Okay, let me just be simplistic and quasi-quantitative. Let's imagine most of the world start working at 20 years old, work 5 days a week, retire at 60, live till 80, get married and have 2 children in each family.

So, you would spend 5/7 of 40 years of your live earning money, 2/7 of 40 years and 7/7 of 20 years spending money, while your kid spends 7/7 of his first 20 years, spending your money. So,

   (5/7)*40 : (2/7)*40 + 20 + 20

=>    200/7 : 360/7

=> (working : spending) = (5 : 9)

Say A and B have equal need. So A would serve B, and B would serve A. So when A works, B enjoys, and when B works, A enjoys. So A would work 7 hours in 14, and B would work another 7 in 14.

Yet here, you would work 5 hours in 14. So someone somewher is working 9 in 14 - afterall, someone's gotta give, rite? That would be 9/5 as much work as you. But if you work 5 days a week, how can that someone be woring 9 days a week?

Ah, that's because you can make more than 1 person happy at the same time. If you could make 2 people happy in 1 hour, then you can work 1/3 of the time and everyone will be happy. Ah, maybe that's the strength in numbers - and why personal service is so expensive...

okay, maybe this sounds like rubbish :P

Gray Machi

やっぱり、グレイ色の町だ。行くときあまり気づかなくても、帰る時はきっと、綺麗だな、シンガポールっては、と思うだろう。そのとき、シンガポールの緑さ、そして透明な空気や町の鮮やかさを感じる。ジョホールで吸い込むのは、まるで灰色の空気。なぜか、何でも褪せたようみ見えた。ビルも、道路の側の木も。これは、ひょっとすると、シンガポール人の醜さだろうか。毎週末ここに来て、この町を汚れやがって。シンガポール人のゴミ捨て場になっちまったのか、わが国の寸土のジョホール。

And now, the end is near, and so I face, the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.
I've lived, a life that's full, I've traveled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention.
I did, what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption.
I planned, each charted course, each careful step, along the byway,
and more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

I had Keiko Lee singing that on my radio, and for that while, I really wanted to know if that's how he must have felt like lying on his bed at home. I recalled the stories that were told of him, how when he was young, he used to throw really wild parties that run into the night, with Tiger giving them all the booze they needed, and jumping into the pool running around drunk and all. The parties I remember weren't as wild anymore, but as I recall those evenings around the swimming pool, I can still almost feel the wood and brick under my feet and smell the Christmas air. The queueing up at buffet tables for food, and the chatter of half-familiar voices in the open garden. It seemed all so recent, though I can also recall the years when these parties stopped. And I also recall the year when i refused to change into clothes that were better suited for a party, arguing that it ought be me and not my clothes that were invited to the party - of course in the end, my parents won - but that happening that year became a beacon throwing light on how much in debted my family has been to them.

Imagine, a young doctor, not long after graduation, working for an established doctor - and spending the rest the better part of his life in the very same clinic. It's unheard of in this current society and time, but suddenly i feel linked to some old tradition. And just as much I feel linked to this family.

And it's like suddenly, so suddenly, something's that been there all this while is gone. So fast. I still remember how he used to drink throughout his party and walk around and talk to everybody. I can still hear his voice...

For many reasons, I suddenly feel like he's family. Especially when I think about how his family indirectly has provided for my family, I suddenly realise that somewhere deep inside, they have actually become a little part of me. Really. Family is not just about the poeple who are connected to you by blood.

実は、元旦の挨拶のカキコは、大晦日の夜１１時過ぎ書き込んだのだ。教会へ行かなかった。パーティーの誘いもなかった。カウントダウンの過ごし方も悩みたくなかった。逃避にしろ、なんにしろ、わざと早く挨拶のカキコをしといて、１２時の前に寝た。

正直、純粋に逃避していたじゃない。人はなんで２００４→２００５その番号が変わるのを祝わなきゃいけないの？大自然の中では、そういう感覚がないはずだ。人はみんな自分のなかで、「新しい階段」という時が来る、自分のなかの「時計」がある。そしてその時計は、世界中で使われてる「時計」とは別物だ。どうして、１月１日は、みんなの「新しい始まり」にならなきゃいけないの？それは、まるで理解のつかないことじゃないか。

だから、僕の時間はそのまま流れる。津波も予告なしに来るように、カレンダーは僕の生き方を決めない。本当に世界のタイミングを支配するのは、カレンダーではなく、人と人の間の相槌ではないか、と思いませんか？

あけましておめでとうございます。
いつも読んでくれる方、まことにありがとうございました、今年もよろしくね！

Happy new year!
To those who actually bother to read my posts, really thanks so much even as I don't know who has actually been reading; hope this will be a good year for both you and I!

襲撃的な映画だった。母親に捨てられた子供たち、長男が他の子の世話を見ている内の成長、生々しい人間的さ、葛藤、悲しみ、１２才の男の子の綺麗の顔から見るのは、辛さを感じた。「誰も知らない」は本当に無駄のない映画だと思う。余計な説明もせずに、ただの写実的な手法で主人公の明君の世界に入らせるように、彼の苦しみそのものを感じさせる。子供だけが主演する映画でこんなメッセージを伝えるこそ、社会の残酷さや映画を見る僕自分の冷たさを恥ずかしく思う。貧乏の苦境で争ってる人たちに援助の手を出したくなる。自分のどこかを変えてもらいたいあなたに、これをお勧めします。みてきな。

China is a very big country, and I suppose you're supposed to learn something everytime you go there. From a tourism perspective, I'm not a big fan of China, but I did learn one thing this trip there, to Xiamen.

ONE. Xiamen is an island.

Xiamen is a rather industrialised part of China, with many major international brands running their production plants on the island. There isn't too much to shop, though some stuff is cheap. If you're going for clothes, they're not exactly dirt cheap, if you're insisting on quality. But CDs are. But there I learnt another thing about China.

TWO. Some Original (ie, not pirated) CDs are more Original than others.

Really. They all look the same from the outside, and each CD costs you somewhere between 12RMB to 20RMB, but When you open them up, you'll know what I mean.

One third thing I learnt about China ought've been expected but somehow it was new to me...

THREE. The Chinese listen to Taiwanese pop-stars.

And they watch Taiwanese variety shows too. Didn't manage to ask them what they thought about China-Taiwan relations, but while I was there, even the streets were filled with the pungency of Smelly Tofu - which I assumed was from Taiwan. Bubble Tea was in there too. Yet, apart from the stink from the Tofu, the whole atmosphere was somehow different. While I don't enjoy Smelly Tofu whether it was in Xiamen or in Taiwan, I think I had enjoyed Taiwan somewhat more than Xiamen... though maybe Shanghai could have been quite different.

It's strange when you read your friend's book. Much more so when it's a book of poetry. Especially when all those poetry used to come into your mailbox. It's weird, not like reading a diary, but more like reading a blog - that is, if you discount all those written by kiddies that don't seem to go anywhere or say anything - it's like catching up on what you've missed in his life, what's happened thus far, except... except it's printed in a book.

So makes me to think how much like a book blogs are, and how some people get printed and others don't. But even stranger that I'd use a new invention as an analogy for something that's been around for so long - I think poetry and blogs have pretty much in common - in that how little fragments make up the whole person that we are. Only that poetry is much more matured, much more artful in its ability to put more contemplation into the same number of words, and much more elegant when it starts to deceive.

Which brings me to the same conclusion that Art is whatever you deem worthy to be called Art. No, don't get me wrong - I'm not putting forth a recursive definition; maybe I should say that Art, to me, is whatever you deem worthy of contemplation, of meditation - and have such labelled as Art. Which I think is exactly what photography does. It's the promise of having a depth beyond the surface, the promise that says, "chew on this, you'll learn something here". And that, to me, sets the artistic eye apart from the scientific eye. So, what does the scientifiy eye say? Ah, that would have made a separate post.

人生は電車のようで、
時刻表でもあればいいなぁ。
夜まで遊んだりするとき、
駅に行ったら、必ず
コレダ、オクレタラモウデンシャガコナイゾ、
との電車が、きっと、その時間（トキ）現れる。
でも今の僕は、来ない電車を待ってるようだ。
時間はまだあるけど、
相手のない約束を守ってもらいたいなんて、
夢の中の嘘を買ったようだ。
でも仕方がない。もう、
信じちまってる、僕は。
この町を、いつか離れちゃいけないかな、
そのヒトに出会うために。
会いたいよ、今でも。

I would think Singapore's Bilingual Education not to have been too successful. I've thought of this for a very long time. At least 6 years I think, is what it takes to learn a language. But children struggle to split their time between two languages - often having no environment to sustain one of them. If thinking were impossible without language, what we have done is fragmenting their thought-life. Yes, they don't have enough words in either language to adequately express themselves without the other - and why should this be important?

For me, a language is not just an "external interface protocol", but also a whole framework of thought that allows you to sort yourself out. If your framework gets fragmented, you'll need something to hold it all together. If you don't, it's like having too many contractors for a project and nobody knows how the whole thing fixes together - nobody recognises the big picture, and parts sometimes don't fit too well together.

Yes, making a living is important, but if you can't even sort yourself out, you're gonna be spending a lot of yourself on your job.

Okay, maybe that's exactly what the urban life needs. People who cannot sort themselves out, seeking solutions in the world to fill them up - and along the way just happening to be always paying for the bigger, the better, the newer, the faster everything... I wouldn't like to think that this has been the energy driving the Middle Class in this country.

I think what we should do, is to school children in a language different from that they speak at home. So that they have environments to sustain both. And if this turns out bad - maybe our text books have been too badly written? Oh yes, or maybe Chinese teachers can quit pretending to be Ambassadors of the Chinese Tradition.

今の部屋。散らかしてる。今の人生のように。
今年の年末年始もこれらを整理しないと。

oh yes, taiwan. the nice thing about taiwan is that it's so overwhelmingly naturally chinese that you don't even notice it. you don't stop to think about how you have to be any more chinese than whatever you are. oh yes, sometimes you even think that you are THE chinese :P but that's what it's like... a chinese country, rooted in itself. strange isn't it? that scattered throughout the rest of the world, are overseas chinese, cut off from their land - and some of them clenching on so hard to whatever their long dead forefathers had taught them about being chinese that their brains become just a little more than antiques. but over here, people club, drink, dance, work, karaoke, eat, shop, surf the web, and everything, and when their mouths open - it just so happens to be mandarin. yes, it's the blood in their bodies, connected to the land. yes, over here, culture is alive. common', get connected. don't let the word culture fit awkwardly in your mouth like some ancient mantra that you have to recite day after day. let go. then as it flows in your blood, you'll start to realise that it's really just the way you live.

いつその一歩を踏み出そうのか、まだ思ってる。怖いが、それこそが僕の人生の旅みたいに、どこかから呼びかけてくる。でも世界を見たい。だが、そんな勇気は、今のところはまずない。このまま歩んでいっても、素敵なたびになるじゃないか、ともよく思ってるけど、旅人の人生は、とにかく魅力的。サラリーマンの日々を送ってる内、まるで都会の罠に陥っていくような気がする。

Don't ask me out for horror shows. I'd tell you it's not my type of movies, but it's really because I get very scared. And shouting in curling up in the cinema seat is really too uncool. Even when I know something's just about to happen, that the guy's going to come up from behind, I still get a terrible shock when he does. As much as I would cry even when I know they're just using those very emotive words together to make me feel like that. But I'm just like that. And I laugh very loud in funny shows. Maybe it's because I have nobody to cry for, nobody to laugh for in life, that I'd pour out to a screen. Yet I have a problem with recycled jokes. If I've already heard it five years ago, it's just not funny anymore. Mayhaps, this, is where the problem lies. If I had known love five years ago, it's probably not going to be easy to make me laugh again. But if you're out there trying, remember also that I laugh very loud. Yeah, I'm just like that.

USD. With the world's economies coming up and going down, everything's still measured in USD. Don't like thinking about it that way. Foreign currency. Branded goods. Starbucks. Think about it. It really looks like an american company is offering the local community same drink, at the same price. Okay, maybe I'm pushing it a little too far, but after a while, you feel like you're not making anything until you're making USD. Yes, it's a free world and everything's on offer, with a price tag in USD. There's only one real First World, and it's not too hard to understand the american dream. Yes, i think the american dream is still pretty much alive all around the world, but I'm too asian for it.

寒かった。

寒かったとしかいえない。昨夜はそんなに楽しかったのに、そのよる、Clubの中で、一言も言わずに姿が消えた。正直惹かれた、その歌声に。驚いた。すごかった。いつかまた聞きたいほど。でもClubでの夜の寂しさは、「寒かった」としかいえない。ビル何杯も飲んであげたのに、酔っていたのに、彼の姿は、どこにもなかった。いいえ、寒かったのは心だけじゃなく、体は本当に震えてた。そのあったかい懐、どこに行ったんだろうか。一人で帰るつもりもなかったが、その夜、本当に台湾の夜の寒気を味わった気がする。

Back from Taiwan. Singapore's weird. Somehow feeling that. Singaporeans are strange, somehow - in my head, it's just not natural.... argh. what's wrong?

本当に満足した。１０時までの残業なのに、本当に満足した感じだった。頑張ったから。思い切り遊ぶのがどれほど楽しかったら、なるほど、その分努力するのも楽しい。久しぶりな感じだった。珍しくて、貴重な一刻。頑張ってきたと思うのは、こんな感じか。もう忘れた感じだな。その一瞬、本当に和を感じてた。

“Hello, Unlce? I'm Joel here. Is 阿妈 in？……
阿妈？我明天跟你去饮早茶。好吗？
明天饮早茶。
八点。
嗯。”

That boy beside me was saying all that in stuttering Cantonese to his Grandma. But somehow it all seemed so grown-up. Compared to all the great sounding dreams that teenagers brag about, that now seem somehow shallow. But here, within such a simple conversation, I was encouraged. Glad for that utterly frank sincerity that came forth from his voice. Perhaps, we in Singapore haven't yet figured out how much we've lost when we forsook the dialect tongue.

朝一人で自分の部屋で起きるのが好き。毎朝の決まりで、目をまだ開けていないうちラジオをスイッチオン。ラジオ体操で耳の運動。いつも失敗してるが、ニュースで大脳の運動。音楽が流される時起床。洗面。着替え。シェービング。髪の毛の整理。などなど、些細ながら、自分のスペースを贅沢に享受してる。普通は気づかないが、おばさんが僕の部屋に寝てたとき、感じてた。将来二人で暮らす朝、今の僕には、想像できない。