Got a Feeling

Went to bed last night before ten, was tired and drained.

Kept waking up every hour or so, for no reason in particular, all through the night.

Dropped my phone after trying to turn off the alarm, though I was already obviously awake.

Heard the same Black Eyed Peas song four times within fifteen minutes before 8am.

Fell asleep in class and was noticed by the teacher, who was kind enough to put forth a question that was answerable anyway.

Got caught in a massive traffic jam at 10am.

Came home to unappetizing leftovers, though not of any fault of the cook.

And it isn't even lunch-time yet, sigh.

Number Two

Second month of 2010 already, damn time flies.

Seems that alot is happening very very quickly to me and those around me, some of which are good and some of which not so fantastic. Looks like time will tell how it all plays out.

Right now I just want to lie down and switch off my brain.

Arsenal 1-3 Man Utd: Spoiler Free!

And they said it was going to be Arsenal's year.

For all the hype of the potential of Wenger's young squad, the mercurial maturation of Fabregas, the talismanic trickery of Arshavin or the pulsating pace of Walcott, the team that once earned the tag of "the Invincibles" failed spectacularly in living up to the labels and legacies of their predecessors.

"Gunners out-gunned" will be a much-repeated headline all over Britain and other Premier League-crazy areas like here in Singapore as the fallout of the match at the Emirates begins to take hold. And it will be a stunningly accurate summary of the meeting between two of European football's longest-serving and most successful managers, between the teams that have long boasted the most attractive football in the League.

Many Arsenal fans will cry out and be quick to remind others that their squad was missing their regular goal-machine Robin Van Persie, nursing an injury. Still, for a team gunning (pun intended) for top honors to rely so much on an injury-prone striker is distressing, to say the least. Critics may argue, though, that the Red Devils are guilty of the same crime, but one will point out that the United No. 10 is much more robust than the somewhat-fragile Dutchman.

Brazilian-born Croat Eduardo was also missing for Arsenal, of course, which definitely would have contributed to Arsenal's lack of bite upfront. Prudent observers, however, will realize that United were also missing the first-choice pairing at the back of Ferdinand and Vidic, arguably one of the best partnerships in Europe over the last few years. Other casualties to injury of late, Thomas Vermaelen and Gael Clichy, featured instead for the Gunners and while Vermaelen bagged a superb consolation for his seventh goal in a stellar debut season, Clichy was found wanting yet again, as he was against Ashely Young mid-week. Given Ashley Cole's and Kieran Gibbs' past misfortunes against Man Utd, it was perhaps inevitable. And when the only other replacements that Wenger had at his disposal were the aged Sol Campbell and Mikael Silvestre, problems are aplenty.

Manchester United's defence has long been the subject of both praise and scrutiny, often at the same time. With Gary Neville, Ferdinand and Vidic missing for large parts of the past year or more, the burden of responsibility has been laid on what many consider to be the unproven shoulders of Johnny Evans, Wes Brown and the Da Silva twins, Rafael and Fabio. Evans had a decent game for the most part, with a couple of errors that went unpunished as well as excellent interventions on several occasions, one fine tackle in particular that stopped Theo Walcott as the forward looked to use his pace to deadly effect. Rafael again proved every bit the Brazilian that he is, surging forward to aid United's attacking cause, and showing an enthusiasm that at times bordered on the reckless. In time, his defensive awareness should improve, and playing alongside the excellent Patrice Evra will not hurt him in the very least. Wes Brown, though, appears set to follow the footsteps of Phil Neville, Nicky Butt and Louis Saha; established and perhaps international players who are unable to hold down a place in the United first team due to a lack form, fitness, ability or the combination of the three. So often touted as an exciting prospect in defence, he is not the youngster he was so very long ago, and the purchase of Chris Smalling and the emergence of Ritchie De Laet alongside the Da Silva twins will not bode well for him.

For much of January, attention has been placed on off-the-field matters for the big names in the Premier League: American debt and unpaid wages, one-finger salutes and hurled coins, roving England captains and sulking Brazilian wingers. The match itself, though, was a thrilling contest (unless you are an Arsenal fan) filled with end-to-end action and somewhat surprisingly, only one caution. It is perhaps a testament to the professionalism and respect that the two teams and managers have for each other that the days of air-borne pasta and incidents of assault against Jose Antonio Reyes are as long-gone as the spats between Roy Keane and Patrick Viera.

It may have been wise, though, for Arsenal to have looked at their former captain. Perhaps more so than any other instance in the past, Fabregas proved that while he may stroke the ball better than anyone else in the Premier League, he lacks the leadership that Viera and then Henry provided on the pitch. Hailed and renown for his ability to turn a match on its head for the club he captains, he was left a spectator for the most part, often reduced to pot shots from distance, and never really troubled Edwin Van Der Sar and unable to influence the game in any sense. True enough, he has many years to develop that part of his game, but in a world where immediate prizes are valued over intagible potential, one questions if that is a worthy excuse. Andrei Arshavin, however, proved a constant thorn in United's side, though his attacking thrust was aided in no small part by the forward-thinking mindset of marker Rafael Da Silva. Even the Russian, however, was unable to come anywhere close to the astronomical heights he has so often reached during his time with the Gunners and he was thwarted time and again by the iron curtain of the makeshift United backline.

A good defence might give you a chance to win games, but to actually win you need a good attack, and United put on a clinic for Wenger, so long an advocate of free-flowing attacking football. Wayne Rooney, in the form of his life, hounded the entire Arsenal team like a man possessed, taking his goal expertly in the week that Ruud Van Nistelrooy opted for the Bundesliga rather than a return to the Premier League. There are many calls for Rooney to take over the England captaincy from a certain overly-friendly John Terry, and displays like this, combining pace, precision and passion show just why he seems to be destined for that mantle and more. Nani appears to have finally stepped out from the shadow of compatriot Cristiano Ronaldo, shedding his much-maligned persona of the Portugese who does little but acrobatics upon the rare goal and more often when tackled. If you would have told the average United fan a month ago that Nani would be instrumental in three wins in little over a week, he would have laughed in your face. A Man-of-the-Match performance against the old enemies from North London showed just how much improved he is. Michael Carrick, together with a vintage Paul Scholes display and the ever-improving Darren Fletcher effectively dictated the pace of the game, matching and surpassing their opponent's skill, strength and stamina.

During this pivotal juncture of the Premier League, Arsene Wenger's squad must now find a way to turn things around as they look to meet Chelsea and then Liverpool in the coming weeks. Sir Alex Ferguson on the other hand, sees his United side (and Wayne Rooney in particular) hitting fine form in the new year, as they always have. There is a whole lot of football to be played yet, but judging from Sunday, Wenger's boys have some growing up to do and Ferguson's men have begun to find their feet this season.

A Thousand Miles

I should have been in New York now.

Technically speaking, of course, I wasn't denied entry. But then I'm still waiting for an answer from the US Embassy.

Some people tell me that it worked out for the best. That this way, I can go on with the things that are happening with my life. Most of them the same people who were trying so hard to convince me that a semester-long exchange program is an opportunity of a lifetime.

Meh.

Alot of things pissing me of royally right about now.

People acting stupidly, and my cat just pulled my keyboard off the table.

Meh.

Stuck

I haven't posted anything here for ages.

I'm not entirely sure why, just keep getting caught up with other things or distracted or maybe haven't really gotten into the mood yet.

Hrm.

Avatar: Spoiler-Free Movie Review

So, I just got back from James Cameron's much-hyped, mega-bucks, special effects extravaganza that was said to be in the works for years and years. As Saj astutely observed, Hollywood directors and producers should take a page out of Cameron's book and take their time to craft a film, because this, this was epic.

Just about everyone has seen the Avatar trailer, or the various behind-the-scenes and the-making-of specials surrounding the blockbuster, and I, for one, was looking forward to it. A point to note, though, was that I was more than willing to accept a rather brainless action movie about aliens and big guns and flashy animals with stunning effects. Which was why I wanted so badly to watch it in 3-D.

That didn't happen, and it was a downer for the hour or so I had to wait before the film began. And even after being seated, Golden Village saw it fit to cram what felt like 49 advertisements for hair-care products and alcoholic beverages (and the perfunctory Visa commercials) while only screening trailers for Alvin & the Chipmunks 2 and Sherlock Holmes. I want to watch one of those movies. Here's a hint: It isn't the one with the word Squeakuel in the promo.

So there I was, all settled in, trying hard not to mind the row of prepubescent Chinese girls and boys (who sounded like girls) that were happily running amok as the lights dimmed. At first, I thought they were misplaced and were actually looking for sparkly gay Vampires, but then the movie started and they shut up.

It's a hallmark of a great and special film when the kinds of people that one expects to tarnish your cinematic experience fade into oblivion. Not a sound came from the group of them, and I'm sure that the fella beside me had his nachos untouched until the end of the movie.

As I was sitting there, trying to think of ways to rephrase "a visual feast that satisfied one's appetite for anything else", I was blown away by, of course, the effects and the sheer magnificence of the backdrops and just about everything going on on-screen. The lush world of Pandora (Borderlands!) is breathtakingly beautiful, and the indigenous flora and fauna are stunning, for lack of a better word. I watched a pretty cool documentary about what life on low-gravity planets might look like, and this seemed close. And there are Mechs! I haven't seen a Mech since The Matrix: Revolutions. Plus, Dragonhawks! Sheit.

The plot isn't that profound, and a quick scan of the trailer would enlighten the casual viewer on the gist of it, but, more importantly, it isn't stupid either. Midway through I realized that it was a hybrid of Pocahontas and Star Trek, quite honestly. There are a handful of things in the film that you would expect and predict, though I won't reveal any details. This doesn't detract from anything though, and while you might not get any Sawesque twists, it seems like just the right blend of intelligent dialogue, witty humour, solid storytelling and fast-paced action to warrant at least a second viewing.

Yep, I decided I was going to watch it again less than an hour in. Oh, the movie is long, more than two hours, and trust me, you do NOT want to leave for a pee break. Make sure you are suitably relieved before it starts.

Sigourney Weaver's character, of course, made me think of the last one that was directed by James Cameron, and her as well as Michelle Rodriguez', another tough, no-nonsense chick. It's the second Sam Worthington movie I watched, and like the first one, I absolutely loved it.

It's been a good year for movies for me, I think. Star Trek. Coraline. Terminator Salvation. 500 Days of Summer. Up. Saw VI. Watchmen. How does Avatar rank among them?

I told a number of people the instant I stepped out of the theatre that it was the movie of the year. By far. Some might attribute that to just post-film gushing and euphoria, and that may be so, but then, no other film made me feel this way either. It definitely sits among favorites like Lord of the Rings, Terminator 2, and Jurassic Park in almost every way.

I'd give it a minimum of 9/10, though the only reason it might lose out on a perfect score is that I would have liked if there was more detail for certain parts, but I'm a geek and it's not at all important. Oh, and also for the cheesy name of Unobtainium.

But wow.

My December

This year has flown by. Flown by.

My ill-fated trip to Krabi, hospital visit and all, still plays clearly in my head as if it were yesterday. I can still remember the rock-climbing, snorkeling, being jolted from sleep by certain people in the early hours of the morning.

But that was almost a whole year ago. A lifetime ago, it seems.

Alot has happened since then. I don't need to spell out the most major things, but those who have been paying attention would agree (and have pointed out several times) that I'm a changed person. Some say it's an improvement, some say it's not, others think it's more of me being who I really am, whatever or whoever that is.

A whirlwind ten or eleven months has led to where I am today. Done with what may be my final exam ever in Singapore, but maybe not. It's a scary thought, especially considering the fact that for such a long time, things seemed really foggy at the best of times.

Imagine, if you will, you get a nice jigsaw puzzle. Only the picture on the box isn't something you'd expect like a scene of a sunset against snow-capped mountains or kittens in a basket or your favourite Disney characters assembled a-smiling. The picture on the box - the puzzle - is something you don't really recognize or are able to identify. Just a jumble of shapes and colours, patterns and motifs.

So you toil, painstakingly, over this seemingly impossible situation, and just when you think you got it figured out, you realize that you've been using the wrong sides of the pieces, and now you have to start over. What you thought fit before, may or may not anymore.

I wonder how things will be like in the near future, in many regards, with many people. Some of these thoughts have already been discussed with the relevant people, and some of them remain either oblivious or defiant about things.

Ah well.

COM 443: Final Thoughts & Suggestions

It's been one hell of a semester, in many regards. This is going to be the last Advertising-Module-Related post, in all likelihood, so bear with me.

To recap, I've said this and this and this.

All in all, it's been a rough ride for everyone, and there is no better measure, in my opinion, of what we've been through than the fact that we have barely had five football gatherings since September. That's ridiculous, considering I've been playing religiously since January, and most of the others even earlier so.

I heard that before, the Advertising course that we've all slogged through involved impressing actual clients and/or representatives of ad agencies. That would actually be pretty cool, on many levels. It adds to the realism bit, as well as offering us students the opportunity to test our mettle and be judged by actual, real-world industry professionals. I'm not detracting from the current instructor's ability, but you see where I'm headed here.

Being an American course on Advertising, I can understand, expect and appreciate the emphasis on group project work. However, there are a few things to consider regarding the grouping that may be greatly beneficial to future victi - err, students of COM 443.

It's no secret that certain groups, though randomly assembled, are totally and wholly superior to their "competition". I'm not just talking book-smarts, of course. What happens if a group doesn't have anyone proficient in Photoshop or other graphic design software? What happens if the entire group, in a cruel twist of fate, has smart, creative people but all of whom suffer from the severe disability to speak to a crowd? What I'd suggest is at the start of the course, students "rank" themselves according to their ability and talents in different areas, some of which include:

Graphic Design and/or Drawing

Public Speaking

Creative Flair

Language

Video Editing

Audio Editing

Photography

A basic 1-10 on the above (which is far from exhaustive) would suffice, and then the instructor can ensure that there is some even distribution of talent, for lack of a better term.

Of course, the random nature of the (current) grouping procedure is designed to reflect the dynamic and unexpected nature of the working world that all of us should be entering soon. However, there are a couple of things that could potentially help all involved.

In a real working environment, of course, you'd expect people to switch jobs and agencies due to whatever reasons. Personal issues, financial gains, proximity to home, culture clashes, the list goes on. The same should be allowed in the classroom as well. But what, you say, what happens if people just decide to hang with their buddies? One might design a system whereby only straight 1-for-1 swaps are allowed, and only one person may swap per group per semester. That would work (somewhat), no? An example to highlight:

Group A consists of seven members, assigned somewhat randomly by the instructor. However, it's a busy, hectic, difficult semester, and while nearly everyone in Group A is able to meet every Tuesday and Thursday morning to get their work done, Person X cannot, because she has a class that the rest are not a part of. Weekends are worse, due to other commitments. However, Person X might be a better fit in Group B, who has someone willing to swap immediately.

Swap proceeds.

Group C, however, has the best friend of Person X, and now she wants to go to Group B too. However, due to the fact that Group B had previously decided to use their "Transfer Card", so to speak, no such move is possible.

Flawed, but oh well.

Finally, and most controversially, each group currently has to appoint a leader. An Agency Director. A CEO. A Boss. Give the boss some power. What power, you ask? The power to fire people. It's supposed to simulate a company, a real-world agency, isn't it? Let him/her fire people (one person?) should the need arise. The leader is elected anyway, so the group already has some regard for his/her authority.

What happens to the said fired person? If another group wants to take him/her up, by all means. If not... Drop the course? That would be harsh(er). Perhaps there could be supplemental, solo projects for everyone in class, for small extra credit. But these projects would become the bulk of the said person's workload, maybe with new dimensions and added difficulty, of course.

So what do you think of that, hmm? Full of holes, of course, but I think it could work.

COM 443: Closing Reflections #3

I stand here before you today, as the last speaker for the last group, for what could very well be the last time many of us see each other in a classroom setting. It's been a hell of a ride. I'm not going to have a video with Black Eyed Peas in the background. I'm not going to open or close a heavy book. I'm not going to put away a script. I'm not going to sing and dance. I’m not going to recite poetry or have people run around and act out a scene.

I remember when I had to address a new batch of Student Council members as Editor on my first day of the job. I didn’t even have slides, so this is an improvement. But I’m not here as the Editor of The Buffalo Horn. I’m not here as the guy who does silly comics.

I’m not even exactly here as the head of Spatiality. I'm here as Naz, to tell you about Spatiality, though we each have our own stories to tell. Here is ours, in my words.

When the class list for our little foray into Advertising was revealed, I was quite impressed. Excited. Happy. I’ve worked with a number of people here, and have seen the way many others do their things too, and have always been suitably and quite awesomely impressed by the majority of the people gathered here. I can honestly say that there was almost no way I could have been displeased with the way the groups turned out.

That being said, though, I have to be frank with everyone and I vividly remember walking into class with Justin and Ken on Day 1 and thinking about working with them again, like we’ve done so a few times in and out of class before.

I look at Spatiality, and see six people I have had mixed and varied histories with.

Sean I’ve really only gotten to know this year, and with him I feel I share a close kinship, and he is probably the only other person other than Ken who can yell “Eh Malay” at any given time and place. He’s been the one who has provided direction when it has deserted me, and that’s happened a few times.

I’ve always looked at Suen Hui and wondered what goes on in that head of hers. Now I kinda know that she obsesses over Tetris, even before we got assigned Russia, and that hiding inside her is a writer of some imagination and talent, as well as someone with a rich and diverse collection of music and media. I won’t ask how she managed to… procure everything. But she’s always been the one more than willing to put things together, both graphically and musically.

Jamie. She lives near me, which is a definite plus point. She is a constant source of support and cheerfulness, able to tell you the most ridiculously funny stories with a straight face. Like how her friend killed a baby Koala. Seriously. And she is the person who can come up to me at 1AM and suddenly, out of the blue, talk about Left 4 Dead 2. Also being the one who enthusiastically volunteers to print things (at her workplace) helped immensely.

I’ve worked with Felicia several times, and no matter what, I’ll remember the cartwheeling dance she dared to do in front of the whole cohort way back in Sem 1. It’s on YouTube. It takes guts to do what she did, and to do what she does, dare to be different and to be proud of it. She’s also someone always able to think creatively, though sometimes her train of thought is nothing short of perverted.

I never knew Daphne existed before this class. Now, I can’t imagine how that was possible. One of the hardest workers I know, and someone always willing to pick up any slack from anyone, with no complaints, no hassle, no problem. She enjoyed Lesbian Vampire Killers, whatever that means.

Of all the people in Spatiality, and perhaps in this whole class, this whole school, our very own Miss SIM-UB is the one person that I’ve gone through the most with. Through thick and thin, comedy, tragedy, drama. When I saw that she drew number three too, I was… happy.

I was happy with my group. I still am, and am proud to be called their leader, and am only here now because of all their efforts.

But this is a class of more than seven. More than six groups and an instructor. I could never have enough time to go through what I think of everyone here, what I think of our shared journey. Someone talked about how they found that their experience was much more than a sum of the parts in their group, and no truer words have been spoken. Being last today means that there is little I can say that hasn’t already been eloquently said by everyone else in one way or another, but let me just say that through the blood, sweat and tears that we have ALL shed the past few months, we can all safely say “HOLY FRICKING CRAP IT’S OVER”.

But in all seriousness, creativity and execution aside, discounting photoshops, dismissing photography, not looking at editing, ignoring copywriting, we have all put in more than we ever thought possible into this venture.

For a long time, many of us worked towards being on the forefront of creativity, striving towards excellence and to be able to wield a spectrum of ideas. Trying to be original, unique, new, bold, captivating, interesting, the very best. Some tried pulling stunts and theatrics. But we all tried as hard as we could to be a step ahead and to produce something that we could be proud of, something to display and show off. Something to call our own. Something that would endure, something that we would create to last. In the end though, I think we can all, each and every one of us, we can safely say we have left big footprints in our collective memories, and that this class, this ordeal, this trial, this test, this challenge, this experience has left us changed. Through our blood, sweat, and even some tears, it’s a testament to what we’re all made of that despite all the adversity that every one of us has faced and been forced to deal with, to contend with and eventually overcome, we’re all still here.

Here in Singapore we don’t usually pay attention to the occasion two days away, or last month, if you’re Canadian. But we have a lot to be thankful for, I feel.

I thank my group members for being supportive, receptive, open-minded, determined and ultimately for being there.

I thank the other groups, the other members of this class for keeping the big picture in mind, even as the competition heated up. For working together and not against each other, and for the enjoyable semester and past couple of years.

I thank Professor Bob Armstrong, for all he has done for us and even to us, and despite the arguments and disagreements many of us have had either privately or out in the open, I feel I can safely say that we understand and appreciate your efforts into making this a learning experience and doing your best to make this torture fun. It is said you learn more through failure and critique than success and praise, and so perhaps many of us have found the past few months thoroughly enriching.

And with that. I thank you for your time, your patience, your praise, your criticisms, your belief, your faith, your being here.

Thank you.

Star-Crossed

I'm tired. Like, physically drained and exhausted. I had about nine hours of sleep last night, which was nice, but also nine hours more than what I had the night before.

Been an eventful few weeks, for better or for worse. Feels like a long time since I watched a movie, or had any time to just lounge around and now have deadlines on my mind. All drawing to a close, though.

The Leonids Meteor Shower on Tuesday night was quite something. Not as spectacular as I'd have hoped for, and the crowd and slight drizzle were dampeners but still. The company was awesome, and I've never been rooted to one spot for such a long time before. The Day After Tomorrow and Deep Impact were also alright and ironic at the same time, for obvious reasons. I wished they had played Armageddon though.

A few people have... complained... that some of more recent posts have been too long, so I'll end here. Another big week (and weekend) ahead.

Black & Gold

A long, long, while ago, I responded to a notice appealing to interested writers for the Editorial Department of the SIM-UB Student Council. Signing up for the Council was honestly just a matter of me wanting a fancy testimonial that might impress any future prospects, rather than a genuine case of wanting to help out. Horrible, I know.

Since then, though, I've watched student leaders come and go, and been a part of a few things in my earlier days within the group. Then, due to unforeseen circumstances, I was asked to step up myself and assume the mantle of a Director by the President herself.

Now, it wasn't the first time it happened, and I'm not saying that out of a sense of pride or bloated self-worth. I had originally turned down the previous requests due to the simple fact that I was and am aware of the way I tend to grow less interested and bothered by things as time goes on. It's happened before, and I was afraid it would happen again. And I hate disappointing anyone, or giving less than my best, which is why I steer clear of things I am not totally sure of.

However, things changed, and people around me did a good job of persuading me that it could work. And it did.

Removing some dead weight from the team, and bringing everyone together with a common goal in mind was relatively easy, since so many of the ones who stayed were genuinely interested. In fact, it has been a great and fantastic honor and pleasure working alongside each and every one of them.

Kenneth Chow, Bryan, Rolan, Deepan and Ida have been on board since Day 1, and each has contributed in his or her own unique way. Sonia did too, though she left prematurely on her own accord. Later, Jacinda, Syidah, Qing Ling, Andrea, Manik and Kenneth Lee signed up as well, and like the others, have proven great assets to the team. Right now we have four new girls as well - Evona, Wendy, Aqidah, and Laila - who each look more than able to bring The Buffalo Horn to the next level.

The Editorial Team aside, it has been a wonderful experience working with many others as well. The other Directors have made life in SIM-UB vibrant and interesting, offering their expertise and unique advice as and when needed. The Vice-President has also been a source of support and amusement, especially when she isn't parking my car or stomping on my foot. And last, but certainly not in the least, Madame President is probably the single reason I agreed to take up the responsibility as Editor. As I've said before, and will proudly say again, I would not have done so under anyone else.

Of course, there have been disagreements in the past, which is to be expected. The Directors clash on things such as planning and execution of events and occasions. I still tangle with my lady boss over things she doesn't agree with (like my wanting to name the newsletter The Bull Sheet), but all in all it's a cohesive and functioning unit which has seen student life in SIM-UB flourish in many ways.

There are, however, exceptions.

I hate to critique any individual person on-line, but some things have gone on for long enough. Most of you also know that I rarely use names, and that won't change here (though the string of names earlier is different). For a long time, I had to deal with a certain individual who seemed intent on stirring controversy and purposefully brewing trouble and discontent among students in the more senior batches. The said individual is long-gone, and all the better, to many of us, though it seems that another has (not so) quietly emerged.

Like I said earlier, I (like several others) had originally joined the Student Council for material gains, for lack of a better word. But working with those I have named, however, and seeing the fruits of our labor come to actualization, I'll be damned if I let someone - anyone - defame or besmirch the Black and Gold shirts that so many have worked to earn.

What really irks me is that some people are so comfortable in sowing strife within an organization they are actually a part of, and I am left befuddled and lost for words as to why this is so. If you're so unhappy, so scornful, so pitifully angsty, you are free to leave. The option has been presented to you for ages, and it has always been the case. For any of us. And if it were up to me, I would have hauled your little snotty mouth out the door a long time ago.

This isn't the best way of addressing the issue of course. And there's a good chance that many of those involved in one way or another will never read or see or know this one little (?) note. But writing has always been a form of catharsis for me and many others, though I'm not going to let this die just with a few typed paragraphs. Some have called for stern action, others suggest letting it slide.

I'm NOT going to stand around and let a childish twit heckle and bitch about something I consider a part of me. Something I have personally put a large part of myself into (hold the jokes), and something I am genuinely proud to be a part of. I take it as a personal insult to me, my team, and every other person who has ever and will ever don the colors of the SIM-UB Student Council.

There we go.

Coralineeeeeee (Spoiler-free)

I've always wanted to do something for Halloween. People in school know that, and I continually remind them in the couple of months leading up to Halloween that I'd like everyone to dress up and come to class in costumes and the like. Clubbing on Halloween isn't my idea of a great time though, not with ridiculously long queues everywhere. This year though, I did do something slightly Halloween-ish, and I'll say that it was quite something.

I've always been a fan of Neil Gaiman. I love Sandman, read Neverwhere years ago, and also have gobbled up some of his other work with people like Terry Pratchet (Good Omens). Never been disappointed. That being said, though, I've never actually read Coraline before hearing about it being adapted to the animated film playing now.

That being said, I went into the film with very high expectations for the movie, but told myself I wold be disappointed regardless. Kinda like Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. However, I was very pleasantly surprised with the experience, and I can't really find anything wrong with it. Let's go through the movie step by step. Spoiler free, of course.

Before the movie began, a trailer for Avatar played. No, not the airbender, but something else from James Cameron. Looks really good, actually. But let's not get too sidetracked. But it was a good omen, and I do love movie trailers so.

As animated films go, this one didn't take my breath away like 9 did, though it's visually very pretty in its own unique way. Decidedly darker (even at its brightest) than, say, Up, every little thing sets the tone for a story that isn't exactly a children's tale. I actually didn't realise that Dakota Fanning and Teri Hatcher voiced the characters, which was a plus point. Not that I have anything against either of them (I am still a sucker for old school Lois & Clark reruns), but I always like to be surprised at cast members who aren't hyped.

Voice-wise, everything fits. Dakota Fanning does brilliantly as a complicated kid looking for something to spice up her life, bored to death by inattentive parents. Teri Hatcher's does great in her role(s) as well, and so does everyone else. Especially the cat. The music doesn't jump out at you like Up either, but is also generally nice, though melancholy, which is to be expected.

As far as the story goes, you have to expect a world vibrant and stunning when dealing with something coming out of Neil Gaiman's mind. Coraline delivers. Like a modern-day Alice in Wonderland (which I am also looking forward to), the Other World blows the mind in more ways than one. It reminds me of London Below from Neverwhere, and makes me wonder how in the hell someone can think up so many different things. The characters are all great and funny in their own unique way, and the caricature-like manner in which some are drawn adds to the effect.

The plot is surprisingly strong. Again, it's to be expected (at least I expected it) from something from Neil Gaiman, but we've all been disappointed before. Like I said earlier though, it isn't a children's tale, strictly speaking, and is definitely creepy and freaky in many ways. I wouldn't call it scary, but there are things which leave you haunted for a bit, and themes that aren't all rosy. It isn't a scary movie either, of course, but it's definitely something that can be enjoyed by many.

In most of my movie reviews I spend some time dissecting what went wrong in the one or two (or more) things that I have problems with in the given movie. It's hard to think of any here though, simply because everything seems to fit seamlessly. It's not too short or too long, songs are entertaining, the cat is awesome, there are no plot holes I can immediately pick out, and the 3D experience of Coraline is better than the one I had with Up, which was mildly disappointing. Here, many things stand out and leap into your lap, enhancing the whole experience.

All in all, I left the theatre thoroughly impressed and satisfied. I went in hoping for the best and expecting something sub-par, but was treated to a hundred minutes of fun, fright and fantasy. If you're contemplating watching Coraline, I would say it's your best bet looking at what else is showing right about now, other than The Hurt Locker. Definitely better than Darah or Lesbian Vampire Killers, at least.

COM 443: Another Reflection #2

Someone working in the advertising industry told me recently of her frustration that the vast majority of creative, innovative, inventive advertisements are rejected for the stale and mundane stuff most of us are subjected to when we turn on the TV or radio. I find that both disturbing and very disappointing.

But at the same time, expected.

Advertising is, if nothing else, highly subjective and above all else a business. That's one of the first things we learn about it, in the various courses and classes we've taken. But that's exactly what makes it such a difficult thing for students like me to tackle many a time.

Take, for example, the "ASIA" campaign that AIA has been plastering all over signboards, bus stops and print media. I, for one, got it right away but thought it stupid anyway. Others took much longer to see it, though that might just mean that they are less attuned to the ridiculous. And then it wins an award. Wow.

On the other hand, there are ads that many around me like for whatever reason, and these are the ads that are then said to be ineffectual, poor, horrible. What are we to make of this confusing trend? When "research" leads you astray, are you supposed to start from scratch? And just hope?

Of course, there is much, much more to this that I - that many of us - haven't fully grasped yet and I realize that there is every possibility that there's something glaringly obvious that I'm overlooking to make things less frustrating. In the end, though, the more I try and immerse myself into the world of advertising, the more jaded and disillusioned I become.

The guest speaker from Ogilvy was entertaining enough, though what he had to say wasn't exactly enlightening as it was mood-lightening. Of course, I've had the lovely benefit of often speaking to someone currently working at Ogilvy, so that plays a part. I told that person as well, as I alluded to in my earlier entry, of my supposed interest in the field. And of how it has waned.

What now, then? Ultimately there is still work to be done, and conceivably it might galvanize me to rekindle that spark that once was there. Or not.

It's all subjective.

Kites

I've never, for the life of me, been able to keep a kite airborne for longer than the split second it takes for gravity to reintroduce it to the ground. It's yet another entry in my long list of failures, though today I realized that I can draw parallels to the damn thing.

People close to me may know about certain happenings and occurrences going on now, many of which aren't exactly satisfactory to me. These people (and you readers) also know that I rarely go into graphic detail about anything when I write here, so forget any scandalous statements of glorious gossip. I'll just say that I hate being strung around and along, and going from sky-high to having a close-up chat with the dirt from one second to the next. I don't want to be a damn toy.

The fact that Man Utd failed to win also compounds the complications that come with a cellphone that is intent on self-termination, while classes and school which should be fun and enjoyable seem colorless and dull, dreary and repetitive, just shit in general. Just end, already.

Then there's dealing with the incessant pestering and pandering that certain lurking individuals revel in, while other irrational behavior that I conduct and observe remain just that, irrational.

Urgh.

COM 443: A Reflection #1

Professor Bob Armstrong, currently lecturing at SIM-UB, has requested that each of his students detail their experiences in his classes in an online fashion via a simple blog, and while some other have decided to set up entirely new ones for this purpose, the combination of me being too lazy and feeling quite satisfied with this current one led to me just sending him this here link.

Lengthy random introductory sentence aside, let's take a look at what we have.

I've made no secret of the fact that, for a long time, I've looked at the advertising industry with a combination of awe and desire. Ever since I learnt that a relative of mine had something to do with Jessica Alba being in a Singaporean commercial, that feeling has only escalated. This semester, though the advertising module that so many of us gleefully signed up for has been somewhat of a reality check.

Most of us are familiar with the instructor, jolly old Professor Armstrong, prone to the odd and erratic bout of singing and appreciative of a good Hollywood shootout. His somewhat ruthless and hectic schedule isn't a surprise to many of us either, though even the most experienced of us silly students would be hard-pressed to honestly say that they were well and truly prepared for this experience.

I'm not saying it's the most hellish course we've ever had to misfortune of sitting through (especially not after The Drooler and others...), but it's no walk in the park either. The fact that many of us have found ourselves in school early and/or late everyday finishing up projects and assignments, stressing over everything from HTML to tie colors, timing speeches to the second and cramming for 7.25% of the overall grade just adds to the general feeling of what exactly one would be up against in the industry.

Of course, I'm no expert at that, and for all I know our dear Professor could just be a sadistic and malicious prankster, aiming to give us early coronaries. But then my chats with my mystery friend from Ogilvy seems to confirm his assessment of the harsh and hard world of advertising.

One of the positives I can take away from the course so far, though, is the fact that the luck of the draw has been good for me. With the majority of the grade resting on a group performance, graded and assessed throughout the semester, the good Professor saw it fit to randomly group the class into teams of six to seven individuals. While it's fair and accurate to say that I'm not in my preferred combination and permutation of class-mates right now, I'm actually very pleased with the experience thus far. Good blend of talents and personalities, and it's given me the chance to grow closer to some people I wasn't as close to prior to the challenge.

Doesn't hurt, of course, that two of the top three from the recent SIM-UB Dinner & Dance Best Dressed competition are in there with me!

But that's it for now, got the aforementioned exam to cram for, when I get around to it.

Flavor of the Week

Lot has happened in the past seven days.

A week ago, Hari Raya came and went without incident, though the night of the first day was interesting, to say the least. The next few days saw hectic happenings in school and long nights outside. Dark rings and flu ensued, and I woke up at 2pm today, a feat only accomplished by a phone call that prevented me from sleeping through my Sunday.

But it's been a week to remember, for good and for bad, though really my only regret is how I didn't end it as well as I should have.

Question myself alot recently, wondering why I made some decisions, why some things happened, continue to happen. If others will or should.

Oh well.

Eventful

Past week or so has been interesting, to say the least. Alot of good and bad and everything in between, with surprising developments and frustrating obstructions. Decisions to make, things to turn away from, matters to settle too in the days to come. And I find myself spectacularly unmotivated.

I haven't watched Moon, probably won't have the time or company to. Hari Raya rounds are repetitively dull and inane. Certain people are getting increasingly difficult to tolerate. It's the little things that irritate me, and not a little.

Some people envy my position, some people don't know about it. I just want to sleep.

Spent a long time today talking to someone I've always thought of as a friend but who I never really bothered to really talk to prior to today, and I don't know why. Not why I talked to this person, but why I didn't before. Makes one think of what's been missed.

But also what was discussed, revealed, learnt, shared. Of how old, old, friends drift away and how everything seems infantile sometimes when you realize you're clutching at something you're not even sure is all there.

Too many things to do, too little drive to do it.

Something More

Sometimes it's the little things, the forgotten things, the things that have always been there but have never been paid attention to that suddenly jump out at you, painted in moonlight and keeping you up.

It's new, interesting, fun.

Play it by ear.

Clubbed to Death

Naz doesn't club. Naught, nein, nary.

Nope.

Today though, I said that I'd step into the club if everyone (and there were a shitload of people) did the same, and I didn't have to pay. Of course, as fate would have it, someone knew someone and I got that free pass that saw me stumble into a mostly-empty place which might as well have been an alien planet to me.

I was with friends, though, who had made a Pact not to indulge in any alcoholic behavior (well, most of them, at least), and who were the types who would keep promises made (again, most of them, at least).

We were joined by some newer friends, mostly excited, excitable younglings who seemed eager to raise the toxicity of their bloodstream. Eventually, one of them went past the point of no return and got herself quite sloshed. In record time, too.

A long time ago, I wrote something about girls, clubs, drinking, and how the three don't make for a very good combination, all things considered. That upset some people enough for me to take it down, not an everyday event, but maybe I'll revive it soon.

Probably the thing that annoys me the most, irritates me to no end, physically disgusts me is the guy that lurks around these excited girls waiting for one of them to get so hammered she is inebriated enough to not realize exactly who is around her at all times, but still in possession of the required mental capacity to stand and continue dancing.

This is when the afore-mentioned lurker swoops in for the save, chivalrously extending his trembling hands to the little girl's body whenever she looks like she is about to lose her footing. Or even when she isn't.

Sure, this happens all the time, you cry. Clubs are like that. Takes two hands to clap.

Doesn't change the fact that I have lost all respect for some people now, and those of you who have been paying attention know what that entails.

An Epiphany

Taking the train today, I was struck by a startling realization of what is perhaps the single most beneficial thing that driving offers over taking advantage of the public transport services in Singapore. No, it isn't avoiding the rush and crush of the busy crowd during peak periods. No, it isn't having to continually top up that little card as fares rise every few months. It isn't even being able to do without rude strangers and smelly mystery-men.

Instead, what I found, much to my chagrin, was that while on the train or bus, one will invariably stumble upon a girl/woman/thing with a false sense of hotness.

I'm not even talking about the standard bimbotic, prototypical walking make-up dispensers that parade themselves around random corridors like Singapore's Next (only?) Top Model. I'm referring to the females (and that's a stretch) who seem to consider themselves sex bombs, when they look more like they've been hit by a bomb.

Today was a prime example.

Strolling into the insanely empty train cabin, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye that must have blinded folks halfway to Malaysia. A large blob of colour, in skin tight jeans that did everything to highlight the rotundness of their owner's rear, standing with an expression that would have put royalty to shame. And this is from me, who has been told multiple times that I walk with a swagger.

If whales wore denim and excessive mascara, I would have thought one had beached in Kembangan, but oh no, the worst was still to come.

Enduring the sight all the way to where I eventually alighted, I was in for a shock. As if it wasn't bad enough trying to stare fixedly at a point that left her/it out of my peripheral vision (i.e. the floor), when I staggered out of those whooshing sliding doors that irritate me so, I was horrified to find that she was somehow in front of me and walking in the same direction!

Look down, look down, I told myself, and the advice seemed sensible enough, until I met with the contraption that left me wanting to gouge my eyes out with a belt buckle.

Escalator.

Turns out, Little Miss Whale was wearing a neon pink THONG.

How ludicrously and shockingly disgusting, yet expected, from someone whose folds could hide their spare change and whose foundation could probably shield them from nuclear fallout. As I contemplated what would happen if she fell backwards onto me (I have never done up a will, you see), the escalator reached its summit and the little pink strap was blissfully hidden from view again.

Come to think of it right now, I wonder how the thong was even visible. Wouldn't it have sunk into one of the... creases?

I went on with my day, which included watching District 9 (which is awesome) and sitting around with friends who played some acoustic music (also awesome), and all was forgotten.

Until I was on the ride home and saw a Chinese Mat.

Oh my.