The Talking Heads Amongst Us

BS

The media has a habit of going to the same media whores for their opinions.

The way it works, it looks like Singapore has only one (Jabba the Hutt-looking) psychiatrist, one cartoonish stock broker with a penchant for cheap, ugly hats, one property agent who can’t seem to talk without projectile-spitting saliva, one (pondant-looking) plastic surgeon and one nominated MP who is famous now for repeating the obvious. (Christ, is that how that idiot makes a living?)

Most of these clowns just spew crap, or at best, glorified commonsense re-packaged as profound, analytical statements. Period. I would venture to suggest that some are actually not being very professional by making comments they are not supposed to be making on matters whose details they really know very little about.

Sunday’s papers carried news about a boy from Hong Kong who was dumped here by his father. The boy has refused to talk to anyone. One supposed mental healthcare professional interviewed opined that the boy remained silent because he could not trust anyone.

He was quoted as saying “The fact that he has refused to talk or give any details may be a sign that he has long given up or doesn’t trust people anymore. If a trusted person can do such a thing to you, then nobody else can be trusted.”

What baloney! Has this person met the boy and interviewed him? What has he done to diagnose the boy professionally in order for him to make a statement like this? Is the boy autistic? Or suffering from PTSD? What the talking head said are the kinds of rubbish uneducated, misinformed uncles in kopi tiams conjecture about while binging on cheap beer while ogling at beer promoters’ tits.

The Sunday Times claimed that he is a psychologist. Well when I read that my bullshit meter immediately went off the charts. Shame on the media for running to so-called go-to “experts” for such nonsensical and unqualified “professional” opinions.

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A Masterpiece by Yanik

 

Skull

Sadik Yanik is famous for his skull meerschaum pipes. They are made of the highest quality block meerschaum from the Karatepe village in Eskisehir, Turkey. All Yanik pipes undergo three phases of different special beeswax varnish and Yanik claims “there is no one else who has the knowledge of this special beeswax because my knowledge of special varnish is the result of years of experience and information collecting.”

For the stems of his pipes, Yanik uses ox horns, ebonite, acrylic, vulcanite or amber. For the screws, he uses a strong material called Teflon-Delrin Connector. Yanik drills into the pipes to make a hole inside it for the stem; the hole is adapted to the size and shape of the pipes.

This pipe is 19.5 inches long and its height is 3.5 inches.

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It’s Finally Over, Phew!

Plebeian

Not allowed to watch.

So the World Cup is over.

What a sigh of relief it must have been for bosses.

Enough of bleary-eyed workers showing up in the morning half comatose and pretending to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Some of my lotus-eating friends are already talking about the next World Cup.

They lament about how they ought to have gone to Brazil in person this time. Brazil, the spiritual home of football, a nation that many view as guardians of football’s soul.

They are planning to be there physically at the next World Cup.

Wherever that is.

Russia? Qatar?

I’m not sure where.

I’m not a fan and I don’t really care.

These friends of mine remind me of those few in any population who got lucky, made their money, descended into banality but are now beyond wealthy. They have nothing much to keep themselves busy so they can hop onto a private jet at a moment’s notice to be anywhere in the world.

Some people are like that. Not a care in the world. The sheer prosaicness of their lives chills me to the bones. Imagine a life devoid of challenges.

Others have to exercise judgment – like the referees at the matches. Who to show the yellow card, when to reward a penalty kick, who to send off the field. When to consider eating at a restaurant, when to eat at the food court instead. When to feast on Kumamoto oysters, when to settle for cockles.

Some are key players – paid millions to kick a stupid round ball. Lucky bastards, but I don’t envy them. I mean if you’ve got what it takes, sure, cash in on it, not everyone can be a soccer star and life is short, isn’t it? In a world blinded by success and wired only to recognize superstars, goals and achievements matter. But I could do without the pressure that these demi-gods must feel. Imagine living with all those expectations and having only your brains and legs to ensure that you deliver.

Some are merely the plebeians, and always will be. There was a group of people who were right there in every match, right in the thick of the action but they were instructed to face inwards staring at the spectators instead of at the match. These were the security guys, who could not enjoy a single match but had to stand and stare at those enjoying the game. They were assigned to maintain order inside the throbbing stadiums by keeping their eyes firmly locked on the stands, not the field.

Clad in neon orange vests, these guards stood sentry by the field at every match, arms clasped behind their backs, eyes locked 180 degrees away from the grounds where the likes of Gotze, Messi, Xavi and Neymar were capturing the world’s attention.

Aren’t some of us like that?

While others quaff vintage Lafites in front of romantic fireplaces while enjoying their ski vacations at St Mortiz, or boast about their GTRs, or brag about their incomes or crow about their supermodel girlfriends with their superlative fellatio techniques, the rest of us can only listen, become envious and salivate and then trudge home and masturbate ourselves to sleep.

And talking about spectators, aren’t we all spectators? We can’t all be doing something all the time, sometimes we all have no choice but to sit back and watch life go by helplessly.

Not all of us can be players.

The sad thing is sometimes, life does pass us by rather quickly.

And before you know it, it’s curtains.

Football.

Life indeed.

Posted in The Good, the Bad & the Ugly | Comments Off

First Prize for Graciousness Goes to Sanjay Radakrishna

His parents must have sent him to a special school to learn his manners.

His parents must have sent him to a special school to learn his manners.

When 26-year-old wannabe teacher Sanjay Radakrishna was reported as missing in the Cambodian jungles, fellow Singaporeans were naturally concerned.

On Monday last week he set off to scale a mountain in Cambodia and got lost on his way down.

Radakrishna who bragged that he has been trekking since he was 15 and has trekked some 15 mountains thus far, became incommunicado.

This made many Singaporeans anxious.

He eventually made it to a village this past Sunday, was able to charge his phone and connect to cellular networks and read the 200 Facebook and 3,000 WhatsApp messages from worried relatives and friends.

And he had this to say to the press: “To me, it was not that big a hoo-ha…but knowing how things are in Singapore, going missing for seven days will surely make everyone panic.” (See yesterday’s Straits Times.)

No “thank you for your concern” and no “sorry for making you all worry” but just those smug comments.

What a douche bag!

God has mercy on us if puffed-up turds like that become teachers and educators.

NOTE: Lest I be accused of being too harsh with the young man, I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt. I hope he was well bred enough to respond appropriately to his relatives and friends who messaged him but surely I’m not being unreasonable to expect him to at least say a word of thanks through the press to those of us Singaporeans who have been praying for his safety.

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Help Me! I’m Surrounded by Retards!

FacepalmLife’s ok.

It’s the people that sucks.

Why the hell is everyone so fucking stupid?

I am quite sick and tired of the people around me, the majority of them are fellow Singaporeans.

You invite someone for Sunday brunch and the response that comes back is “I can’t lah, have to work, so many fish in the ocean, how can I give them up and come for your brunch?” Frigging retard is always stepping on his own dick.

You offer someone a dram of rare, expensive single-malt that would cost the equivalent of his hourly rate and he goes “Wah, tastes like cockroach, can I have a beer instead?” I searched for elucidation but failed to understand how Troglodytes who gatecrash and invite themselves to your summer homes can be choosers.

You tell someone you fear your grandkid might have caught mycoplasma pneumonia infection and the response is “The last time I had that, it lasted one year.” Well, thank you very much. Fuck you, you moron! This cretin needs a damage control program for his mouth.

You tell someone you’re not well and will miss the party and he says “Too bad.” Thank you for being as capable of sympathy as an amoeba.

You tell someone you are suffering from a slipped disc and he says “You’re too fat lah.” My degenerative spine isn’t due to my weight, you meathead! Get your facts right before shooting off your mouth!

You invite someone for an elaborate meal and top it off with a spa treatment and he wipes his mouth and whacks his butt when it’s over and scoots off without a word of thanks. You are welcome, Mr Zero EQ.

Frigging Singaporeans!

And now, the foreigners:

You talk to someone who has lived here for years after leaving her native France and she has the gall to complain about how fucked-up Singapore is and say things like “When Carrefour put a Singaporean in charge, everything went downhill, eventually they had to close the supermarket.” You want to know why Carrefour closed? All the stingy, cheapskate white trash “foreign talents” like you are shopping at FairPrice and Sheng Siong that’s why! And nobody wants to hear you complain about our Singapore the moment you park your fat ass in front of us.

You meet a guy who is a bankrupt many times over, who has a horrid reputation and who is regarded as a bit of a clown who will copulate with anything female with an orifice, but who is lucky he conned his way here and found himself a job and PR status yet each time you meet, he condemns Singapore and makes fun of our prime minister (calling him Pinkie, and Singaporeans Sinkies) and criticizes our government. Ungrateful ingrate, biting the hand that feeds you. You must have topped your class in political incorrectness.

Some of these foreigners ought to be reminded that no one has put a gun to their heads and force them to stay here and that this is not a prison – they are free to go anytime. Those who refuse to go should be deported or boiled in hot oil.

I’ve put up with too much crap for way too long.

I think I will move away and hang out with my friend in Mexico.

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Jubilee Gifts – the Stupidest Idea Ever!

Got a bunch of kitsch for being born in the right place at the right time.

Next year is Singapore’s 50th birthday.

Babies born next year will receive eight presents as part of the Jubilee gift set which celebrates our nation’s 50th birthday.

These are: a special medallion; a multi-functional shawl; a baby sling; a set of baby clothes including a t-shirt and bottoms, rompers, mittens and socks; a diaper bag; a scrapbook for memories; a family photo frame; and a baby book.

The National Population and Talent Division said these gifts are “a balance of practical and meaningful items.”

“The Jubilee Baby Gift symbolizes our best wishes, hopes and aspirations from this generation of Singaporeans to the next,” said Anita Fam, who chairs the Jubilee Baby Gift advisory panel.

Huh?

Is there a need to shower next year’s newborns with gifts? What have they done to deserve any gift other than being born in the right place at the right time?

What about remembering those born 50 years ago in 1965? These are our citizens who weathered the storms, struggled to make a living, rose from the squalor, suffered poor sanitation, grappled with joblessness, risked death under Konfrontasi, lived through government policies be they good or badly thought-out, built the SMRT, and survive till today? Some made it good, many continue to eke out a living at subsistence level. Despite being eminently qualified, many were pushed aside to make way for “foreign talents” and quite a few are jobless and having a hard time, with employers shunning them the moment they turned 40.

Have we forgotten these people? They turn 50 next year.

Don’t they deserve something?

These Singaporeans continue to contribute to nation building, pay taxes, raise families, provide sons for National Service; on their shoulders this country is built.

They are truly our unsung heroes.

Giving gifts to newborns who have done nothing to deserve anything – what a stupid idea!

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Claw with Egg

A meerschaum masterpiece carved by Kudret Gezer of Eskisehir, Turkey.

A meerschaum masterpiece carved by Kudret Gezer of Eskisehir, Turkey.

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Incorrect Political Correctness

Outfoxed by PC Nazis.

Outfoxed by PC Nazis.

Brendan Eich, co-founder and chief technology officer of Mozilla Corporation, best known for the Firefox browser was promoted in March to CEO but his position as CEO lasted barely two weeks.

News surfaced that back in 2008 he had made a single private donation of a thousand bucks in support of California Proposition 8, a ballot which sought to restrict marriage in California to heterosexual couples only.

Eich was fired from Mozilla.

I find it tragic that the board of Mozilla failed to support Eich and thereby failed to support the principle that a small group of organized protestors should not be allowed to bully a company into firing an individual for a perfectly legal personal act that preceded his appointment.

The US media is also to be blamed. Is the gay lobby so strong that the media in the US has become feeble, so feeble that it has become so deferential towards minority groups that it hardly occurred to them to consider whether there is something very wrong about a group of “diversity campaigners” seeking to oust someone from a job simply for disagreeing with them?

Fast forward to the case of Donald Tokowitz, better known as Donald Sterling, owner of the LA Clippers basketball team. He was heard on a tape that was leaked, telling his black girlfriend not to bring black people to LA Clippers basketball games.

Because of that, Sterling was forced to sell LA Clippers and fined US$2.5 million as well as having to face a whole load of other troubles.

In my view, the National Basketball Association has not only acted illegally, it has also acted unconstitutionally.

The First Amendment guarantees the right of free speech. Sterling may be a rich scalawag, but being rich is not a crime. He was accused of racism though he didn’t even use the word “nigger.” In fact, he went as far as to encourage the black female hustler he was humping – she tried selling the recorded conversation for money after he refused to meet her price – to “admire him, bring him here, feed him, fuck him…but don’t put him [Magic Johnson] on an Instagram for the world to see…And don’t bring him to my games.” Pretty tame stuff if you are privy to what Singaporeans say about other races they live amongst.

How can one call America a free country when one can lose one’s business over something said to some woman in private? What more a woman whose morals are highly questionable.

And more recently, Jonah Hill, one of the actors in The Wolf of Wall Street, had to make an emotional apology for using the word “faggot” on a paparazzo who was harassing him.

Hill said his remarks were “grotesque” and not in keeping with his long-held support for the gay community.

“My heart’s broken and I genuinely am deeply sorry to anybody who’s ever been affected by that term in their life,” lamented Hill, “I’m sorry and I don’t deserve or expect your forgiveness,” he added.

What a fucking wimp.

These three examples are examples of political correctness gone to the extreme.

Sure, it’s necessary to be politically correct, but that’s not forget that God has given us brains too.

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Assume some Accountability, IDA!

Bullshitter

More than 1,500 SingPass accounts could have been accessed illegitimately, potentially threatening the security of citizens’ data from how much they earn and where they live to their car number and children’s names.

In a hastily-called press conference late Wednesday evening, the Infocomm Development Authority said that there was “no evidence to suggest that the SingPass system has been compromised.”

To me this is just a poor attempt to play with words.

More than 1,500 SingPass accounts could have been accessed illegitimately but the system has not been compromised?

Oh, come on!

What then is the meaning of the word “compromised”?

Is this the culture we allow to pervade our nation?

The first thing IDA must do is to apologize instead of bullshitting us. Or blaming other people.

Jacqueline Poh, the Managing Director for IDA was quoted saying “For every individual, the incident underlines the importance of taking personal responsibility for cyber security.”

Oh, so it’s my fault?

Fucking unbelievable!

IDA, fix the problem, not the blame.

For too long we have permitted officials of public organizations to get away with murder without having to account for their incompetence.

It’s high time regulators themselves are regulated!

It’s IDA’s job to ensure that such incidents do not happen!

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Speak English Movement Communicating Wrong Message?

This is my new grammar teacher? Eeks!

This is my new grammar teacher? Eeks!

The Speak Good English Movement has enlisted drag queen comedian Kumar to give Singaporeans grammar lessons, as part of a long-running drive to encourage the correct use of English.

I for one believe that English should be spoken the way English ought to be spoken – and I don’t mean with a phony accent like those posers reading news on local TV or those awful DJs we have on local radio.

My view is that “Singlish” – the popular local patois – though colorful and so uniquely Singapore, should only be used judiciously.

That’s because Singlish is simply not English. It’s as English as “Taglish” (Tagalog-English, the “English” spoken by Filipinos); it’s as English as “Tok Pisin” – a “language” originally developed as trade pidgin and widely used in everyday conversations in Papua New Guinea today.

So, yes, do speak good English please! I strongly encourage it. I wholeheartedly support the Speak Good English Movement.

My issue is with the use of Kumar. To me, Kumar is a person who has made a living out of dressing in drag and telling vulgar jokes. (What is sadder is that people actually pay good money to go and watch him make an absolute fool of himself. But that’s another blog post for another time.)

Kumar is hardly a role model, in my opinion. All that mascara, that over-the-top makeup, that lipstick, that limp wrist, that overly-exaggerated supposedly “feminine” body language, plus the Singlish he often uses, is in fact, totally revolting. And he’s going to teach us grammar?

By using this tragically comical and utterly pathetic character, though he’s popular – he even has his own TV series now – negates the efforts of the Speak Good English Movement. Moreover, by using Kumar, what message is the Movement sending to the young and the impressionable, especially those still in school? Indeed, why use Kumar? Has the Movement lost steam? If so, whoever’s in charge must grasp the nettle and generate some creative strategies to give it renewed vigor. Perhaps it’s high time to appoint a better person, a more qualified person, to helm the Movement?

There has never been a need for any country to use transvestites for educational purposes, other than to illustrate what aberrations of nature they really are and what gender confusion can do to some – usually very mentally disturbed – people.

If comedians must be used, surely there is no shortage of comedians in this country of ours. Just look around you. The clown who accused the prime minister of misappropriating our Central Provident Funds is trying to be a Nominated Member of Parliament – there you go, that’s one ready comedian we can turn to, right?

It’s a warped world we live in when we appoint an obnoxious cross-dresser notorious for telling obscene jokes to help us speak good English and when a bearded tranny wins the Eurovision Song Contest 2014.

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