service

service is dead. this is not merely a lament for the lack of service standards in this country, nor the disdain for domestic help. i mean the belief in the true dignity of service, which espouses the notion of a higher calling, an attainment of one's purpose in aid of others, encompassing patience and dedication and reserve. the english butler (but not the comedic stereotype), the giri-bound retinue of a daimyo, the acolyte.

again, not that some people today do not serve others with satisfaction or duty, but, back to belief, the unyielding, unwavering sense of committment to an abstract, the recognition of its nobility, the rigorous restraint of self to the betterment of another - we lost the ideal when we threw out the colonial, mistaking the one for the other.

old man diet

just been told i've been eating old man food, or at least, that my food preferences are heading down that way. consider: teochew porridge specifically with stewed duck neck, backside, bill and feet, fish head of any species (especially when i consider the rest of the fish as remnant to be chucked, like walnut shells or watermelon rinds, in order to get to the head), wild boar meat in jelly (sometimes pork jelly, pork knuckle jelly, or aspic for the uninitiated), chilli preserved tofu (the porridge thing again), stewed pork (with ginger, with black vinegar, with chinese buns, leg or belly, or any other preparation), fish soup with bittergourd, etc.

my defence is the homogeneity of plebian food in the country, driving me to find novel tastes which are still local staples as opposed to either gourmet dishes or foreign cuisine.

phlegmatic

difficult to empathise now sometimes what gets people boiling, critical, fanatic, yearning, contrite or any extreme of emotion or desire. wonder if it has to do with age (the heyday in the blood is tame) but it does seem awfully hard to work oneself up into a singing idol frenzy or cheer at a well-scored goal, or to get road-rage agitated at inconsiderate and sometimes downright dangerous cars, or to feel guilty about neglect of responsibility or about white/black/grey lies, or to tirade at the "system", whatever that may be, or to get too horny or lusting the way it felt at seventeen.

not very friendly, this.

language & communication

anecdotally again, it has been observed that it not just the english language, but the mother tongue languages that are also in decline. one would have thought, like in the past, that a person would be strong in one and weak in the other, affirming the belief that we can only truly master one language. today, it seems that language use is suffering as an overall entity.

paradoxically then, in a world where communication is key to accomplishing almost anything at all, linguistic proficiency has taken a backseat. but then again, perhaps even competency isn't needed for such activity. theorists who believe though, that language determines cognitive facility, are worried. put simply, if we can't talk properly, we become stupid.

decline of english

whilst anecdotal factors cannot be discounted: lack of grammar teaching in school, rise of the internet, sms speak, etc, it seems from a pragmatist viewpoint that language proficiency has simply devolved to the lowest common denominator in terms of usage. in other words, good english isn't acquired or used because good english is not necessary in this society - it is neither needed to communicate with anybody in this country, nor needed to understand the majority of things to be read or watched or viewed, nor even needed for the majority of occupations. it remains to be acquired for its own sake, which is why it has attained perjorative connotations in some circles, and used as a discrimator of status or class in others - a kentang outcast or a linguistic tai-tai. both zeroes on the desirability scale. any wonder then?

english teachers

this comes a little late in response to our education minister's point on the perceived decline in english, the could-be-better language proficiency of local teachers, the hiring of native english speakers, and j devan's perceptive note that the elder devan and others of his time spoke and wrote a much more perfect english despite not having gone to the uni: standards have declined even in the last ten years among the young people i've come in contact with, much less across generations; the supposedly more adept users of the language - teachers, broadcast and print journalists - display a level of usage more cringeworthy precisely because they are what should be our remaining bastions.

more on this tomorrow.

enough

while i fundamentally agree that 'enough' cannot be quantified, it irks me that it is very hard to tell when 'enough is enough'. hard to tell when one has gone to far, or taken something to excess (in order to restrain or withhold). hard to tell for oneself when one has 'had enough' of something or somebody (in order to draw the line).

until it happens.

it seems to me the demarcating line between inaction and action, passivity and provocation. i don't like it when it can only be identified in retrospect, because it gives us no guard, no forecast against what is precisely an inexorable turning point.

house

friend's selling his house. i'm buying mine. he's undoing. i'm redoing. he's making financial plans. i'm making design plans. took the easy way out the last time, because i gave up the house to give up the hassle. but escape is not always an option for the responsible, the obligated, the weary, nor the wise.

this once-more-into-the-breech activity makes me extra-vigilant of my own motives (both energy and ease of escape), and i can only avow to be wiser in the replay.