(“New Slang,” The Shins)

The Red Sox have won the World Series, and I’m sure if you cared you could find all kinds of exhilarating commentary on Google News. What a win!

I got my news from ESPN.com’s front page, which started its blurb with “Yes, it happened in your lifetime,” wholly appropriate because it’s been their first win since 1918.

However, it did remind me of the friend who introduced me to baseball — I went over to his place often in the summer of 2002 because he lived virtually next door and had a really nice apartment, whereas my draw group and I lived in a complete sty with almost no furniture. Also, I went over to play truly ridiculous amounts of poker (sometimes till 4am, so I only got to work in time for lunch the next day), during which his TV was always showing baseball. A couple of months later, the group of them dragged me to my first baseball game (A’s vs. the White Sox?), then everything upped and moved so quickly and I graduated and now the Red Sox have finally won the world series, but it was never in my friend’s lifetime because he left us a little under a year ago.

Take care, Choate, wherever you’ve moved on to.

Came across this article:

Netscape Communications offers new network navigator free on the Internet [cnet.com]

… and was somewhat confused by what a “network navigator” was and how they referred to Netscape as a “six-month-old company founded by Jim Clark,” until I noticed the date. Classic stuff: Navigator “is optimized to run smoothly over 14.4 kilobit/second modems as well as higher bandwidth lines, delivering performance at least ten times that of other network browsers.”

Wow, ten years since Netscape Navigator? I very vaguely remember using NCSA Mosaic (for me, most things nowadays have been relegated to the “vaguely remember” corner — I think I’ve saturated my brain with useless but amusing quotes), and then fervently tracking the frequent updates between Netscape and the upstart Microsoft IE until the former imploded and the latter became evil(ler).

I’d heard Jim Clark (founder of Netscape) speak once at the SGI 20th anniversary while I was interning there. I don’t recall much of what he said, except:

Question: “You’ve founded many companies in the last 20 years (SGI, Netscape, WebMD etc.). What is it that drives you to constantly create and explore new technology?”

Answer: “The money.” (end of response)

Ah, honesty.

Relatively calm week at work. Even the dreaded could-last-till-9.30pm manpower meeting on Thursday wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and no, only lasted till about 6.30pm. Won a $20 phone at the 6 Division Anniversary, which I kept falling asleep during while trying to emcee. Noteworthy only because this is the first recallable time I’ve won anything in any kind of lucky draw.

What else?

I managed to crawl out of bed at 7am this morning (a Sunday!) to call Toru in North Carolina, who was in attendance at Christine’s wedding. Managed to burble some vague congratulations to the bride (while realising we can’t call her “Skinner” any more, but “Sloan” just doesn’t have that same ring to it) before the call dropped.

Good thing I got up so early too, a second call to catch up with Toru and Sasank seemed to indicate they were already somewhat inebriated. Any later and they’d have been raging drunk… I expect no less from the draw group, really. Sasank did mention that my accent has slipped, which should surprise nobody at all. Anyway, I was sleepy. And then the call dropped.

Good enough, I guess.

While searching for tennis rackets in the store room today, I came across my portfolio from my (regrettably) only Art class at Stanford — discounting the animation one, which was mostly MATLAB programming and/or Maya. Naturally, I dug it out (and naturally, everything fell on me).

I was especially looking for this “self-portrait” that we had to do as a final project for the class — the only requirement being that it had to be life-sized (yes, life-sized for me == problem) and everything else was left open to choice (media, form, etc). I ended up doing a stream-of-consciousness comic strip which, upon consideration three years later, really did reflect me quite well (and probably still does).

Bits of it are embarrassingly silly and self-indulgent, but I can probably live with posting it on this blog (or the drawings site). That is, once I figure out how to scan it. Life-sized, remember.

Anyway, I used the good old wocka character from secondary school. Here it* is, on top of the robot thing. Painted this sophomore or junior year, I think.

(Click for a higher-res version)

* I’ve decided it’s asexual.

Thinking about it, it’s been awfully long since I’ve really drawn anything, or even done any designs I’ve really liked. I got a sketch book last year as a birthday present, and I’ve only used two pages of it; I couldn’t for the life of me come up with a single inspired design for the second battalion t-shirt; even my redesigned Stanford Alumni site wasn’t up to standard for my clients (though my pride and its occasional ally common sense dictate that mine is definitely better-looking than the old design).

Am I missing anything by forgoing this satisfaction from self-expression and instead seeking simpler-to-derive entertainment such as video games, downloaded TV and movies?

Maybe I should be thankful I have the chance to even raise that question.

So at NDP, I usually sit above the grandstand at the 55ft area with the dinky little vidcam (wetting its pants in fear at being beaten up by the huge-ass Mediacorp vidcam twenty times its size), peacefully recording/reading/being bored. Sometimes I watch the performance rehearsals I’ve seen maybe ten times before, occasionally I deafen myself with the full volume on my iPod so as to avoid listening to the choreographers yell “Everyone needs to be put in their part, ok? That boy over there! Run faster!” and generally give themselves very high blood pressure.

One time, though, during the Boon Lay sequence Wings to Soar (yes, again with the complainies about that piece), the choreographer’s about to pop a significant number of blood vessels trying to get the kids not to “swing their arms” while walking, and of course some kid decides to be all cool and contemptuous (bravo, little dude) and swings his arms like an epileptic runner.

To which the choreographer yells into the microphone “THAT BOY OVER THERE! DON’T TRY TO BE FUNNY!”

At that point, I began to realise exactly how much that statement pisses me off. I also had to fight the urge to throw something really heavy — say, the aforementioned twenty-ton Mediacorp camera — at the choreographer standing below. “Don’t try to be funny?” Kids all over Singapore have been told exactly that for years and years — NSFs too, but nevermind that for now — and what does it accomplish? Exactly what it was meant to: mindless subservience at the cost of creativity and individuality.

I’m certain I’m not the only person who’s noticed how humourless Singaporeans tend to be. Maybe I’m generalising, no matter. But I think that years and years of “don’t try to be funny” (not just the sentence, the inherent attitude behind it manifested in other forms) have made an incredibly boring people, whose most celebrated technology firm calls itself “Creative” and then proceeds to sell the most blatant iPod ripoff one can produce without being sued.

Is this what our country really is? Who are these adults that try to quash any creative expression that doesn’t suit their needs, and at the same time demands creativity and innovation and entrepreneurship from its young? And the part that scares me the most: as a teacher/civil servant in general, am I doomed to eventually become one of these humourless adult singaporeans?

Maybe I just really, really don’t like that segment of the show, eh.

Holy crap, half a fuckin year!

Not necessarily the most pleasant of times, but times nonetheless. I wonder if the two people who knew this blog existed will even notice this update.

What happened the last half year?

– Turned 23. At a simulated shooting range, no less. Ah, crap.
– Multiple new years in Singapore for the first time in ages — it’s nice to be home, I finally conclude, until the next time I crave some late-night phö (is that the right random ascii character?), or american cable tv, or the freedom of dorm life, or Jammix, or my friends i haven’t seen in ages. But it’s nice to be home.
– Shifted camp. The new-camp-smell of Mandai is fading and getting replaced with I-want-my-Old-Airport-Road-hawker cravings.
– Saw the Stanford Men’s Basketball team go through a near-miraculous season (26 straight wins!) only to have it all come crashing down in 8 minutes. Breaks the heart, such a great team too. How do you root for anyone again if this is what happens in the end? Give all us Stanford fans another half year, and another set of foolish hopes, hopefully.
– Failed SOC manymanymanymanymany times, until nearly passing within 8 seconds on my second-to-last try. Just not fit to be a soldier, I suppose.
– Not left the house much. But it’s nice to be home.

Not many photos, but these are (were, many won’t be around in a couple of months) my colleagues in 1 SIR’s S1 Branch:

Listening to:

– 100 years – Five for Fighting
– Are you gonna be my girl – Jet (yay iPod ads)
– You always say goodnight, goodbye – Julianna Theory
– Shout and feel it, Sing Sing Sing (with a swing) – Swing Kids soundtrack

Reading:

– Summerland, Michael Chabon
– The curious incident of the dog in the night time, Mark Haddock

this seems to be a popular blog entry type of thing

– Caged, Concave Scream
– Hey Ya, Outkast
– Fade Out/In, Paloalto
– Bad Day, REM

nothing awfully interesting to offer. maybe in a year or two.

i’ve been reading other people’s blogs (that giant stanford asian ring of bloggers which appalls and intrigues at the same time), and it’s reading about stanford life (and stanford events, in the daily and the stanford report) from such a distance is ever so slightly disorienting… still, i think i’ll try and keep up for as long as i can stand to. though i wish the damn singaporeans would shut the fuck up on the singaporean list, but i feel bad telling them to do that when i’m not even at school any more.

last dinner before i flew off, at applewood (no pizza quite like that in singapore, unfortunately):

so… pink!

ah well, back to camp.

so many goodbyes to say. i didn’t think it was going to be extraordinarily easy, but it’s harder to accept than i thought… still, time marches on, much like i will in the army (well, not quite like i will, since time doesnt fall out to complain about being tired).

i don’t know how many of you will ever read this, but to all you crazy stanford weirdos: cheers, it’s been good times. i hope we meet again. drop me a line when you earn money and can go jetsetting around the world, please visit then. however, please don’t earn money until two years later when i’m done with the army.

and to all you other weirdtards who’re back already, i’ll see you when i get home in a couple of days. it’s been too long.

or not long enough at all.

Almost out of this lovely frustrating beautiful annoying magical nightmarish place. Maybe my times at Stanford weren’t exactly perfect, but they’ll provide for plenty of food for thought on that long 20-hour plane ride back to the rest of my life. I wonder how I’ll feel when that plane takes off, because that’s when it really hits me (the departure, not the airsickness) — maybe I’ll be able to smile and tell myself (like I have my friends here, sorry) that it’s ok, that’s how life goes, we move on. Or maybe I’ll fully comprehend the real loss that taking off from this foreign land actually is for me.

My sentence structures obviously haven’t improved any in four years.

Three more days, and we’ll be through, as the song goes.