hello people yet again...

and let me tell you about the wonderful people in Tekong yet again...

come come come...
sit and listen...

so we're out in the hot sun... and all blistering our butts away sitting down listening to this guy talk...
he's supposed teach us all unarmed close combat...

salva me...

so anyway he says...
no wait...
he barks...

"I DO NOT WANT TO FIND ANY HARD OBJECTS ON ANYBODY! OR YOU ALL WILL GET IT!"

so we all scramble and pat around to see if there's any stray...
hmm... i think that he was thinking somewhere along the lines of bricks or parangs...
maybe he thought that we had stuffed our helmets into our pockets...

coming from a person who, arising out of severe mental impediment, and at the same time causing a gramatically horrifying dangling sentence fragment, has inserted a pause in the middle of his sentence...

i dunno...

anyway patting stops...
barking resumes...

"ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T HAVE ANY MORE HARD OBJECTS GENTLEMEN? YOU HAVE TEN POCKETS IN YOUR UNIFORM! GO AND CHECK ALL TEN!"

patpatpatpatpat...

most people just need a few pats... not so much that they need to really check their pockets...
but that most people can... ah...

feel...

well i can't say for Mr. I-Have-To-Be-Heard-In-Bold-Big-Letters...

perhaps unlike most people... his muscles have obscured his nervous system from any external input...
yes Mr. I-Have-To-Be-Heard-In-Bold-Big-Letters... it is possible to feel through the fabric of the uniform if there's anything in your pockets...

try it...

perhaps you won't look like you're trying to get rid of mutant mosquitoes in your uniform the next time you prepare for another lesson...

but here comes his tour de force...

"I DON'T EVEN WANT TO SEE TISSUE PAPER! THAT IS ALSO A HARD OBJECT!"

the collective whap of an entire company of recruits' jaws hitting the floor echoes in the ensuing silence...

notwithstanding of course the fact that 'tissue paper' not being a proper noun requires an article before it...

"YOU KNOW WHY IT'S A HARD OBJECT?"

more silence...
alas... the fool's question has stumped the scholars...

"WHEN YOU SWEAT, THE TISSUE WILL GET WET! THEN WHEN IT DRIES IT WILL BECOME A HARD OBJECT!"

and so it was that we came to cross paths with our instructor...

i personally believe that trolls... the kind with exceptional physical strength and humiliatingly non-existent intelligence do exist...

hey presto...

hello everybody...

let me tell you about the wonderful people i have met on the island of Tekong...

argh...

so we're having physical training in the hall...
which... incidentally... is indoors...

now keep that point in mind... it's important...

so anyway... we're all bored and wanting to be someplace else... when this guy turns around and says to me (in all earnestness... bless him...)

"Why doesn't it rain indoors?"

and all i can do is drop my jaws and focus my eyeballs on him...
gape in shock...

good grief...

where on earth do these people come from...? why is it that in my close to nineteen years on this planet i have never ever met anyone like this...

but there's worse...

so another day... i'm heading for the loo...
and there's another guy in front of me...

he then suddenly and dramatically stops short of the entrance and looks down...

so i look around to see what on earth was that for... and i see a sign saying "watch your step"...

now here's a moment where i pause and think to myself... undoubtedly for not the first time...

where on earth do these people come from...? why is it that in my close to nineteen years on this planet i have never ever met anyone like this...

and it get's worse...
it always does...

so as i'm washing my hands in the washroom the idiot turns to me...
and (argh) he starts talking to me...

"I saw the sign there saying 'watch you step', so i looked down to see if there was a trap! But nothing there!"

whereby i just lose track of what's he saying from shock...
and just smile and scramble madly out of the loo...

argh...

moving on to other stuff...

which for tonight will be a short quote...
but profound...
i like it...

"Which of the two powers, love or music, is able to lift man to the sublimest heights? It is a great question, but it seems to me that one might answer it thus: love cannot express the idea of music, which music may give an idea of love. Why separate the one from the other? They are the two wings of the soul."
- Hector Berlioz (1803-69). French composer.

hello there...
many people have been asking if i'm ok-

yes of course you are! now say "thank you" to all those nice concerned people.

yes... thank you for asking... i'm fine...
well i suppose then i have to explain-

the rather alarming spate of depressing posts recently. hmm, yes you do need to explain all that.

you see now...
the very purpose of this place is to talk about my life-

tsk!

yes how narcissistic i know... live with it...
anyways...
the point is that... well...
life's kinda-

sad-

yes sad... i know...

and thus my posts have been sad...
but no... i'm not depressed...

not clinically anyway...
so don't worry...

and i'm not schizophrenic either... really-

really?

would that voice-

kindly shove it? hmm? now is that what you want?

yes. shut up. before i-

ooh. i'm so scared.
please, you can do better than that.

i think.

well actually now, i'm not very sure you-

argh...

i feel off my rocker...
but just for the heck of it i shall continue this mad internal dialogue...

oh. so now we're trying to look like the poor tortured artist soul.
how pitiful.

there comes a time, about now, when you come to the sudden realization that you've been broadcasting the things you've always thought were just your silent thoughts.

sort of like a Homer Simpson moment.

you can say "d'oh" now.

d'oh.

gosh i need a life now don't i...?

hmm now don't you?

shut up...

oh ok!

grr...

grr...

yes as you all can see i'm terribly bored...

i have also discovered i now have a pathological fear of becoming an idiot...
idiot... in the plainest sense of the word...

i don't even think i'll get a chance for idiot-savant...

thus the need to show that unlike most idiots... i possess the mental capabilities required to process complex, multi-layered thought...

wait...

apologies...
i am not "unlike most idiots"...

i am... quite simply...
not an idiot...

how silly of me...

haha...

haha. nervous laughter ensues.

haha...

argh...

i feel dumb...

and mad.

and mad...

yes mad.

now keep this in mind...

now are you sure you want to go there? haha...
don't lie to yourself.

madness and genius...
close enough for me...

haha...

bow down to my genius...

madness.

hello there...

there are some things in life which make me wonder...

yes yes i know violence and arms are some of them and you all think i'm going to write some long, self-righteous essay on it...
but no...

tonight i shall lower myself to more base affairs... it's time to bitch...

tonight i shall talk about the asshole who loves the army...
better known as The Military Freak...

"... the civilian in me never existed, I guess I was born to be a soldier."

somebody shoot me now... oh wait...
why not get him... then he can train to be the marksman he so wants to be...

anyways...

The Military Freak (MF), not to be confused with the Freak, Regular and Freak, Fitness (ha... but let's just say that certain groups do overlap), is a rare inhabitant of modern society. He is often of above average fitness, and his essential character traits may vary as with all other people, but one trait stands out, that of a devotion to the army and all things military (well duh...).
Having said so, however, one must be careful to make the point known that in most (try all...) cases, the MF possesses base and crude social skills. As such, this is often reflected in a penchant for sport, and as well as a rather, shall we say, variegated vocabulary.
Another point must also be made that most male species of the planet exhibit similar traits at youth. This is often but a passing phase and they should not be unfairly labeled as MF.

One overriding trait of the MF is a disdain for a non-military lifestyle,

"...their civilian mindsets, which means, slow, passive, etc."

This disdain stems from a belief in the superiority of the military and it's tenets, and may or may not be seen so commonly in the speech and writings of the common MF. However, one may also make out the case that the reason this view of military superiority is not seen to be held by all MF would be that not all of them hold the thinking and communication skills necessary for the expression of such thought.

(it would seem now that our subject Freak is of above average intelligence... how lucky...)

A moment of vacillation is often seen as a pivotal point in the lives of such people. This can be seen in lines such as that at the beginning, where the subject MF expresses the acceptance of such a lifestyle, as in the lines below,

"Something in me changed the moment I stepped in.....

*peaceful*....

Feels as if Tekong was where I was ment(sic) to be from the start."

Such expressions and desires can be compared to the complex feelings and emotions of the transgendered. They have often been documented to express a sense of belonging to the opposite sex. This is, of course, seen to a different degree in the case of the MF, who express desire to be part of a lifestyle thoroughly foreign to that which is commonly accepted by society. (oh fine so this is subjective and biased on my part... live with it...)

ok i think i've done enough damage...

i think you all get the point...

i dunno why... i suppose it's a vicious thing... but i keep going to his blog to read...
then i shiver uncontrollably and hastily close the window when i've read a few lines...

and oh by the way... none of those lines have been fabricated... it's all straight and unadultered from his blog...

of which i naturally shall not disclose... we should not be poking fun at poor deluded people should we...

i even wanted to get a few lines showcasing his command of the cruder side of the English language but i decided against it lest it taint the sanctity of my blog...

of course there's plenty more to say... but really... most of it is just wordless ravings on my part...

it involves plenty of arm-waving before the monitor as i read his words...
and cringing... there's a lot of that too...

seriously... i really wonder where these people come from... i mean... this guy had some seriously bad experiences in the army... he's dealt amply with that in his posts... yet he still seems to regard it as such a positive experience...

now i understand that negative experiences can be life-changing and thus positive...

but still...
get a life...

hello everybody...

happy holidays...
the feeling of being back on mainland is...
well...

euphoric bliss...

observe while i enjoy it...

ahh...

anyways... i have a long stretch to enjoy starting now to sunday...

and i'm off to enjoy it...

yes yes there's much to say and long verbose posts to put up to convince myself and all of you that i haven't lost it but that all can wait...

for now...

nonactivity beckons...

hello there everybody...

i'm back for the night... came down with a fever this morning...
will be going back in tomorrow evening...

ah...i suppose there's one thing i gained from army... a newfound appreciation of the little comforts that we all take for granted...
like tv and chocolates... for example...
like my own bed...
and the chance to laze around...
how i miss lazing around...

in addition to a splitting headache and an overwhelming sense of vertigo... it seems i also have a bad case of writer's block...

ah well...

i think i'd better go space out in front of the tv...

i daresay it's therapeutic...

the most spectacular display of stars that i have ever seen in this country... a night sky for once unhindered by any light of man...

and i have to witness such beauty accompanied by the horrific bark of rifles...

there are places where man's influence is subtle, insiduous... here, little sign of man's corrupting touch upon nature can be seen... save for the small coastal area that bridges the island with the mainland...
yet it is also here that man's indomitable spirit is manifest...
it is within these shores that i have come to witness the spirit of conquest... the pursuit of power...

and the lengths to which we as a race can go to achieve that...

hello everybody...

well i thought at first that blogging from camp would be a good idea...
yes... sorta like fresh inspiration from the activities (read:shit) i'm going through yes...

but well...

if i write exactly what i feel sitting here in the bunk...
eveybody can just go visit me in jail...

haha very funny yes... if there's one thing good about the past few weeks i think it's the sardonic humour that i seem to have acquired...
otherwise known as dry, pessimistic wit...

oh yes... before i forget...
to all those poor souls joining me in this barbarous isle...
Welcome!

so shoot me...

come let me prepare you for all the arguments presented... sometimes rather puerilely.... by the people here...
and so the big question is...
why are you here...?

model answer:

It's not the government, it's not your parents, and it's not society.
It's yourself.
At the end of the day, the reason why you are here is simply that you will come to fulfil your calling as a defender of the nation. You will defend the nation and ensure the safety of the people you love. In essence, you may feel nothing for the country, but it is for those you love that you will fight.

how very lovely, patriotic and touching...
everybody look at me... i'm spouting propaganda...

(note to self: please review next section... potentially incriminating content...)

hello...? knock knock...?

there's this little thing known as the Constitution...
yes...?

and by some chance of fate i had to be born just one degree north of the equator...
and thus i am bound...

i quote, "did the government point a rifle to your head and make you serve? No!"

excuse me...? Enlistment Act...?

well maybe a rifle isn't in the picture but the prospect of fines, jails and time in detention barracks comes pretty darn close in my opinion...

am i resistant to propaganda...?
well actually no... true propaganda would capture my attention and win my support...
but well... true propaganda also had a touch of subtlety within it...

and screaming at the top of your voice, "loyalty to country" everytime the whole platoon takes a drink is...
well...
anything but subtle...

ah i think i've raved enough for the day...
oh yes... i'm writing all this down frantically between training sessions... i hope this output of mine will keep my mental faculties intact...

the Jester shall yet sing again...

'ello there everybody...

i have seven hours and forty-five minutes before i go back in...
what a sobering thought...

ah well... suddenly everything doesn't seems so bad after all...

let's see now... i'm three weeks into this thing... which means i'm out in ten weeks time...
and the next thing to look out for after that is the tenth of december 2006...

we all need to hope now don't we...

bwahaha...

and look on the bright side... by the time i'm out there's throngs of people who are going in...
who i can point at and laugh...

yes i feel so evil...

ah whatever...
i'll be off to get some rest...

i dunno if it works that way but i sure hope sleep can be accumulated and stored...
and used in times of dire need...

like tomorrow...

bwahaha...