Interhouse debates- Thought we could win, but oh well, we lost to Jaryl's team in the debate, THW privatise all public transport services, which we were opposing. Good experience- nerve-wrecking, and Jaryl was fairly intimidating- and hopefully, in the next debate, which is impromptu (1h of prep), we'll triumph over the other team. What is surprising is that I didn't feel any sadness at all upon losing, which is very unlikeike myself.Congratulations to Yongsheng and team to have won the debate :)
Physics: somehow, I have to squeeze out at least half of my time to prepare for sjpo... There'll be so much competition, and I know I won be as good as physics RA +science club and the like, so I decide to just try my best and hope for more (than the best). Meanwhile, it's an uphill task to find time to learn more...
Portfolio: almost everyone in my badge's worried about this: showcase portfolio's due soon and really, I don't know what to do... want to tie in chem porfolio with showcase portfolio, but since I'm not sure what to do for showcase, I cannot do chem portfolio, which is due last week. I'm ruminating: the war of attrition against the massive edifice of the portfolio is ongoing.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Interhouse debates
OK, I'm not a debater, and can never be a debator. My approach in life is to accept things at face value, and check if they work in general. I do question, I do argue, but not vocally/ outspokenly. Just a quiet assessment of the pros and cons, internal contradictions. That's why you never spot me debating with other people. I do argue when they don't argue with logic, but this can only be considered a "personal attack"--disapproval of that person, not a debate.
But debates are useful. It teaches you English because you neeed to construct arguments which are grammatically sound and persuasive (which requires vocabulary). By the way, is debates singular or plural?
More than that, it trains your oratorical skills (persuasive speech :) and public speaking ability. That requires confidence, and through debates, hopefully I will truly gain confidence.
That's why I never regret joining inter-house debates. The stress and excitement I'm experiencing right now... unbelievable. Even a highly-charged rugby match cannot be compared to this.
As Ashish said, "When 7 new and logical substantives are being brought up and you sit there, stunned, not knowing how to rebut... that's what I call intellectual stimulation." (quote based on impression)
Monday, July 21, 2008
complain: too much holidays
There’s something wrong, wrong, wrong about school. As our very much revered TPH rightly puts it, “这个学期有十个星期，你说上几个星期的课?” Although that was a rhetorical question, he answered it anyway, “我看有足足有三个星期放假！” (exasperated wry smiles). It’s a nail on the head, though. School’s so “in and out”, brief and not at all intense, like a stuttering engine which would extend its insistence and existence way past the start of our traditional holidays. School-going is no longer a continuous, flowing process of learning, or rote-learning, or spoon-feeding, it’s highly interrupted, slack and almost non-existent.
The very purpose of school lessons, I feel, is to teach us societal conventions and conventional information in as quick a way as possible. So it’s chop chop information cramming in school, and after you’re left at home at your own devises. There you can engage yourselves in independent, critical thinking, read out of curriculum, explore the world… do whatever your heart tells you to!
But now they’re placing so much holidays in between that there’re no lessons—then where to get the teaching and learning done? Do it myself? A good solution… precisely what I’m doing now. But I want to be able to do whatever I like, so either I don’t care much about the tested topics or I care about them and try to get all the information I require. Let’s say I’m a good boy and commit to the latter, the next question to ask is: what do I look through? Which fact do I concentrate on and mull over? Which one do I just take at face value and gloss over? Unless you’re a genius (which I’m not), we would want structured lessons that tell us all these so that we’re not that tied down to exams, and can do whatever we want easier.
Perhaps I’m being too reliant on spoon-feeding, rote-learning. Or perhaps I assume that lessons are in fact very useful. I’m assuming wrongly, lessons aren’t useful. Many teachers don’t teach properly, they don’t give enough information, they don’t explain and enlighten. Nowadays there’re “peer-teaching”, “discussions” (useless unless it’s lit), creative and “thought-provoking” videos and slides which seem educational but never convey new insights or information. Lessons aren’t that spoon-feeding anymore too.
I’m ranting. It shouldn’t matter whether there’s teaching, there’re lessons or lack thereof. I just have to accept things and move on.
The very purpose of school lessons, I feel, is to teach us societal conventions and conventional information in as quick a way as possible. So it’s chop chop information cramming in school, and after you’re left at home at your own devises. There you can engage yourselves in independent, critical thinking, read out of curriculum, explore the world… do whatever your heart tells you to!
But now they’re placing so much holidays in between that there’re no lessons—then where to get the teaching and learning done? Do it myself? A good solution… precisely what I’m doing now. But I want to be able to do whatever I like, so either I don’t care much about the tested topics or I care about them and try to get all the information I require. Let’s say I’m a good boy and commit to the latter, the next question to ask is: what do I look through? Which fact do I concentrate on and mull over? Which one do I just take at face value and gloss over? Unless you’re a genius (which I’m not), we would want structured lessons that tell us all these so that we’re not that tied down to exams, and can do whatever we want easier.
Perhaps I’m being too reliant on spoon-feeding, rote-learning. Or perhaps I assume that lessons are in fact very useful. I’m assuming wrongly, lessons aren’t useful. Many teachers don’t teach properly, they don’t give enough information, they don’t explain and enlighten. Nowadays there’re “peer-teaching”, “discussions” (useless unless it’s lit), creative and “thought-provoking” videos and slides which seem educational but never convey new insights or information. Lessons aren’t that spoon-feeding anymore too.
I’m ranting. It shouldn’t matter whether there’s teaching, there’re lessons or lack thereof. I just have to accept things and move on.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A tribute
There is always a certain profound anguish if someone so special to you, who shares such special memories with you, passes on. Nothing can be compared to this experience-- not failing your Os and As and everything else, not getting retrenched, not not realising your dreams, not failure. Not sickness, not your disease, nothing. It's like a part of your heart has been filled with so much of that person, and suddenly this person's gone, and that part of your heart a void. You cry, you grieve, you know that crying and grieving don't help things a bit. You're helpless.
I remember her holding my small podgy hands, then my long tapered fingers, crossing the main road, always reminding me how the road's dangerous, how I have to take extra care crossing the road. Her hands, sometimes warm, sometimes cold, but I never stopped holding it even after the road was crossed. It was just so natural to hold on.
But I had to let go. I've cried and refused for days. It was so painful. I just didn't wish to do it.
But at my last glance at her peaceful countenance, I knew that nothing's going to change. There was a finality in that look. So I let go. And in my heart, the void of that physical person is once again filled, this time with her spirit and our shared memories, guiding me and accompanying me forever.
I remember her holding my small podgy hands, then my long tapered fingers, crossing the main road, always reminding me how the road's dangerous, how I have to take extra care crossing the road. Her hands, sometimes warm, sometimes cold, but I never stopped holding it even after the road was crossed. It was just so natural to hold on.
But I had to let go. I've cried and refused for days. It was so painful. I just didn't wish to do it.
But at my last glance at her peaceful countenance, I knew that nothing's going to change. There was a finality in that look. So I let go. And in my heart, the void of that physical person is once again filled, this time with her spirit and our shared memories, guiding me and accompanying me forever.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Peddler selling her wares
This time round, brother wasn’t around and my parents were busy, so I went to the English tuition centre via public transport, alone. No big deal, it’s not as if I haven’t done that before.
Arriving at Novena, I always had to walk across the underpass to reach the place. As usual, it was fairly noisy, with the countless reverberations bouncing around the 2 walls, the ceiling and ground, which were hardly 3 metres from each other, similar to how we would flank our hands beside our mouths when we shout. A lone basker sat, strumming and singing an oldie that no one seemed to know.
And then at the escalator landing, a middle-aged lady with a crumpler peddling her goods—simple blue pens. “Pen?” she asked as she offered a brand new pen with wrapper attached. I merely walked past, ignoring her existence. Turning back, I noticed many more pens lay on a ledge. Approximately 10, though I didn’t bother to count.
I reached the tuition centre, and forgot about the whole thing. Nothing unusual, nothing notable after all…
2 hours later, I came back from tuition class, walking across the underpass, again.
The same lady offered a brand new pen with wrapper attached. “Pen?” she asked hopefully. This time, I held out my hand in rejection and walked on.
The basker’s taken a break, looking at his scores. This time there wasn’t a crowd, only a few individuals walking, minding their own business. I turned my head, and noticed once more, that the number of pens which lay on a ledge remained approximately 10.
Perhaps she’d sold more than 10 and had replaced the previous batch. Maybe not.
But something urged me to carry on walking. Of course, I still wanted to return and just buy a single brand new blue pen, just to put a smile on her spent countenance.
But I didn’t. I never bought not-entirely-useful trinkets from peddlers such as these. This time was no exception. This time round, I was a bit regretful, yet I was more hardened. On one hand, buying could mean “helping the needy”, on the other hand, it could be encouraging opportunists eager to earn quick bucks.
I just walked on.
Arriving at Novena, I always had to walk across the underpass to reach the place. As usual, it was fairly noisy, with the countless reverberations bouncing around the 2 walls, the ceiling and ground, which were hardly 3 metres from each other, similar to how we would flank our hands beside our mouths when we shout. A lone basker sat, strumming and singing an oldie that no one seemed to know.
And then at the escalator landing, a middle-aged lady with a crumpler peddling her goods—simple blue pens. “Pen?” she asked as she offered a brand new pen with wrapper attached. I merely walked past, ignoring her existence. Turning back, I noticed many more pens lay on a ledge. Approximately 10, though I didn’t bother to count.
I reached the tuition centre, and forgot about the whole thing. Nothing unusual, nothing notable after all…
2 hours later, I came back from tuition class, walking across the underpass, again.
The same lady offered a brand new pen with wrapper attached. “Pen?” she asked hopefully. This time, I held out my hand in rejection and walked on.
The basker’s taken a break, looking at his scores. This time there wasn’t a crowd, only a few individuals walking, minding their own business. I turned my head, and noticed once more, that the number of pens which lay on a ledge remained approximately 10.
Perhaps she’d sold more than 10 and had replaced the previous batch. Maybe not.
But something urged me to carry on walking. Of course, I still wanted to return and just buy a single brand new blue pen, just to put a smile on her spent countenance.
But I didn’t. I never bought not-entirely-useful trinkets from peddlers such as these. This time was no exception. This time round, I was a bit regretful, yet I was more hardened. On one hand, buying could mean “helping the needy”, on the other hand, it could be encouraging opportunists eager to earn quick bucks.
I just walked on.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
this is it--> a new blog :)
I've just created a blog here... Hope that this blog can hone my language skills... Hope that everyone who reads this find this interesting and maybe reflective of my character (I stress on the word "maybe" -I do rave and hurl invectives at people sometimes)... Hope that this blog can be a source of inspiration for my (dormant) creative soul and a source of hope when adversity seems so crushing...
I don't know... but hopefully, this blog will overcome the terrible fates that many other blogs -including many of my previous attempts at blogging- face and last.
I don't know... but hopefully, this blog will overcome the terrible fates that many other blogs -including many of my previous attempts at blogging- face and last.
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