Kankenai

Sensei settles in for a moment, at the end of class. We're talking about nothing in particular ... the senior state selections on Tuesday, upgrade classes, the weighing in ceremony on Monday, some support for my injured right leg. And then he clears his throat ... "You know, this reminds me of something."

The chatter dies down. We're sitting Japanese style in the way Judo classes are concluded - a bow to the teachers, and then a bow to the shoman. But occasionally sensei gives us a pep talk. This part of a class allows us to keep track of the updates and the going-ons of Judo in the state, as well as learning things that we can use in our daily lives. And they're usually very inspiring.

"I suppose you've heard of Yasuhiro Yamashita?"

"Ya - that fat man." Douglas interjects.

"Yes, that fat man," Sensei grins, "Well now, let me tell you a story..."

To those of you who don't know Yasuhiro Yamashita's stature: he's a 9 times All-Japan Judo Champion, a one time Olympic Champion, with four World Championship titles under his belt. A 10 year international competitive career, ended only in April 1985 as a 6 dan black belt.

That probably doesn't sound very impressive to the average Joe on the street, until you realize this 'fat man' won 203 consecutive matches, never once defeated in competition.

Never once defeated in competition is no small thing, for any sport, be it badminton or tennis or squash.

The story goes that there was one time, after 3 World Titles and 7 All-Japan Judo Championships that his performance started slipping. His training and his ability suddenly experienced a fall (maybe like Lee Chong Wei?), and thank God he wasn't involved in any international competitions or he'd have lost his record of being undefeated.

So one day his sensei called him up, and asked him why he wasn't coming for training. Yamashita replied: "I'm really busy, doing my thesis ... this project, that project ... etc, etc."

Even before he completed his sentence Yamashita was interrupted:

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Deathly silence descends on the dojo. A chortle from the water cooler makes us all turn as one, ("Ju-on!" someone jokes) before we turn back to Sensei, urging him to continue with the story. He obliges.

"What makes you so special? Everyone else has to complete their thesis to get a Master's degree. Who are you, huh?"

Yamashita was mad for awhile, but then he turned back to training because his sensei was right. He was not different from other men. He wasn't born special. He was special because of the things he did, the things he managed to accomplish.

Our sensei pauses. He is about to deliver the moral of the story, I think. But he doesn't. He clears his throat, and -

"Back when I was working for a Japanese company there was this one guy - an editor - who would always come late to work. So my boss would go, 'What is wrong with this so and so? He comes late to work for a week, what is his problem?'

"So I told him that the editor works till 4 in the morning, that he goes back, takes a quick shower and then comes back for work at 9.

"My boss replied me immediately: 'Kankenai.'"

No connection. Kanke is connection. Nai is no.

"Sometimes I'll miss a session in the Kodokan (the Kodokan is the Mecca for Judo - the hub of the sport), and I'll tell my sensei - 'oh, I couldn't make it because of rain, or snow. Very troublesome'

"And they will tell me: 'Kankenai.'

"So I'd have to take 4 buses, walk for 2 hours, drenched and wet and even then be slightly late for class - just because my sensei would say: 'kankenai'!"

Sensei lets this sink in for a moment. We are in a variety of positions, all listening: Joash is massaging his blue feet, the dye of sambo shoes making him look smurfish. Chong is punching Douglas's back. I'm gingerly applying pressure to my fingers. They hurt.

"So well. The next time you fail or you lose or you face an obstacle - tell yourself 'kankenai!'. If your car breaks down, will you still go for Judo? No? But if you have a date with a really beautiful girl, wouldn't you come up with all sorts of creative ways to get to the restaurant?"

We all laugh, sensei included. The water cooler releases another chortle ("Hantu!" Chong says), and I ease up on my fingers.

"It all boils down to your dedication. I know how some of your brains work - girls really occupy a lot of your energy, don't they?" - another laugh - "and in the end it's all down to you."

We bow, we laugh, and then we get up and unwrap and soak and ice our various sores. Change back to normal clothes. Watch Tang do the kata.

Why did you lose the monthly contest?

Gastric!

Kankenai.

Sensei asks about my bible on the bag shelves - I tell him I came straight from church. He then shows us A Book Of Five Rings, by Miyamoto Musashi (I'm not even going to go into who this samurai is), and I snap it up. Gary is picking up his things, folding his judogi. Douglas and Chong are fooling around with weird throws.

Why did you lose in debate?

Biased judges!

Kankenai.

I return home and open up the laptop. Kankenai. All that matters is I do my best, I give my best, I do all I can to win.

Kankenai. No connection.

Amazing what the Japs can do with it, don't you think?

Whoever Made This Had Too Much Time On Their Hands

A reminder for guys with too much to do? I don't know - but I just have a penchant for cool images. This one rocks.

Why I Don't Have Ads In This Blog

You should all know by now that I rant.

Sometimes my posts are all long winded fantasies, or narratives of things that had struck me through the day. And when I was wondering whether or not to continue posting things up about Judo a couple of friends had to remind me that this was my blog, and I could do anything I want with it.

It's the age old blogging paradox: should I write for myself? Or should I write for my readers?

Right now I'm about 80% writing for myself, and 20% of my efforts are spent making sure my rants and raves are readable by you guys.

And as a general rule of thumb the more you write for your readers the more successful your blog would be. I don't need to give examples - just take a quick peek around the blogosphere. Personal blogs like mine are read by my friends, or by people who are interested to see how I'm getting through this roller coaster called Life. They don't come here for a quick read, a five minute stand to laugh about the latest stupid thing I've seen.


And it's because of that I absolutely refuse to put ads up in this blog.

Reasons

1. My personal blog is myself.

This blog is a 100% self centered effort. Everytime I post something up I think to myself: when I'm old and married and with grandchildren which part of my youth would I want to reread about? So I try as much as possible to write up on the stuff that matters to me, that captures the spirit of the times (zeitgeist is the proper word, I think). This means balancing melancholy with positive writing; happiness with sadness. I want to read it when I am grey and think: so this was me.

2. You can never make reasonable money through ads in a personal blog.

If you write for yourself as I do the grand total of money you'd make is probably 40 dollars ... over 4 years. If you're running a topical blog, however, with a clear focus and an industry driven niche ... then there's a chance for you to make a pretty penny. More than a pretty penny, actually - problogger Darren Rowse earns about 5 figures every month from his blogs; Shoemoney at one time earned 100k from Google adsense. But overall ... you rant, you lose. Xiaxue and Andrew Ho and Kenny Sia can never make as much money through blogging as, say, Boing Boing and Techcrunch. It's just a reality of life.

3. If I put up ads in this blog I'll be forced to treat it like a business.

Which I don't want to. Refer to reason #1.

4. I'm honoured by your presence.

Readers of this blogs are usually my friends. Why would I want to piss you all off by plastering ads everywhere? It's like a pal inviting you over to dinner and then suddenly shoving an Amway catalogue in your face. Euch. I'd only put up ads if this was a blog that serves up extremely high quality content - with disclosures and interviews and breaking news all day, everyday.

5. Been there, done that.

Been an adsense publisher for 3 years now. You definitely need a topic to write about ... your life is not a commodity easily sold.

Alternatives?

If you seriously want to put ads up on your personal blog ... don't go for Adsense. Or Nuffnang. Or Adverlets. All these pay you CPC, that is ... when your readers click on an ad you earn money. This just doesn't work well for low traffic blogs like this one. There just isn't enough Seach Engine traffic to power it.

So what leh?

The first thing that comes to my mind when I'm thinking of a low traffic blog is Text Link Ads, because they pay you a steady amount every month for just displaying ads on your blog. Of course you'll need advertisers to buy the links, but quite a few low traffic bloggers I know cover their hosting costs every month through TLA ... and with just one link purchased. Some even have leftovers for dinner. Or lunch. Or a week's groceries.

And of course the other ad network that works like TLA (and is undeniably the best for making money) is Blogads. Which is invitation only. Figures.

Case Closed (swt!)

Someone once said that regarding ads there are 3 schools of thought:

1. I do not put ads on my blog because I am an ethical, morally upright person. Ads are bad! BAD! They're the scourge of the earth! The harbingers of doom for all mankind! Grr! Rawr!

2. I put ads up in my blog coz I wanna make a quick dime from me blog. L33T! You noobies my chequebook is gonna pwn you!

3. I don't mind ads. I feel there is no obligation to put ads up in my blog, and I do not (usually) discriminate against blogs that display ads.

I'd say I'm from the third group. Now ... which one do you belong to?

Advanced Debating-lah: Truisms

The better I got at manipulating stands and definitions to my advantage the more I realized it was possible to create an argument that was impossible to destroy. Before you start jumping up and asking me how this can be done allow me to elaborate further.

An argument that cannot be argued (paradoxical, isn't it?) is known as a truism. In international level debates using a truistic argument is illegal. You get kicked out immediately.

At interschool level, however, most have no idea that such an argument exists.

I'm not sure that's such a good idea.

Alright, alright. Truisms aren't something you can pull off with every topic - in fact it is very, very rare. If you define a topic to be true by definition you are using a truism. An example?

Motion: Australia is an island.
Truistic Definition: An island is a mass of land surrounded by water, therefore Australia is an island.

The only truism I've seen at interschool level was used by Kolej Abdillah against St Mary's in 2005. We Thomians had actually prepared the exact same argument, but we drew Government and couldn't use it.

Motion: The best things in life are free.
Truistic Definition: Free is defined as having no form of exchange, monetary or otherwise; therefore the best things in life are not free because everything is a form of exchange.

And they went on to win after proving nothing is free (how ironic). Is it possible to defeat such a definition? I'm not too sure - though if I were in the Marian team I'll proclaim every few seconds that the motion assumes the existence of 'free', and then proceed to use an advanced debating technique called 'conditionalizing the truism'.

It is a technique I have no confidence in, nor any experience with.

I'd like to see truisms made illegal. If you're reading this don't you dare use one if the opportunity arises.

For my sake, at least. ;P

Advanced Debating-lah: Rebuttals

I'm writing this as a sort of tribute to the start of the interschool debates. Rebutting is something I'm exceedingly good at - 3 years of 3rd speaker debating does strange things to your psyche. So on with the article:

Rebuttal
A good rebuttal undermines the opponent's argument. It snaps it in half ... When preparing rebuttals I aim for at least a 3 second pause from my opponent (preferably open mouthed but rarely so). So far I have succeeded on 6-7 speakers (the others mumble incoherent nonsense in reply). This is not my skill, though I wish it was - it is the result of a waterproof argument (presented by a team) being pitted against a weak one. The only reason I have never been unprepared with a biting remark is due to my teamates. Woe betide the 3rd speaker who thinks he bites on his own.

We'll start off with some basic rebutting techniques and move on to my favourites.

1. Factual error. The most obvious thing to do is to point out a factual error in the opponent's argument. "Dear sir, Chinese is the most widely spoken language in the world, not English."

2. Irrelevancy. Another basic form of rebuttal - if the opposition veers off to argue how women mind control men your reaction shouldn't be trying to prove men have better brains - you should just mark it off as an irrelevant argument.

3. Contradiction. Many debators jump on any little chance to prove the opposing team is supporting their side. While it appealed to me at first I have learned - rather painfully - to shy away from this technique: it is relatively ineffective, and it wastes time that I could have spent on other points. The best way to use this is when two speakers contradict each other, even though each are strong, solid arguments - in debate, speakers' points must always be in tandem.

4. Unreasonable argument. This works by pointing out the opponent has made assumptions in their reasoning. If they propose studies that show more men cause more traffic accidents it would be prudent to tell them that there are more men driving on the road then women.

And now for my personal favourites:

5. Implications. In 'Cometic surgery should be banned ' I frequently used this technique to help Gabrielle construct rebuttals. I justified it against the implications of banning a multi-million dollar industry. If they said 'Cosmetic surgery involves medical risks' - I'll point out that

1. All forms of surgery include a degree of medical risk.

2. Would you justify banning a multi-million dollar industry involving jobs, investments, economic interest, R&D and medical tourism for such an unsubstantiated reason?

Show the opposition the implications their proposed solution might have.

6. Questioning the link (properly known as causation). This is a complex technique, one of my absolute favourites. Basically what you're trying to do is to disprove that X causes Y. If someone tells you that Abdullah Badawi is losing hair because of defective shampoo you can argue there is no evidence (or link) to suggest a connection between the two factors. Then you can go on to say that there are other factors that contribute to hair loss: age, genes, diet, sexual preference, favourite colour ... so on so forth.

This is done in three steps:

1.Question the link that connects two factors (eg: immigration and rise of crime).

2.Show other factors that may contribute to rise of crime.

3.Tell them immigration has little or no weight ... or is not a major contributing factor.

7. Alternatives. The best form of rebuttal ever. This can and should be used in all forms of rebuttals. It is usually possible to back up your attack with an alternative to lend it more credibility ... if I were attacking 'Cosmetic surgery shouldn't be banned because it boosts self esteem' I would point out visiting a psychologist as a more effective, healthier, cheaper, less risky alternative.

When I used it against Gabrielle during her preparations she was reduced to spluttering garbage. Amazing what alternatives can do.

Get Featured On BUGS!

Due to complex reasons like a heavily bruised leg and me visiting my grandparents BUGS was manned by the amazing Wandkey for a coupla days. She dug into her reserves to bring out interesting, high quality content and came up with this:

The Get Your Blog Featured In BUGS contest!



Andrew Ho then did a stats read up and found out that BUGS received an average of 40 visitors per day. He used this as a selling point in his short talk (thanks, Andrew!) and I'm doing the same in my personal blog.

Get your blog featured on BUGS by answering a few questions about the BUGGERS themselves! We'll review, write up and even link to you - meaning 40 odd visitors from the linkup.

What is BUGS?
Err ... you don't know? Blog UnderGroundSquare is a branch of the Undergroundsquare forums - an online community of teens I helped create. It's where zany idiots people like me get to share the stuff we think is cool and ought to be talked about.

It's also where I talk about other things outside my personal life.

So what're you waiting for? Go on and give it a try!

Psst: They call me boss. And you know what colour my blog is.

As Luck Would Have It - Photolog

I'm trying to overcome my depression with my Osotogari - which doesn't feel dangerous enough, for some reason. So I'm thinking back over the two years I've played Judo, and I realize that the best throws are always taught when I'm not there. Tomoenage when I was form 4. Gyaku juji gatame (some extremely painful arm lock) two weeks ago. And then I came over judo pictures in Friendster. These people ... train with them twice a week and they don't even think of sending me stuff.

Hmmph.

This one is slightly old - Vincent doing Haraigoshi

Desmond doing a roll (mi maware ukemi)

Desmond at the bottom, Aaron on top. Kataguruma.

Judo camp. I didn't attend. #$%^&*

Alex on the right, Gary on the left. No idea what they're doing.

Joash doing Osoto-otoshi. Either that or a warped Osotogari.

And of course I've saved the best for last:

Why you should never spar on an empty stomach

The water trickles down my chin. I am in the shower, my entire body soaked, and as usual the pictures flash through my mind.

I am slow. Saw his leg drawing back, had no energy to explode in and cut it. Gan breaks apart, and there is splotches of crimson on my sleeve.

My mouth hurts. I taste blood. Normal.

We draw. Left hander applying very dominating inside grip. I cannot impose my will and my rhythm to the match. He is in control, and it takes everything I have to prevent from being thrown.

The next match, my opponent is heavier, stronger. Goes straight for high collar grip. Dammit my mind screams, and as I negate his control he twists.

Wazaari. A half point. Two of those and I lose.

I cannot regain my confidence. I move too slowly for my own good, greenish hair plastered over my eyes. I will lose this match. I do.

A flash and Chong and Horng Eng are talking to me.

"What happened to you? How come so slow?" Chong asks. "You don't know how to attack left hia?"

"Gastric."

"Normally you are - bam," Chong makes fluid osotogari motion with his arms and legs. "But today I see you like slow motion. Lift leg up -" and he lifts his leg up "Sweep leg down" and he does so.

"Usually you move fast and then the guy is suddenly on the ground. Can't see what you do. Now so ..." Horng Eng leaves the silence for me to interpret.

I go back home dejected. Never ever play Judo with gastric on your mind.

I've learned my lesson.

Balik Menjadi Jaguh Kampung

Ignore the title. I was spending time (offline) with my grandparents, and am currently buried under online work ... 50 emails, BUGS posts, some project that involves teaching debate to the Swinburne March intake, research on an Easter sketch and games for the youth camp.

Good lord - this is even before form 6 starts.

So what have I been doing? I crafted a debate case for Paul and his team (in 30 minutes, and waterproof! - yay I haven't lost my touch ;P), read two novels, watched Astro (Ueki's hair is NOT as green as mine ... one month back) and wrote down everything I knew about debate.

Wondering whether I should post them up - a lot of it is advanced, geeky stuff ... truisms and limited parameters and definition debating and a 3 page list of my favourite rebuttal techniques. During debate season you just can't run away from your history. Too many people asking too many questions.

I'm off to Judo tonight - let's see if I can get my Osotogari to work again.

Cheers.

The Alien At Swinburne

I'm at the Swinburne Computing labs at the moment. And I feel like a fugitive on the run ... I'm not a student, after all.

Paul was asked to give a 'lecture' on parliamentary debate to the Engineering classes ... instead, he directed the assault to me. So Ms Cordelia brought me over and left me in the library. I smsed Paul:

Am at library now.

A few seconds later his reply came.

Go to the 5th floor quick. Turn right and enter the first room you see. Type
**6* as the room password.

I followed the instructions and came to a corridor, white, bland and empty. Counselling rooms, you name it. Two guys were messing around with a keypad. Sign read 'Computer Labs' above their heads.

"Give up lah. Bo Password." One of them said, turning away, disappointed.

I strode in front of them, tapped the pass, entered.

Paul turned from his terminal and smiled.

Oh, the irony.

Another Weird MSN Conversation

Oh, this is priceless:

Horng Eng says:
we r too obssessed wif judo
Horng Eng says:
tat's y we x get bf n gf
Horng Eng says:
lol
Dienasty says:
definitely
Dienasty says:
just the other day my msn pm was
Dienasty says:
i have a gf. Her name is Judo
Horng Eng says:
hei!
Horng Eng says:
i tot tat's my bf!
Horng Eng says:
wakakaka...our conversation sounds so stupid
Dienasty says:
hey!
Dienasty says:
judo is not loyal
Dienasty says:
commit adultery
Dienasty says:
hrmmph

Boy Girl Relationships

Viv-ian says: you're 17
Viv-ian says: don't you think you should find a gf?
Dienasty says: ehheh
Viv-ian says: My bro just ask me
Viv-ian says: Sed got gf already or not?
Viv-ian says: Ced*

I think this warrants a proper reply over here, in case you all start calling me gay.

I'm sure there are many thoughts on this topic: some think we should save ourselves for the One, others think we should have as many relationships as possible to gain 'experience'. One guy I met online expressed the need to explore each other thoroughly, physically, before marriage. And I'm sure you all understand what that means.

What do I think about it?

Why don't I have a girlfriend at the moment?

Why? What? How? When?


My answer is desceptively simple: Finding a girlfriend is not high on my list of priorities at the moment.

A good debator (like certain parts of my right hemisphere ... and Paul) would probe further: why?

Hmm. Let's take a look at my theoritical list of priorities:

1. God
2. Judo
3. Studies
4. (Novel) writing
5. UGS
6. Blogging
7. Girls
8. Learning how to drive without hitting sheep

My real set of priorities:
1. Judo
2. God
3. UGS
4. Blogging
5. (Novel) writing
6. Girls
7. Learning how to drive without hitting sheep
8. Studies

Probable reason no 1: I'm in an all boys school. This means there's limited face to face contact with the opposite sex. And if you're wondering, the guys in St Thom do not find trees or cats to mate with due to the lack of girls. Nor do we turn into pondans (nevermind ... back to topic).

Probable reason no 2: Judo rocks too much. Have you ever loved a sport? I just realized today why so many people are reluctant to play Judo: it's addictive. There is no such thing as a light game of Judo. Basketball yes, badminton yes. In Judo every session is a focused, mind challenging event where you get to give your best and have your efforts returned to you. Or vice versa. I love it. Judo is my significant other. I'll paraphrase Rene Descartes: I Judo, therefore I am.

Probable reason no 3: The SPM/STPM is one of the toughest exams ever created. Other than, of course, those religious primitive hoop ball games where the losing team gets sacrificed to the pagan God. Or the Chinese examinations before communism - examiners locked up in a room for a week. Oh, sorry, I was degressing.

Probable reason no 4: I haven't met her yet? I haven't found the courage to ask?

But yeah, it's true. Girls aren't very high on my list of priorities right now. Another conversation:

Girl 1: Which school are you from?
Me: St Thom.
Girl 1: Really? I thought you were from a co-ed ...
Me (drums fingers on table and narrows eyes): Now really .... What makes you say that?
Girl 1: Urm, no lah, because you're ... err ...
Girl 2: Crazy?

Which is actually quite funny, and it hits the nail right on the head: I have no problem mixing around with girls. It's beyond that scares me, and which I have no care for (if compared to the joys of finally outwitting Tang, that is).

And as I write this I'd like all of you to keep in mind a saying I picked up from some novel: God loves to twist man's declarations and force him back on his words.

Let's hope this doesn't happen too soon here.

My Sensei's Sensei

Is Hirata. To my everlasting awe. He ... let's just say I knew Sensei preferred fighting on the ground (newaza, or pins, chokes and armbars), it being his forte and used in almost all his competitions, even making it to the final of the 1991's Hong Kong open with purely newaza ippons.

But I never knew he learned it from a legend.

This is awesome.



The flip side of it? I (read: a judoka under him) suck at newaza.

St Thomas - Empty

Douglas and Chong has just dropped a bomb on me.

"Eh, when you become Judo club president (or vice president, whichever is cooler), you have fun, kay? Me and Chong leave St Thom."

"What? NO!"

"St Thom sucks." Chong interjected, leaning against the dojo bag racks.

"You see lar - almost everybody leaving St Thom - Ali next year leave for Semenanjung!" Douglas continued, oblivious to Chong's rants.

"What? NO!"

"St Thom sucks like hell."

"Why does St Thom suck?"

"Everything lah - the administration without *this teacher or that teacher*, the discipline too tight like shit like that."

I sat down on the tatami mats, too stunned to say anything (and also probably too out of breath - had sparred earlier with Desmond, who had gained 5kg more muscle from National Service). I felt torn between my loyalty to the school and the fact that my feelings did not apply to this generation. Things were different for them.

The great people at the top were gone, replaced with an administration yet to prove its worth still finding its feet. A lot of the good things that I remembered about St Thomas was gone, leaving me with no grounds on which to argue on. I couldn't pursuade them. The only thing I could think of is the fact that the teachers are mostly the same, caring ones I knew. And this too, is liable to change. Discontent with the leadership at the top will affect performance, no matter how great these teachers are.

Andrew tells me at least half his class is planning to move after the PMR. Ben is moving, he is moving, so is Charlton. An image of an empty classroom, fan spinning lazy circles over the tables and chairs, appeared for a brief moment in my mind's eye.

"Stay lah," I said.

But my words sounded empty even to my ears.

Zewt's Tag

Tell 5 Jokes:
1. Bad spellers of the world, Untie!
2. Start a movement, eat a prune.
3. I want to be Bacchus - the God of wine and merrymaking. And sex.
4. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.
5. If you need time alone, try cleaning the house.

4 Fellas I Adore:
1.Today is Good Friday. Who is it about?
2. William Golding
3. Friends. Define Adore.
4. My dog. Does that count? Define Adore.

3 Animals that represent me:
1. The Snake. Supposedly cunning, slippery, and incidentally the year that I was born in.
2. The Phoenix. Alright, it probably doesn't represent me, but I like the beast.
3. Urm ... The Cat? Sheathed claws and cute furry flicks. Nice.

A for Andrew Ho, who is sitting next to me and complaining about the quality of writing in the IMPAC Dublin essay competition.
B for books, for I love them.
C for my real name, which I will not say.
D is for Dooce, the first Blogger to have been fired over her blog.
E for English, the sole subject I can hammer people with.
F for Freedom, and oft used term in speeches worldwide. *stop being so cynical*
G for g-string, because that isn't cynical.
H for Harry Potter, for he will die.
I for Indigo, a great book for kids.
J for jello, for I've only eaten it once.
K for kolo mee, only found in Kuching.
L for lenglui, because I've no idea what else to say for L.
M for Malaysia - Bolehland
N for Nigger, which Joker is spamming me with at the moment
O for Octopus, or Owlie - and you wouldn't understand this.
P for Pondan, an accepted and oft loved part of St Thomas
Q for Que Avis, a post I wrote a few months back.
R for reverse psychology - don't continue reading this post.
S for Shells, because it's the first thing that popped to mind.
T for Testosterone, ergo above.
U for Under The Bridge, for water past.
V for Vendetta - amazing movie.
W for Wendigo. I've no idea what it means.
X for Xerox, what Americans say when they mean 'fotostat'
Y for Yuck.
Z for Zewt - This is his tag.

I tag: Stephen Chow, Golden Globe, and Road Runner - the first 3 nouns to escape Andrew's mouth. No, they're not bloggers.

Two puppets for luck

I went to St Faith kindy two days ago. There was sunlight on tile, cold cement, but the warmth of a few hundred kids.

"Why is your hair purple?" One of them asked.

It was beautiful to see the kids colouring, talking, jumping up and down on the little coloured chairs at little coloured tables. I was like that once, I thought. Nothing mattered to me, nothing to worry about. The most I needed to think about was What colour should my sky be? I chose blue. Someone else - either Naomi or Cassy - coloured theirs pink.

Perhaps it is the sight of such a pink sky, over a field of pink flowers, that imprinted that everlasting repulsion for pink that I have; that I can't exactly explain.

There were no puppets that day. We wrote a rough script for our puppet show, to be held in the Children's Ward on Easter. At which hospital I'm not really sure. I am to be the Daddy puppet. A strange reversal of roles, I'm sure.

There are still wooden spoons. And there are still discipline chairs.

I sat on one of them, trying to remember how I felt, years back.

And you know what? I found that I can't really remember. We all hold on to our childhoods - the world wasn't so cynical once upon a time, because we weren't aware of it. How nice it would be to go back again.

There was sunlight on tile, cold cement, but the warmth of a few hundred kids. I left that day feeling strange, a fading reminder of how the world seemed to me at age 4.

It was beautiful.