Calling Home, Part 6: In Between

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 6/6, Terence Wang wonders about roads taken, and ones that lie ahead.

A slight scowl of annoyance must have crossed over my face as the ear-piercing screech emitted from my bicycle’s front disc brake, which cut my (admittedly dangerously high) acceleration enough to avoid the creaky red truck (which had no business being in this neighbourhood anyway) passing a few inches too close for comfort on my right. Damn that truck. Damn my brakes too.

But to be fair, I’d abandoned my bike so long, it was probably getting rusty anyway. Not coincidentally, so was I.

Wiping the little layer of sand sprayed across my face (I’m looking at you, you stupid truck), I straightened my bike, put a firm foot on the left pedal and continued forward. Down the wide road with the park on my right and semi-detached houses on the left, deeper into the scattered, and arguably more interesting, lanes of the continuously expanding housing estate that was Taman Impian. My home territory.

Except that, in a way, it wasn't. Not anymore.

Calling Home, Part 5: Fifteen Thousand

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 5/6, Siangling Tan takes a step back to reflect on tough choices.

15,000 km is one-point-five Trans-Siberian railways.

I like looking out of the bus window on my way home, as clichéd as it may sound. The autumn leaves of every shade of red and yellow litter the ground and form a breathtaking collage. Kids wave at us as the bus drives by, the setting sun illuminating their chubby cheeks, their blue eyes sparkling with joy and childhood innocence, their blond hair tousled by the wind. The calm and serenity provides a stark contrast to all that I have known for the former 14 years of my existence, and as much as I like the view, it is a constant reminder of everything I gave up and abandoned for this chance for a better future.

The bus rides home are often monotonous but they bestow upon me the quiet and peace to let my thoughts roam free. Often, I think about my big plans for my future, or plan out the coming days in my head, but lately, I have been reflecting a lot, thinking about the implications of all my actions, and the consequences that they bring.

Calling Home, Part 4: Snapshots

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 4/6, Grace Goh opens a window to life in a land far, far away.

<scene1>

“Jack Foster.”

“Here.”

“Ashleigh Fusillo.”

“Here.”

“Elena Giulini.”

–indistinct murmur–

“Elena Giulini?”

“Right here, sir.”

–pause–

“Err…help me out here, I don’t want to butcher this name so I won’t even attempt it. S-H-U-…”

“Shuang, sir. But please call me Grace. Easier for both of us.”

“Yup, gotcha Grace. Thanks.”

</scene1>

Calling Home, Part 3: The Ones Left Behind

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 3/6, Gregory Goh recounts a year spent with the absence of two very close people.

“You called for me, sir?”

“Ah, Mister Gregory. Yes, come in. Are you interested to join a public speaking competition?”

“Public speaking? Erm... I’m not too sure...”
“Good. I signed you up already.”

“What?!”

Calling Home, Part 2: In Big Cities, People Live Alone Together

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 2/6, Terence Wang muses about the way we interact with strangers.

“In big cities, people live alone together. Do you agree with that statement?”

It would not be an exaggeration to say that I froze, if only for a short moment. In front on me, on the still-warm-from-the-printer sheet of English, Paper 1, that title stared back at me nonchalantly, as if subtly daring me to pick it. Come on, it teased. You know this is the title you would choose.

I didn’t pick it.

It wasn’t for the lack of trying, though. I scratched my head, withered my brow, and made all the usual little movements that a scared, confused student in an exam hall. But I was neither scared, nor confused. I was stumped. It wasn’t a familiar feeling; never once had there been an essay topic, any essay topic, that I couldn’t simply pick and immediately get to work; here, however, I was stuck. And so I moved on, and wrote a little idiosyncratic story about trains and memories. It would go on to earn a sufficiently high score and secure my grade, but I wasn’t satisfied. That little title would stick in my sea of thoughts, like a stubborn little rock clinging on to the seabed, for the some time to come.

Calling Home, Part 1: Little Things

Calling Home is a series of articles dedicated to cherishing the memories made when away from home, and the people who make them. In Part 1/6, Priya Ramesh laments the blatant lack of appreciation for the world around us.

The waiter arrived, with my plate of Chiellini Del Piero and a glass of root beer. But even the saliva-inciting, delectable Italian meal with an unconventional yet wonderfully tantalizing drink could not shift my gaze from the couple at the table across.

Many of us in Singapore – locals, foreign students, scholars, permanent residents – have this habit of rushing. Everywhere. We keep running and running, trailing homework, tests, projects; perennially chasing deadlines, every single day. Sad to say, but this is the truth. We live a competitive life - always trying to beat the guy next to you, be it in your O Levels or the number of Instagram likes. In a world where we’re so caught up with ourselves – where I was so caught up with myself – the couple at the table across were a revelation; a standout. What made them stand out even more was another couple, at the table next to them.

You might think I’m a total creep, prying on two couples’ lives. Maybe I am, but what I saw that day changed my perspective on so many levels on so many things.

Hopes and Dreams

Approximately half of me, I believe, is attached to Suburban KID.

As James Bond rightly puts it, “everyone needs a hobby”. But Suburban KID is more than a hobby. It’s a passion, a pouring of my time and energy for no immediate gain.

Perhaps, if I look at it in a pessimistic passion, it’s because I’m not really good at anything else. No, I’m serious; deep inside, I know I’m not a talented person. What I can do relatively well is within the realms of writing and speaking. In everything else, I am, at best, mediocre.

I admit to having a bit of an inferiority complex. But it isn’t easy, seeing how everyone around you so chock-full with skills and talent, and you feeling unworthy being even near them. And before anyone says this is related to being in Singapore, it isn’t: everyday on Facebook I am reminded of the many, many high-flying people I leave behind, with them winning competition after competition, and generally going places. I feel bad for not being up to them. And I feel bad for feeling that way.

If there’s any good to come out of that, it means that my dedication to Suburban KID is stronger than ever. Over the past few months, the team here has worked hard to give this site the design and feel it deserves. And if I may say so myself, I’m quite pleased with the outcome.

I’ll be the first to admit that it isn’t perfect; while we have done some extensive testing, you may or may not experience a few bugs or flaws here and there. However, it packs quite a few extra features, and (subjectively) looks more keeping with the times.

Here’s the changelog:

-Revamped UI, focusing on a simple light theme
-Changed blog header
-High(er) social media integration, through the use of social media icons and Facebook/Google+ followings
-New content slider to showcase latest posts
-New ‘Recommended for You’ slider when viewing posts
-New ‘Featured Posts’ widget
-Removed Blogger ‘Following’ widget (please use either the Facebook/Google+ widgets instead, as Blogger is discontinuing support of the aforementioned widget)
-Removed ‘Subscribe to Blog/Blog Posts’ widget (it became redundant)
-Removed ‘Contact Us’ page
-Information from ‘The Team’ widget moved to its own page
-Rewritten FAQ
-Changed or tweaked font types and sizes

And that isn’t all. We have a whole series of articles coming up titled ‘Calling Home’, featuring some unique work from both myself and a number of guest writers. Stay tuned for that. If all goes to plan, I’ll also slip in some extra features before the start of the 2013 school period.

The playground is open. Time to go play.

Mädels

In what can only be described as the absolute natural order of things, guys try to be close to girls. Look, stop denying it - you know it, she knows it, we know it. It's the way things are.

While I have no evidence, scientific or otherwise, to support my following claim, I think I can safely bet a good amount of my allowance and have a substantial chance of not coming away a losing man: 9 times out of 10, these attempts to be close - let's call it 'friending' - is to, well, there are again several terms for this, such as 'make that catch', 'get that chick' or 'go out with her', among countless others. Yes, guys, you can stop denying that as well.

Of course, sometimes the motives of a guy in the process of 'friending' are even less noble. I'm going to try my best to avoid calling this one out, but it involves a word that begins with 's', ends with 'x', and has a letter in between those two that are of the first half of the alphabet.

And no, it isn't 'six'. But let's not dwell on that for now.

I, however, have a totally different reason.

In Democracy We Believe

“The right to speech includes the right to sing. So you can’t stop me from singing.”

“Oh, and you think that Singapore has such a right?”

“It’s still a member of the U.N.”

“Ah. Well, so is Turkmenistan. And Iraq and......”

“So you’re willing to be dragged down to that level?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind, actually.”

“Why?”

“I rather have one man (on top) complaining to everyone than everyone complaining to one man. It shows the stupidity of humanity.”

I swung around to face this friend of mine. He was an intellectual, and probably had gathered more overall knowledge over the years than myself, but boy was I going to shoot him down.

“You know what? I rather have many people complaining to one guy on top and creating problems, because I know how it’s like to live in a place where it’s legally not allowed to complain. I’m sorry, but living here (in Singapore), you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A Call to Arms: Protect Our Internet

Not too long ago, two bills quietly surfaced on the other side of the pool over in the United States. SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act) and PIPA (PROTECT-IP Act). They were called the protector of content creators, championed as the fighter against piracy.

In reality? Not as straightforward.


On 20th January, 2012, both bills were shelved due to “fundamental problems with the approach taken to solving the matter of online piracy”. This came after long weeks of both online and street protests highlighting the inefficiencies of the bills and how they could be used for other ulterior motives. It was a near-save for the concerned internet users watching not just in the U.S., but all over the world, as it was a turning point that would set a precedence for other potential bills to come.

Fast forward eight months, and we face a new, more personal challenge. It’s called Section 114A.

Writers

Saying writers love to write is like saying Lionel Messi is a good footballer.

Writers live to write. It’s like a drug, gnawing away constantly at their souls, making them jumpy and irritated when separated for too long. They have their own niches, but they’re usually happy enough to take on any topic or challenge you throw at them. As long as they get to write.

But one thing writers have in common is that they never write about this passion of theirs. This also means not writing about themselves - writers. Which is strange; this isn’t a topic that lacks meat or detail, and there’s certainly much to say about this weirdly fascinating group of people.

This is a short piece for writers, about writers.

When Eight Isn't Enough: Microsoft's Future Hangs In The Balance

"Windows 8 represents a re-imagining of Windows from the chipset to the experience." 

In a few months time, Microsoft is expected to release its final version of Windows 8, also known as the RTM (Release to Manufacturing) version to the public for sale. This newest update to the Windows operating system as it brings some of the biggest changes to the operating system ever since Windows 95. It bring an all-new, touch-optimised UI design and, more importantly, Microsoft's vision to unite devices that, up to now, had overlapped but remained distinctly separate: the desktop, laptop, tablet and smartphone, among others.

This is, clearly, no mean feat, and if Microsoft manages to pull it off, it would bring to life the dreams that many tech pundits (and even ordinary folks) had so fervently clung on to.

The bad news is: They probably won't. At least, not yet.

Welcome to Suburban KID

For the entire length of its uptime, Suburban KID has always been a one-man operation.

I wrote my own posts. Did my own web developing. Explored and experimented the CSS-HTML-filled innards of the blog myself. Worked on my own photo editing. And, of course, took full credit when the work was finally done and published.

It's been a great time. I still remember the times when I would feel bored, whether at school or at home, and log into the familiar Blogger homepage to spend some time on this blog. Sometimes I would write, sometimes I would tweak the design. Other times I did nothing productive at all. It was a wholly different world; it was something that gave me a true sense of ownership, and as Suburban KID grew and matured, a sense of pride as well.

However, with growth and expansion comes new tasks and responsibilities. Readers expect more; the days where I would pen a nonsensical post about Miley Cyrus (don't ask) are long gone. Quality is a necessity, and that means more focused writing, better editing, better pictures, and the like.

It is with those reasons that I announce that the one-man operation ends today.

Seven Billion

“Chen.”

“Chen.”

“No, you’ve to pronounce it like this: ‘Chi-un, but in one go. Chen.”

“But that’s what I said!”

“No, the tone isn’t right.”

I sighed and leaned further against the escalator, wondering why Vietnamese names had to sound so differently from the way they were spelled. Tran, Chen. Tran, Chen.

I have spent nearly five months living in the midst of people coming from places I have only seen on printed paper, or big digital screens. And the journey will probably carry on long after this first semester, with more experiences and discoveries to snapshot and file away in the recesses of my mind. This article takes a look at one very important aspect of that journey so far, the people, with two conclusions.

The Vampire, The Witch, and the Werewolf

Poor Tim Burton. Described by NME as the “web’s favourite whipping boy”, sometimes things don’t go right for the man that clearly tries his best. His work, well-known for its quirkiness, is often subject to polarizing opinion from critics and movie-goers alike. Blockbuster hits like 1989’s Batman doesn’t save him from criticism for some of his less well-received work, like 2010’s Alice in Wonderland. (That said, the latter is still one of the top-grossing films of all time, so I suppose it counts for something.)


As such, it is with a mix of anticipation and curiosity in which one watches any new Tim Burton film. Even more so when you have Johnny Depp as the lead, in a three piece suit and Joker-like makeup. For me personally, it’s an even bigger departure from the usual, as this is the first movie that I’ve watched without knowing any background or reading any reviews beforehand. I was unarmed. And that made me vulnerable indeed.


So, Dark Shadows.

The Ant and The Boot

I’m going to start on a less relevant note – I’ve found a purpose for doing movie reviews.

In my last movie review, I contemplated whether there was any justification for me doing these reviews any more (see the link for info). Then a few neutrons in my brain connected together like in some baby milk commercial, and I happily found a use for them. They’re now officially writing practice. Yes, it’s a boring idea. Useful nonetheless.

I’m not the best person to review superhero movies. Being unfamiliar with the numerous headache-inducing comic versions and their respective storylines, characters and settings does little to help me get comfortable with the latest superhero blockbuster that Hollywood has to offer. 


Sure, the screenwriters know this fact quite well, and often adapt the movie well enough to the mainstream, non-comic-reading audience. But still, a curious soul like me is often unsatisfied with scratching the surface; he/she wants to dig further, like one would after viewing a movie from a trilogy, but this would be like breaking the wall of a reservoir; you’ll drown under the torrent of information.

Happily, you don’t with The Avengers.

When 'Hip' is Dumbed Down for the Masses

I used to be a hipster.

(And if you expected me to roll out a lame ass punch line like “and then I took an arrow to the knee,” I’m sorry to disappoint.)

But wait a second, you say. How could that be? Like I’ve written previously, I was quite the outcast in my childhood. I didn’t catch up with the latest entertainment news, and I was devoid of any sense of fashion whatsoever. I was quite far from cool, in any interpretation of the word. So how in the world could I be a hipster?

Rock, Paper, Suicide

I’m usually very free with hyperboles, but this is probably going to be the most honest post that I’ve ever written.


I think it’s reached that stage where I need to be truthful with myself, about who I am, and what I am not. After reading this post, it’s possible that some of you will have a much worse impression of me. I’m fine with that. You deserve to know who this guy in your life is. I will not mince words; in fact I’ll skip beating around the bush and just burn it down.

Of Dystopia, Young Love and The Girl on Fire

If you know him well, you'll know that Haymitch is quite the reluctant trainer(or at least, he pretends to be). Always drunk and irresponsible, one wonders why he stays around to teach the new tributes year after year. He probably wonders himself too, except he does get his "refreshments".

Same for me, in a way. I wonder why I still do these movie reviews. They're not the main point of my blog, and not many people read them anyway. But, like Haymitch's alcohol, they're quite...satisfying.

Besides, who can not talk about this:

Spoilers ahead.

Progress Report, Term 1

Around me are grey walls. Smooth, grey walls with a slightly darker streak here and there. Nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, my laptop's right where it's supposed to be, which is to say a distance away from my already-stressed eyes. God, this is becoming unhealthy. But write I will, for write a long time I haven't done. Too long, in fact.

So what's different then? The walls are still grey, but they're mine. The laptop is on a desk as always, but it's my desk. Me? I'm sitting in my chair. That's right, folks, I'm home.

Another Big Number

Blackout

In less than 16 hours, Suburban KID will be joining Wikipedia, Reddit and others in a blackout to protest the censorship of the internet.

Details after the break.

UPDATE: The online and street protests against SOPA and PIPA have been a major success. Millions of people signed petitions, thousands of people took to the streets and thousands of websites blacked out. Even several of Congress's have crashed from a major influx of email and phone calls. Congratulations to the FREE and OPEN World Wide Web!

Another Day, Another Dawn

First off, the important stuff:

Happy New Year to all the readers/passers-by of Suburban KID from the blog committee! Thank you for the past two years-and-10-days of support!

Now, to the more...dreary stuff.