debates of emotion 8:32 pm

I feel so rusty commenting on politics; burying myself in theoretical political science seems a distant memory. But that doesn't stop the homo politicus, the innate political man within me react to what I chanced upon today.

I stumbled upon a BBC recording of the parliamentary debate between Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg and Labour Party's Harriet Harmann. This debate was regarding the recent uproar in England over the raising of university fees-cap by nearly 3 times.

As I was watching this 30-minute clip, I found myself enjoying it so much. The verbal sparring between the two candidates was not only hilarious, but also engaging in a very British way. It really reminded be of the heart-stopping days of debating for Warwick at Varsity Debates. Thrilling, those. Some may consider pompous; intellectual sparring just for ego-kicks and not necessarily providing compelling ways forward on the issues we spit and yell at each other over. The House of Commons was jeering, cheering as thousands protested outside Parliament over this issue.

But wait a minute. Hang on. This verbal sparring between the two, filled with emotion and passion, quick retorts, peppered with sarcasm, wasn't Varsity Debates. This was Parliament of a first-world, archaic as the terminology may be, democratic country. This was a debate, amongst others, a debate of emotions. Sure, the points they made made reasonable sense, but I am certain under such circumstances of crowds jeering, it was all about winning the point of the argument, of the debate, rather than working towards a solution for the betterment of the nation.

So are parliamentary debates just a political circus, where politicians stage a show to their constituency voters that they are passionately fighting for their stands, or are parliamentary debates truly the basis for policy making? If its the later, I'm worried.

Perhaps you've got to watch the clip yourself to understand my concerns: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-11724842

The way both party representatives take jabs at each other, mocking, sarcastically, it would take a saint to ignore these, rise above and talk about finding real solutions in a dispassionate scientific reasoning; isn't that what we were thought scientific societies are built upon. reasonable and rational individuals?

Since the time of the Greeks, fair and reasonable logic is meant to permeate the laws that would govern the democratic people who have given the government a mandate to rule over them.

But what I saw in the debate today was one of emotion and pride. Perhaps that is the way things are meant to be in the real-world, and I should just pack my ideals and go home. Or perhaps, just maybe, the governance of England has been in shambles in the last few years because of degradation into the elites in society taking their turn in ivory-tower ego-sparring, at the cost of its people.

Perhaps. I sure hope I'm wrong.


Uncle T

a fertile mind 2:25 pm

Many of us know that the white iPhone 4 is coming out only next year in 2011. I knew that, seeing that it was all across the global tech news.

But how did I not think of turning this delay into a 6-figure business? New Yorker Phil Lam has done just that with his website www.whiteiphone4now.com. Simply purchase parts he sells on the website, and you can convert your existing black iPhone into a white iPhone NOW? Why wait till 2011?



Sure, he is getting nervy now about possible legal infringements selling these parts, and incurring the wrath of his very religion Apple-ism, but I'm struggling to think what clicked in his head to turn a piece of information known to nearly the whole world interested in technology, into a profit-making business? Read his interview here.

But its not just him. Inventors and entrepreneurs throughout time have done the same: take a simple piece of information/ knowledge that nearly everybody else knows, link it to other ideas that other people already know, and then create and invent something that changes the face of the future. Its nearly (just nearly) the same as God taking a man's rib, throw in a little speck of dust, and voila! Eve. Not wanting to be sacrilegious, but wanting to emphasise the power within our hands to create, and creations that would be life-changing. Just think how wonder-kid Mark Zuckerberg, classics and history buff, who invented Facebook from his college dorm room.

What makes the mind of these individuals so fertile that a seed idea falls there, and it grows into a behemoth oak? Why do zillions of seeds fall on mine only to have bean-sprouts grow? What makes their minds so fertile? Perhaps Econometrics might have a glimpse of the answer. Or perhaps no machine, nor science, may crack this.

Maybe I should just drink ammonium nitrate :)


Uncle T

forgetting to dream. 11:06 am

I’ve always been a sucker for romance, a hopeless romantic. Hopeless. I sit here, alone in my apartment, watching the Singaporean romance-movie “The Leap Years” for the second time.

I rarely watch a movie twice, at least not by choice. But tonight, I did.

Friends used to shake their heads at me for being the Romeo-lover. Overly idealistic with love, Petrarchan, stupidly romantic, believing in true love. I used to dream about love, and falling into its cauldrons willingly. Poems, flowers, hidden post-cards in bags, singing love songs in the dark, writing love tunes…But I’ve forgotten a lot of that now.

Sure, my lips still speak the same language, one that sometimes rolls of the tongue as how we sometimes never do us consciously how do we actually know how to ride a bike, but just get on and go. My poems, the rare occasions that I do write, are more mechanical than art. My pen just writes a few words and instead of completing the sentence on the same line, just moves to the next with practiced, numbed instinct. Poetry. I have forgotten how to dream about love. Pride and lust have filled the place where pure romantic love used to reside within me.

I don’t know why. Or perhaps I do know parts of the answer already. It could simply be a natural part of growing up, dampening ideals with the cynicism of adulthood.

But whatever may be the reason, or reasons, I want it back. I want to dream about love again. What hope does this cruel modern world hold if we cannot even dream of beauty in love? The relationship that we share with our loved ones may be imperfect, but that does not prevent the love we share with each other as whole, complete and perfect. And when we dream, when I dream, we’ve got to let the chains of coy schooled-trepidation fall away, and just dream all the way. Dream as though you’ll live forever, live as though you’ll die tomorrow.

I want to dream about love again. When I write a love letter, say I miss you, I want each word to have that same warm-glow in me as it did when I was 15. Now I have another chance, with my café girl. I’m going to take it.

Uncle T