Aching Head

I suddenly found myself with a headache, somewhat inexplicably, so I popped two panadols, with coke (I hope that isn't a bad combination in any way, I know panadol with alcohol is not a good idea). I also made myself some chicken and vegetable soup, following the old maxim that chicken soup cures all ills, though mine was of the canned Marks and Spencer's variety and thus probably lacking in any regenerative function. I probably made it worse by zapping it in the microwave instead of simmering it over the fire in a pot.

After all that, I feel quite a bit better (it being 2am now). Not that it has helped my productivity much at all. To give my addled brain a rest (addled from what you may well ask, quite fairly), I browsed a book called "know it all" which is an intriguing quest of one man to read through the whole of the Encyclopedia Britannica, which I am sad to say is actually a personal quest which I shall fulfill one day (beats reading through the bible, which is like so passe and so much less of a challenge!). More on all of this later.

Tomorrow is a new day. I need to be more productive tomorrow. I am going to go to bed now and hope for a fresh start.

Lake District

I had promised a post about my adventures in the Lake District, and so I now belatedly comply. I went to the lake district immediately from my recording of Mastermind in Leeds. I woke up late the next morning which was probably due to a combination of stress, tiredness and the fact that me, Barry and his friends (including his daughter no less who was older than me!) sat in the hotel bar drinking and commiserating till past twelve.

To say it was an adventure getting to the lakes would be a mild understatement. I had to travel to Windemere via Manchester which meant a one and a half hour wait at Manchester to catch the train I needed. I got bored and went to browse at WH Smith's where I ended getting intrigued by a book on Sir Roger Mortimer, who was de facto ruler of England between the reigns of Edward II and Edward III and who was supposedly the man responsible for killing Edward II. The nature of Edward II's supposed death is too great an anecdote to resist telling, so I shall permit myself a brief digression here. Apparently, Edward II was killed by having a red hot poker shoved up his anus, at least according to popular legend. The means of his death was not just sadistic - aparently it was chosen due to the fact that his killers did not want there to be any visable mark left on his exterior. The chronicles are quite specific as to the fact that the kind died, but of course the manner of his passing remains open to speculation. The legend of the red hot poker is, admittedly, almost too good to resist.

Anyhow, things got far more interesting once I arrived in Windemere. Only then did I realize that I had left the piece of paper on which the travel details and hostel information had been written on the train. I could vaguely remember that the town I was supposed to go to ended in "-thwaite" and so I tromped over to the tourist office to check out a map and ask for directions. Seeing "Braithwaite" on the map, and thought that was the place I had to go to and was directed there accordingly. What followed was a wonderful bus ride to a little town in the middle of the lake district called Keswick, though tremendously scenic terrain. We passed clue blue lakes and forest bordering snow topped hills on either side. It was quite breathaking.

Now I get to the adventurous bit. I arrived in Keswick to change buses, and was pleasantly suprised to find the bus to Braithwaite there, so I hopped right on. It was only when I arrived at the town, and a local I bumped into expressed doubt that there was a youth hostel nearby, that I suspected something was amiss. I was pointed down some road, and happily walked down for it for 15 minutes or so when I decided something was definitely wrong. In the end I had to call DT to access my email account for me (where the original hostel details were stored) while I went over to the local pub to ask for assistance. What I discovered was that I was in the wrong town and that I was meant to go to Rostwaite and not Braitwaite and that the former was was 5 miles north of Keswick, while the latter was 2 miles south. What was a greater cause for panic was that the next bus back to Keswick was only due in an hour, which would mean I would arrive in Keswick past 8pm, and that there would be no more buses to Braitwaite. Just then, a couple at a table in the bar, hearing of my predicament, offered me a lift.

Things got even better when I received a phone call from my friends in the hostel. I had tried vainly to reach them on their mobiles, but I couldn't get through, and I only realized later how lucky I was - the simple reason being that there was no reception at the hostel. I was saved due to the fact that I had spoken to Ben the evening before, and told him that I was due to arrive around 6pm, and if not, something would be amiss. It being coming close to seven he decided to call to check in on me using the pay phone at the hostel (despite the outrageous BT phone rates). In the end, Fiona wonderfully agreed to drive down to pick me up at Keswick, while also doing a bit of grocery shopping in the process.

The next morning, we awoke to a wonderfully clear day, practically perfect for hiking. The plan was to drive about two miles to a place called Honigger Pass, where there was parking next to a slate mine, and set off from there. We planned to ascend from there and then head over to Green Gable and Great Gable and ascend those to, if possible, before heading back. The climb itself was invigorating, and probably made even more exciting by the conditions. It was rather cold for this time of year and that meant that there was still quite a large amount of snow on the hills. The snow itself was frozen solid over the night, making the ascent difficult and slippery. If not for the fact that other people had climbed our route before, leaving large holes in the frozen snow we could use, as well as the fact that there was a fence that we were following up, things would have been a great deal more tricky.

Two definite things stand out. One, we passed by a frozen bit of water, and after testing it out with the ice axe I had carried along and certifying that it was frozen very solidly, we proceeded to go for a bit of skating on the surface while stopping for lunch. Another bit was the impromptu sliding down the snow that soon began, which soon turned into toboganning of sorts with the bright orange plastic survival bags as tobogan.

The weather itself was perfectly clear, and the sun was out in full force. There were hardly any clouds at all. I admit to feeling amazed at the wonderful weather, quite unlike anything I had expected. Certainly, I hoped there would be no rain, but not in my wildest dreams did I expect to confront clear skies and bright sunshine. We continued from the frozen pond where we had also stopped for lunch, towards Green Gable. The ascent up Green Gable itself was not much of a challenge, with a well marked trail to follow, and less slippery conditions. Upon reaching the summit however, we decided not to attempt Great Gable, which looked far steeper and a bit foreboding, let alone with the snowy conditions and proceeded to head back to the hostel.

The next day again brough pretty clear weather, though it was a bit windier. We chose a different route this time consisting of a hike for about 3 miles followed by ascending a hill and following the ridge line before descending at a tow path and then hiking back to the hostel. The view from the top of the hill was quite wonderful, overlooking as it were a huge area of lakes, hills, valleys, dotted with small farms and little towns. I was quite surprised at how far up we had come (around 800 metres) and the fact that you are never quite aware of the distince whilst you are ascending, only when you reached the top. The last section of the climb was again through a broad expanse of snow dotted with boulders and it was quite stunning.

The beauty of it was sense of overwhelming wonder, the sheer magnitude of nature itself. One person remarked that up where we were, thoughts of University, of impending exams and everything else vanished, almost as if they had never existed. In fact, these petty concerns of life seemed completely insignficant and all that held meaning were the sun, the sky, the snow, the mountains surrounding us and the majesty of nature itself.

Highly Unproductive Day, Condi and Iraq

Woke up late again and pottered around. Got a bite to eat and starting surfing a bit on the net as per normal. Got a phone call from home which was nice - I don't call home often enough and I guess it is only right that I let my parents know that I am still alive.

No idea where most of the evening went. Organized the piles of International Relations notes that have accumulated in my room, and read an article, but that was the sum of what I managed. Listened to Condolezza Rice make a speech on BBC online from Blackburn of all places, where she admitted to the US making 'tactical errors' in Iraq, though defending the overall US policy to invade. I claim that it was relevant to what I am studying, albeit indirectly, particularly in the topic of Democratic Peace Theory. Proponents of Democratic Peace claim that democracies tend to have a special relationship with other democracies, reducing their likelihood of going to war against each other. Realists claim that this is inherently false. The relevance here is that one of the foremost justifications for the war in Iraq was 'regime change' and the Bush administration seems to suggest that one major long term US goal is to encourage the growth of freedom in the region, specifically through the process of democratization.

The problem with that is two fold. Firstly, some IR scholars have shown that countries in the process of democratization are likely to be more unstable in terms of their relations with other states that full dictatorships or full democracies. Second, there is an important difference between a democracy and a liberal democracy as outlined by Fareed Zakaria - a democracy taken loosely merely means a country whose government is brought about through free, fair and representative elections. This has been brought to the limelight by the Palestian elections which were won by Hamas. The US might not want to admit it, but Ahmadenijad, the current Iranian president, who is threatening to develop nuclear weapons for Iran, was elected to his position, even if the elections were not fully democratic. Finally, scholars have also suggested that building basic infrastructure is not enough to bring about significant change and that it will take decades for liberal democratic change to take root, if ever.

Well I had decided to stay at home today and try and study, which was an easier option considering the amount of books and materials that I would have to cart around otherwise. Having realized the futility of this option, it is back to the library for me tomorrow.

Me and Hair

What prompts this random entry is actually a nice little piece of trivia I picked up on. One of the common rants I have had is how the Singaporean army forces us to cut our hair, and will do so even when we report back for reservist training as effectively private citizens. Poor family members and friends have had to listen to me rage on about the gross violation of my civil liberties that this represented. I challenged the army to give evidence that having long hair will limit the combat effectiveness of soldiers and would lead to them being more susceptible to being killed in battle.

Well, aparently all they needed to do was turn, as always, to the good book. Absalom, is remembered as the rebellious son of King David, who led an army against his own father, and for the tearful lament that David cried at finding his body: "Absalom, my son my son, would God that I died for thee, my son!", which incidentally was used movingly at the end of Orson Scott Card's novel Ender's Shadow. But back to the point: Absalom got himself killed because his rather long locks were entangled in the branches of an oak tree, and whilst he was struggling thus entrapped, the enemy commander thrust three spears through his heart. Perhaps it does pay to have short hair after all.

Horrible Weather

The weather has been absolutely miserable of late, what with overcast skies and frequent afternoon showers. It has been really windy as well and the rain has isn't just the usually British dripping rain but the kind which absolutely pisses down. The bad weather (and to be fair a bit of laziness) has meant that I have been taking the bus into town recently. To be fair, cycling in strong wind in not on my list of fun things to do, particularly when the wind tends to come at right angles to the direction in which you are cycling as it does in Oxford. Having it rain just compounds the problem.

Yes, spring has most certainly arrived. At least the British variety. As Chaucer noted, in the opening lines of the Canterbury Tales: when that April, with his shoures soote, the droghte of March hath perced to the roote

And Now, The End is Near

It was an exceedingly domestic day after I slept in far too late again! This is becoming a terrible habit which must be overcome - namely setting the alarm clock for 9 or 10am only to lie in bed in a kind of half doze for 2 hours more. I guess that is one of the surest signs of not possesing sufficient self discipline - not being able to get out of bed when you are supposed to.

I have just realized that effectively I have one week per paper remaining in terms of revision time. That is not including practice papers. That has really caused me to enter a stage of severe panic. The one good point is that if I start intensive work NOW I can just about salvage the situation. I can only rue the fact that I was pottering about for the whole of the last TWO MONTHS not being productive in the least, reading lots of random books and so on. I guess I can only remark that it is a good thing that I am managing to pull myself together.

Decided that the best place to begin was at home, so I cleared up the room, putting lots of my books away and trying to create an area around my desk that was far more condusive to studying. I am amazed at how the little things do matter quite a bit, like having a certified work area that is inviting to do stuff in. I then packed away lots of my books, making space for academic stuff and had a good go at sorting out the remaining loose bits of paper. I even swept up the room. I intend to do laundry tonight to top it all off.

The grand plan is to do one paper per week as follows:

This Week: International Relations
Next Week: International Relations in the Era of the Two World Wars
Week 3: International Relations in the Cold War
Week 4: Political Sociology
Week 5: Middle East Politics
Week 6: Ethics
Week 7: Political Theory
Week 8: Knowledge and Reality
Week 9: Start of the Exams

This has come from the fact that I attempted to start revision previously with the papers that I had most disliked, which did not work at all. Hopefully now, starting with the 3 international relations papers which I had enjoyed, I will be able to build up some form of momentum towards the examinations.

Another thing to note: I am desperately short of practice writing essays under timed conditions. I will have to work very hard towards addressing that as soon as I possibly can.

I must admit that this is a period of time where everything seems very uncertain. I have even seriously considered the D word, and was considering speaking to the academic advisor in order to find out options with regards to that.

I have also been looking into the possibility of staying another year in Oxford, but anything taken in that direction will have to wait till after finals.

The cliche is that it is never too late to begin. I shall take that to heart. That, and hope and pray.

Quiet Day, A Review of Blink

Another quiet day today. Slept in a bit after talking to DT on MSN Messenger early this morning. She is off in Colorado attending a conference and having a short break at the same time. Woke up, and did some reading for revision while also listening to the Manchester Utd vs Birmingham City match on the internet Radio Five Live.

Walked over to Summertown where I decided to have dinner at Joe's restaurant. I had previously been to Joe's but the branch down Cowley Road with DT and her two friends who had so kindly donated many of their household stuff (lamps, futon etc.) to us before we left. Had a quiet pint at the Dew Drop Inn at Summertown while also watching the football highlights and finishing up a book I was reading called Blink by Malcolm Gladwell (more on that later). Pottered home, surfed the net for a bit, read a bit and went to bed. I am becoming positively domestic. Perish the thought.

Blink by Malcolm Gladwell is a fascinating book, examing the myriad situations where subconcious thinking takes place. Apparently, our brains help us to make decisions instinctively at split second speed, below the level of concious thought. Gladwell examines this in lots of wonderfully enthralling ways, which is the key strength of this book, from art experts examining a Greek sculpture and knowing instinctively that something is wrong with it, thought they are not necessarily able to explain rationally exactly what is amiss, to an experiment with two sets of cards, whereby one pack was far more beneficial in helping the person win than another which showed that the body showed negative reactions to the red pack (increased sweat, avoidance of drawing red cards) after just 10 cards had been drawn, whereas the brain was only able to establish a concious pattern that the blue pack was better after about 60 draws.

Gladwell examines this notion of subconcious thinking and numerous fascinating psychological studies that have been done looking into this phenomenon. He looks at not just how it is beneficial, but also how it has a negative aspect. In the latter case, he looks at studies revealing our intrinsic mental associations with race and gender, and how this often has certain positive and negative connotations. Furthermore, he examines how in certain situations, having too much information can actually be highly detrimental to decision making, looking at examples ranging from US army simulations, medical diagnosis for heart disease to problem solving experiments.

What was even scarier in my view was his examination of how human beings can be "primed". Specifically, a psychologist gave several volunteers a simple word problem game. However, within that game, there were two several sets of words, seperated into two seperate groups. One group was given words associated with aggression and another group words associated with acceptance and mild politeness. The people undergoing the word problem game were then asked to approach a member of the research staff, who just happened to be chatting to another research assistant. The test was to see whether the priming for "aggresiveness" and the priming for "politeness" would have an effect on how long/in what manner they would interrupt the conversation. A cap of 10 minutes was placed on the experiment. As is to be expected, many of the volunteers primed with the aggresive tendency interrupted well before 10 minutes. What was more startling was that of the other group almost nobody interrupted the conversation before the time expired. In fact, not a single person did.

The above is just one example of the many fascinating studies that Gladwell uses as examples in his book. Other aspects of thought that he looks at is how our brains responds and focuses under severe stress, and indeed a fascinating chapter on our emotions, how they are expressed facially and indeed the very fact that facial expressions themselves have an effect on emotions and not just vice versa.

All I can say in sum is that Gladwell's book is fascinating, filled with insight, and most concisely written and powerfully written. I can only highly recommend it.

Mastermind

I have spent the past week or so away from Oxford which accounts for the lack of recent entries. Monday, 20th March was spent recording Mastermind, probably one of the most challenging and prestigious quiz shows of all time. Tuesday was spent travelling from Leeds, where the studios was located, to the lake district, where I spent the next two days hiking. Friday was spent travelling back to Oxford. Several of my friends have been rather curious as to the entire Mastermind experience, so this entry will concentrate on that, with a seperate entry on my experience hiking in the lakes.

First of all, what is Mastermind? Contrary to what some of my Singaporean friends think, it is not a televised version of the board game where you have to guess the right colour and order of little pips - I would like to think it is rather more difficult than that. In short it is a quiz show, consisting of 4 contenders (never contestants, also referred to on occasion as "willing victims") and two rounds. In the first round, contenders have two minutes to answer as many questions as they can on a specialist subject of their choice. In the second round they have two minutes on a set of general knowledge questions. Questions are written such that each contender will be able to answer the same number in the 2 minutes, and you are not allowed to interrupt the host in the middle of a question, but must wait until he has completed the question before answering.

The program is famous for both it's ominous theme music and for a black leather chair, in which contenders sit whilst answering the questions. It does look rather daunting on television, as a single spotlight shines on the individual sitting in the chair, with the rest of the studio dimmed in the background. Talk about being put on the spot. The first common question that I am asked, quite naturally is: what is it like sitting in the chair? Is it comfortable? Well, to answer the latter question, it s not bad as black leather chairs go, but it is not quite as comfortable as it could be, mainly due to the fact that they have to put a rectangular shaped microphone device in your back pocket, which pokes into your back when you lean into the chair, something that the producers of the show ask you to do. Of course, first sitting in the chair, you do feel rather nervous, something that was definitely heightened by having to walk up to it. In fact the conception for the show came about from the experiences that it's creator had as a prisoner of war when he served in world war II as a fighter pilot, thus the famous: Name, Occupation, Specialist Subject questions you are asked when you first sit in the chair (rather like name, rank, serial number in an interrogation).

Some have also asked me why on earth I would want to do it, as in, subject myself to such an ordeal, specifically running the risk of embarassing myself on television in front of friends and family and the like. Of course, many are also interested in how I came to be on the show in the first place. Well, as my close friends will know, I am a quiz fiend: I love quizzes, and general knowledge, I love the feel of getting an answer right, and the adrenaline rush. It is just something I inexplicably enjoy. Mastermind, is the rolls royce of quizzes, probably the most prestigious of the whole lot, just to be able to make an appearance on it is a great honour. As to how I got on the show, the Mastermind team came round Oxford and held an audition for prospective candidates, where they interviewed you and asked you twenty questions, and on the strength of that, I was chosen.

I have to say the experience itself was wonderful - the hotel was a traveller's hotel, but pretty nice all the same, and there was a buffet for the contestants and their guests as the studios itself. I found myself up against three rather older contestants - a 35 year old person living in Wales whose specialist subject was the life and work of Woody Allen; Barry who looked to be in his late 50s or early 60s who was doing the Napoleanic Wars, and Alison, who worked as an education officer who was doing the life and works of Nevil Shute. It soon transpired that the three of us guys had mostly decided to do the show on a whim - the famous "it seemed a good idea at the time" reason for deciding to give it a go; but Alison looked quietly confident, indeed one had the general feeling that she had done this all before. Everyone was really friendly once we had been introduced and gone for makeup and wardrobe as so on and it was nice to see that nobody was taking things too seriously.

As for the show itself, things went far better that I had anticipated in my specialist subject round. I had chosen the NBA Basketball finals from 1985 to 2005 in the anticipation that not many people would know all that much about it. That had the advantage that it was likely to be accepted as a specialist subject and further to that, questions were liable to be easier than for other possible specialist subjects. It was a relief that the gamble paid off: the questions were really not that difficult by Mastermind standard, and most of the answers could have been gleaned off a simple list of what teams had won the finals, the runner-ups and who was the most valuable player. It was a relief due to the fact that I had only really started mugging up for it two days before the show. One annoying thing was that I had printed off a set of reports from sports illustrated on the NBA finals for the full 20 year time span, only to realize belatedly on the train that the margins had cut off the last bit of text on the right side of every single page. In the end, I got 10 points, thought I made simple errors on 3 of the questions, which I put down to stress. So it perhaps should have been 13. My successful gamble was evidenced by the questions on the Napoleanic Wars and on Woody Allen which seemed quite a bit harder to me.

That said, I completely came a cropper on the general knowledge section, scoring a disappointing 4 points. It all seemed to start so well when I got a question on Yassir Arafat for my first question, but I was completely flummoxed by a number of questions, such as what the computer language COBALT stood for among others. Most embarassing was that on my last question I was asked who starred as the heroine in King Kong, following in the footsteps of Fay Wray, and for the life of me the answer couldn't come to mind, despite my having seen the film and knowing that I knew the answer. That meant a rather uncomfortable silence of about 10 seconds before I gave up to be told that it was Naomi Watts. In the end, things were hardly close. Barry finished on 13 points (5 + 7), I had 14 points (10 + 4), and after a storming general knowledge round where he got some tought answers, the other guy pipped me for second with 16 (8 + 8). Alison however won rather convincingly, with a total of 23 points (14 + 9). I don't know whether to be happy that the margin was so wide - at least I can claim that she was just too good for the rest of us.

So all in all, a very exciting and interesting experience, which I am not likely to forget soon. As an endnote, I might perhaps add that I may not be in the country to watch myself on television, thus sparing myself any further embarrassment. If anyone will be around, and willing to tape it for me, it would be very kind, however. I don't know when it will be broadcast yet, but I suspect sometime this October or Novemeber. Keep your eyes peeled.

Losing Time

Today marks the end of Daylight Savings Time in the United Kingdom, which means that the clocks have to be turned one hour back sometime after midnight.

I find it rather distressing that I am losing one hour in such a manner, having it disappear into thin air as such. It is rather different from a displacement one gets from taking long distance airflights, where the time change can be rationalized from the very real fact that you are in a completely different location with corresponding changes in climate, culture and so on. This feels like just having an hour vanish into thin air. I probably shouldn't complain seeing that I had one free hour last October.

This reminds me about how intriguing and indeed slightly unnerving it was having to undergo a shift in daylight patterns while in the UK. Singapore being close to the equator, I was quite used to having 12 hours of daylight everyday, with sunset and sunrise around 7.15am and pm respectively. In the UK of course, the sun sets around 4.30 in winter, and as late as 9pm in the summer. I recall missing dinner in hall one evening because I had totally lost track of the time - I associate dinner back home with the evening darkness, and it was still bright and sunny outside my window then. Even now I am still slightly perturbed by it. It is interesting that this, more than the change in temperature is what seems to affect many Singaporean and Malaysians whilst in the UK.

One can only wonder at the manpower cost it must take to change the time on all the clocks in the country, particularly in Oxford, where each college has large tower clocks and countless others. Not to say that Oxford isn't finicky about time. Christ Church College famously refused to adopt Greenwich Mean Time as the official standardized time across the UK (in the past time was independent of local boundaries). Thus, instead of ringing the bells to summon the undergraduates and to signal the closing of the main gate, which was traditionally done at 9pm, on the hour, they chose to do so at 9.05pm, which was the original time difference from Oxford to London. It must come as to a relief that they, and indeed no other college in Oxford, has resorted to such shennanigans with regards to daylight savings time.

Johari Window

I have found a rather interesting site which seeks to examine an individual's personality awareness. Basically the idea is that there is a 5 by 11 grid with boxes containing different adjectives. The individual chooses 5 or 6 words which he thinks best describes himself. He then asks others to choose the 5 or 6 words which they think best describes him. The result is that you are able to compare the difference between how you view yourself and of course how various individual's view you.

Please do contribute to my own Johari Window. You can access my results from the link that I have given.

Firefly

I recently purchased the full DVD boxed set of the complete episodes from the short lived Sci-Fi Western Firefly. The series first came to my attention after I watched the movie spin off called Serenity at the cinema, which I felt was probably the best science fiction film I had seen in the last 3 or 4 years (move over George Lucas!).

Though I feel slightly guilty for splashing out 18 pounds for it, I must say that the episodes have been brilliant, and it absolutely baffles belief that they cancelled the series after only 12 episodes have been filmed. I can only feel completely aggrieved and outraged, as many fans have before me - apparently the movie came about due to strong DVD sales of the original series which continues to fly off the shelves.

Part of the anger lies in the outright mess that 20th Century Fox made in terms of publicizing the series initially, leading to poor ratings. They refused to show the pilot episode, because they felt it was "inappropriate" as a first episode, leading to chronological discontinuities and the fact that viewers were not given appropriate introductions as to the background of the respective characters. The time slot the show was given was also not ideal for a series of this nature.

All I can say is that Firefly is absolutely brilliant and is a must see for any science fiction fans, or just anyone looking for an intelligent, beautifully designed television series. The sets, effects and costumes on the show are amazing for a start, not to mention the fact that the concept itself is original and quite striking. Definitely one not to be missed

Syriana and Others

I went to see Syriana today with Damien, having heard mixed things about it - that it was an interesting examination of oil and the Middle East, and that it was very covulated and complex plot wise. I wanted to reserve judgement seeing that films about the Middle East often lapse into cliche, but was keen to catch it given my interest in the region having done a paper in Middle East politics.

The movies had several interweaving plot strands - that of two oil companies who are undergoing investigation after a shady merger, a veteran CIA operative who finds himself abandoned by the agency after an operation goes wrong, the power struggle between two heir apparents as an old Emir is ailing and the most touching of all, that of a Pakistani migrant worker who is out of work in the Gulf and how he is slowly brought into the confidence of radical Islamists.

All in all, without giving too much of the plot away, it was a very refreshing and rather brutally honest look at the Middle East region, particularly given the themes of American independence in oil and American security concerns. It outlines, albeit in rather black and white terms, that American operates on a level of stark hypocrisy, preaching the goals of democratization, women's rights, civil liberties on the one hand, whilst manouvering against any elements that threaten US Oil and Security interests on the other. This is made most explicitly clear in the movie by the cynicism of showing oil barons who are simultaneously members of the Free Iran Organization. Given US involvement in the region in the 20th century, the film hardly does an injustice.

The most interesting plot line in my mind however, was that of the Pakistani migrant worker. It highlights one of the fundamental problems that face many Middle Eastern regimes, namely a combination of ailing economies (Saudi Arabia's per capita GNP has fallen from 12,000 to 6,000 US dollars per head), specifically rising unemployment, and an enormously large portion of the population aged between 16 and 25. There is certainly a fear that youth, disillusioned with the lack of opportunities, will be far likelier to fall into any means of finding a form of stable identity, making them all the more susceptible to the message of radical islamists. Migrant itinerant labour that are not granted any of the social benefits or even the remote likelihood of citizenship pose an equal or great threat as represented by the character in the movie who is a Pakistani migrant oil worker.

One interesting aspect of the movie was the parallel that was drawn between George Clooney's CIA character and the Pakistani suicide bomber. One of the senior shady figures dealing dirty in the oil business tells Clooney that he has been nothing but a puppet, used by others for goals which he was not even aware of. It is thus interesting that he meets a similar end to the suicide bomber - the parallel - that the both of them were used, albeit by different sides - is striking.

Syriana is a complex portrait of the modern Middle East situation that sometimes verges close to caricature. The elements - from corrupt big oil companies, to CIA geopolitical maneouvering, to the whole stereotype of rich Arabs living it up and squandering petro-dollars are all there. It is perhaps forgivable to a degree that everything is generalized, if only because the ultimate goal is to paint a wider picture of US involvement in the region as a whole. In that, I personally feel the film is much needed and a welcome addition indeed.

I Don't Want To Live On The Moon

Here are the lyrics to one of my all time favourite sesame street songs and a link for the audio version of it. Listening to it gives such a strong sense of nostalgia, still enough to bring a tear to my eye....

I Don't Want To Live On The Moon

Well, I'd like to visit the moon
On a rocket ship high in the air
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon
But I don't think I'd like to live there
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon
I don't want to live on the moon

I'd like to travel under the sea
I could meet all the fish everywhere
Yes, I'd travel under the sea
But I don't think I'd like to live there
I might stay for a day there if I had my wish
But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish
And an oyster and clam aren't real family
So I don't want to live in the sea

I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar
Go back in time and meet a dinosaur
There's so many strange places I'd like to be
But none of them permanently

So if I should visit the moon
Well, I'll dance on a moonbeam and then
I will make a wish on a star
And I'll wish I was home once again
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go I'll be coming home soon
'Cause I don't want to live on the moon
No, I don't want to live on the moon


idontwanttoliveonthemoon.mp3 (audio/mpeg Object)

Varsity Match Victory

Saturday marked the first time in three years that Oxford and Cambridge met for a varsity match in Quizzing. The match was played University Challenge style with a total of 26 starters and 24 bonuses, whichever to run out first. I was selected to represent the 'B' or 'reserve' team along with Samantha Warnakulasuriya, Brian Danielak and Mark Wilson, who captained by virtue of being the society president. Ben Fletcher captained the main team, and Peter Baker, Andy Wells and Michael Levy comprising the other members, all of them being selected on the basis of their sterling performance in the Inter-College Quiz. Max Kaufmann and Gail Trimble, two other outstanding ICQ performer were sadly not able to take part.

The B match was extremely close throughout, with the lead never extending beyond 40 points for either side, and at the half way and close to two third points we trailed Cambridge by 10 point each time. I got quite a few early questions, notably on J M Coetzee off the first few words, once his novel "Dusklands" had been mentioned, and another quick fire one off of "Curling" which I had incidentally set a question on recently. I also got a starter on the Ho Chi Minh trail, ages after I should have buzzed in. Sam was also having a very good match, keeping us afloat in the middle section with a series of very good interruptions, though she was rather annoyed at herself to incorrectly interrupt a question on medieval english history when the answer was Richard I or the Lionheart. One of my main sore points was not being able to get a question on John Profumo, who's obituary I had read the day before, despite obviously knowing the answer. In the end, we survived to prevail 240 - 215, with Brian pulling a fantastic science answer off the top of his head in the 3rd to last starter, before negging on the last two questions. Thankfully, the other team failed to get the final starter, despite our worst fears, and we held on to prevail.

The main team match was an even closer run thing, though it didn't look the case at the beginning. The scores were 120 to 5 to Cambridge after 10 questions with the Cambridge team looking very impressive indeed with a number of very quick interruptions. Oxford soon began to claw it's way back into the match however, with Michael Levy getting a few starters in a row, and eventually drew near to level pegging more than three quarters way through. Things remained close until the final starter question which was on formula one, which Peter Baker got correct to give Oxford a 240 - 225 victory.

After that, it was time for the committee quiz whick Rob, the question master blitzed through in around 15 minutes on account of Cambridge having a bus to catch. We led after around 10 questions but soon faded as Nazarian, who had been the best player on the Cambridge 'A' team, single handedly blitzed our committee team which consisted of me, Sam, Mark and our new president Krishna.

All in all a fantastic day of quizzing which was amplified by a trip to the pub afterwards, followed by dinner at Ask and wine at Samantha's room before heading over to a pub near St Aldates were we met up with Brian again. Afterwards, my memory of the evening becomes rather dim and hazy and not altogether distinct, and I have DT to thank for the piecing together of the rest of the evening, and for a place to crash at night, which I do with no certain amout of sheepishness. A fitting end then, to quizzing for the term.

Two Movies

In the past two days I went to see Good Night and Good Luck and Capote respectively, both nominated for the Best Picture Award at the recent Oscars. This means that I have seen all 5 of the movies that have been nominated by the award.

Good Night and Good Luck is a wonderful movie. One movie commented that "they don't make movies like this anymore" which is all but a cliche in modern Hollywood context, harkening back as is a habit in anything towards the good old days, but for this movie it could not be more true. It was not just that it was shot in black and white, the first movie since The Elephant Man in 1982 to be done entirely and to be nominated for the Best Picture award (Schindler's List in 1994 was shot predominantly in black and white, but has a small, devastatingly haunting glimpse of colour - look it up if you are not sure what I mean). It was the whole tone and feel of the movie. This was a movie driven by its characters, with a wonderful ensemble cast, simple, realistic and unpretentious. David Straitharn is probably one of the most overlooked actors working in the field today, and his performance in the movie as the broadcaster Edwin Murrow was completely spot on.

What made the movie personally intriguing for me was the close glimpse that it offered of broadcast journalism in its heyday, and of course that of the broader historical context of America in the early 1950s particularly that of McCarthyism and the communist witch hunt. The historical footage was melded seamlessly into the movie as a whole and was a masterstroke - indeed the effect was so powerful that early audience screenings brought the feedback that "the actor portraying McCarthy was overacting" - with the audience not realizing at first that he was portraying himself.

There is no doubt at all that this movie is a "message" movie, and its message is not only crystal clear, but one that, in my humble opinion, does need to be heeded. It is that there remains an important place within journalism for educating the public, for bringing to light abuses of power and of justice. One of the wonderful moments in the movie is the contrast in two seperate programmes of Murrow's show - when he is making his breaking attacks against McCarthyism followed by a completely mundane and scripted chat with two inane movie stars involving a tour of their home. The former of course was controversial, led to personal attacks on Murrow himself and ultimately led to the show losing it's sponsors. The latter was deemed publicly popular, and pleased the sponsors to no end. Good Night and Good Luck is an implicit condemnation of the watering down of journalism and of the ever real danger of the media selling out to big business. With large numbers of publications now owned by large tycoons - Rupert Murdoch springs immediately to mind - not to mention politicians - Silvio Berlusconi and Michael Bloomberg - we live in a day and an age where this could not be more real. That is not to say that there is a complete lack of such journalism - programs such as BBC's panorama should be commended for their efforts - but I cannot help but wonder at Murrow's comments made almost 50 years ago, that television stood at a crossroads between pandering to popular entertainment and serving as a unique check on public abuses and serving a vital role in public education. It is a saddening thing to note how far we have come down the former path, and I think that we need far more Edwin Murrow's in journalism today.

Capote is similar to Good Night, Good Luck in that it is a very realistic and historical film, in this case an examination of Truman Capote as he went about researching and writing his seminal novel In Cold Blood. I was very keen personally to watch this movie as I had enjoyed Capote's writing, and I remember being captivated by In Cold Blood when I read it 2000 whilst studying for my A levels. I was also interested to see firsthand Phillip Seymour Hoffman as Capote, a role for which he won rave reviews and numerous awards, especially to determine if it were a genuine case of brilliant acting, or more of the case of a hardworking, reknown actor lacking any recognition who is finally given his due.

The movie was certainly fascinating, particularly in looking at Capote's character and neurosis, and how they combined to form a unique genius. One remark stands out as particularly apt - Truman's companion says to Harper Lee, his close childhood friend, on seeing Truman at the center of a large group of admirers charming the crowd: "this looks like the beginning of a grand love affair", probably meaning a love affair of the crowd with Truman. Harper Lee however, gets it exactly right when she says: "Yes, of Truman with himself". The movie's strength lies in it's ability to bring across, often subtly, the exactitude of this self-obsession, this need for public acceptance, this realization of genius. It certainly is a rather unblinking portrait: it shows that he essentially manipulated the two murderers that was to form the heart of his novel, and that his sole purpose in befriending and 'aiding' them was for his novel, and in fact at one point states that fact explicitly.

One thing that gave me great pause for thought on watching the movie, was the whole notion of documentary. After all, Capote himself had deemed In Cold Blood to represent a new form of novel, the non-fiction novel, whereby fiction is utilized as a tool to examine the deeper underlying currents of factual happenings. Thus, it was his explicit purpose to force us readers to look at Perry not as a cold-blooded murderer, and a slayer of 4 innocent victims, but as a tortured soul whose we can comprehend. But where does the line between truth and fact stand and when does it begin to blur?

In relation to the movie, how much of the representation of Truman Capote is accurate, beyond the accent and mannerisms, and how much of it is a director's vision of Capote, particularly in relation to a specific period in his life. There is also the matter of factual accuracy - we see Capote having a phone conversation with Harper Lee, is what she said something that she really did say to him? Was it similarly phrased, on similar in terms of it's general theme, shortened for the necessary brevity that cinema entails? What was left out in that conversation, what was kept? After all, we soon learn that history is written as much from omission and submission - that we choose to remember the 22nd November 1963 for one person's death (JFK) rather than as the date of the death of Joe Bloggs on the street of a nameless city from freezing to death is a choice of sorts.

It is interesting then that this movie is in a sense profoundly inspired by Capote's "method" in writing his book. Whether such a project is viable, is certainly still a question in my mind. That it is such a successful film though, is testament to the fact that it was certainly a brilliant conception. Indeed, cinema rather than fiction, has often been the medium through which we have explored inside the psyches of tortured souls, where the outsider has been glorified. It is thus fitting that it is in this medium that Capote's legacy lives on.

Addendum: Some interesting facts for movie buffs. In Cold Blood was filmed in 1967, in black and white, and if I am not wrong, it won best cinematography for Conrad L Hall - the last film shot completely in black and white to win the award. The most famous scene in the movie has one of the two men standing next to a window with the rain pouring down outside, as he makes a confession. The outline of the rain on the window almost seem like tears coursing down his face as he speaks. Hall utilized this idea again in the movie The Road To Perdition for which he won a posthumous Oscar for cinematography. Except this time, he shows the outline of rain against a window pane casting a shadow on a wall opposite, again creating the impression of tears being shed by Tom Hanks as he tucks his boy into bed.

Interesting Happenings

Here are some things that have been happening in the news that I have found interesting, and that I have been meaning to and should comment on at greater length:

Menzies Campbell (pronounced Ming, apparently) has been elected as the new leader of the Liberal Democrats, beating Simon Hughes and Chris Huhne in a ballot cast by party members. The leadership race was notable more for its scandals than anything, with Mark Oaten and the revelation that he had hired male prostitutes particularly shocking and galling. Mr Campbell's win, while popular and not too unexpected leaves the question of what to call his collective group of supporters. The one that comes immediately to mind - that of 'mingers' - is ruled out for obvious reasons.

Also, an interesting new reality TV series is premiereing in America. Now, I am not a fan of reality TV in general, particularly of it's Survivor/Bachelor/Fear Factor nature (though more tolerant of American Idol and it ilk, those standing in the long tradition of talentime contests), but this one has really caught my interest. It is called white.black, and involves a white and black family respectively being transformed by hollywood make-up artists into having the appearance of the opposite race. They would then live together and have to try and adapt themselves into their new role. I thought that this was a very interesting way in which to examine the whole notion of race.

Also, the controversial historian David Irving has been sentenced to a 3 year jail term for "holocaust denial' which is a crime in Austria and Germany. This comes despite him admitting that he held opinions in publications dating from the late 1980s that effectively constituted denying the Holocaust BUT that he had since changed his opinion, particularly after reading the Eichmann papers. This comes in the wake of a well publicized libel trial when noted historian Richard J Evans was a chief witness which went a long way towards undermining much of Irving's historical research, if it could be called such. However, one must question whether a person can be punished in such a manner for holding "opinions", especially if he has since come to change his mind. Leaving aside the question of whether the change of heart is genuine, I have grave reservations on the matter. Comments on this welcome.

The Academy Awards have been announced with Crash winning a surprise Best Picture Award. Much has been made of the shock of it all, but to be honest this was probably one of the most open fields in history, with no big budget movie (Titanic, Lord of the Rings) guarenteed to dominate. One major talking point has been the merits of Brokeback Mountain, on which opinion has generally been rather divided. Many people felt that it was only so acclaimed because of its groundbreaking nature, and if the story had been a normal love story, it would have been a rather ordinary film. On this count, I disagree. On a side note, I am very pleased that Rachel Weisz won the oscar for The Constant Gardener, in what I thought was a great performance in a very good movie.

In America, the debate over abortion continues as South Dakota passed a law which banned abortions in all cases except for those in which the mother's life was threatened. This is almost certain to be challenged, particularly with another state law allowing for legislation to be challenged as long as a petition signed by enough state voters is collected. The renewed challenge on abortion comes with the appointment of John Roberts and Samuel Alito Jr to the Supreme Court which is seen to have swung the court to the right. Alito's appointment in the place of Sandra Day O'Connor, who was a firm supporter of abortion, is seen to be key.

What's been happening

Sorry for the lack of recent posts. Things have become rather turbulent of late. Have got myself into a bit of a funk of late and I realize now more than ever how it is easy to get into a routine of not getting much done and ending up stuck like that. As the Rembrandts said in the theme song to Friends, you can be "always be stuck in second gear" and find that it is not your "day, your month or even your year".

Things of note that have happened recently: On Saturday the 4th of March I went to London to attend AC Night 2006 commemorating the 120th Anniversary of the founding of my alma mater, Anglo Chinese School. There was a wonderful sense of camaraderie which I have always treasured at the school, and it was quite wonderful meeting up with many people in my year. Of the Oxford bunch, Charles, Jamin, Poompong, Tim Tay, Derek, Peter Ho all went. It was nice to meet up with Juxin again as well.

Also, I have now officially retired from my term as the Quiz Society Squad Captain and will be replaced by the current secretary Samantha. Also, I am very excited in being able to say that I will be representing the Oxford B team in the Varsity Quiz match against Cambridge this coming Saturday.

Also, Trinity's participation in the Inter-College Quiz ended in a rather one-sided loss to a very good Corpus Christi A team in the second round.

More updates soon, hopefully with fuller descriptions of what has been going on.