Mädels, Part 2: Bridging the Divide

Read part 1 of Mädels here.

You know what I hate?

Umbrellas.

They're large and unwieldy. They're not exactly cheap. And they don't always do their job well; too many times have I had the unfortunate experience of returning home soaked worse than a shipwrecked pirate, even with a new, supposedly-high-quality umbrella by my side (or above me, depending on how you want to see it). And the absolute worse part: they lose themselves, so easily. I'm serious: one managed to go totally AWOL on me when I left the table for about fifteen minutes or so to meet someone. Needlessly to say, having an umbrella on me is now more of a grudging necessity than anything else.

But you know what I hate more than umbrellas? Fools. Specifically, brainwashed, society-pressured, traditionalist fools.

Why Malaysia Should Stop Trying To Be A High-Income Nation

Just recently, at the Barisan National Open House in Penang, Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak reiterated his government's stand to make Malaysia a high-income nation by 2020.

By this, I assume the government means that it intends either to push up our income levels to "rich" levels, or create a much larger class of wealthy people compared to what we have today

While it is certainly comforting to dream about our future lives of fat pockets, fast cars and large bank accounts, this mindset is, to put plainly, foolish.

Emotions, Online

“@terencewang101 hey, long time no see bro... How’s life?”


On 11:44 a.m., 19 September 1982, Scott Fahlman became the first person in the world to use an emoticon.

Posted to the Carnegie Mellon University computer science general board, he was proposing characters for people to express themselves online better. In particular, their emotions. In an early digital world that communicated purely in text, Fahlman knew it would be important to have a means to replace one of the most significant parts of human interaction. And so he decided on three characters - a colon to represent the eyes, a dash for the nose, and a curved bracket for the (what else?) mouth.

I suspect, however, he never imagined the crude, yet ingenious smiley would live on to become an irreplaceable staple of the online world.

"I propose that the following character sequence for joke markers:
:-)
Read it sideways.  Actually, it is probably more economical to mark
things that are NOT jokes, given current trends.  For this, use
:-( "

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.