Monday, August 9, 2010


I'll make it short and sweet.

National Day Parade disgusts me. Huge parts of our colonial history are conveniently left out, forgotten and played down.

You simply don't do that right in front of the City Hall. A monument from our colonial era, a reminder of how much the British and the Europeans had shaped our legislature and architecture.

Our history books and heritage had been tampered with, ostensibly to drum up support for the ruling party, and to ensure that our citizens remain shrouded by the illusion of asian values.

I studied in a school founded by a British man.

I cycle regularly to one of the first reservoirs of Singapore, which was designed a century ago by Robert Peirce. I use Thomson Road and Marymount Road on a daily basis. Thomson Road, according to Wikipedia, was responsible for the design and construction of a number of notable engineering works including bridges, roads, and hospitals. Why do our history lessons leave out such a big part of Singapore's history?

We speak British English and we do the Cambridge O and A Levels. We drive on the left side of the road.

But we don't speak of our colonial heritage. Not even in our history books. Not in what the Ministry of Education calls 'Social Studies'.


Thursday, July 15, 2010

Bitten by the Sea

Don’t ask me why I am here because I honestly don’t know. I have never planned to be here.

If I really did, I won’t be wearing these sand-trapping sandals right into the beach. It’s absurd. Nothing is making sense. I’m standing on the beach, alone, with nothing more than a pair of shorts on my body and a pair of sandals on my feet.

In this cold, I’d love to believe that somewhere along this beach lies my property – warm clothes, a wallet, some money to get back home. I’d love to believe that I know where exactly I am, and I’d love to believe that I’m not alone here.

I’d also love to believe to know whether what I’m staring at right now is a fucking sunrise or a sunset.

You can’t just bring me here and leave me alone, can you? That’s irresponsible, you know? You were never there for me, you bitch. The least you could do is to let me have my clothes.

I let the rising tide lap at my toes, partly to wash off the gritty sand between my toes, and partly to just feel something. Hot or cold, I don’t care. The water’s bitingly cold today. Does that mean that it’s dawn, or is it that I’m in a place where the water’s always cold? I don’t know. You wouldn’t say.

Something about the biting cold draws me in. I make small steps into the water, allowing the icy numbness to slosh around my sandals, below my feet. My big feet. Everything looks big when there’s little else but vast areas of sand and sea around it.

It feels strangely comforting. Did you want that? Was it what you had in mind? Did you want me to walk into the water and just disappear?

There’s no reason for me to stop walking, but there’s no reason for me to walk on either.

I let the cold water lap at my ankles.

I let the cold water tickle the back of my knees.

I let the cold water flood my navel.

I let the cold water tickle my chest, bringing on spasms of chills.

Should I walk on or stop? I look to you for a sign, a gesture, anything at all. But you ignore me.

Maybe I’d stop, maybe not. Perhaps I’d walk all the way into the sea and never stop? Perhaps I’d eventually find myself walking away from, and not into the sea?

I don’t know. It’s not as if you’d decide for me anyway.

Thursday, July 1, 2010


is a day that I feel strangely happy. Bee Gees sounds so good on the hifi. And it's freaking Bee Gees - that's my dad's kind of music.

I don't know if it's because I just had a long and hectic day at work and its finally over, or whether it's because I've not been sleeping well. But I feel hyper.

I haven't been myself today and my colleagues have been telling me that?

I shouldn't be blogging on because I don't exactly make any sense. Maybve I'm hypomanic. In such states I should be extra creative and have no trouble making words rhyme. Because I feel sublime. I'm high but yet I toe the line. It's not as though I'm committing a crime.

OK this is getting scary but I have a sudden urge to tidy my room up.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Do you believe that you can make a decent UHF antenna out of aluminium foil and duct tape?

Now you do. Courtesy of Macgyver (my dad) and Macgyver Jr (me).

Alu foil, duct tape, a length of coaxial and an old piece of perspex with brass bolts on it. Oh, and a crumpled piece of PC Show 2010 brochure that I had used as a spacer to prevent the 2 prongs from touching

Malaysia's NTV 9 is very clear.

Malaysia's TV3

IT's receiving digital channels perfectly.

There's some ghosting on okto and Channel u. Strange how Malaysian channels are so much clearer than Singaporean ones here.

Sadly, I can't receive Batam's RCTI at all, and SCTV is so blurry that it's pretty much unviewable. No football for me then.

For more information, google for folded dipoles. There should be online calculators to let you determine the appropriate dimensions. I used okto's frequency of 543.25Mhz for the calculations.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

School of Rock

teaches us that good movies, as with any art form, doesn't have to obey the laws of logic.

Music is integral to life.

When I was young, the radios at home were switched on pretty much throughout the day.

Now that I'm older, the hifi at home is switched on pretty much throughout the day.

Silence isn't easy; Starsailor lied.

I think you ought to know

I'm feeling very depressed