CAT Syndrome

No matter how nicely you format your report or presentation or portfolio, someone’s bound to ask,

Is that Calibri?

or perhaps,

Did you use Arial?

and otherwise,

You used Times New Roman right? What font size?

Most of our understanding of what constitutes a beautiful or user-friendly font theme or style comes from Microsoft Word’s default formatting or our friends, the majority of whom invariably uses Microsoft’s default formatting.

It’s time that we changed some of that. The ugliness of and the ignorance surrounding the use of this “mainstream” variety fonts is unacceptable. We can overcome this through a proper cultivation of taste, beginning with a brief introduction of what makes a font practical and polished simultaneously.

The following are 3 categories of fonts which are readily used by a generic audience, and comprises at least 5 of my favourite fonts. Each of them have wonderful flavour, and each glyph (character) carries with it character and accomplishment. A word of caution: use them appropriately, use them well. Don’t ever abuse a font.

(For easy reference and high-quality zoom, use the pdf instead.)

*Simple Sophistication fonts are fully interchangeable.

Transformers, High School Musical 2 and Mamma Mia

I signed up for Y-camp because I wanted to try something new. I didn’t know it clashed with my revision schedule for the CT1s. I was later told that a straight 4As/5As is an ideal to work towards in JC  life. Then I went for Y-camp.

I was attached to Bo (not real name), my buddy for the 3D2N camp with them. We call them “benes”, short for beneficiaries in the camp. The camp really was for intellectually disabled persons, from different welfare organisations, to challenge themselves (”Y Camp Challenge”) in creative arts, high elements, camp craft, and a little song & dance.

Bo didn’t dig any of that. He is 24 years old and has Down Syndrome. He is plump and is shorter than me by about 2 heads. He has a life, and a face, scarred, because another chromosome decided to slot its way to his genetic makeup. Since the 1-day orientation before the camp, I got to know him as a person whose life revolved around movies, songs, dances. That filled his life since he got to know the movies that would dominate a person of around 12.

Bo didn’t do much of the other activites. Where others were playing obstacle course games, he spent his time under the shade, singing. We sang songs anywhere from the range of Doh-Re-Me to “My Heart Will Go On”, from “You Are the Music in Me” to “Fabulous” from High School Music 2. It was pretty much the same for the rest of the camp too. Where others were doing high elements, he was under the pavilion writing letters, two apologising to our camp group leader (Val) and how he promised to “play the next time”. He wrote one for me, telling me how “we good brother” and “we sing high school musical and mamma mia together”, in kid-type. I still keep that piece of blue paper. Where others (even physically handicapped benes) went for dragon boating, we sat on the bench facing the sea, and started singing national day songs. He didn’t do the next activity (camp craft) either – he sat on the pavement drawing Transformers figures and Pokemon balls. So we integrated that drawing into the camp craft structure.

At the end of the camp, there was nothing short of a full-blown emofeste. Some volunteers cried – a few out of pity, others out of genuine friendship. I didn’t shed any tears, not because I didn’t already miss my bene, but I have never believed in emofestes as a good way to end any thing.

It seems easy to form a friendship with Bo. Start singing a song he likes, and he’ll sing along. Start playing dance music, and you’ll see him race in front of the stage and dance with a passion you might not have seen in a long time. (I was there with him.) Get him to talk to his “clique” (fellow benes from Y-stars, a YMCA dance group for down syndrome people) consisting Bjorn and Terry (not real names), and he’ll be very much involved. He admires Bjorn, in particular, although the latter is almost unresponsive to the brotherly love that Bo showers upon him.

I should state that we should reflect the ways to serve the disadvantaged. I did, but that wasn’t what struck me most. What puzzled me at the beginning of the camp is what they attach to a relationship. Their desires of their relationships and life are so transparent and unmistakably innocent it strikes anyone as almost simplistic. It could well be, but my relationship with Bo was genuine.  I don’t think I’ll forget him for a long time, and on the last day he seemed to show that the sentiment was mutual. Another bene’s mother would help bring him home. Hugging me for the fifth time, he stared deep into my eyes.

“I’ll see you next Saturday at Y-stars outing. Okay?”

As he stepped into the cab, he asked that again. I nodded, knowing full well I might not see him again.

on new speakers and burnt MPs

I’ve got new speakers! For those who don’t know. They’re made by some Divoom company, and the audio is quite simply… divine. I don’t listen to rock, so the bass isn’t used to its max, but it can produce very low bass sounds (R&B) and very high sounds. Of course I tested it. I’ve used it to listen to all the Divas, and they work brilliantly.

Celine Dion’s “Think Twice” leaves each of the X3’s speaker in magnificence, laden with vocal and emotional texture that only she possesses. Whitney Houston’s “Lover for Life” pulsates through the air; her voice makes us nod our heads even more fervently than ever before: this is a Stradivarius trapped in human flesh. Leona Lewis’ “Bleeding Love” reveals a hidden heart-throbbing intensity you would never have discovered if you hadn’t chanced upon the X3. Roberta Flack’s “Tonight I Celebrate My Love” is crystal clear; her voice sounds like an angel’s. (You actually only realise there is a beat behind the song which makes it glide so smoothly.) And Barbra Streisand – or shall we say, the speaker’s reproduction of her “Evergreen” – makes me wish she could have more concerts and make the tickets slightly more affordable. Meanwhile, Mariah Carey 1.0’s “Love Takes Time” is filled with painful desperation locked in a voice that soars quite beyond any male’s comprehension. The X3’s rendition of Mariah Carey 2.0’s cheeky “Touch My Body” is done to  T – each beat, each finger-click snazzes up that sexy tune.

Message of the Day: Your ears are precious; feed them good vibrations!

The Old, and…

The New!

(For pictures, take a look at the website. The subwoofer and satellite speakers are not small, but I am very willing to invest in the paradise that follows. That’s especially because I have people actually worth listening to on my playlist. If you know me well enough, you know who I’m talking about. )

On the other hand, Mr Straits Times should realise that there is hardly any need to show the burnt MP’s progress. I know it’s quite sad and all – the PAP’s MP of some GRC got burnt at work – heroic stuff. But I think it should realise that it’s not exactly newsworthy stuff to fill the pages on. Get over it. Not many Singaporeans are that concerned that some MP got burnt a few weeks, months, years down the road to merit that sort of attention which Mr Straits Times tells us we should have. If they really have nothing to do with that front-page space, I don’t mind taking it.

So here’s my proposition to the Straits Times: syndicate this blog! I think the citizens of Singapore can find more to identify here than in MP Seng’s 14% burns. We deserve to learn more about our society from the perspective of a teenager dealing with “life” than how he cannot shake hands because he put on special gloves. Don’t we?

CAP, facebook and my idiotic notion of holidays

CAP’09 leaves me with a sense of bewilderment and astonishment. I have thought for five minutes how to put this, but even writing casually about it seems difficult. We had the “academic” stuff on one hand, which wasn’t excessively mind-nourishing. My greatest takeaway was Cyril Wong’s (the local poet) comment of my hastily scribbled poem:

“A bad Sylvia Plath.”
- Cyril Wong

So much for my lit capabilities. We had Agnes Meadows as well (a brilliant performance poet, but I accidentally blurted out “Meadowfields” instead – and have been mocked quite extensively ever since). The plenaries were sleepfestes, while the writing workshops were not bad. I was exposed to poetry writing – not my can of rootbeer, but still. For the performance workshop, I was allocated Contemporary Dance. Now I want you to imagine me. Then imagine me dancing. I know it looks bad. So stop imagining and get back to this post.

CAP was much more of a social event. We meet fellow students from different backgrounds and schools not as students, but as people waiting to socialise and be socialised with. I was privileged to be part of the “4AM gangzz” clique. (Somehow groups of friends make things more endurable.)

The 4AM gangz

this one with leon

Initially it was Rachelle (self-declared tyrant-tranny from VJ), Samuel (”good” samuel from TJ) and I. We caught on almost immediately, and stuck together throughout. It’s amazing how you can enter this camp and after 5 days feel as if you’ve known the person for such a long time. We were joined by Leon/TQ/Michelle (RJ), Liying (PJ), Yishu (AC) and Isaac (NUSH) soon after. On the last night 0f CAP, we stayed up at the campus’ “Reading Room” and went from playing iPhones to naughty gossip to music appreciation to plain talk. Some person lay sprawled across the length of the large tables, and some person – worse – spat blueberry waffles onto the iPhones! Various declarations were made – from Rachelle’s “I have eight boobs” and “all my underwear is on my bed” to Liying’s so-naughty-it-should-be-forbidden gossip – that it kept the conversation going. It was havoc.

I left at around 3:30 – apparently they stayed till 4:00 until some councillors caught the rest of them. I heard the next day that the councillors even thought that they were making love. The very idea still makes me laugh.

It all leads me back to my thesis: it’s darn refreshing to know people from other backgrounds.

The subsequent uploading frenzy of facebook photos was one of the most ferocious I’ve seen – scrolling, tagging, commenting – one entire night frizzled into virtual bits of colours joined together to represent friendships made. Camwhoring was another major feature in the last hour. Led by the indefatigable Rachelle, the 4AM gangz took over a hundred shots. (Facebook, we were sure, was going to crash that night, given the amount of photos taken. FB has created new purpose for digital cameras.)

And lastly, my recent invention is quite simply the most nifty thing in the World of Mugging: the Slack Quotient. It measures your work done over a period of time. Unlike IQ, it can vary at different intervals. For simplicity of use, Aaron Tang and Nigel have a moving SQ average of 1-24; while Wenjie has an average (self-declared) SQ of 180. This Wiki article uses almost humorous terms to describe IQ. On the same scale:

SQ Ranges	Slackness Classification
1-24	Profound Retardation in slacking ability
25–39	Severe Retardation in slacking ability
40–54	Moderate Retardation in slacking ability
55–69	Mild Retardation in slacking ability
70–84	Borderline Retardation in slacking ability
85-114	Average Intelligence in slacking
115-129	Bright in slacking
130-144	Moderately Gifted in slacking
145-159	Highly Gifted in slacking
160-175	Exceptionally Gifted in slacking
Over 175	Profoundly Gifted in slacking

the last day of school

The last day of school always holds some special significance. In A13A, it meant that a quarter of our JC life had finished. That held some form of significance. I hope A13A gets to bond more. It’s going to be a pity if a bunch of nice, genuine, and thinking people are trapped by divisions.

In any case, here’s a peak into an extraordinary day into my life (otherwise I wouldn’t have posted it here, would I?). I waited for about 2 hours for debates. I didn’t get to debate, i.e. I’m not selected into the ACJC I/C debates team. I am beginning to be quite immune to such disappointments, especially in debates. It’s hardly new – because you are lacking, therefore you should not enter the team. Because you do not enter the team, you are lacking. Because you are lacking, therefore you should not enter the team. Because… ad infinitum

But the purpose of this post is not for such banal things like competitions and selections – people who aren’t selected for anything, get over it! If people think you don’t matter, don’t make yourself matter to them. Be someone else altogether to someone else. You don’t need to be good for causes or people which demean you as a person. Don’t degrade yourself. So what if you aren’t good in that field? Don’t encourage yourself with the “you weren’t selected because the team requires synergy.” It’s only hasty, oops-i-can-think-of-anything-else-to-say-therefore-i’ll-say-this-feel-good-crap dialogue your ears should hardly bother about. Coaches use that often. It means i’m-sorry-but-you-suck. (Haha don’t you even think of labelling me a cynic, because you are thinking just that too. Own up to it – you aren’t good, so do something else. Be someone to who really matters.)

After being mildly worn out during debates of not doing anything, I deliberated, then went to AstroNight. The stars weren’t important; the people there were. I met wenjie, who went out with me for dinner. (teehehee, wenjie. better hope someone doesn’t read this!) I realised they – aaron, renyong and him – were going to aaron’s house for a competition the day after. So I decided to tag along for a stayover, with everyone else – after all, it was the last day of school.

It was 11:30 when they ended the Night officially, and packed up. So the four of us went to his house. The attic was large, and comprised two rooms. (For those who haven’t been there, it’s quite a treat. There’s childhood toys, music CDs, X Boxes, and even a drum set.) They were having a little trouble captioning their photos, so I started playing videos on Youtube. Music, Live performances, Vlogs. It was entertaining, though I admit I was initially quite a distraction.

Later aaron collapsed in fatigue, so wenjie and I stayed up with the Mac. We started to listen and sing pop songs – mainly the divas – and began about two hours worth of singing. Obviously only the divas featured in our playlist – Celine, Leona, Mariah (a pity no Whitney this time) – I’m positive that only they can sing, and sing well. Wenjie has perfect pitch, but he occasionally “over-estimates” the vocal latitude of the singer. So he is consistently about a semitone away from the note. (This is a problem which consistently plagues a good deal of guys when singing songs sung by ladies. The pitch goes high, the notes waver, the voice lacks punch. Transposing the song an octave or another lower is less of a sin than losing the power and tone, I realised. )

So anyway renyong joins us and it’s about half an hour before we sleep. I couldn’t go down and retrive my bottle, so I was left thirsty in the attic. It was really because of Snowball, aaron’s dog, who barked incessantly at the sound of our voices and footsteps down the stairs. It’s not wise to wake your host’s family up, but it is especially foolish to do so at 2:30 in the morning.

So we wake up at 8 the next day. They do their rehearsals and mock-ups. (They used a very considerable amount of effort and time – that much was evident.) I do my youtube. A little more singing resumes. But the mood is serious. We have brunch at 10. They leave for their competition, and I leave for home.

The Fuplers

Thalad Dressing

True Romanth

Thcrabble

The Train Has Arrived

Credits to Debby, who contributed to this piece.

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The train has arrived. Safety messages reverberate across the platform.

The station doors slide open, and they devour the crowd. I wait as they herd into the confines with their assorted range of dark luggage and colourful backpacks. I enter; I tug my bags along. The cold train air clings to my nostrils and skin; it fills my lungs. It feels good in the train.

The train jolts. People cling tightly to the bars for an instant, then release it altogether.

There aren’t any seats around. The crowd surrounds me, but they’re hardly jittery – they grip the handles of their bags loosely. Funny how overseas trips carve neurotic masters into relaxed employers. Babies cry loosely, parents hush them carelessly. People are dogs, spent and drained. A couple kisses in the corner. They’re safe after the flight.

I didn’t have a flight – I didn’t board mine. I left early for the airport that morning at four; now it’s six in the evening and I’ve decided I won’t get on that flight. I made a choice of my own, for the first time in ten years.

That stupid employer. The family which calls me an idiot and pulls my hair and burns me with their Tefal irons. Stupid employers. The family which called me brainless and poured hot water down my hands when I told them the dog was too dirty and droped the mop on my toes and pinched my breasts. The family which made me climb the backyard mangosteen tree and pluck three wasp nests and wrest my hands off the letter from my dad telling me that my mum was gone and slapped me.

The agency found me guilty for not obeying my masters, their clients. They chucked me a ticket and threw me on a truck which went straight to the airport the next morning. “Go home and take care of your mum,” she sneered. The fat woman behind the counter looked at me through those round glasses. She wore a pearly necklace; her fat burst out at the maroon business jacket. “We’ve only got complaints about you.” Biodata File 1427 was passed through a shredder before me. I watched as the matte passport photo went through the machine. My face tore into seven. I bled.

The next morning they put me on a truck and I sat behind in the open, facing the rear. My hair flew past my face as we went on the expressway. Bougainvilleas lined the expressway – red, orange, yellow, purple. Colourful bastards. They blurred into vision.

I clutch my possessions and grip the pole. I check my shorts. Wallet? Still here. My phone was confiscated, so I won’t bother checking.

Now all I have to do is wait.

“Eunos.”

I’m tired.

There’s been a piling of work recently, but I already have planned out what I’m going to blog about soon. It’s all stimulating stuff.

Stimulating stuff.

much ado about nothing

The government’s being protective, and that’s a good thing.

Better to “err on the side of convention”. Or as Singaporean hokkien vernacular would have it, “Kiasu better than kiasi“. MOE’ recently introduced sweeping directives for schools nationwide, ever since Singapore raised its pandemic alert level to orange. I am a firm believer in mitigation measures like these. They ensure we remain prepared and resilient against pandemic threats – and I do hope my reasoning appeals to the Cynic, who might just want to change his/her mind. That would be the greatest compliment.

First off, we aren’t allowed to organise or participate in events which involve a substantial congregation of people, especially students. These include concerts which have not sold any tickets yet, holiday/bonding/farewell camps, and competitions. I was affected by a number of these – for one, RECAS June camp (our very first camp as a club) has quite effectively been cancelled, and now we cannot send school teams to SMU Hammers, an open debating competition that we did look forward to. We can’t have morning assembly either – not that we want to in the first place.

I firmly believe we should, and can, do more. For one, I say we ban lectures of any subject – be they science, humans, or math (especially). It is definitely wrong – and almost immoral as well, come to think of it – that we should allow potential incubi of viral plague to converge into an air-conditioned, enclosed lecture theatre. I don’t think it is right, as social responsible citizens, for us to hold congregations which carry high risks of spreading the virus that may reach our shores.

It is quite shocking that some concerts should even be allowed to continue. RProject, in my opinion, should also be cancelled. The organisers should withdraw immediately, and pupils should ask for refunds. It is inconceivable that the school allows these events to continue, and really quite hilarious to boot – our lives are under potentially grave threat, and here we are, sitting on chairs facing the runway, admiring some kind of fashion! The guy beside you might have caught a cold, or worse – the models, who will walk through the entire section of audiences, could have a whopping cough and a cold. Ultimately we should seek a balance – on one hand, we see the weeks of dedication, time, energy, sweat, tears that some of our promising friends put in; on the other, we stay safe at home, taking our temperatures twice daily as well. Any sane person – you and I – know for ourselves that we should protect ourselves from unnecessary harm.

I also support the MOE’s directive that no one should enter the side gates after 8 a.m. In my opinion, we should do away with the arbitrary time limit. All students should enter through the school’s main gate, regardless of what time they wake up or where they live. In these moments of darkness, that little inconvenience of walking a little to the main gates should be of less consequence than ensuring that all students are kept safe from this potential national threat. It is high time we band together in solidarity for our common good.

It is admirable that parents are not allowed to exit their cars when they drop their children off at school. Our parents could well be the next carriers of this potential pandemic; allowing them to get out of their cars might leave respiratory droplets which may affect other students in the entire school compound. The older generation should set us a good example as well; they should avoid getting out of their cars upon reaching their offices. It is only right that they practise what they preach – they should create office workspace in their cars, to minimise risks. Workplaces are notorious for the amount of bacteria that circulates in the stale air-con air; consequently, closing down offices should be one of our first steps to reduce the spread of this potential flu.

Factories should also stop production, at least for the next month if the flu has died down, or at least a few months until the pandemic drops in risk level. Just as our school in Bishan ensures that students reduce congregations as much as possible, so should the factories over at Jurong. It should be a nationwide effort involving all citizens against this potential pandemic.

On a national level, I also believe that the WHO should stop holding expert meetings involving scientists and researchers from all over the world. So far, they have held 3 of such meetings, and as far as the we are concerned, they are playing with fire.  And as we speak, top health officials from ASEAN+3 will be meeting to come up with a solution to battle this potential pandemic which may potentially ravage Asia. What’s worse – I see no reason why our Singapore Parliament should continue to convene. Our countries MPs and cabinet ministers are responsible for the proper functioning and well-being our small, vulnerable nation-state. Allowing our political leaders to meet in these enclosed settings is almost bordering on irresponsibility – and flu virus does not discriminate between gender, sex, political position, wealth, race, language, or religion. These people are our national assets, allowing the top brains of their country to be exposed to this pandemic is quite outrageous.

This should be true for other nations as well, especially those with confirmed cases. Ministers and bureaucrats should avoid contact with each other as much as possible. Congress, for instance, should hold their sessions and voting online, if any bill is to be passed. Obama should realise that these senators are the ones people voted into power; allowing them to meet might pose a threat to their health and ability to serve the country fully. Fundamental tenets of democracy may be breached if we continue adopting such nonchalant attitudes to a potential worldwide pandemic.

We stand to risk much if we fail to follow mitigation measures – not just as a school, but as nation and as a world as well. Obeying directives should be our first step towards responsible citizenry.

Who’s with me?

On the AWARE case

This Facebook note appeared just yesterday, and the message resonated perfectly with whatever I thought and still think about this entire AWARE debacle. Here it is, word for word:

===================================

Christians in Singapore, listen! You should not be this conflicted about the AWARE debacle. It appears that a few churches have already taken the opportunity to preach on the issue of homosexuality from the pulpit. Some Christians have also been rattling on about it being time to make a stand and be counted for what one truly believes.

So this is me making a stand right here. I have been a Bible-believing Christian for 25 years now. I want first to acknowledge fellow believers who, like me, are shocked, angered, and saddened by the takeover and feel that their faith has been hijacked and their views ignored. I know that a lot of such affected Christians are out there. There is also another group which may not agree with the new team’s tactics but admires its fervour or sympathises with it for the heat it has been getting.

But, most of all, I want to address a crucial third party: Christian women who have been encouraged to stand up and be counted for their beliefs. I wish to appeal to their good sense in these last hours. You may be one of these and have even joined, or are planning to join, AWARE to help swing the votes in favour of the new ex-co on Saturday. Especially if I am describing you, please read on!

Yes, there are times when a Christian needs to make a courageous stand – but, in every event, always ask yourself: For what cause is this? What context does it serve? The current scenario is not one where we are being asked what our beliefs on certain issues are or whether Christianity and homosexuality are compatible or we are being mocked or discriminated against. It is a simple context where a group of well-meaning Christians infiltrated a secular organisation in order to be in a position to dictate their own values in its daily running. In this light, what a Christian may feel about issues like homosexuality is besides the point!

As a secular body, AWARE rightly cannot have a vision that treats women from different backgrounds through the outlook of just one religious system. Indeed, I dare say that an appropriate Christian response is to resist the actions of these Christians. Just as God gave every person free choice and the opportunity to believe, we ought to support the sanctity of this right for others to make up their own minds and live their own lives. Just as we do not force the Christian faith down someone’s throat against his or her will, we should not take over a non-religious organisation for the single purpose of making others unlike us behave as we believe. To do this would be a gross misapplication of the message of Jesus.

If you support the new ex-co’s actions, be aware that you are sending a string of possibly irreversible wrong signals to every Singaporean. Consider carefully whether you are willing to shoulder the responsibility of damages that would affect the longstanding good work of Christians in Singapore. Since the government has chosen not to be involved in the matter so far, whatever happens will be seen clearly by all as the response of particular sectors of society.

Here is my short list of obvious implications:

[1] Support the new ex-co, and you are effectively saying that you condone its quasi-corporate act of infiltration, with related strategies of secrecy, disinformation, moral coercion, and fear-mongering. You are saying that you support its less-than-Christian covert moves more than traditionally Christian ones like dialogue, open engagement, honesty, and clarity.

[2] Support the new ex-co, and we will go down a slippery road with wide-ranging repercussions for all. Don’t believe for a moment that the manoeuvring will stop here. What this invites others to see is that infiltration is the most effective way for small groups of like-minded individuals to seize power quickly — and where will this end? What is to stop any religious or ideological group from doing the same to any social institution at every level? In the long run, who do you think loses?

[3] Support the new ex-co, and you potentially make light of the freedom that is God’s gift to every human being. Against your best intentions, you may send out instead the message that we Christians think that we know better than everyone else and that we are willing to outflank, overpower, and overwhelm if we do not get our way.

[4] Support the new ex-co, and, if they stay and behave as predicted, you will be directly responsible for undoing the trust that many Christians have taken years to build with their non-Christian friends. This is a trust built on mutual respect. You will have made the Gospel of Christ more difficult to hear for years to come because people will think that they know what it is about. You will have created a new generation of Christ-haters.

This matter, in short, is not to be treated lightly. Jesus tells us all to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves”. There are times to be passionate and helpful in a gungho way, but this is not the time. Christians can be wrong about many things too. So please, by all means, pray for the AWARE debacle to be resolved amicably and for Christians in AWARE, but do not, in the name of our common faith, go in blind support of other Christians because you are Christian!

Yours Truly,

Gwee Li Sui