Demetri Martin - "The Jokes With Guitar"

Demetri Martin is a very talented young comedian...... His jokes are quite intelligent and sometimes not so obvious, but when you "get it", you will crack yourself up laughing ... ...

I Heard Nick Drake

“The habits of a life time will lay you low into your grave.

And when you are gone, you take the whole world with you.” --- Robyn Hitchcock (I saw Nick Drake)

Jim Morrison. Kurt Cobain. Ian Curtis. Whenever these names are brought up, one would inevitably form the image of a tragic artist who failed to come to terms with reality. Questions like ‘What might have been’ would also linger in one’s mind. However, of these delicate talents whose life ended prematurely like a withered rose, is there a story more tragic and poignant than Nick Drake’s? At least Cobain, Curtis and Morrison enjoyed fame and fortune, and their works were heard by millions before their deaths, but Nick Drake’s works were largely unheard of and unappreciated during his life time, and ironically only became popular more than two decades after his death. Does Van Gogh’s image come to mind?

Unlike most of artists who died young, Nick Drake did not live a life of indulgences and excesses. In fact, one would describe Drake as the antithesis of all things rock and roll. Born into a middleclass British family in 1948, he was educated in all things classical. He picked up guitar playing while he was studying at a boarding school during his teenage years. When he did a live performance while studying at Cambridge, he was spotted by a member of British folk group Fairport Convention and was recommended to producer Joe Boyd. Together they would craft three of the finest albums in British folk history. The first album Five Leaves Left, released in 1969, was well balanced in the sense that it was accessible to casual listeners but yet at the same time revealed Drake’s delicate emotions. The second album Bryter Layter, released in 1970, was a more upbeat affair, with members of Fairport Convention and John Cale lending a hand in the productions. However, both albums did not sell well, with Drake’s reluctance to do live performances as part of the reason. Drake was known to all his friends as someone who was brooding, introverted and morosely alienated. The commercial failure of Drake’s albums was deemed as a large blow to him, and he sank into depression and needed treatment.

It was during this period of depression that Nick Drake crafted his third and final album, Pink Moon. Legend has it that he recorded all of songs by himself alone on an acoustic guitar, and just dropped the master tapes on the counter of the recording company for producer Joe Boyd to collect. Boyd wisely retained the naked and bleak sound of the initial recordings by adding only a few piano pieces. This resulted in one of the bleakest, darkest, and most introspective album in the whole history of music. Although the whole album consists only of eleven short songs that did not even exceed thirty minutes, one can almost feel Drake’s sadness, pain and anguish while listening to this album. One of my all time favorite albums, I still feel touched by Drake’s calm yet disturbed voice, and intricate guitar playing whenever I listen to this album in the middle of the night.

Although Nick Drake recorded a few more songs at home before his death (released posthumously as Time Of No Reply), no new album was completed. On 25 November 1974, he went to bed after taking an overdose of his prescribed medication and never woke up again. Although the verdict of his autopsy was suicide, his friends and families disputed this, as Drake had seemed happier weeks before his untimely death. The truth of Nick Drake’s death may never be known, but judging from the music that he had left the world with, it would be an understatement to say that it was the most premature death in the history of folk music.

For more information regarding Nick Drake’s life and works, one can go to: http://www.nickdrake.net

世纪初的序语

(This was written in the year 2000, just hours after the new year... It was one of my short story mocking the absurdity of the concept of "the end is near" by a lot of my religious friends... It was published in Lianhe Zaobao, much to my surprise. Maybe they just didn't see that this was a mocking of the religious beliefs that the world is going to end soon......)

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当世界末日没有如预期般在1999年的最后一刻来临时，小艾失落的心情是可想而知的。

“真是一点都不守信用。明明是说好在这个时候来的嘛。” 她在手机的另一端抱怨。

“也许是算错时间了？这种事情经常会发生的。” 我回答的声量比小艾的声音相对地高出了几倍。周围兴高采烈的庆祝活动所制造出的声音仿佛洪水一样无孔不入。它企图渗透我的手机以袭击另一端的小艾和她所处的空间。周围的人们胡乱拥抱着，如同神圣的宗教仪式一般。他们似乎想通过肌肤的接触来传达彼此的喜悦。当然，这或许是男生要揩女生的油所想出来的手段也说不定。我敷衍地拥抱四周向我献抱的人。毕竟要一边专心谈话，一边分神用肢体传达情绪并非一件简单的事。

“就算是误时了，也应该有一些表示嘛。例如可以在夜空用星星排出类似 ‘对不起，由于某些技术上的问题，世界末日不能如期降临。若有不便，请多包涵。’ 的字眼啊。这样一声不响地就让地球上多数的人以喜悦的心情倒数至另一个千禧，简直是太不负责任了嘛。”

“可是没有办法，你又不是上帝。我想如果世界末日的释放是由你来掌管，像你这么细心的人一定不会忘记自己应该做的事，在二十世纪末的最后一刻把世纪末日从某个笼子里揪出来，让它降临人间。”

“可惜我不是上帝。” 小艾的语气听起来有些沮丧。

“真遗憾。” 我安慰着小艾。

“嘿，如果世界末日来到的话，你可以打电话叫我起床吗？我现在很困，所以想去睡觉了。” 小艾打着哈欠说。

“没问题。”

“真感谢你。我去睡了。晚安。”

挂上电话后，我继续在拥挤的人群中蠕动自己的身躯，让体内的能量随着弥漫在空气中的喜悦欢庆气氛而消耗。当然，我也时不时望向夜空，看看世界末日有没有悄悄趁着人们不留神时降临地球。我想假若世界末日真的降临的话，那应该会是好像地狱火焰一样灼热的火球吧。

世界末日始终没有到来。

小艾在第二天舍弃了信仰，成为一名无神论者。

Stuffed Turkey...

Not as impressive as a stuffed eagle though......

增加人口？

(刊登于联合早报2007年4月29日)
　　
　　忘了是几时开始的习惯，周末和朋友聚会时尽可能避免到市区去。因为一想到拥挤的市区街道，就会觉得非常麻烦。不仅如此，要在咖啡厅或者餐馆找位子也很困难，除非想耗费时间等待。如果不得已必须在周末到市区去，朋友之间经常听到的埋怨是：“新加坡地方太小，太多人了！天啊，如果人口再增加的话，就会变得无法居住了。”
　　虽然是半开玩笑的埋怨，不过我总是认为新加坡的人口已经饱和了。因此，当朋友和我闻知有关当局规划的人口参数是650万时，不禁感到些许不安。咱们的岛国真的可以容纳这么多人吗？
　　本地的人口问题一直是有关当局和人民关注的问题。从70年代的 “两个就好” 到80年代中期的“有能力就生三个”，就反映了有关当局在不同时代的不同担忧，而近期吸引移民的政策或许就是因为出生率逐年下降和人口老化问题渐渐明显的关系。对于人口可能增加的问题，许多民众也表示关注，尤其是对于生活素质因此下降的可能性和新移民是否会打乱本地的社会结构。
　　当然，有关当局也不遗余力地指出增加人口的好处。除了可以缓冲人口老化的问题外，还可以为新加坡的经济和文化注入另一股动力。有关当局指出本地将来的经济发展需要大量的人力资源，而新移民的注入也能够将本地的经济发展带到另一个高峰。至于新加坡是否有能力容纳这么多人，有关当局指出既然香港可以应付比本地更高的人口稠密度，新加坡也有能力办到，而当局已经有计划建设应付人口增加的基础设施了。
　　尽管我原则上同意上述论点，不过却觉得这些论点只不过是从经济发展的角度考量。虽然经济发展对于现代社会是不可或缺的东西，不过它绝对不应该是左右所有政策的主要因素。在人口增长的讨论中，我总觉得许多人都忽略了某个重点，也就是未来能源供应的不稳定因素。
　　许多现代城市如香港和新加坡都必须仰赖大量的能源消耗才能够维持高度的人口稠密度，尤其是必须使用额外能源将海水淡化的本地。本地多数的能源生产都仰赖石油，而全球石油供应预计在不久将来就会耗尽。虽然现在各国的科学家正在寻找能够代替石油的另类能源，不过这些研究都处于初期的发展。就算科学家有一天能够找出其他的能源代替品，不过没有人可以保证这些代替品的供应效率能够媲美现今的能源供应。如果全球面对能源短缺的问题，首当其冲的将会是像新加坡一样人口稠密度非常高的城市地区。也就是说，将来全球可能浮现的能源短缺问题或许就能够回答本地人口不断增加是否是个明智之举。
　　或许本人的看法过于悲观了。谁也无法预测未来，谁敢说科学家不会研发出比石油更有效率的能源代替品？然而，在此情况成为事实之前，只是因为经济考量而鼓励人口增加是否是稍微鲁莽的做法？换个角度来看这个问题，如果对于能源短缺的担忧只不过是虚惊一场，而本地人口没有如预期增加，顶多是经济发展没有预期高。然而，如果能源短缺真的发生了，而本地人口却有增无减，后果将会不堪设想。为最坏的情况做打算应该是有关当局的责任吧？
　　当然，本人还是希望最坏的情况永远不会发生，而这些缠绕在心头的不安只不过是一个悲观者的庸人自扰罢了。

Naruto and Hinata- Listen to Your Heart

I am a big fan of the Anime series Naruto, and recently I am surprised to find that there are a certain group of fans online who are debating who Naruto should end up with: Hinata or Sakura... Well, you probably have no trouble guessing who the creator of this music clip is voting for......

Lewis Black-U Can't Marry A Snapping Turtle

Part 3 of Lewis Black's rant on religion.

Lewis Black-Fossils:The Devil's Handiwork

Part 2 of Lewi Black's rant on religion.

Lewis Black-Old Testaments

Lewis Black is one of my favorite comedian. This is his rant on religion in one of his stand up comedy shows.

A Night Of Sentry

Frankly speaking, I had never intended to tell anybody about the incident. Especially since the above-mentioned incident had occurred years ago and it did not involve anyone else in particular except myself. Not even to my close friends and wife did I once mention the incident. No, it was not because I was trying to shun away from some sad and old memories, neither was it because I felt guilty about what had happened that I had never mentioned it. No, it is just because I did not want to mention the incident, that’s all. Just like the reason why one would rather read Stephen Hawkins than Greek mythologies, or why one would rather have tuna sandwiches for lunch than chicken soup. It is just a plain I-don’t-feel-like-talking-about-it thing. Nothing special, nothing intriguing.

Let’s not sidetrack.

The above-mentioned incident occurred ten years ago. I remembered it was a full moon and I was stationed in a military camp that is located on the west side of this island. As this might involve some military secret, I am thus not inclined to tell any of you present here the exact location of the camp. Although I believe that if I told you which camp it was, most of you here and more than half of the reservist military personnel on this tiny island would know exactly which camp I am referring to, I still would not say which camp it was. I have no wish to get into trouble with any laws here, especially a certain law called Internal Security Act, which technically isn’t a law, but hey, there is nothing wrong with being too cautious. Though this does not disguise the fact that I feel like a spectator of the Emperor’s new clothes, but it is always good to have your ass covered. This is something that I have learnt on the first day of enlistment, when I was given fifty push-ups for trying to chat in a friendly manner with my platoon commander. It was then I stumbled on a truth that would serve me invaluably in life. In a society or organization where one is governed by laws and sanctions, one should really watch one’s mouth, and be wary that one’s position and opinions should not contradict with that of the larger environment, at least not openly. Whatever. What I had really wanted to say was that I was serving my time in army when the incident happened. As to why I kept on rattling here and sprouting nonsense like a bitch in heat is really baffling. Maybe it is because I have a habit of beating around the bush when I do things, and this extends to my story-telling as well.

Let’s cut the crap and move on with the story.

It was a Saturday night. I remembered it vividly because I remembered feeling damn pissed off at being chosen for guard duty that day. It was a last minute thing, when the person who was supposed to be doing the duty came down with high fever and had to be hospitalized. I had to cancel all my plans for the weekend, I couldn’t return home and had to stay idle my time away in that boring place. Yeah, to say I am damn pissed off would be an understatement, but like the numerous rules and norms of our society, this is something that I cannot avoid. Well, guard duty is actually not something that is really tough. You either patrol the camp in twos, or stand sentry at the gates. There is no fear of any screw-ups, as the possibility of terrorist attacking the camp is almost negligible, considering a peaceful country like ours. No, one doesn’t have to worry about riots or thieves entering the place. What is there to steal anyway? Basically what you do is to pretend to be guarding the place, where in fact you know that you are no different from the big warning signs that say “Keep Out” nailed on the perimeters of the camp. In fact, one feels as if he is nothing but a mannequin in a departmental store. The saving grace from the pits of pissed-off-ness is that just like that what Kurt Cobain sang in the Nirvana song: I’m not the only one. Together, there are around twelve more pissed off souls rotting away with me in the camp, so that’s not too bad. Guard duty is actually a two hours shift with four hours rest in between, so it is really not that bad. I guess most of my anger is due to the fact that I am rotting in this shit-hole while others are watching movies with their girlfriends or playing billiard at your friendly neighborhood billiard centre.

Of course, even though I am angry and pissed off, I am not about to defy military orders and walk out of the camp. Rather than rot in detention barracks for months, I would just rot in the guardhouse for a day.

I am really straying too far away from the crux of the story. I guess I’ll just skip to the part where the incident really took place, and not bore you with the queasy feelings I had during dinner that I believed was some sort of omen to the events that was about to happen that night.

I think it was two a.m. in the morning. The sentry before me woke me up while I was snoring like a pig inside the guardhouse. It was my turn to stand sentry, incidentally my last shift of the day. I got my rifle from the rifle rack, and dragged my weary body to the sentry post that was some twenty five to thirty metres away from the guardhouse. It was very quiet in the dark, and the road in front of the camp looked like a listless snake sprawled lazily on the ground. The air was surprisingly cool and refreshing, probably there had been a slight drizzle while I was sleeping. I stood like a brainless zombie in front of the sentry post, which was approximately five to ten metres away from the iron gate. I stared into the space carved out by the twenty-second and twenty-third grills of the gate. Through that tiny space, I saw a tree on the opposite side of the road that had been segregated from the rest of the bleak scenery by the above-mentioned grills of the gates. It was a pathetic looking tree, painfully malnourished, almost bare save for a few leaves and probably not even twice my height. It probably stood there along with the other trees that were lining in a row along the side of the road just for the sake of being a pathetic excuse for the government’s equally lame attempt of making the environment clean and green. It probably had no use at all, would never grown healthily into a lush of green, and it’s only way of justifying its existence is to allow taxpayers’ money to be wasted for whatever government department is in charge of it to take care of it. Quite a bastard of a tree, if you would excuse my language, and I distinctly remembered I had the urge to cut it down right on the spot. But yeah, you’ve guessed, I had sentry duty, and was not allowed to move more than five metres away from the sentry post, let alone climb the gates to the other side of the road to cut down that pathetically looking tree.

What a bummer.

The weird things started at around three thirty. I was still staring at that pathetic and disgusting looking tree. The night was as silent as a Beethoven symphony played in outer space. I was feeling quite happy and relieved. Just half an hour more and it would be the end of my shift. It would be the last of the sentry duty for that day too. Just half an hour more, and I would be snoring like a pig again.

“Shabakanawa.”

I heard a strange noise from behind me and instinctively I turned my head over. There was nothing there. Behind the sentry post was a car park where a jeep was parked and two wild dogs were copulating. I scanned the area, but could not find anything that would remotely resemble the source of the strange noise I heard. It sounded like a human voice speaking in some foreign language. Yet there was nobody in sight.

I knew that noise was definitely not a figment of my imagination, and it could not be the rustling of the leaves either as there was no wind blowing. I started to feel frightened, and yet the car park seemed so innocent and natural, as normal as one would expect a dog to lift its legs upon a fire hydrant. There was nothing there to suggest that it had been the trick of some supernatural powers at hand.

I was feeling extremely uncomfortable by then, but yet I was too scared to investigate the source of the noise to ease my fears. I did not have the intention wake up the other guards as well. For all I know, it could have been something trivial, and I would probably get hell from the guard commander and duty officer if that were the case. Heck, they might even punish me by making me stay back next week as well. I definitely cannot stand two weeks of weekend guard duty in a row.

Therefore, I decided o adopt a passive see-no-evil-hear-no-evil-speak-no-evil attitude, ignoring the strange noise. There is still twenty-five minutes left before the end of my shift. Anything else that happens after that would not be my business anymore. If there were any evil spirits or supernatural forces at work here, it would be the responsibility of the next sentry and not mine. I know this is a very selfish stance to adopt, but hey, I’m no saint.

Thus, I’ve decided to refocus my attention on the space between the twenty-second and twenty-third grills of the gates, allowing the image of the fallen tree to be imprinted in my mind … …

Fallen tree?

Even if it is ten years since that incident had passed, I still could not find the exact words to describe my feelings back then. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, it was something like a cross between fear, desperation and the urge to laugh at the cruel joke that whoever or whatever had played on me. Something akin to an asthmatic patient being told a funny joke, running out of breathe and yet could not stop laughing. Think about it, you just shift your attention for a while and the tree in front of you gets chopped down. Silently and without a trace, as though it was perfectly normal and logical for trees that are growing alongside the road to be chopped down silently and without a trace without any apparent good reason. How could one not freak out if something like this befall him? Especially when stories of haunted bunks and mysterious deaths in the army are a staple diet of every personnel serving their time, I could not help but feel petrified at the possibility of dying at the causes of supernatural forces.

Of course, if you viewed the incident from another perspective, you have to admit that it is goddamn funny. It is just like the scenes from your favorite Disney Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck cartoons. One moment the tree is there and the next moment it is not. If I shoot this story of mine into a movie, I guess it would probably turn out to be a comedy rather than a horror flick.

What an irony to the impending feeling of doom that was circulating my bloodstream at that moment of time.

It was five seconds. For five seconds I had seriously contemplated running back to the guardhouse for cover, waking up the snoozing guard commander, have him telephone the duty officer and tell him word for word what I had saw, to let him know that there was a possibility that this camp is under the attack of a supernatural force. I would be safely hiding in the guardhouse, and who knows? I might just save the camp from being destroyed by supernatural forces. It was killing two birds with one stone.

Of course, I could be roasted by the groggily asleep duty officer, do extra guard duties over the course of the next year, become the joke of the camp, and make a total fool out of myself. Selfishness always wins over bravery. It even triumphs over fear. I decided to stick to my policy of see-no-evil-hear-no-evil-speak-no-evil.

Whenever I think back about it, that was the toughest twenty-five minutes of my life. I stood at the sentry post motionlessly, afraid to move even a millimetre. My head was lowered and I was staring straight onto the ground. I dare not look up for fear of seeing other supernatural events that could be happening. For example, the lamppost along the road could suddenly become inverted, the copulating dogs could suddenly walk up to me and start speaking, or all the other guards inside the guardhouse could suddenly wake up and do a samba dance right in front of me ……

My creative and imaginative mind that I am always proud of turned out to be my worst enemy that night, as it committed treason by feeding me all the horrible possibilities that could happen, throwing me into the inner pits of despair and fear. It was just like playing Russian Roulettes with six loaded bullets. I was ready to piss on my pants at the slightest bit of noise. Of course, compared to the possibility of a horrible death, pissing on my pants was a small case.

I dare not even move a hair as I waited for the next sentry to take over my duty. Of course, I did not know at that point of time whether my stance of see-no-evil-hear-no-evil-speak-no-evil was a correct one. What if I had died a horrible death? What if my delay in notifying the duty officer caused the camp to be destroyed by supernatural forces? My passive decision would be unforgivable, and I would be a sinner.

However, when the next sentry came out twenty-five minutes later to change shift with me, I knew that I had made the correct decision. You cannot imagine my relief on hearing the next sentry dragging his feet from the guardhouse to the sentry post. When I finally lifted my head and saw him, my joy and relief were beyond description. My tensed muscles began to relax, and I could afford a weak but relieved smile.

The sentry changing shifts with me took a look at me and asked, “What’s the matter? You look a bit pale and you look as if you were shivering. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nah, nothing’s the matter. It’s just the cold.” I lied.

“Well, then, you had better go inside the guardhouse to rest.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

As I was walking back to the guardhouse, I glanced towards the direction of the fallen tree out of curiosity. The main reason why I dared to do so was because I was not the person on sentry duty anymore. I was going back to the safety of the guardhouse, and even if all the trees along the road were chopped down, it would have been none of my business. However, what I had saw scared the shit out of me and totally freaked me out.

The tree was standing peacefully by the side of the road as though nothing had happened.

I ran into the guardhouse immediately.

Well, this is my story. Although it wasn’t exciting as the ones that you all have told just now, and in the end everything that had happened could have been a figment of my imagination rather than the workings of supernatural forces, but I can guarantee all of you one thing, that this story is as true as it gets. I am not saying that all your stories are false and made up, I’m just saying that mine is a true story, that’s all. Not trying to discredit any of your stories here. Just like I said in the beginning, I had actually not intended to tell anyone about this incident, but since everybody here is so in the mood tonight, it would be a spoilsport for me to remain silent, right?

Well, my story is finished. Just something to add though, I developed an extreme disliking for trees or bushes alongside roads since that incident. For those who drove here, you might have noticed that there are no trees around the parking lots under my flat. This is because I have poisoned all the trees and plants growing around the vicinity with super strong weed killers. Luckily, I have not got into any trouble with the authorities yet, but even if I do, that is just something minor. I just cannot stand the thought of a tree waiting for me in my car park everyday I drive home from work.

Well, this is really the end of my story. Whose turn is it next?

Bill Maher - New Rules - 27/04/2007

Bill Maher is funny!!!

Real Time with Bill Maher

旋转的正直

谁说直线就一定要顶天立地？
有时也可以稍微旋转自己
用另一个角度面对世界

The Woodlands Trio Strkies Again!!!

Oh my gosh!!! I found an old photo of me on the internet.... and the other two members of the Woodlands Trio from 95S29 conveniently situated beside me..... Damn, to quote the other two Woodlands Trio members when they saw this link I sent them, I "feel weak in the knees" and "freaking old and fat...."

Damn it. How time flies.

谷仓

大地的谷粮
都偷偷地躲了起来

Would you please drive carefully?

(I wrote this story a few years back and the chinese version was published. It remains one of my favorite pieces as it felt like a Raymond Carver piece to me)

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I tapped my fingers on the dining table and looked at my watch. Six pm. She was more than twenty minutes late. My girlfriend Wanjun, sitting opposite the table, was looking at her fingernails in a nonchalant way. She seemed oblivious to the fact that the person whom we were waiting for was not punctual. I looked around the restaurant impatiently, hoping to pick out the image of the person who was making me edgy. There were a few middle-aged ladies outside the restaurant peering in, which gave one the impression that they were searching for someone they know. Of course, they could also be contemplating whether to have dinner in this restaurant. If I were pondering whether to dine in a certain restaurant, I would have done the same thing. Examine the number of customers inside the restaurant, check if the place is speck and clean, check out the reaction of the customers to the food, and if possible, observe the food that is being served by the waiters. I was still scrutinizing intently at the several middle-aged ladies lingering outside the restaurant, hoping that one of them would return my probing gaze, when it suddenly struck me that I had totally no idea how the person whom we were waiting for looked like. After all, I’ve never met her before and she probably was not expecting me to show up either.

Slightly annoyed by this single act of stupidity, I vented my frustration on Wanjun and asked her irritably, “Is she ever going to come? I think she might have forgotten about the whole thing. Let’s just have dinner now and go back.”

Wanjun shrugged off my comments without looking up from her fingernails, “Give her some more time. She is coming, just late, that’s all. She told me last week that she would make it, and she is not someone who forgets easily. Stop being so impatient, nobody insisted that you had to be here. You were the one who insisted on coming here. If you don’t feel like waiting, you can always leave, no one is stopping you.”

“I did not say that I was about to leave,” I answered back irritably, knowing that my girlfriend was correct. Personally, this whole thing felt very outlandish to me, waiting in a restaurant for the mother of my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend, who for some imperceptible reasons wanted to meet her up for a chat. Come to think of it, I did not know whose behaviour was more bizarre, the mother wanting to meet Wanjun up years after she broke up with her son, or me wanting to accompany her to meet the mother of her ex-boyfriend. It just did not seem like the rational things that one would do. Okay, perhaps I’ve wanted to tag along so as to make sure that nothing goes awry, but still I could not think of any reasons that could have persuaded the mother to want to meet Wanjun. I ran through the possible scenarios and reasons that could have lead to this meeting. Perhaps the ex-boyfriend wanted reconciliation with Wanjun, and thus asked his mother to be the messenger? Nah, this seemed highly unlikely. He could have met Wanjun himself, and besides, it had been so many years. Furthermore, the mother explicitly told Wanjun that she wanted to meet her on a personal basis, and not on her son’s behalf. Perhaps the ex-boyfriend was getting married and the mother wanted to invite Wanjun to his wedding? However, if that was the case, it should have been the boyfriend who had wanted to meet Wanjun, not her mother, right? And as far as I knew, they had not been keeping in contact since they broke up, so if he was getting married, why would he have wanted to invite Wanjun out of the blue? Perhaps the ex-boyfriend was involved in some sinister crime, and needed an alibi to testify for him? It made sense. He’s probably been detained by the police, and therefore his mother had to be the messenger to relay the message. Damn, I must have been watching too much crime shows on television lately.

In order to kill my boredom, I kept fiddling with the napkin and utensils that were laid out on the table. Wanjun was still looking nonchalantly at her fingernails, probably thinking about a nail polish that she wanted to buy. I was actually quite surprised that she could remain quite calm in the face of the imminent meeting. Wasn’t she worried at all that her ex-boyfriend could turn up unexpectedly? From my limited knowledge of their relationship, I knew they broke up in an acrimonious fashion. That asshole had even threatened to rape her when he knew that there was no way that he could salvage the relationship. At least this was what Wanjun told me a few years back.

“Won’t this make the meeting a bit weird?” I remembered asking her yesterday night about the possibility of the ex-boyfriend turning up unexpectedly.

“Nah, it was Shunyu whom ended badly with me, not his mother. She had always been kind to me when I was with Shunyu. Besides, she did not know about him threatening to rape me and stuff like that,” Wanjun shrugged off my insidious attempts at dissuading her not to go ahead with the meeting.

I was still thinking about the conversation between Wanjun and me the previous night when Shunyu’s mother arrived silently beside the table. I was trying to evaluate why my strategy of persuading Wanjun to avoid this meeting had failed and what I should have really said, when I looked up and saw this wizened lady in her late fifties standing beside the table. She was carrying two plastic bags in one hand and an umbrella in another, the typical accessories that one might expect from a lady in her late fifties. Wearing a bright yellow floral patterned dress with an old fashioned looking pair of glasses, she looked exactly the way I had imagined her to be. I wondered if this applied to her son too, the ex-boyfriend of Wanjun of whom I heard but had never seen.

“I’m so sorry, there was a traffic jam. Did you wait long?” she sounded apologetic.

Oh yeah, I thought, traffic jam, what a typical excuse.

“No, we just got here too,” Wanjun lied, flashing a smile at her, “allow me to introduce, Mrs Ng. This is Peisong, my boyfriend.”

“How do you do?” I rose up and extended my hand towards Mrs Ng, which she shook with much vigour and enthusiasm after hooking the handle of the umbrella she was carrying in her right arm onto the edge of the table.

“My, my, what a fine looking young man, you do have such good tastes, Wanjun.” She complimented.

“You flatter me,” I replied with a smile, retracting my hand and sitting down at the same time. Mrs Ng placed the plastic bags that she was carrying down by the side of the table and sat down next to Wanjun. The way she sat down reminded me of the way a hen sits on her eggs. She sat down slowly and meticulously, as a hen would to prevent breaking any eggs in the nest.

“So Mrs Ng, what would you like to have for dinner?” Wanjun asked Mrs Ng in a courteous voice that was unusual of her. Well, I’ve never remembered her talking to my mother in this way before.

“Oh, anything will do. I’m not fussy with food.” Mrs Ng replied in an equally polite tone as she flipped through the menus laid on the table, which I had almost memorized whilst waiting for her.

I motioned for the waiter to take our orders. I decided to have chicken chop, while Wanjun and Mrs Ng decided to have fried rice. The waiter took our orders with a sullen look on his face. I wondered if this had anything to do with the several times we had rejected his request for taking orders while Wanjun and I were still waiting for Mrs Ng. Or perhaps he was just having a bad day. Nevertheless, it could have been my imagination.

“So, Wanjun, how have you been?” Mrs Ng asked.

“Oh, fine. I’ve just completed my tertiary studies and am now looking for a job. How about you, Mrs Ng? How have you been lately?” Wanjun answered and kicked at my foot lightly under the table. I must have been showing one of my ‘oh-I’m-like-so-interested-in-this-conversation’ look again without myself being aware of it.

“Oh, fine, just passing my time now. I am still teaching in the same school, the one where you and Shunyu were studying.” Mrs Ng replied. I was looking at her face while she was talking, and while she was saying this sentence, I thought I’ve noticed a very strange expression on her face. It was an expression of nostalgia with a tinge of sadness. It was something like the kind of look one would wear when we speak of the distant and remote past. However, it did not register on her face long enough for me to decide whether I had really seen the expression or if it was just a figment of my imagination. Did I really see her lips curl slightly at the edges and her eyes turned glassy for a moment? Or was it because she was talking about a past that was inaccessible to me that I had the illusion that she looked nostalgic? I looked carefully at her again, but her face gave nothing away. Oh, well, I could just have been imagining things. The music playing in the background suddenly seemed familiar and I listened absorbedly to it, trying to catch the melody of the song.

“Oh, I teach in the same secondary school where Wanjun and my son used to study.” Mrs Ng explained to me, probably due to the fact that I was looking intently at her. She probably thought I was getting worked up from hearing her son’s name.

“Oh, I know that, Wanjun told me before.” I replied, while trying to search my memory for the name of the song. Like the purpose of this meeting, the name had eluded me.

“Oh, she has? She would have probably told you what a strict teacher I was.” Mrs Ng laughed at this self-admission.

“She was the discipline mistress.” Wanjun laughed along politely.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed.” I said politely, at the same time thinking to myself, so what if you knew your son had threatened to rape Wanjun? Would you have disciplined him? Report that asshole to the police?

The waiter came with our food while I was still thinking about what Mrs Ng would have done if she had knew about the atrocities of her son. The conversation died down quite a bit while the three of us started to consume our food, breaking occasionally into a few comments on the quality of the food being served. However, as the meal dragged on, it became obvious that I was out of place. The two ladies were having the occasion banter about the past while I helplessly attacked my food with my knife and fork. As Wanjun and Mrs Ng chitchatted with each other while they were eating whereas I devoured my chicken chop in silence, I finished my food before them. Waiting for them to finish up their meal, I ordered a cup of tea. The waiter still had the same sullen look on his face as he brought me my tea. I looked intently at Mrs Ng’s face as I sipped the cup of hot tea slowly. The strange look that I thought I had observed earlier did not resurface again, as she chatted jovially with Wanjun in between bites of her food. Looking at her face, I could not help but have a feeling of déjà vu. Have I seen her somewhere before? I searched my memories for familiar faces that might have coincided with the face that was in front of me. Teachers who had taught me? No, that was out. Besides, she mentioned that she stills teaches in the same school where I had never stepped foot in before. My mother’s friends? Nope, that was impossible. She would have recognized me. Was it in the newspapers or news on television that I have seen her before? Hmm, possibly, but which one? Nope, I can’t remember. Or was it just a false alarm of déjà vu? Sometimes these things happen, especially when one could not justify the purpose of one’s decision. Just like the name of the song that I was so sure I had heard before, but which still continued to elude me. Oh well, I suppose it didn’t really matter anyway.

When the two ladies had finally finished their food, both of them ordered a cup of coffee each. The look on the waiter’s face was getting worse as he brought along the two cups of coffees. I guess he must be thinking why we couldn’t have ordered all my cup of tea and the two cups of coffee all at once, for that would save him the trouble of walking two extra trips. Yeah, I was thinking about that to myself too, why couldn’t we?

The two ladies continued to chat jovially with one another about things and people that were common in their past while I sipped slowly at my tea, occasionally chipping in a comment or two and a few polite laughter into the conversation. I was getting bored, but was careful not to show it as I constantly reminded myself to wear an interested look on my face. How was I not to feel bored? Here I was, stuck in the middle on a trip down memory lane for the two ladies in front of me, where I neither knew anyone or events that were happening on the sides of that lane. Occasionally, a familiar name or two would crop up, and I would try comment on that particular person, only to find that either it was someone else with the same name, or I was telling something that the two ladies had already know. Interestingly though, their conversation did not include any trace of Shunyu, Wanjun’s ex-boyfriend and Mrs Ng’s son. Now that would be something that I would be interested in. I wondered what the reason was for the two ladies not to bring him up. Was it Wanjun was wary of the fact that I might bad mouth Shunyu about his threats to rape her in front of his mother, and it would make the whole situation very awkward? Or was it because Mrs Ng was mindful of my presence and decided not to say anything about Wanjun and Shunyu’s past relationship, fearing that I might not like it? Whatever the case, Shunyu’s name was not brought up in their conversation even once, as they chatted about almost everything under the sun, but not on the single person whom had brought a common link between them.

“You know what? Of all the girlfriends Shunyu had, I think you were the nicest of them all.”

My ears pricked up at the name of the person of which I was anticipating all night. Finally, they were getting into an area where I would be interested in. I glanced up from my cup of tea and looked eagerly at the two ladies. It was at this precise moment that I caught that same expression on Mrs Ng’s face again. The same poignant and nostalgic expression. I blinked my eyes and stared at her face again. It was gone.

“Oh, you flatter me, Mrs Ng, I’m sure Shunyu had better girlfriends after me.” Wanjun replied diplomatically.

“If only…”

Mrs Ng’s voice trailed off, after which she picked the conversation up on a totally different topic and angle. There was no more mention of her son, and her face did not show that expression again. I got back to my alternating acts of stirring my cup of tea, sipping it bit by bit and wearing the interested look on my face while chipping in a few comments or two. Bummer, this is going to be a long night, I thought.

The two ladies continued their conversation for another half an hour, before I looked at my watch and realised that the parking coupon that I had put was about to expire in ten minutes time. Thinking that this was a good opportunity to end my boredom and misery, I cleared my throat and spoke up, “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but my parking coupon is expiring soon. Would you ladies like to continue? If so, I shall hurry along to put on another piece of parking coupon while the two of you continue chatting here.”

Wanjun flashed a disapproving look at me. She had obviously seen through my ruse.

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be necessary. I must be going off anyway, it is getting late.” Mrs Ng said as she picked up the two plastic bags that she had brought with her from the side of the table, where she had placed them earlier.

“Oh no, Mrs Ng, don’t go off, we still have so much to say to each other. It is still early.” Wanjun tried to persuade Mrs Ng to stay, while glaring at me. I’m sure that last part of her comment was meant for me.

“No, no, I’ve got to get going anyway, and besides, I have already taken much of your time.” Mrs Ng said as she placed the two plastic bags on the table, saying, “Wanjun, here is something that I would like you to have, as a gift from me.”

“Mrs Ng, you shouldn’t have.” Wanjun exclaimed.

“No, no, don’t you reject these gifts. Take them along with you. It is quite heavy and I won’t want to carry it on my way home.” Mrs Ng insisted.

I motioned for the bill while Wanjun reluctantly accepted Mrs Ng’s gifts. I took a glance at the contents of the plastic bags as I waited for the waiter to arrive with the bill. It was filled with biscuits and coffee satchels of exotic flavours, stuff you would expect a fifty something year old lady to be giving out as presents. However, there was something in those plastic bags that caught my eye. It was a photo frame with a picture of Wanjun and another guy, whom I presumed was Shunyu. Now why would she want to give such a present to Wanjun?

The waiter finally came with the bill. After much insistence from Wanjun and me, Mrs Ng accepted our offer to pay for her meal. The waiter was looking disinterested as all three of us insisted on footing the bill. He was probably just wishing that we get it over and done with so that he could clear the table.

As I left the restaurant holding Wanjun’s hand, I offered to drive Mrs Ng home.

“Oh, that would not be necessary. I won’t want to trouble you,” she said.

“It won’t be much of a trouble,” Wanjun said.

“No, really, I can manage. Besides, there is a bus service here that stops directly beneath my flat, so it is actually more convenient if I take that bus.” Mrs Ng said.

“Ok, if that is the case… anyway, it was a nice evening, hoped you enjoyed it. Hopefully we can have dinner some other time.” I said diplomatically.

“Yes, it was my pleasure. Well, look at the time, I have to get going now,” Mrs Ng said. Suddenly, her voice changed slightly as she looked to me earnestly and said almost pleadingly, “Would you please drive carefully?”

I was taken aback by her request, as this would be the kind of things a mother would say to a son, not to someone whom one did not know that well. I looked at her face and surely, there was that expression again, except this time there was less nostalgia and more sadness and mourning. Not knowing how to react, I stammered, “Err, ok, sure, I’ll drive carefully.”

“You take care, Mrs Ng.” Wanjun said.

“You take care too.”

As I was walking towards the car with Wanjun, I could not help but thought about the strange request that Mrs Ng had made. What was that suppose to mean anyway? I had wanted to discuss this with Wanjun, but found that she was wearing the same expression that Mrs Ng had worn as she looked briefly at the photo frame that was in the plastic bag, which she held in her hands now. Now what was this all about? I’ve decided that this would be a bad time for me even to utter a sound, so I just walked silently with her towards the place where my car was parked. As I was slowly turning the key in the ignition, I suddenly remembered the name of the song that I had heard playing in the restaurant. It was a song by the Beatles, called “In My Life”. I wanted to hum out the tune of the song again, to celebrate the mini triumph over my elusive memory, but somehow I just could not bring myself to do it. Wanjun’s silence had probably infected me like a contagious disease, and somehow I feared that if I had broken this silence, I would have been doing something that was sacrilegious.

I still had not said a word to Wanjun as I drove my car out of the car park. She wasn’t looking at the photo frame anymore, but she had this tired expression on her face that suggested that she did not want to discuss anything with me. Silently, I drove the car along the route that would take Wanjun back home. The streetlights flooded the night with an eerie yellow as I drove along the expressway. As I stepped on the accelerator and overtook a bus on the expressway, Wanjun suddenly turned towards me and whispered almost inaudibly, “Drive carefully, please?”

I did not reply Wanjun, but instead kept my foot on the accelerator paddle and watched the needle on the speedometer turned slowly towards the right. I could hear the roaring of the engines as the car switched automatically to a higher gear. Although the streetlights that were beside the expressway flashed past the corner of my eyes at a faster rate, I was sure that the rate of my heartbeat had remained the same, or had even slowed down. Paradoxically, time seemed to stand still inside the accelerating car as I refused to relinquish my foot off the accelerator paddle. I could almost hear myself breathing calmly. The car was still accelerating along the expressway when I heard Wanjun asking me to drive carefully again.

现代的达尔文捍卫者

(刊登于联合早报2007年4月17日)

自从达尔文于接近一个半世纪前提出进化论后，许多不同的科学研究领域也在这期间获得许多支持该理论的相吻合证据，包括了古生物学者、古气候学、地质学、遗传学、心理学、生物学等等。尽管如此，一般大众对于进化机制的基本运作都不熟悉，导致他们对于进化论有许多误解。

对于进化论的误解，本人最常听到的谬论包括 “我们的祖先是动物园里的猴子”、“总有一天我们的脚趾会退化掉，因为现代人都没怎么使用它们”、“聪明的人所生的孩子一定是聪明的” 等等。更让我感到惊讶的是即使是受过高等教育的人士很多时候也持有这些误解。

当然，有些读者或许会对以上例子其实是误解而感到讶异，然后希望自己能够对进化论有深一层的了解。然而，达尔文的《物種源起》(The Origin of Species) 是一个半世纪之前的书，不只在语言表达上有些落伍，而且对于进化论的见解不如现代科学家全面。毕竟，遗传基因在达尔文死后的六十多年后才被发现。阅读一般的生物课本又会觉得过于枯燥乏味，而且这些课本所呈现的证据多数只限于生物学的领域，完全忽略到其他学术领域的证据。

如果读者想要阅读一本以生动的语言、有趣的例子、多层面的学术角度、清晰的解说，但同时不会把进化论的概念简单化的书，本人建议读者不妨可以参考理查德·道金斯（Richard Dawkins）的书籍。道金斯在英美可算是大众最熟悉的科学家之一，只因为他对科学知识的普及化不遗余力。

虽然道金斯出版过许多本有关进化论的书籍，不过其中的《自私的基因》(The Selfish Gene) 和《盲目钟表匠》(The Blind Watchmaker) 可算是他的经典之作，也是任何想要对于进化论有更多了解的读者必须读的书。

在《自私的基因》里，道金斯不仅向读者重新介绍达尔文的理论，还试图回答一些达尔文在一百多年前无法回答的问题。例如，如果物竞天择、适者生存和弱肉强食在某种层面算是进化论的原则的话，那么为什么人类和某些动物会有利他主义的无私行为呢？尽管罗伯特·特里弗斯 (Robert Trivers) 的互惠利他理论 (Theory of Inclusive Fitness) 可以回答以上问题，不过要完全了解该理论却很困难。然而，道金斯在此书却用了生动的例子让读者可以清楚地看到该理论的逻辑。不仅如此，道金斯也在此书里提出了模因 (Memes) 一概念，试图以进化论的原理来解释人类文化的起源和改变，从而开拓了所谓 “文化进化” 的学问。

《盲目钟表匠》延续了《自私的基因》的文笔，试图解释为何生理结构复杂的生物能够也可以在没有 “创造者” 的情况下演化出来，所需要的只是基本的演化机制。道金斯也在此书讨论了许多大众对于进化论的误解，并且试图消除这些误解。更有趣的是，道金斯也在此书讨论现代科学家对于进化论的不同争议。当然，他特别强调此争议不是在讨论进化论是否应该被推翻，因为从各学术领域所获得的证据已经堆积如山，进化论的正确性已毋庸置疑。此争议只是不同科学家对于生物进化的进度有着不同的看法。例如，已故科学家史蒂芬·杰·古尔德 (Stephen Jay Gould) 提出了点断平衡论，认为生物的进化是突变和渐变互相交替，以及偶然性和必然性互为镶嵌的过程。这与道金斯提出的看法有些出入，因为道金斯认为生物的进化是逐渐形成的。当然，道金斯在此书到底支持哪种看法，读者在还未翻开书本前就可以猜得出了吧？

达尔文所发表的进化论在当时的社会引起了许多争议。当时，英国生物学家汤玛斯·赫胥黎 (Thomas Huxley) 因捍卫进化论而有“达尔文的看家狗” (Darwin’s Bulldog) 之称。当然，“看家狗” 一词是因为当时社会的不接受。撇开旧时的社会偏见，捍卫者一词或许更加贴切。道金斯在这三十年来如此不遗余力地普及进化论，可算是现代的赫胥黎，名副其实的现代达尔文捍卫者。

我的朋友 My Friends Kawanku

Another Rap Goodie From Malaysia... When is some Singaporean going to come up with a rap on youtube???

Beware!

Beware of large animals.....

The Difference Between a Scientist and an Ordinary Person

From this website:

http://xkcd.com/c242.html

我们这一代

(刊登于联合早报2007年4月1日)

随着年纪的增长，我和比自己年轻的人交谈时必须刻意提醒自己，尽量不要用类似 “我们以前”、“你们这一代” 的字眼，也避免将自己以往的事迹搬出来和他们做比较，只为了贪图某种以经验取胜的优越感。不是因为自己谦虚或者是觉得后生可畏，只不过是因为自己从很久以前就非常讨厌比我年纪大的人倚老卖老般地把这些词语运用在我身上。

与其说讨厌，不如说是出自某种莫名的自卑感。由于经常听到前辈们提起那个艰苦和具有考验性的大时代，因此总觉得自己生活在太平盛世仿佛就永远无法成为杰出的人。或者是觉得我所属于的这一代在许多层面都不及上一代的前辈，尽管自己也无法搞清楚有关什么年龄层就应该属于哪一代的问题。

摆脱这种 “此代不如彼代” 困扰是几年前的事。具体详情我不记得了，反正我就是采取了以经验取胜的姿态数落妹妹娇生惯养，从来没有像我和弟弟一样历经家境拮据的状况。当父亲听到了我的话时，就把我叫到一旁，开始向我讲述他年轻时所受过的苦头。正当我以为父亲要以他所活过的年代比我的更艰苦的论点作为结论时，他却突然指向祖父，说：“当然，我这些经历在你祖父面前却微不足道，毕竟他经历过两个世界大战。不过，他的经历在你曾祖父面前或许也会被否认吧。你说得没错。你妹妹没有在家境拮据的状况下长大，不过你小时候也不曾历经过因为学校排名而产生的学业压力。我想说的是每一代人都有每一代人的烦恼、困难和必须面对的问题，而时代之间是不能做比较的。”

时代之间是不能做比较的，而将不同年代的人相提并论也似乎欠缺公平，因为每个时代衡量成功的尺度都会随着不同的客观因素和环境而改变。近期，媒体有许多报导指出年轻一代的新加坡人并没有上一代人的韧性和责任感，甚至有些评论者就干脆为年轻人冠上 “啃老族” 、 “月光族” 和 “草莓族” 等代号。

我总觉得这是不公平的指责。或许有些人会认为物质生活充裕的 “这一代” 就没有能力和韧性去面对时代的挑战。 然而，这却是犯了某种思考上的错误。由于人类的科技一直在进步，因此每一代的物质享受总会比上一代更好。是的，我们这一代有电脑和手机，是上一代没有的。不过，上一代却有电视和电话，总比只有街头大戏和书信的更前一代较好吧？按照此逻辑，咱们只会每况愈下，成就一代不如一代了。奇怪了，放眼望去，上一代好像也没有因为生活过得比前一代更充裕而把整个社会搞砸。换个角度去思考这个问题，那些一直埋怨这个年轻一代不知道什么叫做吃苦的人，可否回想到你们年轻时代，看看你们的上一代是否也说过同样的话？

当然，我在此并不是想否定上一代人的努力，毕竟我也清楚自己现在所享受到的东西都是因为前人的贡献。我也不是想说这一代的人就没有缺点，只是在怀疑有没有大家讲得那么糟糕。毕竟，每一代人都有自己必须面对的问题。我们没有必要为了没有历经艰辛而感到自卑，也没必要从较崎岖的年代走来就感到特别优越。对于人是必须面对磨练才会有成就的说法，本人并不反对。我反对的只是那些不属于这一代的人以居高临下的态度来为我们这一代的人作评价时，在没有完全了解时代是不能做比较的道理之前就一竹竿打翻整船人般地替这一代对于应付困难和挑战的能力宣判死刑。