The phone lines have finally stopped buzzing and I have finally stopped calling. After it’s past a decent time, it’s simply not courteous to call that person unless millions (or his ass) is at stake.

Of course, after a certain time, the brain decides to shut down as well. The printer that’s been hard at work all day printing your documents decides to take a breather too. It jams time and again, telling you implicitly that this is it, it has had enough of printing and it would like some god-damn rest, thank you very much.

That’s ok, all you need to do is just switch the printer off and on again. Gosh, I’m talking to my printer. This is not good.

I listen to my iPod at this point in time. I’ve had the same 3000 odd songs since 2005 / 2006 and not many songs have been added to it since. Yes, I am too lazy to sync it. The laptop that syncs it automatically has long been dead and not seen the light of day since 2 years back. I think that 3000 odd songs is enough for my late night sojourns in the office. I’ve listened to Les Miserables on quite a frequent basis and it hasn’t gotten old. When I feel particularly oppressed, the songs “One Day More” and “Do you hear the people sing” become my anthems.

Ok, time to head home. Goodbye, my familiar 1.5 metre times 1.2 metre desk. See you tomorrow.

I was very taken with Hilary Mantel’s Man Booker Award-winning book, Wolf Hall. It’s everything I want in a book, a bit of fiction, a bit of history, very very good writing and the English dry wit to boot. I do like historical novels, though it is like the opposite of having spoilers, the reader will wonder, ok, has this happened yet? What is the author’s take on this other connected event? And oh, the author decide to leave out that detail. To me, it balances my need to read fiction and also puts at ease any niggling feelings that I’m wasting my time on reading pure fiction. It’s like what the main character in Murakami’s Dance Dance Dance said, sometimes reading fiction, especially the none too spectacular ones, makes me feel like I’m wasting my life.

I like the rhythm of the prose, the way there are always three descriptions or synonyms for the same thing. I like the fact that she was a lawyer previously and her habit for exactness certainly showed in her novel. I like the play on legalese and its absurdity, though there was not quite enough of that. I also like the sheer volume of the novel. I can’t quite get enough of that great writing. So I’m glad that there is a sequel lined up for fans like me.

As for the plot, I like the central theme of religion and politics in the book as well. Having watched the movie, the “Other Boleyn Sister”, it was a pity the clergy didn’t feature much in that movie. Not too impressed with that movie either, though I am a fan of Natalie Portman.

As for characters, I like the main protagonist, the anti-hero (I think) – Thomas Cromwell. The sheer number of characters in that novel makes it sometimes difficult to keep track of who’s who and in addition there’s quite a few characters with common names like Mary, Thomas but I guess it’s not like Mantel can retrospectively change the names of historical figures just to avoid confusion to the readers. Nonetheless, this makes for some heavy reading, not something you can do when you are half asleep.

I envy Thomas Cromwell’s ability to sleep so little (“a mere four hours will refresh him”). I like his sardonic wit, his intellect, fierce loyalty to the cardinal, his decency and humanity. After he has risen to become the king’s right hand man, he was obviously trying to avoid unnecessary bloodshed and was trying to save the martyr. His inability to understand why people would choose to die over compromising their principles or beliefs is something identifiable to those who find it difficult to believe in absolutes. To those, where sometimes right and wrong is not so stark, and most things appear to be that pallid shade of grey.

I can’t wait for the next book. In my hunger, I ventured to read her other works, like “Beyond Black”. However, it was quite a far far cry from “Wolf Hall”. The writing was contemporary, and written in a stream of consciousness style, my least favourite writing style. I like structure in a book, preferably in chronological order as well. The multiple flashbacks and portrayal of memories enshrouded in mystery and deep black sin and depravity was just not my cup of tea. Nevertheless, I read finish the book for the sake of its cleverer, wittier sibling.

So go to a bookstore and read Wolf Hall already. It will rock your socks.

Then there are the games. The addictive games that takes about 2 minutes and pits your high score against all your so-called friends. It’s demanding, exhilarating and gets facebookers hooked until the wee hours of the morning. Its draw is not to be underestimated.

My favourite application, or rather function of Facebook is its ability to upload tons of pictures and for your to surf all your ‘friends’ pictures as well. Voyeuring at its best! What better way then to find out how your secondary classmates look 10 years since you’ve met. Read comments, comment yourself and it’s just amazing how the next time you looked at the clock, about 2 hours has whizzed by. Not to mention the event invitation function as well. Invitations ranging from social gatherings to wedding dinners can be done through Facebook.

Think. How often does one use the term Facebook in normal conversation? Has it become as ubiquitous as Google? And how many of us recall its sinister classist beginnings which restricted membership to college students only (or those that manage to get a college email)? Right now, your mother can be on Facebook and that is a disturbing prospect for many.

Facebook – the ultimate social website. This is not said in an attempt to advertise or to criticise. We share a complicated relationship, oh how I hate myself for loving you. It happens.

So that’s one of the benefits of living in a HDB flat, to be reminded of one’s mortality. Which I think most of us try to avoid. If not things become pretty meaningless. The thing is, it’s impossible to live life like you are going to die the next day, you can enjoy all you want and bathe in champagne for all anyone cares. But the issue is, what if one doesn’t die tmr. Then you’re stuck with the champagne bill and life for the living doesn’t become too fun after that.

And the other thing about living in a HDB flat is the term ‘heartlanders’. The term is derogatory to most Singaporeans. And I wonder whether the person who named the mall in Hougang the “Heartland Mall” feel like shooting himself or herself. What is the term supposed to connote anyway? A rural vs ‘I-live-at-The-Sail’ kind of city living? Its exact meaning eludes me. I understand that people judge other people according to their address and whatever district they live in. But if a heartlander means someone who lives in a HDB flat, that covers about 80% of Singaporeans. If it means the supposedly rural (read, poorer areas) of Singapore, the issue is where? If they mean a certain type of people, then why judge them by the type of estate that they owned, which is owned by a vast majority of Singaporeans? Its imprecise meaning irks me. Of course, there’s also a television program that has the term as its name, though I don’t think they were aware that it’s a not-so-nice term.

Anyhow, basically, life is short, go live it.

Well, at least they are transparent, all Singaporeans now know exactly how much was lost.

It’s true that everything is much clearer with hindsight, and perhaps no one could have known that BOA wouldn’t be nationalised, which would greatly diminished the value of its stock. What would anyone do in TH position? Well, your guess is as good as mine and there is simply no way of foretelling the future. To me, it’s just another story concerning big dollars and hence newsworthy. It won’t increase or decrease my taxes. It won’t have a significant impact on anything that I do. Ergo, I’m not too bothered by it. It’s not apathy, it’s numbness.

Which makes me wonder why we haven’t got more serious bloggers to date? The region’s blogging scene seems quite active to me, including Malaysia and especially Korea where the approval or rather disapproval of the internet community is enough to make their artists commit suicide. Maybe Singaporeans are just lost in Facebook or Twitter and blogging actual paragraphs and detailing events and incidents is too much effort. But I find twittering slightly stupid. What is the point of me telling the world what I’m doing at 2.37pm in the afternoon? (1) who is interested in that sort of triviality? (2) A series of actions taken separately makes no sense in itself (3) I can think of better things to do with my time. But maybe I might be wrong and it’s like the haiku version of a poem, reduce it to 17 syllables and poetry will come out of it and blossom like a pretty flower in spring – simple and natural.

Hmm, somehow I doubt it.

Not that I mind Facebook. I think it’s a great tool to get hooked up to the rest of the 180 friends that I have and superpoke each other till kingdom come but sometimes, the idea of it eludes me. I’d rather spend time with a good friend or two then waste all that social energy on something that might or might not be able to reach another person. Surely we all have a limited amount of social energy, and once expended it will surely take time to be replenished. We are all disembodied commentators of uploaded photos with a profile picture. But hey, I think it’s convenient, fun and useful to amalgamate photos and commenting on them. It’s just that once the whole world started doing it I was a little perturbed. Once everyone gets on the bandwagon, it becomes the norm without question. And everytime when facebook tells me that I’d be granting access to the rest of my information once I clicked on an application, I would rather not have the application. Eventually, we all accepted it as the norm, regardless of whether they are your colleagues (or even your boss!). And so we surrender all our personal infomation, good thing I have not updated my records and details for the longest time.

On an altogether separate final note, I hope the economy will bounce back on its own two feet and I’ll stop feeling guilty for shopping.

Normal is not what this film is. It’s not the normal superheroes movie and seeks to be the anti-superhero movie. It’s not just about the good bad-boys or the bad-good boys, but its about the disillusioned demi-god good bad guys that makes the cynical bad guys look good. All in all, it’s a cool movie and it is unpredictable (that is, if you haven’t read the graphic novel / its synopsis) shocking and absurd. The director definitely did not pull punches in this one, and each plot turn hits you in the face. I seldom cover my eyes and turn my face away in a movie but I did that a couple of times in this one.

Maybe I’m just squeamish. But the whole effect of the movie is unsettling – its raw, unbridled violence exhibited without qualms by the main characters and the elegance and efficiency of pure evil are all portrayed. All in all, this makes me uncomfortable. So if you want a feel-good movie on a Saturday evening, go catch something else. Leave this dark and brooding movie for another dark and gloomy day. There is definitely no good triumphing over the evil in this movie and it’s all about exploring the gray side – and I paraphrase the Comedian ” .. it’s all a practical joke, I thought I knew how the world works, but it’s all just a joke.”

Do catch the movie though. It makes good fodder for post-movie discussion.

I am the axis that my world revolves around. In technicolour, it revolves around. I need a disco ball in this world of mine.

The futility of feelings, of communicating them when it doesn’t do a whit. The necessity of it nevertheless. The problem with logic is that the force of it is never quite as strong as feelings. One can understand logically, but it won’t cause the feelings to abate. Instead it adds to that sense of frustration, the frustration that one understands the other side but yet can’t help feeling the way one is and feeling smaller as a result. Ahh, the evil that empathy can do to oneself.

And there you have the whole Olympic torch route thing being changed and Chinese youths who are angry that their country has been treated so badly. They are mad that the one event they’ve been preparing for since the time it was announced 4 years ago is in jeopardy by this Tibet issue. They’ve been cleaning up the streets, building new spanking buildings, all spruced up for the Olympics and now at the eve of the event, there’s international disagreement as to the stance that China should take about Tibet. So the Chinese youths rant and rile on the forums online except that internationally, the impact is softened because the forums are in Chinese and only the Chinese understands.

Firstly, I think it’s strangely funny that the amount of Chinese national rage has been understated internationally due to the unfamiliarity with the Chinese language. But it’s understandable. Chinese is one of the hardest languages to learn and the youths in Singapore will attest to that fact. Especially if they hail from ACS and like-minded schools. But that’s an aside.

The real issue is that China, in its national interests, should have taken a more diplomatic stance than to keep reiterating that it’s an ‘internal / national issue’. The problem is also that the Dalai Lama, being the Dalai Lama, has moral authority on his side. It may not be actual moral authority, but such authority is assumed. He appears on television with his kindly smile and mild mannered nature, donned in his religious robes, a perfect picture of conciliatory discussion. On the other hand, you have a Chinese official, decked out in his military outfit as he speaks to the reporters, a picture of austerity and high handedness. It’s not difficult to understand why the entire world did not even bother trying to see this story from China’s point of view. It became the big bully naturally. And no one questions why. The United States of America, in my humble opinion, should keep quiet(er) about it. Before one points out a speck in her brother’s eye, one should take out the plank in its own eye. Iraq is US plank. So it should shut up about it.

I may be trivialising the issue here. In fact, I know I am. The key point is that a healthy dose of diplomacy never did any country any harm. China should be seen to want to compromise on the issue of Tibet, even if it is not. Although that is form without substance, at least there will be a form. With that form, people can then address complaints and constructive criticisms will bring about the impetus needed for creating substance behind that form. First form, then substance. And no crowds will run amok.