Non Compos Mentis

Ryan O'Connell's The Kinds of People You Can Date

2011-04-02T22:30:00.004+08:00

The Kinds of People You Can Date
By Ryan O'Connell
Published on Thought Catalog, 24 January 2011

You can date someone in the summertime when it's too hot to have rules. This person might not make sense in February when you're wearing thick coats and eating too much, but he/she will fit in nicely at a Fourth of July barbecue or a pool party. Your bodies will stick together in the heat and sometimes having sex will be the grossest activity you can think of, but you'll do it anyway. You'll understand what it means to be in a "summer mood", how you can spend three months taking a break from your real life to make out, wear provocative clothing and drink too many margaritas. Your skin will be sun kissed, sand will stick between your toes and you'll feel kind of sexy. When you start wearing cardigans and throwing yourself back into your work, your summer lover will fade away and the romance will live on as some kind of lost weekend at the beach. That's okay though. Those who can love you in the summer have a difficult time doing so any other time.

You can date someone who loves you more than you love him/her. He/she will look at you with complete adoration and hang his/her in a droopy way that strikes you as charming. You'll be more goal-driven, more structured and he/she will teach you how to let go and feel worshipped. The inequity in love will be immediately apparent, but you'll convince yourself that you're just falling in love with him/her very, very slowly. After a certain amount of time, you’ll realize it won't be possible and this swirl of guilt, anger and sadness will develop inside of you. You'll look at his/her smitten face and want to spit in it. You'll act ugly and hate yourself for not knowing how to love him/her back. There are certain people who are meant to have their hearts broken and there are certain people who are meant to break hearts. You're not sure which is worse.

You can date someone who will treat you like shit. He/she will be a Scorpio or a sociopath and have an intoxicating energy that will suck you in. After a few months, you'll have completely lost yourself, making excuses for his/her awful behavior and telling your friends, "You just don't know him/her like I do." Even though you know it's bullshit and hate yourself, those rare moments of tenderness will keep you involved and make it feel worth it. Hopefully, you'll hit a wall with this person and tire of the emotional manipulation, abuse and misery. You'll make a clean break and feel like you've woken up from a nightmare. Later, people will tell you that "everyone has that type of person in his/her life at some point. You know, the kind that abuses you and leaves you wanting the next kick." Hearing this is supposed to make you feel better about everything. Or maybe it's not. It's hard to tell. What you do know is that you'll never blame yourself for what happened. You'll always blame him/her.

You can date someone who's more attractive than you and marvel at his/her perfect body and porcelain skin. His/her clavicle is just so exquisite, isn't it? Love him/her most when he/she is naked and he/she will love you most when you're clothed. You might be smarter than him/her, have more warmth, empathy and intuition, but somehow you'll end up feeling like the inadequate one. Everyone stares at you when you're out together thinking, “What is he/she doing with that?” At least that's what you'll assume people are thinking. Dating someone so beautiful has made you completely paranoid and insecure. Even though the beautiful person has reassured you of his/her love, it won't be enough and you'll stop dating him/her because you don't want to feel like a gargoyle anymore. You’ll miss his/her clavicle most of all.

You can date someone who has never been in love before. He/she will remind you of teen love and it will be absolutely delightful. He/she will say weird intense things without knowing how weird and intense they are and make grand sweeping gestures of his/her love for you. He/she hasn't been ruined yet, hasn't discovered how cruel people can be and how much he/she can disappoint you. You'll inevitably be that person for him/her though. Through some sort of love osmosis, he/she will inherit your bitterness and broken hearts when you start to show the slightest bit of disinterest. When he/she leaves, you won't ever be sure if dating him/her was worth it.

You can date someone who would be a good father or mother. Admire him/her for his/her nurturing capabilities and wonder if you'd be a good parent. Leave him/her when you stop wondering.

You can date someone who's right for you. He/she will have a normal clavicle, make sense year-round, been in love before, take care of you when you're sick, be occasionally passive-aggressive, want kids, sometimes disappoint you, love you, hate you, love you again. You won't worry about who's the cuter one or who loves the other one more. It just won't cross your mind, which is when you know the love has longevity.

The people you date aren't necessarily the people you end up loving and that's okay. There will be different kinds of people who enter your life at certain times. You date someone who hates you when you hate yourself. Afterwards, you date someone who loves you too much to make it all better. The goal is to eventually have your shit sorted out so you can love someone just because he/she is lovely and makes you happy. That's it. I love you; you love me. The end.

Tove Ditlevsen's De Evige Tre

2011-03-07T15:59:00.001+08:00

Poet: Tove Ditlevsen
Singer: Anne Linnet

Der er to mænd i verden,
der bestandig krydser min vej,
den ene er ham jeg elsker,
den anden elsker mig.

Den ene er i en natlig drøm,
der bor i mit mørke sind,
den anden står ved hjertets dør,
jeg lukker ham aldrig ind.

Den ene gav mig et vårligt pust
af lykke der snart for hen,
den anden gav mig hele sit liv
og fik aldrig en time igen,
aldrig en time igen.

Den ene bruser i blodets sang,
hvor elskov er ren og fri,
den anden er et med den triste dag,
som drømmene drukner i.

Hver kvinde står mellem disse to,
forelsket og elsket og ren,
een gang hvert hundrede år kan det ske
de smelter sammen til een,
smelter sammen til een.

Pick me, choose me, love me

2011-03-04T01:49:00.005+08:00

The poetry in this scene is contained in the fact that she was expressing an absolutely selfish desire, and yet this selfishness is indubitably ultimately a product of the overwhelming helplessness she feels due to her love for him -- a lingering longing that unfortunately cannot be bridled, that stubbornly defies rationality, that consumes her in a manner so destructive that she asks to be chosen, to be wanted, to be loved; that her life is no longer her own, and she has to be saved. Her words are selfish, and yet they are not -- despite the unbearable weight of her sorrows, her heart-breaking desperation, her endless loneliness, she wants him to love her out of his own volition, his own free will, his own uncoerced choice.

This scene captures the tragic moment when you place yourself in a position of utter emotional vulnerability at the complete mercy of someone else, when you expose yourself so unreservedly to the possibility of being hurt, when you surrender all your pride in exchange for that elusive hope of reciprocation, when you finally marshal enough courage to risk the potential catastrophic crash and burn -- it's inspiring, it's saddening, and it's beautiful.

Conversation with Herr Fantastisch

2011-02-12T15:45:00.003+08:00

Herr Fantastisch says:
Don't you love how inscrutable I am?

Miao says:
Of course. Everything about you is worthy of love. An impenetrable cloud of mystery unremittingly surrounds you.

Herr Fantastisch says:
Oh, you merely know the tip of the iceberg.

Miao says:
Even Titanic was irresistibly drawn towards your brooding magnificence, looming over the dark horizons.

Herr Fantastisch says:
Is this a concealed reference to the abyss of my wretched soul?

Miao says:
Perhaps. I look into your eyes and I see your abyss staring unwaveringly right back at me.

Herr Fantastisch says:
My abyss doesn't stare. It consumes. It devours. Like a black hole it attracts everyone and everything, even light, so it can't be beheld. It sits in the depths of my mind, waiting. Lurking. Greedy.

Miao says:
Alas, not everything. Sometimes a lone particle swirling at high velocity may escape you. When a pair of dancing particles are so strongly attracted to each other that they travel inseparably, inexorably in the same direction, hurling themselves unstoppably into space, approaching a black hole would cause one of them to be sucked away with such immense force that the other is released in the opposite direction at an unimaginable speed.

Herr Fantastisch says:
And it's exactly these rare, wayward, radiant particles that make me suffer. Craving, yearning, wishing I could reach out and catch them, all the more aware of the blackness of my abyss.

Miao says:
I am one such particle that has eluded you; staring at you, while you stare longingly back at me.

Herr Fantastisch says:
Electrifying.

Miao says:
My partner exchanged his life for my liberation. My life is a testament to his sacrifice, his martyrdom.

Herr Fantastisch says:
Are you trying to tell me that you killed your partner so now you're strong enough to face the perils of the abyss?

Miao says:
Oh, how did you guess? Just as we were approaching you, I summoned all the strength in my body to nudge him ever so slightly closer to you. It worked. It was tricky, but I performed it with incredible finesse and adroitness.

Herr Fantastisch says:
Oh, that's why I suddenly felt so well nourished and constipated. How cunning of you.

The heart asks pleasure first

2010-11-27T14:54:00.000+08:00

Emily Dickinson's The Heart Asks Pleasure First

The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain -
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;

And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.

Ask me if I miss(ed) you

2010-11-17T14:37:00.000+08:00

When he asked her in earnest anticipation if she missed him, she replied, "Do you desire truth or happiness?"

She knew that such an answer would lead him to subconsciously assume that there was a dichotomy between truth and happiness, that the two were mutually exclusive, that the possession of one necessarily entailed the negation of the other. Such is the wonder of the human mind - the seemingly inevitable failure to recognise that truth and happiness do not have to be understood as polarities even when framed in a manner which implies that they are. He did not consider the fact that, regardless of his choice between happiness and truth, he might have gotten the answer he really wanted to hear anyway. When humans ponder over a query which exists in the general form of "A or B?", they very often ignore the possibility that A = B, that the outcome would be the same regardless of their eventual choice. The careless tendencies of the human mind have been most instrumental in facilitating the countless psychological games we often witness in the arena of social interactions - those who have a firm grasp of the workings and the inadequacies of the human psyche dominate by exploiting their knowledge.

She is one of the experts in this field, and she employs her skills to mask her unfortunate bashfulness. She knew that he would immediately jump to the conclusion that she did not miss him. She knew that, instead of answering openly if he wanted truth or happiness, he would leave the question lingering in the air unresolved while changing the the conversation topic in an attempt to conceal his despondence, without realising that his sadness was perhaps due only to his own guesswork. She would be able to take comfort in the fact that she did not lie to him - she merely allowed him to make his own assumption. Perhaps she was selfish for not declaring her feelings directly, for making him crestfallen, for involving him in such convolution, but her pride overwhelmed her considerate nature at that moment, and she couldn't erase what she said.

If he'd told her bravely, "I want the truth, even if it hurts", she'd have dropped all her shyness in a beautiful act of courage to reward his; she would have told him without reservation, "I miss you", and he would have experienced the beginning of a dizzying romance under the lovely auspices of truth.

Section 509

2010-11-15T00:52:00.003+08:00

So the other day The Disney Character was telling me that it is a criminal offence in Singapore to ask a female if she is still a virgin. She was complaining about a spectacularly annoying mutual acquaintance - whom I myself don't particularly care for, by the way - who rudely asked her if she was still a virgin at their very first meeting, and she jokingly contemplated aloud about invoking the law to get him convicted. Upon learning this appalling piece of information, I strongly advised her not to take advantage of such an unjust and silly law. Sure, it was quite impolite of that acquaintance to enquire so explicitly whether a certain orifice in her body had ever been utilised by a specific male apparatus, but why should it be illegal for one to lack basic social graces? If every discourteous act is to be punishable by law, then it should also be a crime for people to talk loudly in libraries/cinemas/posh places or to mock senior citizens for being old/senile, and yet our Penal Code makes no comment on such behaviour. So what makes women so deserving of special treatment?

Anyway, after our brief conversation, I decided to do a little research to verify her words. I found out, to my utter disappointment, that she is correct, for the relevant section of the Penal Code that determines legal culpability in cases in which women's modesty is compromised is so broadly stated that asking if a lady is still a virgin can indeed land you in very serious trouble with the law:

"Section 509: Word or gesture intended to insult the modesty of a woman.

Whoever, intending to insult the modesty of any woman, utters any word, makes any sound or gesture, or exhibits any object, intending that such word or sound shall be heard, or that such gesture or object shall be seen by such woman, or intrudes upon the privacy of such woman, shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which may extend to one year, or with fine, or with both. ...

Slander of women.
... 4. Words spoken and published which impute unchastity or adultery to any woman or girl shall not require special damage to render them actionable." (My emphasis.)

Basically, asking a woman if her hymen is still intact can be construed as an invasion of her privacy, and getting a conspicuous erection when admiring a woman's chest in public can be interpreted as an attempt to violate her modesty, even when this said woman is dressed in a provocative manner that is calculated to invite stares. (If I remember correctly, a man in Singapore was charged some time ago simply for checking out a female stranger's breasts.) Section 509 is extremely ridiculous for giving women way too much privilege - unlike libel laws which stipulate that there must be solid evidence of potential or actual harm to social/financial standing for there to be a prosecution, Section 509 essentially states that being offended is the sole requirement for the establishment of a court case.

Section 509 reeks heavily of sexism, encourages a prudish attitude by suggesting that women's bodies are sacrosanct, and endorses the concept of thought-crime by denying heterosexual men the right of reacting in a perfectly biologically natural way to physically appealing women - after all, lusting after a woman (and getting uncontrollably erect) does not make you a rapist, just as happily imagining the act of killing someone you intensely dislike does not mean that you are a murderer. But Section 509 implies that if a woman happens to notice your stiff organ, perceives you as intentionally wanting her to notice it, and suffers emotional injury as a result, she'll have enough legal grounds to sue you. Any legal system that gives legitimacy to the notion of thought-crime is always at risk of degenerating into a dystopia not unlike the one depicted in Orwell's 1984.

When females spot attractive individuals to whom they are sexually drawn, the more amourous ones among these women would definitely fantasise about fornicating with these good-looking strangers, in the same way in which most heterosexual men dream of ravaging scintillating females in the boudoir - the only difference is that females who mentally play out sequences of pornographic events involving their desired sex partners will not be punished by virtue of the fact that their biological reactions to these prurient fantasies are not visible in public, while men are immediately susceptible to legal consequences because of their biological make-up, something over which they have absolutely no say. To put it simply, men are being penalised just for having penises. In addition, the sexist bias is rendered more obvious when we consider how straight men who might have felt offended by the fact that they aroused noticeable erections in homosexual men are not able to invoke this law to protect their (real or perceived) modesty. In short, not only is Section 509 completely preposterous for sanctioning the absurd idea of thought-crimes, it is also sexist against men.

In a society where there is genuine equality between the sexes, it should be no more offensive or legally answerable for a male to ask a female if she is a virgin than it is for a female to ask a male the same question. The myth of the sanctity of female body has no place in a truly equal community. Section 509 has another highly unsavoury consequence: it does not teach females to be accountable for their own sexuality. If a woman dresses very revealingly, she should be fully prepared to be in the center of attention - men are naturally going to throw lewd glances in her direction; their penises are almost surely going to stiffen upon seeing her. (Anyway, shouldn't women feel flattered to know that they are desirable enough to titillate men?) Section 509 should be re-written so that inasmuch as a woman is not a victim of molestation, harassment or rape, there are no grounds for pressing charges.

It is unacceptable that only males are conscripted into the army, and that the alimony laws here are tremendously skewed in favour of women, but Section 509 just takes the cake when it comes to institutionalised sexism in Singapore. One can only hope that women in Singapore will have enough sense to invoke Section 509 with great care and responsibility.

Some inconvenient questions

2010-11-04T19:53:00.010+08:00

If you are against capital punishment because innocent people could be wrongfully executed, then would you agree that incarceration should not be permitted as well, since people could also be wrongfully imprisoned, especially in a highly corrupted nation? If you think the difference is that reparations can be made for wrongful confinement but not for wrongful executions, then the assumptions here are that 1) the truth will always be discovered in time for there to be meaningful and adequate compensation for innocent convicts, and that 2) death is always worse than losing your freedom/independence for nothing. These assumptions need to be bolstered.

If you are a non-vegetarian who thinks that bestiality should be banned because animals cannot give consent for cross-species sex, why do you think it is all right to violate animal rights by eating them but not all right to violate animal rights by having sex with them?

If you are a non-vegetarian who thinks that there is nothing morally wrong with eating animals because they are incapable of rational reasoning, would you also say it is morally permissible to eat human infants and severely retarded patients?

If you think incestuous couples should be banned from giving birth because their children could be physically harmed, would you also forbid biologically unrelated parents with hereditary diseases from having children?

If you are anti-incest because it is unnatural (actually whether it is really as unnatural as one would immediately assume is questionable, since members of the ruling classes in certain ancient states - e.g., Egypt, Hawaii, China, etc. - did practise incest), are you also anti-contraceptives since having protected sex is also very unnatural from an evolutionary standpoint?

If you think homosexuals should be given the right to marriage because no one can help whom he falls in love with, would you grant the same right to incestuous and polyamorous lovers too?

If you think military conscription is morally allowable to safeguard a country's economic and political interests, would you agree that it is also morally allowable to force women to bear children to fulfil their country's economic needs (both cases demand the sacrifice of one's right to bodily autonomy for the good of the society, and are thus analogous)?

If you think marijuana should be banned because it is a harmful substance, would you say that alcohol and cigarettes should also be banned, since they pose greater health risks than marijuana?

If you think prostitution should not be legalised because it is immoral, would you also make it illegal for people to accept jobs they do not genuinely enjoy? In other words, is it okay to sell our souls for livelihood but not okay to sell our bodies? In addition, why is it okay to earn income by marketing our non-sexual talents (e.g., singing, dancing, etc.) but not okay to earn income by marketing our sexual talents (e.g., the ability to administer really enjoyable blow jobs, etc.)? If you think that allowing prostitution would worsen the spread of STDs, then you should read this article on the benefits of legalising prostitution - doing so actually reduces health risks.

If you have any more questions to add, feel free to comment or send me an email.

Two articles on Singapore

2010-11-01T19:46:00.000+08:00

Lion Without Teeth
Published on The Nation on 2 July 2007

Singapore, the modern city-state known for its authoritarian ways and conservative government, has a reputation for functional efficiency and capitalist success.

The smallest member of Asean geographically is often touted as one of Asia's great success stories - a gleaming city that emerged from the tropical swamps under a strict but wise autocrat, Lee Kuan Yew.

But a fascinating new book by Australian Rodney King looks deeper into the "the Singapore Miracle" and reveals that a lot of the city's supposed successes are in fact hot air.

Reports of Singapore being a dynamic commercial melting pot are, King says, simply the oft-repeated claims of a government that tolerates little dissent, and city leaders who may actually have stifled the sort of entrepreneurial dynamism you get in places such as Hong Kong, Shanghai, Taiwan and maybe even Bangkok.

King is a Perth journalist who lived in Singapore for a number of years and worked briefly at the Straits Times.

"The Singapore Miracle - Myth and Reality" casts doubt on the city-state's claims of cutting-edge efficiency, global competitiveness, economic freedom and transparency. Most Singaporeans are not as affluent as their government makes out, King says in his extensively documented, 500-page tome.

"Books about Singapore usually praise its achievements or criticise its authoritarian rule," he writes. "But few ever probe its widely publicised claims that it is a brilliant success that other countries should follow."

King argues that Singapore's workforce productivity is often mediocre and well below that of the West and Asian economies such as Hong Kong.

"The country also displays endemic inefficiencies at both macro and micro-economic levels. The performance of the construction, financial and service sectors is second-rate, while Singapore Airlines does not deserve the top rankings it receives."

Singapore, he says, has "a dependent and underdeveloped economy". Multinational companies and state enterprises predominate, and the economy has "low entrepreneurial and innovative capacities and an under-educated workforce".

The city-state's supposed affluence is also largely a myth.

"About 30 per cent of the population still lives in poverty by Western living standards," he says. And Singapore's Housing Development Board, Central Provident Fund and state-run health schemes have severe shortcomings.

What Singapore has been good at, he says, is marketing itself.

"Singapore has brilliantly sold itself to the world as an amazing success story to attract foreign investment and talent. It's managed to get most Western think-tanks and ratings agencies to give it top scores for such things as competitiveness, transparency, economic freedom, etc.

"These bodies reflect the interests of foreign capital and their methodologies are shoddy and incompetent at times. And the statistics they are fed by the Singaporean authorities are often dubious and designed to put Singapore in the best light.

"To sell itself to the world Singapore has also denigrated and patronised its lesser-developed neighbours."

Singapore was hardly an economic backwater when Lee Kuan Yew took power in 1959, says King, who has no special regard for the premier, who held office through his People's Action Party (PAP) for 31 years. Lee is now known as a "Minister mentor" and elder statesman.

"Lee is always carefully listened to, and rather too politely ... his views and lectures often receive reverential attention from opinion lenders, American think-tank experts and others who often have little direct first-hand knowledge of Singapore."

In the early to mid-'60s, Singapore had one of the highest living standards in Asia, with one of the best-educated and hardest-working populations. Its strategic location and magnificent harbour - with extensive British-built shipyard facilities - alongside one of the world's busiest sea-lanes, meant that it became a natural transport hub. And these features were a great asset for industrialisation.

The strategies Lee used to develop Singapore were an open-door policy to foreign capital and export orientation to tap into global trade. They helped the city-state enjoy double-digit growth from the '60s to the '80s.

But the Lion City became heavily dependent on foreign capital while state enterprises focused on infrastructure and "nation-building concerns".

Entrepreneurial and innovative capacities have suffered because of a lack of domestic competition and the predominance of state bodies. Public servants running state boards often have little experience of the private sector "and no idea how to run a business", King and other analysts say.

"The local private sector, normally the seedbed of innovation in most market economies, is stunted and starved of venture capital," King writes. "The country's capacity for indigenous research and development and entrepreneurial and innovative endeavours remains limited.

"Heavy state control of the economy is exercised through an extensive layer of state enterprises. The state imposes this control through layers of red tape.

"The government also manages a big chunk of the people's savings through forced savings … and owns 72 per cent of the city-state's land. Moreover, the government controls the unions and most of the labour force. Equally mythical are Singapore's claims to being transparent. Nothing could be more untrue. The operations of Singapore's government and bureaucracy are swathed in secrecy."

King counters claims of high home-ownership levels, saying 86 per cent of Singaporeans rent government flats from the Housing Development Board on 99-year leases.

The author is provocative but very thorough. Every aspect of life in the city-state is analysed in detail.

"Singapore's flaws are hidden by the PAP state's vigorous marketing campaign," he says. And most local and foreign journalists "are usually too restricted or intimidated by government defamation laws and other penalties to challenge or refute" the "river of statistics" promoting Singapore's achievements.

There is a wealth of statistical and anecdotal material in this book to counter the official lines - or lies. Economists and anyone with an interest in Singapore should take note. This book could change the way you view our industrious neighbour.

But, perhaps the saddest facet of King's work is not what he's written, but the fact that the people who most need to read his book may find it hard to get, if Singaporean bookshops refuse to stock it, as he expects.

* * *

Defamation Trial Highlights Singapore's Rope and Lash Law
By Rodney King
Published on The Nation

Alan Shadrake was arrested there on July 20, the morning after launching his book "Once A Jolly Hangman".

The book's main focus is Singapore's veteran hangman Darshan Singh who executed about 1,000 people from 1959 till he retired in 2006. But the book also contends that dubious legal decisions by the country's courts have sent many people to the gallows. Shadrake's claims have incensed Singapore's rulers, who are very sensitive to suggestions that its legal system is anything less than totally competent, professional and politically unbiased.

During his three-day trial last week, the state prosecutor accused Shadrake of making "baseless" attacks against the country's judiciary. His book had implied that Singapore courts succumbed to political and economic pressure, were biased against the poor and were used to suppress the government's political opponents, she said.

Shadrake's trial ended on Wednesday and the presiding judge is expected to give his verdict today. If found guilty he faces a fine and/or two years jail. On July 30, the Singapore government had offered to withdraw the charges if Shadrake issued an "unreserved apology" but he has defiantly refused to do so. "I would never apologise and I would never say sorry," he said.

His trial will again focus world attention on Singapore's high hanging rates and other draconian methods for keeping crime down, including the widespread use of corporal punishment for scores of offences.

Since 1981, Singapore has executed 468 people, according to Amnesty International and a University of California (Berkeley) study. In the mid-1990s, over 70 people a year were being hanged. From 1994 to 1999, Singapore's executions' rate of 13.57 per million population was the world's highest. But since 2005, the numbers hanged yearly have dropped to single digits. A major reason for this is that political pressure from Western and Asian countries has prevented Singapore from hanging their nationals, notes Shadrake's book.

About two-thirds of the hangings have been of drug traffickers, usually small-time couriers and low-level dealers. The Mr Bigs in Singapore's drug trade are rarely caught and executed.

Anyone possessing 15 or more grams of heroin, or 30 grams of cocaine or morphine, or 250 grams of methamphetamine or 500 grams cannabis is hanged.

Those caught with smaller amounts of such drugs are caned with the rotan, a 1.2-metre cane wielded by martial arts experts to maximise the pain experienced.

One caned prisoner recalled that "The pain was beyond description. If there is a word stronger than excruciating, that would be the word to describe it."

People can also be caned for committing victimless crimes such as overstaying for more than 90 days, or being illegal migrants (three to 24 strokes) and for knowingly employing more than five illegal migrants (three to 24 strokes).

Singapore's "rope and lash" law is often hailed as the reason for its low crime rates. But countries like Hong Kong and Japan have kept crime down to Singapore's levels without resorting to such harsh punishments.

Hong Kong neither hangs nor canes people yet its level of murder, rape and drug offences are similar to Singapore's. Japan also does not practice corporal punishment and only hangs serial killers. Its violent crime and drug numbers match those of Singapore and Hong Kong.

While Singapore's murder rate per 100,000 population was 0.4 in 2006 and 2007, Hong Kong's was 0.6 and 0.4 for these years. But Tokyo's was higher at 1.1 and 1.0. By comparison, the murder rates for such Western cities as New York during both years were 7.3 and 6.0, London (2.2 and 2.1) and Toronto ( 2.6 and 3.1).

Also, Singapore's rape figures are much higher than Hong Kong and Japan's. In 2002, Singapore had 3.2 rapes per 100,000 population compared to 1.85 for Japan and 1.0 for Hong Kong (in 2003), according to UN crime statistics.

The picture becomes more complex when comparing drug offence rates for all three countries.

The prevalence of drug abuse (as percentage of a population aged 15 to 64) for such opiates as heroin was 0.2 for Hong Kong in 2003 compared to 0.1 for both Singapore and Japan in 2002, according to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime. The figures for cocaine abuse were 0.01 for Hong Kong and 0.03 for Japan in 2003 and 0.01 for Singapore in 2000. Again, drug-abuse rates for most Western countries were usually several times higher.

But these figures do disprove the widespread belief in the West that Singapore is completely drug-free.

These statistics can only provide an approximate comparison between Singapore, Hong Kong and Japan. But they are sufficient to show that Singapore is achieving no better crime control with its draconian criminal punishments than they are.

Further proof of this is provided by a University of California (Berkeley) study comparing the incidence of homicide in Singapore and Hong Kong with and without the death penalty. Hong Kong stopped executions in 1966. The study concluded that there was no correlation between the execution and murder rates for either Hong Kong or Singapore.

This and other research casts significant doubt on the widespread belief that Singapore's harsh criminal penalties explain its low crime rate. Crime-weary Westerners need to think again before assuming that such tough punishments can best combat the drug-driven violence and homicidal craziness of their own societies.

I quote myself sometimes

2010-10-29T20:17:00.004+08:00

"This translation applies to every single Japanese porn film: 'No, no, no, no, ah, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder, ah, ah, ah!' No need to learn Japanese just to understand Japanese porn."

"You should tell your mother that, according to Chinese tradition, daughters are only obliged to care for their husbands' families, and they are not expected to take care of their parents. Therefore, she is in no position to stop you from living overseas permanently if you want."

"Whoever marries my sister will be responsible for her first orgasm."

"You believe in God? How long have you been living in the Matrix?"

"So this blog belongs to the girl who has self-esteem issues because she is flat-chested? I think she should also feel sad about her lack of eloquence, her inability to write in proper grammar and her want of emotional maturity."

"If someone saves you just so you can live according to his/her wishes, then it is just glorified slavery."

"I am Asian. That means I don't shave my Netherlands."

"My IQ is so high that I can afford to lose a few points."

"Singlish is so illogical. The other day I overheard a girl complaining to her friend, 'The traffic was so terrible, just like lao sai. 'Lao sai' means 'diarrhoea'. Shouldn't she have said 'The traffic was so terrible, it felt like constipation' instead?"

"Americans make up for their deficiency in IQ with their BMI."

"Sometimes cynicism is the only survival tactic."

"The Berlin Wall's destructibility was due to the fact that it was made in China."

"China has history but no civilisation."

"A black contestant on 'America's Next Top Model' said she doesn't dare to have sex with white men because their penises look like raw meat. I suppose she likes burnt meat then. I await the day when a white woman says on national television that she doesn't like black men because their penises look like overcooked food. But then people would accuse her of racism. We shall get to witness an exercise in double standards." "No one is going to believe a heterosexual woman who says that she doesn't like black cocks." "I think she should date yellow-skinned men. These males have the best penises in the world - neither raw nor burnt."

"China's education system turns its people into unthinking masses. The creation of these ignoramuses allows the Chinese government to say, 'Our people are too stupid for democracy.' The way they blindly revere Mao Zedong makes me wonder if their stupidity is innate or just a product of stifling propaganda."

"Sometimes I wonder if the Chinese people are naturally born with streaks of cruelty, unreasonableness and selfishness."

"Singapore is the only Chinese-dominant country which has managed to uphold laws of order and principles of transparency. I regret the fact that Deng Xiaoping didn't emulate Lee Kwan Yew in this respect, for China wouldn't be so corrupted today if he did."

"I love China, but not the People's Republic of China."

To see a World in a Grain of Sand/ And a Heaven in a Wild Flower

2010-10-22T20:29:00.045+08:00

[Announcement: I experimented with my blog settings some time ago and forgot to adjust them back, so I didn't realise that comments were forbidden until my friend kindly informed me of my mistake a while ago. I have adjusted my settings and now comments are allowed again. Sorry to those who wanted to comment but weren't able to.]

So the other day I was having lunch with Mr Vietnamese when our conversations, in between those leisurely sips and bites, casually drifted into the realms of philosophy. Mr Vietnamese revealed that he sometimes has Cartesian tendencies, questioning if the world in which we live is indeed objectively real. Having experienced similar bouts of existential panic before, I articulated my sincerest sympathy, at which point he earnestly asked me how one could reconcile the idea that one's life is not entirely meaningless with the notion that we could very well be living in computer simulation (or in a figment of hallucination).

I responded by bringing up two different points: 1) As argued in Descartes' meditations, even if the existence of our world can be called into doubt, at the very least we can still be certain of the presence of our consciousness, and that much seems indisputable. Insofar as our consciousness doubtlessly exists, I believe that we have free will, and our free will can be best expressed in our navigations of and reactions to the physical world, illusory as it may be. The chimerical nature of this universe in which we reside does not necessarily entail the loss of all meaning in our lives; after all, we continue to preserve our capacity for autonomy, and our agency can be exercised through our volitional responses to the circumstances fashioned by the computer which operates the simulated world in which we currently exist. Perhaps everything exists merely in our heads, but we must never forget that we exert power over our imaginations, and not vice versa - it is definitely quite plausible to presume that we have the ability to decide and influence the directions in which events should next proceed, even if these events are just products of our collective daydreaming. 2) While establishing my earlier point, I was tacitly assuming that the unreality of our physical world is a characteristic always concomitant with the notion that we live in a matrix, but now I wish to clarify that I do not really think that these two ideas are so inextricably intertwined. I actually follow Chalmers' lead in arguing that, even if it does turn out that we live in a matrix, we can still be assured of the tangibility of our corporeal world, because then what underlies the fabric of our world is not physical substances such as quarks, but computer bits upon which simulated universes are built, and these computer bits are certainly no less real than the physical entities which, according to scientists in our present age, constitute the foundation of our universe. I find Chalmers' argument particularly compelling, and one big advantage it offers is the avoidance of nihilism even if we simply turn out to be brains in vats.

Here I deem it important to elaborate what I mean exactly by the term "simulation". My Weltanschauung does not accommodate the concept of a moralistic, interventionist God ('God' here is loosely defined as any superior individual that has the power to control the unfolding of things around us - note that I do not invest any connotation of supernaturalness in this understanding of 'superiority'; the scientists who constructed our simulated world - if we do live in one - also qualify as superior beings, even though they are most certainly not supernatural figures), for I think no argument can achieve any success in demonstrating that such a God is compatible with the idea of free will, and I choose to reject a God of this nature in favour of free will. If it does turn out that we live in a simulation, I think the likeliest picture is that this invented world was set into motion and then left completely alone to run on its own. My agnosticism regarding this version of the Simulated World Hypothesis (hereafter abbreviated as SWH), which I shall name Version X, compels me to concede that deism is not a totally outlandish doctrine (insofar the definition of superiority does not necessarily involve supernaturalness), for they are one and the same. Compare:

Version X: We live in a world which was created and then left to run on its own without additional interruptions or interferences.
Deism: We live in a world which was created and then left to run on its own without additional interruptions or interferences.

Essentially, there is no difference between the two. Therefore, I am an atheist inasmuch as a moralistic, interventionist, personal, anthropomorphic God is concerned (in fact, if the Bible, the Koran as well as other religious texts are to be taken as faithful literal representations of God, then I can say with confidence that I know they are fallacious), but I am undecided on the issue of deism. I am still more inclined towards the stand that deism is misguided, but I cannot deny it with as much certainty. Anyway, it is surely possible that there is an innumerable series of simulations, one contained in another, and eventually we will return to the issue of creation and maintenance, this time of the world in which all the other simulated worlds are stored.

Anyway, to resume, Mr Vietnamese asked me to defend my commitment to the absence of a non-interventionist God by accounting for the phenomena of accurate divinations. I explained that it is merely a false belief that divinations have predictive power, and that this false impression is an outcome of our unintentional/irrational predisposition to transform supposedly prophetic words into self-fulfilling prophecies through our own actions. E.g., if your daily horoscope tells you that today your colleagues - even those from whom you are usually quite distant - will be exceptionally friendly towards you, this piece of nice news will very likely affect your mood in a positive way, and your sudden display of joviality will in turn subtly encourage the people around you to treat you in a more friendly manner. At the end of a reasonably enjoyable day at work, you go home marvelling merrily to yourself about how accurate your horoscope reading is.

To truly maximise our free will, we have to learn to break free from the fetters of these 'divinations' - they are detrimental to our lives for their suggestions are difficult to be completely eradicated from our minds, and it is likely that we will end up being puppets to their dictations. 'Divinations' are mostly phrased in very vague terms, often allowing their readers to form their own assumptions and interpretations of the contents, and the inception of these ideas will impact people to subconsciously lead their lives in a way that would bring about the fulfilment of these predictions. Humans are curious creatures capable of retrospective rationalisation, and the partial failure of these prophecies is very often ignored or conveniently explained away by re-construing their words in ways that suit the previously unexpected results. It is quite depressing that superstitious people are likelier to end up being even more superstitious, for they are the ones who would religiously peruse horoscope readings and visit fortune-tellers in the first place.

Skepticism does not necessitate an endorsement of nihilism. Divinations sell emotional comfort for the price of rational agency. At the risk of ending this entry on an annoyingly cheesy motivational note, all I wish to emphasise is that we must always remember that we can all be masters of our own lives, instead of finding excuses for laziness, intellectual or otherwise.

Impressions of the West Lake (an extremely loose translation)

2010-10-15T17:55:00.003+08:00

The rain continues to fall, descending into a lake of sweet miasma. The impenetrable thickness of the fog shrouds memories in monotones of black and white, and one could barely make out the blurred shapes of broken bridges and abandoned umbrellas, sorrowfully redolent of those who once were, of those who have left.

Who is that solitary figure authoring my past? He is seated in the boat, resting placidly in the middle of the lake. I watch him as he pens his most sacrosanct vows of love and promises of eternity, while the rain tirelessly smudges his words, irreversibly diffusing dark traces of ink into a melancholic letter of farewell.

I stand by the lake, quietly watching the distant northern shores. There is no respite from my endless goodbyes - my words of longing linger above the waters of the West Lake day after day.

The frail white wings of butterflies demarcate the moments, the hours and the years with the soft rhythm of their flight. Those barely audible sighs of sadness, carrying the heavy weight of inexpressible emotions, transform this Earth into a paradise, christening this harsh reality with fragmented memories of our past. The rain, unbroken for thousands of years, fills millenia with infinite tears. In the blankets of mist, I can no longer tell where the lake ends and where the skies begin. We shall meet again in the embrace of those swirling wisps of haze, in those colourless shades of grey. Or perhaps you are the one in the boat, with your back turned towards me, as you narrate our history. Love may be limited by our mortality in life, but in death it acquires timelessness, weaved into the trees, the mountains, the clouds, the smog, and the fabric of our ephemeral world.

(Endnote: It goes without saying that the original lyrics in Mandarin are many times lovelier.)

Translating Luo Zhicheng

2010-10-04T08:54:00.000+08:00

Could it be that only a beautiful encounter can nullify the loneliness of living on this planet in the indifference of the rest of the universe? We desire to be noticed by the most oblivious of people, and yet a phenomenon so rare could only happen in love.

I demand a meeting with Mark Zuckerberg

2010-09-21T16:04:00.000+08:00

FaceBook is anti-polyamory but not anti-incest. It allows me to list a family member as my lover but does not allow me to list multiple people as my lovers. Please, FaceBook, don't discriminate!

As if grasping for something ethereal that's almost within reach

2010-09-17T21:54:00.003+08:00

Straw poll: Incest

2010-09-10T12:36:00.000+08:00

If anyone still reads this blog, please let me know your views on incest. Do you think incestuous relationships should be criminalised? Do you think incestuous couples should be allowed to spawn offspring? What motivates your stand? Would you forcibly perform vasectomy and/or ligation on an incestuous couple? Would you make it legally mandatory that pregnant females involved in incestuous relationships undergo abortion procedures? If your answer is yes to the previous two questions, how would you punish any couple who disobeys the state's orders?

Minimum wage law works by Hui Weng Tat

2010-09-07T20:03:00.001+08:00

Minimum wage law works
By Hui Weng Tat
Published on The Straits Times on 2 September 2010

In a surprising departure from its usual free market orientation, Hong Kong lawmakers recently voted in favour of a minimum wage law for vulnerable low-wage workers. It may be time for Singapore to consider a minimum wage law; such a policy may be preferable to raising the levy on foreign workers to reduce the country's dependence on these workers.

A growing influx of low-skilled, low-cost foreign labour has effectively increased Singapore's overall labour supply. There is an ongoing debate as to whether this has depressed domestic wages at the bottom. I believe the available evidence for this link between the influx of foreign labour and depressed wages at the bottom is compelling.

Between 1998 and 2008, the number of foreign workers employed, most of them lower-skilled, rose by about 438,000 or 48 per cent of total new employment over the period. Over the same period, real wages of employed residents in the lowest 20 per cent of the wage distribution were virtually stagnant while those in the upper half experienced real growth of at least 20 per cent.

If one takes an international perspective, mobility of labour leads to greater efficiency and higher productivity. The national perspective can be different: For example, in response to low wages in certain jobs, some local workers may withdraw from the labour market. Others might prefer to work part-time instead of full-time. In short, the full-time employment rate of local workers may be lower as the result of the influx of foreign labour. This would represent an underutilisation of scarce labour resources, a situation that Singapore can ill afford.

The introduction of the Workfare Income Supplement scheme in 2007 to encourage older workers to stay employed in the face of wage stagnation; the lower employment rate among women in Singapore compared to other developed countries; and the steady rise in part-time employment rate in Singapore - all these suggest that low wages at the bottom may have restricted the size of the labour force.

How might a minimum wage improve the situation?

For a start, it will raise the incentive to work among the lower-skilled. For example, a 50-year-old worker may not want to work for $5 an hour, calculating that an eight-hour work day, five days a week, will net him $800 gross a month or about $622 in cash after factoring in CPF contributions ($118) and a transport cost of $3 a day ($60 a month). On the other hand, a minimum wage of $7 per hour would give him a gross salary of $1,120, CPF contribution of $187 and a take-home pay of $873. That difference could nudge him into taking a job.

Without a minimum wage, the current system of low wages for some local workers has created a need for remedial measures such as Workfare. The scheme is expected to cost $400 million this year and benefit 400,000 recipients. The subsidy will increase in future if local wages at the bottom continue to be depressed. A minimum wage law can stave off the need for higher government subsidies of low-wage jobs.

A minimum wage law would also have the salutary effect of making employers more efficient in using their workers. It would encourage them to hire better-quality workers with the requisite skills or those who can be trained to acquire such skills, so as to justify the higher wages. Employers will thereby be compelled to boost productivity, move up the value chain, thus increasing the demand for higher-paid jobs.

Detractors of a minimum wage would argue that it will reduce employment by raising the wage bills of firms. In Singapore, however, demand for low-wage workers exceeds supply, which is why there is a large inflow of foreign labour. Companies naturally favour a continued influx of cheap foreign labour. But it should be remembered that a large foreign worker population generates significant negative externalities. A minimum wage policy would help moderate the excessive inflow of foreign workers.

As for the argument that mandating a minimum wage goes against the ethos of a free market, the truth is that intervention in the labour market is not new. The foreign worker levy system, which has been in place since 1980, is calculated to increase employer costs and reduce dependence on foreign labour. Minimum salary levels have also been set for certain types of employment passes, such as the S-pass and employment pass.

But levies do not raise productivity if the higher wage cost is passed on by employers to workers in the form of lower wages. Foreign work permits often tie workers to a specific employer, leaving them powerless to protest against low wages. Such a regime would not only de-motivate existing workers but also end up attracting even less productive workers to our shores.

In contrast, a mandatory minimum wage would boost wages and morale. Workers who benefit from a mandated minimum wage will feel better and more fairly treated. This would help build goodwill towards the nation among transient foreign workers who will eventually return to their home countries.

When all these factors are considered, it becomes clear that a minimum wage would raise productivity and improve workers' welfare. Hong Kong took a decade to debate the issue. Perhaps it is time for Singapore to start.

The writer is an associate professor at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, NUS.

Quote-worthy snatches of conversations

2010-09-02T00:19:00.019+08:00

[Foreword: I quote myself sometimes. I'm shameless that way. If you really feel like life is too long, you can always waste time trying to guess which of the following quotes were uttered by me.]

"My student told me the other day that, for her O Level oral exam, she was supposed to talk about her latest visit to the hospital. So she told the examiners that she saw a doctor recently to examine an abscess on her elbow. Then she showed the examiners her elbow and said, 'Looks like a nipple, right? My friend said it looks like a nipple!' And then she claimed that her examiners were very amused."

"The casual xenophobia of the older generations is so tacky." "Almost as tacky as the wimpy political correctness of our current generation."

"I always thought name-calling during sex was hot." "You like that don't you, you big dumb poop-head?"

"If I can visit any 5 European countries, I'd choose Venice, London, Paris, Germany and France."

"I want a girlfriend who can discuss philosophy with me. But she must not be a philosophy student, because I don't want her to win in arguments."

[On Singapore] "The Ministry of Education killed my passion for teaching." "This cesspit killed my passion for living."

[On why males should be physically fit] "She's going to leave you because she's sick of taking the top all the time and waiting for a sausage that won't stand in a thousand years."

[On nationalism] "I use my country's flag as a carpet in front of my toilet." "I hope you didn't get any brown stains on that flag."

[On the PAP] "When in doubt, blame Singaporeans!" "When in want of money, tax Singaporeans!" "When in need of votes, gerrymander/grant citizenship to massive numbers of foreigners/bribe people with financial packages!" "The PAP is getting so predictable."

[On this FML entry: "Today, after making out with my girlfriend for the first time, I took down my pants only to have her say, 'Eww, what're those drooping sacks? They look like tumours.' She was serious. FML."] "Maybe she was paying him back for what he said when she took off her blouse."

[On Singapore again] "We are easily among the most disadvantaged. We live in an advanced country but we work like the people in Third World countries and get paid Second World countries' rates. We won't want to emigrate to a slighly less developed country because policies in these countries can really be shitty. And when we want to emigrate to the First World there are so many requirements."

[On Minister Mentor Lee's speech] "Judging from its abnormal health, how likely do you think this creature will become centenarian?" "Doesn't matter if it becomes centenarian or not. It'll rise from the grave anyway. Quick! We need Buffy the Vampire Slayer!"

[On adoption rights for gay couples] "Here's some food for thought: how many straight couples have unwanted children? And how many gay couples have unwanted children?" "How many paedophiles have unwanted children? None."

[On pick-up lines that philosophy students can use] "Is that a rigid designator in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"I hate guys who wear checkered shirts." "Actually, hot guys look good regardless of what they are wearing, and especially when they are not wearing anything!"

"My friend advised me to tell the boy I like that he's sin²x and that I'm cos²x, and then ask him what he would get when he adds both together. I don't know how people think of such things." "I wish more people would emulate your friend and express love in such logical ways." "... You are too scary."

"If you want to know what true love is, you should consult Literature students." "They're the last people to ask, because they don't believe in 'true' anything."

"Yay =3" "What the hell is that sign?! It looks like two hairy balls."

[On being a doctor] "My life resembles 'The Hard Times of RJ Berger' more than 'Grey's Anatomy'." "Aw, no casual sex with co-workers."

[On Jay Chou] "This guy should really learn how to enunciate properly. When he sang, ‘你的温柔像羽毛’ (Translation: 'Your tenderness is like a feather'), I thought he was singing ‘你的温柔像阴毛’ (Translation: 'Your tenderness is like a strand of pubic hair')."

"I consider Literature majors to be in the category of those who can't define and can't calculate."

[On burning flags in celebration of National Day] "I can see the positioning: 'Live Our Dreams, Burn Our Flag.'"

"So I asked him if he liked me because of biology or because of chemistry." "What does that mean?" "That is just like asking, 'Do you like me because your heart tells you to, or because your penis tells you to?'"

"God brought me to my knees again." "That's what she said."

On sexual infidelity

2010-08-30T21:53:00.002+08:00

The other day I wrote an annoyingly garrulous post on my mate-choosing criteria. (If you managed to finish reading that whole pile of noxious garbage, I salute you - you exhibited superhuman endurance!) In one part of that entry, I mentioned that I would expect unreserved honesty from my partner if he ever cheats on me. As I retrospectively review what I wrote, I think that I should have been more careful in specifying the kind of infidelity to which I was referring.

To be perfectly honest, in principle I would permit my partner to have sex with other females if I am consistently disappointing in bed. If, despite regular and diligent feedback from my partner, I still prove to be an embarrassingly hopeless failure when it comes to fulfilling his sexual needs, or if he has certain sexual fantasies that I adamantly refuse to indulge (e.g., my anus will never be open for business), I would consent to let him fornicate with other females so that he can maximise his pleasure.

There are some inviolable conditions that must be observed though: 1) If our sexual activities continue unabated while he finds sex partners outside the relationship, I demand that he takes impeccable precautions in preventing the contraction of all sexually transmitted illnesses, lest he spreads those nasty diseases to me. One worry is that there is no entirely foolproof way of protecting oneself against STDs - just as some females are highly unlucky to get impregnated in spite of commendable efforts at contraception, some people do still end up with STDs despite always using condoms. Considering this, I would really appreciate it if my partner insists without exception that all his sex partners produce recent health reports certifying that they are totally disease-free. 2) My partner's promiscuity must never undermine the emotional strength of our relationship, and he must never get involved in anyone else beyond the physical level - i.e., I expect complete emotional loyalty. Once nascent love is evident between him and another woman, he should immediately make a choice between her and me, instead of committing a grave injustice by denying the both women exclusive emotional devotion.

Allowing my partner to philander for the purposes of sexual gratification seems to be a dangerous slippery slope. Let's imagine that my partner is extremely adventurous in bed, and strongly desires to engage in all sorts of wild, kinky experiments with which I'm not exactly comfortable. I agree to let him go to other females so that his most intoxicating erotic dreams can become reality, while the two of us stick to less eccentric sexual routines. Other women and I complement one another very neatly when it comes to satisfying my partner's sexual cravings; so why can't I consent to a polygamous relationship, so that my partner's emotional needs can perhaps be better served as well?

My answer to this is that I strongly believe that emotional faithfulness is essential to the long-term maintenance of a healthy, loving romantic relationship, while sexual fealty is not. (Yes, I think sex and love are completely detachable from each other.) I do not consider polygamy to be abhorrent (actually, I do not think that any form of exercise that involves only consenting adults is immoral at all - which is precisely why I think Armin Meiwes should not have been sentenced to imprisonment), but I just do not believe that it would work successfully for me.

I admit that this is because I have a very particular notion of love that is wholly incompatible with polygamy. I believe that a person who can simultaneously harbour romantic feelings for multiple individuals is simply depriving all of his partners of the most immense depth of love of which the human heart is capable, and I want nothing but the most unadulterated, devoted, heartfelt affection. If my partner constantly seeks new romantic partners to fulfill his hitherto neglected emotional voids, then it is a glaring sign that there is an unbridgeable chasm between us. I truly believe that love is about compromise, accommodation and acceptance (I sincerely apologise for sounding like Switzerland right now) - it is a rewarding pilgrimage to maturity and an invaluable lesson on sacrifice. In relationships, there is the sobering reminder of our humble humanity - of our numerous imperfections, of our shameful limitations - as couples go through tiring quarrels (and, hopefully, sweet reconciliations thereafter), but these painful obstacles and vexatious frustrations teach you to recognise that your partner is your equal, that he/she is also flawed and vulnerable, and that if he/she can remain unwavering in his/her commitment despite all your fallibility and your disagreeable shortcomings, then he/she deserves your greatest reciprocation, instead of your weakness. It is just too terribly convenient and cowardly to search for new partners whenever woes arise, instead of learning to appreciate the ways in which your partner express his/her affection - which may not conform to your expectations all the time - and trying your best to tide the storms (which are inevitable in relationships).

If your reaction to relationship problems is to drift from one body to another in search of emotional comfort, then you are basically conveying to me that you are not ready to invest everything in any one person, and that you are unequipped with the necessary disposition to provide the love for which I yearn. Straying emotionally is not the solution to relationship troubles. In fact, I believe that emotional unfaithfulness is the anathema of romantic relationships. So if you want to cheat, please have enough decency to inform me.

(P.S.: I know many people associate sexual fidelity with emotional steadfastness - there is a reason why the phrase 'making love' is so commonly used after all - so I would not demand that my partner, either present or future, allow me to sleep around in the event that I think his skills leave very much to be desired. Relationships are about taking and giving, and this is an issue that I'm not too stubborn about.)

Jaclyn Friedman's My Sluthood, Myself

2010-08-29T15:20:00.004+08:00

My Sluthood, Myself
Written by Jaclyn Friedman
Published on Yes Means Yes!, 26 July 2010

Last summer, I suffered the breakup of a relationship that I had thought would be permanent. Now, I’ve been through my share of break-ups, even of quite serious relationships, but nothing ever broke me like this one.

Since then, I’ve had sexual interactions of the orgasmic kind with 9 different people, none of which I was at any time in a committed relationship with.

I’m not telling you this to shock (though I am specifying the number because we all need to get over the whole “OMG! Be ashamed of your NUMBER! It’s either too big or too small!” thing). I’m telling you this because of something else that’s also true about me: I’d really like to be in a long-term, probably monogamous relationship. That’s right, folks, I’m a slut who craves a stable, loving, committed relationship. File me under “Lookin’ fer luv: ur doin it wrong.”

That’s the story we get sold, right? That women who sleep around are destroying their chances at True Love. Something to do with bonding hormones getting all used up? Or is it that we have so little self-esteem that no one could love us? Or maybe it’s that we’re all used candy wrappers or dirty masking tape. I can never remember.

Thing is: I’ve done it the other way. Until my mid-30s, I was largely a serial monogamist. Not for any grand ethical or philosophical reasons – it was just what felt comfortable to me. That’s not to say that I didn’t have some wild adventures in college, or never went to bed with someone on a first date – I did on occasion. It’s just that when I did, I’d often wake up the next day in a relationship. Let me tell you: not the best recipe for partnership bliss.

I’m thinking of one particular instance in which I had what was for me a very painful dry spell: a year and a half in which I barely got to kiss anyone, and didn’t get to do anything other than that at all, sexually speaking, with anyone. It… yeah. Didn’t feel too good. Made me feel like I would never be touched or loved again. Made me feel, in a word, desperate. You know what’s not a great emotional state for making important life decisions? Desperation.

To wit: after this year and a half of nothing, I went to bed with a woman I barely knew on our first date. Nothing wrong with that, we had a great time, and seriously, did I mention a year and a half? The problem came the next morning, when it became obvious that she was much more into me emotionally than I was at that point. Did I tell her that? And potentially get exiled back to my affectionless desert? I bet you know the answer. What followed was a two-year relationship in which we were unhappy for about the last year and a half.

Fast forward through a few more relationships to last fall. As I crawled out of the acute grief stage of my breakup and into the Land of Reboundia, I launched myself somewhat full-throttle into dating. It was comforting to me to find that there were other people I found appealing who felt similarly about me. But each person I’d meet, if there was any kind of a click at all, I’d throw myself at them whole-hog, wanting so badly for them to be The One that proved I wouldn’t have to do die alone with a shriveled-up vagina and no cats. (I’m allergic.) And then (sing this with me if you know the tune), when something would inevitably go wrong, however silly or minor, however nascent the connection was, it would feel overwhelming. Like I was dying. Like I was broken all over again.

And then a miracle occurred. Via the unlikeliest source of miracles ever: Craigslist Casual Encounters.

I had never thought of my self as a Casual Encounters kind of girl. I’d read them on occasion, sure, out of fascination, horror, horniness. I’d even, once in a long while, in lonely desperate moments, posted an ad, not with the intention of actually meeting anyone, but because sometimes knowing you have a bunch of bad options that you’re rejecting feels better than feeling like you have no options at all. And it was that exact state I found myself in one Friday night last fall, after having been blown apart yet again by some minor rejection that felt so huge it sent me to my bed. I hadn’t showered or shaved or left the house in days. And so, glass of wine in hand, wearing a robe and dirty sweatpants, I posted an ad just so I could watch the replies come in and feel like I had some kind of choice in the world. That somebody wanted me, even if they were gross and I’d never want them back.

And then B. responded. He was smart and charming. His picture looked cute. He seemed like a grown-up, and not like a psycho. He knew how to banter. He made a funny joke about punctuation. And, after a few emails were exchanged, he wanted to know if I’d like to meet him for a drink. That night. Then. And, to my great shock and terror and excitement, I found that I did. (What writer can resist a good punctuation joke?)

The next hour was a blur of furious grooming, during which I kept up the following internal monologue: I’m going to get axe murdered. I’m going to get axe murdered. You don’t have to do this, you can call it off. No, I want to. I can handle myself, I have good instincts and great training. Oh, god, I’m going to get axe murdered…

I’m telling you this because sluthood is scary. Because we’ve been taught to fear it all our lives, and that training doesn’t just go away because we understand the agenda behind it. And because there are real risks involved. Society likes to punish slutty women. And so do a lot of individual men, some of whom frequent Craigslist Casual Encounters.

I left my roommate a note telling her what I’d done and where I was going and to call me at 11 and if I didn’t answer to call the police. (What they were going to do about the fact that her 30-something roommate had gone on a CE date and wasn’t home after two hours I mercifully didn’t wonder at the time.) And then I went down to the local bar and met him.

You’ve probably already guessed that I didn’t get axe murdered. Instead, we spent a lovely hour chatting over a couple of glasses of wine, he used the phrase “male hegemony” critically in a sentence (entirely unprompted by me), and then he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place, which was nearby. And once again, to my shock and terror and excitement, I found that I did. Though not before asking him for his address, calling my roommate with it in front of him, and letting him know I had extensive self-defense training.

Reader, I fucked him. Three rounds worth that night. And it was awesome.

Driving home late that night, I was overcome with an uneasy feeling. What had I just done? What did it mean? What would my friends think? Was this who I wanted to be? I sat in my parked car, paralyzed, for ten minutes that felt like an hour. And then I climbed upstairs, slid into bed, and fell into a troubled sleep.

So much of what changes us in life is accidental. The split-second decision. The whim indulged or squelched. I woke up the next morning feeling unmoored. Like something inside me had been knocked loose, but I didn’t yet know if it was a part I needed, or something that had been in the way. At brunch with friends that day, I nervously let slip about my little adventure, and exhaled as they cheered and pumped me for details. Emboldened by their lack of judgment, I told a few more friends, found more wicked delight.

I’m telling you this because sluthood requires support. Because any woman who indulges these urges carries with her a lifetime of censure and threat. That’s a loud chorus to overcome. A slut needs a posse who finds her exploits almost as delicious as she finds them herself, who cares about her safety and her stories and her happiness but not one whit about her virtue. A slut alone is a slut in difficulty, possibly in danger.

Slowly, I realized. A picture came in to focus. I had the fierce love of my friends. I now knew how to find a lover. And knowing those, I admitted what everyone around me already knew: I wasn’t ready for a new relationship. I couldn’t handle the vulnerability required. It was hurting me too much, too often. But suddenly, it was OK. Suddenly I saw that I didn’t have to keep trying. There were other options.

Of course, things are never as simple as you want them to be. I went back to the CL well trying to find more men like B. with little success. He was, perhaps, a needle in a haystack that I never thought would contain a needle in the first place. There were bushels of disgusting replies, some other flirty email exchanges, a few dates that didn’t make it past the first cocktail, and a scant handful of sexual encounters, only one of which, aside from B., was worth repeating. And even that one fizzled out after a while.

But it didn’t really matter. Because sluthood isn’t an action, it’s a state of mind.

I’m telling you this because sluthood saved me. Sluthood gave me the time and space to nurse a shattered heart. It gave me a place where I could exist in pieces, some of me craving touch, some of me still too tender to even expose to the light. Sluthood healed the part of me that felt my body and my desires were grotesque after two years in a libido-mismatched partnership. Now I felt hot, wanted, powerful. My desire and enthusiasm was an asset, not an unintended weapon. Even now, with more time passed, now, when I am actually ready for and wanting a more emotional connection, sluthood keeps me centered. It keeps me from confusing desire and affection with something deeper. It means I have another choice besides celibacy and settling. It means I won’t enter another committed relationship just to satisfy my basic need for sex and affection. It gives me more choices, it makes room for relationships to evolve organically, to take the shape they will before anyone defines them.

I’m telling you this because, as scary and dangerous as my sluthood is, it’s built on privilege. My paid work will never be in jeopardy because my sluthood is exposed. My work also means I have a lot of practice with direct sexual communication. I’m old enough to be fluent in my own desires and limits, and also old enough that no one expects me to be virginal anyhow, so the risk of stigma is less. I’m cisgender and able-bodied and relatively mentally heathly for now, which makes these assignations a lot easier to mange on multiple levels, I would imagine. I have extensive self-defense training, which assures me I can stay in control of my own safety even in most situations. As a survivor of sexual violence, I’ve been privileged to have access to good long-term therapy and other resources that helped me heal at a deep level. I’m also white, which means that no one expects my behavior to represent my entire race.

I’ve also had some obstacles to overcome. Fat girls don’t have the same pick of partners that smaller women seem to, though I’ve been pleasantly surprised and moved that there are more people out there who are attracted to me than I’d thought. Being a woman who’s “pushing 40” doesn’t exactly expand the pool either. My trauma history means I still have triggers to manage, so I’m a stickler for people who respond respectfully and immediately to direct communication – that rules out many more people than I wish it did, and my instincts on that front are quite good, but not perfect.

In other ways, too, sluthood isn’t always pretty, and I’m not always good at it. Whether from years of habit or something more intrinsic to my personality, my heart seems to want to attach, and after a couple months of playing together casually, and having long, rangey talks naked in bed together between rolls in the hay, it started to with B. Neither of us handled it particularly well. There were tears; there were accusations. But even that was an education: somehow, the conflict that erupted demonstrated so clearly the ways we wouldn’t work together in a more serious arrangement, leaving us free to pick up where we’d left off as lovers. A thread in a needle in a haystack, I suppose.

Meanwhile, via CL and other sources, I’ve had emails and dates and crushes and flings, and one thing that looked like it might get serious and then quite abruptly disappeared. I’ve explored some sexual experiences I’d only fantasized about, and learned which ones are better as fantasies and which ones I want to explore even more. I’ve remembered how much I like pleasure, and how much of it there is in the world. I’ve had to learn how to reject people nicely but clearly, and learn how to appreciate a generous rejection when it’s aimed at me. I’m building my emotional muscles again, and I’m starting to think I could eventually wind up stronger than ever. At the moment, I’ve got another connection simmering over a low flame; not sure yet what it’ll boil down to.

And yes, I still want love. Make that Love. The brass ring. The whole enchilada. A partner in crime, a permanent teammate. A mutual admiration society of two. Someone who feels like home, and who feels the same about me. Someone to catalogue my wrinkles as they form. Whatever you want to call it. When I think about it, it involves monogamy, but who knows. Maybe I’ll find it with someone. Maybe I won’t. I can’t pretend I don’t care. But most days, sluthood helps me be patient. It keeps desperation at bay. It reminds me to enjoy the life I have now, instead of waiting for someone to come start it. It helps me know my heart better, and my libido. It makes me better at communicating about both of them, and much less likely to confuse the two. To my mind, far from ruining me for real love, sluthood is preparing me for it.

I’m not telling you because I think I’ve discovered something new – countless women have certainly known this before me. I’m telling you this because so many people still don’t seem to understand. I’m not telling you this because I think you’re a slut, or should be a slut. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you need, or what you have access to. I’m surely not telling you this out of a desire to expose my private life to the internet. Writing this here means facing the judgment of some members of my family, some colleagues, and other people whose opinion of me matters. It means my ex will probably read this. It means I’ve left this out here for people to find in the future, possibly hurting my life in ways I can’t predict. Surely some of you reading this now will mock me, or criticize me, or give me uninvited advice because you feel like you now know me, or take this as an invitation to hit on me. (Hint: IT’S NOT.)

I’m telling you this because juries still think women who even look like they might possibly be sluts are “asking for it.” I’m telling you this because some people still think it’s OK to drive a teenage girl to suicide because she was probably a slut. I’m telling you this because our policymakers would rather girls get sometimes-fatal diseases than be perceived as condoning sluthood. I’m telling you this because it’s important for everyone to understand: Sluthood isn’t a disease, or a wrong path, or a trend that’s ruining our youth. It isn’t just for detached, unemotional women who “fuck like men,” (as if that actually meant something), consequences be damned. It isn’t ever inevitable that sluthood should inspire violence or shame. Sluthood isn’t just a choice we should let women make because women should be free to make even “bad” choices. It’s a choice we should all have access to because it has the potential to be liberating. Healing. Soul-fulfilling. I’m telling you this because sluthood saved me, in a small but life-altering way, and I want it to be available to you if you ever think it could save you, too. Or if you want it for any other reason at all. And because even if you don’t ever want sluthood for yourself, you’re going to be called upon to support a slut. I’m telling you this because when that happens, I want you to say yes.

On adulthood

2010-08-27T23:02:00.354+08:00

Our world is often too eager to place children on a high pedestal, a heavenly position perched on the most amazing precipice conjured by our limited imagination to ever grace our humble earthly residence - these small, stumbling bundles of budding life, we poetically muse while sentimentally suspending our cynicism, are brilliant beacons of pristine innocence in a gloomy universe inhabited by wearied adults brutally aged by the hostile vicissitudes of life, by people who helplessly carry weathered hearts in their sunken chests, those blood-pumping organs with their wearied ventricles and atria of labyrinthine recesses of dusty memories, those chambers of emotions that are so full of sorrowful vagaries. Children hearken back to our most primal state of existence, we like to softly sing, to our most unsullied human condition of purity; children are little universes of innocence in themselves, and we are refugees desperate to escape, even if only temporally, from the worldly woes that betide us so naggingly. Children are thus widely celebrated - oh those untainted tabulae rasae, may they bloom eternally in such endearing guilelessness, though sadly one day they shall too be unlovable adults, irreparably contaminated by germs of artificial socialisation and natural caprices, and they shall too regrettably surrender their sweetness.

But there is really nothing intrinsically precious about being completely blank slates. If anything, I think adults are doubtless more deserving of our steadfast love, protection and (scientific) interest, because their arrival in our lives is frequently messily packaged with multiple facets - numerous qualities that make them hideously ugly or astoundingly wonderful, or sculpt them spontaneously into fascinating embodiments of striking ambivalence - that truly require our patient navigation, tireless exploration and, sometimes, loving understanding. Adults have scars left behind by past injuries and countless love-bites; they have unique stories of regret and tales of pride; they have personal baggages and different epiphanies. An adult's life becomes a beautifully chaotic palimpsest as he gains more life experiences that influence his perspectives, as he gets deeply damaged and then eventually healed again - he transforms, sometimes magically, into a yellowed manuscript on which the shifting sands and unstoppable tides of time have penned their lovely poetry.

When two adults fortuitously meet and fall in love, they diligently attempt to merge the incomplete verses they have respectively heretofore authored, in the laudable hope of penning an unforgettable story together - in the happiest scenario, they are able to jointly produce a masterful work of artistic perfection by nicely adjusting to each other's various stylistic and content-related demands, and a timeless composition is triumphantly finished; in a less joyous case, they bid farewell due to irreconcilable differences, and gradually saunter on - perhaps with some visible traces of this brief romantic encounter indelibly engraved on their individual slates, perhaps with obvious signs of erasure to remove all trails of the other person's sojourn in their lives - as they seek to properly honour their lives with careful conclusions, born either of their own solitary introspection or of collaborative partnership with new visitors in their lives who fortunately turn out to be the ones they've endlessly sought. Some, however, may choose mark their ephemeral voyages in this corporeal world by allowing their disorganised manuscripts to remain in spectacular disarray, and there is no less meaning in such an eccentric decision.

We tumble and flounder and blunder along the bumpy route to adulthood, and on our deathbeds we quietly whisper au revoir as we inevitably dissolve, as grey specks of ashes, into the magnanimous embrace of the smiling cosmos, blissfully dying with much more capacity to love, to hate and to be indifferent than we could ever genuinely possess as children.

All the time, we get by, trying to figure out our lives

2010-08-26T18:31:00.004+08:00

Dear readers, please accept my profuse apologies for the recent dearth of updates. I am keenly aware that it is very unhealthy to let my blog stagnate for too excessive a length of time, for it would eventually erode every modicum of momentum and desire to even embark on any kind of writing, and in order to fill the void, I have decided to pen an entry on what I look for in a romantic partner. In this entry it is unavoidable that I also write about my expectations of a non-platonic relationship. If two people want the same things in a union, chances are that their personalities are highly compatible with each other's.

I shall pretend that all my loyal readers out there are secretly hopelessly in love with me (if you are still visiting this place despite the vast emptiness that has lately engulfed it, you truly deserve a medal for your undying faithfulness, which I shall dogmatically insist is an indication of your unwavering profound love for me) and are therefore all tremendously interested in learning more about my tastes in men, in the hope that you would perfectly fit my criteria. So please kindly mentally process the following checklist, and see if you meet my requirements. If you do, feel free to send me an affectionate email with your curriculum vitae once I am back on the dating market. Shortlisted candidates will be duly informed, and then strict interviews will be carried out over several meetings for me to assess your suitability while you evaluate mine. Here is a caveat: I do not believe in online dating, so we'll definitely have to meet. I'm prefer taking things slow, so I would certainly object to entering a relationship before a reasonably solid foundation of friendship is established.

By the way, I shall focus solely on non-physical traits in this entry. When it comes to appearance, insofar as you do not look aesthetically unpleasant - i.e., it is not entirely difficult or impossible for you to sexually arouse me - you officially pass the test. I am being extremely lenient here. If you bear any resemblance to Michael Jackson (after doses of plastic surgery) or William Hung (as he is now, without plastic surgery), please keep your distance for I would never, ever want to touch you with a ten-foot pole. This also applies if you are obsessed with extreme body modifications or if you have exceedingly many tattoos - personally I do not find people like you sexy at all, and I'd rather get a dildo if I'm very desperate.

Anyway, enough of my verbose preamble. When it comes to relationships, I want to commit myself for the long haul. So if you are only interested in a brief fling or in short-term dating to kill the time, then please heed my polite advice to seek elsewhere. I believe in love (though I think that the sanctity of this word has sadly been squandered by excessive use) but not in marriage - personally I do not see any purpose in getting married except to be entitled to certain practical benefits; e.g., if my future employer is willing to offer free medical insurance for my spouse, then I'd get married just so that my partner can gain tangibly from the legal union.

I think that people who are truly in love do not need a piece of paper to show for it - marriage is a socially constructed institution to which I see no need to morally conform simply for the sake of it; I do not crave the social recognition that is concomitant with obtaining a state-approved marriage certificate. But if marriage means a lot to you - not because you are a conservative person who assigns unwarranted sacrosanct weight to the notion, but because it somehow makes you emotionally complete, compensating for a glaring gap that was left behind by a past trauma, a faded wound or perhaps even just natural design; and because it serves as an immovable anchor in an universe of woeful transience and endless flux, offering you emotional comfort and clarity - then I would marry you if you ask, if it would provide you with that long-awaited sense of security after which you have constantly sought. The only condition is that you must not see my indifference towards marriage as an indication of my lack of commitment, for it betrays a fundamental want of trust which I would find very hurtful. In addition, I would genuinely prefer not to engage in an elaborate wedding ceremony to commemorate the occasion - I dread the drudgery and tedium that usually accompany the planning of such social events, and I hate entertaining guests with their effusive words of congratulations. I would like to just take a trip to City Hall, sign the legal papers, and keep the affair quiet between the two of us, unsurrounded by noise, a cherished memory that would be consecrated by the passage of time into something untainted by the distracting presence of others.

While marriage is something I would consent to if it holds significant meaning for my beloved, I would never compromise on the issue of childbearing. I have completely no wish to bear/raise my own children, and I am adamant about my decision to remain childless. I really do not want to put my own body through such intense suffering just to bring a new individual into a world in which I think it is increasingly difficult to live, and raising a child requires an immense amount of money, time and effort which I am unsure I'd be ready to invest. Should I accidentally become pregnant, I would not hesitate to abort the foetus, for I do not deem abortion to be an immoral act, as I do not consider a foetus to be a moral patient. I seriously don't give two hoots about ensuring the longevity of humanity; in fact, I think our exhausted planet would profit greatly from a hugely reduced human population. I consider it one small way of repaying my enormous debts to the Earth, which has nurtured me with such astounding generosity and blessed me with the wonderful sight of so much inimitable splendour. Allow me to briefly digress: ideally my partner should share my curiousity about nature, and be equally enamoured of the wilderness. He should be able to appreciate the beauty in the diversity of life and to empathise with their suffering, and to savour the tranquility derived from being alone in the embrace of the pristine country.

Anyway, it is not a straightforward deal-breaker for me if you have your own children from previous marriages or relationships. Once we become a couple, I would treat your children as if they are my own.

I would like someone who is fully able to invest absolute trust in me. Most of my closer friends are males, and I would be deeply grateful if my partner is comfortable with the fact that I often hang out with members of the opposite sex. It would also be really awesome if my partner allows me to travel alone, without chaperone, with other male friends, if such a trip should ever one day materialise. In a relationship, I have a strong tendency to mirror how my partner treats me; the more confidence you have in me, the more I would relish the burden bestowed upon me - the sweet responsibility to reciprocate your love (which needs no assurance) by remaining steadfastly faithful - by your silent vote of faith. My heart would be more compelled and more willing than ever to stay true to you, because you deserve nothing but the best from me. Similarly, I would demonstrate the same degree of trust in you. In fact, I wouldn't even mind if you partake in some benign flirting with female friends, insofar as it does not accelerate into something remotely sexual or romantic. In the event that it does advance to a stage that unambiguously borders on or involves cheating, I would expect you to have enough basic human decency to honestly inform me. I may choose to forgive you if you are sincerely repentant, because I know that sometimes even good people make horrible mistakes, and if there are mitigating circumstances, I would try to give our relationship another chance. And even if you don't love me as your girlfriend anymore, I hope you'd still have enough love for me as a fellow human being to do me the favour of telling me the truth, instead of keeping me in the dark for eternity. As rational creatures, we deserve nothing less than the unembellished truth.

I don't think chivalry is necessary either. If both parties in a relationship are earning roughly the same wages, then it would be unreasonable to expect the male to always pay when dating. An occasional treat or two would certainly be very nice, but they are not strictly compulsory. I want someone who isn't so incorrigibly consumed by his masculine ego that he always feels a compulsion to pay for everything as a display of machismo. Women have been emancipated from destitution and deprivation for decades, so men should graciously allow us to contribute fruitfully to the activity of dating. (Men should also try to shun girls who think it is their natural birthright to not fork out a single cent when going out with males even though they are earning somewhat healthy salaries.)

However, in a relationship, I would expect the party who is physically/emotionally/financially stronger to take the initiative to protect the weaker one. This shouldn't be understood along sexist lines - it is purely a most indisputable expression of affection to want to shield a vulnerable loved one from any kind of injury. If I had the physical build of Mike Tyson, I would definitely not hesitate to send my partner home when the hours are late, just so that I could hopefully minimise any kind of potential harm to his bodily well-being. If I earn a lot more than my partner, I would not mind shouldering a notably bigger portion of our shared financial obligations.

I want someone who has intellectual curiousity and integrity - someone who isn't afraid to question his own beliefs when they are contradicted by newly discovered facts or by logical strands of reasoning, who is never easily contented with what he already knows, who is never daunted by the task of revising his system of convictions so as to render it internally consistent (if it isn't already), who has the most profound respect for truths, and who is able to rid himself of as much bias as possible when contemplating a position that threatens to subvert his own. I want someone who has the capacity for objectivity, who firmly upholds the highest standards of epistemological investigations, and who has the courage to challenge even my most deep-seated views, even though sometimes I may react really ungraciously (I blush to confess!) in shameful bouts of intellectual panic. I want a man who sees me as an equal, rather than as someone too intimidating to confront or too limited to learn.

It is inevitable for a couple to quarrel. If I am the one in the wrong and if I fail to see my own flaws, I want my partner to explain to me why I am at fault, and why I should apologise. I am seeking a soulmate and not a serf, so I would neither expect nor approve of obsequious behaviour. Unfortunately I am quite emotionally volatile sometimes (this is an unattractive shortcoming which I've been reminding myself to get rid of, albeit to embarrassingly little success so far), so I am afraid only a generally patient and mild-tempered person can tolerate me.

I want someone who always keeps his promises. If you lack the confidence to accomplish something, there is no shame in sharing your nagging doubts with me, or in acknowledging your own limitations. What I detest is making a promise you aren't sure if you can actually keep, or making conflicting promises to different people. Only promise something when you can definitely see it through. Making promises indiscriminately is nothing honourable; it is evidence for a shortage of wisdom.

I want someone who isn't religious, who doesn't believe that humans are in desperate need of redemption or salvation. Positing the existence of a higher being to artificially imbue life with meaning is inherently self-defeating - how meaningful is life, when right and wrong are wholly determined by God's fiat, when we are but products of a higher being's whims, nothing but sheer playthings? Religion, like marriage, is another social construct created to dictate to us how we should organise our lives. We don't need to live our lives pandering to a supernatural authority in the hope of eventually being rescued; we need to be free(d). The fact that life may be bereft of meaning does not make the sensations you presently experience any less real or precious. Inasmuch as you gain utility from it, it does not matter if life is ultimately meaningful. Furthermore, is purpose not what we should create for ourselves out of volition, instead of being handed to us? Sometimes we need to stop searching for answers and to start living, and to learn to live harmoniously with the gentle stoicism of the universe. If you are deeply religious, then it just shows that there is too much disparity between our respective outlooks in life, and I am not exactly sure if we can develop a successful relationship despite such a glaring difference, which could result in an insurmountable, yawning distance between us. (But we could try if we are sufficiently drawn to each other.)

I want someone who harbours a heartfelt feeling of deference to the rationality and the autonomy of man, who understands that what defines us as human beings is precisely our ability to consent to all kinds of actions and contracts (assuming that we possess the full knowledge of what our decisions would entail), even if we would end up causing ourselves much agony and misery. Life has but extrinsic value; like money, it is an instrument that furnishes us with an opportunity to obtain what we covet in life. Once an individual, in moments of clear sobriety with his mental faculties satisfactorily intact, concludes that there is nothing more that can be gained through living, it is entirely up to him to decide the fashion in which to depart; and if it involves dying in the hands of another person who is agreeable to providing his aid in this suicidal project, then that is how things should be administered, with no interference from external parties. A man who respects his human comrades as rational beings would refrain from meddling with their private affairs; neither would he undertake any action without the express permission of those who would be severely affected by it.

I want someone with an occasionally wicked and immature sense of humour, who sometimes derives childish joy from performing trivial acts of transgression, who understands that there is no enjoyment in always taking life too seriously, who knows very well that self-righteousness and moralistic living are two significant sources of endless anger and lethargy. I want someone who understands that life is evanescent and who thus shares my passion for epicurean pleasures. Inasmuch as we do not knowingly cause grievous hurt to other people in life, we should be free to live however we want.

I know it is awfully hard to find anyone who meets all the criteria, so I would gladly settle for anyone who approximates the image painted above. But then again I'm currently unavailable on the market, so if you possess all these qualities and happen to be unattached if I ever return to singlehood, remember to drop me an email to ask for an interview if you are interested. It doesn't matter what your race is, and I'm really okay with dating men not more than 30 years older than me.

Updating for the sake of updating

2010-08-05T14:40:00.002+08:00

I've added a new link to my sidebar which leads to a playlist I created, consisting of some of my favourite music. The list will be updated from time to time. It is quite unfortunate that I cannot embed the playlist on my blog so that music can be streamed here directly. Anyway, if you have any nice music to recommend, please feel free to send me an email or drop a comment. There are certain kinds of music which I absolutely detest though, so don't bother recommending songs that belong to any of these genres: 1) trance, 2) hip hop, 3) Korean pop or 4) heavy metal. I generally dislike rap as well, but if you manage to find rap songs which are somewhat similar to Eminem's 'Mockingbird', then please share them with me too. Thanks.

A video of beauty and horror

2010-07-28T00:26:00.001+08:00

The Trees and the Wild

2010-07-19T00:00:00.001+08:00

I love their band name. It evokes a powerful image of pristine nature in all its lovely eccentricities, of boundless forests and happy trees thriving in absolute freedom, of being mercifully drowned in a vast sea of unbroken wilderness, completely untouched by civilisation, bereft of humanity, in all its wordless splendour and poetic grandeur. It reminds you of just how insignificant and evanescent human life really is - nature has been here for innumerable years, and in contrast we will all eventually fade away just too soon - and instead of existential terror, all you really feel is this tranquil sense of calmness and immense peace.

It is a very fitting name for the band - their enchantingly whimsical, hauntingly addictive tunes, with the female's otherworldly wailing and occasionally breathless singing, arouses the fatigued heart to quietly contemplate the vagaries and transience of life, while drowning in a world blissfully inundated with mesmerising music.

The Pub Owner

2010-07-18T19:00:00.012+08:00

Met up with The Philistine and The Journalist for a very enjoyable dinner on Friday. The Journalist has just returned from his stay in the United States, and he has put on weight during his 6-month respite from Singapore. I suppose this is quite an inevitable change, considering how unbelievably gigantic the portions of greasy food served in that country usually are.

After which they brought me to visit The Pub Owner, with whom I used to chat online quite long ago, at his pub located in Dhoby Ghaut. Business was excellent for him; the place was almost filled to the brim with boisterous groups of expatriates, while some other customers sat outdoors to enjoy the balmy streams of breezes that traipse aimlessly through the city at night. The Pub Owner is an intellectual man who is very engaging in conversations, sharing his ideas in a pleasantly assertive manner. He was also somewhat effusive in showering praise on me as he recalled our virtual tête-à-têtes, making me quite embarrassed and I was usually not too adept at dealing with such unreserved compliments. He said he really liked the way I articulated my points when making arguments, but unfortunately it has been a really long while since we last spoke online since he has been extremely busy managing his pub, and now he is opening a new restaurant as well. Congratulations to him; I hope his business will prosper wonderfully.

The television screen in his pub was showing a re-run of the World Cup match between Spain and Chile, and for a few fleeting moments my attention was drawn to it in an attempt to relieve the vaguely nagging sense of dispossession I've felt since the end of the tournament, inspiring The Pub Owner to express his own insights on sports. He passionately argued that there shouldn't be ranking systems in sports, because it utterly corrupts the character of the entire sporting enterprise, whose quintessential purpose, he said, is to celebrate the strength of human spirit. Sports highlights our vulnerability and the sheer beauty of our inescapable interdependence; no man is an isolated island; nobody would be motivated to break records if there weren't any fear of falling behind - a fear that is constantly supplied by the athlete who is immediately behind you and who is perennially threatening to surpass you. Why do we accord so much approbation to the athletes who emerge victorious, even when they triumph without eclipsing their own best performances? Why do we always fail to applaud the unsung, silent heroes who are ranked behind the champion, for, without their existence, the champion may not have felt sufficiently driven to shape himself into a winner in the first place? Why do we always neglect to honour the lower-ranking sportsmen, who may have broken their own personal records - for they have obviously displayed admirably dogged perseverance and a veritable desire for self-improvement - though they are still unfortunately not good enough to bag the top prize? Shouldn't sports really be about recognising laudable individual efforts to challenge one's own physical boundaries, rather than just elevating one person to a position on a pedestal at the expense of others, whose hard work is sadly belittled by our indifference? After articulating these questions in an unstoppable flourish, The Pub Owner concluded that ranking systems pervert sports and hinders our ability to truly appreciate sports in its unadulterated allure - its exaltation of our common bond, of our raw energy, of our indefatigable spirit, of our fundamental humanity.

The Pub Owner is a highly interesting character - he was a Jehovah's Witness, but he eventually reached the age of reason and became an atheist. He was telling us about this annual event called The Amazing Meeting (TAM), where all skeptics gather and interact with one another. He said it was an absolutely ineffable feeling to be surrounded by so many like-minded people from different corners of the globe, who can grasp all the things unsaid, who don't require you to endlessly explain yourself, who never judge you. He met a few magicians when he took part in TAM last year, and he commented that magicians are by nature extremely skeptical, because they have a perfect understanding of how illusions work, how our preconceived notions often act as a dark veil over our eyes and impede us from discovering the truth, and how our minds, steeped in countless years of conventional knowledge and wisdom, can irreversibly distance us from the simplest realities that would reveal the mechanisms behind their visual legerdemain, their dexterous sleights of hand. Or perhaps they are magicians precisely because they are always situated in a skeptical frame of mind, a requisite trait that all magicians should possess.

Speaking of magicians, I encourage everyone to watch this show titled Breaking the Magician's Code, which is currently aired every Sunday at 10p.m. on Channel 5. I'm quite proud of myself that I actually managed to figure out how some of the featured magic tricks were accomplished. Since young, magic has always had the power to deeply fascinate, to buoy me in a ethereal cloud of enraptured confusion. Now that I am much older, magic still holds the same hypnotic sway over me; I willingly suspend all my disbelief when watching magic performances, allowing myself to immerse in a fictional world in which physical laws are miraculously defied, naïvely believing, just for a moment, that humans were invincible. And after every trick, I would commit myself to thinking and deciphering the hieroglyphics of magic. This show offers me those long-awaited moments of revelation, and almost nothing else comes close to the elated rush of sweet satisfaction I get when I realise that I have succeeded in seeing through, at least in part (if not in whole), the thick miasma of deception - an occasion that marks a tiny, trivial victory, that really only a small feeling of joyful pride can adequately consecrate.

I highly recommend RSA Animate

2010-07-16T01:13:00.002+08:00

Here are just two videos:

Stornoway - the British equivalent of Fleet Foxes

2010-07-14T02:01:00.006+08:00

The lead singer's limpid voice, soothing in its unsullied country charm, possesses a gentle penetrating force which suffuses the morning summer skies with the rustic watercolour hues of introspective silence and soulful melancholy.

Stornoway's music transports its listeners into a profoundly peaceful, carefree realm, recalling a most heartfelt state of genuine contentment, and, just for a little while, magically makes the lightness of being somewhat more bearable.

Sehr traurig... :(

2010-07-08T04:39:00.005+08:00

[Update on 11 July 2010 at 1.57a.m.: Germany, please don't feel discouraged about your loss in the semi-final and fight for 3rd place later! I know no one really gives a damn about the play-off for the 3rd place, but I'll still be watching the match later anyway. Hopefully Lahm & co. have all recovered from flu, and all the best to Klose in his mission to equal/surpass Ronaldo's record of 15 World Cup goals! Deutschland, ich liebe Sie!]

Deutschland, ich bin völlig deprimiert, ich weinte fast... Aber Sie werden immer in meinen Augen der beste sein!

Ich liebe Deutschland

2010-07-05T18:25:00.001+08:00

Deutschland, töten Sie Spanien am Donnerstag!

Für Deutschland

2010-06-28T18:31:00.001+08:00

ARGENTINA VS GERMANY ON 3 JULY:
Lieber Deutschland, werde ich Sie unterstützen!

I wish I were born a German

2010-06-28T00:03:00.010+08:00

What a beautiful victory against England! I'm absolutely in love with the German football team - its performance just now was splendidly thrilling. Inimitable teamwork (the Germans probably have the most respectable team spirit I've seen so far), tireless and well-coordinated attacks, amazing physical fitness, admirable pass accuracy, great mental fortitude, wonderful composure, stylish tempo, intelligent strategy, quick reactions - the German style was highly efficient, and yet very innovative and extremely fluid. Even if Lampard weren't robbed, Germany would still have won.

One might argue that the game would've embarked on a different route had England been awarded the equaliser, but I do not think that it is a strong excuse. The English players are significantly more experienced, so they really should've dealt coolly with the disappointment instead of allowing themselves to be discouraged. But all we saw in the second half was a mentally tired and physically exhausted English team. I would think that an injustice would invigorate human minds and inspire dogged retaliation as much as a victory, so I honestly don't think that England's fairly lackluster performance in the second half can be justified, especially when considering the fact that the English players have undergone more trials and tribulations on the international stage than their younger German opponents. With so much young talent, Germany definitely has nothing to worry about for the next World Cup.

Germany will have to quickly improve its defence though. Germany is traditionally extremely stalwart when it comes to defence, but as its performances in this year's World Cup have shown so far, its defence can get really leaky at times, allowing their enemies to penetrate.

Argentina vs Mexico later - I wonder how Argentina would fare.

[Update: It's very nice of Gerrard to be so gracious in conceding defeat. Hopefully England's fans will behave the same.]

Portugal!

2010-06-21T21:24:00.005+08:00

Portugal's performance today is probably the most beautiful I've seen so far in this World Cup. I'm now a convert; Portugal - along with Germany and Argentina - has my support for the rest of this tournament. Perfect coordination, impeccable timing, unstoppable attacks, competent defence, elegant strikes, spectacular passes, amazing chemistry among the players, good strategy, creative improvisation, and complete flawlessness for 90 minutes. Everything was delightfully crafted and simply divine - the Portuguese were more than athletes today; they were artists. Quoting the commentator, "Who wouldn't fall in love with football like this?"

I can't wait for the match between Portugal and Brazil. Chances are extremely good that Portugal will win.

Lost: Season 5

2010-06-16T00:06:00.008+08:00

I detest the fifth season of Lost with a furious passion. The awful lackluster quality of this season makes the franchise a prime example of how television shows that usually begin with so much promise often suffer the depressing outcome of degenerating into a messy, unsightly morass of gibberish due to its producers' eagerness to milk their concepts with such indiscriminate abandon that interesting stories eventually become the pitiful victims of their own creators.

I don't know what to make of its ending yet - whether it is designed that way so that alternate realities can be explored in Season 6 (which I haven't begun watching - I'm behind times; I know, I know) or whether it heralds an immense shift in the course of history; but if it is the latter, then I think that the show's vision of time travel is logically flawed. If they truly managed to affect past events, then their plane would never have crashed in the first place - and that would not have led to their later return to the island, which means they could not have done what they did to shift the route of history, and that, in turn, necessitates that they would be in a plane crash after all, ad infinitum.

Perhaps one would attempt to resolve this glaring problem by making the same suggestion as my friend did: the characters prevented the occurrence of that particularly crucial incident - which would cause their plane to severely malfunction - in a completely parallel world, which had hitherto been wholly identical to the universe presented in previous seasons, and which would otherwise have continued to unfold in exactly the same fashion, if not for the intervening actions of the characters. This solution would also mean those characters were very suddenly transplanted into the parallel realm - it would be utterly appropriate to think of them as aliens, materialising from nowhere, who shared human properties.

It is really not an uneducated proposal, but I do not think it is a good defence of the plausibility of the plot - if I am correctly informed, causal relations cannot hold across parallel galaxies, i.e., when the characters boarded the flight to go back to the mysterious island, they could not possibly have ended up in a different universe. Even if my knowledge of Physics proves to be embarrassingly wrong, another counter-argument can be launched by making references to the show itself - let us grant that the characters in Lost ended up in a parallel world when they decided to revisit the island. The invocation of parallel universes is supposed to render intelligible the idea of re-authoring the past, but its purpose is unfortunately defeated when we consider the fact that Sun would not have seen the group photo taken thirty years ago by her friends in the present if the other characters had indeed modified history in a parallel cosmos. I am quite afraid that my counter-argument can probably only be adequately understood by viewers who have already watched the fifth season.

Anyway, kindly allow me to move on.

Another major gripe I have is with the implications entailed by the introduction of time travel - because of this plot device, the actions of the characters were no longer autonomous; they did what they did not because they genuinely wanted to, but because they really had no other option. Their future sauntered back into the past, which had already happened, and there was simply no way they could have successfully erased and rewritten the events in history. The metaphysical impossibility of changing the past unavoidably ended up compromising the integrity of the characters' conduct - the set-up in Lost brought about the inexorable consequence that time moved unstoppably in an immutable course, and it was precisely for this reason that the agents' behaviour became absolutely bereft of meaning - the characters were actually just waiting passively for things to occur even though they might have felt like they were freely acting out of their own volition; their deeds were dictated to them, their destiny foisted upon them, though they might have bought into the attractive, seductive illusion of possessing free will.

Their future was already fully determined; everything was inalterably preordained, destined, irresistible, unchangeable. The nature of such a state of affairs robbed them of their free will and negated the beauty of serendipity - coincidences became kismet; luck became fate. And that was the most unbearable thing, to me, about the fifth season of Lost.

Sayid Jallah

2010-06-13T15:56:00.004+08:00

To be so fragilely human, to be the perfect embodiment of the poetic struggle between our rationality and our morality, to have your life heretofore dominated by haunting memories and persistent dreams of your checkered history - a past starkly defined by firmly doing what had to be done, despite the painful self-accusations which you clearly knew would later follow relentlessly. Sometimes to get the real answers one needs to resort to violence, sometimes one's head and one's conscience are in irreconcilable conflict, sometimes the whispering ghosts and the phantasmagorial shadows of footfalls colour your fitful sleep, painful self-condemnations manifested in the shapes of old victims. The choice was never easy - to know most acutely what was wrong but perform it anyway, or to sacrifice the ardent quest for truths - and your depression made you breathtakingly beautiful to me. Decades would slowly fade and you would eventually pass away, but still adrift in the dark room in the isolated and abandoned hatch, where you sought your answers by drawing blood, would be meandering reverberations of your quiet voice, lingering echoes of your sorrowful utterance, soaked in the undisturbed rivers of time, My name is Sayid Jallah, and I am a torturer.

Old Partner

2010-06-12T22:13:00.013+08:00

Watched a Korean film titled Old Partner at The Arts House today. If you have masochistic tendencies and would not mind sitting through 79 minutes of utter boredom, then this is definitely the ideal film for you. Many times throughout the show I felt an overwhelming urge to doze off, but, much to my own amazement, I actually managed to marshal incredible willpower and compel myself to stay wide awake in the futile hope that there would eventually be sparks of brilliance that would perhaps redeem the entire show from complete worthlessness. Unsurprisingly, this hope was left lamely unfulfilled, as the whole movie was basically occupied with annoyingly incessant - though not totally unwarranted - complaints by the old man's wife about her husband's unyielding obsession with work as well as dull repetitive scenes of the old man torturing his poor wife and his aged ox (both reduced to unsightly miserable bags of bones) with endless chores and nary a modicum of material comfort. What appeared to be sacrifices made selflessly in the interests of the faithful ox turned out to be pragmatic decisions made for the goal of maximising the practical utility of the pitiful creature, and I simply failed to see any touching elements in the show. All I felt was incensed grief for the sad ox, an honest, uncomplaining animal that quietly gave its life away; that had to suffer the indignity and sorrow which came with the devastating knowledge that its master wanted to sell it despite decades of its loving labour and unwavering devotion. I harboured much sympathy for the unfortunate ox, its silhouette basked in melancholic solitude against the silent backdrop of the mellow sunset, as it slowly and painfully dragged heavy carts of firewood back to its master's place, loyal to the purpose of furnishing others with the warmth which he probably never experienced in his ill-fated life. Human cruelty was yet again unequivocally underscored.

Another thing I intensely disliked about the show was how it was too unabashedly focused on telling, instead of employing the more subtle (and thus tricky) device of showing - one prime example was the scene in which the old man's children were sitting around the dinner table during their visit, and one of them uttered something along the following lines, as if scripted specially for the camera (even though she appeared - though not too convincingly to me - unconcerned about the presence of the crew), "My father has 9 children, and all of us are very worried about his health. The money invested in our education was earned through the ox's labour - it is so old now, and we are humbled by its service. The only way to make him stop working would be to sell the ox - Dad, please, it is time that you sell the ox. We will give you money." This movie epitomises the essence of plain, linear narration without the sophisticated use of clever cinematic subterfuges and symbolism. Considering that it is being screened at The Arts House, one would expect it to possess some aesthetic merit in order to truly qualify itself an artistic venture. However, it is quite obviously bereft of masterful touches.

The show was also somewhat fraught with inconsistencies - e.g., after reading the previous paragraph, you would think that the old man's children were all very filial and caring towards their parents. But this was unambiguously contradicted by the old man's wife in a much earlier scene, in which she wondered aloud about the worrying uncertainty of her life should her husband pass away before she did, for none of her children would take her in - at least not without much reluctance.

My friend pointed out that the film's redeeming quality was its truthful portrayal of the pastoral lifestyle - indeed, it was quite refreshing to be immersed in an atmosphere so drastically different from the ambience that surrounds urban landscapes - but I do not think that such a characteristic salvages the show from being an unpolished monstrosity. Surely life in rural regions can be depicted more tastefully in an infinitely more entertaining fashion. Give a camcorder to a middle school student who is untrained in film studies and make him do a video project on the countryside, and the end result would certainly approximate this movie. It would very likely receive an A as a school assignment, but it is undeniably not good enough to be screened in The Arts House. In short, it is an amateurish piece of product whose only praise-worthy trait is its reticent sincerity.

Verdict: 2 points out of 10.

Singaporeans are not more discerning than North Koreans after all

2010-03-29T12:04:00.001+08:00

Singaporeans are not more discerning than North Koreans after all
Published on 28 March 2010 on Temasek Review

Dear Rachel,

I refer to your Straits Times article dated 11 Dec 2009 which detailed the work of Mr John Kampfner. It began with a question posed by Mr Kampfner on why educated people are willing to hand over their freedoms in exchange for prosperity and security. In the case of Singapore, the answer is invariably ignorance.

Generations of Singaporeans have been sold to the idea that our prosperity comes from our brilliant PAP government without which there would have been no prosperous Singapore. Singaporeans believe this to their bones and will not give up the PAP for fear of losing their prosperity. Little do they realise that the key ingredients to our prosperity have little to do with the PAP.

The world renowned success formula of embracing foreign direct investments was not conjured by the PAP but was gifted to us by Dr Albert Winsemius, an economic advisor sent to us by the United Nations. A well oiled civil service and robust institutions were British inheritances along with the inheritance of a hard working population of largely East Asian descent.

One cannot disagree that Singapore was already a prosperous city and one of the crown jewels in the British Empire long before the PAP came about. We were also amongst the top in Asia in terms of per capita GDP prior to our self-rule and independence. But this side of the Singapore story has become less common place now. In its place is the often touted but rarely questioned rhetoric of the PAP led success.

Mr Kampfner rightly saw that free markets can exist within a not so free political environment while the response by our High Commissioner fails to address the crux of the issue. Saying that the true test of what works comes from the real world doesn’t say anything about what else might work or what really is the reason behind why it works.

Singapore has worked but that does not mean that Singapore would not have worked had it been governed in another way. For if we were to strip away Singapore’s authoritarianism, what remains would simply be another Hong Kong which has proven to be just as successful.

So there’s a lot that Singaporeans don’t understand, contrary to Mr Kampfner’s assertion that Singaporeans have entered these pacts with their eyes wide open. We may not be as blind as the North Koreans but we are certainly not as discerning as we ought to be. On the other hand, the Burmese people aren’t as blind as Mr Kampfner might think given their dislike for the military junta and their love for Aung Sang Su Kyi. There is very little choice for the Burmese people living in fear of the guns of their military junta.

The so-called Asian values espoused by MM Lee are really East Asian values. But do East Asians prefer collective well being over individualism? East Asians love to make money. But it’s hard to see East Asians working hard to make money for their countries rather than for themselves. Therefore, the most definitive characteristic of East Asians is individualistic rather than collectivist in nature. Do East Asians prefer social harmony over dissent? In the case of Singaporeans, more likely than not, it is not social harmony but personal safety that is being preferred over dissent.

The supposed irreconcilable difference amongst the various civilisations as propagated by Samuel Huntington is largely religious, not cultural in nature. If the East Asian cultures of Japan, Korea and Taiwan can become so affable with the Western culture of America, clearly culture is not the reason for the antagonism between the US and China?

That antagonism is probably more similar to the one between the former Soviet Union and the US. It is an antagonism between opposing political-military mights, not a clash of civilisations. The real clash of civilisations is between the Christian West and the Islamic Middle East, which is a conflict that has existed since the first Crusades nearly a thousand years ago.

The question by the Singaporean academic of whether an illiberal democracy is more stable cannot be answered without first qualifying the countries being compared.

If we compare similarly successful societies like Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Korea, then the answer is invariably no because despite the antics in the Taiwanese parliament and the strikes in Korea, the other three East Asian dragons have proven to be no less stable than us despite they being a lot more liberal.

If we were to compare third world African countries instead, the conclusion is the same. There is no evidence that an illiberal third world country is inherently more stable than one that is more liberal.

The ‘pact’ that Mr Kampfner so often see nowadays will not seem so bewildering if we can understand how modern democracies came about. All the defining moments of democracy from the Magna Carta and the English Civil War to the French and the American revolutions all involved some form of money struggle or struggle for material well being.

Democracy is rooted in people fighting for their fare share of material well being. As long as the nationwide surveillance and money laundering in Britain do not compromise the material well being of the British people, they will not become major issues. On the other hand, the numerous strikes in Britain goes to show that democracy as the means for demanding a fair share of material well being is still very much alive and kicking in Britain.

Finally, Mr Kampfner suggested that democracy may come when the state fails to deliver prosperity. That day nearly came for Singapore some years back when state bureaucrats failed to appreciate our over reliance on the electronics industry and were caught napping while electronics firms emigrated en masse to China. There were massive retrenchments along with a mad scramble to replace the lost firms with biomedical firms. The people tasted hardships but there was no revolution, no clamour for democracy.

This reminds us of North Korea where many children have died of starvation and yet the people remain rooted for the ruling Kim family. It wasn’t difficult to put the blame on climate just as it was easy to find a scapegoat for the recent North Korean currency revaluation crisis. And so it is with Singapore too that even if the state were to fail to deliver prosperity, state newspapers will always be there to explain things away. We may not be as blind as the North Koreans but we are not so discerning either.

Thank you.

Ng Kok Lim

Something to be said for Japan's gray zone

2010-03-15T12:00:00.001+08:00

Something to be said for Japan's gray zone
By KRIS KOSAKA
Special to The Japan Times
Published on 27 February 2010

It was an a-ha moment, an epiphany light-bolting across her face. It flickered with incredulous certainty and ended with awareness in her eyes.

We were watching Disney's "The Lion King." Scar, the evil brother-lion, mercilessly kills the lion king, gleefully watching him fall to his death during a stampede. I tracked the revelation tracing across her face — I waited, entranced and wondering. What had she realized?

"American bad guys are always bad," my 5-year-old daughter announced. "Japanese bad guys are only sometimes bad." She turned back to the screen and Scar's maniacal laugh.

Since I have seen "The Lion King" 216 times, I mused her divination for the duration of the movie. I knew what she meant — in Japanese animation, particularly our favorites by Hayao Miyazaki, most of the villains wear their evil with ambiguous flair. Think "Spirited Away," where the no-face ghost becomes friends with the main character Sen, or the bad-twin Yubaba shows signs of honor and kindness, while Zenibaba, the good twin, pursues her own justice with diabolical flair.

Disney villains putrefy 100 percent evil, in appearance, actions and voice. All of Miyazaki's films blur the good-evil divide, but even a casual glance at "Pokemon" or "Kamen Rider," two rather frothy kids' TV shows, illustrates the bad guys are not always so bad in Japanese culture.

A friend of mine insists this anti-dualistic perspective results from Japan's lack of a Christian culture, grows from the Shinto belief in many gods. Um. OK. But the tendrils of influence curl over many aspects in society, and there must be other reasons.

Ponder a recent variety show, when a famous celebrity disclosed his secret for subduing thieves: He openly leaves ¥60,000 downstairs, the idea being, the burglars can easily find the cash and leave happily, without disturbing or harming the family. My older Japanese friends did not find this advice surprising at all; indeed, most of them had heard of or tried similar tactics. Beautiful insanity, I thought.

Imagine a typical American reaction to a thief downstairs: frightening gun-supported showdowns, "get-out-of-my-house-scumbag" bluster, or at the minimum, a call to the police. An intruder is "bad" and deserves defeat in the United States, not a hand-out. Most of my friends, and all of my family, keep a weapon in the home for "emergencies," and not one of them lives in Texas. Another kind of insanity, to be sure, but why does Japan so often smudge the good/evil divide?

Typical Japanese sentiment seems to accept the shadier parts of our psyche, reminding me of Jung's many admonishments against suppressing the shadow side. In Japan, we literally thank the shadow for the sun, (O kagesama de), and much of Japanese common sense includes the silences, shady places, spaces most people politely ignore.

Certainly, gray tinges the landscape here partly because of pragmatic necessity. Love hotels, for example, grew out of a need for privacy in small, cramped houses typically sheltering more than one married couple. A small, isolated country cannot pronounce others an "axis of evil." It's not that Japanese sensibility proves more tolerant exactly, only more open about life's gray zones. In Japan, nothing seems as black and white as the inevitability of the shadow.

Something pricks in my memory, and sure enough, I pull from my bookshelf a forgotten copy of Junichiro Tanizaki's "In Praise of Shadows." Written in 1933, the essay illuminates Japanese thought on shadows, discussing everything from toilets to architecture to "curveless" Japanese women to electric light.

Tanizaki does offer a few suggestions for Japan's love of the shadow, but nothing particularly helps me understand some modern Japanese norms: witness the affectionate acceptance showered on Matsui Hideki's openly acknowledged pornography collection. It is hard to imagine a popular American celebrity cheerfully admitting to such a vice.

Or "Yonigeya" ("Flee by Night"), a moving company that specializes in midnight moves — as in avoiding your debtors, abandoning a marriage or business associate. OK, they don't exactly advertise in the yellow pages, but they are accepted enough to be featured in a Japanese drama.

Gray smears even steadfast rules of bureaucracy, and sucking teeth from a government official never means a clear yes or no, only an acknowledgment of inexactitude.

I have to be careful on the train in Japan, glancing down at a stranger's newspaper. I could easily glimpse a nude schoolgirl or other offensive photo, propped open on the lap of an innocent-looking salaryman sitting right in between a dozing grandmother and a pregnant mother. I have learned not to judge this salaryman.

In the West, certain things are labeled "wrong"; in Japan, it's not so clear. Perhaps Japan's wide swath of gray proves more honest and practical than a clear-cut avowal of wrong and right; perhaps the acceptance of so much gray allows blackness to creep into things once pure.

Maybe one thing in Tanizaki's essay does make the shadowed world clearer: He writes, "I suppose I shall sound terribly defensive if I say that Westerners attempt to expose every speck of grime and eradicate it, while we Orientals carefully preserve and even idealize it. Yet for better or for worse we do love things that bear the marks of grime, soot, and weather . . . "

Maybe this love of wabi-sabi extends to people as well; in general, we in the West value perfection and beauty, even in humanity. Japanese sensibility values something else. Right or wrong fades — who can argue a love for beauty, nor dismiss an appreciation for things burnished by time?

The thing about shadows, they disappear when illuminated. No one can ever provide a clear, bright answer. Some things are more interesting when unrevealed, and shadows can both shelter nightmares or dispel the ferocity of the sun.

Excellent speech by Sylvia Lim

2010-03-05T02:58:00.000+08:00

The brilliant Asimov

2010-02-09T21:54:00.003+08:00

The Relativity of Wrong
By Isaac Asimov
Published in The Skeptical Inquirer, Vol. 14 No. 1, Fall 1989

I RECEIVED a letter the other day. It was handwritten in crabbed penmanship so that it was very difficult to read. Nevertheless, I tried to make it out just in case it might prove to be important. In the first sentence, the writer told me he was majoring in English literature, but felt he needed to teach me science. (I sighed a bit, for I knew very few English Lit majors who are equipped to teach me science, but I am very aware of the vast state of my ignorance and I am prepared to learn as much as I can from anyone, so I read on.)

It seemed that in one of my innumerable essays, I had expressed a certain gladness at living in a century in which we finally got the basis of the universe straight.

I didn't go into detail in the matter, but what I meant was that we now know the basic rules governing the universe, together with the gravitational interrelationships of its gross components, as shown in the theory of relativity worked out between 1905 and 1916. We also know the basic rules governing the subatomic particles and their interrelationships, since these are very neatly described by the quantum theory worked out between 1900 and 1930. What's more, we have found that the galaxies and clusters of galaxies are the basic units of the physical universe, as discovered between 1920 and 1930.

These are all twentieth-century discoveries, you see.

The young specialist in English Lit, having quoted me, went on to lecture me severely on the fact that in every century people have thought they understood the universe at last, and in every century they were proved to be wrong. It follows that the one thing we can say about our modern "knowledge" is that it is wrong. The young man then quoted with approval what Socrates had said on learning that the Delphic oracle had proclaimed him the wisest man in Greece. "If I am the wisest man," said Socrates, "it is because I alone know that I know nothing." the implication was that I was very foolish because I was under the impression I knew a great deal.

My answer to him was, "John, when people thought the earth was flat, they were wrong. When people thought the earth was spherical, they were wrong. But if you think that thinking the earth is spherical is just as wrong as thinking the earth is flat, then your view is wronger than both of them put together."

The basic trouble, you see, is that people think that "right" and "wrong" are absolute; that everything that isn't perfectly and completely right is totally and equally wrong.

However, I don't think that's so. It seems to me that right and wrong are fuzzy concepts, and I will devote this essay to an explanation of why I think so.

... When my friend the English literature expert tells me that in every century scientists think they have worked out the universe and are always wrong, what I want to know is how wrong are they? Are they always wrong to the same degree? Let's take an example.

In the early days of civilization, the general feeling was that the earth was flat. This was not because people were stupid, or because they were intent on believing silly things. They felt it was flat on the basis of sound evidence. It was not just a matter of "That's how it looks," because the earth does not look flat. It looks chaotically bumpy, with hills, valleys, ravines, cliffs, and so on.

Of course there are plains where, over limited areas, the earth's surface does look fairly flat. One of those plains is in the Tigris-Euphrates area, where the first historical civilization (one with writing) developed, that of the Sumerians.

Perhaps it was the appearance of the plain that persuaded the clever Sumerians to accept the generalization that the earth was flat; that if you somehow evened out all the elevations and depressions, you would be left with flatness. Contributing to the notion may have been the fact that stretches of water (ponds and lakes) looked pretty flat on quiet days.

Another way of looking at it is to ask what is the "curvature" of the earth's surface. Over a considerable length, how much does the surface deviate (on the average) from perfect flatness? The flat-earth theory would make it seem that the surface doesn't deviate from flatness at all, that its curvature is 0 to the mile.

Nowadays, of course, we are taught that the flat-earth theory is wrong; that it is all wrong, terribly wrong, absolutely. But it isn't. The curvature of the earth is nearly 0 per mile, so that although the flat-earth theory is wrong, it happens to be nearly right. That's why the theory lasted so long.

There were reasons, to be sure, to find the flat-earth theory unsatisfactory and, about 350 B.C., the Greek philosopher Aristotle summarized them. First, certain stars disappeared beyond the Southern Hemisphere as one traveled north, and beyond the Northern Hemisphere as one traveled south. Second, the earth's shadow on the moon during a lunar eclipse was always the arc of a circle. Third, here on the earth itself, ships disappeared beyond the horizon hull-first in whatever direction they were traveling.

All three observations could not be reasonably explained if the earth's surface were flat, but could be explained by assuming the earth to be a sphere.

What's more, Aristotle believed that all solid matter tended to move toward a common center, and if solid matter did this, it would end up as a sphere. A given volume of matter is, on the average, closer to a common center if it is a sphere than if it is any other shape whatever.

About a century after Aristotle, the Greek philosopher Eratosthenes noted that the sun cast a shadow of different lengths at different latitudes (all the shadows would be the same length if the earth's surface were flat). From the difference in shadow length, he calculated the size of the earthly sphere and it turned out to be 25,000 miles in circumference.

The curvature of such a sphere is about 0.000126 per mile, a quantity very close to 0 per mile, as you can see, and one not easily measured by the techniques at the disposal of the ancients. The tiny difference between 0 and 0.000126 accounts for the fact that it took so long to pass from the flat earth to the spherical earth.

Mind you, even a tiny difference, such as that between 0 and 0.000126, can be extremely important. That difference mounts up. The earth cannot be mapped over large areas with any accuracy at all if the difference isn't taken into account and if the earth isn't considered a sphere rather than a flat surface. Long ocean voyages can't be undertaken with any reasonable way of locating one's own position in the ocean unless the earth is considered spherical rather than flat.

Furthermore, the flat earth presupposes the possibility of an infinite earth, or of the existence of an "end" to the surface. The spherical earth, however, postulates an earth that is both endless and yet finite, and it is the latter postulate that is consistent with all later findings.

So, although the flat-earth theory is only slightly wrong and is a credit to its inventors, all things considered, it is wrong enough to be discarded in favor of the spherical-earth theory.

And yet is the earth a sphere?

No, it is not a sphere; not in the strict mathematical sense. A sphere has certain mathematical properties - for instance, all diameters (that is, all straight lines that pass from one point on its surface, through the center, to another point on its surface) have the same length.

That, however, is not true of the earth. Various diameters of the earth differ in length.

What gave people the notion the earth wasn't a true sphere? To begin with, the sun and the moon have outlines that are perfect circles within the limits of measurement in the early days of the telescope. This is consistent with the supposition that the sun and the moon are perfectly spherical in shape.

However, when Jupiter and Saturn were observed by the first telescopic observers, it became quickly apparent that the outlines of those planets were not circles, but distinct eclipses. That meant that Jupiter and Saturn were not true spheres.

Isaac Newton, toward the end of the seventeenth century, showed that a massive body would form a sphere under the pull of gravitational forces (exactly as Aristotle had argued), but only if it were not rotating. If it were rotating, a centrifugal effect would be set up that would lift the body's substance against gravity, and this effect would be greater the closer to the equator you progressed. The effect would also be greater the more rapidly a spherical object rotated, and Jupiter and Saturn rotated very rapidly indeed.

The earth rotated much more slowly than Jupiter or Saturn so the effect should be smaller, but it should still be there. Actual measurements of the curvature of the earth were carried out in the eighteenth century and Newton was proved correct.

The earth has an equatorial bulge, in other words. It is flattened at the poles. It is an "oblate spheroid" rather than a sphere. This means that the various diameters of the earth differ in length. The longest diameters are any of those that stretch from one point on the equator to an opposite point on the equator. This "equatorial diameter" is 12,755 kilometers (7,927 miles). The shortest diameter is from the North Pole to the South Pole and this "polar diameter" is 12,711 kilometers (7,900 miles).

The difference between the longest and shortest diameters is 44 kilometers (27 miles), and that means that the "oblateness" of the earth (its departure from true sphericity) is 44/12755, or 0.0034. This amounts to l/3 of 1 percent.

To put it another way, on a flat surface, curvature is 0 per mile everywhere. On the earth's spherical surface, curvature is 0.000126 per mile everywhere (or 8 inches per mile). On the earth's oblate spheroidal surface, the curvature varies from 7.973 inches to the mile to 8.027 inches to the mile.

The correction in going from spherical to oblate spheroidal is much smaller than going from flat to spherical. Therefore, although the notion of the earth as a sphere is wrong, strictly speaking, it is not as wrong as the notion of the earth as flat.

Even the oblate-spheroidal notion of the earth is wrong, strictly speaking. In 1958, when the satellite Vanguard I was put into orbit about the earth, it was able to measure the local gravitational pull of the earth--and therefore its shape--with unprecedented precision. It turned out that the equatorial bulge south of the equator was slightly bulgier than the bulge north of the equator, and that the South Pole sea level was slightly nearer the center of the earth than the North Pole sea level was.

There seemed no other way of describing this than by saying the earth was pear-shaped, and at once many people decided that the earth was nothing like a sphere but was shaped like a Bartlett pear dangling in space. Actually, the pearlike deviation from oblate-spheroid perfect was a matter of yards rather than miles, and the adjustment of curvature was in the millionths of an inch per mile.

In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after.

What actually happens is that once scientists get hold of a good concept they gradually refine and extend it with greater and greater subtlety as their instruments of measurement improve. Theories are not so much wrong as incomplete.

This can be pointed out in many cases other than just the shape of the earth. Even when a new theory seems to represent a revolution, it usually arises out of small refinements. If something more than a small refinement were needed, then the old theory would never have endured.

Copernicus switched from an earth-centered planetary system to a sun-centered one. In doing so, he switched from something that was obvious to something that was apparently ridiculous. However, it was a matter of finding better ways of calculating the motion of the planets in the sky, and eventually the geocentric theory was just left behind. It was precisely because the old theory gave results that were fairly good by the measurement standards of the time that kept it in being so long.

Again, it is because the geological formations of the earth change so slowly and the living things upon it evolve so slowly that it seemed reasonable at first to suppose that there was no change and that the earth and life always existed as they do today. If that were so, it would make no difference whether the earth and life were billions of years old or thousands. Thousands were easier to grasp.

But when careful observation showed that the earth and life were changing at a rate that was very tiny but not zero, then it became clear that the earth and life had to be very old. Modern geology came into being, and so did the notion of biological evolution.

If the rate of change were more rapid, geology and evolution would have reached their modern state in ancient times. It is only because the difference between the rate of change in a static universe and the rate of change in an evolutionary one is that between zero and very nearly zero that the creationists can continue propagating their folly.

Since the refinements in theory grow smaller and smaller, even quite ancient theories must have been sufficiently right to allow advances to be made; advances that were not wiped out by subsequent refinements.

The Greeks introduced the notion of latitude and longitude, for instance, and made reasonable maps of the Mediterranean basin even without taking sphericity into account, and we still use latitude and longitude today.

The Sumerians were probably the first to establish the principle that planetary movements in the sky exhibit regularity and can be predicted, and they proceeded to work out ways of doing so even though they assumed the earth to be the center of the universe. Their measurements have been enormously refined but the principle remains.

Naturally, the theories we now have might be considered wrong in the simplistic sense of my English Lit correspondent, but in a much truer and subtler sense, they need only be considered incomplete.

His sadness was our own

2010-01-15T00:21:00.006+08:00

Any one of us could easily have been Oedipus, and therein lies the tragedy of Sophocles' play; anyone could really have been Oedipus, and therein resides the melancholy of this tormented man - the weight of sadness that unremittingly haunts us, the sorrow that lingeringly accompanies us, the devastation that is rendered all the more painfully acute by the stark realisation that what happened to Oedipus could very well have happened to any of us, that the neat alignments of those celestial bodies whose gravity define our respective fates are but fortuitous, that those heavenly stars which determine our inescapable destinies are in their nature capricious, that the gods orchestrating Oedipus' eventual withering could have whimsically chosen us instead to experience such a depressing end, that in our mortality we are engulfed uncompromisingly by our vulnerability, by our inability to shoulder Oedipus' maddening grief, which is the outcome of his relentless pursuit of truth, of his desperation to defy the grave prophecies of his life, of his unwitting journey towards an inevitable conclusion that fulfils all the dreadful predictions - as he persisted in his inquiries, in the confused midst of it all, somehow he had inferred, he had guessed, he had managed to discover that perhaps his own futile attempts to rebel against the life that had long been ordained for him had urged him inexorably towards it instead; and yet he continued questioning until he received all the answers he had ever sought, uttered in harsh unequivocal terms, until he had the complete truth, articulated in a manner devoid of the gentle ambiguity that would allow comfortable room for self-denial; he wanted the hard truth, and look, my fellow men, look what it did to him; look what his ceaseless search led to; it totally destroyed him, but he wanted it - didn't he? - he sensed it, he felt it, he glimpsed a hint of the whole undesirability of it, but still he pursued it, he gave chase unstoppably, he yearned hungrily for it; the truth was the holy grail in his life, the paragon of beauty, sacrosanct and lovely even though it would kill him mercilessly; and so he begged for it, even though he already had an inkling of its destructive power, even though it robbed him of his sanity; but it was perfectly all right, he was finally liberated - what good was sanity that was possible only when eternally sheltered from the truth? - the truth set him free from a superficial life of despicable ignorance and artifically constructed bliss.

This is the enthralling, harrowing story of a man who was a puppet with no autonomy, who spent his entire life trying to resist the higher powers, who in the end was still no match for the smiling puppeteers, whose tireless hunt for truth led to his own downfall, who knew that he would be deeply unhappy if he came to be in possession of it, and yet he never gave up, and yet he went on unrelentingly, only to confront the startling fact that, at the end of the day, he had no free will, that he was but a mere plaything. Any one of us could have been Oedipus, with the story about a heroic man with unsurpassable bravery in finding the truth, even though he knew it would undo him, even though it did undo him; the story about a man who lost his happiness to the truth, the man who anticipated such an outcome but wanted the complete truth anyway; the story about his courage, his sacrifice of joy for truth, the essence of the universe. This poetic story, this fearless man - they are incomparably beautiful, and they are tragic.

I'm tempted to buy the Vendetta mask - should I?

2009-12-13T04:00:00.002+08:00

I love Alan Moore. 'V for Vendetta' and 'Watchmen' are simply peerless in their emotional depth and intellectual profundity, their sophisticated artwork and their incomparable literary merits. The unforgettable chapter in 'Watchmen' in which Dr Manhattan was quietly drowned in his lonely soliloquy on Mars is exceptionally powerful in its unsurpassable beauty, containing some of the finest and most poetic literary passages I've ever read.

I wish I saw those masks when I was shopping for Halloween.

Ming the Snowman

2009-12-06T14:25:00.012+08:00

Almost 40 hours of sleeplessness and I am surprisingly still pretty energetic. After attending my only lesson on Friday, I spent the evening admiring the lovely sunset with John and Sue.

Look how short I am compared to John and Sue. I'm a midget.

The night sky was breathtaking.

Attended Vienna Teng's concert with Sue after dinner, and Teng's voice was so amazingly delicate and beautifully enthralling that I felt goosebumps all over my body. Her voice possesses this gentle lingering and penetrating force, and her piano-playing skills are also insanely mesmerising - her fingers are unbelievably dexterous and her movements are awesomely fluid. She performed with Alex Wong, who is the producer for all her albums, and he is incredibly talented as well - he played expertly numerous musical instruments, and their collaboration is governed by an unbelievable chemistry. After her concert Sue and I decided to buy her latest album, and she very gladly agreed to autograph our copies for us. We also took photographs with both Vienna Teng and Alex Wong. I wore an irrepressible smile on my face the entire day.

Sue and I later joined John, Javier and Greg for a movie in John's dormitory. By the time the movie was over, daybreak was almost arriving. All of us (except John, who was filled with lethargy) headed towards the pier situated along the alluring Charles River and waited patiently for the sunrise. We bought green tea from a convenience store nearby, and the wonderful dawn was spent engaging in relaxing conversations and friendly exchanges of benign jokes directed affectionately at one another in between idle sips of tea. The morning sky was unfortunately covered by clouds, and the poetic sunrise was never made visible to us - all we experienced was this gradual brightening of the dark gloomy sky, this slow magical transformation from weeping shades of deep blue to soft cerulean hues.

Javier conceded defeat to sleepiness after we left the pier. Greg, Sue and I waited 2 hours in Greg's room for the dining hall to begin its operations, and we had a reasonably fulfilling breakfast. While waiting, Greg introduced to me this addictively idiotic reality show titled Parental Control, which is a programme in which parents who highly disapprove of their child's significant other hold auditions to screen new potential partners for their kid. Each parent will vote for one contestant, and these two shortlisted candidates will each have to organise a date. At the end of the show, the child will have to choose whether to ditch his/her current partner in favour of one of their parents' choices, or to remain in his/her present relationship. Sometimes the child may also end up deciding to choose singlehood instead. In the last episode, a married couple wanted to get rid of their son's detestable girlfriend, who is an absolute piece of scum. She looks horribly skanky and she is shockingly disrespectful to her boyfriend's parents. When she found out that they desired her to break up with their son, she made awfully sarcastic and rude remarks, e.g., telling the mother to "keep [her] germs to [herself]" when she coughed, and reminding the father to "be mindful of getting herpes". Eventually she was eliminated - her (now former) boyfriend picked the girl nominated by his father instead. When she realised that she had lost the battle, she threw a gigantic tantrum and marched angrily out of the house, while her ex-boyfriend's parents celebrated in unreserved glee. Honestly, I am always naturally skeptical of such matchmaking shows, in which success is almost always instant. I really wonder how long such relationships actually last - after all, the edifices of these romances are built on very flimsy foundations of knowledge and mutual understanding, and are mainly supported by first impressions, which more often than not turn out to be completely wrong as time passes.

Anyway, we went for breakfast at 9a.m., and Greg commented casually that he hadn't been to the beach in a really long time and that he missed the sea terribly. At this point in time an inexplicable urge to do something totally unplanned, crazy and spontaneous suddenly came over me, and I suggested impulsively, "Why don't we go to the beach now?" Upon hearing my utterance, every single sensation of exhaustion immediately dissipated, and we were instantly recharged by an overwhelming rush of excitement. I was tired of the crushing monotony of my life, of living according to a routine dictated by my biological clock. I think we all felt childishly invincible and unstoppable and proudly defiant - seriously, who needs sleep when we can share so many great moments together, when friendship is forever?

And so off to the beach we went, wandering slowly from one end of the shore to the other, feeling the uncompromisingly chilly gusts of wind blowing remorselessly at us, picking pretty seashells and occasionally running after the soaring seagulls, screaming into the horizon declarations of our undying love for one another, immortalised by the reverberating echoes that resonated in the frozen air hovering above the calm ocean. Right now, as I am typing this post, I have some seashells next to me, with the lingering salty fragrance of the deep waters and tangling seaweed.

Right after our visit to the beach, I was still feeling overwhelmingly exhilarated, and so I proposed that we go to the Museum of Fine Arts together. Sue and Greg very readily and happily assented to my idea. I have been there once but I did not finish viewing all the artworks at that time - the museum has such an amazingly huge collection that separate trips are required, but fortunately for me students are allowed free entry into the museum. We spent two hours there. It was an ineffably beautiful day, with Greg and Sue and Claude Monet.

Greg and Sue posed in front of contemporary artworks.
We walked home after leaving the museum, because Greg was broke and had no cash to take the train. There was an abundance of lovely scenery along the way - the streets were basked in brilliant autumnal shades, and ducks were swimming serenely in the quiet stillness of the pond, creating tiny ripples on the surface. I deliberately walked behind Greg and Sue, for I love taking photographs of people from the back - I do not exactly know how to articulate my reasons for such a preference, but I guess it is because of the immense feeling of poetic loneliness that the scenes of departure often evoke in me - it is the tragically lovely image of watching helplessly as someone walks slowly away from you, and you are left behind, all alone, imprisoned within your silent walls of impenetrable solitude. Sue's winter jacket is a burning flame of red, and it adds a charming dimension to my pictures when juxtaposed against the tender colours which inundate our surroundings.

Greg and I had dinner before heading back to our own rooms. I took a shower before John came to pick me up - he wanted to invite me to watch a movie at his dormitory, and Javier and Greg were already waiting. By then it had begun snowing. I said there was really no need for him to traipse all the distance between his dormitory and mine just to invite me, but he said that it would be nicer if I had someone to walk with me in the snow. We watched Donnie Darko, which John highly recommended. I would like it very much if I could just suspend my disbelief at the implausible premise of the film; but overall it was still a pretty good production, and Jake Gyllenhaal's performance was captivatingly eerie.

As we watched the movie, it started snowing more heavily, and all the cars and roads were covered in white blankets of snow. It felt unspeakably ethereal to watch the specks of snow dancing chaotically in their descend from the heavens above. John's friends joined us as we participated in a snowball fight, shaving snow off the snow-laden vehicles with our hands and throwing snowballs at one another. We went to a car park nearby and lay down in the snow and made snow angels. A friend took photographs, and in those pictures I look genuinely happy. We built a snowman, whom we named Ming, because he had typical Asian features. Ming was later murdered by some sadistic neighbours, and we all mourned his gruesome death with tremendous sorrow, for Ming was a smiling old man, with his trademark avuncular disposition and a frame that had been mercilessly shrivelled by old age, had never caused any disturbance or inconvenience to anyone - in those fleeting 6 hours of his life, he didn't speak a single unkind word or perform any malicious act. He was considerate, reticent, reclusive, and he suffered an undeserved amount of violence.

I love the freedom, the independence and the beauty here. There are so many people and things I am going to dearly miss when I return to Singapore. I love my friends here - I appreciate them immensely for their incomparable kindness, quick wit, cheerful candour, idiosyncratic humour and delightful company. I love spending endless nights lying down under clear star-lit skies next to them, watching time flow by almost unnoticeably as meteor showers fall soundlessly on Earth, having many hours of hear-to-heart conversations without the nagging fear of being judged. I love how they make me feel like I truly belong here, how they can relate to me emotionally or/and intellectually, how they always drop by my room to waste time together, how they understand that sometimes gallivanting is more important than sleeping, how there is this indescribable chemistry shared among us - we are always able to seamlessly coordinate with one another when engaging in social repartee, and I love their maturity, their fun-loving personalities, their willingness to enjoy life thoroughly while it lasts without any concern for deadlines and assignments and examinations and curfews and obligations and expectations and material worries. I love how all of them are beautiful in their own eccentric adorable ways; I love how happy I feel when I spend time with them.

I feel alive here. I would want to come back again.

Comforting sounds

2009-12-03T13:08:00.006+08:00

Attended Mew's concert today. Recorded many parts of it. My favourite song Comforting Sounds was performed last, and by then my battery was almost dying. Fortunately it managed to survive till I finished recording the entire song.

Really, this song never fails me to evoke a powerful flood of emotions within me - it always makes me feel that there is so much indescribable poetry and staggering majesty in this endless universe that I am truly contented for simply having lived, that I can immediately die with quiet equanimity, in the blissful presence of such rich abundance of transcendental beauty.

How laughably defenceless we are with the crippling inadequacies of our finite vocabulary, how woefully incapable our earthly languages are of fully capturing the ethereal magnitude of the humbling boundlessness of the gently unfeeling cosmos - but when all else harshly disappoints us, relentlessly limits us, unhesitatingly abandons us, fortunately for humanity we still have music.

To keep track of events I have not written about

2009-11-11T12:05:00.018+08:00

I went to Maine to visit a post-graduate student's house, which has its own observatory equipped with very sophisticated telescopes. Unfortunately the photographs I took of his home are mysteriously missing from my folders, and all I am left with is this very blurred picture of my feet as well as four other friends' - it was really cold in the observatory and so we huddled together for some warmth.

The Ig Nobel Award Ceremony, which was held at Harvard University. It was hugely entertaining and hilariously clever. I also got to see several Nobel Prize winners in real life.

I joined a Christian organisation for a retreat to Lake Sunapee at New Hampshire. We stayed at a Christian couple's house, which is incredibly ginormous - there are at least 15 bedrooms and every corner of the house is nicely furnished. The bathroom is unbelievably huge too - it even comes with its own sauna.

I watched a performance by the Blue Man Group - it was wildly sensational and simply captivating!

Boston Movie Tours - a tour guide pointed out the various places in Boston where scenes from different movies were shot.

Boston Duck Tours - one-third of the trip was conducted on the Charles River, and I got to try my hands on manoeuvring the boat! It was immensely cool.

Halloween celebration! I dressed up as a firefighter - it was supposed to be a sexy outfit but I wore a white shirt inside because 1) I don't have any assets to show off and 2) I didn't want to freeze to death in the cold. The girl who dressed up as Snow White is my roommate - she looked really cute in her costume!

The lecture series by Nobel winner Orhan Pamuk, held at Harvard University (Pamuk is on the right).

The whale-watching trip - it was tremendously enjoyable and inspiring to be out at sea with such gentle, adorable creatures. It completely strengthened my inclination to save the lives of animals than those of humans.

Paul Rusesabagina's lecture - Rusesabagina is the actual protagonist in the movie Hotel Rwanda (played movingly by Don Cheadle), and his lecture was titled 'Martin Luther Jr. Leadership Lecture'. The entire event was to pay homage to Dr Martin Luther King, who graduated with a PhD from BU (BU was also the first school in American history to accept black students for post-graduate programmes). Poet Sonia Sanchez also recited several of her poems in tribute to King - personally I found her poems to be of average calibre, though she did have a very unique way of recitation - some might find it engaging and refreshing, though I thought it was overly dramatic and distracting.

There is also a wealth of photographs which I haven't posted here, including shots of the beautifully quiet Charles River, the magnificent Boston Public Library, the breathtaking Trinity Church, the strangely charming Central Burying Ground, the tranquil Boston Public Gardens, the lively Quincy Market and the legendary Harvard University, among others. I will try to do so soon.

On the train

2009-11-10T04:19:00.002+08:00

The other day I was riding the train when I saw a girl writing a story about me. Before you hastily accuse me of egotism, I shall explain that she was describing me in such great detail - from what I was wearing to what I was doing at that time - that there was really no other passenger on the train that could have fit her description so perfectly. Furthermore, she gave her story the title "On the T" (in local parlance, a train run by the Massachusetts Bay Transport Authority is known simply and affectionately as a 'T'), further bolstering the suggestion that she was writing about me. Unfortunately her writing was neither very engaging nor polished, and so I highly doubt that she would ever get published.

On another note I went on a whale-watching tour the other day, and I shall share with you my experiences soon.

We Have No Time to Lose by Angela Merkel

2009-11-05T04:05:00.001+08:00

In her speech before the US Congress on Tuesday, German Chancellor Angela Merkel thanked the Americans for their decades-long support of Germany and for their role in helping to end the Cold War. She also reminded US politicians that the world will be looking to America and Europe in December for leadership in forging a global climate change agreement.

Editor's note: This is the official German government translation of the speech given by Chancellor Angela Merkel before the US Congress on Nov. 3, 2009.

Madam Speaker, Mr. Vice President, Distinguished Members of Congress,

I would like to thank you for the great honor and privilege to address you today, shortly before the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

I am the second German Chancellor on whom this honor has been bestowed. The first was Konrad Adenauer when he addressed both Houses of Congress in 1957, albeit one after the other.

Our lives could not have been more different. In 1957 I was just a small child of three years. I lived with my parents in Brandenburg, a region that belonged to the German Democratic Republic (GDR), the part of Germany that was not free. My father was a Protestant pastor. My mother, who had studied English and Latin to become a teacher, was not allowed to work in her chosen profession in the GDR.

In 1957 Konrad Adenauer was already 81 years old. He had lived through the German Empire, the First World War, the Weimar Republic and the Second World War. The National Socialists ousted him from his position as mayor of the city of Cologne. After the war, he was among the men and women who helped build up the free, democratic Federal Republic of Germany.

Nothing is more symbolic of the Federal Republic of Germany than its constitution, the Basic Law, or "Grundgesetz". It was adopted exactly 60 years ago. Article 1 of the Grundgesetz proclaims, and I quote, "Human dignity shall be inviolable". This short, simple sentence - "Human dignity shall be inviolable" - was the answer to the catastrophe that was the Second World War, to the murder of six million Jews in the Holocaust, to the hate, destruction and annihilation that Germany brought upon Europe and the world.

November 9th is just a few days away. It was on November 9, 1989 that the Berlin Wall fell and it was also on November 9 in 1938 that an indelible mark was branded into Germany's memory and Europe's history. On that day the National Socialists destroyed synagogues, setting them on fire, and murdered countless people. It was the beginning of what led to the break with civilization, the Shoah. I cannot stand before you today without remembering the victims of this day and of the Shoah.

And I cannot stand before you today without mentioning how grateful I am for the presence of one guest, who personally experienced the horror of National Socialism in Germany and whom I recently met personally: Professor Fritz Stern.

He was born in 1926 in what was then the German city of Breslau and today is the Polish city of Wroclaw. He and his family were able to escape the Nazi regime in 1938 and flee to the United States. In his autobiography, published in 2006 under the title "Five Germanys I Have Known", Fritz Stern describes the moment of his arrival in New York's harbor in 1938, a haven of freedom and security.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is wonderful that history willed that we should both - the twelve-year-old boy who was driven out of Germany and me, the Chancellor of reunited Germany who was born in the GDR - be here in this distinguished House. This fills me with great joy and deep gratitude.

Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined, twenty years ago before the Wall fell, that this would happen. It was beyond imagination then to even think about traveling to the United States of America let alone standing here today.

The land of unlimited opportunity - for a long time it was impossible for me to reach. The Wall, barbed wire and the order to shoot those who tried to leave limited my access to the free world. So I had to create my own picture of the United States from films and books, some of which were smuggled in from the West by relatives. What did I see and what did I read? What was I passionate about?

I was passionate about the American dream - the opportunity for everyone to be successful, to make it in life through their own personal effort.

I, like many other teenagers, was passionate about a certain brand of jeans that were not available in the GDR and which my aunt in West Germany regularly sent to me.

I was passionate about the vast American landscape which seemed to breathe the very spirit of freedom and independence. Immediately in 1990 my husband and I traveled for the first time in our lives to America, to California. We will never forget our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean. It was simply gorgeous.

I was passionate about all of these things and much more, even though until 1989 America was simply out of reach for me. And then, on November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall came down. The border that for decades had divided a nation into two worlds was now open.

And that is why for me today is, first of all, the time to say thank you.

I thank the American and Allied pilots who heard and heeded the desperate call of Berlin's mayor Ernst Reuter as he said "People of the world, … look upon this city."

For months, these pilots delivered food by airlift and saved Berlin from starvation. Many of these soldiers risked their lives doing this. Dozens lost their lives. We will remember and honor them forever.

I thank the 16 million Americans who have been stationed in Germany over the past decades. Without their support as soldiers, diplomats and generally as facilitators it never would have been possible to overcome the division of Europe. We are happy to have American soldiers in Germany, today and in the future. They are ambassadors of their country in our country, just as many Americans with German roots today act as ambassadors of my country here.

I think of John F. Kennedy, who won the hearts of despairing Berliners during his 1963 visit after the construction of the Berlin Wall when he called out to them: "Ich bin ein Berliner."

Ronald Reagan far earlier than others saw and recognized the sign of the times when, standing before the Brandenburg Gate in 1987, he demanded: "Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate … Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall." This appeal is something that will never be forgotten.

I thank George Herbert Walker Bush for placing his trust in Germany and then Federal Chancellor Helmut Kohl and presenting us Germans with an offer of immeasurable value in May 1989: "Partnership in leadership." What a generous offer, 40 years after the end of World War II. Just last Saturday we saw each other again in Berlin, along with Mikhail Gorbachev. We also owe him a debt of gratitude.

Ladies and gentlemen, to sum it up in one sentence: I know, we Germans know, how much we owe to you, our American friends. We as a nation, and I personally, will never forget that.

All over Europe the common quest for freedom released an incredible power: in the trade union Solidarno in Poland, amongst the reformers surrounding Václav Havel in Czechoslovakia, at the first opening of the Iron Curtain in Hungary and at the demonstrations that took place every Monday in the GDR.

Where there was once only a dark wall, a door suddenly opened and we all walked through it: onto the streets, into the churches, across the borders. Everyone was given the chance to build something new, to make a difference, to venture a new beginning.

I also started anew. I left my job as a physicist at the Academy of Sciences in East Berlin behind me and went into politics. Because I finally had the chance to make a difference. Because I had the impression that now it was possible to change things. It was possible for me to do something.

Ladies and gentlemen, twenty years have passed since we were given this incredible gift of freedom. But there is still nothing that inspires me more, nothing that spurns me on more, nothing that fills me more with positive feelings than the power of freedom.

A person who has experienced such a positive surprise in life believes that much is possible. Or, to put it in the words of Bill Clinton in Berlin in 1994: "Nothing will stop us. All things are possible."

Yes, all things are possible. Like the fact that a woman like me can stand before you today. That a man like Arnold Vaatz, who spent time in prison because he was a dissident during the GDR regime in Dresden, can be here today as a Member of the German Bundestag and of my delegation.

All things are possible, also in the 21st century, in the age of globalization. We back home in Germany know just as well as you do in America that many people are afraid of globalization. We do not just brush these concerns aside. We recognize the difficulties. And yet it is our duty to convince people that globalization is an immense global opportunity, for each and every continent, because it forces us to act together with others. The alternative to globalization would be shutting ourselves off from others, but this is not a viable alternative. It would lead only to isolation and therefore misery. Thinking in terms of alliances and partnerships on the other hand, is what will take us into a good future.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is true that America and Europe have had their share of disagreements. One may feel the other is sometimes too hesitant and fearful, or from the opposite perspective, too headstrong and pushy. And nevertheless, I am deeply convinced that there is no better partner for Europe than America and no better partner for America than Europe.

Because what brings Europeans and Americans together and keeps them together is not just a shared history. What brings and keeps Europeans and Americans together are not just shared interests and the common global challenges that all regions of the world face. That alone would not be sufficient to explain the very special partnership between Europe and America and make it last. It is more than that. That which brings Europeans and Americans closer together and keeps them close is a common basis of shared values. It is a common idea of the individual and his inviolable dignity. It is a common understanding of freedom in responsibility. This is what we stand for in the unique transatlantic partnership and in the community of shared values that is NATO. This is what fills "Partnership in Leadership" with life, ladies and gentlemen.

This basis of values was what ended the Cold War, and it is this basis of values that will enable us to stand the tests of our times- and these tests we must stand.

Germany is united, Europe is united. That is what we have achieved. Now, today, our political generation must prove that it is able to meet the challenges of the 21st century, and that in a sense it is able to tear down today's walls.

What does that mean? First it means building peace and security, second, achieving prosperity and justice, and third, protecting our planet. Here, too, America and Europe are called upon in a very special way.

Even after the end of the Cold War we are thus faced with the task of tearing down the walls between different concepts of life, in other words the walls in people's minds that make it difficult time and again to understand one another in this world of ours. This is why the ability to show tolerance is so important. While, for us, our way of life is the best possible way, others do not necessarily feel that way. There are different ways to create peaceful coexistence. Tolerance means showing respect for other people's history, traditions, religion and cultural identity.

But let there be no misunderstanding: Tolerance does not mean "anything goes". There must be zero tolerance towards all those who show no respect for the inalienable rights of the individual and who violate human rights. Zero tolerance must also be shown if, for example, weapons of mass destruction fall into the hands of Iran and possibly threaten our security!

Iran must be aware of this. Iran knows our offer, but Iran also knows where we draw the line: A nuclear bomb in the hands of an Iranian President who denies the Holocaust, threatens Israel and denies Israel the right to exist, is not acceptable!

For me, Israel's security will never be open to negotiation. Not only Israel is threatened but the entire free world. Whoever threatens Israel also threatens us! This is why the free world meets this threat headon, if necessary with tough economic sanctions. Ladies and gentlemen, Germany will therefore provide staunch support to the peace process with the aim of realizing a twostate solution, a Jewish State of Israel and a Palestinian state.

We also stand up to the threat of international terrorism. We are aware that no country, no matter how strong, can do this alone. We all need partners. We are only strong if we are part of a community of partners.

Since we shared the view of the then President George W. Bush, after 9/11, that we had to do everything we could to prevent Afghanistan from ever again harboring a threat to security, Germany has since 2002 been present on the ground with the third-largest troop contingent. We want to make the concept of networked security successful. This means that civilian and military engagement are inextricably linked.

The international community's commitment in Afghanistan is undoubtedly a tough one. It places great demands on all of us, and it must be taken into the next phase as soon as the new Afghan government is in office. Our objective must be to develop a strategy to transfer responsibility, which we want to do early next year at a joint UN conference. We will be successful if, as we have done up to now, we continue travel this road together in the Alliance, every step of the way. Germany is ready to shoulder that responsibility.

There is no doubt that NATO is and will continue to be the crucial corner-stone of our collective defense. Its Security Concept is being constantly developed and adapted to new challenges. Its foundation and clear compass for peace and freedom will, however, remain unchanged.

It is my firm belief that we Europeans can contribute even more in the future. For we Europeans are currently working towards giving our European Union a new contractual basis. The final signature has just been added. This will make the EU stronger and more capable of action, and thus make it a strong and reliable partner for the United States.

On this basis we can build stable partnerships with others, first and foremost with Russia, China and India. This is because our world is freer and more networked than ever. The fall of the Berlin Wall, the revolution in information and communication technology, the rise of China, India and other countries to become dynamic economies - all this has made the 21st century world a different place from the world we knew in the 20th century. That's a good thing, because freedom is the very essence of our economy and society. Without freedom the human mind is prevented from unleashing its creative force.

But what is also clear is that this freedom does not stand alone. It is freedom in responsibility and freedom to exercise responsibility. For that reason the world needs order. The near-collapse of the international financial markets showed what happens when there is no such order.

If there is one lesson the world has learned from last year's financial crisis, it is that there is no alternative to a global framework for a globalized economy. Without universally-binding rules for transparency and supervision there can be no greater freedom but rather we risk the abuse of freedom and thus instability. In a way this is a second wall that has to fall: A wall standing in the way of a truly global economic order, a wall of regional and exclusively national thinking.

The key to cooperation between the major industrialized countries and emerging economies lies in the G20.Here again cooperation between America and Europe is a crucial corner-stone. It is a cooperation that is not exclusive but rather inclusive.

The G20 has shown that it can take action. We need to resist the pressure of those who almost led the nations of this world into the abyss. That means no more and no less than that international economic policy must become more sustainable. This crisis was also an expression of too much short-term thinking. Millions of people all over the world might lose their jobs or even suffer poverty and starvation because of this. To achieve prosperity and justice we must do all we can to prevent such a crisis in the future.

That also means not giving in to the temptation of protectionism. This is why the WTO Doha negotiations are so important. The success of the Doha Round would send a valuable message of the openness of the world economy, particularly in the current crisis.

Equally, the Transatlantic Economic Council can also fulfill an important task. We can use it to prevent competing subsidies and give incentives to reduce trade barriers between Europe and America. I appeal to you: Let us jointly work towards a world economic order which is in the interests of both America and Europe!

Ladies and gentlemen,

the fact that global challenges can only be met by comprehensive international cooperation is also shown by a third great challenge of the 21st century, by a wall, so to speak, separating the present from the future. That wall prevents us from seeing the needs of future generations, it prevents us from taking the measures urgently needed to protect the very basis of our life and climate.

We can already see where this wasteful attitude towards our future leads: In the Arctic icebergs are melting, in Africa people are becoming refugees due to environmental damage, and global sea levels are rising. I am pleased that you in your work together with President Obama attach such significance to protecting our climate. For we all know: We have no time to lose! We need an agreement at the climate conference in Copenhagen in December. We have to agree on one objective - global warming must not exceed two degrees Celsius.

To achieve this we need the readiness of all nations to assume internationally binding obligations. We cannot afford failure with regard to achieving the climate protection objectives scientists tell us are crucial. That would not only be irresponsible from an ecological point of view, but would also be technologically short-sighted, for the development of new technologies in the energy sector offers major opportunities for growth and jobs in the future.

No doubt about it - in December the world will look to us, to Europe and America. It is true that there can be no agreement without China and India accepting obligations, but I am convinced that if we in Europe and America show that we are ready to accept binding obligations, we will also be able to persuade China and India to join in. And then, in Copenhagen, we will be able to tear down the wall between the present and the future - in the interests of our children and grandchildren and of sustainable development worldwide.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I am convinced that, just as we found the strength in the 20th century to tear down a wall made of barbed wire and concrete, today we have the strength to overcome the walls of the 21st century, walls in our minds, walls of short-sighted self-interest, walls between the present and the future.

Ladies and gentlemen, my confidence is inspired by a very special sound - that of the Freedom Bell in the Schöneberg Town Hall in Berlin. Since 1950 a copy of the original American Liberty Bell has hung there. A gift from American citizens, it is a symbol of the promise of freedom, a promise that has been fulfilled. On October 3, 1990 the Freedom Bell rang to mark the reunification of Germany, the greatest moment of joy for the German people. On September 13, 2001, two days after 9/11, it tolled again, to mark America's darkest hour.

The Freedom Bell in Berlin is, like the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, a symbol which reminds us that freedom does not come about of itself. It must be struggled for and then defended anew every day of our lives. In this endeavor Germany and Europe will also in future remain strong and dependable partners for America. That I promise you.

Thank you very much.

Spinozan love

2009-11-03T14:53:00.003+08:00

... Spinoza's theory of the human agent certainly lends itself to the view that we are largely governed by 'unconscious' forces. As I have suggested, there is, for Spinoza, no 'self', no 'first person' who takes charge, so to speak, of the causality of my actions. Moreover, the cognition which is presented to me in so confused a form by my passions is a cognition of the body: for Spinoza, therefore, it can be emended only by a better cognition - an 'adequate idea' - of the natural processes which that body displays. Nevertheless, one could see in these ideas, not the strength of Spinoza's theory of emotion, but its weakness - in particular, its inability to account for the two most important features of our emotional life: the status of the self as subject of emotion, and of the world (the other) as object. Emotions are directed outwards: they focus, or 'intend', an object, and directs our energies towards that object. Spinoza's theory recognises this fact (the fact of 'intentionality') but radically misdescribes it. For Spinoza the 'directedness' of an emotion - as we experience it - is not better than an illusion, a confused representation of processes which exist, not in the surrounding world, but in the body of the subject. I understand my love for you, therefore, not by understanding you, who are its object, nor by understanding myself, who am its subject, but by understanding this strange interloper, my body, in which love grows inscrutably like a cancer, erupting into consciousness in ways which inform me only dimly of the processes by which my mind is enslaved. ...

- Excerpt from Roger Scruton's Spinoza

夕阳无限好，只是近黄昏

2009-10-30T07:45:00.003+08:00

傍晚时分沿着美丽的查尔斯河一个人散步周围人烟稀少环境静谧初秋的景色一片寂寥河畔边高楼矗立城市安详地焕发着无穷的生命力一栋一栋的霓虹灯在水面上形成亮丽的倒影有时候需要独处的时间坐在木凳上静看光阴的荏苒欣赏枯黄的枫叶如何凄美地凋零如何最终归回尘土等至春季降临叶子将骤然再生但届时我已不在此地见证它们的成长然而也许它们并不在乎与路人分享那瞬时间绽现的生命生离死别乃是生命力中无法违背的规律亘古迄今周而复始永无停歇大自然早已悄然明白这千年不变的道理所以没有抗拒也没有怨言地回应死亡的召唤平静地任由地心吸引力将弥留的叶子带回最原始的家近乎光秃的枝桠无语地低垂夕阳西坠一席淡橘色的余光倾泻覆盖着优美的查尔斯河涟漪随着微风温柔的吹袭而渐渐泛起冷风散落一地黄叶吹皱一河秋水偶尔有些落叶漂泊在河面上幽幽流淌的河水付出无限的包容乘载着已逝世的叶子前世所有的快乐与哀愁带着它们前往河流遥远的尽头夜色靡靡查尔斯河波光粼粼我安坐在码头观看稍纵即逝的流年水影偶尔有人带着狗狗跑步经过一切都是那么地平静美好仿佛没有心事烦恼这会儿瞥见可爱的鸭群出游那会儿看见人们在河上悠闲地划舟不知不觉地就感觉到开心起来

波士顿是个漂亮的地方散发优雅而不令人窒息的气质四处林立着欧式古色古香的建筑物背后诉说着无数的历史故事多希望一直在这里

Rich Germans Demand Higher Taxes

2009-10-29T07:53:00.002+08:00

Rich Germans Demand Higher Taxes
Published on 23 October 2009 on BBC News

Germany could raise 100bn euros with the wealth tax, say the petitioners

A group of rich Germans has launched a petition calling for the government to make wealthy people pay higher taxes.

The group say they have more money than they need, and the extra revenue could fund economic and social programmes to aid Germany's economic recovery.

Germany could raise 100bn euros (£91bn) if the richest people paid a 5% wealth tax for two years, they say.

The petition has 44 signatories so far, and will be presented to newly re-elected Chancellor Angela Merkel.

The group say the financial crisis is leading to an increase in unemployment, poverty and social inequality.

Simply donating money to deal with the problems is not enough, they want a change in the whole approach.

"The path out of the crisis must be paved with massive investment in ecology, education and social justice," they say in the petition.

Those who had "made a fortune through inheritance, hard work, hard-working, successful entrepreneurship, or investment" should contribute by paying more to alleviate the crisis.

The man behind the petition, Dieter Lehmkuhl, told Berlin's Tagesspiegel that there were 2.2 million people in Germany with a fortune of more than 500,000 euros.

If they all paid the tax for two years, Germany could raise 100bn euros to fund ecological programmes, education and social projects, said the retired doctor and heir to a brewery.

Signatory Peter Vollmer told AFP news agency he was supporting the proposal because he had inherited "a lot of money I do not need".

He said the tax would be "a viable and socially acceptable way out of the flagrant budget crisis".

The group held a demonstration in Berlin on Wednesday to draw attention to their plans, throwing fake banknotes into the air.

Mr Vollmer said it was "really strange that so few people came".

And so, every now and then, I put my camera away

2009-10-29T02:22:00.003+08:00

In my desperate attempts to capture every evanescent moment in a frozen image, in my juvenile efforts to persistently defy the temporality of every single precious experience, I have ironically become a total stranger to the breathtaking beauty in which I am so blissfully immersed - my numerous visions of the surrounding world have become coloured entirely by the unfeeling perspectives of those camera lenses, and the cold concave-convex mechanism has gradually fostered an insurmountable chasm between the wonderful world out there and myself: I am no longer submerged wholeheartedly in the fleeting present; I have now assumed the role of a distant observer watching everything that goes slowly by with a cool indifference; I now witness every movement of a swaying branch in the breeze and every mournful death of a yellowed leaf through a fragile piece of glass, darkly. I am sadly separated from my environment by those cruel lenses that harshly enforces emotional detachment, that lodge themselves stubbornly between my keen eyes and the city's enchanting face, such that I cannot see it directly, completely, lovingly, without interferences that mediate my perceptions of its abundant allure. And such is the paradoxical nature of my little task to deny my memory of the evil satisfaction of unapologetically failing me one day - every transient instant that I try so diligently to arrest ends up being a casualty in a doomed battle, an irretrievable loss.

On another note, my laptop is currently still being held by my school's IT Center, and I have absolutely no idea when it is going to be ready. I miss my dear laptop sorely. Anyway, I have finally purchased my Halloween costume - I am going to wear a firefighter outfit; and I hope Halloween will be a huge blast.

Philosophy in BU (I)

2009-10-22T02:57:00.014+08:00

My laptop keyboard has gone completely cranky because I clumsily spilled some water on it, and despite my best efforts to quickly wipe the liquid off its surface, a few recalcitrant drops have nevertheless sneakily seeped in and caused significant damage. I've sent it for repairs at my school's IT Center, and the repairman told me that he was not sure if he could find a new keyboard for my laptop since there is a possibility that the same model isn't sold in the US at all. Right now I am just hoping for the best, since I certainly do not want to spend the remainder of my days here having to resort to going to the library whenever I want to gain access to the Internet.

I do realise that I have not been updating much about my life here. That is mainly because most of my days are spent leisurely exploring the city, participating in activities which I will never have the opportunity to enjoy back in Singapore, and socialising with new friends, most of whom are tremendously awesome people. Highlights of my life over the past one month include a retreat to the incredibly alluring Lake Sunapee (which is only accessible by car) located in the neighbouring state of New Hampshire with a very friendly Christian organisation, a short trip to Maine - where the night skies are gorgeously beautiful tapestries of stars and myriad constellations - to visit a BU graduate student's house which comes with its own impressive observatory, as well as the attendance of the hilarious Ig Nobel Award Ceremony at Harvard University. I will try my best to write about these experiences once I get back my laptop, where all my photographs are stored. I am also going to celebrate Halloween, even though I have no idea what role I am going to assume. A friend suggests that I should pretend to be a witch since my laughter is pretty sinister. I vehemently beg to differ, but I must admit that the idea is quite tempting since it involves very little fuss - all I have to do is to simply put on a gloomy black dress, apply some scary make-up and buy a cheap rickety made-in-China broom. We shall see.

One important update: I am now officially one of the founding members of Mensa Universitas Bostoniensis! This is such exhilarating news that the use of that fetching exclamation mark is perfectly justified. It is also the only exclamation mark that is going to appear in this whole boring entry. I am not a writer who litters exclamation marks everywhere indiscriminately.

Anyway, I am currently toying with the idea of dropping one of my philosophy courses here in BU. I am registered for four classes, and one of them is particularly disappointing. The instructor for the course is a very renowned scholar in the academic world, but fame certainly does not necessarily equate to excellence in teaching. The assigned readings for his class are uninsightful at best and grossly misleading at worst. He himself acknowledges as much, so I honestly fail to comprehend why he would still want to subject us to immense torment by forcing us to read such abysmal material anyway. Why not let us read primary sources written by the philosophers themselves? That would be exponentially more productive.

One of the books we have to read for the course is 'Free Will' by Ilham Dilman, and its sole achievement lies in its extraordinary demonstration of lacklustre philosophical writing. The language used by Dilman is extremely superfluous, and many parts require further elucidation while some others desperately demand complete correction. In Dilman's chapter on Augustine, his interpretation of Augustine's thoughts on free will is the exact opposite of what Augustine intended to express. It is a veritable struggle for me to even read the book, and many a time I find myself curiously wondering if Dilman is even a philosopher at all, for his excessively flowery prose and utter lack of substantial support for his various arguments hint strongly that he is perhaps way more suited for a career in the domain of literature instead. The publication of Dilman's spectacularly horrible book has caused so many trees to die for absolutely naught, and when you read his writings you can really feel the subtle movements of precious time slowly slipping away from your already fleeting life, and that is, without exaggeration, probably one of the most insufferable tortures in the entire world - to literally sense the very essence of your life draining away without being able to do anything about it. Dilman's failure is so singular that it is indubitably peerless - till today I have seriously never perused any other philosophy book which is quite as intellectually offensive as Dilman's magnum opus.

Another book which we have to purchase for the course is 'Neurophilosophy of Free Will' by Henrik Walter. It was originally written in German and later translated into English, and while translation is admittedly mechanically and artlessly performed (the pages are also occasionally replete with unforgivable typographical errors and grammatical mistakes), the book is definitely nowhere as painful to read as is Dilman's embarrassingly terrible work. Walter's book does contribute modestly to my philosophical education by helpfully distinguishing the discrete strands of thought that are often confusingly and undiscerningly lumped together when people discuss the topic of free will, but, beyond that, there is really an obvious dearth of original insight - the book has no modicum of potential to generate any excited debates, any fevered discussions or any healthy controversy at all. The prose is also totally uninspiring, and I wonder to whom this stylistic fault should be attributed - is the German prose similarly dull, or is the substandard quality of the English version merely a product of the translator's incapability? Anyway, I am inclined to think that Walter's work warrants only 50 marks out of 100 - no more and no less. It is generally passable and does contain a few fairly incisive remarks here and there, but if I had a choice I surely wouldn't read it. My time will doubtlessly be more fruitfully invested in other endeavours - in, for example, the enjoyable pastime of taking a satisfying afternoon nap, during which my mind rests contentedly in peaceful slumber. Having the spare time to sleep in the day is a hugely coveted luxury, really it is.

Anyway, after my uninterrupted and seemingly endless bout of logorrhea, I have finally fully articulated why I feel the insuppressible urge to drop this class, even at the price of having an unsightly W grade printed on my transcript, and even if it means that fewer credits will be transferred back to my home university (i.e., I will have to cope with heavier workloads when I return). But I would like to solicit more opinions on this issue, as I believe that there exists some iota of truth in mass wisdom regardless of what elitists frequently prefer to think. Therefore, I would deeply appreciate it if any of you would kindly leave a comment sharing with me your thoughts on whether I should just decisively erase this course from my schedule once and for all. Thank you.

It's snowing

2009-10-19T03:59:00.004+08:00

Locals told me that it is not supposed to begin snowing so early, that the harsh cold does not usually descend so soon upon the whole city, but global warming has wreaked havoc. Temperatures have dropped significantly and are expected to fall further than before. This is the first time in my entire life I am seeing snow - it is perenially summer in Singapore - but it is nothing torrential, nothing deeply overpowering, just a few magical petals of white feathers drifting sporadically from the great heavens above accompanied gently by soft drizzling rain, with the poetic reticence of a silent film, as I look out the windows in my protective coccoon of sheltered warmth. It all began so quietly, so placidly, commencing its limpid dance with a murmuring whisper and not a violent bang, before finally slowly increasing in strength and entrancing rhythm, trapping viewers in a wordless sense of awe. I can't wait for the leaves to wither and die away, for the branches to turn sorrowfully bare, as their fate dictates that they should - their death is utterly inexorable, as is their eventual renewel upon the merciful arrival of spring. And so the beautiful repetitive cycle of sad demise and heavenly rebirth goes on forever, again and again, with an insouciant permanence, without respite, without pause, without end.

I find this uplifting and inspiring

2009-09-22T10:41:00.004+08:00

I love the whole world. It's such a brilliant place.

“我们直接上天堂，我们直接下地狱”

2009-09-11T13:33:00.002+08:00

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way..."

- An excerpt from Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities

Carl Sagan's wisdom

2009-09-10T13:56:00.004+08:00

I watched this during the Astronomical Society's meeting the other day.

This is really cool too.

Covert racism

2009-09-09T14:30:00.002+08:00

I encountered some covert racism today and I am feeling very angry now that I recall the incident. It was not obviously discriminatory, though there was some prejudice subtly embedded in it. I don't know if I'm actually being oversensitive. Ask me if you are interested in finding out what happened.

Funny quotes

2009-09-04T13:30:00.009+08:00

[Currently reading nothing]
[Currently listening to Sambassadeur's Between the Lines]

[We were in Mr Filipino's room.]

The Saxophone Player: Why is there a rubber sheath covering your keyboard?
Mr Filipino: Oh well it's just there to lessen wear and tear.
The Saxophone Player: Its texture feels like a condom's.

[A few hours later.]

Mr Filipino: You know, my male friends told me that if a guy shaves his pubic hair, his penis would look bigger.
My Roommate: OK, that is too much information.
Me: Guys do a lot of things that don't need to be explicitly mentioned.
Mr Hawaiian: Yeah, like what [Mr Filipino] did with his laptop.

***

Mr Filipino: Marilyn Monroe had sex with JFK, did you know that?
The Saxophone Player: Before or after his death?

***

[During a shopping trip...]

The Saxophone Player: I sometimes like to bend over and lick my own behind.

[A few hours later, at the end of the day...]

The Saxophone Player: My back is aching now.
Mr Filipino: Too much bending over?

***

Mr Hawaiian: In Spanish, 'j' is pronounced the same way as 'h' is in English.
The Saxophone Player: So when you see a chick on the streets, you can say to her, "I like your hugs"?

***

[We were walking past a dormitory building when some girls accidentally dropped something from their window, and they were so surprised that they ejaculated a shrill scream. I was walking ahead and so initially all I heard was their shrieking.]

Me: (turning around to Mr Filipino) Did they scream because they saw you?

***

Mr Hawaiian: Japanese girls are generally pretty submissive.
Me: You like that?
Mr Hawaiian: Why do you have that sick look on your face?
Me: "Come on, tie yourself to the bed!"

***

The Saxophone Player: My roommate looks suicidal.
Me: When he commits suicide, remember to invite me to view the carnage.
The Saxophone Player: I'm planning to carve into his chest the words 'I love [The Saxophone Player]', so that it would appear like a crime of passion.

***

Mr Hawaiian: I saw this really cute Korean girl the other day. She bought a lot of stuff and she was struggling to carry everything, so I helped her carry her things to her dorm - not because she is cute, but because I am a gentleman.
My Roommate: Did you give her your number?
Mr Hawaiian: No, I don't want to give her my number so soon. I want her to think of me everyday; I want her to wonder who's the knight in shining armour who carried her stuff for her.
Me: So now that you know where she lives, you are going to buy binoculars, right?

I have some postcard-worthy photographs here

2009-09-02T10:52:00.047+08:00

[Currently reading nothing]
[Currently listening to Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Turn Into]

Lessons commence tomorrow, and a new friend very kindly offered to go shopping with me today before I have to again devote myself to the sad drudgery of writing assignments and attending lectures. I arranged to meet her for breakfast but I was half an hour early, and while waiting for her I bumped into this member of the American Revolutionary Communist Party who was distributing pamphlets and publications advocating communism. I had time to kill and so I approached him for a brief conversation, which turned out to be very entertaining. Initially he thought that I was American, but upon learning that I am a Singaporean, he asked, "Am I right to say that all everyone ever talks about in Singapore is economic progress?" He then proceeded to ask some highly informed questions about Singapore, and his impressive knowledge made me quite pleasantly surprised. I enjoyed the conversation so much that I eventually decided to take a photograph with him to properly commemorate the exciting event of engaging in a fairly intellectual discussion with a stranger, because in Singapore I will certainly never have any opportunity to do the same. Maybe I'm just incredibly lucky, but the Americans I've met so far are mostly quite intellectual, and they generally harbour a lot of genuine passion for serious causes that are far greater than themselves, for admirable ideals that involve way more than themselves, for vital issues that matter beyond themselves, and I truly applaud that.

I still want to retain a modicum of privacy, and so I am not going to reveal my appearance to the entire world.
He asked for my contact details and promised that he'd send me an invitation to his party's next meeting. I am pretty thrilled, because I am eagerly interested in finding out more about his party. Right now I'm hoping that he won't forget to keep me updated. I'll definitely share my experiences on this blog if I attend their gathering. Here are the publications which I took from him:

Anyway, my friend arrived shortly after, and we had breakfast at one of the dining halls in campus. Let me show you just how simply awesome the dining halls are:

Meals are served in a buffet style.

During breakfast my friend introduced me two other people, one of whom is an American, and the other a Mexican. The Mexican guy has unbelievably diverse interests, and he is reasonably well-versed in various subjects - he is majoring in mechanical engineering; he reads Nietzsche, Rousseau and Locke quite extensively; and he plays the cello and the saxophone very expertly. I usually have a lot of heartfelt respect for individuals like him - they are laudably open-minded and intellectually curious; they are awfully passionate about learning; their vision and worldviews expand greatly and widely beyond what their areas of specialisation afford them.

Anyway, the American girl asked me when I began to learn English, and so I proceeded to tell her about Singapore's education system. The Mexican guy then asked me if I resent the government for forcefully relegating our native languages to insignificant positions of secondary importance by placing so much emphasis on English, and I explained that while it is really indubitable that the government could surely have done a better job at attempting the preservation of our proficiency in our mother tongues, the decision to mandate that all stuents are to learn English undeniably has its own merits as well, because developing a workforce which is skilled in English has indeed tremendously helped to maintain our relevance to the rest of the world. I told them that it is deeply unfortunate that many Chinese Singaporeans now think it is hugely unfashionable to speak Mandarin, that they are extremely unwilling and mostly unable to speak good Mandarin, and that miswritten words as well as grammatical/syntactical mistakes are not uncommonly seen in Singapore's Mandarin print media. I also mentioned that Singapore's policies are frequently, if not always, driven by pragmatic concerns and practical considerations, and the advent of China's rise to prominence has naturally prompted the government to urgently promote more widespread use of Mandarin, even though most Singaporeans are still largely unresponsive to the campaign. The Mexican guy was rightly shocked - he said, "That is so horrible. If I ever have kids in future, I'll make sure that they speak and write good Spanish. We should never neglect our native tongues."

After a very satisfying breakfast - the quality and the variety of the food here has way surpassed all my modest expectations - my friend and I proceeded to Newbury Street, which is rather renowned for the affordability of the items sold in its rows of fashion boutiques and retail stores. After checking out a few stores, however, I realised that the prices aren't exactly very low after all, and so I ended up buying only one black acrylic scarf from H&M, a Swedish retail franchise which currently has no branches in Singapore. I thoroughly enjoyed the tranquil scenery during my shopping trip - the lifestyle here is so enviably relaxed; the place is utterly picturesque and is a veritable idyll; everyone is incredibly warm; and the surrounding view have this underwhelming reticent loveliness to them:

The entrance to the subway station.

The shape of the church is painted prominently on the cerulean canvas of the clear ethereal heavens.
I genuinely love the churches here - they all have sleek magnificent architecture that hearkens magically and poignantly back to a romantic bygone era; they are eternally shrouded by an enduring aura of grace; they are immortal sanctuaries of holiness and of everlasting inner peace.
There are little comfortable cafés everywhere that allow one to get a freshly brewed cup of fragrant coffee, and to slowly savour it with every sacred sip while watching the crowd go by, as the skies gradually darken and the world dims quietly down.

There are numerous art galleries located at Newbury Street, and some artists have also set up makeshift stalls to display their spectacularly wonderful paintings, which depict their enchantingly poetic interpretations of the captivating city of Boston.
I absolutely love how the leaves are now beginning unnoticeably to fade faintly into light shades of melancholic yellow before saying their goodbyes to those fragile, balding branches which they have all along known so intimately as home. I am inexplicably mesmerised by the American flag - when it gets lifted by the cool breezes and begins to wave serenely, it exudes an aweinspiring air of understated beauty.

After purchasing postcards, I headed to the nearest U.S. Post Office to buy some stamps. It is located on the second level of the Prudential Center, and while I was walking around the second storey exploring the stores, I saw that there is an adorable little park right in the middle of the building where customers can just lounge freely around, waste their time idly in the sinful simple pleasure of just doing nothing in particular, and admire the scenic environment.
The church was photographed from another angle on my way back to the station.

After the shopping trip, we gathered at the Marsh Plaza for a welcome tea session that was organised specially for students from CAS (College of Arts and Sciences).

A band performed some really wacky songs at the session. The Marsh Chapel again.

When the welcome tea was over, my roommate wanted to go shopping, and so we asked three other guys and one Korean girl along with us. This time we went to Copley Street, where there are bargain stores like Filene's Basement as well as Marshalls, which sell outdated off-season merchandise from expensive stores at pretty amazing discounts.

This is the Boston Public Library. It looks so insanely grand and seductively inviting, endlessly enticing me with the irresistible promise of intellectual enrichment and sophisticated learning. I haven't actually gone into it before, but I certainly will do so soon, and probably spend an entire day soaking joyously in its hallowed ambience.

The Westin is our first stop at Copley Street. It has a concentration of high-end and mid-range clothing stores, ranging from GAP to Louis Vuitton. The next few photographs are just random shots of the vicinity around Copley Street.

Copley Plaza.

This is the shuttle bus for the Boston Duck Tours, for which Boston is famous. Participating in the duck tours is one of the must-do activities on my list.

I'm very proud of this photograph actually.

Those three photos are of the Trinity Church and the John Hancock Building.

This is a spacious public area where visitors can just leisurely spend their time. The grass is completely dry and clean and often emits an aromatic dew-scented perfume.

St James Avenue.

This was taken outside Westin, right before we had dinner. Those are metal sculptures of horses.

Our Hawaiian friend recommended this restaurant called Legal Sea Foods, and the first thing I saw when I went into the restaurant is the breathtaking panoramic view of Boston basked in the divine empyreal incandescence of the gently setting sun, which endowed the entire city with a mysterious elusive glow. It was such a staggeringly stupendous sight that one could feel sufficiently inspired to pen poetry on the spot. Unfortunately all the seats next to the French windows were already occupied, and we were led to a table which didn't allow me the coveted vantage point of accessing the stunning view of the city. If I ever return to this restaurant again, I will ensure that I get a seat next to the windows, even if that means I will have to wait for a horribly long time.

Here is the menu. The prices are pretty reasonable considering that it is a rather high-class restaurant. I ordered shrimp and garlic pasta, which was well worth my money.

The chef was very generous with his ingredients, and the shrimps were indescribably juicy and succulent. The tomatoes were really fresh too, and the pasta was well-tossed. Basically I must say that my palate was extremely pleased.

The view of the public library at night. Boston is a rather well-illuminated city with streetlamps everywhere, encompassing everything in its proximity in a soothing pool of golden liquid.

Copley Station. The subway stations here are somewhat rundown, and occasionally one can hear the trains whistling loudly in its piercing falsetto. The subways here are not as efficient or modern as Singapore's trains, but they definitely have their own incomparable rustic charm.

Splash!

2009-09-01T11:54:00.007+08:00

[Currently reading nothing]
[Currently listening to Stars' Personal]

It's only been less than one week since I arrived in the US, and already I have acquired an accent which, while perhaps not entirely American, rather closely approximates the American one. I didn't consciously affect an accent; it is simply that almost everyone around me speaks with the American accent, and so I begin to adopt it as well, as an instinctive reaction to my circumstances. I am definitely going to drop this accent when I return to Singapore, so I beseech my old friends to be completely free of worries - I assure you that you are not expected to gladly suffer my faux accent, which I am aware would be extremely jarring and unappealingly pretentious in casual conversations chock full of Singlish verbal expressions.

Anyway, today I attended Splash!, an event featuring booths set up by most of the student organisations in BU. Enthusiastically submitted my name to dozens of them, including the Undergraduate Philosphy Association, the Organisation for the Mind and Brain Sciences, the Astronomical Society as well as the Literary Society. I tried looking for the Atheists and Secular Humanists society but to no avail (it is listed here as an existing group, so I wonder why I couldn't locate its booth at all), though I did come across a Humanist Society, which is an entirely different group with a heavier focus on voluntary work rather than on political concerns.

Oh well. Here are some pictures:

On our way to the bazaar we walked past the Agganis Arena, a huge venue where concerts and sports competitions are regularly held. Marc Anthony recently held his concert there.

This is the Nicholson Field, where the event took place. There were so many people milling around that on one occasion I was trapped in a human traffic jam and needed quite a while to extricate myself from the crowd. Too bad there were no cute guys or hot chicks occupying positions which were directly adjacent to mine.

Students handing out leaflets to promote their own organisations.

How could I possibly not visit the booth set up by the Undergraduate Philosophy Association? Every week the members gather together for philosophical discussions and intellectual debates in an informal, fun-filled environment. The meetings sound really promising, and I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy those sessions majorly.

This is the Spring 2008 issue of Arché, an annually published undergraduate philosophy journal which accepts submissions from all corners of the world. It would be an immensely great boost to my curriculum vitae if I manage to write something good enough for publication, but I am only too painfully aware of my own limitations, so I am going to moderate my expectations. The chances of having my work appear in that journal are abysmally microscopic - in fact, I would say the improbability is so overwhelming that it approaches impossibility. By the way, for the uninitiated, in ancient Greek philosophy, 'arché' refers to the commencement of the world, the virgin birth of the very first principle of the universe.
The Spring 2009 issue of Arché.

A translation journal published by the Literary Society. I will definitely submit my own translations for the editor's consideration, and I am quite confident that my stuff will get chosen. Meanwhile the opportunity to get published shall keep me motivated to stay in touch with the Chinese language - which I have carelessly neglected for so long - by flexing my linguistic muscles with constant practice in translation, even though there are countless moments when the Chinese language simply eludes translation with its compressed, inexpressible beauty.

I noticed that there were two miswritten words in the Chinese poem which was selected for translation, and I pointed it out to the editor of that journal. She suggested that perhaps I'd want to consider being a proofreader for the club.
Here is a complete list of student publications in BU. BU's intellectual culture is impressively vibrant.

BU has its own record label, which allows students to create their own music and to release albums. That is incredibly cool.
A programme booklet detailing all the scheduled cultural and artistic performances from September through October.

I received this thermal flask for free from an organisation trying to promote environmentally friendly habits and practices. By distributing these flasks for free, its members hope to encourage more people to carry these flasks with them whenever they go out, so that these flasks can be used to contain the hot beverages ordered at Starbucks (or any other cafés, for that matter) in place of disposable plastic cups.

I hope to receive information from all the groups to which I submitted my personal particulars some time soon, so that I can explore them and decide for myself the obligations to which I wish to commit throughout this semester.

Sleepless in Boston

2009-08-31T12:29:00.026+08:00

[Currently listening to Iron and Wine's Flightless Bird, American Mouth]
[Currently reading nothing]

Sorry for the past few agonising days of absence; I am very certain that you missed me sorely. I finally arrived at the beautiful city of Boston a few days ago, and I have been spending most of my time so far settling administrative work, shopping for dormitory essentials and hanging out with other international students. School won't officially start till this coming Wednesday, so I haven't really had many opportunities to mingle with the local Americans yet, since a separate orientation programme was designed for them.

Boston has such an amazingly high concentration of historical and cultural sites that I'm pretty overwhelmed - to the extent that I don't exactly have a clue where to start, since I am so incredibly spoilt for choice. Boston is, after all, widely acknowledged to be the cradle of American democracy, and it is undeniably the soil here that bore witness to several of the most important events in American political history, including the Boston Tea Party as well as the Boston Massacre. I have purchased a couple of cheap maps and travel guides, taken a copious number of brochures, and briefly consulted a few people who are somewhat more familiar with the geography here on which attractions to visit, and I intend to come up with a detailed list of must-do activities in Boston after I catch up on lost sleep. I definitely need my 9 hours of uninterrupted repose every night, and for the past few nights I have consistently enjoyed only 4 to 5 hours of peaceful sleep, so there is a lot of replenishment to do.

Anyway, here are some of the first impressions hitherto gathered. Boston is an unbelievably alluring city whose stately architecture is elegantly redolent of colonial times; its streets are almost spotlessly clean; there are many lovely benches scattered everywhere - some quietly overlooking the charming Charles River - on my campus where people can just sit down, admire the pleasing scenery, play acoustic guitar and lounge leisurely around; the metropolitan landscape here is largely defined by the cosy pockets of neighbourhoods and intimate clusters of residences which usually have little gardens hugging the small pathways that lead cheerfully to the tastefully designed entrances; the public parks are gorgeously spacious and aesthetically pleasing - the soft, clean grass comes in rich verdant shades, and it would truly be a rare occurrence if one does not bump into musicians offering their wonderful art in these parks as a cherished commodity to mesmerised visitors. The strong gusts of summer gale are often comfortably cold to the touch, though sometimes admittedly rather intimidating for those who, like me, have spent their whole lives residing near the equator. I haven't actually ventured beyond the campus during very late hours yet, but I have experienced staying out till 10p.m. or so, and from my limited observations, Boston appears to be a generally pretty safe city. On Thursday night we came across many wandering vendors loudly advertising the sale of tickets to baseball games in the vicinity of Fenway Park - Bostonians are unimaginably avid supporters of the Boston Red Sox baseball team, and it is completely unsurprising to see groups of locals huddling spontaneously together in cafés, staring intently at the television screens with transfixed gazes, watching baseball matches in bated breath while hoping ardently for the triumphant victory of their home team. In fact, Bostonians are mostly very enthusiastic about sports in general - every morning one can see many locals in their exercise gear jogging in the cool weather while joyfully breathing in the clean crisp air, because the environment is just so marvellous for working out. This is one huge reason why there are so few obese people in Boston - almost everyone seems to be in perfectly healthy shape. Their discipline is rather inspiring, and now I feel vaguely driven to slowly start training myself. Hopefully this nascent feeling of motivation will eventually materialise into a solid long-lasting regime.

The other day I walked past this group of Republican supporters who were campaigning against President Obama. [Erratum on 31 August at 9.24a.m: Please read the first comment on this entry. Many thanks to the anonymous reader who corrected me!] They distributed pamphlets and brochures containing articles condemning Obama's health care proposals, and created derisive posters so humiliating (though Obama, being a politician, will certainly have developed enough character strength and steady composure to survive the onslaught of such hurtful insults by now) that you will never ever see similar criticisms directed at our ruling party in Singapore:

Basically the Republicans' concern is that Obama's health care plans will inevitably lead to the dreadful formation of death penals which will have the morally questionable authority to decide whether each individual patient gets to live or die, but I think either they genuinely misunderstand Obama's blueprints at a very profound level or they are just deliberately distorting Obama's position by constructing a gross caricature of him. Accusing him of fraternising with Hilter would surely contribute tremendously to swaying the uninformed population against his favour, and that is just sheer unsophisticated propaganda at work. Yes, it is undeniably unfortunate and highly undesirable that wrong information is sometimes (maliciously) disseminated in places where there is freedom of speech, but my principle is that such civil liberties are good in themselves, regardless of the various consequences to which they may give rise - they are inexorable, inviolable, sacrosanct, and must always be faithfully upheld. In other words, some may be compelled to interpret my view as being that civil liberties constitute a necessary evil. If freedom should bestow enough ruinous messy chaos to destructively bring us to our own feared collective demise as a species, if that should be the inescapable destiny of humankind (though personally I have completely no belief in fate), if that should be the final end towards which all the historical possibilities through time will converge, then gently let it be, for I have no wish to achieve longevity if it involves condoning the ugly iniquities that the blind pursuit of perpetuation may sometimes entail. The following excerpt from Shakespeare's King Lear immediately came to mind then, suddenly and forcefully:

"The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long."

By the way, I attended service at a traditional church today because I couldn't suppress my curiousity, for I have only visited evangelistic churches in Singapore. In fact, all the churches I've seen so far are purely traditional ones. My Christian roommate and I visited Marsh Chapel, which is located on campus:

A dancing flock of birds taking flight towards the skies.

Services held by traditional churches are really vastly different from those hosted by evangelistic churches - there is more uplifting spirituality, more heartfelt sincerity and less gaudy commercialisation. The chapel choir members were astonishingly masterful in their singing - to a layman's untrained ears, there is absolutely no noticeable difference between them and the Vienna Boys' Choir at all, and I am seriously not exaggerating - their voices are so heavenly and the hymns so emotionally moving that they subtly exude this magical healing quality, and when I listened to their eloquent singing while being warmly surrounded by the amplified harmonious sounds that were reverberating resonantly within the walls, I felt this immense sense of peace rushing powerfully into my heart. But really, the delectability of the music says nothing about the existence of God (or the lack thereof): there is no supreme being, there is no personal God benevolently whispering His caring messages to me - those flowing streams of intense emotion that I experienced were just the therapeutic effects that all forms of soulful music exert on one's psychology.

I haven't mentioned how extremely fantastic the dining halls here are. They are very nicely furnished and stylishly decorated, and the food is served buffet-style. (The quality of the meals here is exponentially better than that of the food served in the NUS canteen - in fact, it really is just comparable to the usual standards one would expect from a mid-range restaurant in Singapore. I honestly expect myself to put on some weight throughout these 4 months since I will very likely be stuffing myself unstoppably with food. This is excellent news for me, since my metabolism rate is so ridiculously high that I always have trouble trying to gain enough bulk to remove myself from the underweight category. (I need two more kilograms!)

Anyway, I shall end my meandering post by posting some random photographs of my campus and the areas in its proximity. I visited some scenic places outside the campus over the past few days too, but it was raining so torrentially that I didn't take any pictures. Boston's weather is unpredictable and somewhat eccentric. I shall revisit those spots on a sunny day and snap some photographs so that I can share them here. Meanwhile, enjoy what is currently available.

Evening traffic in Boston.
College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) - I'll be attending some of my classes here!
This was taken while I was sitting on a bench facing the enigmatic Charles River.
The silhouettes of campus buildings accentuated against the vivid blue sky.

An ideal place to catch up with friends and engage in idle chit-chat.

You'd probably think that this is a banner put up by those who oppose the tightening of gun laws...
... but it is actually made by those who want the sales of guns to be restricted.
A train operated by the MBTA. The transport system is affectionately referred to as the 'T' here.

Every building has an engraving narrating its own history.

Look what I stumbled across on campus!

I am definitely going to attend its services one day to see what it is really like.
I am so uncontrollably excited about the impending arrival of autumn - I can't wait to witness the transition of Boston from bright sunny colours to serene blushes of glimmering gold and burning crimson and enthralling orange.

That shall be all for now. Signed with love from America,

(The flag was hoisted only midway to mourn Senator Ted Kennedy's passing.)

Ill-informed, ill-composed musings

2009-08-25T06:00:00.004+08:00

Over dinner The Whale was enthusing over the fascinating ideas that he's learnt so far in the philosophy of language and briefly summarising for me some of the things that particularly attracted his attention. One of the scenarios presented by The Whale was majorly thought-provoking:

A deranged man suddenly barged into a fully occupied auditorium and shouted "Geek, geek, geek!" to the whole audience, who were understandably befuddled by his incoherent outburst, considering that none of them was well-versed at all in the insensible languages so frequently used by the mentally unstable people. Unbeknownst to the audience, the madman was really trying to tell everyone that it was raining heavily in Tibet (blatantly ignoring the blinding fact that Tibet's weather was of absolutely no interest to anybody not living in Tibet). Would one say that this madman's words possess meaning - notwithstanding his listeners' lack of understanding - insofar as he voiced those utterances with a conscious intention to convey a specific message?

Being woefully uneducated in the field - my limited knowledge comes solely from The Whale, in addition to the pathetic bits and pieces of literature I've sporadically read during the occasional times when I miraculously felt like being diligent - the immediate response that comes most instinctively to me is to say that the words uttered by this madman do contain meaning, since I think that inasmuch as the speaker is driven by a motive to deliberately articulate a certain thought, it is justified to treat his utterances as literally meaningful, even though the language in which he expresses himself may be totally inaccessible to everyone else. In my opinion, based on my current superficial command of the subject, meaning is purely speaker-dependent. Perhaps this view is inaccurately held, perhaps it arises from an inherent misunderstanding of the topic under discussion, perhaps it is a result of a huge poverty of information - if you think that I am wrong, or that I may change my mind upon further learning, I would greatly appreciate it if you leave a comment to enlighten me, to highlight considerations which I hitherto have not entertained. But, for now, please kindly continue reading the remainder of this entry. To those who disagree with my stand, I shall now use an analogy - one which I deem appropriate, though you may beg to differ - to elaborate why I think that opposing stand is a highly problematic one:

Let us imagine that a stadium is completely filled with Caucasians who do not understand a single word of Mandarin. They are so unacquainted with the language that they can't recognise it in both its written and spoken forms - if you show them sentences written in Mandarin, they would mistake these writings to be unintelligible doodles drawn by a bored kindergartner; if you attempt to initiate a conversation with them in Mandarin, they would simply think that you are spewing indecipherable gibberish. In other words, Mandarin speakers are to these Caucasians exactly no different from the madman who keeps screaming "Geek, geek, geek!" at the top of his lungs. Now, suppose that a native Chinese - who is very angry at his government because he thinks that it is subjecting the Tibetans to hideous cruelty in disgracefully inhuman ways - ran into this stadium to vent his frustration by yelling passionately in Mandarin repeatedly, "Human rights are being violated in Tibet!" Naturally, the Caucasians are taken aback by the unexpected appearance of this unwelcome visitor, and they promptly escort him out of the stadium so that their activities can resume. To these Caucasians, the Chinese man is no more than an annoying lunatic who enjoys disturbing everyone with his incomprehensible drivel.

This analogy serves to illustrate why I do not subscribe to the stand adopted by my opponents. Allow me to go on. If you wish to deny that the madman's words in the first scenario encompass any sort of meaning, you should - in order to uphold the virtue of consistency - also admit that the Chinese man's words are utterly bereft of any meaning in the second situation. Yet I am quite sure that you are pretty unwilling to say that. Presumably, the absurdity of contending that the Chinese man does not mean anything when spouting sentences in Mandarin in a place full of non-Mandarin-speaking individuals should be abundantly clear to you. If you insist that meaning is not (merely) speaker-dependent, then you'll just have to bite the bullet and accept the absurd implications entailed by your stand (and maybe also explain why it is really not very undesirable), or dissect my analogy and point out why it is not entirely unsuitable, or present a good counter-argument. I don't mind if you dismantle my argument, since I also stand to benefit intellectually from your input, if your line of reasoning is sturdy and persuasive. If you agree with me but think that my analogy can be better refined by more polishing, I also warmly invite you to make your contribution.

Keep in mind that you cannot dodge the difficulty by saying that Mandarin has meaning by virtue of the fact that it has more than one speakers who are equipped with a reasonable grasp of its grammar, pronunciation and syntax, because the scenario has been carefully set up in such a way that there is just no discernible difference between the native Chinese and a madman who speaks in a strange tongue of his own invention. In fact, there is actually no need to stretch your imagination that much if you find yourself somehow unable to picture a large group of Caucasians who does not have even a vague inkling of what Mandarin sounds like, given the ubiquity of it these days - there is already a plethora of examples readily available in real life, in the form of moribund/endangered languages. Last year, the Alaskan language Eyak became extinct when its last surviving speaker passed away. So let us visualise that, in 2008, this person tried verbalising his thoughts in Eyak to a room full of puzzled strangers - obviously no one could relate to what he was uttering, and his audience probably felt irrepressibly tempted to just send him to a mental asylum. Would you say that this Eyak speaker's words were clearly devoid of meaning? Honestly, I doubt so.

Ultimately, what constitutes a language? What precisely separates the lonely Eyak speaker from a madman whose train of thoughts so deftly eludes our comprehension? Perhaps we are in significant need of a more liberal definition of language - perhaps a language comprises nothing more than a bank of vocabulary and some general linguistic rules to dictate the myriad ways in which these words should be employed to produce sound phrases; a depository of discrete words that form lucid sentences when conforming to an underlying structure, even in the case when its fundamental design is only known by one lone man. This generous interpretation of language would nicely accommodate the madman's idiosyncratic musings about Tibet's weather, while the Eyak speaker fades quietly away into the shadows of oblivion, creating mythical poetry about Alaska's beautiful midnight sun in his solitary brew, drowning in a forgotten world of muted monologues and prolonged silence.

Leaving on a jet plane

2009-08-24T17:52:00.006+08:00

Dear World, I shall see you again soon.

BOSTON.

26 August - 21 December

NEW YORK.

22 December - 3 January

On post-graduate education in philosophy

2009-08-17T18:20:00.007+08:00

[Currently reading the latest issue of Time magazine]
[Currently listening to Stars' The Woods]

[Update: The Third Biblical Patriarch commented in passing at the meeting today that Professor Sicily walks with a beautiful listlessness. I find his description very lovely.]

A tea gathering was held this afternoon to welcome Professor Zhuxi, the Chairman of the Philosophy Department of the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill (UNC-CH). (I know you can easily find out his name by visiting UNC-CH's webpage, but I don't want my blog to show up if he ever decides to key his own name into the Google search engine.) The NUS Philosophy Department is currently trying to establish a Joint-Degree Programme (JDP) with UNC-CH, and Professor Zhuxi met up with us to find out how NUS students can benefit from the JDP. Initially I was quite nervous since I was expecting something very formal (and I'm generally a socially awkward person), and furthermore only six students were invited - three of whom are extremely brilliant seniors (I later found out that one of them intends to study law in either Cambridge or Oxford after graduating from NUS, and another is considering whether to pursue post-graduate philosophical studies at Cambridge) - and so I was expecting myself to be left out. But the meeting turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable and fruitful session, as Professor Zhuxi is a very jovial man with a witty sense of humour that really puts people at ease. He also provided some good pointers on applying for post-graduate studies in philosophy, which I shall share here since quite a number of fellow philosophy majors read this blog. I think what I am going to share here is probably not a big secret, but nevertheless it serves as a helpful reminder.

1. If you understand Mandarin and if you can find an area in Chinese philosophy which appeals to you to a reasonable extent, it is highly encouraged that you take more classes in that particular field and possibly make it one of your main research areas, because there is a huge dearth of scholars in Chinese philosophy in North American, European and Australian colleges, and you can advertise yourself more easily when applying to these schools if you have some understanding of the subject. Being equipped with a foundation in Chinese philosophy as well as the ability to understand the language would give you a notable edge over other applicants, because the philosophy departments in these countries are seeking students who are adequately versed in Chinese philosophy to contribute to their diversity. Professor Zhuxi thus commented that it is very strategic to school yourself in some Eastern philosophy if you aim to qualify for graduate school. I think the same can be said for any other aspect of Eastern philosophy, and it would be exceptionally helpful if you are also sufficiently proficient in the relevant language. An in-depth knowledge of German, French, Latin and/or Greek would also give you a considerable advantage.

2. If you intend to specialise in analytical philosophy, learning advanced logic would actually help you enormously in assessing and understanding the arguments presented by thinkers in the arena, since most of the fallacies committed are very often not obvious to students untrained in higher levels of logic. I believe that many of us are already somewhat aware of this, but the importance of receiving formal instruction in advanced logic to students interested in analytical philosophy was specially highlighted today by Professor Zhuxi. If you are planning to go a foreign university to participate in its student exchange programme, you might want to consider registering for classes in advanced logic, since the repertoire of classes in logic offered by NUS is seriously pathetic. NUS only offers one module in logic, and you only get to learn propositional and predicate logic, which honestly aren't half as useful as symbolic logic and modal logic. [Update on 17 August at 8.05p.m.: I just found out that NUS does offer a course titled Philosophical Logic, but it hasn't been taught since the second semester of academic year 2003/2004.]

3. Most American universities are willing to waive tuition fees completely, and financial aid is also quite widely available in Australian schools. American colleges usually require you to take two to three years of coursework before you start writing your doctorate thesis, whereas Australian schools allow you to graduate by the end of three years by asking you to start working on your doctorate thesis immediately upon enrollment.

4. If you are interested in the philosophy of science, you will definitely need an extremely strong grasp of at least one of the three main sciences (chemistry, physics and biology). You will need to constantly upgrade yourself by acquainting yourself regularly with updates on the latest and most cutting-edge findings in science. You can look up to Professor Berliner, who specialises in the philosophy of science, as your role model - he has a Master's degree in Physics and a Ph.D. in Philosophy. Cambridge University has a highly esteemed post-graduate programme designed specifically for students who want to learn more about the topic, but the department is apparently quite small according to Professor Zhuxi. University of Pittsburgh also offers a rigourous syllabus in the subject, but it concentrates more on the historical aspects rather than the theoretical and metaphysical components.

If you wish to pursue post-graduate studies in philosophy, I think it is time that you start making plans already. It is never too early to begin!

One coincidence does not make a deity

2009-08-17T02:40:00.003+08:00

[My mother forcefully dragged me to a Buddhist temple located in Bugis and made me offer prayers, so that I can travel to the United States under Buddha's auspices. The following conversation ensued while we were walking home.]

Me: Eh, you are very superstitious, you know. Unless Buddha is going to be my pilot or my security guard, praying to him is useless.
Mum: You are very frivolous. Sometimes praying to Buddha really does work wonders.
Me: Give me an example.
Mum: OK, I shall tell you about an incident which took place while you were still dating that boy from China.
Me: Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
Mum: At that time I was hoping that your relationship with him would come to an end lah, since he was such an annoying boy - so possessive, so emotionally unstable and so unreasonable. Not to mention that he was also a crybaby. I mean, he threw a tantrum and cried just because your male friend sent you a message wishing you a happy Chinese New Year! And also...
Me: Yes, yes. Go straight to the point please.
Mum: So, anyway, I knew you weren't happy with him lah. So I came to this temple and prayed to Buddha that he would initiate a break-up, since I knew you were too soft-hearted to dump him. You had very bad taste in boys, you know?
Me: Er...
Mum: I came here, I cast the divination blocks and consulted an assistant at the temple.
Me: ...
Mum: He said that I had to give your personal information to a medium, who would then chant a spell. The spell would influence the boy to leave you. I paid a total of $30 for the medium's services leh. It wasn't cheap!
Me: ...
Mum: But it was worth it, because it worked! Soon after that, that boy asked to break up with you. See? I did you a favour!
Me: ...
Mum: What? Aren't you happy that the vermin is out of your life?
Me: I say good riddance to my past relationship, but I hope that you won't do the same to my current one.
Mum: Oh, no lah, I won't. The boy you're seeing right now is a good boy. Your taste has improved tremendously.
Me: Thank you. That's reassuring to hear.

Singlish-speaking white boy

2009-08-11T05:02:00.001+08:00

Depressant drug for the perennially cheerful

2009-08-10T17:21:00.001+08:00

I think they should feed this to Dr Sydney Heron in Grey's Anatomy.

Throwing away like rags/ all we've had for decades

2009-08-08T20:18:00.006+08:00

[Currently reading Alan Moore's V for Vendetta]
[Currently listening to Mew's She Came Home for Christmas]

Sorry that I haven't exactly written much about Korea - I intend to do so in this entry, but before I embark on making records of my short trip, kindly allow me to gush first about my new favourite person on Earth, who is actually a fictional character. (I think this reveals a lot about how much esteem I really have for real human beings.)

I have been engaged in an extensive marathon these days, watching drama serials such as the wildly entertaining Grey's Anatomy (and also others like the intelligent Japanese detective series Galileo and the reasonably sophisticated Damages) for countless hours on end. My favourite character in the show is easily Cristina Yang, because she's so abrasively cynical, because her sense of humour is so amusingly acerbic, because she's so amazingly witty, because she's often so distant and impenetrable, because she's so coolly rational - I harbour a great deal of admiration for her cold, dispassionate intellect. She is overall a very well-developed character - she is very prideful, extremely competitive, immovably stubborn, and yet she is willing to unreservedly surrender her invulnerability for her loved ones. Sometimes her feelings defiantly erode her proud resistance and come into dominion, sometimes we witness her acts of giving up her principles in an attempt to protect the people she cherishes from harm, sometimes her heart smugly overpowers her rationality - for friendship and love she often softens herself, and those occasional times when we are allowed glimpses into her hidden tender side are moments that indubitably define her as human. Sandra Oh is an incredibly fine actress, manoeuvring between nonchalant indifference and subtle emotion with marvellous aplomb and finesse, portraying all the nuances of crushing devastation and the shades of ineffable joy experienced by her character with an inimitable poetic grace. The closest thing to "I love you" Cristina Yang could ever say to Preston Burke while he was wide awake was "Don't ever die"; and in the end when he disappeared completely from her life without a single hint of a trace, all she could do was to break down uncontrollably in tears while whispering with a pained, sorrowful exhilaration, "I am free." She was free; she could go back to being Cristina Yang instead of living the rest of her life pretending to be the ideal woman Burke desired her to be; and the freedom suddenly bestowed upon her by his final goodbye was wordlessly breathtaking. She was free, and yet she was also irreparably broken, trapped powerlessly in the ghost of her past with Burke.

Now that I am finally done explaining why I am so irredeemably in love with Cristina Yang, it is time to begin writing about my brief sojourn in Korea, which came to its conclusion some time ago. I've been putting off the task of penning a travelogue as a result of being plagued by an indescribable sense of irritable ennui, but I guess it is high time for me to organise my thoughts and dutifully produce an entry detailing my experiences, since the longer I postpone this task the greater the likelihood that my memory will eventually fail me. So here is a short entry to commit to permanent record the numerous observations I made as well as the various insights I obtained throughout my short stay there. I am lucky to have the company of a friend who has more or less seamlessly assimilated into the Korean society, and her elucidations have been most helpful.

As already pointed out in an earlier entry, the construction projects in Korea are almost entirely monopolised by the private sector. As a result of the corporatisation of housing development, South Korea has its fair share of homeless folks who aimlessly roam the streets and sleep on park benches at night, though I did not bump into too great a number of them during my trip there. Those born in affluent families inherit sufficient wealth and property to enjoy a comfortable livelihood without having to work at all - they are able to receive an adequate amount of income just by leasing their estate. In Singapore, where most of the housing endeavours are undertaken by the government, it is truly a rarity to see homeless people gallivanting around the neighbourhoods.

Given the fact that the poorer classes do not receive subsidies for housing in Korea, I was quite surprised to discover that South Korea has a lower Gini coefficient than Singapore, i.e., the income gap in South Korea is actually less insurmountable by a significant margin, and in general South Korea is still a more egalitarian society, if statistics alone are a reliable indicator of the social equality. In the absence of supplementary information, I am just going to take a wild guess and speculate that this phenomenon can perhaps be partly attributed to the fact that the labour laws in South Korea stipulate a minimum wage for employees. My friend also told me that, unlike in Singapore, construction workers in Korea are paid quite handsomely relative to their counterparts holding other occupations, as construction work entails high risks of causing irreversible physical harm to employees.

In Korea, there seems to be tremendous societal pressure for everyone to conform uncomplainingly to social norms. On the trains there are several seats specially designated for the needy people, and local commuters who do not fall into the category of needy individuals insist on standing even when there is clearly no physically unfit/disabled person in sight. My friend explained to me that the act of taking a seat meant for the needy would draw so much backlash and harsh criticism that there is a huge disincentive for the physically healthy passengers to utilise those seats.

Speaking of subways, I once encountered a group of fervent Christians evangelists who chose to preach the gospel to everyone on the train. They went patiently from carriage and carriage to repeat the same biblical message. The team was led by a young lady who made a five-minute speech passionately encouraging non-believers to accept Christ. From what I could see, most of the people in my carriage looked rather bored, and didn't seem to be paying much attention to her at all. Another incident in Korea also gave me an inkling of just how famous Pastor Kong Hee (the founder of the City Harvest Church in Singapore and the husband of the peerlessly disgusting singer Sun Ho) really is. I was at this quaint little shop which sold very lovely umbrellas of many tastefully unique designs, and the shop assistant who attended to me was thankfully able to speak some simple English. She made small talk with me when I told her that I am a foreigner, and upon learning that I am a Singaporean, she excitedly asked me if I had ever heard of Pastor Kong Hee. Worried that she might start waxing lyrical endlessly about the many merits of Christianity, I warily replied, "Yes, I know who he is", which elicited an even more enthusiastic response from her, "Really? You are his friend?" She probably grossly misunderstood me, thinking that I knew Pastor Kong Hee personally.

The number of Christians in South Korea is increasing quite steadily - they now constitute between 25 and 30 percent of the population. One of my friends acquaints himself with current affairs on a very regular basis, and he once told me that the incumbent President is a stoutly pious Christian who appoints his fellow churchgoers to ministerial positions. South Korea is supposed to be institutionally secular, and to enlist people into the public sector based on non-meritocratic religious grounds is a worrying gesture that threatens to undermine the non-sectarian foundation of the nation - and yet, surprisingly, there seems to be a lot of silence on this particular issue on the part of South Korea's political dissenters. Given South Korea's decent showing in the latest international press freedom rankings published by Reporters Without Borders, one would expect that official avenues are not uncommonly available for advocates of secularism to voice their disapproval, and yet there is apparently very little noise being made about the President's conduct. It thus seems more likely that there is a disturbing want of secularists in South Korea - something which is perhaps even more unsettling than the President's actions. [Erratum on 10 August, 7.49p.m.: According to a reader, apparently the South Koreans did criticise their President earlier this year for being biased in favour of Christians.]

Another thing I noticed about South Korea is how there is a depressing paucity of public libraries in that country. I did not come across a single community library throughout my entire trip there, and it immediately inspired within me a genuine appreciation of the fact that there is an abudance of community libraries in Singapore. Many printed resources are made readily available for perusal for free by the public here, and this is a luxury that the South Koreans do not enjoy. The newer additions to our National Library Board's chain of libraries are also very well-stocked and nicely furnished. As most of you probably know, there seriously aren't a lot of things that I like about Singapore, but I sincerely applaud the fact that we have such wonderful, accessible community libraries.

During my stay there, Ah Mah brought me to this wellness center which is located a comfortable distance away from the crowded urban areas and in the refreshing midst of trees and alluring nature. It is perched prettily atop a gentle slope at a higher altitude, where the air is generally much crisper and the breeze cooler. In the wellness center all activities are carried out in full public view. First we took a quick shower (my friend and I saw each other in complete naked glamour), and then we soaked ourselves wet in perspiration by staying in fomentation rooms where temperatures were set between 45 and 85 degree celsius, so that all our bodily toxins would be expelled. We then dried ourselves and relaxed happily in Jacuzzis filled with warm water and warm tea. There was also a medium-sized pool that contained freezingly cold water - I suspect the temperature was probably only around 10 degree celsius - and my friend told me that older women whose skin is wrinkled and sagging usually like to alternate between the warm tubs and the cold pools, because apparently doing so helps improve the condition of their skin. After submerging ourselves in Jacuzzis, we paid professional masseuses to massage and exfoliate our bodies, and the whole experience was so delightfully therapeutic and rejuvenating that by the time I stepped out of the wellness center, my skin felt unbelievably clean - as if it was absolutely unblemished and smooth and perfectly new - to the degree that I literally felt like I was a newborn baby just coming into this world, with beautifully tender and frail skin. I really am not exaggerating - that was just how reinvigourating it was. It was so enjoyable that I went back there with my friend again just two days later. On my second trip there, I also worked out a little bit at the gymnasium and my friend very kindly treated me to a massage.

When some of my friends heard about my visits to the wellness center, they asked if I was embarrassed about being nude in front of so many strangers. Honestly I wasn't, because everyone there bared her body with such careless insouciance that I soon banished my own reservations to the far end of the world as well. I probably should stop going on about the fact that I was naked though, lest some of you begin to imagine me involuntarily in my glorious nudity and become heavily traumatised as a consequence. Instead, I shall mention something even scarier in the hope that you will be even more frightened - I also saw a number of nuns there, and according to my friend, nuns pay discounted prices to enjoy the services there. I am hoping that you'll be more scarred by the image of naked nuns than by my nudity, since one of my missions in life is to emotionally injure as many people as possible, and I do it with a sadistic pleasure.

My friend also furnished me with random tidbits of information about Korea as well, which may appear quite odd upon first hearing them, but which are actually motivated by solidly good reasons.

For example, the bus and train services in Korea end earlier on weekends than on weekdays. This may seem quite silly initially, since usually the demand for public transport is higher on weekends. The rationale behind this policy is that bus and train drivers are entitled to having fun during weekend nights as well, and therefore they deserve to go home earlier from work to participate in late night activities with their friends. Cab drivers may choose whether to extend their shifts, and most cab drivers sensibly opt to do so, since there will be a large pool of potential customers. Since these cab drivers are all profit-driven, many of them would refuse to drive you if your home happens to be within proximity of the club you are visiting.

Another example is how Children's Day is declared a holiday for adults as well. My friend said that this is for the benefit of parents, so that they can spend the day with their kids instead of going to work. Needless to say, the children also get to enjoy quality time with their parents. If my current limited knowledge of Korea is anything to rely on, I find that the labour policies in Korea are generally more employee-/family-oriented than those in Singapore.

Due to the short duration of my trip, these superficial observations are all that I managed to gather, and any inaccuracy contained herein is purely a result of ignorance. Any mistake highlighted will be promptly corrected, and this entry will be updated again if I recall anything that I have yet to include.

(P.S.: I didn't eat any live octopus.)

So the decision has been made for me

2009-08-08T04:15:00.002+08:00

[Currently reading Alan Moore's V for Vendetta]
[Currently listening to The Eames Era's Could be Anything]

In my previous entry, I asked for suggestions on which course to sign up for. Well, it turns out that my dilemma has been resolved for me. Here is an email from the instructor of CAS PH468 Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics (I waited one month for his reply!):

Dear Miao XX:

Thank you for your inquiry about my course. Unfortunately, CAS PH468 has been cancelled for technical reasons. I would, however, be very happy to talk to you about your philosophical interests during your visit.

Sincerely,
Jaakko Hintikka

So I'll definitely be taking CAS PH440 Metaphysics then. Thanks to all who bothered to leave comments on my previous post. Hopefully I'll have an opportunity to interact with Professor Hintikka - it would be a great honour to be able to benefit intellectually from him - but of course I'll have to go prepared with intelligent questions to ask. Will probably try to do some research on the philosophical areas in which he specialises so that I won't appear like an idiot in front of him. Maybe I should even buy one of his books and request that he autographs it.

Dilemma

2009-08-07T00:47:00.010+08:00

[Currently reading Alan Moore's V for Vendetta]
[Currently listening to Stars' The Night Starts Here]

I am well aware that my readership is rapidly dwindling due to the dismal dearth of interesting updates, but I am nevertheless still hoping I will gather enough suggestions to help me resolve my current predicament. This coming semester I will be heading to Boston University to participate in its student exchange programme, and I am really undecided on which of these two philosophy classes to attend:

CAS PH 440 Metaphysics

A study of the themes of Being, God, Space, Time, and Eternity as they should be treated for a contemporary philosophy.

CAS PH 468 Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics

Selected traditional metaphysical and epistemological problems in the light of modern logic and various studies in the foundations of mathematics, including the nature of the axiomatic method, completeness in logic and mathematics, and the nature of mathematical truth.

Each module has its own pros and cons. Let's take a look at them.

Advantages that Metaphysics offer over Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics: I have taken several classes on metaphysical topics over the past few semesters, whereas I have only attended one introductory course in logic before. Therefore, I am relatively more well-equipped to tackle the contents of Metaphysics. There is not much of a point attending Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics if I am not armed with the requisite foundation to digest its material, even though it may be highly entertaining. I am also allowed to register for Metaphysics without the instructor's consent, whereas this is not so for Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics. I have sent an email to the professor who will be teaching Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics to seek his permission, but he has yet to reply. I am allowed to sign up for it online, by without his express consent, he is at liberty to remove my name from his class whenever he likes.

Advantages that Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics offer over Metaphysics: If I am not wrong, NUS has courses whose contents approximate those of Metaphysics (though nothing completely identical), but NUS does not offer anything that is even remotely similar to Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics. Furthermore, Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics will be taught by a very eminent professor who has himself made extremely important contributions to logic. He is the pioneer of game-theoretical semantics, and he is also famous for being "one of the architects of distributive normal forms, possible-worlds semantics, tree methods, infinitely deep logics, and the present-day theory of inductive generalization". (I quote a passage on him.) The opportunity to be taught by him very likely comes only once in a lifetime.

Disadvantages that both modules seem to have: If the reviews on ratemyprofessors.com are anything to go by at all, the professor who will be teaching Metaphysics is described by many pupils as an arrogant, egotistic snob who won't condescend to explain difficult concepts to confused students; and the professor who will be teaching Philosophical Problems of Logic and Mathematics is a genius with a gentle avuncular disposition, but he unfortunately speaks with a largely incomprehensible Finnish accent, in addition to being incredibly hard of hearing. Apparently, he is also a very disorganised teacher. I know I really shouldn't be over-reliant on such reviews, for these comments might have been written out of spite by vengeful students who probably had some personal vendetta against the said professors, but at the same time one of my main concerns is whether the instructors will be capable of delivering their course material with clarity, patience and style, so that I will be able to enrich myself and improve the quality of my education to the fullest extent possible.

So here are the reasons for preferring each of them over the other, and I desperately need help here, because I seriously hate the fact that I am being so annoyingly indecisive. It doesn't matter if you don't have any background in philosophy, and it is perfectly all right if you totally don't understand what on Earth metaphysics or mathematical/philosophical logic is about, please just kindly take some time and leave me a note, telling me which module you find more appealing and why. Thank you.

(P.S.: I once wrote an essay - for which I did ridiculously well, I am honestly not unabashed to say - on a paper penned by philosopher Miranda Fricker, and later I will be meeting her at a seminar! This is somewhat exciting and vaguely cool, because how many of you have actually had the chance to meet someone who is based in another country and whose scholarly work you once discussed in a paper?)

Oh and how the violins sing

2009-08-05T16:35:00.004+08:00

Visit their MySpace page here.

Listen to the song on last.fm.

This is what you call a civilisation

2009-07-31T20:56:00.005+08:00

[Addendum: I remember that there was an exchange student from Norway who attended the same classes as me two semesters ago. She told me that after her stint at NUS, she would be heading to a South African college to spend another semester. If I heard her correctly, her government sponsors all the expenses incurred during her stay overseas, because the country wishes its students to explore more of the world beyond Europe.]

Minxin Pei's Think Again: Asia's Rise

2009-07-07T11:01:00.002+08:00

Think Again: Asia's Rise
By Minxin Pei
Published on Foreign Policy, 22 June 2009

Don't believe the hype about the decline of America and the dawn of a new Asian age. It will be many decades before China, India, and the rest of the region take over the world, if they ever do.

"Power Is Shifting from West to East."

Not really. Dine on a steady diet of books like The New Asian Hemisphere: The Irresistible Shift of Global Power to the East or When China Rules the World, and it's easy to think that the future belongs to Asia. As one prominent herald of the region's rise put it, "We are entering a new era of world history: the end of Western domination and the arrival of the Asian century."

Sustained, rapid economic growth since World War ii has undeniably boosted the region's economic output and military capabilities. But it's a gross exaggeration to say that Asia will emerge as the world's predominant power player. At most, Asia's rise will lead to the arrival of a multi-polar world, not another unipolar one.

Asia is nowhere near closing its economic and military gap with the West. The region produces roughly 30 percent of global economic output, but because of its huge population, its per capita gdp is only $5,800, compared with $48,000 in the United States. Asian countries are furiously upgrading their militaries, but their combined military spending in 2008 was still only a third that of the United States. Even at current torrid rates of growth, it will take the average Asian 77 years to reach the income of the average American. The Chinese need 47 years. For Indians, the figure is 123 years. And Asia's combined military budget won't equal that of the United States for 72 years.

In any case, it is meaningless to talk about Asia as a single entity of power, now or in the future. Far more likely is that the fast ascent of one regional player will be greeted with alarm by its closest neighbors. Asian history is replete with examples of competition for power and even military conflict among its big players. China and Japan have fought repeatedly over Korea; the Soviet Union teamed up with India and Vietnam to check China, while China supported Pakistan to counterbalance India. Already, China's recent rise has pushed Japan and India closer together. If Asia is becoming the world's center of geopolitical gravity, it's a murky middle indeed.

Those who think Asia's gains in hard power will inevitably lead to its geopolitical dominance might also want to look at another crucial ingredient of clout: ideas. Pax Americana was made possible not only by the overwhelming economic and military might of the United States but also by a set of visionary ideas: free trade, Wilsonian liberalism, and multilateral institutions. Although Asia today may have the world's most dynamic economies, it does not seem to play an equally inspiring role as a thought leader. The big idea animating Asians now is empowerment; Asians rightly feel proud that they are making a new industrial revolution. But self-confidence is not an ideology, and the much-touted Asian model of development does not seem to be an exportable product.

"Asia's Rise Is Unstoppable."

Don't bet on it. Asia's recent track record might seem to guarantee its economic superpower status. Goldman Sachs, for instance, expects that China will surpass the United States in economic output in 2027 and India will catch up by 2050.

Given Asia's relatively low per capita income, its growth rate will indeed outpace the West's for the foreseeable future. But the region faces enormous demographic hurdles in the decades ahead. More than 20 percent of Asians will be elderly by 2050. Aging is a principal cause of Japan's stagnation. China's elderly population will soar in the middle of the next decade. Its savings rate will fall while healthcare and pension costs explode. India is a lone exception to these trends-any one of which could help stall the region's growth.

Environmental and natural resource constraints could also prove crippling. Pollution is worsening Asia's shortage of fresh water while air pollution exacts a terrible toll on health (it kills almost 400,000 people each year in China alone). Without revolutionary advances in alternative energy, Asia could face a severe energy crunch. Climate change could devastate the region's agriculture.

The current economic crisis, moreover, will lead to huge overcapacity as Western demand evaporates. Asian companies, facing anemic consumer demand at home, will not be able to sell their products in the region. The Asian export-dependent model of development will either disappear or cease to be a viable engine of growth.

Political instability could also throw Asia's economic locomotive off course. State collapse in Pakistan or a military conflict on the Korean Peninsula could wreak havoc. Rising inequality and endemic corruption in China could fuel social unrest and cause its economic growth to sputter. And if a democratic breakthrough somehow forces the Communist Party from power, China is most likely to enter a lengthy period of unstable transition, with a weak central government and mediocre economic performance.

"Asian Capitalism Is More Dynamic."

Hardly. With the United States brought low by Wall Street and the European economy enfeebled by its welfare state and inflexible labor market, most Asian economies appear in great shape. It is tempting to say that Asia's unique brand of capitalism, by seamlessly weaving together strategic state intervention, corporate long-term thinking, and insuppressible popular desire for material betterment, will outcompete either the greed-devastated U.S. model or the hidebound European variant.

But though Asian economies - with the notable exception of Japan - are among the fastest-growing in the world today, there's little real evidence to suggest that their apparent dynamism comes from a mysteriously successful form of Asian capitalism. The truth is more mundane: The region's dynamism owes a great deal to its strong fundamentals (high savings, urbanization, and demographics) and the benefits of free trade, market reforms, and economic integration. Asia's relative backwardness is a blessing in one sense: Asian countries have to grow faster because they're starting from a much lower base.

Asian capitalism does have three unique features, but they do not necessarily confer competitive advantages. First, Asian states intervene more in the economy through industrial policy, infrastructural investment, and export promotion. But whether that has made Asian capitalism more dynamic remains an unresolved puzzle. The World Bank's classic 1993 study of the region, "The East Asian Miracle," could not find evidence that strategic intervention by the state is responsible for East Asia's success. Second, two types of companies-family-controlled conglomerates and giant, state-owned enterprises-dominate Asia's business landscape. Although such corporate ownership structures enable Asia's largest companies to avoid the short-termism of most American firms, they also shield them from shareholders and market pressures, making Asian firms less accountable, less transparent, and less innovative.

Finally, Asia's high savings rates, by providing a huge pool of indigenous capital, undeniably fuel the region's economic growth. But pity Asia's savers. Most of them save because their governments provide inadequate social safety nets. Government policies in Asia penalize savers through financial repression (by keeping deposit rates low and paying household savers measly returns on their savings) and reward producers by subsidizing capital (typically through low bank lending rates). Even export promotion, ostensibly an Asian virtue, seems overrated. Asian central banks have invested most of their massive export surpluses in low-yielding, dollar-dominated assets that will lose much of their value due to the long-term inflationary pressures generated by U.S. fiscal and monetary policies.

"Asia Will Lead the World in Innovation."

Not in our lifetime. If you look only at the growing number of U.S. patents awarded to Asian inventors, the United States appears to have a dramatically receding edge in innovation. South Korean inventors, for example, received 8,731 U.S. patents in 2008-compared with 13 in 1978. In 2008, close to 37,000 U.S. patents went to Japanese inventors. The trend seems sufficiently alarming that one study ranked the United States eighth in terms of innovation, behind Singapore, South Korea, and Switzerland.

Reports of the death of America's technological leadership are, to paraphrase Mark Twain, greatly exaggerated. Although Asia's advanced economies, such as Japan and South Korea, are closing the gap, the United States' lead remains huge. In 2008, American inventors were awarded 92,000 U.S. patents, twice the combined total given to South Korean and Japanese inventors. Asia's two giants, China and India, still lag far behind

Asia is pouring money into higher education. But Asian universities will not become the world's leading centers of learning and research anytime soon. None of the world's top 10 universities is located in Asia, and only the University of Tokyo ranks among the world's top 20. In the last 30 years, only eight Asians, seven of them Japanese, have won a Nobel Prize in the sciences. The region's hierarchical culture, centralized bureaucracy, weak private universities, and emphasis on rote learning and test-taking will continue to hobble its efforts to clone the United States' finest research institutions.

Even Asia's much-touted numerical advantage is less than it seems. China supposedly graduates 600,000 engineering majors each year, India another 350,000. The United States trails with only 70,000 engineering graduates annually. Although these numbers suggest an Asian edge in generating brainpower, they are thoroughly misleading. Half of China's engineering graduates and two thirds of India's have associate degrees. Once quality is factored in, Asia's lead disappears altogether. A much-cited 2005 McKinsey Global Institute study reports that human resource managers in multinational companies consider only 10 percent of Chinese engineers and 25 percent of Indian engineers as even "employable," compared with 81 percent of American engineers.

"Dictatorship Has Given Asia an Advantage."

No. Autocracies, mainly in East Asia, may seem to have made their countries prosperous. The so-called dragon economies of South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, Indonesia under Suharto, and now China experienced their fastest growth under nondemocratic regimes. Frequent comparisons between China and India appear to support the view that a one-party state unencumbered by messy competitive politics can deliver economic goods better than a multiparty system tied down by too much democracy.

But Asia also has had many autocracies that have impoverished their countries - consider the tragic list of Burma, Pakistan, North Korea, Laos, Cambodia under the murderous Khmer Rouge, and the Philippines under Ferdinand Marcos. Even China is a mixed example. Before the Middle Kingdom emerged from self-imposed isolation and totalitarian rule in 1976, its economic growth was subpar. China under Mao also had the dubious distinction of producing the world's worst famine.

Even when you look at autocracies credited with economic success, you find two interesting facts. First, their economic performance improved when they became less brutal and allowed greater personal and economic freedoms. Second, the keys to their successes were sensible economic policies, such as conservative macroeconomic management, infrastructural investment, promotion of savings, and pushing exports. Dictatorship really has no magic formula for economic development.

Comparing a one-party state like China with a democracy such as India is not an easy intellectual exercise. Obviously, India has many weaknesses: widespread poverty, poor infrastructure, and minimal social services. China appears to have done much better in these areas. But appearances can be deceiving. Dictatorships are good at concealing the problems they create while democracy is good at advertising its defects.

So the autocratic advantage in Asia is, at best, an optical illusion.

"China Will Dominate Asia."

Not likely. China is on course to overtake Japan as the world's second-largest economy this year. As the regional economic hub, China is now driving Asia's economic integration. Beijing's diplomatic influence is expanding as well, supposedly thanks to its newfound soft power. Even China's once antiquated military has acquired a full plethora of new weapons systems and significantly improved its ability to project force.

Although it is true that China will become Asia's strongest country by any measure, its rise has inherent limits. China is unlikely to dominate Asia in the sense that it replaces the United States as the region's peacekeeper and decisively influences other countries' foreign policies. Its economic growth is also by no means guaranteed. Restive secession-minded minorities (Tibetans and Uighurs) inhabit strategically important areas that constitute almost 30 percent of Chinese territory. Taiwan, which is unlikely to return to China's fold anytime soon, ties down substantial Chinese military resources. The ruling Chinese Communist Party, which views perpetuating its one-party state as more important than overseas expansionism, is not likely to be seduced by delusions of imperial grandeur.

China has formidable neighbors in Russia, India, and Japan that will fiercely resist any Chinese attempts to become the regional hegemon. Even Southeast Asia, where China appears to have reaped the most geopolitical gains in recent years, has been reluctant to fall into China's orbit completely. Nor would the United States simply capitulate in the face of a Chinese juggernaut.

For complex reasons, China's rise has inspired fear and unease, not enthusiasm, among Asians. Only 10 percent of Japanese, 21 percent of South Koreans, and 27 percent of Indonesians surveyed by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs said they would be comfortable with China being the future leader of Asia.

So much for China's charm offensive.

"America Is Losing Influence in Asia."

Definitely not. Bogged down in Iraq and Afghanistan and mired in a deep recession, the United States certainly looks like a superpower in decline. Its influence in Asia has apparently receded as well, with the formerly mighty dollar in less demand than the Chinese yuan and the North Korean regime openly flaunting Washington's will. But it is premature to declare the end of U.S. geopolitical preeminence in Asia. In all likelihood, the self-correcting mechanisms in its political and economic systems will enable the United States to recover from its current setbacks.

America's leadership in Asia derives from many sources, not just its military or economic heft. Like beauty, a country's geopolitical influence is often in the eye of the beholder. Although some view the United States' declining influence in Asia as a fact, many Asians think otherwise. Sixty-nine percent of Chinese, 75 percent of Indonesians, 76 percent of South Koreans, and 79 percent of Japanese in the Chicago Council's surveys said that U.S. influence in Asia had risen over the past decade.

Another, perhaps more important, reason for the enduring American preeminence in Asia is that most countries in the region welcome Washington as the guarantor of Asia's peace. Asian elites from New Delhi to Tokyo continue to count on Uncle Sam to keep a watchful eye on Beijing.

Whether it's over blown or not, Asia is poised to increase its geopolitical and economic influence rapidly in the decades to come. It has already become one of the pillars of the international order. But in thinking about Asia's future, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Its economic ascent is not written in the stars. And given the cultural differences and history of intense rivalry among the region's countries, Asia is unlikely to achieve any degree of regional political unity and evolve into an EU-like entity in our lifetime. Henry Kissinger once famously asked, "Who do I call if I want to call Europe?" We can ask the same question about Asia.

All told, Asia's rise should present more opportunities than threats. The region's growth not only has lifted hundreds of millions out of poverty, but also will increase demand for Western products. Its internal fissures will allow the United States to check the geopolitical influence of potential rivals such as China and Russia with manageable costs and risks. And hopefully, Asia's rise will provide the competitive pressures urgently needed for Westerners to get their own houses in order—without succumbing to hype or hysteria.

Want to Know More?

In IThe Dark Side of China's Rise" (FOREIGN POLICY, March/April 2006), Minxin Pei examines the corruption and waste threatening China's dizzying economic growth.

Well before the "Asian century" fervor exploded, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn predicted in Thunder from the East: Portrait of a Rising Asia (New York: Knopf, 2000) that the "center of the world" would eventually "settle in Asia". Kishore Mahbubani's The New Asian Hemisphere: The Irresistible Shift of Global Power to the East (New York: PublicAffairs, 2008) has become the foundational text of the Asian-century school of thought.

The China vs. India debate shows no signs of abating. In "The Next Asian Miracle" (FOREIGN POLICY, July/August 2008), Yasheng Huang makes the case that India's democratic institutions will give it a long-term growth advantage over China. Razeen Sally dismisses that suggestion in "Don’t Believe the India Hype" (Far Eastern Economic Review, May 1, 2009) on the grounds that India continues to neglect its labor-intensive sectors and avoids reforming its institutions. University of California, Berkeley, economics professor Pranab Bardhan has been one of the few respected analysts to reject both the China hype and the India hype, for reasons he lays out in "China, India Superpower? Not So Fast!" (YaleGlobal Online, Oct. 25, 2005).

Not everyone thinks that Asia’' rise implies an inexorable decline in American influence. Anne-Marie Slaughter argues in "America's Edge: Power in the Networked Century" (Foreign Affairs, January/February 2009) that the 21st century will, in fact, be an American one because the United States enjoys unrivaled "connectedness."

Gayle Goh's Do We Owe Our Existence to the PAP?

2009-07-02T15:34:00.003+08:00

Do We Owe Our Existence to the PAP?
By Gayle Goh
Published on http://i-speak.blogdrive.com/, 2 May 2006

We have been hardwired since young to be grateful in everything to the People's Action Party. We have been conditioned to accept the abrogation of our democratic freedoms as a necessary inconvenience for the sake of prosperity. We have been primed to forgive any injustice committed by the ruling elite in the name of continued progress under the guidance of benevolent paternalism -- the government knows best.

I remember the issue being discussed countless times in class. Whether in an honestly indignant manner, or in the form of a light-hearted jest, or even a sardonic diatribe, my peers and I have raised our protests against the form of rule present in Singapore to our elders. Time and time again, I have heard the same answer: that is the sacrifice. Freedom is less important than stability. Stability has given us prosperity.

Now, in the heat of the elections, the same thing is once more on everyone's lips. Freedom is less important than stability. Stability has given us prosperity. We owe everything to the PAP. Without them, we wouldn't be here today. After all, there was a time when people said that Singapore won't make it -- but we did!

Let's do ourselves the favour of honesty today, and ask if what the PAP accomplished for Singapore was really such a miracle. Let's ask ourselves if it's been worth the sacrifice.

Singapore has long been known as one of the four East Asian tigers, which also include Hong Kong, South Korea and Taiwan. These countries were part of the Newly Industrialised Economies, which emerged in the 1960's, mostly a product of decolonization, and faced the challenge of industrialisation and development in an increasingly globalised world where other countries had already had a headstart.

Nevertheless, the four tigers followed a generic formula to success; rapid industrialisation and an export-oriented economy, with the aid available from various external agents including the World Bank, the IMF, and of course the then-hegemonic United States, who had virtually reconstructed the post-war economies worldwide in a colossal, unilateral effort. Their currencies were devalued to make their goods cheaper, and foreign advisers were brought into the countries to offer their expert opinions on the situation (the famous Dr. Albert Winsemius, in Singapore's case). The governments focussed their efforts onto education, as well as expansionary fiscal policies to create jobs and stimulate their infant economies.

Singapore had natural economic advantages to help her on her way to achieve the stunning growth she has displayed. Chief among them, perhaps, was her strategic location along major trading routes leading to the Far East, hence Singapore's invaluable contribution to British profiteering in Southeast Asia during the age of colonialism. Bustling port activity had already given her a headstart in development in comparison to Malaysia. In fact, the different nature of Singapore's far more developed, industrialised and high-end economy in the years of de-colonization as opposed to Malaysia's less developed, more agrarian economy was a very big worry on the part of the British, and one of the foremost reasons raised why Singapore should not merge with Malaysia. Singapore had already displayed not only a potential for, but also a track record of prosperity and development before the PAP was ever in the picture.

It is therefore perfectly understandable why, given these natural advantages as well as the favourable climate of the international economy at that time (it was during the period which has been termed the 'Golden Age of Capitalism', lasting from 1947 to 1974, and flanked by the Marshall Plan and the OPEC oil crisis), the East Asian tigers flourished and prospered. So what, if anything set Singapore apart? What was unique about our development strategy?

The answer comes, predictably, in the form of strict governance -- not in the mere presence of strictness, as some degree of authoritarianism was exercised in the early stages of Taiwan's and South Korea's development as well. But Singapore is unique in the extent of its authoritarianism, and the length of time during which this authoritarian rule has been sustained. Labour unions were de-politicised, collective bargaining power restricted, and trade union interests were subordinated to those of the State. [Note: please don't believe a word of what Lee Hsien Loong says when he tries to make it sound like it's better for workers this way because Union leaders have a place in Cabinet. While I applaud his rhetorical twist and his laudable optimism in seeing the glass as half full, let's not kid ourselves -- they are Ministers in charge of the Unions, not Union leaders in charge of the country.] In addition to the labour restrictions, we also saw high levels of government involvement and ownership in production, financing and marketing through the existence of statutory boards. Beyond economics, we also saw a strong government presence in the media, and tight restrictions placed on the freedom of speech, assembly, protest., and so on.

In South Korea, we also did see suppression of labour movements, but this at least came with a guarantee of a minimum wage; the Singaporean government gave us no such guarantee. Furthermore, the proliferation of government/ex-government ministers in so many sectors -- the media, the union congress, etc., meant a depth of intervention unparalleled in the East Asian tigers. Singapore too has been the only country out of the original four to still hang on to its authoritarianism. South Korea has long abandoned the suppression of the labour movement, since 1987 in fact.

What were the results of our authoritarian regime? Lower wages, lots of rich government-linked companies who had access to our national reserves, and people who couldn't complain. Good things in and of themselves, perhaps, but hardly instrumental in Singapore's success. No, that was predicated on the other constants which had held true in South Korea, Hong Kong and Taiwan who had not embarked on similarly interventionist policies, with the exception perhaps of South Korea, where the chaebols crowded out many competing firms in production, contributing towards South Korea's collapse in the Asian Crisis of 1997-1998. Hong Kong adopted positive non-interference, becoming the most extreme example of a free-market economy in the world, while Taiwan took the route of passive interference, with gradually declining government intervention as the years went on. That's with regards to economics -- with regards to things like press freedom, one only has to look to the Reporters Without Borders' index of press freedom today. South Korea is 48th, Taiwan is 60th, Hong Kong is 34th, Singapore is 147th. Please, don't tell me Singapore's economy will die if we have a free press.

All these countries achieved sterling growth, but the important thing to note is that an all-knowing, clairvoyant, authoritarian government that repressed freedoms and compromised on democracy was not necessary to achieving this growth. The 'constants' earlier mentioned which determined the East Asian tigers' success were factors like the access to foreign aid, available 1st world markets, the Confucian work ethic, et alii. The biggest justifications for our enforced stability, which were capital inflow and the benefits of foreign direct investment, were also constants available to these countries, not exclusive to Singapore in any way. Our contemporaries today enjoy success, progress, and stability with a free media, with labour unions, with less government intervention in the economy.

What are the questions this leads us to ask? Can we bear to admit to ourselves that our carefully-constructed world of police permits and suppressed labour unions and government involvement in large corporations did not need to be constructed for us to be enjoying the benefits of prosperity and consumerism today? If we can admit this, then what is our debt to the PAP? One of gratitude, certainly for their astute leadership. But not one of mindless bondage, not one of servitude, and not one of complete absolution and endorsement of the tactics by which they have achieved success. No longer should we say, "of course things should be this way, otherwise Singapore wouldn't be Singapore". If so, then South Korea wouldn't be South Korea, Taiwan wouldn't be Taiwan, Hong Kong wouldn't be Hong Kong, and Japan wouldn't be Japan. All these economies are either in close competition with us, our ahead of us today.

So the next time the PAP cadres stand up and say, our Ministers must be in our trade union in order for there to be progress and stability, the next time they say we must not have free speech or 'too much democracy' in order for there to be progress and stability, the next time they say the PAP and only the PAP can give us progress and stability, let us remember two things. Let us remember firstly that our economic success was due to a range of other, more instrumental factors which had to do with luck, coincidental timing and natural advantage, rather than suppression. Then let us remember also, that progress and stability, movies, toys, games, fabrics, gadgets, dollars and cents, are not the sum and whole of human welfare, which must include always the dignity of choosing the proxies by which we govern our own lives as a mature and civic society free of fear, oppression and systematic propaganda. Let us no longer accept excuses.

First day in Korea

2009-06-27T04:17:00.003+08:00

It is 5.17a.m. in Korea now (Korea's time zone is GMT+9, whereas Singapore's is GMT+8). After two generally unenjoyable flights on China Eastern Airlines, Fifi and I have finally safely landed in Korea, and we are now relaxing at Ah Mah's place, which is partially underground. There is an advantage to it - her home is relatively more sheltered from the cruelly sweltering heat of the sun in the day during summer as compared to apartments located on higher levels, and at night her room temperature is comfortably low to mercifully ensure a good night's sleep.

Later in the morning we are going to Korea University to settle Fifi's administrative matters, and just now Ah Mah brought us to this quaint little restaurant which serves really delicious traditional Korean cuisine - the grilled beef was addictively yummy. (In general, I still dislike Korean food though.) Ah Mah challenged us to call over the waiter in Korean, and I took on her challenge a tad too enthusiastically I suppose - hopefully I didn't attract too much unwanted attention, heh heh. Basically I just screamed somewhat loudly, "YO-GI-YO!" And the waiter immediately came over to attend to us.

It feels strangely surreal being in an unfamiliar land where everyone around you speaks a completely foreign tongue. Every road sign is written in an unknown language I don't understand and every person is communicating in words with which I am totally unacquainted - words which perhaps possess poetry that I fail to grasp, sentences whose syntax I am unable to fully appreciate, paragraphs whose contents are regrettably not delivered to me due to my own inadequacy. When the three of us took the airport bus from Incheon International Airport (which is located in the suburbs) to Ah Mah's home, all the passengers around us were conversing heartily in Korean; and as the bus sped unobstructed on the empty roads, I felt as if I was in a dream-like situation as I watched the trees go by and by.

Speaking of the loss in translation of the beauty of certain languages, Ah Mah and I chanced upon this very topic in our conversation just now, and we were pointing out that several words in Mandarin cannot be faithfully translated into English - there is bound to be some sacrifice of the subtlety, of the uncertainty, of the ambivalence of certain Mandarin expressions in the endeavour of explaining them in English. The ambiguity, which so enticingly straddles the definitions of numerous English words, entirely eludes succinct encapsulation, for there is no exact equivalent of it in English, and the best we can do is to sadly settle for less, while unwillingly harbouring this nagging feeling that something in ourselves remains stubbornly unspoken.

Anyway Fifi brought along a Korean phrasebook which contains some seriously comical phrases which range from the downright bizarre ("He is still alive" - I don't want to imagine the context in which this would even come into use) to the amusingly tragical ("I was raped"). There is nothing hilarious about being sexually assaulted, of course - but what is so funny is really the image of a foreign woman, being utterly battered and raped, walking into a police station with bruises and torn garments that can barely conceal her violated body, struggling to flip to the correct page in the phrasebook and then reading aloud to the policeman in Korean, "I was raped."

Ah Mah's house is located in the vicinity of Yonsei University (one of the top three colleges in Korea - the other two are Korea University and Seoul National University, and they are jointly known as the SKY), and just now while Fifi stayed home to prepare her administrative work, Ah Mah and I took a nice lovely walk around the neighbourhood, traipsing across part of the Yosei campus, soaking up the silence of the night. A few students could be seen sitting on benches, engaged in intimate chatter, while a few others jogged quietly in the still darkness that was illuminated only vaguely by the streetlamps. The night air is amazingly fresh - it is so beautifully crisp and cool that it is truly rejuvenating. In the midst of the soothing night, in the face of the approaching dawn, the city is still very much energetically alive - many shops and eateries still welcome customers at 3a.m., and their garish presence is announced with a particular reticence that perhaps only they could perfect. Occasionally I would come across a drunken man or two lying unconscious on the sidewalk, waiting for the ennobling arrival of sobriety; and sometimes I would see close friends gathered cheerfully in one corner, smoking and conversing affably, sharing the sunrise with cherished companions.

Contrary to popular belief, it is actually really safe to wander outside in the wee hours of the morning - Ah Mah and I spent more than one hour just gallivanting aimlessly around the region surrounding her home. She told me some tidbits of information about Korea - for example, in Korea, all the building projects are corporatised, and all the apartments here are privately owned. This inevitably leads to the social phenomenon that the rich is extremely rich while the poor remains depressingly poor - those born with silver spoons in their mouths don't have to work at all in their whole lives, for they can gain wealth just by renting out their inherited property. I expect there to be a significant number of homeless people due to this trend, but so far I have yet to encounter any in Seoul. Ah Mah also brought me to this region where the affluent families congregate - she pointed out that one of the former Presidents of Korea actually lived in one of the long stretches of bungalows.

Anyway, there is a small tunnel near her home which we passed by twice throughout our walk. There is some graffiti artwork painted inside the tunnel, and Ah Mah said that she'd like to draw something on its wall some day as well. Hopefully we'll get a chance to do it together before I return to Singapore.

On public breastfeeding

2009-06-23T16:38:00.002+08:00

Courtesy of Agagooga.

Some people think that women should be allowed to breastfeed in public and some even call public breastfeeding a "civil right". They call themselves 'lactivists' and while the silly name is a good tip-off, but it is still profitable to examine their claims.

They put down opposition to public breastfeeding to a view of the breast only as a sexual object, or one of bodily shame.

Yet, it is doubtful if these same activists would support people peeing in public. Assuming you are directing your flow into a proper receptacle and are thus not soiling public or private property, there really isn't any reason to oppose public urination - unless you view the genitals as being exclusively sexual (I am alright with pissoirs since they cover the genitals). Or is there? If people who really need to go can hold their pee and find a bathroom, is it unreasonable for mothers who want to breastfeed to find a similarly private location (indeed, one can breastfeed in any empty room, but it takes plumbing to make a Little Boys or Little Girls Room)?

A similar argument can be made for digging noses in public. In fact, here the issue of sexualisation is moot (talk of the nose having more fun than the finger when you dig it notwithstanding). Simply, where bodily fluids are involved, it is best to keep everything private.

Indeed, if you say that breasts are not sexual, you return to a problem I mentioned before: if breasts are not sexual, then there is no problem with pictures of topless women (any more than there are problems with pictures of topless men), or touching a breast (any more than there are problems with touching a man's chest). After all, there is nothing wrong with touching someone's hand or tapping someone's shoulder. If you are normal, this is not a problem (actually, if you are normal, you acknowledge that women's breasts are not like men's chests, but never mind).

However, the contradictions in lactivism become apparent here. Lactivists want to say that breastfeeding is alright and non-sexual. Yet, if this is so, why are they treated differently from men's chests? Although they are committed to public breastfeeding, lactivists still want to say that a woman's body is sacred and should not be violated. So the only way out is to declare the whole body sacrosanct, at which point we know we have hit upon an argumentum ad absurdum - since only the battiest lactivists would say that one's hands and shoulders should be sacred as well.

One of the only ways to rescue lactivism is if you create several categories: Can see, can expose, can touch (hands, shoulders); Can't see, can't expost, can't touch (genitals) and Can't see, can expose, can't touch (torso). If these categories sound tortured it's because they are gotten by working backwards from a conclusion: women can do anything they want, but if men act upon these implications they are evil.

Another way to rescue lactivism is to claim that breasts are sexual *except* when they are being used to breastfeed. This is a little peculiar, since a gun, for example, does not cease to become a martial symbol when used in hunting, parades or mounted above the fireplace. Perhaps this claim is inspired by the Catholic doctrine of Transubstantiation, but goes one up on it, for unlike the Body and Blood of Christ, Breasts can endlessly move between the Sexual and Non-Sexual states.

In fact, if you support public breastfeeding, I don't think there's very far to go to support public nudity (or at least public toplessness by women), unless you impute quasi-mystical significance to the act of breastfeeding your child (which probably explains why we have the Gabriel Break-Away Feeding Pad (a feeding harness - I saw one which actually replicates breasts and looks like a bra, but can't find where it is online right now).

But then, even if I impute quasi-mystical significance to the act of sex, it doesn't mean that I should be allowed to have sex in public (assume for the sake of argument that I am impoverished and cannot afford a hotel room, or that since Hotel 81 has been forbidden from offering hourly rates, I have nowhere to go). Ditto for any religious significance I might attach to an act of, say, public defecation (even if I clean up after myself).

An alternative argument could be made about breastfeeding being temporary, whereas public nudity is an extended performantive act, but it seems weak to me and in any case sounds like it is making excuses for breastfeeding (like how those sanitary pads which don't rustle are supposed to make menstruation even more shameful than it is), so the activists are not going to use that line of argument.

Perhaps the best solution is something I saw one mother doing - covering your breastfeeding baby under a shawl or something similar.

Naturally, after I posted a short thought on Twitter (unfortunately, micro-blogging lacks context) I got engaged by some lactivists.

Besides repeated ad hominem insults ("Grow up and get a clue!"; "Growup & educate urself"; "you're DENSE and creepy"; "I don't know what strange planet you came from, but go back there."; "idiot")*, their objections were that:

* - Significantly, the only civil Lactivist was a guy. Make of that what you will.

1) Breastfeeding is okay because it benefits other people
2) Breastfeeding is just feeding a baby. Other people can eat in public, so why can't babies?
3) "it's only a recent anthropologic phenom for women to be ashamed of exposing breasts in public - not a problem for men - why differ?"
4) Babies are not meant to feed from bottles. Breasts are for feeding babies.
5) Grow up.
6) Hands have a sexual function also but we don't wear gloves to sign our name in public.

My responses were that:

1) If benefiting someone else makes an act okay, what if I bed someone really well? Even if you exclude sexual acts, it wouldn't be very nice for me to dress my friend's festering boil in public.

2) Babies can be fed from bottles. If I chose to eat from a trough in public (au porc), people would be disgusted, but if I did it in private it would be alright.

3) Actually in almost all non-tribal societies,the female breast is covered in polite company. This is not a recent phenomenon at all. The only exception I can think of: [Pre-Meiji] Japan (but even then it was the peasants who did this).

4) People are not meant to wear clothes or take antibiotics either.

If you take the naturalistic argument, human breasts are far larger than needed for milk production. They have an evolved sexual function.

5) *Silent amusement*

6) Do you support public nudity? (the response to this was a dodge and a change of subject)

At this point, I sensed close to zero marginal utility, so I decided to stop.

Well, actually a "RadicaLactivist" then came and engaged me, but I will reproduce only a short part of that exchange here:

"women CAN and should be able to go topless if they choose. Men do. And there is NO reason for a man to bare his breasts IN PUBLIC.

One should never touch/photograph another person without permission. One's dress or activities are irrelevant to basic Human Rights"

I guess the word "Radical" tells you all you need to know and explains the sexism and the disconnect from reality (she claimed those who photograph other people without permission are creeps with cameras)

Later she backpedalled somewhat and claimed she was neutral and going topless was a personal choice but, well.

Suffice it to say that, as usual, when you see the word "Radical" it's a sign to run far, far away; I'll never understand why some groups adopt 'radical' as a badge of pride. I've not encountered a case where it doesn't cover nuttiness.