Knowledge is not intelligence all right

We were talking about a professor, and I commented that, given his public persona, he seems the profound, intelligent sort. Is he?

Not one to let an opinion goes unchallenged, she replied almost matter-of-factly: 'Someone who is knowledgeable may not be intelligent.'

Me: That is quotable and i shall quote you.

She (smiling): I've quite some friends who also felt that (what i say can be quoted)

Me (smiling): That shall be quoted, too.

21 more minutes of...

sinful photos

I love food and colours!

Ye Shanghai

The famous Oriental Pearl TV Tower and nearby buildings viewed from the Bund. This scene has invariably become the modern image of Shanghai, I believe.

I was, however, more intrigued by the sight of the glowing buildings along the bund (see below). The view was truly mesmerising; the buildings that followed the road down were of different architectural designs, and they shone, literally, in Shanghai night. It was evocative of a flourishing and ostentatiously bustling Shanghai in its early years, replete with exciting stories of wealth and crime.

in transit

Now at Changi T3. Really in transit, almost. Next to me, outside the floor-to-ceiling glass panel (which by the way, looks so clear it must be wiped quite often) is a Singapore Airlines plane that looks so big this close. Airbus? I don't know. I do know i've got to go to the gate now or else I can stay here and stare at the plane forever. bye!

The BCR Ride Report - 8 Oct 08‏

With permission from the author, I reproduce here his fine ride report, which after reading (i first received it exactly a month ago in my mailbox) I resolved not to ride with these speed demons anytime soon. I had not been riding for what seemed like an eternity, and this report I read, literally, as a provocation, a reminder of how far behind them, i mean time, that I've become.

Note: Names have been altered to protect the persons from being identified and pursued by other riders looking for a good challenge. Of course, they (the author and the named in the report) wouldn't care less about others, who surely must be inconsequential.

Yours truly.

______________________

You may ask... what does BCR stand for?

But upon learning the identity of the "Trainer", you would go... "ah-ha! BIG CHAIN RING!"

Leaving my house at 830pm, I should have anticipated the pace. After all, it was a "Kenneth" ride. Having the luxury of pedalling leisurely, I wound my way slowly through Chancery, admiring the grand houses, and then continued along Bt Timah Rd towards the rendezvous point, KAP MacDonalds. Savouring the joys of the cool air AND the relaxed pace, I arrived a couple of minutes early. Shortly after, all dreams of a leisurely ride were shattered.

Kenneth arrived and we briskly took off, heading towards Mandai. He showed no mercy and spared no thought for the heavy traffic along the initial portion of the ride - he SPED. As I frantically panted after him, giving everything I had to keep up, he deftly accelerated up the hills and descended even faster. With the immense exertion on my part, the waterfall started. Blinking to keep the sweat from my eyes, or was it the tears of pain from the agony in my lungs and legs, I could have sworn that for many moments, the blurry figure of Kenneth in front of me morphed into... J!

Can't be wrong, I tell myself, but the speedo read 37kmh. And to my dear readers, this was along a flat road. Or should I say, ALL the flat roadS. Never letting the speed drop below 35kmh, we reached Mandai and started climbing the hills. "Go on ahead, dont wait" was all i could manage to grunt out, in between panting. J... I mean Kenneth, slowed down at the crest of each hill and patiently slowed down for me to catch up.

I tell myself - (yes dreaming helps to ease the pain) - Kenneth & J should set up their bike shop. They could make tons of money by demo-ing heavy steel bikes - "see? this steel bike may be 15kg, but it is a special and VERY fast bike - it goes effortlessly at 40kmh - better than these new fangled carbon machines that struggle at 35kmh - hence the steel bike costs more - special for you, only US$10,000"......

With my mind tuning out the pain, I managed to finish Mandai & Thomson and we finally reached our end point - Adam Road hawker centre. As I stumbled in and heavily plonked myself down on the nearest empty seat, the lady at the next table glanced disgustedly at me - all dripping wet and yucky - such a contrast to Kenneth all fresh as a daisy. We had cold watermelon juice and chatted about the vietnam trip in December. And the chng tng was sublime... we have to return.

--- the end ---

Space Apart

The Quintessential taste of New Orleans

So said my atas (bourgeoisie) friend, who recommended the drink Mint Julep to me when i was going through the cocktail menu.

Being the absolutely ignorant peasant that I am - my esteemed friend has taken upon himself to elevate me from existing to living - I asked in earnest what the 'quintessential taste of New Orleans' is and how the recommended drink gives off that 'quintessential taste'. Whereupon my friend begain a slight introduction on the history of New Orleans (slaves, plantations etc). I was not the least bit tipsy, but I promptly forgot his entire explanation. After all, could i seriously be blamed if the atmoshere of the luxury bar was intoxicating my senses?

We had just finished our glass of Yamazaki Whisky. Earlier, my esteemed friend patiently explained to me the difference between a fine whisky and a lousy one (you could feel the latter which runs down your throat and leaves an irritating sensation). He even commented on the single, solid ice cube that accompanied the Whisky; it must surely be something about how it complemented the whisky.

I held the glass in my hand and took the first sip gingerly, like an excited but clueless proletariat who is tasting epicurean cuisine for the first time.

'Gulp.' I took a small amount, swirled it a little, felt and tasted it, then finally letting it run down my throat, believing that the sensation was, well, superior. I was trying my best to look the wise and appreciative, which must surely be de riguer for the atmosphere.

A fine evening it was, and I had been shown how to live, not just exist. In case you are mistaken, my esteemed friend was good company, and I had a relaxing night in a totally chill-out place.

Now, I just need to taste lousy whisky to appreciate a good whisky next.

Trance City