and the next thing you get is a wedding invitation. Touched.

On another note: For a brief period, my friends were doing the wedding thingy on me: invitations left / right / centre with nary a month to catch my breath. Now, they're doing the kiddy pwn on me: at least 5 friends in the last one year actively made babies (and said bye bye to their sex lives for awhile!), with a couple in the midst of pregnancy and the rest losing sleep and mulling over creative names for birth certificates. Good luck Moms and Dads!

Gawd I'm sooooo jealous of all of you.

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And what of resolutions for 2007? A bit late when it is March to make such pronouncements, but these were heartfelt determined inclinations when they were first penned in Jan:

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Strictly speaking, there are no resolutions. None.

I do have things which I feel I want to achieve for myself in the year 2007. Some personal goals perhaps. However, I do not think that telling myself that I have the resolve to do it in the beginning of the year will mean that I actually do them by the end of the year. It simply means that I don't want to do a self-non-fulfilling proclamation (it's like the self-fulfilling prophecy, but in reverse and applied to meaningless forgettable New Year utterances)

I'll tell you what I feel is a much better approach. Dear readers of my blog (all 10 of you, more or less!), I give you, below, my HOPES for the year 2007:

1) I hope for a job that I can excel in. I hope to see this job for its +ves rather than its -ves. I hope that my work life gets defined by its positive aspects more than its negative aspects, and that I come to appreciate the better aspects of it. (this comes from always having adopted the worst case scenario / outcome outlook with my previous job, which is just SO depressing)

2) I hope to mend fences. Fences with my ex. Fences with people I have offended in the past.

Speaking of which, a particular girl I hope to mend fences with is... ah, let's just say it is this GIRL. Said girl was annoyed by a particular late night activity of mine (which involved me barging into her flat at untold hours of the night demanding to deposit unowned articles of hers while unwillingly letting me in unwittingly witness her in her unflattering PJs - some friends will know who!), and thereafter, showed me what it felt like to get the Subtle Cold Shoulder.

Her style of the Subtle Cold Shoulder was to employ the Photo-Taking Exclusion Principle. Suppose you are in the vicinity of said girl and another girl / guy / whatever. Said girl is your typical camwhore (who isnt?) lugging that ubiquitous digicam on a string around to the whatever event that you're both at. The Photo-Taking Exclusion Principle that she employs will mean that you will SOMEHOW end up helping her take pictures, or be in the vicinity when pictures of her (and whoevers) are being taken, without YOU ever being invited to be in any of them (for more clarification on what it feels to be a victim of this phenomenon, take a look at my theory on the Sour Grapes Syndrome).

By the way, as of March 2007, I think I've mended fences somewhat with said girl.

3) I hope to learn to dance. Rather than just sway to the beat, or spasm on the dancefloor, or tap my foot, it'll be great if I can actually sashay instead. Salsa will probably be the way to go on this, but I do prefer going with someone I know though.

Ed Note: I'm afraid I'm putting this on hold for the moment while I get over this gymming phase-craze I'm currently into.

4) I hope to travel, and I hope to travel at someone else's expense, i.e. I don't spend anything on airfare, food, lodging. I guess this means I get a job and get paid to go places (and hopefully sneak off once in a while to shoot pictures!). I hope to see more of this wonderful world, and I hope to document more of what I see in pictures. I hope and I hope and I hope of all things that this will be something that can actually happen in 2007.

5) Of course, I always hope to write more - and to perhaps also explore whether I have any aptitude in this area. I love to put my thoughts on paper (online more than on paper these days). The problem is that I don't exactly have an 'angle', nor do I stand out amidst the rabble of bloggers out there (ranting and raving their very best). It's like, people blog about somewhat particular niches of experiences, while I talk about all and sundry (and dirty laundry to boot). So while this remains a hope, it is something I hope to have a little recognition for.

I can hope, can't I?

Happy 2007 (3 months in)

Notes:
1. Getting the Subtle Cold Shoulder (SCS) is a little unlike the Cold Shoulder. Getting the Subtle Cold Shoulder is like being in a social situation with the SCS-deliverer (and some other friends) who, through her actions / words / body language, cut you out of the pack you both hang out with. This is usually done in such an undetected manner that both victim and the pack don't come to realise it until the victim start feeling left out (in certain social proceedings, one of which is the camwhoring).
2. The Photo-Taking Exclusion Principle (PTEP) is applied whenever a group photo is being taken, and a particular member or 2 of the group is excluded from it, usually intentionally. The principle is sometimes applied for practical purposes (the group is too large to fit in the shot, someone is not present at supposed group activity), but is on occasion a hint of the Subtle Cold Shoulder being applied. Group-camwhoring is one of those social occasions when PTEP can rear its ugly head, particularly weeks down the road when pockets of the group get together to view photos (on the yearbook, Flickr, albums, wherever); the excluded often feel pangs of unease at being unphotoed.
3. Yes, I do like to come up with stupid, silly acronyms to describe social situations which probably don't happen to everybody. But hey, it's my blog right? That argument always wins. :)

Relationship X Expectation = Happiness

2007-02-22T01:13:00.000+08:00

The ultimate pursuit is that of happiness.

Don't let the religious change your mind about that: I do agree that there is none nobler a purpose than the pursuit of God and the expansion of his flock. But good missionaries are generally also happy missionaries, and ultimately, they pursue God's plan because they are happy to do so. Therefore, and again I say it, the ultimate pursuit is that of happiness. (Caveat: ultimate human pursuit of a non-spiritual nature)

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Of all the things that can make a person unhappy, I think the one that occurs the most often is that feeling of 'Being Left Out'. It's what I call the Sour Grapes Syndrome (SGS), though it doesn't always have to refer to contempt towards things we cannot get. And to explain it, I need to go into the concept of sociability and groups.

We human beings are sociable creatures and we seek other like minded individuals to form groups - it is a way for us to satisfy one of the following needs / urges: the need to validate one's existence on this planet; the urge to build bonds with another, find a soulmate, seek a friend or partner; the need to find others like ourselves; the urge to do things together with others of the same persuasion; and so on.

When we form groups (typically consisting of two or more people) bonds are built between individuals. In a 2 person group, there is only one bond; with 3 people there are 3 bonds; with 4 people there are 6 bonds; and the permutations increase exponentially the more people there are in a group.

We, therefore, find ourselves in a complex tangle of relationships when group sizes balloon. Some bonds will be stronger than others, and therefore, some of us will feel closer to one person over another.

So now, imagine that you belong in a group of 20 or so people. There are some 4 or 5 people who are pretty tight and you think that you are in that small circle of 4-5 people. You expect that, whenever these 4-5 people plan any activities, you will be invited along (because you feel... 'tight' with them). Unfortunately, your expectations do not quite meet up to their expectations of you: one or two of them don't feel that 'tight' with you.

Suppose then that those one or two (let's call them Amy and Amanda) decide to organise a small get-together over dinner. Amy calls Amanda, and they decide to invite the others within their perceived tight group. Both Amy and Amanda feel that you aren't quite as 'tight' with them and thereby omit you from their invitations (which they send via SMS, email, whatever). And woe betide calamitous Jane (Ed note: shites, where did that phrase come from?) YOU happen to learn of the non-invite.

What do you feel? You feel left out. Jealous. You feel like all you've ever put into those bonds you've built were meaningless. You feel upset that Amy and Amanda never felt 'tight' enough with you.

Sour Grapes Syndrome. Half of those times when we feel unhappy, I think we can attribute it to that feeling of being left out, the feeling that we were meant for good things but were deprived of them because someone else felt we were not worthy.

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I am sure you've liked someone before.

Let's suppose you are a guy.

And you like this girl called Amelie.

You get close to Amelie, as others who are attracted attempt the same thing too.

Amelie isn't seeing anyone in particular, and you fancy your chances as being better than most.

One day, Amelie suggests that you both catch a particular movie that you both are interested in.

You agree. You are on Cloud #9 because the girl of your dreams has asked you out on a date. You're ecstatic and looking forward to the opportunity to clutch her hand / lend her your jacket to keep her warm / offer your shoulder to cry on during the weepy scenes / have your arm gripped tightly as she scream her lungs out when terror strikes.

So you show up at the appointed time, at the appointed place. Happy and looking forward to quality time with your object of affection.

Except that it isn't just with her. It is with her and her whole posse of other hanger-ons / best buds / bitchy girlfriends / brother / sister / dog.

Suffice to say, it is not a date. It is more akin to an outing.

You aren't happy. Why?

Because you expected a date with the girl you like. Not a freaking group outing with her other best friend or sister or third cousin. It is worser still when it is a competitor or another more interesting guy.

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Expectations we built have a direct effect on our own happiness. When we get what we expect to get, when things go the way we want them to, we tend to be happier individuals.

Relationships too have a way of making us happy or unhappy. Relationships are also a function of the groups we form for ourselves - and what we feel about the relationships in our lives (the expectations) tend to colour how happy we are about those relationships.

Be realistic in how you feel about the people in your life. I think happiness comes from knowing that nobody out there is responsible for making you happy - only you yourself are capable of that.

You are capable of that because only YOU are able to manage your own expectations.

Golf Ga-Ga

2007-02-20T10:06:00.000+08:00

1. Golf is a game about achieving perfection. I think this is the reason why top level executives (and many others who strive to be one of them, those wannabes) are so attracted to the beautiful game: because it is a game that requires perfection in order to succeed.

2. There are so many levels to how golf tests the perfectionist, chief among which is 'The Swing'. The way one swings a golf club determines the ball's trajectory. In the case of a beginner at the driving range (yours truly being one), about 1 out of 5 times, the ball flies in a somewhat agreeable arc. The rest of the time, one of the following happens: the ball limps and rolls away awkwardly; the ball whacks into the lane divider violently and announces your terrible golf skills for all to hear; the ball flies too far left or too far right of where you intend it to go; or you miss entirely and subsequently pretend that you were just doing a dry run of a swing.

3. Golf gear is designed by Darth Vader. Really. Just wearing my golf glove alone makes me feel like a Stormtrooper:

Now, all I need are White / Black golf shoes, and an uber-cool Stormtrooper helmet to complete the look. :)

4. Hitting that perfect swing is an indescribable feeling: the word that comes closest is 'SHIOK' (non-Singaporean readers, click the link, go pick up some Singlish). And when the club connects with the ball in the right way, a satisfying sound is emitted 'PUCK', the ball flies in the right trajectory (a low curve for the 7-iron, a high curl for the pulling wedge, and that far far away feeling with the 5-wood)... in other words, perfection. It is so intoxicatingly sweet to have hit 'the spot' that one feels willing to give up sex forever if he can keep hitting balls that way... forever and ever.

5. And that's where we come to the point where I think golf is... a 'symbol' for sex. In this game, you play with a club (a somewhat phallic thing, don't you think?) and swing it around using both your hands; you hit balls; you 'score' when you get your ball into a hole; some of your clubs are known as woods - no, not Tiger we're talking about here, but those golf clubs you wrap in socks - and the woods are typically 'bulbous' and you have to frequently wrap them in 'protective gear'; the golf course is littered with obstacles like sand traps and water hazards - much like how the pursuit of sex is laden with booby traps of its own; golf courses are designed to be undulating slopes - which mimic the sinuous curves of the alluring female; oh... I can go on and on.

6. Picking up golf has only been possible because I am currently single. Being a singleton has its advantages: I can indulge in more meaningless usage of my time - not that whacking balls at the driving range is meaningless, mind you, but in comparison to quality time with the significant other, whacking golf balls can pale in comparison as a better use of scarce resources (as time goes). Worser still if your significant other cannot appreciate the activity, and worser still if she cannot see why it supercedes time spent cuddling, kissing, and... shit, I'm seriously lacking affection. :(

Suckers

2007-02-17T14:26:00.000+08:00

The first principle in any relationship, work, or life in general rests on the fact that we are governed by the rule of reciprocity.

When you have an appreciation for that rule, you can generally extrapolate from that and come to a fair understanding of the state of human relationships.

Reciprocity is the principle that when you give, you receive. You do me a favour, and I do one for you in return. It is mostly an unsaid, unmentioned rule - largely because if you've lived by it all your life, you should never have to bring up the fact that you expect anything less than that. Also, decorum dictates that we do not embarrass another by 'asking' to be reciprocated: typically, a hint suffices.

So how does reciprocity work? There are a few ways, the simplest of it is this: you do something for another, you expect something in return, probably of a similar value (monetary or in kind, that is entirely up to you to judge). Suppose that, today, I pay for your meal. Tomorrow, you'll pay for mine, particularly if it comes to something similar in value. I won't bring up the fact that I had paid for your meal, because it is an unwritten rule that you should reciprocate, and of course there is the expectation that you will do 'what is right'.

Reciprocity also works in the 'negative' sense as well. If you kill my brother, I will want to kill you - i.e. revenge, vengeance. Vengeance is but reciprocity, but expressed in a negative manner.

Naturally, most of us understand the power of this social contract; to violate it will cause discomfort and unease, and only people in love or people so religiously compelled won't expect reciprocation from another individual. And why do I say that it is the base rule for most human relationships?

Take any situation where there is a giving or taking involved and explore it for a second: see if you find an exchange between the parties involved. E.g. the buskers on the street singing / dancing for all to see: you see them sing, feel a twinge of appreciation / pity / and thereby feel compelled to do something to make that feeling 'go away'; and thereby, you drop in a few cans in that tin can, hoping to ease the guilt / show your appreciation / .

However, reciprocity works best under the 'Best Left Unsaid' rule: it is most powerful when the expectation is not communicated, but inherently required; it is weakest when violaters of the rule find a way around it.

Reciprocity is not a well-understood principle for those in love, those who are loved, and the many shades of love that colour the space between.

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If you understand what I mean by that principle, then you will understand where I'm coming from when I talk about what I want to next...

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A while back, when I felt bad about having stopped blogging, I mentioned that I wanted to write a post about succubi. I've changed my mind somewhat about what I wanted to say on that topic.

Largely speaking, I think the idea behind being a succubus is that being one violates the reciprocity principle because there is one party willing to give (the lovesick fool most likely), and one party culpable and capable of leeching (the beneficiary).

The theme is all too familiar to people who have fallen for the likes of, among others, gold diggers, irresistibly beautiful women, the aloof characters, and all manners spanning the various categories.

I find that women who are incapable of giving are attractive (and that, in part, has been my failing). They demand your time, your energy, and have an inordinate ability to consume more of either. Like the drug addict in The Protege (Ed note: great drama, go see), they'll say anything to get what they can from you (within limits - I exaggerate the extent of their machinations of course).

I don't think it is that such women are incapable of loving others; I just think that they cannot love another more than they love themselves. Like the narcissist who falls in love with his own reflection, their sole purpose in life is self-gratification. The love for themselves compel them to find others who can shower love upon them - it is a means by which they find meaning for their pithy existence. It is the only they have the assurance that they are not loving themselves solely, but that there are others who feel they're worthy of love too.

However, the inability to give to others is what fails for the succubus: she takes and is unable to give in return, in a suitable way or for a suitable amount. The relationship with a succubus is doomed because the giver (lovefool) has expectations, and these expectations being unmet will generate discontent. Ultimately, there comes a point where discontent leads to hate, and leads to ill will.

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I have the notion that people can change. I have also a probably naive notion that people can change for love. I don't necessarily mean romantic love though, for love exists in many forms and ways (and Valentine's Day should have brought home that point, both with the singletons and the couplings out there).

I don't think love changes people as much as the giver (lovefool) wants to, and for that, humans are such failures. Perhaps this is also the reason why some find religion to be the perfect escape: when one has received love unconditionally, what else is there to ask for from another uncaring human being?

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In retrospect, I have learnt little from loving others, except to know that I have also been one to give too little in return - perhaps what I see in myself has been reflected in what I see in others. In all too real a manner, I have surrounded myself with people that I know are a reflection of my true nature. In so doing, I have never felt more alone.

I have never felt more like an island, adrift.

History Lessons

2007-02-05T22:28:00.000+08:00

It is seldom that I blog about movies that I've watched. To escape the mundanity that was existence today, I sneaked off with a good buddy (out on an afternoon birthday treat away from work) to watch a movie about, of all things, dealing with the harsh reality of existence.

Ah, I'm being too harsh a critic. Half Nelson is a nice little film about a history teacher cum basketball coach who's also a drug addict. He teaches history primarily through the use of dialectics, the idea that opposing forces drive change, and history is about change.

The film also tracks his friendship with one of his students, a black girl who is quite self-reliant, and whose friendship with a drug courier shapes the other half of the plot. While the teacher descends into a drug-fueled life plunge just to escape a reality that he cannot change (even while he preaches it), the student finds herself confused into helping her brother's friend run drugs (it didn't help for her to also find out her teacher's a druggie).

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Anyhow, that is the plot. Oh, and lead actor Ryan Gosling is nominated for Best Actor for the Academy Awards (who won last year? I don't recall).

For me, what was more interesting was to hear about the notion of dialectics (Check out this very simple to understand website to read about Dialectics - they even make references to the film).

To understand change, Dialectics philosophers preach that there are 3 rules (Ryan Gosling above has just written down the first one for his class):

1. Every object and process is made of opposing forces or opposing sides: a historically relevant example for Singapore would be its independence from Malaysia. On one side, there is Lee Kuan Yew and the PAP, who do not want Singapore separated from Malaysia; on the other, there is Tunku Abdul Rahman and UMNO, who can't wait to get rid of the pain in the neck that is Singapore.

2. Gradual changes lead to turning points, where one opposite overcomes the other: Racial riots were rife in Singapore, fanned in part by accusations of unfair treatment of Malays in Singapore, while Chinese were incensed by the federal government's policy of affirmative action. Singapore was also economically better off - there was concern of a shift in economic power from the main capital of KL to Chinese-dominated Singapore. The turning point came when the Malaysian parliament voted to expel Singapore from Malaysia as a way of ending the racial riots and rid themselves of the problem once and for all.

3. Change moves in spirals, not circles: For Singapore, there was no turning back. The separation from Malaysia resulted in it moving in a direction that was of its own design, free of intervention from meddlesome Malaysia politicians. However, we see that the forces that drive us apart ultimately also bring us closer - but not to the point of re-unification. Through diplomatic efforts, one force (the force of 'unity') bring us closer again through better ties - economically, politically etc.

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I like this framework for change: I wished they had taught it in b-school or back in the consulting company I worked at. It would have made it easier to show people how system implementations are meant to change them (for good or for better, change is something to live with).

However, I don't think history's all about change: history is also about circumstances. Because of circumstances beyond our control, we are plunged into particular interesting crossroads in history. Because of circumstances which provides the power for one side to dominate another, that side can push change more effectively.

I think it is important to study change (or history for that matter) for the opposing forces there exist, the particular turning points (which is what leads to history teachers making us memorise meaningless dates), and the irrevocable but subtle movement of change in a spiral manner. It is also important to see why one side came to dominate another. It is also important to understand which circumstances made it possible for a change to occur.

Think about it.

Learning from Searching

2007-01-24T14:00:00.000+08:00

It was a most unpleasant experience: Having to deal with another person's disappointment and being forced to be too honest.

While helping out in the search firm I'm currently in, I'm made to run interviews with job candidates often. I ran one today where the candidate was obviously not a fit for the position that was advertised: the misfit was not in the skillsets - the CV was good. The misfit was in the attitude and required behaviour of the candidate, who just did not have the right frame of mind I was looking for.

The candidate looked shifty and nervous. The candidate could not maintain eye contact. The candidate's body language conveyed her discomfort with the situation, and while I did my best to put her at ease, she distrusted me. The candidate hated search firms and what they do. The candidate had seen too much, been through too much nonsense and it showed.

Anyhow, I am learning new things while on my current job, and I've learnt a few things today:

1. It is possible to tell from a person's tone of voice certain characteristics and traits about him / her. I have to trust my guts / instincts more when being on a conversation over the phone. If it doesn't feel right, I should not have proceeded. The vibes that one feels do matter.

2. Over the phone, I could have also asked more questions: people are usually more willing to share information over the phone if they know it will save them time (case in point: a particular job seeker could have establised that it is unnecessary for her to come, because she lacks certain credentials, thus avoiding meeting up personally and finding out at the end that she isn't a fit at all).

3. I should not waste another person's time. He / she is willing to see me for a purpose, and that purpose cannot be compromised by me not having done my job well. If I had done my job well, the meeting (and perceived waste of time) could have been avoided.

4. I should never have mentioned the ugly word 'fit'. Fitting people may be the job I do, but if I mentioned that 'fit' was what I am looking for, it forces people that I see into uncomfortable ideas regarding their perceived performance.

Instead, Instead, Instead

2007-01-23T00:11:00.000+08:00

I'm appalled at the state of English spelling on the Internet. Kids out there seem to have brought their IRC-speak into SMS-speak and eventually allowed all of that unintelligible nonsense become some form of netspeak.

I'm not complaining though: I'm guilty of using my own abbreviations and shortened words as well, but a google search I did a long time ago (back when I was thinking about applying to B-school) showed me something interesting about misspelling words. I googled "INSEAD" and when analysing the search results, I saw links to: INSEAD's various websites; newspaper articles referring to the school; the odd gushy blog post from alumni, participants or newbie; and a whole ton of unrelated pages trawled out by the fantastic search engine.

The unrelated pages all had ONE trait: on each and every one of them, the author of that page had mis-spelt the word "instead". Instead of typing "instead", their quick fingers missed the 'T'. It's probably one of those mistakes which are rather easy to miss when scanning for typos. When Google bolds each and everyone of those mistakes though, it can end up somewhat embarrassing to look at.

Fast forward to present day: I ran the search again in Google today and it turns out that the search engine's code has been updated - it looks for INSEAD in keywords, titles, and in articles where words such as 'B-school' and 'MBA' appear. Sure took them long enough to fix it - probably attributable to the recent spike in Google hirings at INSEAD.

For the heck of it, I also ran the same search through Technorati and Google's Blog Search. Technorati's 5th ranked search result was a typo (top 4 were INSEAD related). Blog Search did better: result #75 was its first typo related retrieval.

Moral of the story? Having a name that is one letter shy of an easily misspelt and often used word is probably not a good idea.

PS: Some folks here have made a business out of helping folks out there with misspelt translations. Interesting stuff, but INSEAD is unfortunately not a misspelling for 'instead'... it is a real-life B-school alas.

PSS: Some folks mentioned in this article cashes in on the spelling misfortunes of others to make that quick buck on eBay. Damn... I should have thought of that. Sure beats some of the stupid business ideas I've heard in B-school.

PSSS: I'm putting a lot more hyperlinks in my blog these days - it makes the Snap Preview so much cooler (I do have a nagging feeling though that some folks out there dislike having hyperlinks blow up like word bubbles in a comic book)

On Pretty Much Everything in My Life Since Whenever

2007-01-21T19:00:00.000+08:00

1. I'm still job-hunting. It doesn't feel like hunting much anymore: Job-Hunting sounds like the kind of thing where you traipse around hilly forestland cradling a rifle, ears cocked and eyes darting from side to side, waiting to pounce upon unsuspecting deer. My job hunting is more like a pimping parade where I sell myself like a two-bit whore to the most down and out drive-by looking for a cheap and good time. I don't want to sell myself short; I also don't want to live through half of this fantabulous year STILL housed with my parents (which is where that income... IN-COME... will come in handy).

2. I'm not all bitter and sarcastic though. Life threw me a curve ball in the form of an old secondary school friend. He needed help at his search firm (otherwise known as employment or recruitment agency, but search firm sounds waaaaay cooler) and I gladly jumped at the offer.

The search industry is highly saturated - there are all kinds of firms filling every area of executive search possible. Segment it by industry and you have professionals serving banks, manufacturers, FMCG companies etc. Segment it by function and you have firms that keep files on finance, HR, customer service, marketing, and IT professionals among others. Segment it by complexity and you might see firms looking for management positions or trying to fill temp staff.

And if you don't know where to start when looking for a job, head down to International Plaza and take the lift to the highest floor; ditch the lift and knock on all doors next to signs that have either of the following words: "Consultancy", "Talent", "Recruitment", "Services". Chances are, they are an agency and you can leave your CV behind (no guarantees).

3. Speaking of that search strategy, there was a good reason why my friend locks the door to his office (at International Plaza... affectionately known among the HR-literati as IP). There are so many job seekers doing the hit-and-miss that the door gets an average of 8 knocks a day. Most of the time, they try twisting the knob and go away after finding no one home (we don't open it).

On occasions, I have had to entertain the lucky few who managed to enter because one of us forgets to lock the door - it isn't pleasant (for me): "We don't entertain walk-ins" seem to work the charm and the job seeker tries his luck next door; "We don't have positions at the moment" seem to trigger other desperate measures so I don't use that line anymore; "We are not an employment agency" is a partial lie which I hate to employ. IP being recruitment firm central (Adecco's among the biggest here), these seekers are bound to find something eventually.

4. What is it about hitting that big 30 which makes a guy worry? Nearing 30, your typical Singaporean dude will start thinking about settling down - or when he stops thinking about it, will settle for NEVER settling down, but most guys do the wanna-settle-down thinking more than the never-gonna-settle thinking. It preoccupies him, becomes him, and defines him. He becomes driven by it, or will end up not caring (i.e. never-gonna-settle).

Let's see what happens to the wanna-settle-down guy: he becomes less of a risk-taker, preferring options that guarantee him more safety, assurance and perhaps less uncertainty; the settle-down mentality guides all future actions: perhaps he plans more financially, perhaps he sees more people (if he's still single), perhaps he decides not to seek a job overseas; Singapore's inhibiting social norms start panicking him out: words such as ROM, flat-apartment-condo, ceremony, and wedding dinner start becoming a part of the vocabulary; oh yes, there is that ring shopping and damn marketing-speak about how expensive the ring should be (Side note: bring your girlfriend to watch Blood Diamond to convince her of evil machinations behind the nasty diamond trade - she might change her mind about whining for that expensive piece of carbon; convince her by telling her it stars a fat Leonardo DiCaprio).

It all stems from the time-bomb notion: the clock is ticking away and counting down the minutes of your short existence; brief lives indeed. To make the most of the time you have on earth, to live it to its fullest extent possible, you feel you have to settle down. 30 is the point, the barrier. You are now a man and a boy no longer (yes, you'd better be). Time's running out. It doesn't help that your friends are settling down. It doesn't help that some of them are into their 2nd kid already. It doesn't help to forget to bring Christmas presents for little kiddies running around calling you uncle (ack... I'm an uncle now).

Oh yes, I turned 30 last year but hey, I still think about silly stuff like this. :)

5. So what did I do for New Year? I met one friend, and then I met another. With friend #1, it was coffee, cake, and chat. With her, it is always those 3 C's whenever we decide that we need each other's company. We summed up our 2006, talked about new year resolutions (she resolves to be a better organised person; I don't make resolutions, but I did say something about learning to dance). Friend #1 is going on to better things in her life and walks away, head held high - she calls later to wish me a Happy New Year and I've never felt happier that there are friends who remember you. May distance never be a barrier to our friendship.

Friend #2 was a different encounter: we sat down and watched a DVD. It's like the DVD-rental relationship: rent DVD, sit down with popcorn (or in our case, some ice cream) and watch the time away. Oh yes, there is that obligatory switch over to Mediacorp's Channel 5 to count down (they are supposedly 'official time'). The count down program, as with any count-down programs by Mediacorp in the last 20 odd years, sucked: some star will be singing, followed by another star, and then the time comes to count down, they will count down, sing Auld Lang Syne, and its back to more of the same. Oh and it MUST be hosted by Gurmit Singh and Michelle Chia.

After catching some shut eye, we headed out to watch the sun rise and get breakfast. Not much sun for the first day of 2007 though... not that it portends anything of the future - I do hope the sun shines down favourably on the new year.

6. I bought two books a week back, each for a very different reason. The Long Tail is a book about how the Internet phenomenon is bringing society back to being the niche culture it was before mass media came into existence. On the other hand, Guns, Germs and Steel is a 10,000 walk through the history of the world as we know it. Both books have similarities: the Long Tail offers a framework for understanding how to market products to the niche cultures of today (and why they matter - the niches are the long tail of the title); Guns, Germs and Steel go behind the scenes to understand the real forces that shaped history, and comes to an understanding of why Western European civilization came to dominate in recent history.

The reasons behind buying them differ. I bought the latter book because I'm a sucker for popular books which take a crack at explaining history (or sociology, or applied economics); I intend to look smart while reading it and then telling people about views from it (without actually telling them about the source - how smart). The former book I bought for a somewhat nefarious reason: to try to have something intelligent to say at a job interview. The interviewer I was meeting had talked about the book before and I thought it might impressed him if I can say something about it (I did, but in a rather clumsy way, alluded to the book and my praise for its theories).

The challenge is now to actually read them. Given the busy work at IP. Given some of the travelling that I will be doing. Given the hectic search for a job. Given this. Given that.

7. In other news, this is one of those years where marriageable folk everywhere will rush to book that lucky date for their wedding dinner. Which one am I talking about? How about the 7th of July, 2007? And this is a good point on which to end this post: point #7.

Have a lucky 2007 ahead.

Haiku 2/1/2007

2007-01-03T00:07:00.000+08:00

Here lie pieces of myself

A jigsaw puzzle

Missing the piece with my heart

Framing the Great Casino Debate as an Ethical Issue - Prelude

2007-01-02T14:30:00.000+08:00

This was such a fun essay to write (over 2 days, little sleep, and hackneyed research done via the internet) that I thought it a waste not to put it on my blog. Here goes!

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Singapore’s Great Casino Debate

An individual perspective of the ethical dilemma posed by the ‘Integrated Resorts’ proposal to Singapore as a society

Executive Summary

The purpose of this essay is to retrospectively analyze the debate over the proposal to build casinos in Singapore. The debate took place among the general public, the press and within Singapore’s ruling government (both within the Parliament and cabinet of ministers). The proposal was one by the Singapore Tourism Board to build casinos in Singapore in order to boost tourism revenue.

Beyond the economic benefits of the proposal, the public at large and many concerned public figures brought up the issue of social problems that can result from having a casino in Singapore. This essay aims to explore the dilemma between the obvious – and measurable – economic benefits that can be achieved through revenues from casino operations, and the subtle – and often subjective – social problems that arise from the introduction of such an ‘evil’.

Note: from time to time, the essay will utilize the phrase ‘Integrated Resort’ (IR). The IR is a resort concept synonymous with the model of casinos as seen in Las Vegas and Johannesburg, i.e. where the casinos are a component of a larger themed entertainment facility that is (sometimes) targeted towards the family. It is the author’s view that adoption of the IR concept (by the government in its proceedings) is meant to 1) de-emphasize the gaming aspect of the proposal, thus softening the perception that it might be condoning vice; and 2) target a broader market of tourists (and not just high-rolling punters or ‘whales’). The phrase IR will be used interchangeably to mean casino, and vice versa.

History of the Casino Debate

The Singapore Tourism Board (STB) was established in 1964 with the mandate to promote Singapore as a tourist destination. The STB undertakes projects such as the construction of theme parks and targeted overseas promotional activities to boost tourism-related visits to Singapore. For a long time now, it has advocated the development of a casino in Singapore to attract more tourists and increase Singapore’s share of the Asia-Pacific tourism market. Until recently, the government has always rejected the idea of building a casino. During the early phases of Singapore’s development as a nation, the government’s focus was on building Singapore’s manufacturing and industrial capabilities: there was no economic need for a casino given the growth in GDP and the prosperity enjoyed by the nation.

Lately, however, the government had decided to reconsider the decision. In 2004, the idea was once again mooted. The proposal was internally discussed by the Members of the Cabinet and the decision was announced to the general public in April 2005. A parliamentary debate was held in the same month to debate the issue, and opinions both in support of, and against, the proposal were aired. Similarly, a public debate also took place among concerned citizens, with opinions largely expressed in the press and on the Internet.

The Economic Rationale for the IRs

The STB’s invitation for IR concepts attracted 19 submissions, and out of that pool, it was estimated that if 2 IRs are built, SGD 5 billion will need to be invested and 35,000 jobs will be created for the whole economy. The economic impact is significant: when fully operational, the 2 IRs’ contribution will increase Singapore’s GDP by 1% annually. The construction of the IRs will thus contribute significantly to boosting Singapore’s economy through foreign direct investment, the construction sector during the ramp-up phase, and the services sector in its day-to-day operations when completed.

On a related note, Singapore’s tourism industry has been on the decline. Singapore’s dollar share of Asia-Pacific travel has been falling: between 1998 and 2002, Singapore’s share of East Asia Pacific tourism receipts fell from 8.2% to 5.8% ; between 1994 and 2003, Singapore’s Total Expenditure of Visitors (TEV) fell 38% from SGD 7 billion (See Table 1). In considering the proposed IRs, the Singapore government was hoping to boost its flagging tourism industry – previously, the STB had experimented with theme parks, coordinated promotional sales events and contrived festivals. All had failed to revive an industry that is in decline – the only key success area has been in the promotion of Singapore as a location for business travel and Meetings, Incentive Travel, Conventions and Exhibitions (MICE). In effect, the Singapore government recognizes that Singapore (on the whole) as a tourist attraction is not viable with its current offerings and it needs to seek new means of attracting visitors to Singapore.

Table 1: Total Expenditure of Visitors (S$ Million), Yearly (Source: STB Website)
Year TEV (SGD Million)
1994 7049.8
1995 7350
1996 6755.5
1997 6207.4
1998 5493.6
1999 6033.3
2000 6292.6
2001 5699.3
2002 5425.8
2003 4315.6

Additionally, the Singapore government has recognized that its position as a desirable manufacturing base is no longer tenable. Investments in the manufacturing sector have stagnated at around SGD 8 billion and MNC capital expenditure have migrated to low cost countries in recent years. A recent case is California-based Maxtor Corp, a hard-disk drive manufacturer. In 2006 it closed two plants in Singapore and moved the operations to China – in addition to the retrenchment of 5,500 Singaporean workers, the move also affected small local suppliers of Maxtor Corp . The slow decline of the manufacturing sector has prompted the government to pursue growth in more lucrative sectors – in particular, a key growth area for Singapore is the services sector, within which the IRs are expected to generate investments, income and jobs when they are built.

Another compelling reason for setting up the IRs is that tourism within East Asia Pacific is booming. In particular, with China easing travel restrictions on its citizens there will be increasing demand for gaming facilities within a reasonable distance (in the future, the majority of Chinese travellers are most likely to be punters seeking to gamble, and current legislation in China forbids the construction and operation of casinos). Whether or not Singapore went ahead with the decision to build casinos, the surge in demand for such services will compel regional countries to compete and offer such services. The competitive situation is such that supply will rise to meet demand, whether or not Singapore chooses to compete for that particular tourist dollar.

While Singapore is able to attract investors due to its various advantages over its South East Asian neighbours, prospective investors are just as likely to set up casino resorts in locations such as Phuket and Bali – locations which are not far from Singapore in any case. As such, a pre-emptive measure to build IRs in Singapore might minimize the eventual impact of subsequent competition in the South East Asian region.

The Gambling Landscape in Singapore

The officially legal gambling channel comes in the guise of the Singapore Totalisator Board. It operates two businesses: the Singapore Turf Club, whose main source of revenue come from betting proceeds earned from horse-racing and totalisator operations; and Singapore Pools, whose revenue comes from running lotteries (operated via 3 distinct and separate means, namely 4D, Toto, and Singapore Sweep) and football betting. The proceeds from the operation of the two entities are channelled to charitable causes, the arts, community development and are generally meant to benefit other worthwhile causes in Singapore .

Other than the officially sanctioned means of gambling, Singaporeans also have access to ‘jackpot rooms’ in some country clubs and semi-union based clubhouses. These gaming facilities often take up a small area and only provide slot machines. Elsewhere, Singaporeans also punt on gambling sites on the internet, without regulation or restriction by the government.

Beyond the locally available options, Singaporeans also travel overseas for the purpose of gambling. The two most popular (and accessible) modes are Genting Resort in Malaysia and cruise ships to nowhere. Genting Resort is within a 5-hr coach ride from Singapore and offers full casino facilities along with a resort and theme park. Cruise operators in Singapore run cruise ships which operate casinos onboard (once they have sailed to international waters and are, legally, not within Singapore’s jurisdiction). The ships typically depart and return to Singapore without calling at any other ports.

It is thus a fact that Singaporeans can access gambling facilities easily. In a ministerial statement by the Prime Minister during the IR debate in parliament, he said that “Every year, Singaporeans spend $6 billion on legal gambling in Singapore, and another $1.5 billion in cruises and offshore casinos.” It appears to be clear that there is profit to be made from the $1.5 billion in gambling proceeds that go overseas.

The Social Problems

The first and foremost question in the debate was whether the casino components of the IRs will undermine societal values. As a society, the government perceived Singaporeans as valuing fairness, meritocracy, integrity and hard work. In some quarters, it is feared that the presence of a casino will erode the Singapore work ethic: the casinos might promote the idea of dependence on gambling and luck as a means of making money (as opposed to hard work). The prevailing view on this issue is that the government needed to act as custodian and enforcer of Singapore’s core values: in allowing IRs, it might be seen to compromise on this stance. The contrary view is that the government should not act in such a paternalistic manner, since such core values are hardly perceived to be accepted nationwide nor are they necessarily applicable to each and every Singaporean individual.

A concomitant danger was that the setting up of a casino might lead to increase in incidences of organized crime and law and order issues. Activities associated with the operations of casinos run the gamut of illegal money lending, prostitution, money laundering and criminal gangs. It has been observed that such a situation had already occurred in Macau: the involvement of triads in Macau’s casinos has led to rampant prostitution and other criminal activities. There is much concern that Singapore’s reputation as a safe and secure place might be ruined if the IRs ever degenerate to that level.

The third concern is that the presence of casinos in Singapore might lead to an increase in cases of problem gambling. This is particularly so in the case of pathological gambling, which is a mental health disorder much akin to a gambling disorder. Sufferers become preoccupied with gambling and are compelled to bet frequently and with increasingly higher stakes. Sufferers also experience withdrawal symptoms if prevented from gambling. Pathological gamblers have been known to gamble too much: to the point of both causing harm to self and family.

Two high profile cases during the period of the debate highlight the extent of the problems created by problem gamblers. Chia Teck Leng, 45, was formerly a finance manager at Asia Pacific Breweries. He got addicted to gambling in 1994 after going for a cruise and was taking on severe debt to finance his gambling habit. Later, he falsified documents purportedly from his company and cheated banks of a total of SGD 117 million. He was caught and subsequently sentenced to 42 years in jail. While in prison, Chia Teck Leng wrote a paper entitled ‘Taming the Casino Dragon’ exhorting the Singapore government to institute seemingly discriminatory measures to prevent Singaporeans from being addicted to gambling. This is a case of a problem gambler who took to crime as a solution to his problems – these are the kind of gamblers which opponents of the IR proposal have been most vocal in warning about.

On a more tragic (and also extreme) note, Simon Lee, 40, jumped to his death from his high-rise flat after killing his wife and two young children in a murder-cum-suicide pact. Simon Lee was found to have crippling gambling debts despite earning SGD 2,000 a month. He had also been gambling for more than 10 years on horses, numbers, soccer, and in casinos. Apparently seeing no solution to his plight, he decided to end his misery by killing himself and his family. This is an extreme case of a problem gambler who took his own life – most of them go into financial ruin but rarely go so far as to commit suicide. Unfortunately for proponents of the IR proposal, such high-profile cases make sensational news. Opponents of the IRs, whether they are religious groups or other social concern, argue that the IRs will accentuate the number of such incidents if left unaddressed.

The Decision

On 18 Apr 2005, the government announced the decision that the IR proposal will go ahead and planned to evaluate bids for two sites in the months to follow. A debate in parliament brought about opinions both for and against the proposal, but since the decision had already been made by the cabinet, the parliamentary debates in no way changed the outcome of the decision.

What it did achieve though was that it highlighted the divisive nature of the casino issue: on the one hand, proponents of the proposal tended to be biased towards their views of the economic realities of Singapore and recognize the potential upsides in building the IRs. Opponents of the proposal, though, tended to hark upon the social ills associated with casinos, but often do not have substantive evidence or data to support their claim – information on other cities which are exposed to similar issues were inconclusive as to the full impact, and mitigating factors, of the proposal to build an IR.

Preventive Measures Adopted

In addressing fears over the erosion of the Singapore work ethic and core values, it is perhaps notable that the Prime Minister made a mention towards a less paternalistic approach. Lee Hsien Loong, in his speech during the parliamentary debate, mentioned the role of schools, the family and religious and social groups, in the inculcation of values, and the transmission of civics and moral education . It is a clear signal from the government that, whether or not the IRs are built, the onus is on society to build its own value systems and transmit them to future generations of Singaporeans. The evils associated with gambling as a vice already exist (in its various guises) and values as they are now will not be significantly degenerated as a result of the IRs.

On the issue of increased criminal activity, it is no doubt that the authorities in Singapore will be strict in this regard: historically, Singapore’s enforcement agencies have been tough on vice and related activities. There will be the formation of a special police unit to supervise law enforcement in all activities related to casinos. A casino regulatory body will also be established to help manage some of the social impact of the casinos: for example, the regulatory authority will screen principal shareholders, directors, and employees to minimize any infiltration of criminal elements into casinos. The regulator will also monitor supplier relationships to ensure that all transactions are above board, and also seek international best practices for dealing with money laundering and other associated criminal activities.

Most of the debate focused on measures to curb incidences of problem gambling, and to proactively help gamblers and affected family members cope with such problems. Firstly, the IRs will put in place an entrance levy fee of SGD 100 per visit, or SGD 2,000 for visits over a calendar year. The entry levy is designed to signal to the public at large that gambling is to be considered an expense, and not a money-making enterprise. It is also meant to discourage casual gambling. The minimum age limit for entry is 21 years so as to prevent children and teens from being unduly exposed.

Another measure to limit the exposure of compulsive gamblers is in the institution of exclusion measures. Compulsive gamblers may voluntarily opt for self-exclusion, or they can be coaxed by concerned family members to be counselled and apply for self-exclusion with the National Council on Gambling (the authority set up by the government to regulate the gambling industry). The Council goes further: it will bar those also in poor financial health such as bankrupts, people with poor credit records and people on welfare, from entering the IRs in the future. The voluntary exclusion and other exclusionary measures are already used in other casinos around the world.

To deal with the problem of pathological gamblers, Singapore’s Institute of Mental Health runs a Community Addictions Management Program (CAMP). CAMP acts as a centre for treating addictions (among which are gambling addictions and substance abuse related addictions) and also conduct public education messages to that effect. With the spotlight now on measures for dealing with gambling addiction, CAMP now has the mandate to improve facilities and meet world-class benchmarks as set by experienced addiction centres in the US.

In addition to a treatment facility, the Ministry of Health also focused on public awareness campaigns in the mass media, investment in research on treatment practices, and working with voluntary welfare organisations to deal with problem gambling. Despite the small number of cases (an estimated 100 patients were treated for gambling addiction in 2004), the Singapore government has demonstrated an ample commitment towards dealing with the potential ills that might be introduced with the IRs.

A Personal Point of View

Singapore’s Great Casino Debate highlights the case of an ethical dilemma faced by the Singapore government. The decision to build the IRs was based on economic rationality: the IRs will bring in foreign investment, create jobs and spur the growth of the economy. In its decision making process, the government sought the feedback of its citizens and various social groups: however, no one other than the members of the cabinet had the voting ability to influence the decision – even when the issue was debated in parliament, the cabinet had already made the decision to go ahead with the IRs (having internally considered the issue over several months).

A more populist approach might be to hold a referendum on the issue (as advocated by a particular opposition party). In that way, the rational actor (in this instance the Cabinet of Ministers) can transfer the responsibility for making the decision to society as a whole, rather than bear the burden of the decision alone. However, this argument detracts from the fact that the government had been democratically elected by its people, and is thus given the mandate to act on their behalf on issues of macroeconomics (as far as the economic rationality of it is concerned).

What a referendum might have served to do though is to allow the public to shape the outcome of the decision based on its own values system. The argument goes that the government might not fully represent society’s values or moral concerns, and a general referendum will serve to better reflect the moral pulse of the country. On this note, I am somewhat more supportive of the notion that the public should be allowed to decide, although the imperative economic urgency of the situation did not warrant the government allowing a possibility of the motion being defeated.

Of more interest to myself as the author are the types of ethical values espoused during the debate itself. The majority of the opponents’ arguments centred on the effects that the IRs will have on society and the individual. The particular worries about erosion of societal values, crime and individual gambling problems stem from the adoption of a deontological point of view. Deontological ethics holds that decisions should be made solely by considering one’s duty and rules within which one operates. It is an approach with an emphasis on the how things are done rather than what things are achieved. The call among opponents to the IRs has been for the government to address issues of possible social problems and the measures adopted.

Another subset of the opponents comes from a religious context and they espouse a ‘virtue ethics’ perspective. The major religions in Singapore are Islamism, Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism. Vocal opponents of the IR proposal have come mainly from among Muslims and Christians opposed to the immoral principle of allowing vice on what is viewed as a grand scale.

The proponents adopt a more utilitarian approach instead. Utilitarianism is an ethical dogma that holds that the right action is the one that produces the most utility for the whole of society (in our context), i.e. the ends justify the means, so long as most of the people benefit from it. As for what measure to adopt in the case of measuring the utility, the proponents of the proposal point to the obvious economic benefits, and look upon the social costs as somewhat minuscule in comparison to the huge benefits to society that the IRs will bring.

For the case of the IR proposal, the utilitarian argument won out in the end: the IR proposal makes good economic sense. As for the social costs associated with gambling and the presence of a casino, the measures seem to be substantial enough. On a more reassuring note, the government has promised that it will continually monitor and improve any social programs aimed at curbing problems stemming from the IRs.

Personally, in considering the various perspectives adopted in the Great Casino Debate, my research has drawn mainly on publicly available information, particularly from governmental sources. I am not personally an advocate of the actions of the PAP government, but with regards to the IR debate, I have found the speeches and statements made by various government ministers and MPs to contain concrete well thought out arguments for their case. From a civic perspective, I have also drawn upon information from other sources such as local news sites and other grassroots political commentary sites which are not regulated by governmental agencies.

Finally, to reiterate, I am of the view that the IRs, or the casino component of the IRs, will bring significant economic benefits to Singapore. The social costs as a consequence of the IRs will probably not be significant enough to overwhelm the benefits achieved, though this is something that can only be known in the future. As of now, the preventive measures put in place to curb the erosion of societal values, crime and problem gambling seem to me to be substantial and are ethically the right thing to do: in a sense, these actions are the social responsibility of the government given the economic action (the IRs) they have undertaken.

From my own moral standpoint, I do not think that gambling is immoral. I believe that gambling has the ability to ruin lives, but I believe in the right of the individual to exercise the freedom of using his financial resources as he pleased (provided it does no harm to others – here I adopt the deontological view). Researching the Great Singapore Debate has shaped my perspectives on gambling, the IRs, the ills, and the leadership exhibited by the Singaporean government.

Notes (Ed: Originally appearing as footnotes to the essay - I didn't have the time to figure out how to do it in Blogger):

‘Whale’ is a gaming industry parlance for serious gamblers who are heavily funded and high-rollers, with the ability to stake millions in gambling transactions.
The Cabinet is composed of elected Members of Parliament (MPs) who are chosen by the Prime Minister to be Ministers. The Cabinet is responsible for all Government policies and the day-to-day administration of the affairs of the state. It is collectively responsible to the Parliament. Source
Total Expenditure of Visitors (TEV) is one of the key performance indicators of Singapore's Tourism Sector. TEV measures the total revenue received by Singapore from tourism activity. It includes all payments and prepayments for goods and services made by visitors, as well as high yield shopping expenditure.
Chia Teck Leng's paper also mentions his experiences, and details expounding why the ‘house’ always wins.
In May 2006 Las Vegas Sands won the bid to operate the IR on the Marina Bay site. Recently, in Dec 2006 Genting Resorts won the bid to operate the second IR on the Sentosa site.

Articles referenced (I've lost my bookmarks for these pages, so no links here):

Alex Au, ‘Casino Decision: A Bigger Question Looms’, The Straits Times, 12 Nov 2004
Seah Chiang Nee, ‘Tragedy and the Casino Debate’, Little Speck
James Gomez, Workers’ Party Policy Statement on the PAP Government’s Casino Proposal

Parliamentary speeches referenced (I've lost my bookmarks for these pages, so no links here):

Speech by Dr Vivian Balakrishnan, Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports, on 21 Apr 2005 at Parliament House
Speech by Prof S Jayakumar, Minister for Home Affairs, on 18 Apr 2005 at Parliament House
Speech by Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, on 21 Apr 2005 at Parliament House
Speech by Mr Khaw Boon Wan, Minister for Health, 19 Apr 2005 at Parliament House

Back with a Vengeance...

2006-12-28T15:19:00.000+08:00

A whimper of a vengeance - there's nothing to be vengeful about, and there's certainly nothing to cause a ruckus about either.

But I'm back nonetheless. I'm sorry (to all 10 of my loyal readers) - after I went to Goa on my grad trip, I just felt a lot of inertia and was not too eager to start sharing thoughts (though I had many). I blame Goa: white sandy beaches and amazing food meant that sloshing myself with food and alcohol at the beach proved more fun than tapping away writing meaningful stuff. I'm kinda regretting it: there's a ton of material during the last two weeks that might not get blogged about as a result (time waits for no man).

So how about a short update on what I've been up to? Then perhaps I can launch into something less mundane and more thoughtful...

1. I think I left my friends dangling with that last post: what was it about??? Well, I wrote this essay for my Ethics professor and decided that I wanted to post it here also. Although it is an academic discourse, I do think it is a pity that only an audience of ONE professor, a certain de Bettignies, is going to read that paper.

2. After that dangling post, I went for my grad trip to Goa - it took almost a week and I came back early morning last Wednesday, for the purpose of... (more on Goa in a separate post, with pics)

3. GRADUATION! I'm now a newly minted MBA. The class of December 2006 graduated last Wednesday (in Singapore) and Thursday (in Fontainebleau) and we never felt happier, nor sadder. In my opinion, the goodbyes started long ago: at the end of P4. However, I think the most poignant farewells were at the graduation ceremony and the subsequent...

4. Graduation party at MOS. Drank, danced, hugged friends and shook hands all night. I can't believe that INSEAD is at an end.

5. Over the last few days, I've been catching up with friends and clubbing rather more often than I wanted to (sloshed with alcohol some nights). Also, I'm having too many late nights, either up with friends chatting or partying. It's a little too much to take: I need to go back to what is probably a lot more important...

6. Which is my job search. Ack - I'm still looking for a job but half the world is busy with their holidays. I guess it will have to be in Jan 2007 when I start in my honest earnest quest for a job (and a paycheck).

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In other news, since I've had a little too much free time, I've updated the look and feel of the blog. Actually, it looks pretty much the same, but the advent of Blogger's new functionalities meant that I can now tag (Blogger calls it 'label') my posts.

For a long time now, I've toyed with the idea of tagging my posts using Technorati's tag feature. It isn't too difficult, but the hassle of tagging old posts as well just turned me off the prospect of playing around with too much HTML (I wanted to avoid that - I may be techy at times, but I'm lazy too).

Then when Blogger introduced Beta, I thought it was a godsend, but they didn't allow bloggers who also do group blogs (alas) to use Beta. Without wanting to relinquish my membership in that particular group blog (guys there hardly blog now), it was only recently when Beta became a full version that I started tagging posts.

So, while happily tagging away, I realised that finding the right tags to use increasingly becomes a problem:

1. First of all, you want your tags to express exactly what you mean in your post. Therefore, you come up with very descriptive tags that encapsulate in one or two words what you're trying to say. Simple tags like 'Photography' will include photos, and 'Travel' will be about your trips.

2. Then, when it comes to posts which consist of more topics, you try using two or more tags to express the idea behind the post.

3. But the problem comes when you started to realise that you're having too many tags (the problem I'm facing now). You need to be economical about your tags: after all, there are some tags that reference only ONE post, and what good is a tag if it only references ONE article? It's like, if each and every article is referenced with its own tag, the tagging system makes no sense.

4. So you start being economical about your tags... and that's another problem because you then start force-fitting your posts into your tags. That's not what blogging is about: you're supposed to write what you feel, and THEN decide what your tags should be.

Yuck. I hate tagging, but I'm doing it nonetheless. Tagging is an afterthought: you write a beautiful novel, with all thoughts and ideas expressed as per your plan, but you've conveniently left out the title of the book and now wrack your brains thinking about a suitable title, something that concisely encapsulates the main thrust of the novel, a short phrase that tells the reader all he needs to know about whether he should be reading the book or not.

So, with those thoughts in my head, I took on the onus of tagging all my old posts (to aid you loyal readers! All 10 of you!). I could only do 50 without collapsing from tag piling - I keep introducing new tags and failed to be economical about them. Sighs - there're guys who're able to be really efficient with tags, but I don't belong to that club.

Anyhow, the tags are there to help YOU. Yes, YOU the reader. I hope you find the reading experience enhanced as a result!

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PS: Will be posting pictures from my Goa trip (not many, but I think they're nice) and the said Ethics essay in due time. I just want this catch-up post to sit around for a day or two before proceeding with more catching up!

Framing the Great Casino Debate as an Ethical Issue - Prelude

2006-12-12T17:39:00.000+08:00

It was 10pm Sunday night and I was at a friend's place in Dover Road. An ethics paper is due on 5pm Monday afternoon, and I don't want to spend Monday night working on it. Given the time constraints (and other factors), it meant I had only about 18 hours to work on a paper I have yet to start writing.

I had thought about the paper though, and spent about an hour on Friday bookmarking certain sites I wanted to revisit to bone up my knowledge of the topic. But the fact is, it was 10pm, Sunday night, and I had to deliver a paper in 18 hours.

I didn't sleep until 6am Monday morning, and was in school by noon. All I did during my waking hours between that time and 5pm was spent writing the damn ethics paper. And the topic? I thought it was topical to revisit the hotly debated IR issue from a year ago, given the recent award of the Sentosa site to Genting. Nope, I'm not talking about the ethical dimensions of the current award, but about the great debacle from about a year ago.

Given the time constraint I thought it was a decent effort - so I'm going to put it up in my next blog post. Provided I remember to do it. Before I leave. For Goa.

I must be high on the cappuccino... 8)

Wrapping Things Up

2006-12-08T14:15:00.000+08:00

This is going to be largely about me: I'm getting so ego-centric these days...

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The year at INSEAD is almost over: for most, today heralded the last day of school. The Strategic Pricing prof was nice: he provided champagne, toasted to the success of each and every one of us, and bid us a good life ahead.

It has been a bittersweet year for me. I started the year a rather ebullient personality, enjoying every moment of it, but I ended up alienating a certain section of my network in the process. I'm ending the year on a somewhat depressed note: I'm sad to leave, I'm also happy to go to the next phase of life at the same time.

A friend said that I haven't been very social all period (P5) and it's true. I've shied away from contact with most INSEADers, sticking to the ones I know better and just hanging around with people closer in ethnic terms (the Asians, largely). On the whole, it was perhaps a strategy of withdrawal: to slowly distance myself from INSEAD and the wonderful time it has been. Ironically, because it has been the experience of my life for the last 5 years (or so), I wanted it to end as soon as possible. Because, in my most twisted opinion, it is artificial.

This year is not like life as I know it to be. This year has not been progressive in terms of achieving my life goals (I did get my MBA, but I believe I regressed when it came to being a better human being). That, for me at least, is why I will always regard this blip (of a year) as something of an anomaly in my existence. It was fun, it was great, and the experience was wonderful. But it isn't my life: and that's what I so desperately want to get back to.

Someone said that my reaction seems somewhat escapist in nature, it's like a retreat from all the fun and enjoyment everyone else has been having. An utterance that is not entirely untrue, but also 'reflective' in a way. I'm not escaping: INSEAD itself has been the escape for me.

In the grander scheme of living, I didn't really need this MBA at all, nor the one year away. I just wanted to escape from mundanity, conformity, perceived lower sense of self-worth and a non-too-exciting career. I could have plodded on and not 'seen the world' (albeit through rather biased eyes), but I chose to live this one year of wretched debauchery - oh I exaggerate, it is a fun year, with everyone placing emphasis on different aspects of it.

I chose this year at INSEAD to escape, but I found myself wanting to go back now. My colleagues will probably think that this is a regression, a retreat - something quite like a tortoise who stuck his head out and wished he'd never left the comfort of his shell.

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The cabaret was last night and I wished I'd gone for it. The cabaret is an INSEAD tradition brought over from the Fonty campus that is meant to showcase student talents. One can perform, dance, sing or just croak on stage in front of fellow INSEADers. Can't say much else though because I wasn't there: from what I heard about it, the performances were funny, superb, and there was a lot of fun all round.

Another INSEAD 'tradition' is also taking place: The End Game. This one is somewhat more interesting, but again, I'm a non-participant (not by choice alas!). The End Game came about because of a gender disparity in INSEAD. Primarily, the problem with B-schools is that there are more males than females enrolled: in INSEAD, the males outnumber females 3 to 1.

Thus, when it came to the general dating pool, the INSEAD female is faced with 'choice', and the INSEAD male is faced with little choice and too much competition. And if you've read my take on the game theory aspects of the dating scene here, you quickly realise that with competition being stiff, girls find it hard to fend off the die-hards they don't fancy, and find it difficult to approach the ones they do.

Hence, the premise for the End Game - the game to end all games (yuck, I hated how that sounds). The End Game is a party to which only 'certain' guys get invited to go. The invitation can only come from one girl i.e. one girl gets to invite one guy (whom they fancy / had the hots for / lusted after), and everyone gets an equal chance to hook up. No competition, no guys blocking each other out, and more attention given.

The rules (for the gals): 1) you cannot invite your boyfriend; 2) If a guy is already invited by another girl, the girl has to choose another guy to go (the 2nd choice, or 3rd or whatever); 3) you're supposed to keep it a secret, i.e. not to reveal it to the invitee nor other invitors.

It all sounds fun until you think about the poor guys who don't get to go. So, in the spirit of all things to do with parties at INSEAD, there is another element added on top of it: guys have to campaign for that 'coveted' invitation to the End Game. Wow... and I thought there was no competition. :)

I think decisions have been made and invitations sent out: Have fun all End Gamers! And if you've ever lusted after someone, tell them.

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The end is nigh and I've got another location update to... well, update on. I'm going on a grad trip to Goa next week onwards, and then will return just in time for the graduation ceremony. If I don't blog in the meantime, it is because I didn't drag my laptop along, or I was just having too much fun to drag myself in front of a PC to hammer away on a keyboard.

Also, since I started using StatCounter on this blog, I've noticed certain discernible patterns among my readership: applying what I've learnt from Marketing classes, there are 3 main segments among the readers of this blog:

1) The Friend / Relative / ex-Colleague / fellow INSEADer who I've told about this blog;

2) The click-througher from another (more popular) blog that links here (Thanks to whoever links me!);

3) The ones searching for 'Markstrat Tricks' - seriously, I have so MANY of these guys that I'm seriously considering posting up a solid article that actually espouses the tricks behind Markstrat (there is ONE and only ONE trick I know: when it's time to kill babies, you have to KILL babies).

There: my segments. :) Which are you?

Drafted and Shafted

2006-12-03T23:38:00.000+08:00

There were things which I wrote halfway and abandoned some time ago for one reason or another. Sometimes, I'm just not motivated enough to continue something I started (a familiar refrain alas). At other times, I don't structure my thoughts coherently enough to deliver something worth reading. I also sometimes fear that what I was writing might affect some friendships in certain adverse ways.

Here's one of those posts I started writing and never finished. It's been in the blogger draft folder since October:

The Night of a Thousand Fucks (Only the Verbal Kind though)

It was not a night to remember. I recalled sitting on a bench, and the next memory was 8 hours later waking up in a housemate's bed without any idea how I got there.

Well, it wasn't just about me not remembering - I was a big nuisance and I sure did not leave any fond memories for the folks I troubled that night.

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Piecing together the events of that night took a while - my fellow South-East Asian saw most of the action, and the blow-by-blow account blew me away. (he took some literal blows as well, poor sod)

First off, I was already drunk by the time he found me.

And then, he fed me more of the vile stuff.

The vile stuff makes one feel vile. But prior to feeling vile, I became the quintessential angry drunk, and that's when the litany of 'fucks' started.

I see someone familiar, and the first issuance from my mouth was 'F*** you'. A friend started keeping count, and from the time I started the f-ing rant till I dropped dead on the living room floor, it was a ceaseless F-fest.

Yup. Certifiably an angry drunk.

Oh yes, there was the hurling bit as well, and that's when it did not become that fun for my fellow South-East Asian friend. (It is always fun up to the point people get sick) Hurled on his jacket, his car, his shirt. Even violently tore up the hurl bag wrapped around my mouth. Punched and abused him as well.

The amount of verbal and physical abuse they had to endure. Ouch...

So there was sick in his car, and on our clothes. The guys dragged me home, pulled some sheets over the small living room area, and left me curled up on the floor.

I don't know how I ended up in my housemate's bed - and telling him had been the worst thing I had to do today.

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Yes I was drunk sometime in October. And drunk in only the kind of way one should be drunk: irresponsibly unconsciously dead drunk.

Another one I tried to write a few days ago didn't get anywhere beyond two points:

Question and Answer / Echo and Bounce

1. Why is it that conversations necessarily follow the Q&A format? I ask you a question, you say something in response, and we both think we are having a conversation. It seems otherwise impossible to elicit information from anyone else: it's all about getting a response.

2. A 'Plop' is an utterance that is greeted with silence. Actually, it is more like an unacknowledged comment. It is a painful thing being a plopper: you never know if it is because what you just said is the single most stupid comment in a conversation.

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Like the above painfully lousy drafts that never got published, some things are really better left unsaid. In the 'Better Left Unsaid' (BLU) bin, I've shafted a whole bunch of ideas which will probably never see the light of day.

For instance, I'd always wanted to write a travel blog that would go by the ostentatious name of 'Heart of Asia' (oddly enough, inspired by a particular techno chinois song). Unfortunately for me, I never did travel all that much - not during the time when I was earning a regular salary, and not even now when I'm a student. Not in Asia at least.

Then, there was the other idea about writing political trish-trash, something ala sammyboy forum clap-trap (like there isn't enough coffee shop political commentary already). I feared being flamed and ridiculed for what I think would most likely be naive commentary: better leave it for people without the common sense to shut up then.

The BLU bin is also filled with the (true) thoughts I have of the friends around me, and they are seldom very flattering. I generally don't see people optimistically: this means that I usually have the view that people around me possess more negative traits than positive ones. For instance, a friend of mine who is effusive and good natured to most other people; in my mind, he will be typified as being irritating, obsessed with unnecessary information, and choose inappropriate topics for conversations (think of that annoying kid who talks about the extent of his knowledge of various species of cockroaches while his parents are gagging over dinner).

I just can't see the positives in most people. What I really think about them thus are better left unsaid.

Like I said before, I'm too risk-averse.

Closer

2006-11-24T22:27:00.000+08:00

"If you believe in love at first sight, you'll never stop looking"

Are we close friends? As with all vague notions, there is no metric with which I can measure the distance between us. I can't say that we're close friends because of reasons A, B, C... and so on. I certainly can't claim we're close friends because we see each other more often than others within our circle (well, outside my circle, there are friends who're indeed closer).

Can I build criteria? I think I've tried:

1. How often do we see each other a week?
2. What is the amount of time we spent exclusively in each other's company?
3. When we need to confide / talk, how often do we think of calling each other?
4. Are we... just friends? Or is there some other underlying attraction?
5. If so, is this what close friends do, or is this because other emotions are at play?
6. Have we fought?
7. How did we make up after that?
8. Do you love me? Does that still make us close friends, or something worse?

Vague notions and vague answers at best - when something as tenuous as a friendship needs to be defined along quantitative measures, what does one make of it?

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I have a friend - close enough, but not close enough to touch rub my emotions raw - who is very good at one thing: she is good at asking questions. She asks questions relentlessly, and her style of presentation is to shoot questions at her audience, make them ponder, and rattle off more questions in quick succession. The questions always demand an answer, and the way that it is asked, the answers are proffered in no small measure. The questions are always good, but the answers to them always seem to invite her to probe more, like a hungry unsatiated hippo (eating up those balls... hehe... pardon the slight digression into the 80s).

But although she asks questions well, she doesn't seem to give answers. It is a one-sided relationship: she asks the questions, you give the answers. And there's no point in asking questions of her because she doesn't have answers. Or it might be that the answers she's collected, she's keeping them for herself, unwilling or unable to share them. Perhaps she cannot distill the answers she hoards into something that someone else can understand. So the questions always come flying, but the answers don't. And in such a relationship, the answerer always feel drained, like he's being sucked dry of knowledge without any replenishment in return.

"Ask and it shall be given unto you" but can one ask incessantly? Very unchristianly behaviour to be expecting reciprocity on this account, but one can't help feeling like he isn't getting a fair bargain.

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"If you believe in love at first sight... take a closer look"

You must be wondering, do I have a point to all this? Like with all good things, I'm getting to my point - in my fashion.

I think that, with regards to how close a friendship really is, one can only ask vague questions of oneself and invite unwillingly qualitative answers. As with my inquisitive friend, the questions one can ask only invite further questions, until such a point when no answers can be elicited.

A close friendship cannot be one without some measure of attraction (my opinion). At some base level, one has to be attracted to the other - with same-sex friends, it doesn't necessarily mean you're gay. The attraction has to be of a kind where one finds a quality in the other that one desires, whether it be that the other is beautiful, or smart, or in possession of some such attribute.

The thing is, the level of attraction cannot exceed a certain (vague) point - beyond that (vague) point, it tilts towards something more akin to attraction and liking, where one party comes to desire the other. When Desire plays the matchmaker, that friendship isn't close anymore: it is means to an end, that end being one of desire, and at its most debased, lust.

A close friendship does not need frequent contact, nor does it need two people to spend any significant amount of time with each other (again, my opinion). In fact, when two people spend too much time with each other, it's more likely they will end up detesting the other, finding each other's bad habits beyond reproach and letting familiarity breed contempt.

Time apart from each other allows room in which one can grow, and change in ways that only a close friend can appreciate. Being in frequent contact means the subtle changes go unnoticed, and that is always a loss to the unobservant one.

Finally, getting closer doesn't mean one should not fall in love with the other: it just means that such emotions need to be embraced and expressed - with much grace and some acceptance of the fact that the friendship might not be the same thereafter. Never, ever, bottle up your emotions - when one does, the time will come when emotions burst forth in a torrent and there will be no way to pretend one never felt them.

And when it comes to that point, can one remain close?

George Michael sings it thus, and it speaks for me: 'I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.'

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"Those who love at first sight are traitors at every glance"

Notes:
1. Quotes in italics were taken from taglines for the movie Closer (2004).
2. Hungry Hungry Hippos is one of those meaningless games from the 80s. You take the lever of one of 4 hippos and manoeuvre it to 'eat' as many balls as possible. The player with the most balls eaten wins.

3. The George Michael song? That line's taken from the song 'Last Christmas' by Wham!

Me 11/2006

2006-11-16T18:55:00.000+08:00

I reckon this has to be the easiest thing to blog about. What is harder than talking about yourself?

If you've ever attended a toastmasters' meeting, this will be the first thing that you have to do. Talk about yourself for 3 minutes (I think... I can't really remember now). Back in NUS 1997, I attended one session with the toastmasters there, had a panic attack and never returned. I wished I'd stayed: perhaps I could have gone on to become a better public speaker. It must have been the law students scaring me away with their vocabulary.

Anyhow, if you want to compare the me now and the me in 2005, I really can't see much in my psyche that has changed: I think I am still me essentially.

But... let's start anyhow.

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The Me in November has been a student for 11 months. I am currently an INSEAD participant (they don't like to call us students, the adminstration). Unfortunately, this status isn't lasting for much longer, probably warranting another update soon in 2007. See, I'm going to be graduating soon - next month - and then I can truly call myself an alumni and MBA.

Being an MBA hasn't done me much good financially: I've gone into debt and my finances are strained beyond what they can bear. The MBA also hasn't given me any better an idea what I want to become: the kiddy dreams of becoming the CEO of some MNC remains that - a kiddy dream.

But hey, I can still dream, and dream big.

:
:

Come to think of it, the MBA gave me the dreams in the first place. And the MBA taught me many things which I would never have learnt in a less formal context: there just isn't the kind of room to learn the things you learn in an MBA while on the job. So a one year break to learn, to recharge, to rethink, and to find myself: priceless.

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The Me in November is also in a rut relationship-wise. There is nobody. Zilch. Not any romance in sight. Having concluded a relationship during summer, the me now just cannot muster enough resources to mount another 'offensive', i.e. search for a new girlfriend. Partly because life is still in a state of flux, and partly because I'm just not motivated enough to. Another reason was also because any romantic interests I harbour didn't get past the 'reality-check' stage.

That stage goes like this: OK, now I know I like this girl. What next? Shall I tell her? No, not yet. Only when I am sure we can have something that will last - like your last one, you don't want to make the same mistake right? Ok, but it won't last, and you know it won't. Am I sure? I don't know. But what if she doesn't like you back? Hell, then I can't tell her can I? Don't want to risk getting all hurt and such. Ok, hold back on those emotions and just be all rational: it won't last, she won't like you, and what's the whole point of it all?

Right. So the reality check was a huge jumbly mass of thoughts that did not materialise into concrete action. The fact was that I did do something about it in the end, but I did the minimal. All that thought of 'risk' just screws one up.

Oh, where was I? Yes, I'm in a relationship-rut, but then, that kind of suits my mood nowadays. It lets me simmer in dismay and brew in mild discontent at the (perceived) unfortunate circumstance. It allows me the room to play out fantasies, and not risk getting disappointed with real-life. It lets me withdraw into my own space, like a turtle in his shell, away from disappointment and hurt - why go through all that shit again, right?

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The Me in November has one grandparent less than the Me in 2005. On my dad's side of the family, this meant that there were no more old people... The mantle of old people has passed from my grandparents to... gasp... my parents.

My dad hit 60 in October, sometime after the death of my grandmother. I now think a lot more about getting old and living out the twilight years. I think more about how I want to live when I get there. The more I think about such nonsense as the future, the more I worry that my father never lived the dreams he had when he was a 30-year-old lad.

My father certainly didn't foresee himself failing in business at that age. I don't think he saw himself as getting too old either. I don't know if he ever was disappointed: with his career, his life, his children, his marriage. I don't know if he ever felt elated with the age he has lived up to. He always found solace in religion, and it has been that way since he was a teenager.

I admire that about my father: the ability to have that much faith. Perhaps I ask too much of my faith. Perhaps I ask too much of God and what he should or should not have done to this world (and me in the process, but I feel so small).

Nevertheless, my father is still the person I look up to. (I've got to speak for my mum too... but that's another long story for another time).

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The Me in November just realised how jaded I have become. Reading the post of me back in June 2005, I seemed more carefree, more at ease with myself in the world. Now, I think I am more uptight and frustrated. More bogged down by the mundane and meaninglessness of existence. More questioning of my self worth and what my station in this world is.

The Me in November can't look beyond November and regain the optimism that the Me in 2005 had. There was more hope then, and more clarity on my purpose in life. What I have now is a little less desire, a little less hunger for success. Hitting 30 must do this to you, I posit. Hitting 30 must give you that sense of dread that life just isn't the same anymore, and downhill is the only way to go.

Crap.

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The Me in November wants to walk out of December 2006 into a new year with his head held high and his future straightened out. Granted that I am not the most happy person to be with now, I do hope to be happy, and I do seek happiness.

That's why I don't like the risks that I have to take sometimes, but that's part and parcel of life.

Living it a day at a time...

The Me in November apologises for the utter lack of references to persons other than himself. This is an ego-piece and, although it does not live up to its promise of describing Me in November, it does serve its purpose of acting as an outlet for venting some frustration. Me in November is a frustrated, sex-deprived, uptight, unhappy, and screwed-up son of a bitch and he admits it readily. It's a wonder that he still has any friends, and they're absolutely gourmet when it comes to being friends. Top notch. He also wants to say that he loves you all.

All Saints Home, Block 1, Room 2, Niche 194

2006-11-13T20:07:00.000+08:00

... is the final resting place for my grandmother.

(until the lease runs out at the place sometime within the next 30 years and pending whatever actions the authorities might take)

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I have never had a close experience with death before. The passing of my grandmother last month brought it home to me, but even then, I was a few thousand miles away when it happened.

There was already a foreboding that it would happen sometime soon - before I left for France at the end of August, I made sure I saw her again at my uncle's place. She was weak and not able to say much to me. I don't even know if she recognised me. And like the numerous occasions on which I had visited her, I said my greetings and my few words of tepid encouragement, then proceeded to chat with my uncle and aunt from whom I could understand her condition better. After a while, grandma got tired, and the maid wheeled her back to her room to get some sleep.

Sleep. She was always sleeping.

That was the last time I saw her alive. That was the last time I saw her in any physical form (I see her in my sleep sometimes - a younger, more sprightly person - the grandmother who brought me shopping for toys as a little boy). That was the last time I said goodbye, and I did not even say it to her because she had gone to her room to rest.

Then I went to France and about 3 weeks into the French immersion at Fontainebleau, dad hit me with the news that my grandmother's condition has gone bad. She was hospitalised, gone into the ICU, and doctors gave the prognosis that she has less than a month to live.

I remember being stunned speechless and unable to respond, the voice wavering and about to break. I forced back tears while talking to dad, and my housemate driving the car seemed to sense something wrong in my demeanour: I was always acting so tough in front of her. I made sure from that point on to always call my dad - every couple of days or so. He was my only link left to grandma. And he was her favourite son: he will feel the loss THE most.

A couple of weeks later, the bad news hit and she passed away. I remember vividly that night. There was a party at some chateau, one of those themed events in INSEAD, and I didn't feel up to going. I came home from a dinner with a friend, and promptly logged onto the internet, doing the usual job application and surfing around that characterised the period of September and October 2006. Then the sms came and I sighed a sigh of relief and anguish: she has died.

Last saturday and it was time to go see her, yet it felt like there is no point anymore. She has died, with a plaque and fake flowers to mark her final resting place, filed away among other remains like in a library. Little was I to know that, when you visit the dead, it is not just about the one dead person you're going to see. It is about much more and I am glad I went.

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So what of visiting the dead?

I learnt about memories we keep as human beings, memories we retain of people we have lost. A lot of emotions get invested in our friends and family when we live, and when one passes, the loss is felt so tangibly by the people around one.

Many people try to retain that memory, and I saw it so much at All Saints Home (in Punggol). Even while this is a place housing urns of ashes, people still managed to build up shrines in memory of their loved ones. Fake flowers adorn every niche; some leave post-it notes behind, cut in the shape of hearts; soft toys for those who died young; little adornments with much love behind them; pictures; tributes - some left behind obituaries pasted up beside the niches. Physical manifestations of their love for the departed, hope perhaps that the dead might see, that the dead might hear their prayers.

There were other things that were visible among the dead: birth dates... and death dates. What is it about the human compulsion to note the two dates, however meaningless to the rest of the world, that bookend our existences?

But I saw patterns... me? I always see the sad ones.

A girl who lived a mere 9 years. The picture showed a young lively person in her school uniform.

A boy, aged 18 when he passed away. The items decorating the niche indicated a girlfriend in his life, and parents who miss him a lot. Him in his army No. 1 uniform. I can't help but think it is an accident while he was serving NS.

A family of 4 occupying an entire bottom row of a column. All died on the same day. Perhaps a suicide pact? Car accident while on holiday? Did the father face financial troubles and decided to end it all? Did it make the news? (a cousin who was with me couldn't help muttering something about it being in the news...)

An old woman, her niche unadorned with fake flowers (the caretakers do not clear away items from the niches and thus discourage real flowers). The plaque is yellow with age and lists simply her birth, death, and the typical "Gone home to be with her Lord". No one has visited it.

Physical retentions... and the pain is very real. But when I depart, what do I want to leave behind?

Pics on my Phone - Set 1

2006-11-09T10:39:00.000+08:00

There are a bunch of pictures on my phone that I seldom look at or even bother with. Some were taken using my phone (an old battered Nokia 6260), while some were sent by others. All are, alas, low-res pics that will only have some esoteric value to me. In no particular order, here's a set of 5 of them:

I took this picture illegally. Camera phones aren't allowed in camp, but I snuck mine in nonetheless. This is a pic from the top of a watchtower, looking down the chute and ladder from which you climb to access it. It was night, there was nothing to do, and my poor myopic eyes couldn't make out stuff moving in the dark anyway - in other words, I was so bored that I resorted to taking pics of the surroundings (and got this).

This one is from INSEAD, specifically during a time in June when I was on the Fontainebleau campus. My assigned exam number was 44 which, to the Chinese, is about as unlucky a number as you can get. The exam numbers determine where you sit in the amphitheatres during the exams. As you can see, I have a good view of my fellow MBA's exam paper from where I sit (didn't cheat though... no time to).

This is a metro station in Barcelona. In most parts of Europe, their metros (from my perspective) are little more than 'holes-in-the-ground'. There's a hole, you climb down, and - voila! - trains. I like the train stations in Singapore better: at least they can be considered to be buildings, or have the semblance of a station - they're also far easier to locate and find (you tend to miss holes-in-the-ground).

My ex-colleague and his opinion on me using my phone to take his picture. Not the most flattering shot I'm afraid, and if he ever finds out about this blog, he'll be screaming for that pic to be taken down (I doubt he'll sue - he does have a good sense of humour about such things).

A pretty girl, coffee, and a picture taken without my notice. Never leave your phone behind while you go to the washroom: some beautiful lady might decide to leave her pictures on it. (of course it helps if you were dating her...)

Where have you been?

2006-11-07T14:41:00.000+08:00

Right here - I'm still thinking stuff and thinking about writing stuff. I still have an insatiable urge to write stuff down and to voice my opinions to the world.

The problem is that I am unable to structure it properly very well these days. It is kind of like my consulting interviews: I show up and they ask me (another) one of those case interview questions where they don't care about the answer, just how well you 'structure' the discussion. So you hatch up some stupid framework and then methodically step through it even though both you, and the interviewer, probably already has some idea where to go.

But that's beside the point: the point is, I can't structure my thoughts well nowadays (explains the dings?).

A commitment is one nonetheless, and having started this blog, I'm not about to kill it due to a lack of commitment. So here is my commitment to you (my loyal readers! All... oh let's say 10 of you!). I am going to write posts on:

1. The familiar theme of the succubus - I think I have succumbed to the charms of one of late and have lost my soul (and countless energy) to one such vampire. I want this post to be a metaphorical allegory (to my own situation wherever applicable), and I want to discuss succubi and the havoc they wreak. Unfortunately though, I've yet to think about the sub-themes I want to explore, and the whole idea (of succubi) is plagiarised from an introductory lit text that I read a long time ago.

2. A useful strategy dictionary - there are so many useful buzzwords taught in the strategy courses at INSEAD that I was thinking about collecting them into a useful compendium for current INSEAD P2s - any who happen to read my site anyhow (I never did). Just the other day, I was in this strat class and one comment I made literally used 8 strategy buzzwords in one sentence: "A first-mover advantage is only useful if a company has achieved critical mass among its installed base, such that it is able to influence the willingness-to-pay of the consumer, deliver a viable value proposition that cannot be eroded through...". You get my drift.

3. P5 Life in INSEAD - which... as it is... there really isn't much to talk about. School is like an afterthought now: the primary drivers are jobs, travel and recreation while studying is that nuisance which happens during certain odd hours of the day. Sad times indeed, P5.

4. An update on myself - Back in June 2005, I wrote a short piece about myself. The intention was to keep it an ongoing project of sorts, to see where my life has led me by doing a similar piece every so often (it was supposed to be every 3 months I think, but the slacker that I am...). It is probably a time for an update: so many things have changed in my life, so many things haven't. I still don't think I can write a decent post about myself without talking about the people around me, but there has been a general trend to be more egoistic of late (I blame the MBA) and I am finding myself to use the first person pronouns - 'I' and 'Me' - a little too often. Discomforting thought...

5. Thinking and Acting - a class I took today showed a video clip of our ex-dean Hawawini talking about the 3rd INSEAD campus in the United States (which was an initiative that he had a lot of passion for, but it won't happen... not for a while). I thought something he said made some sense and its definitely something worth sharing in a little post when I can bear to structure it.

So there, 5 things I promise; 5 things I shall deliver.

Soon.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles; A new Period

2006-10-28T10:12:00.000+08:00

A combination of a few things put me out of blogging action for a while:

1. I've gotten lazy.

2. I was catching up on anime I haven't seen. Anime freaks out there should go catch Kanon and Death Note (the anime, not the movie, though I've heard good things about the movie too).

3. I started re-playing this very long-winded turn-based time-consuming ego-feeding empire-building game which took too much time (because I had too much of it currently). It distracted me from one true purpose of having this laptop (which is to blog with)

4. I was on holiday... with my ex... it was really fun hanging out with someone you know well, but you may never know people well enough (I've come to realise that people can change - someone you think you know now won't be the same person you know later). That makes life interesting, but I'm not looking for interesting experiences nowadays. I just want a life. Period. (punctuation notwithstanding)

5. I was suffering from a writer's block of sorts - there were things I wanted to blog about, but I couldn't put them into words.

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

There was an idea to talk about one oft-cited topic: Love. Or rather the reasons for love. I think that love is based on a primal urge to procreate, and as human beings, we are driven to find love because we want to have sex and to reproduce (from a biological point of view, of course). It just gets complicated that we develop feelings along the way: stupid things going by names such as jealousy, hatred, ecstasy - you know them well.

But then, I thought about the fact that too many people have expounded on this topic already, and what can I add to the people who actually read my blog? (I think my regular readers have reached a number that I can count with both my hands!).

So I shan't discuss love - I don't have it now, and I certainly am hungry for it, though I'm beginning to think it is a function of a biological urge.

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

There is this post that I wanted to do regarding Singapore Airlines though - I even took notes while the incident was playing out. I was flying out of Changi Airport (Singapore) to Bangkok on an SQ flight (my first in years) and a situation occurred which prevented me from boarding the plane for a long while.

It started with me queueing to check in at Terminal 2's Row 7 check in counter. The first irritating thing is that there is actually a very long queue: it was a rope-lashed snake with 4 bends, which meant one having to navigate an airport push trolley onto people's ankles at least 4 times. One snaky queue feeding something like 12 counters (or positions depending on whose choice of words you chose), of which some were available and some were intermittently closed. I soon found out why there were positions that had to be 'intermittently' closed.

There was actually a lady, not in the usual SIA counter staff garb (the one counter staff wear with the distinctive SQ kebaya pattern for a top and a schoolgirl skirt), standing at the head of the queue directing people to the various counters. She looked authoritative, and she even 'selected' people to skip ahead to the front of the queue, depending on how late they are for their flights. There seemed to be a bias - she seems to move Caucasians ahead of the pack more often than not, but I was probably just being too sensitive. Maybe these ang-mohs just have a thing for checking in late.

Anyhow, this was the situation 2 hours prior to my flight. And I finally got to the counter to check in. I presented my passport, the girl tapped away on the keyboard. I was kept there for something like 5 minutes before being told that a situation had arisen where I might not get a seat on the flight.

Time-out... Now, typically, I think the usual SIA customer will be outraged and suitably angry at this point. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CANNOT PUT ME ON THAT FLIGHT?" might be something I have uttered in utter desperation. With my Outraged Customer Hat on, I might have made a scene or a huge fuss out of the fact that I come 2 hours early to find myself not checked onto the flight. Not impossible yah?

But I am not a usual SIA customer: this is my first SIA flight since I was 10. So I put my
Operations Consultant Hat on instead and decided to find out why she said that.

The reason, oddly enough, actually made sense operationally. SIA is an airline that connects people via Changi airport between people flying out of Europe and Australia going to destinations in Asia (and vice versa, though it was the former case for this situation). A flight out of Sydney coming into Singapore was delayed, and a bunch of the passengers on this particular flight missed their connection in Singapore to other destinations in South-East Asia like Bangkok, Manila and Hanoi.

Knowing that these people are going to miss their scheduled connections, the system did the next best thing it could for them: it put them on the next available SQ flight out to these destinations. One of these next best flight happened to be SQ62 to Bangkok: my flight. All this probably happened even before I showed up at the airport. It made sense then and there to secure the next flight out for these folks, but obviously some things have not been well thought through.

For one thing, the flight was already overbooked - this is a typical airline practice: there is some complicated system to actually calculate yield rates and airlines know that they can overbook an aircraft because there will be cancellations. However, I was flying out on a Hari Raya-Deepavali holiday weekend, which probably screw things up a bit because complex booking algorithms can seldom account for irratic holiday weekend travel patterns.

So while pushing delayed passengers on subseqeunt connecting flights made sound business sense, the fact that the flight was OVERBOOKED, and that it was a HOLIDAY WEEKEND meant that there WILL be people actually boarding that flight in Singapore and one cannot discount that they WILL want to get on the flight.

But... Singapore Airlines, well-known for providing the BEST service to customers put their delayed customers on the next flight out nonetheless. So what was the effect of this happening?

You should have seen the scene at Changi Airport Terminal 2 Check in counter Row 7. Customers were told they needed to wait while the front counter staff scramble to get them seats. My bag was checked in: my bag could actually get on the flight while I had to wait for my turn. I sat on the seats next to the check in row, observing other passengers suffering the same fate. Irate ang-mohs are a sight to behold: this lady was frustrated, furious and screaming at one of the supervisors. Quite understandable: this is Singapore Airlines you're talking about, and what level of service is it that you cannot check in someone who's arrived two hours early?

In providing the best possible service for the folks boarding a delayed flight in Sydney, it has made it impossible for the folks boarding a confirmed flight in Singapore. Pretty well thought out for a world class airline, I must say.

Now, let me assume the Front Counter Staff Hat and see the real victim in all of this. I make no bones about the fact that the real victim isn't myself, the customer. The real victim is the Front Counter girl and mine is named Elline (I never found out her last name). It's a good thing I have had an opportunity to work behind a counter myself (A&E, NUH, something from my previous life as an IT consultant) and I understood what she was going through - I think I was the most reasonable customer for her all of that busy morning.

Often, the Front Counter Staff (FCS) have to handle things on two fronts, both of which are beyond her control in the first place. There is the irate customer on the one hand: the FCS has to deal with frustration, irritation and emotions which are generally beyond their level of comprehension. People hate to wait, and having reached the front of a queue, people hate to be told that they have waited for nothing. The FCS needs to be gentle, reassuring and understanding all at a time when they might be screamed at, shouted at and verbally abused. A crying FCS is a typical sight when things in the backroom get out of hand.

And this is where the FCS faces the biggest ordeal: things happen in the backroom which are beyond her control, and which she might have an inkling of an idea about. The FCS is tasked to provide the best possible service and her KPI is measured based on that - customer waiting time, turnaround time, service etc. But her KPI is affected by backroom events such as the one I have mentioned above.

So, the FCS can try to explain the situation to the irate customer, and at best hope that the customer will understand. It is a tough job with a frequently high turnover, but you do develop a thick hide after facing the worst of them. Elline, my SIA FCS of Row 7, was kind enough to explain the situation, checked in my bag, got me to wait patiently while she put up the sign that said 'Position Closed'. She then ran back and forth between some unknown backroom location and the front counter, all in the name of getting me on that flight.

Me? I was thinking a few things while making notes about the ordeal (I was too free, no book to read, no laptop to punch away on). Firstly, I should have just used SIA's Internet Check-in: much easier, no hassle, and my bag can be carried on. Alternatively, I should have gone in as baggage: bags can get on the flight, passengers cannot. It is SIA, I kept repeating to myself, and it has the best service. Yup, to the irate ang mohs it sure does, since their tempers are well on display. I can still picture this supervisor saying "Sorry... sorry" over and over again to customers who complained.

But I guess there are miracles. Half an hour before the plane was to fly, Elline got me onto the flight. But well, it was the last available seat on the plane - all the way at the back, no choice of aisle or window (I got aisle), near the area where the stewardesses prepare the food. I thanked her, asked her for her name - this is so that I can write this post with a name in mind. The FCS are not nameless assistants to your customer experience: they are also human beings.

I ran, boarded and enjoyed the rest of my trip to Bangkok. But I don't think SIA is that good anymore: Does it make sense that providing good service meant bumping up delayed passengers onto a connecting flight, at the expense of kicking off full-paying passengers who are booked on that flight? I'm tempted to assume my CEO of SIA Hat but I think not: its enough that I blogged about it - if they offer me a job, I think I might even try to help think through strategic imperatives to DEAL with it.

They need some serious re-thinking there... Singapore Airlines.

From one Desert to Another

2006-10-20T11:50:00.000+08:00

Where: Dubai Airport

What?: Yup. It is like the busiest airport in the Middle East and it shows. Haggard transits lounge around the coffee joint where I'm enjoying the free wifi and (finally) a real iced mocha blended that the French hiss their disapproval at.

Whatcha doing there?: I'm transitting. I hate airports and crowds.

Again?: Ok, I'm leaving France and on my way home. Sorry I didn't write about it.

You're forgiven. Now where are you going?: That's a no brainer. I'm going home to Singapore where my heart is.

Why?: Coz I'm finishing up INSEAD over there, and see more of my parents before I start on my next big adventure.

Which is?: a secret... Ok, I don't really know yet, but I hope it'll be in China. Shanghai specifically.

Good luck to you: Thanks.

Anything else to share?: Yup. I never said this out, but there was also the matter of a death in the family. My grandmother passed away like... 2 weeks back. I've not blogged about it because I think it kinds of give away my identity and stuff (there's another thing I want to blog about... but I'll keep that for later).

Sorry to hear that: I hear that a lot. Thanks anyhow.

Miss her?: Kinda. See, I also want to be home for my family because of that. Like, you never know when you'll see them again, right?

Ditto: Yup. Batt's running low. Next time!

R&R

2006-10-12T16:44:00.000+08:00

Short one. I resolved not to rant and rave in the new year. Ranting and Raving is the easier way to blog stuff, but with so many bloggers doing that on a daily basis, the verbal diarrhoea has to end sometime.

Of course, that is for the new year. Until then, I shall R&R until I can clear my system of the frustration within.

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

Just had a chat with the landlady, and like always, there's her screaming at me, and me screaming at her, and then us having a decent conversation about the state of the house, and her worries, and her latin blood, and her bloody problems with tenants like me, and the bank. Endless woes being a landlady: and I thought it was all about collecting the money and sitting in the sun with a pina colada (not much sun in Fall, so I guess that explains the gloomy mood).

Landladies are a breed all of their own. But I still maintain this: don't do business with her!

Out in Left Field: Jealousy and Envy

2006-10-12T06:57:00.000+08:00

I figured that a sufficiently oblique post title will wing it, but on re-reading the above, I don't think it'll make any sense to anyone at all besides myself.

Yes, I'm beside myself with envy and jealousy. These are feelings I hate to have, especially when they're also tinged with a little wrath and lust. The potent combination of all of the above leaves me feeling like shit, which, in some sense of the word, is what I am like right now: feeling a little too shitty.

I guess it started with the McDing (borrowed the phrase from a housemate). Kick ass consulting firm McKinsey has decided that its venerated institution cannot house a degenerate like me. Unfortunately, they also couldn't muster the proper interviewers either: my first interviewer looked more like he came from the set of Lord of the Rings where he played one of the orcs. The questions were fast and furious, and I kept getting interrupted. I suppose that's part of the stress interview bit about it, but I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot (two beady little eyes staring out at me isn't making me like him... and how is he expected to like me when I don't like him? Wrong vibes sent bothways kill any rapport that I was trying to build). The result: dinged.

So began my descent into shithood. It got worse when my landlady decided that she is an amnesiac, and now thinks that a conversation that we have had did not happen, and thereby thinks she is entitled to return my deposit to me when I leave. I explicitly stated to our dear Mrs G.U. that we had an agreement (she even sent me an email as confirmation) that she will pay me, in cash, on certain stated dates way before I leave, the full deposit amount. Mrs G.U. has conveniently decided that my email never happened, and her mode of dealing with problems is to pretend that emails I sent her were never received (especially if they were complaints or demands for deposits to be returned).

So... and here I do something that I shall look back as my one big vengeful act even if it probably wouldn't have much of an impact...

Future students of INSEAD coming to Fontainebleau: Avoid any dealings with the likes of ACM Meuble, the so-called company of our very dear Mrs G.U. (who I shan't name because I don't like to be sued, in France or anywhere else). She is inconsistent in her rent demands. She likes to create artificial charges for certain things and do not show you the bills for them. She thinks that rent can be raised and lowered as and when she feels like it. She maintains horrible accounts. She will bug you to pay for broken utensils or crockery that isn't your fault. She is the bitchy empress of the sleepy little village of VLS.

Oooh. I feel better already.

And as if the shitty times aren't over, I suddenly feel left out from parties and dinners. I think it is a function of a few factors: one, I'm not popular enough; two, I'm not social enough (well, can't help it, my nature); three, I'm not a girl (average looking girls also get invited to dinners, shucks). Getting left out isn't so bad, but when getting left out meant being driven home to sulk while your housemate heads out afterwards to all the cool social gigs make it suck. Yes, getting left out = jealousy + envy and the somewhat sick feeling that getting invited meant everything (socially).

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

Haha... a case of sour grapes, of course. I'm a sucker for feeling bad about myself, and given the right conditions (3 in fact), I just can't help but start feeling sorry about myself.

Eventually, these things don't matter, but it kind of rankles whenever feelings of this sort bubbles to the surface. It's not possible to prevent oneself from feeling it. Hopefully, other things and events in the long run will smooth out the short term ill feelings that nestle within oneself.

After all, I am myself: my definition of my self-worth isn't in the number of invitations I got.

A Bird in the Hand is Worth Two in the Bush

2006-10-05T19:47:00.000+08:00

... and right after typing in the title, I started having dirty thoughts about 'bird in hand' and 'in the bush'. Ack... my state of mind these days.

So anyhow, the topic of the day (as is the topic of anyday with some of the serious-minded-career types at INSEAD) is about the job search. The economics behind the job search plays out like the proverbial 'bird in hand' (give me a moment while I stifle the urge to think masturbatory thoughts):

1. You send out job applications by the truckloads.

2. Actually, this is step 0, but I'm lazy. You think about 3 factors when considering the jobs you apply for and use these like filters: Geography, Function, Category. With Geography (not the O-level subject you're thinking) you consider whether or not you want to work in a familiar environment, or somewhere exotic and new. Like Europe. Or London, which, apparently to some, is NOT Europe.

Then you think about the Category (my choice of word for this): do you want to work in Finance and Banking and not have a life? Or do you want to work in Consulting and not have a life? Or do you want to work in industry and curse the other guys for taking the better paying jobs? Tough questions to answer indeed.

Of course, there is Function to consider: which area of work? HR? Sales? Line Management (as opposed to managing dots which are 'infinite')?

Career Services advise that you don't change more than 2 of the above 3 dimensions with your career switch. I think that's bollocks: you should challenge yourself to do all 3 and leave me with the competitive advantage. :)

3. So, after sending out the applications, you sit, wait and twiddle thumbs. Very soon, one of two things happen:

a) you get an email or phone call telling you to come for an interview. Hooray!

b) you get an email (never a phone call at this stage, mind you) telling you politely to f*** off. A 'ding'. Here's an example of a ding I got (name of company removed to protect myself from potentially harmful repercussions):

Dear Greyscalefuzz,
Thank you very much for your interest in MyKickAssCompany.

Following careful consideration of your CV, we regret that we are unable to identify roles that would be a good fit between your skills and our needs at the current time. If you have no objections, we will like to retain your resume in our database, and get in touch with you should there be other opportunities in the future.

We would like to take this opportunity to wish you success in your MBA studies and all the best for your future endeavours.

Best regards,

MyName

That one's from an industry company. Here's one from a management consultancy:

Dear Greyscalefuzz,

Thank you for your interest in Talkalot Consulting Company.

Our worldwide recruiting committees have reviewed the information you sent us. We are impressed with your excellent track record and your demonstrated abilities. However, as we regularly receive a large number of applications, we are forced to make decisions on candidates based on written applications.

We regret that we cannot offer you a personal interview at this time.

We do appreciate your interest in TCC and wish you every success in finding a rewarding and challenging position.

Yours sincerely,
MyName

This one is a personal fave for the sheer pomposity of it:

Dear Mr Greyscalefuzz,

Thank you very much for sending MyConsultingCompany your curriculum vitae. We have reviewed it with interest, and it is clear that you have achieved significant academic performance and professional experience.

The standard of all the applicants from INSEAD and other top international MBA programs this year has been extraordinarily high, and we have been forced to apply a very severe set of criteria.

I regret to have to inform you that, despite your high level of achievement, we have decided not to proceed at this stage with the recruiting process.

We would like to suggest that you keep us informed of your professional moves, so that we may discuss further potential opportunities of working together at a future date.

We would like to thank you for your interest in MyConsultingCompany, and to wish you the very best for the remainder of your time at INSEAD, and for your career choices.

Best regards,
MyName

4. At this stage, I'm going to briefly summarise what happens: you go interview for the first round, sit and wait some more, then step 3 repeats itself (i.e. 'hooray' or 'ding'). Then there's 2nd round, and any number of stupid rounds these recruiters would like to have. At the end of it all, you either end up with a job, or you do not.

And here I go into complain mode once again: say you have a job already (bird in hand, snigger snigger), and you think to yourself 'Hmm, I like this job very much, but I kind of want to know what else there is out there that I can grab'. So you send out more job apps, keep your holing recruiter fan waiting, and, because of your stellar CV manage to get more job interviews. And you ace them. And you then end up with two fistfuls of job offers.

Then what? What's the point of feeding your ego that way? Come on: there are guys out there with mouths to feed (ok, I exaggerate), but you DON'T need to apply and reap that many. You can do with what you REALLY want, and isn't that a lot more satisfying for you? And can you actually face the fact that you're depriving both the company, and another considered applicant, a position through your own selfish actions?

Ah, my rants and raves. So there: the bird in hand is definitely nice. Those two in the bush are good too, and of course you should go for them if they are the right kind (and the bird in your hand isn't). But be a content person - too many birds can only mean too much bird shit, and shit in your face is bad for the skin.

A Man Goes on a Journey - Through His Cluttered Mind

2006-10-02T03:22:00.000+08:00

This is strange: I'm supposed to be really busy this period, but I've actually found time to blog more.

Earlier this year, it felt like a good week when I managed to write something, anything, at all. Then when it took two weeks, I didn't feel bad either, because I was genuinely tied up and I actually gave more thought to what I wrote.

This time around though, I'm not thinking that much anymore: I just wrote what I felt and whenever I felt like it. Reading some of that output though hasn't been satisfying: I think I thought I have been thinking less. In fact, I think I've been plagiarising a whole lot more.

And that's what I think I want to talk about: My Plagiarism.

Most written work are derivative in nature: they originated out of one source or another. For example, you will find that most themes have their roots in the Bible, whether intentional or not. Brother kills brother? Read Genesis for the story of Caine and Abel. Small guy beats the odds and thrashes big guy? David and Goliath. There is little in terms of thematic structure or plot that hasn't been written about before.

As an aside, I once wrote sometime back about how it was viewed that all stories take one of two forms. To reiterate, the two forms are: "A man goes on a journey" and "A stranger rides into town". It is too much of a stretch of generalisation to apply such a cookie cutter approach to stories. Using the idea of themes instead of plotlines (which is what man-journey and stranger-town fall into) should be the better way to go.

So why am I coming to this topic then? See, I'm beginning to see that this blog lacks a solid thematic structure: it is trying to be everything and nothing at the same time. I thought giving it the name of greyscalefuzz (used to use that nick in IRC chats I think) was appropriate: generally, it was kind of grey and fuzzy what I thought I wanted to blog about.

The theme? To call it a log of my personal thoughts and happenings seem to fall short in describing it. It's not really about my personal thoughts: it is sometimes about the thoughts of others, and my interpretation of something else I've read or heard or seen. It's rarely my idea or my thought - hence the derivation-driven quality of it.

And it certainly doesn't record much of what's happening (though, of late, I seem to be dumping some of the frustration I've felt at school). I don't meticulously bore people or myself with what's happening in my life. If you really want to know, I woke up this morning, feeling hungover without having drunk anything, brushed my teeth, spent my morning with Ron walking through the flea market, etc etc. Oh yes, come to think of it, if I wrote about Ron's life though, it DEFINITELY will be an interesting blog, but alas, I can't live his life (as he so succintly reminds me everytime, I haven't quite sufficiently screwed myself up enough).

So... the theme again? How about calling it a photoblog? Somehow that doesn't work either. I don't take photos often enough. And I only really start snapping when I'm on little trips overseas, either by myself or with others, but I tended to be more prolific whenever I went on trips by myself. I like some of the photos I've taken, but silly Shutterstock kept rejecting my batch submissions. See, you have to send in 10 photos, and have at least 7 of acceptable quality. Everytime I submitted (twice), only 6 passed their selection criteria. There were even photos which passed through the first time, but not the second (and here I wonder why). So alas, my photos aren't quite stock-photo quality, and I can't call this a photoblog much (not enough photos, no camwhore here I'm afraid).

Food blog? Forget about it. I'm the last thing to being a foodie: I just eat what's on the table. There are four words in my food vocabulary and they are Sour, Sweet, Bitter and Spicy. For one thing, I think Ms X has given up on educating me about the intricacies of French food and the fine dining experience. Food in front of me, I eat. Only care that it is something I've eaten before and it doesn't smell too strongly of garlic. Menu in French? Ok, point here, give me that (of course it helps when I can recognise words like Oeuf, Pomme de Terre, Poisson etc). Oh, okay French-idiots, it's Egg, Potato and Fish respectively.

How about theming this a blog expounding on political ideals and ambitions? Denounce Lee Kwan Yew! Singapore's an autocratic country! Enlightened Despot! Benign Dictatorship! The PAP sucks and all that crap!

Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha.

Ha.

I'm just not interested I suppose. I think its fine and all to discuss politics, especially in the arena of the blogging world, given the freedom of expression. But I sometimes don't really care: this little island will take its time to change, and no blogger or other person for that fact can complain enough, write childish Today articles enough, denounce the government from unheard-of American universities enough, hold ineffective demonstrations enough, and a whole lot of other enoughs to accelerate the pace of change in Singapore. It just takes time, and you can already see that it will get there. So patience: the course of politics is not for you or me to alter.

Ah, I digress again. Ok, let's call this the 'Ah, But I Digress...' blog. Shit, doesn't that make a cool name for a blog? Oh, and speaking of names, have I told you about how I came to call this blog 'Greyscalefuzz'? I've not? Must have been busy, and sure as hell, this week was really loaded: I had to send another ton of applications, sift through my dings, go to Markstrat classes...

Yup. I can definitely do that with my blog: Digress. But that's as good as saying that I cannot focus on this blog, and to no small extent, that is very true. I don't focus.

And I think that's why I have friends who read this: they find something they like somehow.

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Focus. I once dated someone who wrote a little poem to the Straits Times about concentrating and focusing. The thing is, we didn't go out for very long: in fact, it was more like 2-3 dates and then I never saw her again. Some things just didn't feel right about it, and I was distracted with things at my university at that time.

So it was with some surprise when I read the little poem in the Straits Times and I remembered her. I didn't try to get in touch, nor made any attempt to find out how to.

I think there are people in life that you just lose touch with, and when given the chance to, you don't quite bother to make the effort to catch up. For, after all, what can you say that is going to make any difference in what you did? (okay, so I didn't call, but here I am now!)

There were times when I passed an old NS friend or other on the street and the face became instantly recognisable. But I never did initiate any form of contact: I always recall the bad things about any relationship where I don't stay in touch, and my NS days weren't exactly the glorious fantasy that is Army Daze (for one thing, I was in the Navy).

So what of it? Lose touch forever? Rather that than an awkward smile and nervous laughter: I always laughed too loudly - it's very unlike myself.

Lose touch forever.

Getting Attached to my Baby

2006-10-01T07:18:00.000+08:00

It's not what you think.

The game: MarkStrat *

The Baby: SITH. Again, it's not what you think. SITH was the brand that I was the brand manager for (among other brands) and I named it, nurtured it, and am now watching it die. (sobs) MarkStrat brands follow some naming convention that restricted the first two letters for our firm's brands to SI, so I thought SITH would make a somewhat sinister dark horse brand to challenge some incumbents in another segment. (sorry... lotsa marketing speak there - ask me what it means sometime).

The game started off real fine: you are one firm, fighting five other firms in a marketing battle to the death. You decide what new products to introduce into the market, whether to break into the new innovative product space (read: Blue Ocean) or duke it out in the arena of endless despair (i.e. current product space a.k.a. Red Ocean). You also decide how much R&D (dirty word... dirty, dirty word) you want to do. You also have to decide how many salesmen to hire and fire and how much advertising you want to do. You think about what your stupid finicky customers want, what they think of your product, and whether you freaking care about it. All because you want to position your product at the right time, the right place, to meet their requirements (or they freaking don't buy those damn things!).

It is exhilarating when you're at the top of the game.

It is exasperating when you're not, and guess where my group went today.

Yup. Bottom of the food chain. From being top dog, we ended up being gutter guppies. What the heck happened???

The group kind of malfunctioned: no system to our plans, no system to our approach, no one process to rule them all. So, like the headless chickens of lore, we ran around spewing half-baked MBA marketing-speak by the bloody gushfuls, pretending like we're the best marketing strategists any firm out there can hire.

Well look where we are now folks. "How now, brown cow???" ARGH...

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

Ok, there is hope: the game is just half over and there're more rounds to play. Being the constructive nice person that I am (when I'm not being an explosive opinionated jerk), I'm going to work at actually fully understanding the tricks of the simulation. The trick about it all is that it IS just a simulation. The scary thing though is that it is quite close to being like the real world and that frightens me: the thought that the real world can seriously be modeled.

I guess the deal with MarkStrat is this: play it like it is a game, because that's what we do with real life anyhow. Treat it like a game and you won't be afraid to take risks. Play it like a pro and managing risks becomes part and parcel of your existence (ah... but the oh-so-clever finance gurus will say that you should make that decision only after using your risks to VALUE your options... but that's another story).

So lesson learnt: keep it real, keep it sane; it's just a simulation.

(and damned if I can't beat it)

* Here's the brief explanation: MarkStrat is a marketing simulation developed by 2 INSEAD professors using mathematical models based on a theoretical marketing foundation. It is used to learn strategic marketing concepts such as brand portfolio strategy or segmentation and position strategy, as well as operational marketing.
-- MarkStrat Online Student Handbook

Last Words I Take With Me from P4

2006-09-27T21:59:00.000+08:00

It's a little early for last words but I think I have experienced one of the best courses anyone at B-school can take. In parting, our dear PIM professor (a.k.a. Foul-mouth Fernando, whom some of us suspect to be gay, but don't quote me because I can't tell straights from bends) has shared the following words with us:

Caminante
No hay camino
Se hace camino al andar.

Al andar se hace camino
Y al volver la vista atras
Se ve la senda
Que nunca has de volver a pisar.

Caminante
No hay camino
Solo estelas en la mar.

For the rest of us who did not understand Spanish or Castillan (which includes moi aussi), the English translation reads:

Traveller,
There is no path.
You make the path as you walk.

As you walk, you make the path.
And when you look back
You see the path
That you will never travel again.

Traveller,
There is no path.
Only the wake of ships upon the ocean.

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

Recall Oasis: "Now don't look back in anger, I heard you say."

Get Off My Case

2006-09-27T05:56:00.000+08:00

A job in consulting hinges on aceing that weird thing known as the case interview. Supposedly, a case interview tests how well your thought processes are and whether you are able to think on the spot, have a structure to approach problems, and still be creative enough to find a solution.

Naturally, I feel a need to be honest and frank about what case interviews achieve. My frank opinion... case interviews are nonsense.

In fact, most interviews are. One can learn how to bullshit his way through any interview given enough practice, vault guides, help from career services and sheer hardheadedness.

Likewise with the case interview: you really do know what the other guy is asking for and it is just that well-known S word: Structure, structure and structure. So give that guy a bloody structure, and then watch out for signals that you're on the right path.

See, I think that's the trick with case interviews: you give some kickass hoe-down structure and then anticipate and look for reactions. It isn't about being well structured: it's about picking up on the non-verbal cues and hints that your very nice interviewer drops along the way. And that is why I think some of those people with the most stellar CVs fail at that critical juncture: the case interview.

So what is the interviewer looking for really? Ok, so you know you have to give him that dirty S-word. Three rules right? Rule number one: You don't talk about Fight Club. Rule number two: You don't talk about Fight Club. Rule number three...

Oh sorry, wrong movie. Ok, so the three rules work like this. Think of this as greyscalefuzz's framework for case interview success and someday I might be famous and write some self-help book on aceing that case interview (not that the vault guides, various consulting club manuals and career guides aren't doing the trick already).

Rule number 1: Give that guy a structure. ANY structure as long as it makes some kind of sense and is general enough to encompass whatever he is talking about. The safest structure is the 4Cs, and my version of it goes 'Company', 'Customers', 'Competitors' and 'Conditions'. Well twist it around and also add in things such as 'Profit = Revenue - Costs' and you should be well on your way.

Rule number 2: Be flexible. The last thing you should do is expect to stick to your structure. When you see that something you're touching on is making some leeway, abandon anything that sounds iffy and dive deep into the issue the interviewer has so kindly given you the hint about. So if you struck a chord when talking about the 'Company' and the interviewer mentions something about metrics and KPIs, be prepared to change tack and discuss measurements and stuff. Don't get hung up on your stupid 4C structure and keep harping back to it because, as is already obvious, that isn't what the interviewer is looking for.

Rule number 3: Look out for nonverbal cues and hints. Be one step ahead of the game and when given the slightest hint about something, pick on it and expound on it. The thing is to watch out, listen well, and then talk the topic to death. If you have the glib of tongue (which you should try to have, or you'll just be a mediocre case cracker), then be prepared to talk round a topic until something logical sticks.

Hmm... maybe rule number 3 doesn't sound so well expressed there. See, what I think most of the case interview hinges around is one being able to see that an interviewer has given one a lead. A lead may take many forms: perhaps the interviewer has voluntarily given you data, in which case that would be the most direct way to steer the discussion towards what has been given to you; perhaps the interviewer has mentioned that he would prefer to take a different approach; perhaps the interviewer expressed interest in a particular sub-area of your structure.

Whatever it is, a case interview is not meant to be approached with a formula in mind: take it as a chance to build some rapport with the interviewer and demonstrate your train of thought - always speak out loud.

And I think that is key: to make yourself heard - no, not your airheaded self, but what your brain goes through when solving a problem - and heard for the right things.

Oh hey, btw, I am no definitive authority on case interviews, but heck I think I have heard enough bitching about screwed up case interviews to say something about what went wrong. So there.

Show Your Sensitive Side - Spare a Thought for the Rest of Us

2006-09-23T05:31:00.000+08:00

It is a stressful time at INSEAD. We're now in the thick of the 4th period (the penultimate 2 month period before graduation) and the job hunting season is starting to go into its most depressing phase.

It works like this: consulting firms start recruiting really early in the game (don't count the I-bankers - they got their jobs over summer those s****). This means that the 2nd week of P4 onwards, the consultancies came incessantly onto campus to present, mingle, and organize dinners for us. On our end, we sometimes do our best to schmooze and try not to look like we're gulping too much champagne. Some of us can get quite aggressive: the schmoozefest usually take the form of a few guys surrounding one of the company reps (a partner, HR gal, manager or some poor consultant dragged into the affair), grilling the surroundee with question after question. The better schmoozers will ooze so much schmooze: they give out the namecards, they nod in appreciative gestures to indicate 'active listening', utter oft-used phrases and ask the same stupid questions.

But it doesn't end there: the consultancies play a similar game. They have access to our CVs: the database and an INSEAD-Career-Services-published CV book gives them the low-down on their harvesting pool, and from there, they decide that sitting and waiting for job applicants isn't proactive enough: they send out invites instead. What it does create is a certain one-upmanship among the MBAs: "Hey I got an invite to dinner with Booz's Dubai folks" or "Check this out: Bain has invited me to interview without even me submitting an application".

It goes along the same vein: there's a demand, and there's a ready supply. So some folks get targeted advertising and some others don't - CVs are not always up to scratch (and they don't reflect a person's real abilities that pile of crap). There is no period in INSEAD where more envy is generated, not even when folks were doing their summer internship applications. There is also no period where I saw so much frustration, anger, disappointment and shame.

See, not all of us have stellar CVs and track records. Come to think of it, even when comparing profiles among the lot of us, we discern no pattern that suggests what MBAs certain consultancies and their various offices are looking for. Queries into the exact criteria employed drew no replies - at times, it feels like consultancies are selecting their interviewees through a random process (that is, after filtering in the stars, and filtering out the obvious rejects).

On the average, almost everyone seems to have at least one interview with one consultancy (whether it be top tier Bain or second tier Value Partners - oops, I think I just insulted some firm there!). But the law of averages didn't matter shite to the folks that did not get a single interview.

That's right. They exist. My fellow South-East Asian is one example and he is not the happiest camper in Fontainebleau.

Spare a thought guys (that is, if you're reading this shite). I mean, its all fine and dandy telling everyone about your interviews and when they're scheduled, all the hoops the HR buggers are putting you through, and all the damn schmoozing that you had to do. It's all fine and dandy pronouncing your excellent candidature and prominent CV, and your multiple interview opportunities. It just isn't that nice when you're doing it to someone who hasn't got a single call, who hasn't got a single interview lined up, and who has received one 'Ding' upon another.

That's all I ask really, and it's not for me (I've got one interview, thank God!). If your OB lessons never bore fruition, now is the time you can utilize those skills you learnt. Spare a thought for these guys and show that you care.

INSEAD is one family and the family sticks by its members. - we celebrate any achievements and gains that any brother or sister is able to garner. We should also comfort and console those who are worn down and disappointed with the sorry affair.

Roundtable Discussion

2006-09-17T06:13:00.000+08:00

A friend I know well, her friend (I don't know that well) and I. A roundtable discussion about life - one of those things you do when you eat cake and drink tea (and nope, this is not the host club I'm talking about).

And so he's some kind of a med school student (said friend), and I figured that he didn't have any idea what to do with life. A simpler way to put it would be: there're many things that he can be, most promising of which is to be an eye doctor.

But complex questions asked deserve vague answers at best: what of such a vocation should he make of it?

Me being my helpful self decided to tell the stupid gynaecologist story (which I reserved for those special occasions where a med school student is present: no one has yet caught on that it was a total fabrication). The stupid gynae story goes thus:

A med school friend of mine graduated recently from school and decided to practise in a sex clinic as a gynae. As part of his job, he had to look at a whole lot of vaginas and, other than making him lose his appetite, it absolutely ruined his sex life for the better part of six months. He didn't eat well, he couldn't enjoy any of the hardcore jap porn he collected on his PC, and he definitely found no joy pleasuring himself. Poor sod.

In any case, he got over the initial disgust and now totally immerses himself in the work (which consist of mainly him putting his gloved fingers up very small spaces and getting them wet; the fingers). So as the days went by, he grew more nonchalent about it, and found some joy in making jokes about his patients and derived amusement from the interactions with his various patients: the well-worn prostitutes, the terrified pinafored schoolgirls, the mothers-to-be.

One day, he found himself at his cynical best when a patient walked in, mentioned something about missing her period, and got herself plonked and examined. It turned out that she was 2 months pregnant, and the dear gynae friend decided that congratulatory greetings were in order.

"Congratulations madam. You are pregnant."

"But... but that can't be."

"Yes, you are pregnant."

"It's impossible... I've never had sex before."

"Er... Unless you were artificially inseminated (which you WOULD know about), then you must have had sex. You ARE pregnant."

"It can't be... I've never had sex before."

And so it went, back and forth. Gynae says she's pregnant. She insists she's an innocent virginal girl. Fed up with the pointlessness of it all, said gynae went to the window and shoved it wide open. He looked out, gazing at nothing in particular. After a tense 30 seconds, the virginal innocent couldn't take any more of the nonsense and asked, "What are you looking at?"

Said gynae's wicked reply was "Well, the last time this happened, there was a star in the East."

I did say it was a stupid story...

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

Right, it was a roundtable discussion about life-changing moments, and apparently, for late 20-somethingers, there hasn't been admittedly many of these. The one life-changing moment I brought myself round to mention was a sad one, for which I never gave any details.

I did say it resulted from a conversation I had.

I did say that a month later, it resulted in a friendship lost.

I did say also that losing a friend wasn't all that was lost in that moment, for something of my soul went with it as well.

I also said that life-changing moments are those times when your soul is scarred, altered and marred by an external occurence. Nevermind that it might have been a positive development - at the point life changed, it was nothing more than losing some part of your real self.

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

Yes it is not something to talk about in an MBA class, but the course is something special at INSEAD: the topic was on coping with stress, and yes religion is one way of helping the human psyche cope with the stress of the world.

I also don't deny that having absolute faith is good for the soul: the person with real faith is not necessarily free from stress, but he does have an outlet and a coping mechanism that, bar none, is far better than what any psychologist can do for you.

Plus... its free.

But losing your religion is not a step forward, and there's where I disagree. No matter what creed or faith we bind ourselves to, having no one to build a common belief with is fundamentally wrong. It is like being an island unto oneself, and floating adrift in isolation. For to believe only in one self and one's abilities is limiting - the mind and especially the body are finite. The infinite gives us hope no matter how faint the sound of that voice might be.

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

Ah my pseudo-philosophical babble. I consume too much bullshit these days.

Authenticity and Change - To Be or Not To Be

2006-09-13T06:27:00.000+08:00

I was intending to reply to a comment to my previous post when I realised that my comment to that comment became longer than a comment merited, and my comment to that comment became its own post.

Confusing? You bet. That's what life's like when you comment too much. Instances of comments outdoing the post are all too common. Commentable comments aside, they somehow have little pride of place in the blogosphere - most comments are given RSS feeds to track back to (thus, comments kind of get... lost).

Still, the comment my friend made was regards authenticity. Bahloo said "If you are yourself and you don't like what you see, should you change or learn to accept it?"

Tough question. But if I can claim to having any pet topics at all, two of them are likely to be about authenticity and change.

My view on change is that it has to be accepted as a constant. It is like one of those undeniably powerful forces in life that shapes and molds one, and denial of, or resistance to, change is typically futile. One has to ride it out, take the punches like a man and move on.

My view on authenticity is that one should strive to be genuine, whether it be in dealings with others, or, more importantly, dealing with oneself. When you can see yourself for what you truly are, and acknowledge your wrinkles et al, then you can truly be comfortable with yourself, and therefore with others.

To change yourself requires a whole lot of courage - for one thing, it means recognising that you are not the person that you want to be right now. To me, it is not unauthentic to change; it is unauthentic though to change superficially. It is unauthentic, and a whole lot sadder, to change what you were born into.

For instance, take fake breasts. Suppose you are a girl and you don't like your breasts because they are too small. So you get implants and in so doing, double your cupsize overnight. What have you changed? Perhaps bigger breasts gave you confidence you never had, garnered you more attention from prying male eyes, and added that bounce in your step. But is that you? Do you really need fake breasts to become a new person?

My honest opinion: if you can face what you see in the mirror, you're authentic. Doesn't matter that cosmetic surgery gave you what you were not born with. What matters is that you re able to live with yourself as the kind of person you manufactured yourself to be. And in your dealings with others, when you can project your self-concept (your idea of who you are) that is consistent with your self-ideal (how you think you should behave), then you are consistent with yourself. There is nothing wrong with upping your self-esteem in artificial ways.

But I do object to people denying what they were born into. To over-dramatise it a bit, imagine a taiwanese Qiong Yao soap opera (complex relationships, prodigal sons, wayward daughters, unfaithful husbands, the works). A boy was born into a humble family, single mother raising 5 kids all on her own. Imbued with a hard-nosed work ethic and the notion that hard work and striving gets him far, he works hard and through his own merit, rose to a position of power and wealth. But when quizzed about his background, he disavows having been born of a single mother and living in poverty. He does not acknowledge his mother, despises the conditions he was born into, and feels disgust at dealing with his hicksville siblings, thinking them to be like moths drawn to the glory of his bright flame.

That is an unauthentic change of self: you may have achieved what you have desired and set out to do. You may have authored your rise to fame and glory, wealth and riches. But if you deny your history, if you deny your family and relations in some vainglorious attempt at attaining a higher state of self, then you do not deserve to be what you are. Assuming and attaining that isn't change of a genuine nature, for it meant change at the expense of denying what you were born with.

I don't like assumed attitudes and I certainly don't like airs. If there is one last thing I can say about the subject, it is that if you are not yourself, you are not doing yourself any favours. Sooner or later, the real self is revealed. Sooner or later, the truth is unearthed.

Authenticity, Careers and Art

2006-09-08T05:06:00.000+08:00

Like a track out of Prodigy's best album ('Fat of the Land' I think), this post is probably a wierd mish of skippy beats.

Much as I have learnt from my course in PIM, perhaps the one big lesson that came out of it was that one should aim to be authentic. Being authentic with yourself is the first step in being a better person - when you don't lie to yourself, you will see more of your own flaws and come to view your self-esteem in the right light. In a way, if your ego is the inflated sort (like most MBAs are wont to be) then you most likely need a dose of self-criticism, and see where you really stand as a human being.

Being authentic with other people is a lot harder though. The oft-used cliche of 'putting on a mask' reminds me of how people that I sometimes interact with on a daily basis aren't always being true. Typical casual friends tend to assume a veneer of falsehood as some kind of screen, maybe in some attempt to hide the true self underneath. I guess most people do want their true selves to be 'revealed' in some form or other - they just aren't comfortable enough to want to do that in an obvious way. I believe everyone likes to be heard, and when you can bear to listen to some of the false pompous shit for a while, the true self emerges.

Speaking of revealing, a lot of what I am doing these days is trying to get folks to reveal more - not about themselves, but about their companies. INSEAD's P4s are in the thick of the recruiting season, with 2-3 companies coming every day for this week and next, all in the name of snatching the best MBAs for their firm. The P4s that are job hunting go out of their way to socialise, mingle and network. The P4s that aren't job hunting go out of their way to have fun (and make us job seekers jealous). Cruel, cruel world we live in out here - job search one moment, group meetings the next.

But... somehow, I found time to go to Paris on Sunday. Short trip to see the Musee d'Orsay for free. What struck me about the museum was how they seemed to have a different policy with regards cameras. In contrast with the Louvre (where photography was strictly forbidden), the d'Orsay allowed one to take pictures of the paintings, as long as no flash was used. This meant that one had to grapple with trigger happy tourists taking pictures of other happy tourists standing in front of modern art. How grothesque: go buy the bloody postcards ye cheapskate tourist!

Does it really add to your 'here I am' collection to have a picture of you standing in front of a Renoir or Monet? Like the folks at home are even going to notice. I was really peeved with a particular Brit tourist who shooed me out of his shot while I was looking at a Monet. Like I had no right to be between his phone camera and the painting. Come on... this is an art gallery, not the Eiffel Tower.

Oh, I was guilty of taking a couple of pictures though:

The ground floor of the museum was all sculpture. Rooms to the left and right housed older paintings, some just prior to the impressionist movement.

A clock on the fifth floor of the building offered some interesting picture opportunities. Didn't hang around long though - people just don't like their pictures taken by a stranger that much.

No to no; Pics from Prague

2006-09-02T00:21:00.000+08:00

Things have improved - I was able to finally register on the course I wanted, but at the expense of dropping another mini course.

For this period, Psychological Issues in Management (PIM) was offered in 2 sections, and with an initial cut-off point of 80, it was a popular course and in high demand. Furthermore, there was already an expansion from one to two sections and when I checked with the professor, he exclaimed that 2 was as far as he can possibly handle: any more would have been too much of a drain. Organizational Behaviour (OB) courses tend to be an energy-draining affair for the professor: my P1 OB lecturer wept at the end of an emotionally charged period with us.

Still, I'm happy to get to do PIM: after getting a 'No' from the professor, I followed a suggestion from a housemate and approached the administration instead. I guess they like their more enthusiastic students, and I got accepted into PIM. The only snag was that I had to drop something else (a clash of classes - even though I had a solution around it, the lady from the MBA office refused to hear any of it)

Perhaps what I should learn from this is that no 'No's are absolute. There are always ways to work around a rejection and perhaps get a compromise or another way to achieve the desired outcome. Rejection should not be hard to handle - though life may be full of it, there's always something else to go to, or another way to approach it. With the job search activities going on the next few weeks, rejection is probably going to be a frequent occurence.

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

My last batch of pictures from my trip in Europe during July. I approached Prague without a guidebook, map, and hardly any idea what to see. Until, of course, a friend in the UK tsk-tsked away and lent me a guidebook for some ideas. I enjoyed Prague, but the problem was I never ventured out of it - interesting nearby towns like Cemsky Krumlov and Kutna Hora were missed on account of my reluctance to spend more money and a little poor planning. Plus I was already stuck in Prague after putting money down on that hostel room.

Shadows played a huge part in the photos I took in Prague. Summer in Europe meant long days and long shadows, and that's what I composed most of the pictures with. Have a look!

Sunset on Charles Bridge - I started getting artistic with the black and whites - there're many of those in the set.

Reflection of some logs on the Vltava River - for what purpose I still can't fathom.

I have a theory that a city big enough to have a metro train system is too big. Prague has a smallish metro system and people still get around alot on trams. They're kind of romantic but watch out for the pickpockets.

Too bad I couldn't get this guy right where I wanted him in this picture. I don't understand why seeing a photographer meant you have to avoid the space he is trying to capture.

Mum was trying to show her toddler the beautiful rose stained glass window in the church. Nope, I don't take pictures of rose stained glass windows because they're too common (on the web)

Under the Bench. Neat thing you can do with lines in a shot, but the bright parts just wash out when you up the contrast on the picture. I like it nonetheless.

Another sunset shot done at Charles Bridge, with the unnecessary areas of the bridge darkened away to highlight the people walking under the bridge tower.

Sighs... the flares ruin an otherwise perfect shot. Maybe I should get my photoshopper friend to do something about those flares.

At the tower overlooking the town square, and looking out at the rooftops of Prague.

Fishing for sunshine.

A Exercise in Futility

2006-08-29T20:58:00.000+08:00

Last period's Negotiations Analysis was a hoot: Horatio proved to be the uber cool nego teacher that previous promotions claimed, and he lived up to his reputation (and unfortunately, only some of our expectations) of delivering an entertaining, high-impact negotiation class.

One of the exercises that I did for that class was the 10 'No's exercise. For the purpose of writing the paper, one is supposed to make requests of people that go beyond what they usually can offer for us: get the bus driver to give a discount on the bus ride; ask for more cockles in the kway teow (truly Singaporean, hehe...). Out of these situations, one is to collect 10 Nos for the purpose of documenting the negotiation process. The purpose was to test one's negotiating ability and to see how one can navigate from a 'No' to a 'Yes'.

The stupid thing was in trying to wrack my head to find the 10 situations to write about.

The even stupider thing was in finding myself in more 'No' situations after the class itself. It is a case of divine providence (or some shit like it): after doing a class about getting people past 'No', I find myself getting more 'No's than before.

Take, for instance, Emirates. I was on a flight out of Paris CDG to Singapore on an Emirates flight with 36kg of baggage, 6 more than the allowed requirement. I asked to check in all 2 pieces of luggage, and was denied. The Emirates staff then said oh-so-nicely something about having the authority to allow an extra 4kg, but the extra 2kg had to be charged at something in the range of 60 euros per kg. That is extreme extortion!

The case is thus: I can bring the 9kg piece on board as hand carry, and the other 27kg piece checked in. BUT I cannot check both in because, together, they exceeded the check-in requirement. However, both pieces EVENTUALLY ended up on the same airplane (Oh... so if I pay, I can expect to carry less and make you more money?). The best was in the explanation of the policy: Emirates won't let me check 36kg in because if that happened, then they open the floodgates to everyone demanding the same treatment.

My cheeky question about whether they indeed have everyone making my apparently 'outrageous' drew heated angry berating from the angry french Emirates lady at the check-in counter - I blew my value creation opportunity right then.

Anyhow, that was back in July. More recently, the last 2 days brought its own drama of 'No's to have permanently scarred my naive self. (Ok, I exaggerate: I am just peeved at not getting them to 'Yes').

Yesterday: the Business Card affair. I needed to make a batch of business cards for schmoozing purposes and went to the INSEAD bookstore (appropriately called FootNote - bottom of the page, small font; INSEAD's bookstore used to be tucked neatly away in some basement) to fill in the application form. The business cards had a section for ONE telephone number. I asked to put in TWO: one for my France mobile, another for my Singapore mobile (I am going back in two months after all).

'No.'

So, like the diligent nego pugilist that I am supposed to be after Horatio's course, I asked 'Why?'

Because the format is stated as ONE number by the administration and there's no going against it. So they've defered to a higher authority on this matter and refused to do anything about it.

So I looked for other options...

'No.' (I hadn't even fully explained my half-baked suggestions)

The conversation carried on in a similar vein and 'No' was all I got (and I was both courteous and nice in the entire transaction).

The French don't really make it easy: it seems like when their mind is set on a way of doing things, nothing on Earth is going to worm its way out of the set way of doing things.

My most recent 'No' was, for me, an unfortunate one. Having been waitlisted in the PIM course (Psychological Issues in Management) I was hopeful of being able to attend the class. Turnover is usually quite high and being #4 on the waitlist usually means that one can get into the class of choice. But the OB professor was not keen on having more students - he seemed more interesting in whiling the numbers down instead.

So waitlisted students on PIM? No chance.

I asked him about it during the break and yup, 'No.' Albeit in a much nicer tone of voice than the way with which he conducted his expletive laden spiel. His speech may be explicit laden ('Fuck', 'Piece of Shit' - if it were on TV you might as well call it the 'Bleep' show), but what he is teaching has so much relevance to how we relate to one another. Damn I wished I had put in more points into that damn course.

'No' being all that I've heard recently, I'm getting worried about facing the impending job search activities ahead: am I to expect more 'No's?

My feel is that it'll only make the 'Yes' that is to come sound oh-so-sweet. (Yup, I'm still an optimist).

Update: A New Period

2006-08-29T05:41:00.000+08:00

The last few days have been one of transition. Physically, I've made the move from Singapore to France again; from the sunny island to the freezing forest. Well, its not all doom and gloom here: its just cloudy and rainy, with nary a ray of sunshine. It didn't help that it showered unrelentingly while I was collecting the car at the airport. It didn't help that I caught a cold today either. Let's hope my mood and that of the weather improves.

Also, it is a transition from the summer break back into school life. I thought I might be able to 'ease' back into P4 with ease; kinda like slipping my fingers into a familiar glove. Unfortunately, 2 months of non-MBA brain activity has rendered me unable to comprehend anything finance-related: WACC is not the sound that a duck makes; RONIC is not a daimyo-less Japanese warrior. And these two things have some funky relationship with growth that determines if your firm is creating or destroying value. Gawd - why am I putting myself through Applied Corporate Finance (ACF) hell?

What's more, P4 (i.e. Sep/Oct) is when the job search kicks into high gear (if it hasn't it should now), i.e. its time to get bloody serious about getting employed for summer sunnies like me. Folks like myself just decided to do summer our own way and thus start P4 with the slight disadvantage of not having done an internship. Two months atrophying away doesn't mean that we've lost the edge - it's just that I think those lucky interned ones who get a job offer might just have an easier time in P4.

Oh I just realised this post has been entirely from a first person perspective so far. It is a lot harder to write personal experiences from another angle, and I guess when my brain is still stunted from the bullet train finance lecture (our ACF faculty just sped through the lesson today), I'm just less inclined to be thoughtful to the reader. :) Sorry, my bad.

In any case, I'll be in France until the end of October, by which point, it'll be too cold for me (I'm a sunnie) and I'll scoot back home to SG. INSEAD is seeing a new batch of fresh-faced P1s and my promotion now finds itself being the senior batch. One year programs are just too fast: six months into it and you're a senior. Four more months and you're out the door a newly minted MBA.

Oh. Two more months and home I'll be.

Guess where I want to be now?

Stringing It All Together - Analogising it

2006-08-21T23:23:00.000+08:00

If someone emailed you a notion of hers, and you find it thoughtful, maybe even somewhat meaningful. And after a moment (oh, perhaps something like a month later), you think that it might be something that you want to blog about. Maybe it is an idea, but you want to expand on it, give your own version of it. It's like, taking a song and remixing it - maybe call it the greyscalefuzz blogrot remix (except that it's with a piece of writing). It is essentially your own thing, but with a premise taken from someone else. You know, borrowing, re-doing it... perhaps even giving credit for where it came from.

So, if you did all that, does it count as plagiarism?

I don't know, but if this post gets taken offline for some reason, you know why.

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A friend told me in an email (not so long ago) that a relationship is like a piece of thread. When you embark on a new relationship, it is akin to cutting a length of the thread with a pair of scissors. As the relationship progresses along, through all its ups and downs, there might come a point where it breaks into two - perhaps it is an event that prompts a break up, or maybe something like an extended period of being apart. When a thread breaks, it is possible to mend it back together again - perhaps using glue, or maybe some sticky tape.

However, no matter how much the thread gets put together again, it is undeniable that it was separated before - everyone will notice that it has been mended. It's like that patch that one sews onto clothes: the patch covers up a tear or hole, but it is undeniable to one and all that the clothes are ruined and that patch only served to accentuate that. The thread is thus noticeably weaker - everyone around can tell. Why not then cut a new length of thread and start again? Perhaps this new length won't break so easily.

I liked my friend's analogy, but I decided that, like countless analogies I've heard in my life, it bears expanding upon. Think of it as an exercise in helping people make sense of the world: analogies help us manage as if the world was a simpler place to live in. Analogies were the first real and crude (and perhaps even oral) instances of models of the world. Models were built to help people simplify and generalise the world they live in - using analogy is just a way of doing that.

As for the thread analogy, one should think about what the thread is made out of first. Is it nylon thread? Or perhaps just ordinary button sewing string? Or is it layered and thick like a rope? A thick thread made out of a tough material is surely harder to break, or cut, than the ordinary string. It might even bear more weight and can take more strain if anyone tries to pull it apart.

Likewise with a relationship: if the relationship was built on more solid ground, then it is perhaps more able to stand most stress and strain put onto it. A relationship built on common goals, principles, faith, and background has more 'fibre' than one based on lust, money, companionship and availability. When it is important attributes (principles, faith etc) that connect two people, it is less likely that one can find these attributes in other people (probably because it takes too much out of one to dig out such gems).

On another point in the thread analogy, the bit about mending a thread seemed kind of odd. People don't usually mend thread - they just throw it away and use a new one. It should be kind of hard sticking two separate pieces of thread and expecting it will function like a new one, right? Perhaps, instead of a relationship being like a piece of thread, I think everyone is like a thread of their own. When one thread finds another thread, they may want to get together and form a bend knot (something like... tying the knot, but not in the marriage sense). Note: Bend knots are knots formed when two pieces of rope are tied together at the end.

It is the kind of knot tied that determines the strength of the relationship. Oh, and whether the two threads were compatible in the first place (try knotting together sewing thread and nylon). It is not impossible for two incompatible pieces of thread to be knotted together. It depends on what kind of knot is being used to bring the two together. A well-tied knot ensures that the two separate threads stay together under pressure - they don't come apart easily.

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Being home now, I sometimes tune into NewsRadio FM93.8 while driving (this being in Singapore). This is largely because it supposedly has more informational content (it does make for less mind numbing fare than the typical morning show tripe). One of the items I do enjoy are the interviews they put on the air, and there was one which I heard three times already (well, they can't do THAT many interviews, so some of them get substantially more airtime).

This interview was with a Singaporean ex-priest with an education in public policy and an MBA to boot. He is now running some sort of leadership coaching program for Singaporean undergraduates. Unfortunately for me, I didn't manage to catch his name (despite 3 hearings of the show), otherwise I would have googled him.

The interviewee witnessed an interesting coaching session using a familiar analogical exercise: a jar is provided to the participants along with the following items: some fist-sized rocks, pebbles, sand and stones of varying sizes. The objective was to fill the jar with as much of the rocks, pebbles and sand as is possible to fit within the jar. As is the case, if one had filled the jar with the sand first, it would have been impossible to put in any of the rocks or pebbles since the sand would have packed the jar tight.

When asked what the exercise had meant, the textbook answer was that the items represented priorities in life, and the rocks and pebbles, being the biggest, were the biggest priorities in life. If they were sorted out first (i.e. placed in the jar) then any space leftover may be filled with the sand (the small things in life). If the small things were to be done first, then there would have been no space for the big items, since the sand would have filled the jar without leaving any room for other stones.

The interviewee then mentioned one particular response he heard which struck as being somewhat very incisive. One participant's view was that the rocks and pebbles, the big things, were one's dreams, while the sand was but the itty-bitty stuff of life. If one were to fill his life living out the itty-bitty stuff, fussing over the mundane and unimaginative, then there would have been no space for the dreams. The dreams, according to this participant at least, are the most important things to address in one's life.

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I am wondering, and am still wondering to no end, whether or not I am achieving my dreams: I still don't know what they are, and I still don't know whether the path I am walking down leads unto it. There is no analogy or model that can help direct my life: there is only analogy or model to help me understand how best to live it.

The Break Up - My Side

2006-08-16T23:53:00.000+08:00

This is going to sound like one of those blog entries where the blogger goes out of his/her way to do something outrageous with his/her life. All in the name of having something to blog about that is not so mundane and can actually pull in the eyeballs.

But... that wasn't why I did this.

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Ever wondered what it's like to watch this movie with your recent ex?

The Break-Up

For me, it was somewhat surreal. It's like all the bad behaviour you ever displayed in a relationship is magnified and played back to you. For a guy like me, I get to see how insensitive I could have been, even if my proxy was Vince Vaughn. I could have cared a little more, showed some appreciation, yet at times, I just want to do my thing and forget the (perceived by me to be) superficial stuff, the unsubstantial feely things that the woman only hinted at and 'fuzzed' about.

For the ex, perhaps it was a little of a revelation - she came out of the theatre with questions. She came out requiring some answers and perhaps sought to see things from a different perspective (at least, that was what I hoped I saw...) In so doing, she made the inner me smile a little contented smile. It was what I was hoping for - closure. :)

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Oh go watch this movie if you like - describing it as a romantic comedy is, in my opinion at least, incorrect.

Before I launch into why, I need to first recall an International Political Analysis (IPA) class that I had back in May, where the professor described Singapore's government as that of a 'Benevolent Dictatorship'. That, of course, drew an objection from a particular Singaporean (take a guess as to who). Said professor then asked to which part the objection was regarding, that Singapore is 'benevolent', or that it is a 'dictatorship'? His implication being that by themselves, the individual words do not describe what the phrase as a whole encompass, and that was what uniquely identified Singapore (a compliment, in less oblique terms).

And this is where my issue regarding 'The Break-Up' resides. The Break-Up is NOT romantic. It is a break-up and even most die hard romantics will be pressed hard to see anything mushy in the proceedings. The break-up is painful for both parties, and at that juncture, it isn't about the romance anymore, but about the practicality (or lack of) in living with another human being. Brooke (Jennifer Aniston) broke up because Gary's (Vince Vaughn) insenstivity went overboard (when Gary's maths failed him in a lemon test and he couldn't care less). What is so romantic about that?

The Break-Up is NOT a comedy - it is extremely painful to see two people go out of their way to hurt each other, and to induce ill-calculated reactions from the significant other. It doesn't make one laugh much (well, it has its moments, but the whole 'comedic' theme of a couple slugging out for a condo gets shafted by the emoting of the leads). Comedies have a nice neat way of wrapping things up, with the typical happy endings and with messy situations tidily resolved. The Break-Up stayed that way: they broke up.

So does it qualify as a romantic comedy? Not strictly. Most rom-coms end the other way - with boy meeting girl and hooking up. Meet, swoon, kiss, smiles, roll credits. The Break-Up started when things get messy: when 12 lemons became 3 and the lady of the house didn't get her talking point of a table centrepiece. Romantic comedies are like Sleepless in Seattle, where despite the odds, the leads end up together. The Break-Up is where, despite all odds (ok, when a girl walks around your apartment naked, it is NOT because she wants you to wank off in the bathroom later), the leads split up.

So what kind of a movie is it?

Definition and categorisation notwithstanding, it is a movie to watch for those times when you wonder why a relationship ever broke up. For a partner to watch it with, there is none better to recommend than with a recent ex: I think that it is a good way to invite a closer examination into the workings of a concluded relationship. No matter the circumstances of your break-up, seeing a break-up rom-com is a good way to seek closure.

Having closure, after all, is the most healthy way that people should part: leaving with a better understanding of themselves, the lessons learnt, and why things can be done better.

Google-Addled and Familiar Sights from London

2006-08-10T01:05:00.000+08:00

A couple of weeks back, I decided to make this website contribute a little to the greyscalefuzz get-rich-and-retire fund by adding Google ads. Making this blog a somewhat more commercially viable enterprise was just an exercise in seeing what that new-fangled Google tool could do. And I ended up being more interested in what ads they pulled out with the words written on my entries.

One thing that caught on immediately was my brief reference to the D_a Vin_ci Co_de - lots of links to Christian websites debunking Mr Brown's wild theories. Another one that was more recent gave me a link to a site that had a detailed theological explanation of Jo_hn chapter 1. Interesting stuff - I think it is good to know that a true reading of the bible need also involve some understanding of the context, and the language it was originally written in.

(Oh, in case you're wondering what explains those underscores... '_', I'm trying to see if they fool GoogleAds - I don't really want the same results returned again, like a broken record... that annoying thing)

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London.

I kind of liked and disliked London all at the same time. I've always liked old cities with a lot of history and culture behind it. Everything is in English - the signs, the announcements on the Tube, the maps. Everything is immediately understandable and not too much of a cultural shock. I can actually order a quarter pounder, fries and coke light without tongue twisting in excruciating French, or getting all signy-pointy with Spanish counter staff.

What I hated though was the whole hustle and bustle of a big city - I think any city with a population in excess of 2 million, and owning a subway system qualifies as a big city. And cities having subways are annoying in the way that they swallow individuals up and spew them out in mass quantities at precise locations within them. The crowding makes people short on temper and short on courtesy at times - I've never felt more small and insignificant. I've never felt more swallowed up than in London (perhaps I might feel the same in Tokyo; I've certainly felt that in New York)

Pics:

The London Eye when your eye cannot see the whole of it from the bottom up.

A small pic to show you everything London: the double decker, Big Ben, part of the London Eye, and the unholy mating of the London Cab and Hello Kitty (pink cab, bottom right)

Squinty-eyed me 'flying' on the London Eye. Didn't help that I seldom trusted strangers with my camera, so I held it by myself.

Kids, this is the Tower Bridge. NOT the London Bridge of that nursery rhyme fame.

My favourite pic from London does not show anything Londony at all. :) A couple holding hands and walking away. Ahhh....

Picadilly Circus (did I get that right?) Busy junction et al.

Scene from one of those ubiquitous Tube stations. Someday, I got to go back and get a better shot at these places - damn hard with people walking all over the place and shoving you towards the tracks.

See other pics of London here

The Word

2006-08-06T21:44:00.000+08:00

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." John 1:1-5

One of the most abstract ideas that came from the bible was concerning the Word. The Word from the above passage obviously refers to Jesus. But just as simply, I think the passage is trying to hint at the power of the spoken word - Jesus, being God's son, came to the World to spread His Word, and it was with such a notion that the writer of the Gospel of John regarded Jesus.

(Oh, on a side note, theologians will actually use this phrase to expound on a whole load of information, such as that this phrase explicitly mentions Jesus as God, and not as a being created by God. As such, he isn't man, but God in the flesh.)

Anyhow, I just wanted to start with something that brings me to my real topic: words are powerful things, whether they be written or spoken. Words have the power to change or even to stymie change, and the first instance of such a thing happening (and again I quote from the bible) was when God created the world: Let there be light, and there was light. Amazing how something spoken (albeit by a omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent being like God) can have the power to create and to bring forth something new.

But that's just the bible... or is it? How is it that we, as mere human beings, have allowed words to affect how we act or how we feel? How is it that we have afforded mere words that much power?

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Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. I disagree - I think words can hurt. I know - I've experienced it so personally before. When you love someone and he/she doesn't love you back, gentle words to decline may soothe the pain. But when someone prefers a quick and dirty way out of a sticky situation, the nastier words the better.

Words can hurt, but I hear it is only because we let them. Can one really be that insensitive to another's utterance or opinion? The answer as I have learnt to say it: It depends.

But I shall not elaborate. :)

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My favourite comic book author (so far) is Alan Moore, the original creator of works such as V for Vendetta, A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and Watchmen. Look out for the movies, but don't bother looking for any credits to Mr Moore though - only a genius dissociates from the bastardization of his own work.

In any case, one of his less well known comics was Top Ten. A not so major character (but important to the plot) from the story was called Harry Lovelace, the hostage negotiator otherwise known as 'The Word'. The Word's power (it is a comic book and he is a super hero amidst a book filled with them) comes from his ability to compel people who hear him speak obey him. He is very, in a word, persuasive.

See, all he has to say is 'Put your hands up!' and you're compelled to do just that, without any rhyme or reason to. I think it is an especially useful ability to have: need cash? Just compel people on the street to hand the money in their wallets to you. Want sex? Just ask for it.

But the Word is really a metaphor more than a real character - the Word is like that character you have to obey in real life. The boss, your sergeant, the missus. Anyone with the power to say something to make you do an action, or to feel an emotion. Like an order issued for you to quickly get an assignment done. Or a guilt trip to emotionally blackmail you for not buying her flowers for her birthday.

(Sidenote: I think that being the Word in the comic book isn't all it is cut out to be though. Suppose you can't turn that ability off, and whatever you say is going to be taken literally. You can't really joke around much, like when someone tells some really kick-ass joke, and you're laughing your hardest, and you happen to utter "Ah you're killing me". Imagine what the consequences would be.)

So, in a way, having the power of the Word - whether it means that you're the one with the power to order someone, or to create specific emotions in someone else - you are responsible for the words you speak, so speak them with care.

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In a recent episode of the anime xxxHoLiC, a character, one of a pair of twins, has an inferiority complex. She lets whatever she hears about herself influence her person, and much of what she had heard were negative comments from her twin sister. In and of itself, the words that she had heard were not meant to limit her abilities - the fact is that she herself acts as an amplifier for the words spoken, and they become a limiting mechanism.

Simply put, if you keep hearing someone say that you're clumsy, and you believe it to be true, then you will be clumsy.

Perhaps it comes down to 2 factors... no 3 factors: the issuer, the receiver and the amplifier. The issuer speaks, the receiver listens, but it's the amplifier that makes either something sound trivial, or makes it the most compelling thought-provoking message ever heard. (And here I start getting reminded of my uni days as an electrical engineering undergrad - hard to imagine now, but those amplifiers we were all made to build have such enormous philosophical relevance, and yet, we were so caught up in the capacitors, resistors and general circuitry of it all that we fail to see the amplifier as nothing more than a goddamn hindrance to graduation)

The amplifier comes in many forms but I believe the one most important is that amplifier inside of oneself. Some people I know manage to tune that amplifier to only hear what they want to - like a low-pass filter of sorts, they filter off all the high frequencies and hear the good parts (the bass). Some others are unable to hear the good parts, and tune in only to negative comments, on which they remind themselves of their fragility.

I can't offer a way to tune that amplifier to hear the whole message though, and it is only human to tune in or tune out as we see fit. Perhaps it is important to realise that we inherently tune the messages we hear, and that should be sufficient to know. I have always heard that it is important to analyse what you hear in the context of what the issuer is saying - perhaps that is where I shall start now.

I shall start listening - without tuning.

Fuzzy Logic

2006-08-03T01:29:00.000+08:00

A famous song goes this way:

"Feelings... nothing more than feelings... Trying to forget... my feelings of love"

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It is so hard to answer that simple question "How are you?" without either feeling like I'm not being entirely truthful, or not being entirely succinct. How do you sum up a whole baggage worth of roller-coaster emotions into a supple little paragraph? How do you say the right words, without saying too much, and not sounding like you're copping out of a simple question?

"Fine, I guess."

Wrong answer. It invites more questions.

"You guess? What do you mean? You're fine but not exactly?"

Perhaps "Fine" would have done it. But when your heart is worn on your sleeve, when your face is the reason for your failure in poker tournaments, you know you aren't getting away with a simple answer.

Which is where I face my biggest problem: explaining. No words can fully capture absolutely the emotions that I've felt, or the stupid thoughts that I have thought about. Something can be both true and untrue, much like in fuzzy logic.

I am both happy and unhappy. Happy that things turned out well. Unhappy that things didn't turn out the way I wanted them to.

I am both sad and not sad. Sad that more than 2 years is taken to finally see the inevitability of a disintegration. I'm not sad that it finally dawned on the more courageous one to take the penultimate step towards separation.

I am both surprised and not surprised. Surprised that it had to come during a period of time when nothing registered on the 'danger' radar, that the seas looked calm and winds didn't deliver torrential rain. I am not surprised; we have been living in the eye of the storm for too long, calmly cruising along in the centre of the maelstrom that is a malformed union.

I am both frustrated and not frustrated. Frustrated that my efforts towards keeping the flames alive for the past 2 months were wasted, that it seemed like nothing I did over that period created any impression at all. I am not frustrated with you; the issue had to be dealt with sooner or later - it was just the timing of it all.

I am both resigned and not resigned. Resigned that I'm just not the one right now; resigned to the notion that the attraction isn't there anymore. Not resigned to the fact that someone might be better out there, for no one is a perfect match, ever.

We are friends but not really friends. Friends we were when we first met and friends we return to. But that special moniker known as 'ex' is tagged forever, unless unlikely circumstances alter that hard-to-accept reality.

We forge on - friends.

Of Reading Lists and Postcards from Barcelona

2006-07-26T23:31:00.000+08:00

Given the time out from full-time student life, I've come to appreciate the fact that I can finally read fiction work again. It sounded strange when I first verbalised it to myself: as a student in uni, I consumed fiction voraciously. Textbooks were full of gibberish and the only thing I counted on were notes and scraps of paper.

Then that monster known as work came along. Consulting is not for everyone, and was definitely not for the fiction afficionado. So I compromised: I read less. Still, I could consume enough books to satiate that lust for stories. I read stuff from all over, and it was during this time that I started liking Margaret Atwood's feminist gab and David Mitchell's dreamy sequences.

Along came biz school and this time round, reading anything other than the required cases for class is a travesty. What's more, the profusion of reading material on the net (I speak of blogs, newspapers, whatnots) meant that my whole day is spent in a constant infusion of text into my brain. I just did not have enough bandwidth to consume fiction as well, and it was on a sad note that I stopped reading anything interesting (hey, some business texts are interesting in their own right - just go read Blue Ocean Strategy... but they aren't stories).

So summer without an internship was a kind of blessing in disguise. I've read David Mitchell's Black Swan Green (I like his previous work better), Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in a Time of Cholera (I never thought I would touch that novel, to be honest), and Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore (very weird stuff in this book... very very indecipherable). And due to the dearth of good fiction around the house, I'm actually reading the Da Vinci Code (after having seen the movie).

The Da Vinci Code reads like a person driving a car with both the accelerator and brake pedals depressed: start-stop-start-stop-start-stop-start... the protagonists find some new clue, and then the action stops at a critical juncture, and you ask yourself "Gee I need to know what happens!!!" and so you read on. Until the next critical juncture. Ad nauseam. Very useful device to convince the reader that you have an engaging and interesting book (but seriously though, the book reads like someone throwing his high-school history+art+bible lessons at you, wrapped around a treasure hunt story).

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Someone once said that there were only 2 kinds of stories in the world: "A man goes on a journey" and "A stranger comes into town". Every other story is a variation of the 2 themes, a combination of both, or a sluice of something in between. Try looking for these themes the next time you read a book.

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As promised, here are the photos from Barcelona. While there, I met up with a friend who was learning Spanish there (lucky guy) and he introduced me to some of his classmates, one of whom was Italian. That Italian lass and I sat glued in a pub watching the World Cup finals: I cheered for France; no questions who she cheered for. And for my efforts in cheering the losing team, the Italian lass gave me a lesson on what Italian hooligans sing about (they were everywhere in that pub and sang the lewdest songs!), and of course, goaded over their goddamn undeserved victory.

Anyhow, photos:

Go to Barcelona, if for nothing else, thn to see Gaudi's irreverent artwork

La Pedrera

Parc Guell

And the Sagrada...

...with its interesting doors.

The only place where skateboarding can be done around gothic buildings...

...and demonstrations take place outside the mayor's office regularly.

Art, in whatever forms it assumes, is always being restored. The lady here is painstakingly restoring a letterbox carved during the renaissance for the building formerly used by a lawyer's guild.

Port Vell, where a shopping centre's front arcade features mirrors on the ceiling. Perfect for the narcissist in all of us; and a strain on the neck.

Oh yes, the bridges also tend to break up often. :)

Also, do not miss Las Ramblas for the street performers - to be honest, I find them all a tad too touristy and profit driven. Much preferred the occasional guitarist or opera singer I encountered around parts of the Gothic Quarter (a maze to certainly get yourself lost in).

Due to space constraints, check out the rest of my Barcelona impressions here.

Home and Postcards from Provence and Cote d'Azur

2006-07-24T02:31:00.000+08:00

I'm finally home. I can finally enjoy having uninterrupted Wi-Fi and the peace of mind to slowly upload my photos, sort through my clothes, and work on relationships. This is all the next month is going to be about: relationships.

One of the things you learn from Negotiations Analysis class is the usage of a framework known as the Seven Elements (our instructor, Horacio, absolutely swears by it). One of the elements is Relationship, and it is about considering how you can, and should, build the relationship in any ongoing negotiation that you may have.

Make no mistake about it: destroying the relationship, be it through the careless use of words or inept outbursts of emotion, is detrimental to any negotiation. It is not about being tough and acting tough - negotiations are also primarily about building the bridge between you and your counterpart and working towards a value creating outcome.

Hence, my focus for this summer: relationships. I am already starting by mending the most important one, the one which my future happiness and life depend upon, though the subject of which is somewhat depressing. I never realised how much distance can break a relationship. I never realised that feelings of longing can be so satiated with a simple meeting of hearts. I never realised how much some values meant to other people - too often, I held values with little regard, thinking them hinderances rather than morally upheld principles. I belittled the power of an idea, of a principle.

Next comes the next most important relationships: my parents and my grandmother. My parents have aged before my eyes and I have been blind not to see that ageing process. It is a slow, slow loris that creeps upon you unexpectedly, pouncing on you in the most unexpected way. He is 60, she is 58, and they have reached the point in their lives where the roles have somewhat reversed: he's forced into retirement and whiling his time away; she runs her own business and works insane hours. I'm amazed at the ingenuity my mother has displayed; I'm saddened by my father's spiralling descent from the peak of his success.

My grandmother has few years left, and the dignity to live it has gone from her, for each day is as uncomfortable as the next. Unable to speak properly for the strokes have atrophied the right side of her body. Unable to walk, to eat by herself. Worst of all now, she's unable to control her defecation and urination. I know people who'd rather die than live through a life such as hers - our dignity seems to supercede our quest to live. But she lives on and she has lived well by all accounts. Few years are left to her - she is 90. She wants to go on.

Then perhaps, the relationships that come next: friends. I'm not an initiator. Never has been one to initiate and start something going. I'm the classic tortoise - living in my shell of a house and hoping someone else invites me to the party. Perhaps I want to do something on my own this time. Perhaps I want to reach out, cast my net, and widen that small social circle. Perhaps I want to build stronger friendships.

Perhaps.

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BTW, photos from my trip in Provence and Cote d'Azur below. I hung out with a cool Shanghaiese babe, and an opinionated Beijinger dude. They made the trip really fun (and really tiring as well!).

Old busker playing an accordian. I dropped in 50 cents and asked him not to smile at me.

That disgruntled codger shut his windows on me after spying me taking this picture of him.

She didn't really like me taking candid shots after a while. Such a poseur. :)

Yes, walking among lavender is hazardous to health.

We 3 spent hours searching for the perfect field. We never really found it but this one takes the cake for being the most expansive we found.

My dear friend's 到此游图. He wants one at every significant juncture we reach. :)

Living here = strong calves. Gordes is magnificent.

Pont du Gard - part of an old roman aqueduct that now is a UNESCO world heritage site, and place where tourists dip themselves in the river at low tide.

My attempt at being artistic.

My attempt at being artistic once more.

The changing of the guard at the residence of the Prince of Monaco. The ridiculous affair requires the guards to slap their sides when standing to attention. Several of them were actually portbellied. I fear for the Prince's safety.

See the full set of pictures from Provence and the Cote d'Azur

Dispirited Away

2006-07-13T02:10:00.000+08:00

After 12 days on the road, I've finally found some time to blog, and with the WiFi to allow it as well. There were many memories of the places I've been and the things I've seen, but I don't have the heart to yak about them now. I guess the best thing I can do to describe them is to post them up on my flickr set - go check it out if you're interested (a picture speaks a thousand words - all that stuff I've uploaded will speak volumes if that rule applies).

The spirits have left me. Here now, in the countryside of Hampshire, England, I've become somewhat melancholic and down - little excited by what I'm seeing and, though it has been an experience, I'm starting to get discouraged that what I have been looking forward to for the past 3 months might turn out to be a something I'd rather not face.

There are many times in this short life I've lead where I thought I was doing all the right things, and no one says anything that is contrary to that. Work was one: there was a path which I took and I assumed it was right. Of course, those assumptions were checked with people I know, and often, they might have been assuring, they might have been patronising, but they were never correcting. People are afraid of correcting you, of giving you the bitter pill. Perhaps in some cultures, it is more forthcoming, but in the work culture of mine then, it was given in the wrong dosage, and at the last possible moment.

The mistakes I've made and the lessons I have learnt ought to have carried over into the relationships I make with people. I believed that I am now listening better. But I am still not doing some things right - I am listening, but inaction still grips me.

It is disappointing to learn that there are few second chances, and far fewer third chances in life. It is disappointing to also learn that when one gives, and gives, and gives, there is always something else that fail the expectations that the receiver has of one.

Perhaps it is something inherent and cannot be changed. I don't think that people cannot change, for love, for life, for oneself, for God. I just think that change is difficult - I won't change unless I am made to and I want to. If I don't change, I will die for the lack of it.

Maybe there's nothing I can say further, or nothing I can do to change things now - my inability to change fast enough, quickly enough, has led to the state of affairs now. I don't know - I think I have changed, just in a direction that isn't right. I think that life for the other has changed as well, and new relationships are entered into as the old are thrown away. Better related to, better treated with, and better listened to perhaps.

Am I looking to change things once again?

Do I still hope?

What if God was One of Us?

2006-07-01T06:40:00.000+08:00

As you're aware, this isn't an anime blog, and this post isn't about an anime either. I'm just a regular guy who got into watching anime purely for recreational reasons (at the instigation of Stripey) and to replace an unhealthy diet of TV shows. Come to think of it, I don't watch the telly anymore: the MBA kind of took that luxury away (no way can I stay glued for fixed times on regular days!). So nowadays, I supplement my entertainment with anime - freely available on the internet, and always a click away with bittorrent.

I digress: I've been seeing this really good anime called 'The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya'. To sum it simply, Haruhi Suzumiya is a typical Japanese schoolgirl who also happens to be God. Not like the God of the Judeo-Christian faith, but God in the sense that she is able to wish things into existence, without even realising it. A dangerous friend to have, but that's what the protagonist, Kyon (regular Japanese school boy in her class), is dealing with. It is like having a nuclear weapon as a friend, and certain interested groups of people are concerned that she should be kept as 'entertained' as possible.

Anyhow, I saw the latest episode (#13) of it two days back and a monologue from our heroine in the middle of the episode struck me as apt description of how small we really are.

First off, some context: Haruhi was talking to Kyon. She is not a typical Japanese high-school girl. In the series (which was re-arranged and not showed in sequence intentionally), Haruhi formed the SOS Brigade club with the expressed purpose of finding espers, time travellers and aliens. Unwittingly, she recruited one of each species (and Kyon, the narrator). The SOS Brigade get into the hijinks that can only happen in anime, and the producers puncture the action with philosophical insights into the creation of the universe, time travel and whatnots. Haruhi also has the ability to wish things into existence, and she's suffering from angst and feeling melancholic because life is too ordinary for her: she also doesn't know she has the power of God.

The monologue (translated from Japanese and copied off the subtitles of Ep #13):

Say... Have you ever realized how insignificant your existence is on this planet?

I have. It's something I'll never forget.

During elementary school, when I was in sixth grade, the whole family went to watch a baseball game at the stadium. I wasn't particularly interested in baseball, but I was shocked once we got there.

There were people everywhere I looked. The ones on the other side of the stadium looked like squirming grains of rice all packed together. I wondered if every last person in Japan had gathered in this place.

And so, I asked my dad, 'Exactly how many people were in the stadium?'

His answer was that a sold-out game meant around fifty thousand people. After the game, the path to the stadium was flooded with people. The sight stunned me.

So many people around me, yet they only made up a fraction of the people in Japan. Once I got home, I got a calculator and did the math. We learned that the Japanese population was a hundred million and some in social studies. Divide 50,000 into that and you only get one two-thousandth. I was stunned again.

Not only was I just one little person in that sea of people in that stadium, but that sea of people was merely a drop in the ocean.

I had thought myself to be a special person up until that point. I enjoyed being with my family, and most of all, I thought that my class in my school had the most interesting people in the world.

But that was when I realized it wasn't like that. The things that happened in what I believed to be the most enjoyable class in the world could be found happening in any school in Japan. Everyone in Japan would find them to be ordinary occurrences.

Once I realized this I suddenly found that my surroundings were beginning to lose their colour. Brush my teeth and go to sleep at night. Wake up and eat breakfast in the morning. People do those everywhere.

When I realized that everyone did all these things on a daily basis everything started to feel so boring. And if there were so many people in the world, there had to be someone living an interesting life that wasn't ordinary. I was sure of it.

Why wasn't that person me?

That's all I could think about until I graduated from elementary school. And in the process, I realized something. Nothing fun will happen if you sit around waiting.

So I figured I would change myself in middle school. Let the world know that I wasn't a girl content with sitting around and waiting. And I conducted myself accordingly. But in the end, nothing ever happened.

Before I knew it, I was in high school. I thought something would have changed.

Of course, our dear heroine, being almighty, did change things through sheer willpower alone (without realising it either). What struck me was how the thoughts that she had were probably not unique unto herself, but probably what we all come to feel at crucial points in our lives.

Just how significant can our lives be? Not everyone of us is going to be a superstar, model, or celebrity. Not everyone of us is going to be a world leader, opinion shaper, news maker. Not everyone will die a glorious death, have people worship us, or lead a congregation of believers.

In fact, most of us are going to be nondescript, unheralded individuals, living lives that are ordinary, simple and unadorned. Haruhi is right in one aspect: life is going to be boring and it is up to us to make it as exciting as we want it to be. It doesn't mean we have to be God to do it - it just means making the effort to seek interesting avenues in life - explore the less explored.

Well, we all can learn lessons everywhere, and I've learnt one from an anime.

Travel plans for summer - new and updated

2006-07-01T06:32:00.000+08:00

Yay! P3 is over and that means the summer is here. For the suckers who have got an internship (or rather, indentured slavery IMHO), have fun slogging away at that investment bank, consulting firm and yadda whatever and earn that freaking big salary in the meantime. For slackers like myself, enjoy the sun, sand and sea and we'll see each other in 2 months. (or 4, or never ever depending on how fate plays dice).

Anyhow, travel plans for summer are more or less confirmed. The following is my itinerary:

From today (1 July) till the 5th: Head to the south of France, smell the lavender, drink and eat like mediterranean French do, hit the jackpots of Monaco and come back a millionaire

From the 6th till 10th: Hop over to Barcelona to chill out with a friend there. Make fun of the mimes on Las Ramblas, gape at the Sagrada, watch some beach action, and maybe check out the night clubs.

From 11th till 16th: Visit the queen in London and generally go bankrupt. Stay over at a future i-banker's humble accomodations, call up my friend in Southampton, eat fish and chips, see Big Ben, and generally do the tourist thing until the bank account suffers.

From 17th till the 20th: Parachute into Prague, the most picturesque city in Europe. Meant to be done with a loved one but heck, I'll do some recceing for later. Take pictures and generally soak in the beauty of it all. Eat Czech dosh and then decide that being all alone in an old European city is enough.

21st July: Singapore bound.

So there! If you're ever in any one of those places about during this time, hit me a note or call me.

Summertime - Birds are singing, and the weather is warm...

Postcards from France - wished you were here!

2006-06-26T05:18:00.000+08:00

I usually express myself better using words than in pictures. However, due to circumstances beyond my control (if you considered impulse buying THAT), I bought myself this kick-ass digital SLR that was all the rage two years ago (sobs... its now an old bird).

My trusty Nikon D70 has weathered it all: pelting rain in Lake Inle, dusty sands from the ruins of Bagaan, biting winds up on the Empire State Building of New York, balmy weather and curious stares in Bali, sweaty summertime in France, and other charming parts of Europe.

Now, where was I going with this? Oh yeah: the weekend last, me and my housemate did a little trip up to Reims and Luxembourg. Being tourists while poor students at the same time don't make for a good combination: for one thing, its hard to justify all that expensive food I've been eating. What's more, Reims is champagne country: it sucks when all I had in the beverage arena while at Reims was one glass of champagne. That silly Tattinger shop stopped accepting tasting visits when we got there (Gawd... my housemate was sooooo mad).

Anyway, first up on the itinerary was the Notre Dame in Reims. The Notre Dame in Reims was where the King of France was crowned. If you saw 'Joan of Arc' the movie, there is most likely a scene where Joan attends the coronation of her king in this cathedral (it is grand and probably looked a lot grander in its heyday).

Long hallways, high arches and rose-shaped stained glasses: yup, I'm in a grand French cathedral alright

So that's what I look like!

After enough cathedral gazing (you do that a lot in Europe, alas), we went a perambulating around the little city. Had lunch al fresco in some roadside restaurant that had amazingly good service for a French restaurant (side note: no tipping in this country = expect bad service). Anyhow, our stomachs satisfied (I had champagne from champagne country!), we went to the Palais du Tau - a little museum housing some of the art that has been taken out of the Notre Dame (for one reason or another). There were a lot of tapestries (boring carpets that people hang on walls - easier on the neck I presume) but I was more interested in the sculptures:

This was one of my favourites: it's Adam and Eve. Eve's eating the forbidden fruit and so is the serpent on the tree of knowledge.

Eve and the Serpent, this time rendered with legs.

A gargoyle.

Nice little effects with a reflective surface and some butts.

After Reims, next up was Luxembourg. The drive there wasn't too bad, but Luxembourg was a little tad boring at night. The first thing to do upon hitting the little hotel was to turn on the dingy TV and watch some soccer. It was Italy vs US in a match of send-offs galore. Did a walk about town at night and then caught up on sleep. Somehow, that hotel we booked was near the red light district - it was right next to a strip club - but nothing as exciting as Geylang here (it's boring Luxembourg, eh?). Morning came and this time, we went to see the town proper:

Some cheerleader performance in the middle of the day.

Pity about this photo: I couldn't get the sky to be any bluer because it was done near noon. The sun just washes out the colours there.

I have this thing about taking reflections of buildings off of spanking shining cars. Incidentally, Luxembourg has the highest GDP per capita in the world - it shows: everyone here drives an expensive car.

I thought it apt to point out that the cute statue couple under the umbrella seemed to be having a much better time than the old couple on the bench. Maybe that's what marriage does to you?

This was my favourite picture from the trip - it's the opera house of Luxembourg, and its interior was designed to give it a web-like effect during the day. Nice...

To see more from this set (and others), check out my flickr pics.

For the Sake of It

2006-06-23T02:36:00.000+08:00

Ahhh... It feels so good.

Alcohol always does. It numbs you, makes you feel woozy and then delivers that little punch to your gut. A little something to warm you while you think about how good life is just because there's alcohol in it.

Ahhh... Life feels good.

How come I feel like blogging some random nonsense whenever I had some alcohol? Hmm. Doesn't matter. It's going to turn out to be one of those random posts anyhow. I think I promised some pictures for this post. Nevermind... wait for the next one.

Ahhh... Gut feels warm and nice.

In case you're wondering, I had some sake (SAR-kay). It was Japanese Day (they weren't gung-ho enough to do a Week) and there was free flow of sake. Too bad the Kirin beer ran out. Sipping sake while watching guys wrestle in sumo suits is really fun. Sipping sake while surrounded by buzzing insects isn't (sign of summer: buzzing insects).

Ahhh... hey, what am I doing in the library then?

Cold hard reality hit me: the exams are next week and I have not done much studying. Sighs... and there are the assignments as well. Still have 3 papers to submit and I'm not fully done with them. Life sucks. Sake isn't helping me to do my assignments.

Back to work.

Ahhh... back to work.

Travel Plans for Summer

2006-06-19T04:30:00.000+08:00

Hi y'all,

For all the friends out there who actually read this and keep asking about it, I'm still in the process of finalising my summer plans. Should be home in sunny Singapore come end July, hopefully around the 22nd, and throughout most of August up until term starts again on the 25th (I think?). After that, I'll head back to France in the fall for another 2 months from September to October and be back in Singapore again.

I'm lacking some face time with the folks and GF and will need time out to just be a Singaporean again. It is tiring here, largely because I felt like I'm on some big holiday and almost every weekend had been spent travelling (and burning cash). For the period after summer (P4), I'm going to be doing less of that, and more of getting to the serious business of finding a post-INSEAD job and actually doing my readings. I'm hoping to regain some of that enthusiasm I had in the earlier periods and putting them into where it matters (the courses in P4 actually look a whole lot more interesting!).

Like I said in an earlier post, the 'experiencing life' thing is good for me, but it should be secondary. I need to get back to the important business of actually doing my future - life isn't always about the present, isn't it?

Will be posting some photos in the next entry - road trips are such fun! (Disclaimer: it depends on the company and length of trip though). On a side note, I checked the odometer earlier and found that my housemate and I (we share the Renault Clio) have collectively done 6000km of asphalt (and some clay and mud) in a matter of 6 weeks. Now I know why I have thicker calves muscles on my right leg...

Be back in Singy soon - do write me a note and we'll catch up yah? Out...

Looking for Similarities

2006-06-15T06:19:00.000+08:00

If you keep looking for differences, then that is all you see.
If you keep finding similarities, then that is all that matters.
Relationships are such: when you want it, you do anything to justify why.

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

1. Background: We share the same race, the same religion, the same culture, the same country. Everything that I can say or do relates with a little slice of history which you can relate to. You know me well partly because we have similar roots, and although you may wonder if there are other similarities you can build with people out there, I am always the one who will know you and where you come from.

2. The Future: We are aligned. There is a path heading forward and you know as well as I do that we are walking along it together. No matter if I can show you a map of the way; no matter if we take a couple of twists and turns round the scenic route. What matters is that I've aligned myself with your goals, and yours with mine. Perhaps I've never spelt them out clearly - that is where I need to address myself to you.

3. Our Present: Apart and away from home - we both are. Little to keep us rooted at home when neither of us is there to anchor the relationship. We've both left our friends and family behind to pursue our dreams - yours differ from mine but at least we're clear why we needed to do that. Don't fret: being apart is never being far away from each other. I'm as ever present in your life as you are in mine.

4. Saying nothing at all: We share this trait. We don't say much - we conserve words. There's more that is conveyed in a simple gesture, or touch. You can even tell from the way that I keep silent in an instant message window and read me correctly (eerie, but that's what you've become to me). More than ever, I need to convey what I feel for you - and you know words fail me (as they do fail you too) when this becomes necessary.

5. We are jealous people and we guard what we own. Possession is absolute and sharing is out of the question when it comes to the most precious. It's not a good trait, but that's what we're like with each other.

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

This post is done for you, my dear. We may have our differences, but it is our similarities that hold me to you - I hope it does so for you as well.

Shouldering the Blame

2006-06-12T07:46:00.000+08:00

One reason why I like to wear short sleeved shirts with collars as opposed to t-shirts (round necks, Vs) is that it covers up the left side of my neck where it meets the shoulder.

On that particular spot, I have a mole, slight and roundish. It's quite inconspicuous, though clearly visible if you look closely. Nope, no hair sprouting from it (that would be gross) but it does tend to stick out whenever I scratch my neck there.

My mum used to look at the mole when I was younger and said that I will grow up to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders. She said it in Chinese, and I think that whatever it meant, it held deep resonance for how some events have turned out for me. The mole was an omen that I will shoulder responsibility beyond that which I can bear. It meant that I was to be weighed down, and never free.

Perhaps what she said stayed stuck in my head: I do feel as though I have the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Sometimes, I feel weary, like there are too many things that cause me worry. No matter how far I fly away from it all, my responsibility has a way of worming its way to me.

My shoulder aches from the weight I have to bear. My shoulders ache from the hurts I cause myself - I feel that I am just too nice a guy to let go and let be. I feel that perhaps, somehow, someway, someone will recognise the pain felt, or stinging pain of a careless word spoken.

Every word is loaded, and sensitivities get trampled upon. Perhaps letting go sounds easy to do, but what of it? One doesn't escape his destiny - a mark of one's indenture etched on the skin.

Been there, done that

2006-06-08T01:17:00.000+08:00

The need to try everything, to try experience every conceivable activity, is inherent in all of us. I believe it stems from the human need to want things. Economic theory teaches us that human demands are unlimited, but supply is constrained (i.e. limited). So, a balance is achieved between what we want, and what we can obtain, and demand equals supply.

But I'm not one to talk about economics. What I'm speaking of is the inherent human need to want. What I'm speaking about is the inherent human need to experience.

Perhaps I'm just not getting it: why do we justify the things we do by saying that "it's something I've never experienced before, so I should try it"? We want to try new things out, and the only reason that is worth justifying it is this: 'I've never tried it before, so here I go'.

And that is the basis for all the actions I'm about to list out below:
1. Having sex
2. Smoking pot
3. Drinking alcohol
4. Getting drunk
5. Travelling to obscure parts of this big big world
6. Eating exotic food
7. Participating in extreme sports
8. Going diving (very popular, this one)
9. Doing an MBA (??)
:
:
The list goes on and on.

I don't get it: why do we want to do new things so much? I can understand if you've never eaten Chinese food before, and you would like to try it. But I don't get it if you've never smoked pot and you want to try it. First of all, it's not healthy. Second, you get real stoned - maybe you get more creative, maybe you get more numbed from the experience. And then the result is that you did not enjoy the experience (it wasn't that pleasant huh?), but you justify it by saying, 'I've tried it'. So the point of the experience was to have something akin to boasting rights, something like a little badge to pin on your shoulder, something akin to another table conversation topic.

I don't get it: why are we willing to fork out good money to experience new things? Perhaps you're genuinely interested in seeing what the underwater world is like. Perhaps you are looking for an exciting new way to exercise. Diving does introduce you to a whole new world, a whole new experience. But it costs you. Nonetheless, you have to go for it. Why? Because it is an exciting experience. Because diving gives you a new high, it gives you great pictures to show off to other people. Then you can go exclaiming about that wonderful underwater world that you discovered, the beautiful coral fish, and that shark you saw swimming by. What of it?

Conversation fillers I think. We're all looking for things to say about our lives, and the more we can pepper our conversations with such experiences, the more we appear to be interesting people.

Pathetic aren't we all?

In case you get me wrong on that count, I'm not saying one should never try smoking pot or diving. I'm just against the idea of doing something for the sake of experiencing it - I think that things should be done for the reason that you are GENUINELY interested in them.

Like salsa. Do salsa because you like dancing. Do salsa because it is a great way to meet people. DON'T do salsa because you want to experience it. Don't do it because you've never tried it before, and therefore you want to try it to 'see how'.

Why am I so strongly against that? Because I think that the typical human being, who tries his hand at something for the experience, is doing it for the wrong reason. The wrong reason is to try an experience to gain an 'experience'. The right reason is to do it because you have a genuine passion for it.

Perhaps you need to try it first to gain a passion for it. I don't doubt that, but don't tell me nonsense about how something like 'doing an MBA' is just for the experience. It's good money spent on just an experience, and without the passion and drive for it, you're just not going to love it.

Love what you do, and love what you experience. I'm being preachy here because I'm kind of high (shit, that's what this Brazillian drink called Capirinha does to you). I just don't think that the 'experience' justifies it anymore. I don't think that having 'been there' and 'done that' is enough of an accolade, and people realise soon enough the phony that you are: it comes out in what you say when you aren't truly passionate for something.

So go: love what you do, do what you love.

Lines in the Sand

2006-06-02T06:10:00.000+08:00

Sometime during the last couple of months, it dawned on me that the number of friends who know about this blog has grown.

Here's how I analyse this:

1. There is a universe out there called the 'Friendspace', which are the people I know and can reasonably call my friend or acquaintance. Acquaintances are also in the Friendspace, but are not accorded status 'Friend', though statuses are never a permanent kind of thing.

2. This is a blog I write and which I update as often as I so wish. Usually, I write whenever I have something to get off my chest. At other times, I wrote because I thought I have something clever to say. There were also times when I wrote nonsense just to satisfy that notion that someday I will be a writer of note.

3. When this blog first started, Friendspace and blog don't intersect. Well, they aren't quite in the same frame of the universe, so to speak, but you know what I mean: friends generally do not know of my blog.

4. Gradually though, I started to let some friends know. It's a funny game that bloggers (like me) play: they aren't blogging for the fame (initially). Sometimes, it's because I learnt about a friend's blog, and decided to reciprocate. Sometimes, I left obvious links which allowed people to figure out my identity. Sometimes, I told people outright that I blog. Sometimes, I just get found out by the occasional stumbler from the net.

5. Generally though, Friendspace and blog existed peacefully, but there were times when certain things were blogged about certain friends, and that fragile peace in Friendspace land gets threatened.

6. Thus, with that last thought in mind, I find it so much harder to be truthful with my own blog. Like, there're things I want to talk about, but out of sensitivity and grace, I leave it out entirely. Maybe that explains why really good soulful blogs descend into nonsensical mush - I think some bloggers end up blogging to please. They're playing to the peanut gallery, canvassing for applause wherever they can.

7. So I'm not sure for now how to proceed. I'll still blog, and I think I'll still blog what I want to blog about. This blog is not therapy, it certainly isn't a mundane recount of my daily existence, it isn't really an MBA blog either (I don't say much, really, about school), and it certainly isn't popular enough to be a source of entertainment (I'm no camera whore!).

8. Until I get real serious kickbacks from this blog, I am going to largely IGNORE the fact that there are people I know reading it. Until I experience severe aftershocks in Friendspace, I shall CONTINUE to write in as irresponsible a way as I feel I should, and nothing anyone can say will make me change my opinions.

9. In other words, if you don't see eye to eye with me on my ramblings, I truly don't give a... hehe... fuck.

10. Need I say more?

Disclaimer: Friendspace isn't Girlfriendspace unfortunately, so some things are, still, very much out of bounds. Cheers to privacy!

A Ball of a Time

2006-05-30T05:17:00.000+08:00

Balls: you have them or you don't. (in which case, you're female, a wuss, or something in between. Eek.)

INSEAD Balls: You have two of them. Actually, two of two of them, which makes four. But never at the same place at the same time. You have two balls in summer, and two balls in winter. It's funny though: having Summer and Winter Balls in Singapore makes a huge mockery of the tropicality of the locale.

So, there are 2. (I sound like some jedi in the dumb prequels already).

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

My impressions of Summer Ball (the Fontainebleau edition held at Courances):

Food ran out. Food came back again. Food ran out again.

Eating sushi off napkins. No plates and cutlery. Long queues for bite-sized morsels which don't taste good anyhow.

Food ran out.

Champagne drinking... Champagne ran out. Nevermind, switch to some other alcohol.

Oh yes, wonderful chateau. Huge big house with cobblestone paths that were made for horse carriages but not leather soles and pointy heels. Painful walks: should have just stepped on the grass. But hell, great house.

Food came. Food ran out again.

Two tents, two themes (notice how its always two). Picture scenes of people dancing to all kinds of music, no particular genre (no point, people too drunk). Picture also, if you will, some of the alumni, in their 40s and 50s shaking their booty to Staying Alive (shudder). Go for more champagne.

Champagne ran out.

Fireworks! Highlight for the evening; smell of gunpowder in the air. Pop, crackle, sizzle.

Back for more alcohol. Holding onto the glass for dear life in case they ran out as well (which they did... several times).

Danced like a feverish monkey in a macabre carnival of the animals.

Danced like a fiddler on a hot tin roof wearing only 3 socks. (hehe...)

Sitting in the rain, wondering what the hell's going on.

Talked. Talked. Talked. Hazy conversations and lazy monologues.

Had more alcohol. Ran out again.

Danced like a caged bird with cruel boys poking little sticks at it.

Turned around: where did everyone go?

Had enough. Headed to the car. Slept.

The end.

We Call it the B-school Curse... or is it Blessing?

2006-05-22T05:00:00.000+08:00

Boon or bane, you decide. Long rambling post ahead btw.

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

As I recall from my pre-INSEAD days, B-school appeared to be a glamorous thing to do. It is one-year (this being INSEAD) away from all the cares of the world, and you choose how much you want to put into your course. My much-simplified view of the B-school world went along 3 dimensions: academic, career and social. I pretty much counted on the administration to work on the first 2 aspects; what threw me off about INSEAD was the social bit of it.

INSEAD is one year away from the life you once knew, and from a social point of view, that means that your whole social life is somewhat redefined when you come in (unless of course you're a local). You meet interesting people, go for parties and soak yourself in the social scene. You make new friends, and in the process discover that things might go a little further than "we're just friends".

Things get redefined a lot at B-school, including your relationships. For what I have to say, I only have my INSEAD experiences to speak from but I think it suffices: I want to talk about the relationships we build and tear down while in B-school.

I think what works best for pre-school relationships (btw, I'm referring to an existing relationship one may be in at the point one enters B-school; NOT kindergarten childhood sweethearts), assuming you're intent on keeping it going, is to have the partner immersed in the experience. Have her interact with other partners and socialise with the same people you do. This means that there are no secrets between the two of you: what you see is what you get. It doesn't hurt to be an insider; it can hurt if your partner stays out.

You might think that it's safe if you're already married and leaving your spouse behind. I think that probably only works if you're newly-weds. You're likely to meet so many people here that the 'What-if' questions come to mind often enough to destroy any notion that your relationship is rock solid. In the course of the last 5 months, we've seen a couple of affairs leading to divorce / separation.

Even if you aren't hooking up with someone new, you might just break up an existing relationship. There are many reasons for this but the most common theme seems to be: 'I come to B-school and discovered that I'm not who I thought I was, and I also think now that I don't really know you that well, nor myself that well either, so maybe it is better that we don't see each other anymore'.

So is it all bad news on the relationship front? Not really: B-school is a great place to meet smart, bright people who love to party (INSEAD attracts that breed well). Parties are great opportunites to meet, greet and do the deed. So what's better than doing all that with smart, bright people who are going through the same shit that you are?

My half-baked theory on building relationships is that they are built on that raw material known as common shared experiences. My less well baked theory on destroying relationships is that not having common shared experiences is certain to spell its doom. Somewhere in between these two notions is where most of our relationships probably sit. INSEAD, being such an immersive social experience, means that you do a lot of the 'common shared experience' thing with your fellow classmates.

What all this means is that: 1, you're likely to make a lot of new friends fast in B-school, and if you're single, it'll appear like there are many opportunities to play hook up; 2, your existing relationship is likely to be strained unless your partner comes along for the ride; and 3, don't have expectations that your life and world view is going to be same after all that.

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In other news, I'm 'outed' again but it's pleasant to actually know some INSEADers have actually read this blog. :) Thanks for dropping in!

What's a tag?

2006-05-20T02:02:00.000+08:00

I've been tagged by Ajaxus who has enigmatically noticed that I have started on a list of sorts and ended at 4 items (I intended for it to be 5, but came short). That smart guy decided that he should curse me with this silly tagging game, and here: my 'FOURs'.

BTW I don't bother being politically correct or even polite, so if you're a close friend, I would say it's better not to be reading this.

4 Guilty Pleasures
1. Watching anime (it's about the impossible bodies and huge eyes...)

2. Eating French Fries (and getting fat)

3. Surfing the net and reading gossip on blogs

4. Wanking?

4 Things You Never Want to Forget
See my previous post

4 Things I Wish to Forget
1. There are cruel women in this world, and I'll never forget the naive me, years ago, happily meeting the so called intended other on a date. Having been rejected many times over, and having lived through hurts many times over, I never learnt the lesson of letting go. So what does a cruel woman make one let go? By doing the most merciful thing she could have done to the naive me, saying the things which hurt the most. An 'Admission'. Looking back now, I don't suppose premarital sex was that big an issue; it certainly isn't for me now. But what hurt most was that this woman knew me well - she knew which buttons to push, and sadly, it meant for me the death of a soulmate. (Ed note: perhaps I should expand on this one abit more - what I've said here doesn't quite capture everything; the outpouring is therapy... of sorts)

2. Shitting in my pants as a kid in primary school. I'm NOT even going to talk about it.

3. The knowledge that my parents came close to having a divorce, and the reasons why.

4. Breaking up

Really Exotic Food I've Tried
I'm not that adventurous with my food... the one thing I can remember eating that probably few people have tried is kangaroo meat (even this sounds tame...)

4 Crushes
Woe be it that I reveal my crushes...

1. When I was 16, a certain sweet girl in school who shared my surname and little else.

2. When I was 18, a certain sweet girl who played chess with me, and purposely lost so that I felt good.

3. When I was 21, a certain sweet girl who taught me that love is fleeting and short, while memories never die.

4. When I was 24, a certain sweet girl showed me what it was to see a girl cry (and thus my older brother instincts were born)

Strangest Dream
I don't remember dreams - it is sad but my dreams are but hazy memories in the morning. At best, I recall little bites here and there, but I've never been able to recreate them again. Pity.

4 Favourite Superheroes

1. Though Neil Gaiman will strongly disagree with the categorisation, the one that tops the list is the Sandman.

2. Batman - I like tortured superheroes who aren't really that super (face it, he doesn't have mutant powers, just really nifty toys)

3. Can't think of any others... can I pick villians instead?

4 People on my Hate List
I don't hate people - I may dislike people or have a severe disincline to share the same space as some other people, but I never hate people.

I hate myself sometimes though, but I've gone past the stage where I think of myself as another person.

Close Brushes with Danger
Its when I was driving and it happened 2 days ago at a traffic light near INSEAD in Fontainebleau. No further details - I had the right of way btw.

Modes of Suicide
Death from an overdose of life

There Ajaxus, i'm all done. No curses on anyone this time.

Ask me again in the morning

2006-05-15T06:19:00.000+08:00

So I said.

The question? "What did you say you regretted?"

I shouldn't be telling you perhaps, so my answer in the morning is going to be something else. It doesn't make sense for you to know, and it doesn't help me any to say it. And since you aren't reading this shite anyhow, it doesn't make any difference to say so now.

I regretted laying myself bare to you, like an apple without its skin, protectionless against the biting invasiveness of oxidization (I'm lyrical about primary school biological tidbits, can't help it).

I regretted the long talks, the sit-downs and the conversations. What good any of it did for me I do not know. What good is anything at all which we shared? Like dust in the wind - uttered and forgotten. I don't forget - retention is my biggest problem - and that means you'll be a part of my life forever (I know I'll never take up the same brain space though).

I regretted hearing what I had to hear from you, not that it was painful to the ears, but that it made me see the multifaceted you. I'd much rather prefer my singular version of you, that simple notion of you. The you I'd rather keep in my mind takes little space: I'd probably describe you in 3 sentences. Now, I've a plethora of descriptions and plenty of images, and the multifacted you sits taking up precious space. I hate it because I know what I know of you is very close to the real you. I regret it because it complicates everything and I hate complications such as this because I won't forget.

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Some of what I never forgot:

1. A heartbreak in 2003. Pivotal moment perhaps, and it meant that life changed. Some people will tell you there are certain points in life where you come to a fork in the road and went down one path or the other, thinking that things might have been different down the other way. This was one of those moments where I realised that the 5 years prior to that had been something akin to a series of choices down the wrong side of the fork. This was one of those moments where I would have continued down the wrong side if not for that nail-in-the-coffin heartbreak. A call to say: no more forks, you've reached the dead end.

And what happens at the dead end? Bang your head on the wall and let the physical pain obliterate the senseless wrenching of your heart. Gawd that hurt...

2. A conversation in 2005. Whys. Why nots. Politics. Goals. Religion. Life. Past. Present. Future. Kids. Marriage. Girlfriend. Career. Studies. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Food. Boss. Friend? The importance of being earnest. Network, network, network. In one ear. Out another. Black box. Feelings. Prayer. Farewell.

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Never a question I asked right. Never an answer I got in return.

3. Crying in 2000. I thought that there was a death, a passing. I thought I don't have a chance to say goodbye, not that I've ever said anything meaningful before to you. I thought that you will never get sick the way you did - I never thought that, instead of dying, that you will die slowly instead, each day at a time. I thought that all you wanted to was to live more, but you wasted instead, little by little, letting life slip away.

I know that the worst thing was losing your dignity, your once proud bearing and unflagging criticism of your children. I know this well for I live with one of them, he who bears your legacy so proudly that if and when you do leave, you leave us with a part of yourself more than ever. Unsuspectingly, he will be like you, and you will be here.

4. A kiss in 2004. Tentative. Reserved and almost shy. Yet, somehow, there was a hint of a dare. A challenge - kiss me, you know you want to. Approached slowly, like it was the hardest thing to do in the world. When it changes everything in a relationship, you want to be safe rather than sorry. Perhaps what marked the event was the place. Perhaps what marked the place was the time. And unlike life and its set of choices, there was nothing loaded about this one.

So I plunged right in.

From France with Love

2006-05-13T13:41:00.000+08:00

I sit at the laptop typing this under severely stressed conditions:

1. I've not gotten enough sleep. It's 7am-ish and I slept at 3am-ish. Why? Coz I was at a party at this house that everyone here in the Fonty campus calls Shangri-la. If you've seen it, it's more like Shag-lah.

2. What's Fonty? Oh. It's short for Fontainebleau. I've switched campuses - gone over to the French side to 'experience' the life here and to meet the folks here and my, they really are a rather different crowd. The people party in a house or chateau instead of at a club. It also feels kind of grungy and DIY, but I'm not complaining about the drinks.

3. Yes, the drinks. So I drank a bit. There was some powerful stuff in a small cup, some bottle that I swigged from (hmm.... it tasted sweet), I distinctly recalled Smirnoff Ice, and various liquids of indeterminate quantity. So the problem was that halfway between being high and getting drunk, I realised that I was designated driver...

4. By which time, the folks I was supposed to drive home had pretty much abandoned me at Shangri-La. Hey, it's 2am and waaaaaay past our bedtime, so they say. Ptui!!! So anyway, I finally decided to head home, and this girl who copped a ride off me decided to cop a ride with someone else (Pissed... tell me lah! I was waiting for you like an idiot... Curses upon you and I hope you had bad sex with him!). Still, I had to send someone home...

5. Right, when you think about it, you're driving through the forests of Fontainebleau (Shangri-La is in a quaint little town called Forges which meant miles of driving through the forests), high, with someone's life in your hands (in the passenger seat actually) and she's still sober and begging for you to slow down (I was doing 90kmh most of the way and that usually means slow-coach here). How on earth did I make it home???

6. And now? Still pissed, still sloshed and I have to drive again to... guess what? Go wine-tasting somewhere south (where I've never been).

Life's a big adventure eh? Let's hope it doesn't kill.

I Scream!

2006-04-27T17:42:00.000+08:00

As if we haven't had our fill of ice-cream, guess what we were plied with today for our Marketing exam? That's right. Yet another ice-cream case.

Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. It all started with a little Russian ice cream company...

Back in mid march when the second period at INSEAD was kicking into high gear, our Strategy professor (a certain Argentinian of much pomp and gesture) decided that the best way to "learn strategy" was to have us analyse the Russian ice cream market and do a strategic proposal for Ice-Fili (its an actual Russian ice cream manufacturer).

Well what did we learn from all that? Besides the obviously useless knowledge of how ice cream was manufactured, there was a Porter's 5 Forces analysis of the industry, a market sizing (you're supposed to do one for the present case and a forecast for the future), a value-chain analysis which revealed that distribution was the key problem for Ice-Fili. Furthermore, there was the ubiquitous Willingness-to-Pay (WTP) vs. Cost Advantage analysis, plus a detailed analysis of Ice-Fili's competitive advantage over its rivals.

Oh and it wasn't just a case of delivering the report and being done with it. It wasn't that easy - the Argentinian of dubious distinction decided that we also have to critique each other's reports. And the critiques must come with a sincere and frank analysis of why their analysis works / doesn't work and where it is lacking. Wow - in addition to having piles of assignments from Finance, Marketing, Process Operations Management, Managerial Accounting and OB, our Strategy professor wants us to READ the nonsense we produced, and DO his job for him.

How fun.

So we did. Sometime in early April. Then what?

So the Argentinian Aardvark (at this point, I'm not even certain he's Argentinian. Maybe he's Spanish but who cares? Let's assume he's Argentinian. On a side note, "Argentinian is a damn hard word to type. Damn that Argentinian) tells us that what we've produced was of 'tremendous quality', and we should 'leverage on the incredible learning opportunity', and that we had 'collectively learnt an enormous deal'. And so on with the bombast.

Then what?

Then the Argentinian (ah... I discovered copy-paste!) with his Hand of God decides that our strategy exam is going to be based on... you guessed it!... the Russian ice cream market, with particular emphasis on that hated 2 syllables: ICE-FILI!

By this time, we were going to riot. The worst was that he had the cheek to say that what we had produced in our reports was IT. Like in, 'go read your COLLECTIVE WISDOM and DISTIL IT into your exam answer'. Like hell that is helping anyone because nobody had any idea which report was good, and which was bad in the first place.

Ah well... Some changes took place and we now have a saner strategy examination - but it was still about Ice-Fili, like anyone really cared anymore. Everyone was sick of Ice-Fili, Russian ice cream and anything remotely related to ice-cream.

Oh, until today. Our marketing professor decided to join in on the act and gave us an exam case on - you guessed it! - ice cream!

But heck, I found it fun though. How do you segment the ice cream market in the UK? How do you position Delice as the ice cream sandwich of choice? What is the advertising strategy you'll employ?

I wrote and I wrote till my wrists hurt. And none the worse after coz I think this exam was a breeze. And what's there to do to celebrate the end of it?

I headed to the bar and ordered some ice cream. Yeah.....

Little White Lies

2006-04-15T13:24:00.000+08:00

A Little White Lie (LWL) is the seed of the big black mistake.

One coats the LWL like the little bit of flourish it is; it's akin to seasoning. No harm done - people put MSG into food so that it tastes better. That's what the LWL does - it makes difficult messages palatable to its consumer. And that is a good thing is it not? Without the LWL, nobody can take a hard message, or a particularly incriminating one.

The LWL looks deceptively like an innocent little thing. Seriously, what can one expect the LWL to become? Does it grow? Does it germinate and grow mouldy? Does it spread like a wild virus, spawning baby LWLs and infect ideas like birdflu? Perhaps the LWL just remains that: something little, small, innocently benign.

But I think that, if anything at all, the LWL is dangerous not because of its inherent size - it can't really do much harm if ever uttered or spoken in its own form. It is dangerous for being a precedent. It is dangerous because it holds potential. It is a seed - with the right soil condition and a little water, that seed can become a solid tree. And though a seed may be easy to miss, when it becomes that tree, it is just waiting for an axe to cut it down.

Learn from your mistake: don't speak of the LWL ever, even in public forum such as this. See, the LWL does not serve any good cause being spoken of aloud. It is spent the moment it is created, but giving it life in a little sphere known as the internet is inviting trouble of all sorts.

I do not feel as if I need to give the LWL further life. Let it rest, let it die. For there shall be no tree, and there shall be no further mistakes of such a nature.

A Call Option of Sorts

2006-04-07T00:50:00.000+08:00

I am supposed to be sleeping. Hell Week is, in a sense, over. The worst has passed and there is only the weekend to look forward to. What was supposed to be a dinner-movie-clubbing thing tomorrow turned out to have to exclude its only male participant - moi. In any case, I wouldn't have fitted in with 10 other ladies (much to their disappointment, so I believed).

So... I'm supposed to be sleeping. See, it's like a call option (and here I launch into the "What I learnt in Biz school mode"). A call option, in its most basic form and which I can express in words, is an option which when you buy, and which when exercised gives you a share of a particular stock at a fixed price. The price is predetermined as is its maturity date. An American option allows you to exercise the share before the maturity date, while a European option restricts you to exercising it only on the maturity date.

This is what happened: I bought a couple of call options known as sleep. When I so choose to exercise them, I am supposed to get sleep. However, I decided that I might need to keep awake later today (so as to read my Corporate Finance Policy M&M bull) that I hedged my bet by drinking two cups of coffee. One at the bar (the free kind) and one while lounging at TCC with a groupmate.

What happened with hedging such was that I am now kept perpetually awake by the coffee (quite akin to somebody holding onto plummeting stock which they are using to hedge against their call option). However, I haven't been able to exercise my option to sleep - the coffee is keeping me awake.

All that shouldn't be making any sense to you nor any student of Finance - ask me again in the morning.

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I also figured that, since I'm almost done torrenting Mai Otome episode 25, I might as well just keep awake a while longer, wait it out, and watch it.

See, the thing about me and anime is that I blame my friend Stripey for making anime such an allure. I'm into the philosophical - harem - yuri - kawaii - techy - mecha - humor - you-name-it-they-got-it shit and anime provides the right mix of everything to make another fan out of me. I'm of the opinion that animation in the States seem targeted at only 2 markets: the male kid so that he will buy the action figure (works for girls too - anyone recall My Little Pony?); the adult who's into somewhat adult humour (I used to like South Park and The Simpsons). The japs seem to view that divide as a spectrum, and fill the market with products that straddle the entire range - look hard enough and you can find anime of any stroke and niche to meet your particular fetish.

Of course the somewhat significant one doesn't know (at least not till recently) that anime is becoming a hobby of sorts. She hasn't made any fuss of it, so long as I'm still the addicted to her I suppose. At least I'm not into collecting figurines in super short skirts, so I'm far from descending into otakudom.

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Damn... that download isn't done yet.

See, I have this friend (don't we all?). He is somewhat attracted to this girl who he's hanging with a little too much. The thing is that they are colleagues and they click really well. He's into girls with spunk like her - she's into males of a particular fair colour though.

The problem is they both have their others. And thus he pretends that he's her best pal and all, just so that he can hang around with her. Well, he's not really pretending per se - he's really the pal-ly kinda guy. She seems to wanna hang out a lot too - it's not really a problem isn't it? They're just pals hanging out, nothing beyond walking that plateau, shooting breeze and talking about the weather (and other more savoury topics).

Maybe it isn't a problem - girls like certain kind of guys because they exude that kind of brother-vibe. You know: they think you're the kind of guy who'll make a great Brudder. Not like in a pesky little kid sibling who pisses on your toys and plays doctor with you. I mean the kind of Brudder who offers a listening ear, an open mind, and passes no judgement. The safe kind of guy who's cool about the gals around him and offers emotional support. The Brudder doesn't get the gal - the Jerko does and that sucks doesn't it? (Say, was that all in the present tense?)

Perhaps it helps that the others are in the land of far, far away. Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder (to someone else??). In my friend's case, absence meant options - options meant opportunity, so why not explore some options then? Live life with no regrets, so they say. What's to lose? And if the options don't work out, there's the fallback plan isn't there?

He's a confused one, that friend. I think he should look for the tangible, and stop asking himself the 'What ifs'. Life isn't about what it can become if you'd done this or that. Life is about having walked the road and asking where to go next. The counter retort to the 'What If' is 'What If it is not'. Answer that question first, my friend.

[Maybe I should start charging for useless emotional advice by the hour... hmm.]

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The download's done! Me - out.

A Case of a case of cases

2006-04-05T01:32:00.000+08:00

I haven't had the time to update this blog recently, even though there suddenly appears to be more readers (thanks for dropping by guys!).

In any case, my excuse is that I'm officially in the Hell Week at INSEAD. This week, there're about 6 (or so) assignments due, some big, some small. The biggies have taken up so much time: group discussions take up the bulk of it. I guess the real deal is that group discussions are a function of how well the group works together. For a group that tends to bicker and disagree (i.e. my group) it takes a really long time to get things done.

But a caveat though: that doesn't mean we don't do a good job. The additional time spent usually resulted in well-crafted reports. But well-crafted reports don't often mean the most productivity (the hours spent bickering over the minutest points just rankles me!).

In any case, this period is markedly different from the previous one in terms of the cases: almost every lecture is structured around a case study.

Case studies for dummies

Case studies are the real (or disguised) life examples which typically encompass a business lesson within. The usual structure is a story, some history of the company, miscellaneous blah blah about the personalities in the case (if any), a little too much information about the competition, the problem, and maybe some questions to guide your thought process (if the author is kind). There're also the exhibits attached at the end, which usually is a sign to look out for numbers to do some crunching with.

The thing about cases in P2 as opposed to P1: they're longer. Waaaaaaaay longer. Like 15-20 pages as opposed to the wafer thin 3-4 page lightweight.

So what does this mean in a period already chockful of activity?

Less sleep, little time for anything else. At the end of it all, I have only a case full of cases to show for it, and bleary eyes. No wonder the coffee in INSEAD is free: you'll NEED it.

Yawn.