Toffeenut Latte and Christmas. And Dublin? 8:54 am

My mind was still weaving through to-do lists and what-ifs as I got on the train to London. You know how it is like leaving behind the unresolved. The train ride saw me drift in and out of paying back my sleep debt which I am certain has gone into eternal overdraft. No usual romantics about train-rides today; just drools and, possibly, snores.

Before I know it, its London Euston I arrive at. Didn't I just leave here not too long ago? Didn't I just use this station two months back as a Londoner? Now I arrive like a stranger once more, like the many faces at London Euston train station.

Its 3pm and yet the sun is all too eager to set. Do you not wonder what does the sun do after it sets, especially this early as winter beckons?

Like the days I lived in London, I walk into a Starbucks, this time along High Holborn. As I walk through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels, the comforting cafe chatter greets me. And the tint of Christmas carols in the background. The Starbucks menu has turned from the familiar green to the ubiquitous red; its Christmas time. I smile.

A friend is all gaga over Starbucks' Christmas special toffeenut latte. And so, to find out for myself, I order one, with lovely sugary sprinkles atop the whipped cream. And well, it was good enough to inspire me to whip out my laptop and write this entry.


Along High Holborn with a setting London sun, toffeenut latte, Christmas beckoning. Its lovely. Simply lovely. My cup is now empty, ready for a refill.

Perhaps now Dublin has a better chance with me.

Uncle T

Onward to Dublin! 4:47 pm

I'm off to Dublin.

A little numb, of not wanting to leave behind unfinished work, yet I am certain with the beloved company from old days, I will hit the ground running the moment I reach Luton.

But its a pensive feeling right now, as I look out at the pretty blue sky and pretty autumnish sun shining over Warwick.

Perhaps I've grown too attached to Warwick. Too attached not wanting to leave; not now, not in a year.

But to the land of Guinesss and Pierce Brosnans! And erm...elves?


Uncle T

No, we are not perfectionists. Just persistent souls. 4:40 pm

She short-hands emotions; she simplifies them by laughing it aside. Laughter is said to be the best medicine, and possibly the best defense mechanism. The moment she laughs, no more questions asked. The happy smile is the facade of a world perhaps only some will imagine a face like that endures.

No, she needs no pity. We all have our crosses to carry; we all have our Shit to deal with.

Its not an immediate problem to solve. No, crosses are meant to be borne for a long time, possibly lifetimes. Its not like running out of toilet paper, and you go out to buy it, problem solved. No. You may want to solve it, resolve it, now, but it takes years. That is the nature of the cross I speak of. And we all have our crosses to carry; family, handicaps, hatred, inadequacies, beauty...

But she has friends. The friends around that care but possibly never truly understand, the friends who fully understand but don't know how to care, the friends that seem to care but actually only for their own warm-glowing-feeling...

But more importantly, she has the determination. That determination that has allowed her to unknowingly carry her cross since childhood, that determination that always wills her to choose the better path even if its the harder path, that determination to lead the better life. No, she is not a perfectionist, but a persistent soul, as many of us are.

photo courtesy of deviantart.com

We do not realise how we have carried crosses since the days we were brought into this world, surrounded by loving yet possibly irresponsible adults, who do not realise that their words and deeds may possibly be that flutter of a butterfly's wings that cause a seismic catastrophe; what one screams at an infant in rage may well contribute to an adolescent who lacks social intelligence. Who we are today are often testimonies of carrying our crosses that serve as inspiration to others.

Some of us have yet to realise the crosses we are destined to carry. Some of us have been carrying them for the longest time, some realising it some don't. And the faster we acknowledge these crosses, the higher the chance that we will lead a better life. What are your crosses?

No, we are not perfectionists. Just persistent souls who want to fight the good fight.

Yes, we can.



Uncle T

UN's Response to Failure of Foreign Aid 8:56 pm

So I am still researching on my essay. Yes, been spending reading week well, reading. And William Easterly once again never fails to amuse me with his seemingly common sense sarcasm.

But whilst its funny and makes sense, its an argumentative strategy that ignores many other counter arguments.

Nevertheless, for entertainment purposes, here is what he says about the UN responding to the continuing failed global aid plans:

"So what is the response to failure of the aid
plans? Let me give you three possible choices for
the way the U.N. could have responded, and then
I’ll ask you, with your knowledge of current events
and your knowledge of economics, to tell me
which ones of these choices were actually selected
by the U.N.

• Possible response (a): The U.N. could hold
somebody in the U.N. accountable for the fail-
ure and create incentives in the future to get
results through such accountability.

• Possible response (b): Ask donors for more
money to follow the same plan over again—to
do the exact same thing that just failed over
again.


• And response (c): Just have Jeff Sachs make an MTV video with Angelina Jolie.

Of course, I don’t have to tell you. What actually
happened was (b) and (c); (a) still has never hap-
pened. In fact, it never even seemed to occur to the
U.N. that (a) was a possible response when they
were writing their gloomy reports about how the
aid plan was failing. They never seemed to notice
the irony of writing about the failure of their own
program. For them, it’s just a fund-raising vehicle
to talk about failure. "


And here is that MTV of Jeff Sachs and Angelina Jolie.

the passionate economist who attempts to eradicate poverty by 2025...


and erm...the lady who also believes the same thing. Just with less clothes. But guess its tough work enough to work up a sweat.

ps. For those who don't know, Jeff Sachs is the famous economist and author who is, in my professor's words, the travelling partner of Bono, but also a key proponent of the Millenium Development Goals, who believes global poverty can be eradicated by 2025. Click here for more info on him. I'm sure you know Angelina Jolie.

To be fair, the 8 Millenium Development Goals are tangible ways the yous-and-Is can attempt to do our part in helping the less fortunate. And if what Jeff Sachs propounds is true, that it is do-able during our lifetime to eradicate poverty, why not let's give it a shot?



Uncle T

"I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas" 3:28 pm

"Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot...

But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like?

We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man...

A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget."

photo courtesy of deviantart. my own are to come, i assure you.

Uncle T

A rare cool academic find... 9:36 pm

In the midst of doing my essay on the efficacy of foreign aid. I rarely talk about school work here, considering it boring. But realised that my often soapy drones about life didn't figure any better on the boredom scale, that I might as well share some school work anyway.

Here is William Easterly, an American economist from NYU [click here for more info from (in)famous wiki]. His sacarstic academic writings crack me up, and here he aptly employs the sacarsm to teach all of us laymen about development economics and helping the poor. Enjoy!

"So Jeff Sachs, the U.N., the World Bank, and the International Monetary Fund have come up with a big plan to solve all the problems of the poor by the
year 2015. It’s a pretty modest plan: There are only
449 separate interventions, and there’s a very
doable agenda of 54 different Millennium Development
Goal target indicators, which represent 18
targets, which represent 8 millennium goals, and
the plan is all nicely laid out very clearly and concisely
in a 451-page main report with 3,300 pages of technical annexes.

How exactly would this plan be implemented?
Jeff says in his book that the U.N. Secretary General
should personally run the plan. He would not have
to do much: He would just have to coordinate the
actions of thousands of officials in six U.N. agencies,
the U.N. country teams, the World Bank, the
International Monetary Fund, all consistent with
the World Bank and IMF Poverty Reduction Strategy
Papers, which have their own 1,246-page
“PRSP sourcebook.”

Just think about the incentives that are created
by this grandiose global plan. You have all the aid
donors and recipients collectively responsible.
They all share responsibility for implementing all of
these actions, for meeting 54 different goals, which
also depend on lots of other things besides what the
donors and recipient governments do. If anything
goes wrong, you can blame the other aid donors,
you can blame the other factors that affected
whether the goals were achieved or not, or you
could even just say, “The reason I didn’t achieve
that goal was that I was working on this other goal.”

That’s what happens when you have multiple
goals, collective responsibility, and goals depending
on things besides what the aid agents themselves
do. This is the worst possible incentive
system of all time. When you really read the fine
print of the very long documents that set out the
goals, you reach this conclusion: In this great, grandiose
campaign to end world poverty and achieve
the Millennium Development Goals, nobody is
individually responsible for any one result."

Uncle T

a cool new word i learnt 7:47 am

"proclivity |prōˈklivətē; prə-|
noun ( pl. -ties)
a tendency to choose or do something regularly; an inclination or predisposition toward a particular thing : a proclivity for hard work."

Uncle T

What are the chances? 2:55 am

What are the chances?

what are the chances of a song that says what you never had guts to say? what are the chances.

KATE MONSTER (from Avenue Q sings)

There's a fine, fine line
Between a lover and a friend
And there's a fine, fine line
Between reality and pretend
And you never know 'til you reach the top
If it was worth the uphill climb
There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time

There's a fine, fine line
Between a fairytale and a lie
And there's a fine, fine line
Between "you're wonderful" and "goodbye"
I guess if someone doesn't love you back
It isn't such a crime
But there's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of your time


And I don't have the time to waste on you any more
I don't think you even know what you're looking for
For my own sanity I've got to close the door
And walk away

There's a fine, fine line
Between together and not
And there's a fine, fine line
Between what you wanted and what you got
You gotta go after the things you want
While you're still in your prime
But there's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time

photos courtesy of deviantart.com

Uncle T

Old friends, simple warmth 2:34 am

Old friends, Simple warmth.

The simple warmth. And all it took was 3 hours with them.

The old friends visited today. Having graduated and moved on into the realm of the corporate whirlpool, the bunch decided to switch their corporate collars for reminiscing and a good time; they came back to university. They came home.

All I had was 3 hours with them. Just 3. Nothing more. Yet, I still hear them lingering in my room. Laughing, smiling.


We shopped at Costcutters for drinks, ordered oily oily fried chicken take-out, walked back to my flat jesting. Lazed in my room, flipped photos, played with matches, chatted. Just basking in the company. We chugged down what seemed like an eternity of fried chicken and Coke. My tiny room turned into a cosy gathering of familiars.

Why? Why is it that I always get this easy, simple warmth with this bunch; without the feeling of being judged on what you say or do? Just being. Just happy. Where is your happy bunch? I can only hope to find this simple warmth more often; just being, without the fear of judgment.

All I had was 3 hours with them. Just 3. Nothing more; old friends, simple warmth.

just3.nothing more.

Uncle T