February The 17th - Back To Moi Roots

February 17th is a big day for me. One, my library book is due. Two, it is Budget Day. Three, it is just a day after the release of the R21 gay film, a story of two male cowboy lovers. Now that the soothsayers have announced that Bill Gates and the World Wide Web are synonymous with the Book of Revelations' revelations of the 666 evildom, I am convinced it will come true.

Another commentator on the GRC and this is none other than a senior journalist himself whom I had cited in an earlier blog. The question is if the GRC was drawn up primarily for ethnic integration or was it more for enlargement of a political powerhouse, pun intended.

Anyway, a parallel was drawn between the GRC and SAP schools, which I thought could be read either way. Ethnic integration or disintegration given how SAP schools are overwhelmingly of one racial composition.

In fact, come to think of it, the journalist who argued against subsidies must be like argueing against herself, having been a beneficiary of subsidies in the form of the scholarship/fellowship she got.

The fast-ass major who withdrew from the computer deal was striding into the public library one evening in his air-forcy blue uniform displaying his rank ampulet just as I was leaving. How could he then tell me he was away on assignment for 2 months? This is bullshit. It was just a day or two before when I rang him up and the next day he has been "assigned".

The last blog on my window shopping spree kept me abreast of technology. This really bolstered my arguement that the centre of thinking and innovation would still rest with the Western world. Bluetooth is after all, named after Harald Bluetooth, a Denmark Viking King who united the nation. The Swedes were the brains behind the research into wireless technology.

My window shopping in my earlier blog brought me face to face with the same retailer who stocked up on apparently impractical computer gadgets. Remember the optical wireless mouse with just a short 50 cm wire? I am glad the wired optical mouse now is at least 3m in length and is retractable. The optical wireless ones are all the rave now. I am equally relieved I had sold off my film camera which in today's context would have been a dinosaur, what with digital cameras bundled in with mobile phones in most telephony subscription packages.

It is frustrating to surf or blog at a cybercafe in a public institution. Many of the "objectionable" (or at least that is what the authorities deem them to be) sites are denied access and I am not talking about porn sites here which one fav link of mine funnily got through. Chat channels and the universal MSN Messenger are out of bounds. What the fuck! We allow "Crazy Horse" and a slew of "objectionable" reading materials like FHM or Cosmopolitan but we want to preserve public morals by cutting off legitimate communication?

The speed here must be 512Kbps for I have never seen my Maxonline 2000 throw up web sites in frames, one at a time. Neither has my blog written here been transferred at a slower pace than a snail crawling along at its Olympic best. The mouse pad is placed at the remotest edge of the table with so little space to move the mouse, I might as well masturbate myself in a coffin.

I am also easily distracted by all the goings-on in an open environment. My creative juices can't flow as well. It is like I have a huge erection when I see Tarzan in his cute, undersized loin cloth but yet I can't ejaculate.

But I did remember bumping into this cute SJI boy who spoke with such clarity, truthfulness and conviction, I felt something down in my heart pining for him at one telling moment. The library users (more like gals and guys in their school uniforms) were, when he analogised, more social club members than true knowledge gatherers or readers.

I text him about perhaps joining his City Harvest church cell group which I would possibly visit in the weeks ahead after the Chinese New Year.

Yes it is reunion time today but I am cooped up in the library, relishing the quietitude and cool air-conditioning, listening in on my WALKMAN or to the MSN Radio channels on the Net. The WALKMAN, if you must know, was a audio cassette tape and FM radio player at one time before they invented the portable DISCMAN, its CD player subsitute.I remember owning one, strapped to my belt or trousers' pockets, replete with headphone gear-up a long time ago when
it was all the rage.

I would rather be here than to face an empty home, stripped of its furniture, furnishings and fittings. It is just me, my bedding and my bare essentials for shitting, drinking, brushing, washing, cleaning and sleeping. I could actually hear the echoes of reverberation whenever I speak through my mobile phone.

I was all packed and with very kind permission from my future lessor, shuffled most of my thingtummies to my new small room. I had a huge travel bag stuffed with my clothes crossed over one shoulder, a haversack strapped to my back, pulling a trolley bag with one hand while carrying a laundry basket in another. This would be a surreal mountain climbing expedition except that in this case, I wasn't scaling Mount Everest but Mount HDB block, all the way to the 21st storey. And the oxygen tank was no laundry basket either.

Curiously this place I am moving to was my birthplace . I remember this same road name which was typewritten on my birth certificate, a yellowed, red-lined and fonted, dog-eared document at one time before I replaced it with a laminated extract.

Back to my roots? Well I had a sumptuous Japanese lundin of Teriyaki salmon. That would be my reunion dinner for tonight, a reunion with my soul, spirit and intellect. What about you? have you had yours yet........or ever?