refuge for the witless

six hundred and eleven

2012-01-29T17:08:00.000+08:00

Virgin clubber :X well no longer.

Walking into the cavernous black maw of St James Power Station was akin to walking into the entrance of a roller coaster ride: nauseating. But after that it was okay.

six hundred and ten

2012-01-24T23:01:00.000+08:00

Thanks to Zhi Xiang for hosting!

six hundred and nine

2012-01-21T16:37:00.001+08:00

Trawling through my blog, I stumbled upon this... poem... that I thought I had written years ago. I only thought I had written it it - not because I was unsure whether it was I who had written it (it was) - but because I thought that what I had written was a poem.

It's not.

MATTER

Matter is defined
as anything with mass and volume.
Anything that amounts to something, however tiny
and insignificant, in the galaxy of the world
amid the rolling plains of time,
space, fourth dimensions and whatnot;
occupying a space in the here and the now,
in the mind and the heart. Also,
volumes of knowledge, persisting on
past the eyes and through the ears
and also the years. Books?
they are but black scrawls in random order,
trying to tell us something
forgotten long ago.

The rest of this intergalactic crap is too painful to repeat again.

There's a lot of other stuff, now that I look back at it from years later, that is quite embarrassing. Something interesting about a blog is that you can view your mental state of years ago, and know that you've changed since then.

What of fidelity and loyalty? Complete trust? Faith is not granted by tangible proof. It comes from the heart and the soul. If a person needs proof of a god's existence, then the very notion of spirituality is diminished in sensuality and we have reduced what is holy into what is logical.

Siege of Darkness - R.A. Salvatore

six hundred and eight

2012-01-17T12:53:00.000+08:00

Spent my off day redecorating this blog. Hope it looks better now!

That's why I couldn't be happier
No, I couldn't be happier
Though it is, I admit
The tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
(well - not "simply")
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of: cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still -
With this perfect finale
The cheers and ballyhoo
Who
Wouldn't be happier?
So I couldn't be happier
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true
Well, isn't it?
Happy is what happens
When your dreams come true!

Thank Goodness - Kristin Chenoweth

It's amazing how the lyrics are happy but she can make the song so sad.

six hundred and seven

2012-01-14T23:23:00.000+08:00

Of the few things I like about parades, I like that no matter how resolutely contrived they may be, the forced grandeur and regimental atmosphere do bring out a sense of pride and accomplishment. Especially when it is a graduation parade. Even if it isn't mine.

This officers' commissioning parade is the second largest parade in Singapore, after the NDP. Congratulations to all newly minted 2LTs!

Saw enough RJ people to feel that half my batch was in the audience, and the other half was commissioning.

six hundred and six

2012-01-12T23:33:00.001+08:00

Because no man is an island, and everyone needs each other.

Because when you show your best to people, you're more likely to see their best. Because no one is willing to go on a limb for a selfish person.

Because the environment doesn't matter; whether school, work or army, being a good person shines through to others. Because I believe that everyone notices you, and judges you based on what you do. Because I aspire to be someone that others can go "hey... that's a good guy. Perhaps I can trust him."

Because sucking thumb isn't an army concept. Because someone has to bite the bullet and set the example. Because having a positive attitude is the right thing to do, and I find it important to do the right things. Because I know that I am resilient and can do things well, and can handle my burden and others' too.

Because trust is underrated. Because taking the initiative is difficult, but necessary. Because building relationships isn't smooth sailing; as much as desired, effortless love and friendship is the stuff of fairy tales. Because I'd rather be trustful and bullied than savvy and distant, and would rather risk getting taken advantage of than to close myself off. Because I value friendship highly.

Because I am blessed with the knowledge that I can shape myself.

Because I have been empowered throughout my life.

Because of this, I do the things that I do.

six hundred and five

2012-01-09T21:07:00.001+08:00

Something good about DC Universe Online is that when leveling and constantly changing gear, you are allowed to retain whatever colour scheme and armour/weapon style you so desire. Hence, unlike in WoW, you don't look like a multicoloured clown constantly shifting in hue every few levels.

six hundred and four

2012-01-07T22:29:00.000+08:00

Class outing! First in a long time.

My first time singing karaoke. I must apologize for contributing horrible singing but it was fun :).

I wonder how many glasses of alcohol I would have to drink to get drunk?

---

DC Universe Online; can't see it addicting me for long, but is a good time killer while levelling.

six hundred and three

2012-01-05T22:43:00.001+08:00

Firers, 100 meters, random targets, watch your front,

watch

your

front.

It felt kinda good to be shooting the SAR 21 again.

---

"The entire institution of gift giving makes no sense. Let's say that I go out, and I spend $50 on you; it's a laborious activity, because I have to imagine what you need, whereas you know what you need. I could simplify things by just giving you the $50 directly, and then you could give me $50 on my birthday, and then so on and so forth, until one of us dies and leaves the other one old and $50 richer! And I ask you, is it worth it?"

"But Sheldon, you're his friend! Friends give each other presents!"

"I accept your premise, I reject your conclusion."

- Sheldon and Penny on a birthday gift

"You see, the danger was that I might under or over-reciprocate, but I have devised a foolproof plan. I will open her gift to me first, then excuse myself feigning digestive distress. Then, I will look up the price of her gift online, choose the basket closest to that value and give it to her, then exchange the rest for a full refund."

"Why couldn't you have just done what Leonard did and got Penny a new boyfriend?"

- Sheldon and Howard on a gift exchange

six hundred and two

2012-01-02T21:10:00.000+08:00

Thanks for coming everyone!

six hundred and one

2011-12-31T18:40:00.001+08:00

CODA VII

Perhaps once RWinds and CODA and all that meant a lot more than it did. But the fire burned dim. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the concert immensely.

six hundred

2011-12-25T22:35:00.000+08:00

Merry Christmas!

five hundred and ninety nine

2011-12-23T23:59:00.000+08:00

Christmas karma.

I was panicking because before the SI "platoon" BBQ I hadn't done proper preparation for the gift exchange. I actually should have gone out to buy something, but I forgot >< so I was looking around the house for spare presents. Couldn't find anything worth giving, so I decided to give away something that I had bought in the UK for myself. I must say I was loath to part with it, but I suppose that was punishment for not preparing properly.

In giving away this present of mine, chance so happened in the exchange that I got a new wallet. Only upon getting it did I realize that I needed a new one.

Parting with something that I really didn't want to part with kind of came back on itself by giving me something that I needed. The Christmas spirit indeed; giving and receiving. The small and simple act of giving something can sometimes surprise you by reciprocating something to you in an unexpected way.

I won't ever drink from my orange Tigger mug again, but I got a nice looking wallet that does not have a gaping hole in the coin pocket, unlike my former one.

So give and be merry this Christmas!!

five hundred and ninety eight

2011-12-20T23:25:00.000+08:00

NINETEEN ~

doesn't feel much different from eighteen.

Last year this time I had just enlisted, training and being indoctrinated and yes suffering too on Pulau Tekong. Next year this time I will be liberated.

For now, let it just mark where the glass is half empty.

---

Backdated from 21st. Went to a meat buffet for birthday dinner!

Do you think the meat spells my name?

five hundred and ninety seven

2011-12-17T01:32:00.000+08:00

It was touching to watch the graduation parade for the SCTs today. Every move they made, command they executed hearkened back to myself, three short months ago.

Very appropriate song at the end. At the words "every day I'm shufflin'" at least 1/3rd of the parade square began to dance.

five hundred and ninety six

2011-12-14T19:30:00.000+08:00

Love this song. I hated the Black Eyed Peas techno remix, but this one really sounds out as an anthem of happy endings, romantic finale, and celebratory closure.

I've had the time of my life
No I never felt this way before
Yes I swear it's the truth
And I owe it all to you
'Cause I've had the time of my life
And I've searched through every open door
'Til I found the truth
And I owe it all to you

Time Of My Life - Glee

Of course the original from Dirty Dancing is just classic too.

five hundred and ninety five

2011-12-11T15:39:00.000+08:00

UK Holiday in pictures! I know it's late, but it took a long while to upload everything.

03/12 [DAY 0] - Breakfast On The Plane

03/12 [DAY 0] - First Dinner: First Of The Chips & Mash

03/12 [DAY 0] - Hot Chocolate!

04/12 [DAY 1] - Chips Not Fries

04/12 [DAY 1] - Full English Breakfast

04/12 [DAY 1] - Shakespeare's Cottage

04/12 [DAY 1] - A Pretty Sundial

04/12 [DAY 1] - Even In Winter

04/12 [DAY 1] - Not Sure of the Difference Between Emus and These Guys

04/12 [DAY 1] - Er, Goats?

04/12 [DAY 1] - Zebra Moseying In

04/12 [DAY 1] - Wallabies. Plural.

04/12 [DAY 1] - Oh Deer.

04/12 [DAY 1] - Rhinos!

04/12 [DAY 1] - Awwww

04/12 [DAY 1] - Spots

04/12 [DAY 1] - Hyenas

04/12 [DAY 1] - Lions

04/12 [DAY 1] - White Lions

04/12 [DAY 1] - Lionesses

04/12 [DAY 1] - More Goats

04/12 [DAY 1] - Fallow Deer

04/12 [DAY 1] - Fellow Deers

04/12 [DAY 1] - White Tiger

04/12 [DAY 1] - Elephants

04/12 [DAY 1] - Camel

04/12 [DAY 1] - Horse I Guess?

04/12 [DAY 1] - Penguins

04/12 [DAY 1] - Reindeer

04/12 [DAY 1] - Parking Ticket

05/12 [DAY 2] - A Night Of Snow

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snowy Land

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snow Prints

05/12 [DAY 2] - Not Cold Enough

05/12 [DAY 2] - On The Road

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snow Plains

05/12 [DAY 2] - Mossy Brick

05/12 [DAY 2] - White

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snowing!

05/12 [DAY 2] - Tabletop

05/12 [DAY 2] - Windscreen

05/12 [DAY 2] - Ice

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snow On The Plants

05/12 [DAY 2] - :)

05/12 [DAY 2] - Lucy The Cat

05/12 [DAY 2] - Lunch

05/12 [DAY 2] - Waterfall

05/12 [DAY 2] - Through The Woods

05/12 [DAY 2] - Snow On The Grass

05/12 [DAY 2] - Little Town

05/12 [DAY 2] - Crying Cat

05/12 [DAY 2] - Dinner... Name Unsure

05/12 [DAY 2] - Gingerbread Man

06/12 [DAY 3] - A Night Of Ice

06/12 [DAY 3] - James Herriot's House

06/12 [DAY 3] - Veterinary Bottles

06/12 [DAY 3] - A Tower At The Wall Around York

06/12 [DAY 3] - York Minster

07/12 [DAY 4] - Breakfast At Cambridge

07/12 [DAY 4] - 2 Pound Coin

07/12 [DAY 4] - Mathematical Bridge

07/12 [DAY 4] - Green Field

07/12 [DAY 4] - Light Through The Trees

07/12 [DAY 4] - Golden And Green

07/12 [DAY 4] - Pizza Night In London

07/12 [DAY 4] - ... With The UK Students!

07/12 [DAY 4] - The Wizard Of Oz

07/12 [DAY 4] - The Witches... From The Original Story

07/12 [DAY 4] - Munchkins

08/12 [DAY 5] - Sourdough Breakfast! From Burger King

08/12 [DAY 5] - Pigeons

08/12 [DAY 5] - The Red Telephone Box

08/12 [DAY 5] - London Speckled Cab

08/12 [DAY 5] - Soho District London

08/12 [DAY 5] - Ji Fan

08/12 [DAY 5] - Legally Blonde

08/12 [DAY 5] - The Musicians' Pit

08/12 [DAY 5] - Trafalgar Square

08/12 [DAY 5] - Congo Protest

08/12 [DAY 5] - London Eye

08/12 [DAY 5] - Big Ben

08/12 [DAY 5] - Westminster Abbey

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! The Book

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! Victoria Apollo Theater

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! Brilliant Theater

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! From The Grand Circle

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! Defying Gravity

08/12 [DAY 5] - Wicked! For Good

08/12 [DAY 5] - A Wicked End To A Wicked Holiday

09/12 [DAY 6] - Japanese Breakfast

five hundred and ninety four

2011-12-02T22:11:00.001+08:00

Step one to learning how to drive.

hiatus
hi·a·tus /hīˈātəs/
Noun:
A pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.

Will be in LONDON from 3 DEC to 10 DEC if need contact try email! Not sure how much Internet access I will have there.

five hundred and ninety three

2011-11-27T21:58:00.001+08:00

Everyone has their obsessions, but not everyone has others to share them with.

Glinda's and Elphaba's dresses. Awesome stuff.

Performance of For Good, from Wicked, by the two upcoming leads in the Wicked production at Marina Bay Sands - Suzie Mathers and Jemma Rix. Was a great duet!

Note to self: do not go to a performance where apart from Wicked stuff and attendance by our President, there are also several hordes of crazy fangirls, each supporting their idols who also perform.

The lighting at this path made for an interesting shot.

You Are The Apple Of My Eye was a good show, if you can take all the masturbation scenes and multiple-legged creatures and crude humour with a truckload of salt.

---

TBBT

Sheldon: "I believe I would like to alter the paradigm of our relationship."

Amy: "I'm listening."

Sheldon: "With the understanding that nothing changes whatsoever, physical or otherwise, I would not object to us no longer characterizing you as not-my-girlfriend."

Amy: "Interesting. Now try it without the quadruple negative."

five hundred and ninety two

2011-11-24T22:16:00.001+08:00

I got my new passport, looked at all the stamps on the old one that wasn't Malaysia. I consider myself fortunate to have been all over the globe: in the past five years, Britain, Japan, Switzerland, India, Egypt, Indonesia, Australia.

For some reason I can't find the one that got me to China in Dec 09.

TBBT - on Sheldon wanting to find out how magic tricks work:

Penny: "Big deal! Not knowing is part of the fun!"

Sheldon: "'Not knowing is part of the fun' - what, was that the motto of your community college?"

five hundred and ninety one

2011-11-20T23:11:00.001+08:00

Celine Dion is one of those timeless singers that different generations can recognize and listen to.

The whispers in the morning
Of lovers sleeping tight
Are rolling like thunder now
As I look in your eyes
I hold on to your body
And feel each move you make
Your voice is warm and tender
A love that I could not forsake

'Cause I'm your lady
And you are my man
Whenever you reach for me
I'll do all that I can
We're heading for something
Somewhere I've never been
Sometimes I am frightened but I'm ready to learn
Of the power of love

The sound of your heart beating
Made it clear suddenly
The feeling that I can't go on
Is light years away

'Cause I'm your lady
And you are my man
Whenever you reach for me
I'm gonna do all that I can
We're heading for something
Somewhere I've never been
Sometimes I am frightened but I'm ready to learn
Of the power of love

The Power Of Love - Celine Dion

five hundred and ninety

2011-11-19T22:47:00.004+08:00

If thou should looketh it full in the face, methinks the soul do be drawn into the abyss.

five hundred and eighty nine

2011-11-17T17:24:00.005+08:00

Language is the dress of thought; every time you talk, your mind is on parade. - Dr Samuel Johnson

I like that e-card below. Click it!

five hundred and eighty eight

2011-11-13T22:04:00.003+08:00

birthday birthday birthday birthday

birthday birthday

Happy birthday Brent :)

five hundred and eighty seven

2011-11-11T19:49:00.002+08:00

On the 11th of November, 2011, at 11 minutes and 11 seconds past 11 AM, I was:

de·gauss - verb /dēˈgous/
degaussed, past participle; degaussed, past tense; degausses, 3rd person singular present; degaussing, present participle
demagnetize: make nonmagnetic; take away the magnetic properties (of); "demagnetize the iron shavings"; "they degaussed the ship"

Degaussing is the process of decreasing or eliminating an unwanted magnetic field. It is named after Carl Friedrich Gauss, an early researcher in the field of magnetism. Due to magnetic hysteresis it is generally not possible to reduce a magnetic field completely to zero, so degaussing typically induces a very small "known" field referred to as bias.

Data is stored in the magnetic media, such as hard drives, floppy disks, and magnetic tape, by making very small areas called magnetic domains change their magnetic alignment to be in the direction of an applied magnetic field. This phenomenon occurs in much the same way a compass needle points in the direction of the Earth's magnetic field. Degaussing, commonly called erasure, leaves the domains in random patterns with no preference to orientation, thereby rendering previous data unrecoverable. There are some domains whose magnetic alignment is not randomized after degaussing. The information these domains represent is commonly called magnetic remanence or remanent magnetization. Proper degaussing will ensure there is insufficient magnetic remanence to reconstruct the data.

Erasure via degaussing may be accomplished in two ways: in AC erasure, the medium is degaussed by applying an alternating field that is reduced in amplitude over time from an initial high value (i.e., AC powered); in DC erasure, the medium is saturated by applying a unidirectional field (i.e., DC powered or by employing a permanent magnet).

A degausser is a device that can generate a magnetic field for degaussing magnetic storage media.

- Wikipedia & WordNet Search

Happy 11/11/11 11:11:11 everybody.

five hundred and eighty six

2011-11-10T22:54:00.003+08:00

New specs.

Really, is that most interesting?

five hundred and eighty five

2011-11-08T21:24:00.003+08:00

A rather thought provoking article here. It stipulates that friendships after closure (that is to say, after a parting of ways even after graduation from a stage of life e.g. switching school, JC graduation, ORD) will fragment, and when you need to exert effort into maintaining the relationship, it doesn't feel natural and kinda dies out.

Makes you wonder if your friendship has withered, and whether that friendship was just one of convenience, and whether it was truly friendship if it died so quickly. At the same time, you identify the friends that persist past the communication void of physical distance; something you couldn't see when everyone regularly hung out together back in the days.

This article touched me because it is real. To all those who have great friends, read this and know.

Acknowledge. Accept. Cherish.

I did not write this: article here

You Only Have Two Real Friends, Maximum

One of the interesting side effects of moving across the world for an as-yet-undetermined length of time is seeing friendships molt, wither, and then–usually–fade into oblivion. Most friends and lovers (I hate that term, by the way, but it’s more palatable than “person you are occasionally boning”) become nothing more than a few conversations over the span of a year that consist mostly of “Man, it’s been forever. Wow.”

And I know what you’re thinking: “My friends/bffs/blood sisters/trusted clergy members are different. We would Skype regularly if one of us lived on THE MOON.” I know, I thought so, too. As does everyone when they take an extended leave of absence. When we leave, we do so with the best of intentions: Lots of hugs, a couple of tears, breathless promises to call all the time. And while some relationships can’t even stand the separation of a semester away, at least those come with a finite end, and can be planned for and adjusted to. When one just moves away, there’s no motivation to keep the spark alive–you guys might never regularly hang out again.

It’s rather depressing, the trajectory a friendship takes when put on indefinite hiatus. There are an opening few weeks or perhaps an excited little month in which you talk every day, almost. You have so much to say, things are so awesome, you guys can’t wait to tell each other all about that evil wench in line at the grocery store and this guy who could totally hit it if he wanted to but is–as of yet–oblivious to your existence. Then, gradually, conversations become less frequent and more of a chore. Recounting everything that happened since your last big chat–if there’s nothing particularly pressing to discuss–becomes an exercise in forced enthusiasm. “Oh, you took a poop today? TWO!? Big girl on campus!” Eventually, you are reduced to occasionally seeing each other on Facebook chat and barely mustering a “Hey, what’s up?” followed by a “brb” that never ends. And these are people with whom you used to share everything, with whom you exchanged knowing glances at house parties and shared Deer Park bottles full of vodka.

And let’s not even think about the path that most romantic long-distance relationships take, as that is far too sad to even consider.

But the silver lining on all of this is those one or two people that truly stand out–the ones with whom you actually do KIT (Keep In Touch, for the middle-school yearbook illiterate). When there is that person with whom you actually enjoy regular conversation, sharing mundane news, and talking about events that you didn’t necessarily experience together, it’s so satisfying in a way most friendships aren’t. It’s a love that says “You’re amazing and interesting even when it’s not easy to get to you. You are worth the effort.” It’s a beautiful thing and, in some ways, restorative of the perhaps over-zealous and often-broken faith we have in close friendships. It’s a selfless, platonic, mutual love. It’s a Shell Silverstein book drinking together over Skype.

Although we must also acknowledge what that really implies about most of our other friendships: Whether we like it or not, a good portion (if not the majority) of our relationships are built as much on proximity and convenience as on real love and compatibility. Which is fine, of course, as long as we acknowledge it. A friendship that will go the distance and be just as vital when there isn’t the daily drama and intimacy of shared experience is incredibly rare. We have a lot of friendships that are, ultimately, based heavily on amount of time spent at house parties and number of romantic prospects you laughingly veto over drinks.

So cheers to the friends who make it through the distance, and it’s a shame we can’t pick them out as easily when we’re together all the time. They certainly deserve the recognition. But I suppose, if you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, it might behoove you to ask yourself the question as you glance around the next drunken gathering: If I lived in Hong Kong, which one of these douchebags would snail mail me Reese’s cups?

Nov. 4, 2011

By Chelsea Fagan

On thoughtcatalog.com

five hundred and eighty four

2011-11-03T22:51:00.004+08:00

If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail - the law of the instrument.

From various web sources.

I like the idea that your personal alignment can be simplified as such. Good versus Evil, Lawful versus Chaotic - it acknowledges that within Good/Evil, there are still controversies over their methods. Perhaps the greatest mavericks of all are Lawful Evil and Chaotic Good.

Of course, this is just an idea from Dungeons and Dragons. If only real life were so simple.

five hundred and eighty three

2011-11-02T23:08:00.004+08:00

Every day, I rouse to the most irritating bleeps of my alarm clock.

The handphone is my pocket buddy throughout the day, a necessity for contactability.

When I come home each day, the computer keeps me till bed.

On weekends, my camera goes in the other pocket to document what needs be when I go out.

And this list of gadgets sums up my daily routine.

---

Ankyloglossia

commonly known as tongue tied, is a congenital oral anomaly which may decrease mobility of the tongue tip and is caused by an unusually short, thick lingual frenulum, a membrane connecting the underside of the tongue to the floor of the mouth. Ankyloglossia varies in degree of severity from mild cases characterized by mucous membrane bands to complete ankyloglossia whereby the tongue is tethered to the floor of the mouth.

EH SO THIS CONDITION IS REAL?!?

I swear that the picture on Wikipedia for this ankyloglossia is EXACTLY what I have in my mouth. And it fits with past experience. For instance, my tongue cannot move freely between the base and roof of my mouth - my excuse for having bad clarinet tonguing. I cannot say "lah" with the up/down motion of the tongue I see most people can do.

Messner and Lalakea studied speech in children with ankyloglossia. They noted that the phonemes likely to be affected due to ankyloglossia include sibilants and lingual sounds such as 'r'. In addition, the authors also state that it is uncertain as to which patients will have a speech disorder that can be linked to ankyloglossia and that there is no way to predict at a young age which patients will need treatment. According to their study, a large percent of children with ankyloglossia will have articulation deficits that can be linked to tongue tie and these deficits may be improved with surgery. The authors also note that ankyloglossia does not cause a delay in speech or language but, at the most, problems with enunciation.

Does the inability to enunciate 'th' result from this too? Three trees. Tree threes.

Subjects noted one or more mechanical limitations which included cuts or discomfort underneath the tongue and difficulties with kissing, licking one’s lips, eating an ice cream cone, keeping one’s tongue clean and performing tongue tricks. In addition, subjects noted social effects such as embarrassment and teasing. The authors concluded that this study confirmed anecdotal evidence of mechanical problems associated with ankyloglossia and that it suggests that the kinds of mechanical and social problems noted may be more prevalent than previously thought. Furthermore, the authors note that some patients may be unaware of the extent of the limitations they have due to ankyloglossia since they have never experienced normal tongue range.

Well I'm sold. Not right now, but sometime in the future I will go and get this checked up.

Whether it has diminished the quality of my life such that I would consider surgery is another matter. Who knows, maybe it MIGHT clear up a couple of enunciation issues, double my clarinet tonguing speed, and enable me to roll my tongue for the first time.

The surgical procedure is called frenuloplasty.

I suggest you do not Google frenuloplasty. That's just the clinical term for the removal of tissue that restricts motion (frenulum), and the tongue is just one area which can have frenulum, if you catch my drift.

five hundred and eighty two

2011-10-29T23:29:00.006+08:00

Happy birthdays to RWinds peeps! :)

And also to Leonard! Thanks for the BBQ and cake and everything! :)

Nice to see part of the class again :D

---

MOBA games - Multiplayer Online Battle Arena (MOBA) games of the Dota genre. The genre puts emphasis on team-play; players on each team can select and control one Hero, a powerful unit with various abilities and advantages to form a team's overall strategy. The objective of such games is for the player's team to destroy the opposing side's main structure with the help of periodically spawned computer-controlled units that march towards the enemy's main structure. Objective derivations of the genre include timed territorial control of specific areas around the map instead of the destruction of the main structure found in the opponent's base.

From Wikipedia, Dota (genre).

Having played stuff like DotA, LoL, and HoN for years now, I think I've gotten acclimatized to the climate of such communities: players of MOBA games are in general not nice people. Why? Because the game isn't noob friendly, and the insanely steep learning curve provides a solid barrier to entry to anyone who isn't determined enough to learn. In learning how to play, you will most definitely encounter a lot of hate and flak, which serves as a pretty effective deterrent.

And unless you are vastly experienced, you will like and be able to play some heroes, and dislike others. In the end you will probably like one or two styles, and be not so good at the rest: carry, support, solo, jungler, pusher, ganker, massive-AoE-ulti-guy etc.

I was watching one of my regular gaming commentaries, and this question about such MOBA games was brought up: is it alright to have fun at the expense of the team, or must you play a hero or style in the way that you may not find that enjoyable, but serves to bring the team victory?

From 8:22

The Question

Dear TotalBiscuit,

You have mentioned in previous mailboxes the idea of one bad player ruining the fun for the entire team, particularly in the case of MOBA games. I hate that I go into games that I am not particularly good at, and people kick me or end the match because I don't follow the current 'metagame', or such, and rather try to play the game to have fun. In the lobbies, people will claim that their loss denied them the fun all due to my bad playing. My question is this: are players in many games too fixated on their victory rather than enjoying themselves, and should people play games they can't enjoy unless they win?

His Answer (spoken, I took out some colloquialisms)

Now to me this does demonstrate something of a particularly selfish attitude; something I saw an awfully a lot of in WoW as well, and I condemn it there as I condemn it here. Your fun, versus the fun of four others; which one is more valuable? That would be the fun of the four others; the needs of the many always outweigh the needs of the few.

And honestly, it is a bit of a straw man argument going on here in that - oh, the elite players can't enjoy the games they can't win. No, that's actually not true. There are some people like that, but I would say that the majority of the people, myself included, will enjoy a really well fought game. They will not enjoy a one-sided slugfest because one player on the team let the side down simply because they refused to 'fit with the metagame'.

It is the same problem we get when we go into Solo Ranked. We start getting sorted out, and okay we've got our first pick, a pretty powerful first pick because hey, that hero wasn't banned, so we grab that. Let's grab our jungler, let's get our solo mid AP, and we're gonna grab our AD bottom. So what's the last pick going to be? Okay, we need you to go support; you're bottom, and we'd appreciate it if you would go support, and you decided to pick Veigar.

---!!!---
I haven't played Solo Ranked before, but I think it's like Captain's Mode.

Top: the first pick, probably a powerful solo hero (think Admiral, Necrolyte)
Mid: the solo mid Ability Power hero (powerful nuker/ganker, think Tinker)
Jungle: a jungling hero (think Chen, Enchantress, Dark Seer)
Bottom: an Attack Damage hero (THE CARRY, think Drow, Troll, Void) and Veigar

In a nutshell, Veigar is an AP 'carry' because of his skills - a nuke, a AoE nuke, a AoE stun, and a Laguna Blade ulti. In LoL, Ability Power can be increased as Attack Damage can, i.e. you can add damage to spells by increasing your AP. He is potent in this because:

1. His first, mana-cheap skill reads: If the unit is killed by this skill, Veigar gains 1 ability power.
2. His passive ability reads: Veigar gains bonus ability power for each champion kill from any damage source.

So the whole idea of Veigar is to farm, kill, stack loads of AP, and deal huge damage. The problem with laning bottom with another carry becomes apparent.
---!!!---

Right, so that's our game lost now, because Veigar has no place whatsoever in the bottom lane, and is stealing kills from the AD carry because Veigar doesn't work unless you do that. I have had that happen on more than one occasion.

The problem is that some people - not saying that's you, but some people - have this attitude that my fun is more important than everyone else's fun, and as a direct result I'm going to play something cool and niche, and not within the metagame. You want to know why having something like Veigar in the bottom lane is not in the metagame? Because it's bad. Because it doesn't work. It is mathematically inferior to other set-ups.

There is a reason why you take a support and an AD carry in the bottom. That is the metagame because that is the optimal way of playing, and that is the one that makes sense. If you have two people that are both reliant on last hits, then they will both be weaker by the end of the game, unless they both have a significant number of kills, which probably won't happen, because League of Legends is a very passive game; towers are too powerful, and hey, Flash, lol.

---!!!---
Every champion gets two free skills, which can include one called Flash if you so choose. It is a blink with a 255s cooldown that can be activated at any time unless you are stunned. In a nutshell, free escape.
---!!!---

So that's just kind of how the game works in that regard, and that's why it is set-up the way that it is. We've had people insist on going top lane to join the solo top champion, disregarding that the solo top is there for a good reason. If you join the solo top who is Nasus, for instance, and start stealing his last hits, then you've got a Nasus who is useless by the end of the game, as opposed to one that is an absolute goddamn monster by the end of the game, if he's properly farmed at the top.

---!!!---
Nasus farms Attack Damage like Veigar farms Ability Power. His first melee, mana-cheap skill, Siphoning Strike, reads as follows: Siphoning Strike permanently gains 3 stacked damage whenever it kills an enemy champion, minion or neutral monster. So the idea is the same as Veigar, to get a ton of last hits.
---!!!---

There are reasons why this exists; there are reasons why the metagame exists in a game of 15 million accounts - it works, and that is why you adhere to it. It's not as if it is stifling your choice down to one hero; there are always viable choices, there are loads of heroes in League of Legends. If you are told to pick an AD carry, there are a bunch of different choices you can go for. If you are told to pick support, there are a bunch of choices. Jungler. Solo top. Mid. All of these have choices, and most people will not condemn you for choosing differently as long as you fit within the role, even if you hero isn't perhaps as powerful.

If they ask you to go Caitlyn bottom lane, and you decide that you want to take Urgot, well alright, at least you've taken an AD carry of some sort. At least you're fitting the role; I'm alright with that. If they ask you to take Soraka and you take Karma, okay, fine, at least you've taken a support. As long as you play her right, not really a problem, and at least you've got choices then.

But it's when you decide to completely screw up a team composition just because, oh, "I wanna have fun, I wanna play this hero"; if you want to play that hero, then go play with your friends in a game where they will accept you playing that hero. Do not inflict that on random people. They do not deserve that.

Especially since League of Legends drags on for a very long time. Why do you think people get so angry with LoL? LoL drags on forever. I mean, good luck getting a surrender on 20 minutes. The average pub team will not surrender on 20 minutes, no matter how badly things are going, either because they believe they can turn it around, or because they're like "well we've got this far, and I've got these items, so I don't care if I win, I'm just going to keep try to get kills, that's great; repeatedly dying, playing support, and I can't do a damn thing, because our team just can't win a team fight". Once again, because of the strength of towers and the way League of Legends works, the game can drag on for quite some time beyond that.

That's a bit of a problem, and that doesn't happen in other games. The only games in which this happens are MOBA - HoN, DotA, DotA 2, LoL - those are the games in which this can happen. This is why people get frustrated, and this is why team compositions are specific in these games. That is why knowing these things is a good idea.

It is not quite as extreme as, say, World of Warcraft, where if you go into a dungeon without a healer and take two tanks instead, chances are you're not going to survive, but that is the closest example I can think of. You have to play the role in the set composition, if not nobody gets anywhere.

It's not just about having fun - oh it doesn't matter if we lost guys, we had fun right - no, getting steamrolled for 30-40 minutes is not fun. A close fight is fun. There will not be a close fight unless the team is properly composed. Otherwise, it will be a whitewash, and games like League of Legends tend to snowball in that regard. If the other team has 20 kills and you have 2, don't expect to go into some sudden amazing comeback. What is going to happen is that those heavily farmed heroes in the other team are going to destroy you even more now, and basically you do not have a chance in hell.

And that is why individual fun is not as important, and indeed it is vital to understand that you must play as a team for individual fun to even occur for the majority of your team.

My Take

In a professional match, this is no problem. Everyone has their role, cast in stone. If the captain goes all 5 mid and end by 15 minutes then you can be sure it has been practiced before, and it can work.

Among friends, this is less of a problem as well. I play with friends enough that I understand the roles everyone is used to and what everyone generally plays, and usually it works out well.

In a pub game, hell may break loose when you have like 4 carries, or 3 junglers, or no solo mid, or some other funky combination that MAY be able to win but is definitely not the most reliable set-up.

I won't actually say anything about having your fun versus utilitarianism, but this is one pertinent reason why I believe that MOBA games are best played with friends, as a team. Among pubs, there is little understanding.

In a 25 man World of Warcraft raid, the template for raid composition is 1-3 tanks, 6-9 healers, and the rest DPS. You can be 1T18D6H or 3T13D9H depending on encounter, but the variation stops there. Unless your gear and level outstrips the dungeon, a radical composition will fail, period.

Yes, I have seen a 40 man Priest-only raid on Ragnaros when the level cap was still 60. That's what guilds and solid planning are for.

MOBA games are more flexible. In DotA, 5 INT heroes can completely dominate early game with a good mix of nukes and stuns and ganks if everyone knows what they are doing. In LoL, most any mix of heroes stand a good chance against at the public, low-level scene.

If you want to rise to the middle/upper levels of play, go get some friends and do it. Compose your team, do funky stuff, and have fun when it works and also when it doesn't. If you want to have a fighting chance with pubs, then I suggest you stick within the metagame for the best chance.

five hundred and eighty one

2011-10-26T22:42:00.003+08:00

While the thought of guard duty on Hari Raya Haji, also a Sunday, is not particularly pleasant, the thought of getting off makes well up for it.

Posting these days becomes based on weekends. Something interesting needs to happen on a weekend for something to come up here. This Saturday should provide ample content.

five hundred and eighty

2011-10-22T23:09:00.000+08:00

Thanks for the pizza Sam :).

five hundred and seventy nine

2011-10-20T22:01:00.005+08:00

There's a visitor in the house...

---

Awesome interface and graphics, but better is the functionality - matchmaking, region selection, gold graphs...

Second video here is a focus on the spectator mode. AI controlled camera mode anyone?! Spectator mode that reveals keyboard and mouse clicks?!

Grandmaster match below.

26:15 fissure block
37:10 force staff, laser, rocket
39:10 roshan
42:00 roshan 2
55:00 mid 3rd tower
1:02:35 top 3rd tower, end

---

They call it the System. It has no face, but its swarm of worshippers pervade every aspect of you. It seeks to wear you down, to eradicate your sense of self-worth, to destroy your individuality, to make you but a product from the mould, one of its faceless legion, a cog in its mechanical onslaught. And if it doesn't make you sick at heart, if you don't stop asking why, if you don't stop seeing yourself apart, if you seek only to affirm and consent to it, then you have become naught, but a slave to the system.

- a farewell email from someone in an adjacent Office who ORDs tomorrow

five hundred and seventy eight

2011-10-12T16:37:00.001+08:00

There's a difference between the two rounds you run every morning as a trainee, and the three or four rounds you run every other day as a permastaff. The feeling is completely different.

I feel pretty useless in the Office. Until there's an actual tasking for me, there's naught else to do but the ad hoc (aka handyman).

For example, today I:

Ran a few rounds
Managed to get a computer to project on both a screen and the monitor
Learned how to extend my desktop by using two monitors
Failed to find the room number on a door
Read about how a leaping antelope took down a cyclist in South Africa
Drafted a speech
Failed to get the printer to print the speech
Moved a PA system from A to B
Read about how zombies were hurt in a Resident Evil film set accident
Got immunized against something (needles!)

Which is perfectly suited for a signal-trained specialist to do, don't you think...

Never mind, I have faith that the workload will come soon.

Soon.

five hundred and seventy seven

2011-10-08T23:54:00.004+08:00

A different sort of outing...

Fun filters...

Infinite webcam loop...

Observing the london-singapore window scenery...

Group shot...

Because the Internet makes it possible.

five hundred and seventy six

2011-10-05T22:36:00.007+08:00

Song begins at 2:00.

Love of mine
Someday you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the Dark

No blinding light
Or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the "no"s
On their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you
Into the Dark

I will follow you
Into the Dark

I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab for Cutie (cover by Kurt Hugo Schneider)

---

I believe that for a short time now, there has been something new in my daily routine. It is called the Office.

The Office is different from the Camp, even though they are geographically consistent. The good thing about the Office is that it is far less exciting, far less physical, far less tense. However, it must be established that what I miss, to some degree, about the Camp was that it was far more exciting, far more physical, and far more tense.

The Office has made me wonder what the Camp was for. While others move from Camp to Camp, by some roll of the dice I moved to the Office, and it shall be my residence for a long time to come.

I will not apologize for missing the Camp, a bit.

At the same time, the Office is a constant reminder to me to count my blessings, and not to seek the Camp, lest I find it.

A little, non-representative taste of the Office below.

five hundred and seventy five

2011-10-02T18:03:00.003+08:00

five hundred and seventy four

2011-09-29T20:26:00.004+08:00

And who do you think you are?
Running round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Who do you think you are?

Jar of Hearts - Sam Tsui

I was thinking 'bout you
Thinking 'bout me
Thinking 'bout us
What we gonna be?
Open my eyes
It was only just a dream

So I travelled back
Down that road
Will you come back?
No one knows
I realize
It was only just a dream

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up
If you ever loved somebody put your hands up
And now they're gone and you're wishing
You could give them everything

Just a Dream - Sam Tsui & Christina Grimmie

---

five hundred and seventy three

2011-09-26T21:54:00.004+08:00

Pride is where you find it. Contentment is where you find it.

The optimist's creed.

I can hardly complain. This is a good life. But give it a week, a month, or a year, and maybe pride and contentment might find me.

five hundred and seventy two

2011-09-25T21:54:00.003+08:00

Cafe Cartel doesn't give free flow of bread anymore TT. Must bear this in mind when considering it as an eatery in the future tsk tsk.

Happy birthday to our September guys :).

five hundred and seventy one

2011-09-24T00:42:00.008+08:00

POP LOH, again.

4 months as a recruit, 5 months as a specialist cadet.

It's been a long time since my BMT sergeants kept using the phrase commanders-to-be to scold us. It's been many months since then, and finally it's time to pass out with their rank.

In BMT, life really sucked. I made friends through those tough Taurus times.

In BMT, being a commander seemed like the life to have, what with the narrow exposure we had to army. I didn't expect to pass my IPPT. Somehow, it happened, two weeks before graduating. Then I got posted as a specialist cadet.

In SCS for foundation term, a new breed of people appeared: enciks. Let's just call their styles unique. They changed my view of the SAF pretty wholesomely.

In SCS, I didn't really enjoy myself. But I made some good friends, had some good times.

In Signals Institute, I had the opportunity to exploit my forte. Life there was fun, and the friends there were awesome. If there was something I had been meant to do in the army, this was it - band aside.

In Signals Institue, again, I don't know how it happened, but I got my Silver.

Back in SCS for CAT term and the graduation parade. I wouldn't recognize the person I was those nine and a half months ago.

Parade parade parade. Then the rank. Thanks to everyone who came down, especially parents, sergeants, school friends (didn't see you Ben Aw :/) and SCS buddy Him Kee :).

Thanks 02/11 IC2 Specs, for making my time at SI so awesome :)!

Got to shake hands with the Chief of Army too :O.

So, 3SG. New rank, new roles, new responsibilities.

---

five hundred and seventy

2011-09-17T23:11:00.000+08:00

On the first day of CAT term, on our first march as a syndicate, we marched past the old Golf company storeman. My BSLC coy storeman.

His expression was of dazed wonder as he walked straight down the pavement towards the gate. His right hand was pressed against his chest, and resplendent in it, for everyone to see, was a pink IC.

Saying ORD is always in the language of the universe.

Am currently down with the flu. Hope it clears up before the parade.

5 more working days till graduation. 5 days till 3SG rank, then beyond to a new posting.

five hundred and sixty nine

2011-09-12T20:03:00.001+08:00

Massive, MASSIVE gap in putting out a post this time because of how hectic yet strangely fulfilling this weekend has been. This one can be slightly longer then.

For me, our course at SI is at an end. I realize that of BMT, SCS, and SI so far, the best friends I've made are here in SI, in this signal specialist course. Will definitely miss 02/11 IC2 Specs, as we split up at this crossroads. Even as we will get our cheverons in two weeks time, we get our independence in our new "jobs", but also the loneliness and isolation of being in charge. So it's always nice to have each other to count on, even apart.

So thanks to my platoon, for making my experience at SI something special.

Graduation ceremony on Friday, certs and awards given out, but most importantly POSTING. What sucked was that the postings are only almost nearly confirmed, but not 100% confirmed, so one or two of us can prepare for a surprise.

As for me? Let's just say if nothing changes, SI will be my second home.

Saturday was the band reunion cum farewell party. Thanks to everyone who came down for the little party, I had a great time and I hope you did too :).

But before the party there was a little pre-party...

... aka Forced Prep.

At about seven commenced the actual dinner itself. No organized activity; I think just being able to see each other and catch up was sufficient occupation for the entire duration of the night and more.

It's scary how you chat and realize how you never knew the lives of others progressed while you weren't there to watch.

And the highlight of the pictures shall be the group photos, courtesy Jerald.

Once again, let me reiterate that it was awesome having RJCSB 2009 over. Our band days may be far behind us, but friendship lasts beyond.

Post party sleepover pictures are not glam enough for this blog. Just know that a McDonald's breakfast after a night of fun is awesome :).

So that's Friday and Saturday done. Sunday didn't last long; it was kinda filled with a lot of this:

The motion blurring effects in Dragon Nest are very nice though:

The ungodly hours of Monday shall be included in this post because I took the nearly last train of Sunday to Changi Airport rather than spend $50 on a cab at 4 am Monday morning. Why, you might ask?

(not the $50 cab versus the MRT, that's pretty obvious)

But because...

Fare thee well, Eric. I've written enough; just know that true friendship is beyond borders or physical distance, beyond the dulling of time, beyond the winds of change. The very best to you as you study Medicine in UK (perhaps I might join you in a couple of years!), and train to be a great doctor.

I know you're not the emo guy I am, but still, I'm obliged to put out a few quotes.

Sometimes goodbye, though it hurts in your heart, is the only way for destiny. - S Club

Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good. - Wicked

So remember, goodbye doesn't mean forever. Let me tell you, goodbye doesn't mean we'll never be together again. - Bread

So yep, that was my weekend. Thank goodness for Monday and Tuesday off.

five hundred and sixty eight

2011-09-04T21:17:00.008+08:00

And today shalt be calleth the Army One Eighth Slow Jog.

When the whistle blew, it was mostly watching the front people amble off as those behind took small steps to try to reach the start line.

five hundred and sixty seven

2011-08-31T21:38:00.004+08:00

The meaning of your life is the difference you make
When you pass on into the void
(heaven, hell, and your magical fantasy afterlife included)
Part of you lives on in others
It manifests in the things they do because of you
And when you've just got to be with them
It's called love, and you are blessed to have it
And them because of you

Perhaps your life has no meaning
Maybe that's true
But your life is as much as you make it out to be
There's meaning if you say there is
Hopefully, as your life flashes before your eyes, you can find some
Before you fall into the precipice
At least that's what I like to think
In my little space of a dreamer

---

Following successful seasons in Melbourne and Sydney, an Australian tour began at the QPAC Lyric Theatre in Brisbane. After a two week delay due to the Queensland floods, performances began January 25, 2011, and ran until April 2. The touring production then moved to the Festival Centre in Adelaide, running from April 14 until June 4, 2011, and currently plays its final leg at the Burswood Theatre in Perth, after starting on June 19, 2011. The cast includes Sydney alumi Lucy Durack as Glinda, Jemma Rix as Elphaba, Maggie Kirkpatrick as Madame Morrible, Bert Newton as the Wizard, Elisa Colla as Nessarose, Rodney Dobson as Doctor Dillamond and James D. Smith as Boq while Wicked newcomer David Harris plays Fiyero.

The Perth engagement will finish on September 11, 2011, wrapping up more than 3 years of performances in Australia. This production will then transfer to Singapore's Grand Theater in Marina Bay Sands, running December 7, 2011 through January 29, 2012, beginning an open-ended Asian tour. Jemma Rix has been confirmed to be starring as Elphaba, while Australian understudy Suzie Mathers will play Glinda. Other confirmed destinations include Seoul and Taipei. The tour is set for an engagement in New Zealand by 2013.

- Wikipedia, on WICKED THE MUSICAL

five hundred and sixty six

2011-08-30T20:06:00.004+08:00

*writer's block*

Que sera sera.
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera sera.
What will be, will be.

five hundred and sixty five

2011-08-29T21:57:00.002+08:00

"Regent Lord," she repeated as the other two leaders dismounted. "And Shadow Hunter Vol'jin, and Dark Lady Sylvanas. Thank you all for coming."

"Lady Jaina Proudmoore. It is good to see you in person at last." Lor'themar's blue eyes flashed as he took in Jaina and her bodyguard.

Vol'jin stepped forward. "Thrall be sendin his regards, Lady Jaina. An' on behalf of da Darkspear, old Vol'jin give his too."

"Lady Proudmoore." Sylvanas gave no other greeting, her black cloak rippling slightly in the breeze. Her sheathed bow gave an indication of the tenuous trust that existed between Jaina and her, a gesture that she rarely accorded anyone. Davion, Jaina noted, had also holstered his war hammer, in acknowledgement of this good faith.

"Thank you all for coming. I take it that Thrall has other pressing matters?"

"Indeed he does, Lady Jaina. As you know, da spirits be in turmoil, and da earth be needin his attention. Right now he be in da Outlands, hopin to seek a cure for our world."

"Though Warchief Thrall is otherwise engaged," Lor'themar said, "he has asked the three of us to come here in his stead. Hopefully, we can find a resolution to the strange goings-on that have been occurring lately."

"It seems like more has been going on that I have heard. Enough to warrant all your presences here." Jaina's brow furrowed. "Perhaps you would like to enlighten me on the happenings in the Horde."

Sylvanas spoke. "A week and a half ago, a team of undead assassins made their way into the Undercity. They made it to the Apothecary Quarter, where they launched their attack on the apothecaries there. Fortunately, I so happened to be a minute away."

Her yellow eyes burned into Jaina's vision. "They killed two of our master apothecaries, and injured another before they were slain. One of them, a mage, managed to teleport out of the Undercity before we got him. Some five days later, a bounty hunter by the name of Huk Stormchaser managed to hunt him down and apprehend him, and brought him back to our dungeons, where he has undergone... some interrogation."

"The same thing happened a few days ago in Silvermoon," said Lor'themar. "A group of five managed to infiltrate the city and enter the Farstrider's quarters." He grimaced. "As much as I am loath to admit, it was a massacre. Eleven of our hunters lie dead, and nearly twice the number wounded. Nor were we able to take any of the group alive. The curious thing is this; all five were blood elves."

Sylvanas nodded. "Just as the four who invaded the Undercity were undead."

"And the six who sneaked into Stormwind were human."

---

It's been a very tiring week last week. Haven't had the chance to post, and when the weekend came I just burnt it all straight.

five hundred and sixty four

2011-08-22T19:34:00.006+08:00

Problems enough to call the Horde to join the party too.

The cobbling clop of hooves stirred her from her musings. She looked up, and on the ridge above a horse trotted into sight, its rider already dismounting.

The man made his way down the rocky path to the flat outcropping she had chosen. The golden tracery on his steel plate armour glinted as it constantly angled against the orange light - it went well with his shock of blonde hair, Jaina thought. She noticed that while his short sword was still sheathed at his waist, his hammer was in his hands.

He approached her. "Lady Proudmoore. They approach from the north."

Jaina nodded. "Thank you, Davion. The hammer...?"

"Milady, you said you were expecting the shaman Thrall and the Lady Windrunner. However, I count three flying mounts headed our way." He gripped the large, twin-headed hammer harder. "Should we worry?"

Jaina considered. "Not immediately. Thrall may have brought an advisor, or even one of the other Horde leaders. Perhaps the affair at hand is more serious than I had expected." She turned towards the North, where three black specks had materalized out of the blue. "I do not believe Thrall would bring more people with him with the intention to harm me."

"Then I shall give the signal."

Davion raised his hammer above his head in a two-handed grip. He closed his eyes. A glow started to form around him, gentle and sourceless. It was a different light from that which the sun cast upon them. This light was whiter and more pure, and Jaina felt the faint touch of a divine presence.

Then Davion opened his eyes and the light amplified with a brilliant flash, sending a pillar of holy light up into the air, illuminating the area with a coat of white. The light was strong, yet did not burn Jaina's eyes despite its intensity. It lasted a split second, then vanished as the paladin lowered his weapon.

The three specks grew larger as they angled themselves towards the outcropping. As they approached, Jaina noticed that the three winged steeds were different.

The first was a wyvern, a chimeric blend of lion, bat, and scorpion. Seated on top of it was a male troll, decked in an assortment of accessories that his race favoured. On his back was a frame of wood and bones, adorned with a weaving of cloth and feathers and painted with various symbols of voodoo magic. Stuck at various places were skulls and tusks, plausibly trophies from various kills, and a large ornamented longbow poked out of its quiver. Though Jaina had little experience in reading troll faces, the wisdom and determination that burned in his eyes was apparent even to her.

Vol'jin, the Shadow Hunter. Leader of the Darkspear Tribe, and hence leader of the trolls of the Horde. A wise and cunning leader by all accounts, dedicated to his people, and a brother to Thrall... but where was Thrall?

The second was a giant bat. On top rode a familiar figure; Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner. Former living high elf, then incorporeal banshee, now an undead back in her old body, Sylvanas was haughty and dangerous to behold. Her skin was a pale grey, and her eyes glowed a milky yellow under her dark hood. She, like Vol'jin, also carried a bow, reminding Jaina that whether living or dead, Sylvanas Windrunner was one of the most deadly rangers in existence.

The third was a dragonhawk, one of the fiery creatures that blood elves favoured. As its rider swung a leg over its back and stepped down onto the ground, she scrutinized his noble features, his red-gold battle armour, and his large broadsword...

"Regent Lord Lor'themar Theron," Jaina breathed. This was the first time she had seen the current leader of the blood elves. He cut a stunning figure, long golden hair flashing as he inclined his head in acknowledgement. His eyes were a neutral blue, the only blue on his entire body. Much unlike the previous leader, whose eyes had been a brilliant green -

- no, she would not go there. If anything, she was ashamed that she had ever been his friend. He had lusted after power, succumed to demonic taint, and betrayed his people. Quite the opposite of the blood elf who stood before her, if reputations were to be trusted. She returned her attention to the present.

"Regent Lord," she repeated as the other two leaders dismounted. "And Shadow Hunter Vol'jin, and Dark Lady Sylvanas. Thank you all for coming."

---

Having a chance to prove yourself is overrated. You prove yourself, every day and every hour, to the people around you with the things you do.

five hundred and sixty three

2011-08-21T20:27:00.004+08:00

The sky tonight was truly an artist’s palette of colour. The setting sun splashed streaks of golden and red across the deepening dark of the evening sky, hues of purple sealing the join between the reds and the blues. The moon, a blazing white in the ebon-blue shades of evening, was out early tonight, and already starting to cast its gentle sheen on the land even as the sun sunk into the horizon. Even Elwynn Forest in the valley below had its own contribution to the display; the forest seemed to add tinges of green to wherever it touched the blue of the sky, completing the visual tapestry.

Lady Jaina Proudmoore exhaled a satisfied sigh as she gazed across the land. As much as magic could do – as much as she herself, one of Azeroth’s most powerful mages, could do – it could never replicate the beauty that nature constantly bestowed upon itself. She could certainly produce lights and glows, in as many colours as needed; she could shape them and mould them in myriad ways, but never would she be able to recreate the splendour laid out before her now.

A humble reminder then, that the powers of the mortal races of the world, though many and great, were insignificant compared to the natural powers of the universe. No man, she thought, should ever try to establish himself against and above nature itself. Trying to cheat the limits of one’s own mortal existence would only ever end in misery.

In a way, many people understood this, especially the druids, shaman, and hunters – those more in tune with nature than others. Certain other races also possessed in their cultures an inherent respect for the authority of the natural order, and perhaps given time, the human race would learn to do the same.

Jaina turned from the view, and walked back along the outcropping to a pile of rocks on which she had left her folio of notes. She picked it up with a frown.

Some people worked with the natural forces of this world, and in return those forces lent them power, to champion their causes. Some drew strength from holy deities, whom nature herself accorded with respect. Some, like Jaina herself, tapped into the magic of this world and other planes, which nature permitted so long as it caused her no harm.

A few, however, tapped into dark powers, powers that had somehow crept into the world. They drew on these malevolent beings to deceive and destroy, to further their own, selfish ends. In doing so, they unwittingly worked for the purpose of a greater evil, often to bring about the end of this world.

In her short life, she and others had fought against monstrous powers like the Old Gods, the Burning Legion and the Lich King. Thankfully the world’s defenders had been always able to stop them, though not without great sacrifice.

Yet time and again, evil would rear its ugly head. Lesser, more petty evils, but they were pertinent problems nonetheless, like thorns in her flesh. Problems bad enough to warrant meetings between the leaders of the Alliance.

Problems enough to call the Horde to join the party too.

---

I dunno why, but playing WoW again isn't as exciting as it used to be.

Must be because its a private server and I'm like level 6.

https://www.molten-wow.com/

five hundred and sixty two

2011-08-20T11:10:00.006+08:00

You know what? Screw

defaulter's parade

1206es

confinements

because

WICKED

THE

MUSICAL

IS COMING

TO

SINGAPORE

/heartflutter

https://entertainment.marinabaysands.com/Booking/SeatAvail.aspx?EventInfoID=4947

five hundred and sixty one

2011-08-18T16:33:00.006+08:00

The puddle drained straight into the floor, and the cobblestones cracked and broke as a flurry of vines and roots emerged from the earth. They curled around the mage's wrists and feet, binding him tight in place.

A look a shocked outrage flashed across Maser's face. He snarled out a word of power, and from his palms shone beams of pure arcane energy. They scythed through the brambles holding him in down, like hot pokers through so much butter, and it was all of three seconds before he was free again.

But Huk was already moving, crossing the distance between them in two leaping bounds, twirling his staff over his head. There was a blur, then a crack! as the oak staff impacted against Maser's temple. The undead mage swayed, twin beams petering out of existence, took a step back and collapsed in a heap.

A grunt of satisfaction escaped the tauren's lips. More vines rose from the earth below to bind the mage, trussing him up like a prize pig.

Huk picked up the two halves of the large bracer that had bound Maser's summoned water elemental and placed them around the mage's bound wrists. The two halves met at the join, and the bracer magically sealed itself. Even if the mage woke on the trip back to the Undercity, he wouldn't be able to use his magic, thanks to the enchantments emplaced inside the golden shackle.

A minute later, the chamber was empty, and silhouetted against the setting moon was the shadow of an oversized great horned owl, carrying something in its curled claws.

---

My course is reaching its end soon. 24km is down, not without much effort.

Still, it's quite boring here sometimes. Hence the Warcraft fanfic that's been popping up. That was Chapter One so far, and the plot was just thought up as I went. Works for a simple battle scene, not for anything involving a storyline - assuming I continue on.

five hundred and sixty

2011-08-16T19:46:00.007+08:00

"I accept this duel, undead one." His smile broadened. "Fight me, and know that it was Huk of the Stormchasers that brought you down!”

A roaring plume of flame leapt at him. Huk stood his ground, and a thin veil of moonlight encased him, like a cloak of mist. The fireball splashed against his chest, dissipating without seeming to do him harm.

Maser waved his clawed hands, and the burning tracery beneath him turned to lines of frost. He then brought his hands down and together, and a frigid burst of ice and wind struck Huk from above. Huk staggered, but quickly channelled the Earthmother's power through his body. The freezing feeling vanished, and he directed the energies into his staff, from which a swarm of thorns and leaves erupted, stabbing and slicing at Maser's exposed skin and bones. The undead mage countered by summoning more ice and snow, which whirled around him, deflecting the thorny assault.

They continued to exchange blows, and soon the chamber was a riot of elemental chaos. Maser summoned fire, ice, and arcane lightning, which Huk countered with druidic powers drawn from the Earth or the moonlight, manifesting as bolts and shields of glowing energy. As they duelled, they circled one another, moving slowly around the perimeter of the room.

Then there was a flash, and a hum of power caused a wave of dust to be swept outwards from where the mage was standing. Where there had been one Maser there now were three, standing a few feet apart. Each began casting a spell, all three chanting in sibilant rhythm.

Huk did not hesitate, dropping to all fours and charging as he invoked another of the druidic powers. His body swelled, clothes becoming part of his now even-hairier hide as his hands and legs transformed into paws, and his face twisted into a feral snarl. Only his horns remained unchanged, save for the runes, which now were glowing the pale blue of the moon.

The three Masers cast at the same time, and the bear-form druid was met with a barrage of fire, ice and lightning mid-charge. A wave of pain spread through Huk's body as he was burned, frozen, and electrocuted at the same time. Still, he ploughed on through.

It was a second before Maser saw - through the haze of magic - that his attack had not in the least bit diminished the momentum of the hulking mass headed straight at him, and that he was about to be flattened by the druid. In surprise, the mage made his mistake.

One of the Masers took an involuntary step to the side.

A paw lashed out, and the real Maser was sent sprawling. He tumbled across the floor, and came to rest in a puddle of water.

A puddle that seemed rather out of place in the dusty chamber.

Huk saw his opening. He rapidly reverted back to his tauren form, calling upon the energies of the Earth once more, gathering them in his towering frame and suffusing the chamber with a strong minty aroma and a green illumination. As Maser started to get back up, he unleashed this energy.

Not directly at Maser, which was what the mage had expected, as his rapid conjuration of a purple arcane barrier between them evidenced. Huk streamed the life energies into the ground and forwards, then back upwards to the spot where the mage stood.

A druid's powers are constrained by the simple laws of nature. For plants to grow, a mere infusion of energy is not sufficient. Even the hardiest of creepers, growing in the daily gloom of an enclosed space needs at least one other element to mature and grow tall.

Water.

The puddle drained straight into the floor, and the cobblestones cracked and broke as a flurry of vines and roots emerged from the earth. They curled around the mage's wrists and feet, binding him tight in place.

five hundred and fifty nine

2011-08-14T20:13:00.011+08:00

His cowl had fallen back; the ragged flesh of his face was not enough to conceal the grey bone of his cheek and jaw poking through. His eyes, an unnatural yellow, further marked him as someone who had lived and died and been resurrected by foul necromancy.

"You've got persistence. I'll give you that," the undead rasped.

"You flatter me," the tauren rumbled. "One would think that after being chased for so long, you would tire and surrender peacefully. This merry goose chase... proves otherwise."

The undead smirked, and gestured at the tauren's large, rune-scribed horns. "Rather, it is I who should be flattered, that my hunter should be none other than one from the mighty Stormchaser clan." He looked the tauren up and down, appraising his earth-brown garments and simple wooden staff. A cynical smile formed on his torn mouth. "To what do I owe the honour, druid of the Stormchasers?"

The tauren took a step forward, into the pool of moonlight that shone through a broken window. "We know all about you, Maser. In life you were a servant of the Twilight's Hammer, that thrice-damned cult bent upon bringing the end of our world. You were but a mediocre mage, sent to support their rabble of infantry as they tried to take portions of Kalimdor for the purposes of their leaders. In your final mission, the Twilight's Hammer fought the world's defenders on Mount Hyjal, and on the slopes of the mountain, they were at last defeated."

Maser narrowed his eyes. "There I died."

"Yet a week ago, you were part of an elite team sent to infiltrate the Undercity. Through the shadows of the sewers the lot of you managed to enter the Apothecary Quarter, before you were discovered." The tauren shook his dark brown mane, studying Maser. "Though the rest of your team is dead, your mission was not without some success, for two of the Forsaken's master apothecaries lie in pieces now. Obviously, someone raised you back to undeath, and for no small purpose, it seems. And we want to know who, and why."

A thud echoed through the dusty chamber as he planted the base of his staff on the floor. "So I've come to take you in."

Maser threw back his head and laughed. The laugher seemed hollow, yet the undead mage continued chuckling even as he removed a polished grey stone from within his shabby robe. Inscribed on the stone was another rune.

"Take me in? I have no intention of letting you. I've spent a good week trying to shake off your relentless pursuit; do you think none of that time was spent preparing for this confrontation? I had hoped not to expend myself just to evade you, but it seems like now I have no choice." Maser gripped the stone tight in his right hand as his eyes blazed a brilliant neon blue. "You will not find this former mage of Dalaran so easy to apprehend!"

The druid merely cocked his head, as if mildly amused. This seemed to puzzle Maser more than anything, and as the stone glowed a blinding white he raised his left hand, ready to cast a defensive spell at a moment's notice.

Still, he did nothing but lean more heavily on his staff.

A moment later, Maser's body flickered -

- and the light abruptly died. Maser looked down in amazement and confusion.

"The Earthmother abhors that which goes against the natural order. Rending time-space to displace yourself to another location..." The tauren shook his head, as if in admonishment. "An easy matter to channel the power of the Earth to stop any spatial distortions in a small area for a short time." He grinned. "This chamber, for instance?"

Maser spat. The stone dropped to the floor and shattered.

"That makes my problem so much simpler." He swept his hands and feet in a single fluid motion, and a spiderweb of fire traced out a complex circle of patterned runes on the floor beneath him. His clenched fists flickered into flame.

The tauren gripped his staff with both hands, and mimicked his opponent's stance. In an instant, the musty air of the stone chamber changed to the refreshing scent of mint. The oaken staff burst into life, an assortment of leaves and flowers blooming into existence across its length. His mane seemed to glow a pale silver in the moonlight.

"I accept this duel, undead one." His smile broadened. "Fight me, and know that it was Huk of the Stormchasers that brought you down!"

five hundred and fifty eight

2011-08-11T12:30:00.006+08:00

Prodding the wet patch on the floor with the end of his staff, the tauren gave a damp snort of satisfaction. He looked back up just in time to see a portion of the wall flare bright. What had merely looked like a few natural deformations on the hard stone surface he now saw to be a rune, carved onto the wall in a hasty script. The human rune for fire glowed a blazing red.

The tauren reacted instantly, with an agility that would seem unnatural - for one of his size and frame - to an ignorant observer. He lunged to the side just as the rune exploded outwards, a burst of flame scorching through the space which he had occupied a second ago to impact against the opposite wall. At the same time, the rogue mage stepped out from behind a broken pillar. His withered hands flourished in a sweeping arc, and a large amount of pillar debris leapt into the air and hurtled straight at the tauren.

Staff planted firmly on the floor, the tauren murmured a short plea to the Earthmother.

A huge updraft bloomed in the centre of the room. The rubble, just yards short of colliding with the tauren's face, changed direction at an alarming speed, and flew over his head instead. The mage was also caught in the hurricane force and thrown upwards at the ceiling, and would have broken every bone in his body had a prismatic shell of flowing colours not formed around him at the last second. The glowing armour protected him from injury, and it faded as he floated gently to the ground.

His cowl had fallen back; the ragged flesh of his face was not enough to conceal the grey bone of his cheek and jaw poking through. His eyes, an unnatural yellow, further marked him as someone who had lived and died and been resurrected by foul necromancy.

five hundred and fifty seven

2011-08-09T21:04:00.004+08:00

Happy National Day, and I'm out of camp :).

Long braids of brown hair whipped through the air as he spun around, the shaft of his wooden staff but a oaken blur as he brought it swinging up and around. The tip caught on a golden, gleaming bracer, and it cracked into two neat halves, each falling to the ground with audible clanks.

The towering mass of water that had just been about to engulf him suddenly teetered to its now-unbound side, as if abruptly unbalanced. It crashed to the ground, and the water that had given the elemental shape flowed into a sorry puddle on the stone floor. Last to lose form was its other hand, the magics of a second matching bracer allowing it to keep some consistency, until a cloven hoof stomped down and crushed the bracer into golden shards.

Prodding the wet patch on the floor with the end of his staff, the tauren gave a damp snort of satisfaction.

five hundred and fifty six

2011-08-07T19:11:00.003+08:00

ASLC people going Taiwan for three weeks now. Wishing them all the best, especially after the scare of heat injury.

five hundred and fifty five

2011-08-05T23:25:00.001+08:00

So I come out of army for the week and poof, there's another cat in the house.

Not sure if we want to keep it though :/... but giving it to SPCA would probably mean euthanasia. So, if anyone out there can keep a white male kitten, 5 weeks old and in good health (according to the vet), let me know.

On Tuesday an SCT passed away. I really don't know any insider information but it's just sad. And it hit quite close to all us SCTs in our pro term.

They had a safety timeout. Cooling-off day they called it. Small penance for a life.

---

Post number 555, and just past 14k visitors (visitors per day or hits, I never found out).

---

The metal shell broke open. He lowered his shaking hand, raised Draco's wand beneath the Cloak and murmured, "Lumos."

The black stone with its jagged crack running down the centre sat in the two halves of the Snitch. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand. The triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were still discernible.

And again, Harry understood, without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for he was about to join them. He was not really fetching them: they were fetching him.

He closed his eyes, and turned the stone over in his hand, three times.

He knew it had happened because he heard slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the Forest. He opened his eyes and looked around.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh, he could see that. They resembled most closely the Riddle that had escaped from the diary, so long ago, and he had been memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved towards him, and on each face there was the same loving smile.

James was exactly the same height as Harry. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died, and his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided, like Mr Weasley's.

Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than Harry had seen him in life. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

Lupin was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, scene of so many adolescent wanderings.

Lily's smile was widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew close to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily as though she would never be able to look at him enough.

"You've been so brave."

He could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.

"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are... so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had fallen from Harry's lips before he could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over," said Lupin.

"I didn't want you to die," Harry said. These words came without his volition. "Any of you. I'm sorry -"

He addressed Lupin more than any of them, beseeching him.

"- right after you'd had your son... Remus, I'm sorry -"

"I am sorry too," said Lupin. "Sorry I will never know him... but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the Forest lifted the hair at Harry's brow. He knew that they would not tell him to go, that it would have to be his decision.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," said James.

"They won't be able to see you?" asked Harry.

"We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else."

Harry looked at his mother.

"Stay close to me," he said quietly.

- excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

five hundred and fifty four

2011-08-01T21:10:00.009+08:00

The hilltop faded, and Harry stood in Dumbledore's office, and something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Snape was slumped forwards in a chair and Dumbledore was standing over him, looking grim. After a moment or two, Snape raised his face and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop.

"I thought... you were going... to keep her safe..."

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," said Dumbledore. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Snape's breathing was shallow.

"Her boy survives," said Dumbledore.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.

"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" bellowed Snape. "Gone... Dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish... I wish I were dead..."

"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him.

"What - what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone - "

" - the Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, "Very well. Very well. But never - never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear... especially Potter's son... I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist..."

- excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save," said Snape. He stood up. "You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter - "

"But this is touching, Severus," said Dumbledore seriously. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

"For him?" shouted Snape. "Expecto patronum!"

From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe: she landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.

"After all this time?"

"Always," said Snape.

- excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

---

Command philosophy.

Two words that have been popping up recently, in dialogues with OC and CO. If there's any time to think about such things, it is now, when life is still flowing by slowly and smoothly.

Leadership is a personal thing. I believe that leadership is inextricable from one's personality. What style may work for one person may work well, but that does not mean that everyone should adopt the same. Personal style is an important aspect that makes or breaks a certain brand of leadership.

For instance, I believe in natural leadership - rather, that there exists a quality called natural leadership. Some people are just better at leading naturally. This isn't something verifiable, because the influences of nature and nuture are impossible to isolate and segregate, but from what I've seen, certain qualities just simply make others more inclined to follow the person. Things like extroversion, for example. Or initiative. Perhaps even physical appearance. But this doesn't mean that people without these traits cannot be good leaders; just that they may have to adopt a different approach in handling situations.

There is a difference between command and leadership, though. The "army brand" of leadership - aka command - is perhaps unique among all brands of leadership. Most all guys have felt it firsthand, at least in BMT. It is many things. Harsh, effective, unyielding, structured, medeival, comprehensive, uncaring, compassionate. It can be a lot of things, in fact.

A commander is a leader, but a leader is not always a commander.

They keep saying that we are training to be junior commanders, or are commanders-to-be. But what if I don't want to be a commander? What if I want to be a leader instead?

That's why I think leadership has to be something personalized. Being merely a commander has no lure to me. I need something more.

I like to think that there are two kinds of respect. First there's respect for authority, then there's genuine respect. The first can be demanded, can be enforced, can be bullied out of others. The second is so damn hard to earn. But if you earn it, you're probably doing something right.

My problem with command is that it's all too easy to see the first, then forget that only the second is worth having.

Not a shepherd among sheep. You can't think of people as sheep. People aren't products of a cookie-cutter mould. People are just like you, like me. You could be them, if not for two months that determined two years. And they could have been you.

I won't know if the style I'm trying to craft here will work in the military till later on. It might be too weak, too easily taken advantage of. But I have faith in it.

Not a chessmaster. More of a steward, then. A caretaker. At the same time, a teacher, a friend, but still a leader.

five hundred and fifty three

2011-07-28T21:10:00.004+08:00

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets,
In midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles,
In laughter, in strife.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love? Measure in love

Seasons of love. Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,
Though the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love!
Remember the love!
Seasons of love!

Oh you got to got to
Remember the love!
You know that love is a gift from up above
Share love, give love, spread love
Measure, measure your life in love.

Seasons of Love - Rent

five hundred and fifty two

2011-07-23T15:47:00.007+08:00

The power lines went out
And I am all alone
But I don't really care at all
Not answering my phone
All the games you played
The promises you made
Gonna finish what you started
Only darkness still remains

Lost sight
Couldn't see
When it was you and me

Blow the candles out
Looks like a solo tonight
I'm beginning to see the light
Blow the candles out
Looks like a solo tonight
But I think I'll be alright

Candles - Hey Monday

It's hard to feel the rush
To push the dangerous
I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you
Where we can both fall over in love

I'm on the edge of glory
And I'm hanging on a moment of truth
Out on the edge of glory
And I'm hanging on a moment with you
I'm on the edge, the edge
The edge, the edge
The edge, the edge
The edge, the edge
I'm on the edge of glory
And I'm hanging on a moment with you
I'm on the edge with you

The Edge of Glory - Lady Gaga

Who says
Who says you're not perfect
Who says you're not worth it
Who says you're the only one that's hurting
Trust me
That's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty
Who says you're not beautiful
Who says

Who Says - Selena Gomez & The Scene

five hundred and fifty one

2011-07-20T21:05:00.000+08:00

I feel like the world is progressing around me, without me.

The people I know are doing lots of things. Graduating. From band. From school. Entering army. Signing on. ORDing. O-levels. A-levels. University. New house. New country. New friends. New life.

I never saw the world fly by the way it it's flying now. What are the constants that anchor us amongst this tide? I have a few, and they're solid.

five hundred and fifty

2011-07-16T23:58:00.001+08:00

Well I did only half of what I was supposed to do, but that made it a very enjoyable weekend still :). Thanks to Daniel for opening his place!

We only survived Harry Potters 5 (bad) and 6 (good) before succumbing to Kung Fu Panda which I was awake for only the first 45 minutes.

What's the best breakfast in the world?

... any breakfast that doesn't involve having to wake up at 5:15 and march to the cookhouse is automatically the best breakfast in the world. When that breakfast is a McBreakfast it becomes better.

The afternoon was spent in a weak daze, seeing that there were no seven hours of uninterrupted rest. But then there was dinner.

five hundred and forty nine

2011-07-13T19:36:00.000+08:00

Well HONESTLY I kinda forgot about this. It would happen, sooner or later.

Then I realize, I don't have an obligation to blog, do I. My blog goes at my pace, when I feel like putting out something interesting (not that I can put out any Army stuff; not that any of that's particularly notable anyway) then I do. Now that I have 3 hours to myself and Facebook blocked, blogging kinda came back to mind as I mentally ticked off the options.

I had a couple of pictures stored here from the weekend, for the purpose of in-camp blogging... but nowadays, really, there's nothing to take much of (not like I can touch my camera five days a week).

So, no motivation, no content, no pictures; not the best ambience for blogging. Will this die as many others have? Maybe. Maybe not.

No idea why this picture is here haha.

Anyway this weekend promises to be...

Fri 1800++ HOPEFULLY BOOKOUT
Fri 2100 - Sat 0900 Harry Potter movie marathon @ Daniel's
Sat 1000 - Sat after lunch Harry Potter 7.2 w Surya n Co.
Sat 1430 - Sat 1730 erm, RWinds?
Sat 1800 - Sat after dinner Class dinner
Sun after dinner - Sun before lunch Concuss at home
Sun 1200 - Sun bookin Presedential Garden Reception @ The Istana

... if nothing else, a photo opportunity. Nah it's more than that! Gonna see a lot of people I haven't seen in a while :).

The PGR thingy is just SK though.

HP 7.2 will be the end of an era... we grew up with them (sort of), and I want to watch 7.2 for closure. There is obligation there, too, and then again there isn't, like blogging.

In... here, you talk about duties, which are obligations, merely reinforced. I used to think that doing your duty was all important to everyone, and used to never like anyone who didn't pay their dues, but sooner or later the close-mindedness of that made me a bitch, at least in BMT, so yea, I'm trying to improve.

The most important obligations there are, though, are to family and friends, because without the obligation there, we drift.

When you make time for someone, not always does it come natural. That's okay; you don't have to like everyone everyday. We can have off days (or weeks, or months, but prefably not months!). Socializing isn't effortless; but nor does having to put in energy mean it the relationship is failing. What's important is making the effort... no. 1 problem for me to work on is being punctual.

Act one, adhere to that schedule up top.

five hundred and forty eight

2011-07-02T22:11:00.000+08:00

Everyday we're shuffling.

Find out what we're made of
When we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Just like all the seasons never stay the same
All around me I can feel a change

I will break these chains that bind me
Happiness will find me
Leave the past behind me
Today my life begins
A whole new world is waiting
It's mine for the taking
I know I can make it
Today my life begins

Today My Life Begins - Bruno Mars

---

In fairly recent news, one of the most played games on Steam (if not the top!), Team Fortress 2, is now downloadable for free. The company making it - Valve - is now relying solely on micro-transactions within the game to keep it running, but the point is that it's essentially free to play. It is NOT a precision shooter like the Call of Duty series but it's kinda fun in a spastic way.

five hundred and forty seven

2011-06-28T21:30:00.002+08:00

Let man's petty nations tear themselves apart
My land's only borders lie around my heart

Would I stay and would I dare?
Would you take your place with me?

Of what worth is what we do here if I won't stay?

five hundred and forty six

2011-06-25T13:28:00.009+08:00

Shinjiteru.

The Sun Will Rise Again was a good concert, and brought back lots of memories of A Tempo XX. Sigh... missing band life :X.

On life at Stagmont Camp:

"...it gives me great joy when you manage to start the generator!"

My new web camera has some strange things it can be set to. Testing testing one two three.

I only just realized... Highlights from "Chess" is probably a classic for bandies by now, and I never thought to actually YouTube out the actual musical songs - from Chess, obviously. Some of the nicer songs sound really good in their sung out versions.

five hundred and forty five

2011-06-20T20:13:00.002+08:00

I'm not unhappy.

I'm not unhappy.

I'm not unhappy.

I got posted to signals, for goodness' sakes. I'm in one of the best vocations. I don't have any weekend burnt (save one I think). Thrice a week we have some PT and a run; the rest of every day is spent on lectures. Our outfield is within the confines of the camp. The worst to come is but a long route march.

So why is it so sian here?

Anyway, I take back what I said previously. Still got to get an IPPT Silver or I will not pass out. Need 2 more pullups and 9 more cm on the jump.

The lectures are mildly interesting. Not my chosen field of study, but much can be learnt from them. This Cisco Certified Network Associate certification does sound like a useful thing to have in general.

I think I know why I'm not that happy. I'm thinking too much about all the other things I could be doing at home. Or outside in general. Or even with a stayout vocation. Hell, I thought I got over this after BMT. Boo hoo me.

I'm not unhappy rawr.

---

Game game game.

five hundred and forty four

2011-06-14T13:45:00.004+08:00

Glee finally sung my most favourite song of all time.

Love the change of key at 3:51. Now I can die happy.

---

Disney never gets old.

There's a page on Wikipedia titled the Disney Renaissance. It's a casually named era in which Disney produced all the fantastic films of my childhood: shows like The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, Aladdin, Hercules, Mulan. Very good productions, with awesome music. The Lion King yesterday reminded me why I love Disney music so much.

From the day we arrive on the planet
And, blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life

Circle of Life - The Lion King

Night
And the spirit of life
Calling

And a voice
With the fear of a child
Answers

Wait
There's no mountain too great
Hear the words and have faith
Have faith

He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
He lives in you

He Lives In You - The Lion King II

It's been a while since I actually typed out something more than say, a paragraph long.

BSLC is over, the certificate and graduation was all very nice, and true to my wishes, I don't think I'll need to see Pasir Laba again. Not that it was a bad camp, but staying there would mean... you know.

I'm being posted to the Signals Institute in Stagmont camp.

You know, one thing about being an RJ student before is that we were taught to try to be the best. In academics, understandably; in CCA as well; and it goes to the point that sometimes I just like to take the hard way for stuff.

So maybe I was disappointed for a tiny moment that I wasn't going ASLC - where it would be tough, but I would end up with the very least a Silver for IPPT and be more combat fit - but yeah, even typing that made me feel crazy. 'Twas the same feeling when I didn't get posted to OCS, but I soon wondered why I wanted to take the harsh road. Not like I ever would sign on.

I might even say that BSLC has softened me. Yeah, we are pushed to do longer route marches, more intensive field training, and handle new weapons and technology, but we are less being forced to do... things in general. This becomes especially evident during forced preparation and things like self-studying.

My point is that going to ASLC would have forced me to become fitter, more combat competent, and to really train up the natural leadership that I, well, lack. Going elsewhere will just accelerate this downward spiral.

Of course, regardless where one is posted, there is nearly always opportunity to go train up. The question is whether I will.

I suppose this is a little of what entering the world is like, where freedom to do everything also means the very real freedom to do nothing.

Not to sell SI short (especially since I'm judging based on hearsay), who knows, we might go there and have BMT all over again...

... likely?

ya think?

five hundred and forty three

2011-06-12T23:41:00.002+08:00

Speed through skill?

So, signals. At Stagmont Camp. Might be premature to say whether it's going to or not going to be a tough time there, but it is near my house (in fact it's probably the nearest one I possibly could have been posted to) and it's not ASLC.

Brought my entire cupboard back. Bloody heavy!

---

Food interlude.

---

So tonight I watched:

... with family. Was a good show; not as good as Les Mis or Cats or Phantom or even ABBA, but it's my first musical in a good long time. The music was great, the plot left wanting - but how much complexity can you coax out of a Disney title anyway?

On a related note, Marina Bay Sands is a good looking place. Not posh, but big-budgeted.

No bookin tonight! Training resumes on Wednesday.

five hundred and forty two

2011-06-09T21:13:00.001+08:00

If 24klick was bad, then 28klick was, well, bad. Thinking that 28 was just 4 more than 24 didn't make the 24 easy, even having doing it once before.

But whatever, it's over, and we have graduation to look forward to! Will be nice to finish BSLC and go wherever.

five hundred and forty one

2011-06-06T21:12:00.000+08:00

FOOOOOOD

Another thing to look forward to on weekends is good food. Preferably as the sauce to top off a good activity with good friends.

---

The word is impervious.

Whatever posting is to come next, I want to be impervious to it. I will take it into stride, accepting it as something that much can be learned from. It can't be changed - the system is immovable - and maybe, just maybe, it won't be a bad thing. I used to think that all things can be good if seen through an open mind. Maybe I'm more cynical now, but there is truth in that way of thinking.

Of course I can't help but wish for something other than a green beret right...

28km route march tomorrow... time to pull out the stops.

five hundred and forty

2011-06-02T16:04:00.002+08:00

2-chlorobenzalmalononitrile (C10H5ClN2) is the defining component of a "tear gas" commonly referred to as CS gas, which is used as a riot control agent. "CS gas" is actually an aerosol of a volatile solvent and 2-chlorobenzalmalononitrile, which is a solid compound at room temperature. CS gas is generally accepted as being non-lethal.

The chemical reacts with moisture on the skin and in the eyes, causing a burning sensation and the immediate forceful and uncontrollable shutting of the eyes. Effects usually include tears streaming from the eyes, coughing, running nose full of mucus, burning in the nose and throat areas, disorientation, dizziness and restricted breathing. It will also burn the skin where sweaty and or sunburned. In highly concentrated doses it can also induce severe coughing and vomiting. Almost all of the immediate effects wear off in a matter of minutes.

---

Unlikely to be ready by end June... July or September then.

---

Here's the group shot from the batch gathering! Credit Zhenyi

five hundred and thirty nine

2011-05-29T13:57:00.005+08:00

I didn't know what were cheverons till SCS, and the aptly named Cheverons Square.

All the high-key activities are over at last. Two more weeks, and that's the end of BSLC. And if I'm lucky, that would be the end of seeing Pasir Laba Camp too :/. But whatever bah... if tio then tank lor.

Que sera sera.

Feel good movies are my favourite kind :).

five hundred and thirty eight

2011-05-28T23:48:00.002+08:00

I read this book when I was young, and I loved it.

Saw it in Harris bookstore for over twenty dollars on Thursday nights out. It's a very short children's picture book... I wish I could put all the pictures here but I can't find them. The effect is lost somewhat without the pictures :(. But it's still a very touching, simple story: have a read.

Once there was a tree... and she loved a little boy.

And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king of the forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.

And the boy loved the tree... very much. And the tree was happy.

But time went by. And the boy grew older. And the tree was often alone. Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy."

"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy. "I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?"

"I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money, I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be happy." And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them away.

And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time... and the tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy."

"I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy. "I want a house to keep me warm. I want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house. Can you give me a house?"

"I have no house," said the tree. "The forest is my house, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy." And the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house.

And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time. And when he came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak. "Come, Boy," she whispered, "Come and play."

“I am too old and sad to play," said the boy. "I want a boat that can take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat?"

"Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said the tree. "Then you can sail away... and be happy." And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.

And the tree was happy...

... but not really.

And after a long time the boy came back again.

"I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you. My apples are gone."

"My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy.

"My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them.”

"I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy.

"My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb."

"I am too tired to climb," said the boy.

"I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something - but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump."

"I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."

"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did.

And the tree was happy.

The Giving Tree
by Shel Silverstein

five hundred and thirty seven

2011-05-24T22:16:00.004+08:00

It's already week six, and while camp is a second home, nothing beats ringing the doorbell and hearing the excited bark of welcome.

Of course, I write this from in camp, so I haven't had that in a few days. But just now I called my mum, and a minute into the conversation a flash of lightning lit up the bunk. Immediately, the phone erupted into barks. Over the abruptly triggered frenzy coming from the phone was my mum, telling me that the dog was (as per normal) off again, barking at the lightning.

It occurred to me then, that even while I continue on in camp here, and my mum's just a voice over the phone, that we aren't so far apart anyway... and home for me is just a ride away. Many aren't so lucky, to have home there when they need it.

I counted the seconds; about twenty five, so the lightning (still striking unrepentantly as I speak) is around eight klick away. Sound travels slowly; a fact reinforced in my head as the fire and smoke of the Matador and M203 Grenade Launcher rounds detonating on Sunday were followed only posthumously by delayed sound. Light, on the other hand, is brilliant; as it happens, so we see.

Ironic, though, that while it took a good portion of a minute for thunder to complete the lightning, it took barely a split second for my phone to emanate with barks. Light, in another form, is to be praised for this too. Funny how light is responsible too for the sound of my mum's voice to overtake the rumble of thunder.

There goes the lightning again. It's nearer this time.

While this post is going nowhere, I would just like to appreciate how wonderful my dog, and dogs in general, are. They eagerly sound off their joy at your arrival home; they are infinitely understanding of whatever problems you relate to them; they are most patient with you even when your attention lingers elsewhere.

They can tell when you're down; they can cheer you up; they can dry your tears. They revel in your triumphs; they are forever on your side; they stand up to strangers for you. They are sad when you ignore them; they forgive you when you stop; they require your presence to be happy.

They love you no matter what.

And - no insult intended, no offense offered - I just want to say that it never escaped my notice that I am blessed with parents who do all this too.

I'm still in the process of learning this, of remembering this every single day. Hopefully if you read this you're faster than me.

five hundred and thirty six

2011-05-21T23:58:00.001+08:00

NUS open houses for FOS and FASS respectively were pretty informative, and included a whole slew of freebies. I wonder how much of the budget went on the free Pringles/Ferrero Rocher/Mars Bars/Drinks for FOS, and the free waterbags/toiletries/notebooks/stress balls/pens for FASS.

Pool afterwards.

And then dinner at Cafe Cartel (+ Russell, Austin).

The only really worthwhile thing there is the ribs, for $11.80++... Cafe Cartel is in general overpriced. Still, it was very nice.

The ribs post mortem.

I took the bus home in a very sleepy, dazed state, but I swear I was awake when I heard the two guys behind me start playing Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock. From The Big Bang Theory.

Scissors cuts paper.
Paper covers rock.
Rock crushes lizard.
Lizard poisons Spock.
Spock smashes scissors.
Scissors decapitates lizard.
Lizard eats paper.
Paper disproves Spock.
Spock vapourizes rock.
And as it always has,
rock crushes scissors.

Sheldon Cooper - The Big Bang Theory S2E8

five hundred and thirty five

2011-05-16T21:01:00.000+08:00

Long weekend after a hard week.

All field camp has really taught me is that I do not want to go ASLC.

Section live firing was fun though. While an actual firefight will not realistically take place behind a rectangular array of ideal, bullet-absorbing cover, performing a fire and movement drill with real flying bullets would give anyone an adrenaline rush.

Food glorious food.

Been visiting and revisiting some games this extended weekend. Essentially I've been wasting my time in front of the computer ><.

five hundred and thirty four

2011-05-08T22:23:00.000+08:00

I've nothing new to take pictures of these days. ><

Ah, the weekend. It's becoming as routine as army, but in a far more enjoyable way. Once again, thanks guys :).

So, Thor. To enjoy it (which I did), three words: suspend your disbelief. Something I can do pretty well (barring Clash of the Titans).

I haven't been writing much, well, ever since entering army. It must have something to do with army itself - whether it's the lack of time, or lack of inspiration, army has been sucking so much energy out of me that most of the time I have at home I spend just doing nothing. Doing nothing itself is a rare commodity in army.

Well what is there else to life besides booking out, enjoying the weekend, and booking back in again?

five hundred and thirty three

2011-05-07T00:42:00.000+08:00

If only iron sight aiming was as good IRL as in Black Ops.

What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them?
What are words
If they're only for good times
Then they don't?
When it's love
Yeah, you say them out loud
Those words, they never go away
They live on, even when we're gone

What Are Words - Chris Medina

five hundred and thirty two

2011-05-01T18:49:00.005+08:00

I'm lying on my bed here now in camp, and I'm thinking of how I could be at home now, with Labour Day to enjoy, instead of doing a 24 hour guard duty.

They said that it's easy to kena extra duty in SCS. They weren't kidding.

Away with the self pity. At least now I'll probably never ever forget to put the ice in the icebox when it's my turn for duty. And now I know when it's my turn for duty.

---

He thinks that man is me
He knew him at a glance!
That stranger he has found
This man could be my chance!

Why should I save his hide?
Why should I right this wrong
When I have come so far
And struggled for so long?

If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silent, I am damned!

I am the master of hundreds of workers.
They all look to me.
How can I abandon them?
How would they live
If I am not free?

If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silent, I am damned!

Who am I?
Can I condemn this man to slavery
Pretend I do not feel his agony
This innocent who bears my face
Who goes to judgement in my place

Who am I?
Can I conceal myself for evermore?
Pretend I'm not the man I was before?
And must my name until I die
Be no more than an alibi?

Must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men?
How can I ever face myself again?
My soul belongs to God, I know
I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope when hope was gone
He gave me strength to journey on

Who am I? Who am I?
I am Jean Valjean!

And so Javert, you see it's true
That man bears no more guilt than you!
Who am I?
24601!

Who Am I - Les Miserables (Colm Wilkinson)

God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there

He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.

Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy

You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

Bring Him Home - Les Miserables (Colm Wilkinson)

five hundred and thirty one

2011-04-26T20:34:00.002+08:00

I need to pick up a hobby.

Like this blog, I need something to do here; something progressive. I need a project that I can work on on a fairly daily basis. Prefably it would not involve a computer. Something like folding origami (but I think that's boring) or writing or drawing. Something that involves making, creating something tangible.

Really need something to do here.

five hundred and thirty

2011-04-24T15:33:00.002+08:00

The reason why anyone looks forward to the weekends.

---

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, but if cats could sing...

... they'd hate it too."

---

five hundred and twenty nine

2011-04-21T23:10:00.001+08:00

I ran into an inclined pullup bar ><.

There's so much I think I can learn from SCS. And actually earn this rank.

five hundred and twenty eight

2011-04-19T21:57:00.002+08:00

WE ARE ALLOWED TO USE THIS KIND OF THING IN SCS?

Love this place.

five hundred and twenty seven

2011-04-17T23:20:00.003+08:00

Back to camp, now a different camp.

Apprehensive isn't the word, for a change. I hope SCS will be all my sergeants make it out to be.

five hundred and twenty six

2011-04-16T22:02:00.004+08:00

Comd SAF BMTC wishes you all the best in your future posting.
Your Posting Order is listed below:

And as block leave finally begins to reel to it's inevitable conclusion, we get our postings. I camped the computer yesterday until 10, while I was actually supposed to be meeting for badminton with class at, well, 10.

You are posted to SCS & WSAS.
Your vocation is INF LDR (TRAINEE).

So, Specialist Cadet School. I would become a sergeant, then.

It's not SAF band, my number #1 choice that allows me to pursue my passion for the instrument, bookout everyday, and in general lead a slack life. But I can't say I'm unhappy. Training to become a specialist isn't an opportunity that avails itself to everybody, and I find learning to become a commander a healthy challenge.

Leadership; I've had my try sometimes. How to lead effectively, though, is something I would really like to learn. I want to learn how to deal with people different from me, how to motivate people, and how to gain their trust and respect. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't require a slack life; I'd rather spend my time here in army doing something meaningful - even with as little meaning a person can make in the grand picture - and I think SCS does fit that bill.

And it sure beats man and OCS.

Your are to report to: Pasir Laba Camp, Blk 276, #02-15.
Reporting Date/Time: 8/04/2011 at 0800 - 0830 hrs.

Thank goodness it's nowhere nearly as far as White Sands. Still, this far edge of Singapore is one of the most deserted places there can be.

You are required to report in smart no.4 uniform (PES E recruits to be in No 3 uniform), except for those assigned to Police Force. Report to Pasir Laba Guardroom in Smart No 4 Uniform. No Camera Handphone, thumb-drives and MP3/MP4 are allowed. You are required to bring along your duffle bag/field pack complete with the SAF issued items given during BMT. You are expected to stay in.

Wish they specified how long.

Within the span of yesterday and today, I met up with class, army section, and band. Rocks to be able to meet up with so many people :).

five hundred and twenty five

2011-04-14T22:46:00.005+08:00

So, prawning. Never done that before, nor fishing of any sort, so my first judgement on it would be that fishing is a social sport. No fun to go alone. I don't think I would have the patience to sit there and watch the bobber if there was nobody to talk to.

Prawns are kinda cute.

Till they pinch.

five hundred and twenty four

2011-04-11T18:44:00.007+08:00

Well, my Call of Duty: Black Ops finally decided to work after the Steam admin personnel activated it manually for me. So I spend the entirety (and I really mean entirety) of the day playing the first 6 or 7 levels of the campaign, and enough of the multiplayer that I'm now level 21 ><.

The graphics are awesome, it's been so long since I played a new game with good graphics (as compared to what, DotA, League of Legends, and CounterStrike?). Although somehow I might just prefer Modern Warfare 2.

five hundred and twenty three

2011-04-09T14:36:00.009+08:00

POP LOHHHH!!!!

It was actually a rather tolerable 24km march - not exactly fun though - especially with people to talk to and a refreshing change of scenery, aka SINGAPORE MAINLAND. It took in total about 8 to 9 hours, and it was soon apparent that there was a lot of planning and logistics involved with all the pit stops.

I mapped it out using Google Earth, but it's probably a very inaccurate sketch because (1) I was marching mostly in a dazed state, like everyone else, thus (2) as such I cannot remember all of the turnings, and furthermore (3) there are CLOUDS obscuring the map at places, and finally (4) the Marina Bay floating platform seems to be MISSING. Anyway it works out to be approximately 24km, so I wouldn't say we were cheated of any distance :).

Anyway, we got there, waited a while, then the parade began. And ended, all too quickly. So that's that for BMT, just have to wait for vocation now, Friday 10am.

To my section, Taurus P2S2, thanks for being whoever you are. Let's just leave it like that.

POP LOHHHH!!!!

It should be made known and strongly emphasized that going for an outing - LAN plus dinner - after a 24km march in full battle order throughout the night and a parade in the morning is highly discouraged. And bad for health.

But who cares, it's been so long since so many of us were able to meet!

five hundred and twenty two

2011-04-03T19:29:00.003+08:00

So my parents called me from the UK to ask about the passing out parade next week (since I won't be seeing them until then) and I was moody and all because it's book in day so I was complaining that there was something wrong with the phone volume because it was really really soft and then when I hung up I noticed that I was holding the phone upside down.

Last book in to Tekong!

---

About all the drama going on... well I don't know which side to take.

I strongly object to petty, childish behaviour. There are over 200 more people getting it too. Rivalry without a proper purpose doesn't make sense to me; it's just plain spite, and well, you did say it was stuff of primary school, so shouldn't it stay there?

Then again, I'm not in the position. I didn't go through what you did, and I don't know the situation as clearly as you do.

So now I don't really know what to think... all I know is that many of my friends didn't get to attend the Day or the Evening.

---

Trying out a few new games... this one's in beta now, called Darkspore.

And my CoD: Black Ops is NOT WORKING...

five hundred and twenty one

2011-03-27T15:48:00.002+08:00

2 more weeks to POP!!

I just discovered the joy of printing photos. I like to take a lot of photos (well I used to before army) but never before had I actually gone to a shop to print them and hold them and look at them.

When I move house, I'm going to dedicate a wall to photos. A wall of solid memories.

---

Happy birthday Larry :)