Chapter 4: Felt like a whore? So did I!

Admittedly, there were times in NS when I felt like I was a dirty whore. It was definitely the closest that I've felt to being a whore in my entire life. In that respect, ns has fulfilled its educational objective. I swear, if I walk past the streets of Geylang at night, I'm sure I'll have a greater sense of empathy for the long-haired people in high heels drinking beer with old men. After all, it wasn't so long ago that I was watching people drink beer in the army mess.

Catering to the not-very-reasonable demands of multiple bosses probably felt something like a whore serving multiple clients, though I expect she'll charge more. And the wholesale disregard for your welfare? Check. Years from now, I'll still be wondering why the fuck did I ever skip lunch to finish up work for somebody else.

Lack of appreciation? Check. After an audit, it's 'thank you everyone for the hard work put in' and then BAM! 'you need to serve extras cos even though the end-result proved ok, in the process you didn't know what you were doing'. That was one of the most pissing off days of my life. I worked overtime for a few weeks so that they could take my weekend away. But in reflection, it was a learning experience.

For one, it was a day of enlightenment for me. The incident told me that whatever I did scarcely matters, that nobody gives a fuck about me. Seen in another light, it means I don't have to seek to impress anyone, I don't have to give a fuck either. It's like the philosophy in Fight Club, where you have to lose everything so that you can do anything, well sort of. A transcendent experience.

Seen in another light, it also helps in anger management, because if I had done something stupid like punch someone, then I wouldn't be at home shaking leg and posting this. Another educational experience. I think I'd better stop before everyone thinks the world of NS.

There! The last chapter! Honestly the memories fade away pretty quickly, there's a lot that we forget, especially unpleasant experiences, I guess that's what most blogs are for, to whine and rant, and to remember the things that were worth whining and ranting about.

Chapter 3: Sleepless Sunday Nights

Ah wells, those sleepless sunday nights are a thing of the past, at least until I get a proper job or school starts. Now, the only reason I can't sleep at night would be cos I sleep too much in the afternoon. yay.

Still, memories of those nights have taught me a great deal. (don't be fooled into thinking this sentence connects logically with the sentences below.)

a) Uncertainty is a multiplier of fear

Often, when you step back and think, you'd realise there's nothing to be afraid of, for example, if you're late or didn't do an assignment or misplaced an isac card (computer card in army), there's actually nothing much to it. Or in basic camp, when the most for a minor offence was push-ups, there was nothing much to fear. But uncertainty loomed and we were all scared shitless. We should all learn to embrace fear, and I recommend Harold and Kumar go to Guantanamo Bay

b) Stupidity is good

When you're universally acknowledged to be incompetent, everyone lowers their expectations of you, and that is good. Because at least in NS, dignity doesn't count for anything, cos you don't have any to begin with. Like that time I had a free off cos I went for a medical appointment on the wrong day.

c) Work is never-ending, but life isn't

Usually, we forget this fact when we are swamped, when the boss is squeezing the balls. We fail to realise that all his ball-squeezing are for his benefit and not us. Anyway, i've known from experience that starting work early has absolutely no correlation with ending work early, so it really doesn't hurt to take a nap in the morning, and then again in the afternoon.

d) Slack jobs are not always the best

As an enlightened guy in my camp said, you might sleep so much you just don't wake up.

e) Shit falls on Fridays

This is an immutable fact. Shit never came in so many forms and flavors as on a Friday afternoon. So make sure you get your ass covered. Don't ask me I don't know how, if I knew I wouldn't have been the last one leaving the camp for so many Fridays.

f) You think you own a handphone. Guess what? The handphone owns you now.

Has your heart been conditioned so that it drops like a stone when your handphone rings? If so, you are officially the property of your handphone and the slave of the evil forces that lurk on the other end. Evil forces that have the power over your weekends. Somebody should really do a comic about this.

And that's all for this chapter. About one more chapter to go!

A leg brace ain't enough to get you a seat in Singapore

For those who know me, you'll know that i've been wearing this leg brace, something like below, except mine is sexier.




















An important thing to note for those who intend to get sexy like me is that it's not enough to get you a seat in Singapore's trains. A leg brace just doesn't smack hard enough in commuters' conscience, or they may simply lack one. I got onto the train towards pasir ris at queenstown and had to stand until raffles place.

And even then, it wasn't as if somebody gave their seat up. I had to say " FUCK OFF ASSHOLES THAT'S MY SEAT" before charging through with my fist and plonking my ass down.

But that is not to say that Singaporeans are discourteous. I can think of a host of reasons for why nobody gave their seat up to me.

1. All those sitting down were genuinely asleep, eyes closed or otherwise.

2. All those sitting down were tourists or foreign workers. This would mean that Singaporeans aren't the discourteous ones.

3. Everyone was too busy staring at my handsome face to notice that I was wearing a leg brace. Honestly, I like this reason best. Anyway, one of the ladies who had been fighting with me for the seat later said, "I'm sorry I didn't see your leg brace." Point proven.

Room for improvement:
In order to get a seat in the train, it would be necessary to bring along 2 crutches. I really can't see how that can fail. If you still cannot get a seat, then just jab the crutch at the nearest guy and see if he takes the hint. Too extreme? Then just drop the crutches on his legs accidentally, and repeat that until he takes the hint. Speaking of crutches, i've got a pair for sale, who wants?

Chapter 2: The Most Dangerous Thing in NS is a Sense Of Responsibility

hmm let's hope that the title isn't the most interesting part of the chapter.

So in any new working environment, the new guy would need time to fit in. Chances are that he's a decent bloke who wants to make a good impression, on his bosses, on the people around him. In the present age of high unemployment, such behaviour makes perfect sense, because unemployment looms menacingly. So that's what most nsfs do.

Except that it doesn't bring much benefit. Because bosses know that you're going to ord anyway. Because bosses don't really give a hoot about welfare unless it gets them into trouble. And because the sense of responsibility is sometimes a parasite that eats away at the soul.

But without a moral compass that is this article, most fail to maximise their time in ns.

The blabber above can be summarised in : Only the good feel guilty.

Chapter 1: Get Out of Your Comfort Zone

This is going to be the start of a mini-series on ns life (well what other life do i have?). It's probably going to start in a chronological order, and end in total disorder. In fact there may be some repetition since i've already written on the Te Kong Delight in December last year, see http://talkcocksummit.blogspot.com/2008/12/holiday.html.

Let's start by talking about comfort. It's not something we can readily define. Is it picture-perfect like sipping champagne on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean? Or is it something as simple as eating a bag of potato chips? It's a real mystery. But being able to piss after the 10th water parade certainly felt quite comfortable. As did going home for a few hours after a week of abuse. It's really quite amazing what suffering one can put up with as long as it's in a group.

One of the starting phrases introduced is: GET OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE.
And my reply would be yea, as soon as you stick your finger up your ass permanently. That can't be very comfortable, and you would definitely leading by example. Not that I would necessarily follow. I think God meant for our rear ends to be one way streets outwards.
Thus, learning point 1: Don't ask me to get out of my comfort zone.

Another topic is leadership. This is a difficult thing to define, cos let's say I'm walking in front of a large crowd towards somewhere, maybe the toilet. Just as i reach the entrance i turn around and tell all those behind me, " Lo and behold, worship me, for i have led you to the promised land!" I'm quite sure the crowd would just shove me aside. Their full bladders were leading them to the toilet anyway, so i could not be the leader. If on the other hand, i make others do what they don't want to do, that is the mark of a true leader.

In the army, though, few are the places where the people are going anyway. The only thing everyone would automatically go for is book out, so doing anything else requires a leader, such as running through a forest with a heat rash on the back, and then waking up to do it again in the middle of the night.
Thus, learning point 2:
army produces leaders because there's so many opportunities to make people do what they do not want to do.

Work and Stress

After about a week at work, it's blindingly obvious that it's not very good for health. Stress has been blamed for everything from natural disasters such as earthquakes (stress at points where tectonic plates meet) to serial killers (school schooters and stabbers must have been pretty stressed up) to suicide cases (nothing new there). Work causes stress, and by work I mean a chore that you don't actually like doing, but you do it for money, or simply because you're forced to, like half the population in singapore. Though they'd like you to think you're doing it for pride, honour, glory, family, friends, country, security, society, anything but forced labour.

Back to stress. It differs very much in the work that is bring done, but one can tell the nature of the work from the stress levels. Let's illustrate an example in a graph, because they make everything look professional, and everyone fall asleep.
























The x-axis shows the time, and the y axis shows stress levels. I would believe stress is normally measured by blood pressure, but in this case i shall use cm^3 instead, the assumption being that if the stress levels are more than the volume of the brain, the brain will just explode. But i digress.

This graph depicts the profile of someone who goes "above self, beyond duty, many extras". The day starts off relatively calmly at 8am. Optimism is in the air, it is going to a great day of accomplishment and satisfaction, and you have the world at your feet. It's as if everyone standing up is giving you a standing ovation to celebrate your messianic presence at work. You enjoy the peaceful walk to your office, and your stress levels instantly increase upon seeing that stack of paper on your table. But sitting at the table, surrounded by your dear friends Printer, Computer, Pen and Paper, it's impossible not to get a warm feeling of familiarity. Getting 'in the zone', one draws up a to-do list and it's almost like conquering the world. On a high, adrenaline rush, it seems as though one can finally reach the holy grail of productivity. Thus, the stress levels remain relatively stable till about 12.

Then, it's time for lunch, time to think about where to eat. A little stressful sometimes, especially when the food sucks, but it's not really a problem. After lunch, it gets really tiring, and all that has been done for the day is the to-do list. So it's a dilemna. To sleep or not to sleep? If you sleep, precious time is lost, and if you don't, you're incapacitated mentally.

And as you decide, time ticks by anyway oblivious to your whining, and in the end you fall asleep anyway, because it's hard to stay awake. Wake up at 3, and realise it's really really close to the magical time of 5pm. Try to change the world again, but people won't pick up your calls, or not in, or whatever. You realise that it's ultimately futile, and continue to lay in a collapsed heap at your desk. That is, until 5pm acutually hits like a sledgehammer to your frontal cortex. There are 2 options:

a) fuck off and go home

b) stay and work and feel pathetic

b is the option shown by the graph above, because when 6pm hits and then 7pm, there's an increasing sense of desperation as each hour at work leads to one less hour at home enjoying. And finally, the brain can't take it anymore and explodes, leading to a bunch of happy retards running around at work. And that is the end state.

A Tale of Two Andys

First of all, no matter how realistic the story below sounds, it is entirely a work of fiction. Just a very realistic work of fiction.

How do great stories start? What the fuck i try to think of a great chapter 1 and all that comes to my pathetic mind are " A dark and stormy night" (Snoopy style), "RRing! My alarm clock rang"(primary school style) and "With the advent of globalisation in the blahblahblah" (jc style). That's 12 years of education and 2 years of degeneration for you.

So it's off to copy a great beginning, because copying is really the greatest form of flattery and what better story to mimick than Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities. Well if you've never read the story before, fear not, because i haven't either, other than the kiddies' abridged version. Fortunately, there's always sparknotes for those who love to pretend to have a more literary background than they actually have. I've even very kindly included the link "http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/twocities/section2.rhtml" for those among you who got Excuse Typing.

It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of stupid pple, it was the age of stupid things. It was the epoch of no off, it was the epoch of no leave. It was the season for flu, it was the season for MC. It was shit in spring, ITS ORD IN NOVEMBER! and such was the entire setting of the story, because i have the attention span of a hamster and i can't even finish reading sparknotes.

On this fateful day, I woke up with a start. My eyes turned to the clock instinctively. It read 7.45am, and the fucking phone was vibrating against my wooden table again. As my hand reached out to grab it, i dreamt of that beautiful november day when evil spirits would stop using the phone to manipulate my soul.

"Hi, this is your slave here, how would you like to abuse me today?" I chirped in my most cheerful voice.

"You gotta go to court today." The evil spirit's message reverberated through my heart, my soul, and every sinew of my iron-marked body. Still I had my brain with me, so I was shocked.

"What the hell did I do? If im going to jail for punching somebody, it'll be nice to actually have punched somebody! And there's no lack of people in mind!" i replied good-naturedly.

"Your colleague Andy is going to get charged. So you have to be there." was the terse reply.

"Oh ok. I'll go. Andy's a great guy." I said, obviously under some Jedi mindtrick.

With that, the connection ended, and i lapsed onto my bed, exhausted. But there was no time to to relax, for i had to get into some decent clothes and fast. So in the end, i got there with Andy, don't ask me how, use your own godamn imagination for a change (and don't say im lazy!).

I have never been to the court before, so it was an eye-opener of sorts. Here are a list of things that i recommend that you do not bring there.

1. gold bar
2. the memento piece that you chipped off the Eiffel Tower
3. anus ring (if it exists)

simply because there are metal detectors. There's no check of identification, so if at any time you feel that life is meaningless or that you simply want to prove to yourself you aren't that forsaken by God after all, compared with other people, you could swagger into the place and witness the full power of the law, assuming you don't have an anus ring.

So i strode into the courtroom with andy. It wasn't like any place i've been before. One bored looking dude also known as the judge sat behind a high wooden table sounding very irritated, and he had every reason to be. From his high perch (probably signifying his moral high ground) he could probably see the mass of humanity, all on the fringes of society awaiting his judgement before he could finally go home and take a shower.

So i sat down and waited. It was cramped and uncomfortable, like waiting at any other government body, except that there was no queue number. It's a simple case of get up on the stand when your name is called, and the system is flawless. That is the power of the law. No matter how many tattoos the guy has, he's still punctual. I mean, try getting a battalion of NSFs to arrive on time for an outcamp run, and 'er. i got stomachache' or 'wah sorry i didn't know i took the bus in the wrong direction'.

One distinct difference between the court and other government waiting rooms was the undeniable sense of anxiety, even though there were so many people moving around looking busy, seeming even chaotic at times. And so it was in this uncomfortable atmosphere that i waited for the verdict. I could see the defendants take their stand one after the other in front of the irritated judge, and finally andy's verdict came.

I waited with bated breath, only for the prosecution to say, " Your honour, we are not ready, please give us another 2 weeks".

I can't remember the jargon that the judge said, but it amounted to 'ok whatever'.

Well i was kidding about the bated breath that part, because andy told me that particular court acted as a coordinator of sorts, throwing cases to different courts, and didn't do the dirty job of sentencing. What the verdict meant was andy got his freedom for another month, since it took that long for a case to move through the bowels of the courts before squeezing out a verdict.

So this Andy got his freedom, albeit for a short while.

So now it's time to see the other Andy, this time for my freedom, from the pain and suffering bugging my knee of course. It was my first time meeting this other Andy, and he promised to relieve me of my suffering. It's going to be a long time, but i'll deal with it. I'm not going to talk about this other Andy cos he's a mysterious fellow. So unlike Charles Dickens' famed novel, this particular story won't have a touching, moralistic, complete ending. That is also a reason why I don't write novels.

Instead, I shall be a complete fraud and edit his ending. With the help of the second Andy, i hope to have a far, far better rest, than i have ever had, for these 1 year 10 months. The End.

Left for Dead

My situation: stay out, subject to no work.

So that's more or less like I'm a part of the normal Singapore workforce, unlike most people studying. I've learnt a lot, and the things to hate about work. Like meetings. Many scenarios can happen after a meeting is scheduled:

Meeting cancelled: yeeeyy

Fall sick and stay home: yeyy

Assuming that both of these don't happen, be prepared for a rather shitty time, with bullshit being the main focus. It generally starts out fine, everyone's optimistic many things can resolved somehow by more talking heads, talking heads that never appear except for meetings with a big boss. But when the agenda drags on for more than half an hour, morale dips to 'cb another dedication of my life to my country' levels and everyone sits a little lower in their chairs. Then, you watch with horror as everyone starts to morph into zombies. You, my friend, are the survivor, and here's where my new characters for the computer game Left for Dead comes in.

The Bull: Works like the character Boomer, but instead of spewing a disgusting, sticky goo, this one emanates shit like nobody's business. bullshit. Usually starts with "i think we can blahblahblah..." or "In my previous unit, we did blahblahblah..." You know that's an enormous catastrophe, it's like you see the asteroid casting a shadow as it comes crashing into earth and you just cross your trembling fingers and hope that the bullshit doesn't land splat in your face. The bull usually spawns close to Legolas (see below)

Ultimate move: Bullshit Storm
This is a sad way to die as your spirit, your intelligence, your dignity are all crushed mercilessly by the tonnes of bullshit falling from the sky. You are finally covered, and not a trace of you can be seen.

The Finger A: The finger A says "Oh this thing is X do one. You can ask him about that." or " Oh i thought X was supposed to do that as we agreed on during the last meeting" (X may be a zombie too so in that case you can watch a zombie-fight for once!). But sometimes this isn't a wise move because it's so directly confrontational. And what if the minutes prove it wrong? Then the finger would be pointing back at itself!

Ultimate move: Finger Stab
If you get this, you end up with holes all over your body from the finger stabs. From those holes, pple know they can fuck you.

The Finger B: The finger B is a more evolved version of the finger B and has an attribute of 20 for subtlety. It says, "I take full responsibility for the shit that happened... but actually it's his fault not my fault" The absurdity of this sentence is sometimes clouded by the zombie-ish setting. It's like saying," I'm sorry but actually i'm not sorry"

Ultimate move: Finger Stab (with longer fingernail than above)
See above, with twice the damage.

The Brain: woah this zombie is smart. Somehow through gossip and stuff, this zombie actually knows everything that's going on, but that doesn't mean it has done anything about it. But because it knows everything, it is assumed it did or was involved in the work. Nobody can lift a finger against the brain because it just knows too much.

The Goat: The goat is the noobiest of the zombies. Most of the time, it gets the blame for every shit that happens. The goat must be in the unique position that its not junior enough to "act blur live longer" and not senior enough to "wah lau it's all my stupid insubordinate subordinate's fault". So why should you fear the goat? Because the goat's bleatings can be damn irritating, like a witch's screech. The goat will say stuff like this," so now everything is my fault loh, but I did so and so and -tonnes of excuses later- proceeds to gore you with horns if you walk away. And of course you, the cynical you, will be thinking to yourself, "Now you're bleating yourself silly about the shit that happens to you when all you've been doing is leaving crap all over the place."

Ultimate move: Death Bleat

Legolas
Handsome, dashing Legolas is the champion of the show. Shooting arrows all over the place, this is the man you need to keep clear of, or keep within ass-kissing distance of, depending on what type of person you are. The undoubted leader, his fearsome arrows put the fear of god into the hearts of all present.

Ultimate move: Arrow Fury
You die a horrible death, with arrows sticking through all of your body

Your job, being the survivor, is as the name suggests, to survive. Though it's not easy, i wish you luck! And because my inexperience has limited my imagination, i recommend that you read Dilbert for the ultimate survival guide!

Holiday!

Upon entering the alternate reality, when we have no idea what's in store for us, it's a rite of passage for almost all to go on a sweet holiday package not offered to outsiders. Information as follows, take a brochure!

16D/15N Te Kong Delight

offering:

• unspoilt greenery

Trek through the unspoilt primary jungles of Singapore, witness the good, the bad, and the nasty (mother big centipedes that can bite off an ass or two). These jungles are also where you will learn your camping skills and attempt to do stargazing at night.

• swimming pool with sea view

This is quite impressive, it's the only swimming pool in singapore with a sea view. Too bad it's not often that we use it.

• guided tour along Te Kong coastline

This takes place quite early on to introduce the various amenities available to tourists. Subsequently, every morning you are able to enjoy the scenic view when you do a leisurely jog as part of the health and fitness programme.

• all meals included

Can't say the food's good, but it's free what more can you ask for?

• modern department store

This store has most modern conveniences that one needs, but the queer thing is that most of the things are in green or black, but these colours are always in fashion so not to worry.

• watch sunset and stars with friends

So throughout the course of the package, there'll be some ceremonies that occur in the evening and this is the time when you can just stand there and look at the stars. If you're wondering why i keep talking about stargazing, it's because there are so many you can see, as opposed to singapore.

• training programme for optimum fitness

You also have a fitness programme that is tailored for you. It's really progressive training.

• Life coaches with many years of experience

This is of course the best part. It's always the people that make the difference. And the wisdom of the coaches cannot be questioned. Here's their various snippets of wisdom in reaction to everyday events.

When some bugger does something stupid:
"stupid got no medicine".
A profound observation that, in spite of all the advances in medicine and technology, there's no cure for stupidity. With that, he has identified a global problem of vast scale that modern society has not even begun to solve. An oblique critique of the medical system today.

Fun fact of the day:
"by the way, fuck backside very pain".
Yea the lesson ended with this very random and totally irrelevant fun fact. But nonetheless enlightening. I mean, who would know before he said it?

Philosophy on love:
"True love is injection in the middle section without objection"
The source of heated debate for centuries, and we're no closer to an answer, but the coach gives his esteemed opinion.

Scolding someone:
"defunct sperm product"
Finally, one insult that insults the father. Mothers have been having it bad what with all the insults like motherfucker and son of a bitch. This is the age of gender equality.

Praising someone:
"Jonathan's a good boy, he's a virgin"
We didn't really have to know that.

On patience:
"of course must wait la, even pregnant also must wait 9 months"
The usual response to something like this is laughter, then '...' then??? what the hell does pregnancy have to do with anything we're doing?

Synonym for "All of you guys":
"Every father's mother's son"
I have no idea why they would substitute a shorter phrase for a longer phrase, but i assume it's to add emphasis on who they're addressing, and to wake up the people who are sleeping before continuing.

On pain:
"Fuck also pain, no pain no gain, the beauty is at the end"
a rather warped way of using no pain no gain, but effective in conveying the message.

On the wrong attitude:
"Everyday wake up 'Cheebye another day!'"
A comical way of depicting pessimists, but a gross exaggeration because even the diehard pessimists don't start cursing first thing in the morning. But i can imagine this is a good way to vent it when life really sucks that much.


And of course, when inspired by such great language, even young guys come up with memorable quotes.
King kenny:
"The worst 3 days of my life are coming to an end...the 4th is about to start"
well king kenny wasn't exactly an optimist, but this is very quotable.

Come to think of it, despite the fact that virtually all the quotes are grammatically flawed, it was a great lesson on effective communication.

So it was quite an attractive package, though it paled in comparison to the Brunei Bonanza and the Thailand Thong Party that were to follow in terms of adventure. Well, personally i gained some insights after going on Te Kong Delight. Some of them confirm the way i see the world, some of them adjust the way i see the world, and some of them turn me upside down and make me see the world that way.

Hygiene:
The package taught me that hygiene really isn't important. If i already said that in previous posts, i was kidding then. So this time, my hands and fingernails were muddy and all, and water was really meant for drinking, not washing, so with my muddy hands, i took a biscuit and popped it into my mouth. One day, two days, nope no diarrhea. So essentially, all the things that we do for hygiene in our everyday life are somewhat redundant.

Hair:
Have you wondered why Singapore has failed to produce a single rock star? Yea, actors, playwrights, poets, we have them all, but why no rock star, or at least one that i have heard of? That's because singapore guys have a serious lack of hair. Rock stars need hair, because

a) they need to cover up their ugly faces, if only for a moment
b) it can amplify the fact that their heads are grooving along to the music too. In a music hall, if you're botak, the audience sitting some distance away can't really tell whether you're moving your head along or not.
c) hair allows them to have more choices for fashion. If you have hair, you can dye your hair a rainbow hue, come up with funny hairstyles like 10 pigtails, but if you're botak, what are you going to do, paint your head?

Unfortunately, fate hasn't been kind to singaporean guys. Since young, there has been strict hair discipline. In school, there are always hair checks, and the sad thing is you don't know how mild the punishments actually are until you have graduated from school. For example, schools can give you detention but they can't give you confinement. So, in schools, we cut hair, and in te kong, we shave hair, and after that it's too late to be a rock star, or the testosterone catches up and theres a receding hairline. So that's why Singapore has no rock stars!

I Love Parades!

One thing about the alternate reality is that there are many different types of parades. But generally, a parade involves you showing yourself off to someone, presenting the best possible image. Still they differ greatly.

a) defaulter's parade

The tradition of this parade began in 1883 in the British Army, when a soldier was unable to repay his debt to his comrade, and was made to march at fast pace around the camp as punishment. Thus evolved the practice of employing defaulter's parade as the preferred form of punishment for stupid offences. Today, proud participants of the defaulter's parade hold their heads up high as they march at breakneck pace and turn round and round on the spot and then vomit. Yes it's that violent.

b) show parade

Just as the name suggests, it's for show. That's for offences like if you show up in slippers, with an ugly afro, an ugly mohawk or the like. Then you'd have to rectify your problem (trim your afro into the shape of a helmet) or say you're sikh and then show the guy who punished you what a changed man you are.

c) passing out parade

I always had this idea that the passing out parade would be a mass of people fainting at the same time, kinda like a party where everyone overdoses at the same moment, though that would take some coincidence. But it's not. Passing out parade usually means you can finally get out of the place you trained in, usually not known as a happy place.

d) master parade

Master parade is just a parade conducted when the dude feels like it. So you dress your best, and try to be the cellophane man in chicago, meaning invisible. No long hair, nothing out of place. And pray that no fire burns (means no weekend burn)

e) commissioning parade

The greatest thing that the commissioning parade has taught me is that a great mass of people doing the same action, whatever that action may be, makes for a great spectacle. So let's say you have 500 people on parade, and they all scratch their asses in the same way at the same time, that would make for a great show too. That is the power of military precision. At the same time, it tells me that people only watch the first few rows, and if you're at the back, you can pretty much screw up the parade anyway you want cos nobody cares. But we all screwed up anyway.

Explorations of the Alternate Reality

Blogging is like taking a dump. Except that i take a dump way more often than i blog. Hopefully, this exception can be remedied by the inspiration that the travels into the alternate reality has given me. 5 notebooks worth of shit, that's how much inspiration i have, it's a miracle i'm not exploding. Now i shall state a fact about the alternate reality.

In the alternate reality, different species wear berets of different colours. These are seemingly random choices coming out from crayola colours, but they are not. The colours are in fact an ingenious contingency plan in case electricty fails. Do take a look at the following pictures.
























Traffic lights! Sorry, wanted to use some real pictures but couldn't find any.