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Archive for April, 2010

Lost & Found Pound?

30 Apr

Here’s a scenario all too familiar to us Victorians:

You log onto the Internet by opening our web browser of choice and immediately open new tabs. Facebook, VJ Gmail (or some other email, if you’re into mail forwarding), Twitter and the school blog, Subjectif (well, maybe not, but us bloggers sure can hope, right?).

What’s this in my VJ mail? you murmur. Another bunch of hysterical, desperate Victorians who have lost their wallet/thumbdrive/handphone/*insert item here*.

If you have more than just a little patience, you might make a mental note to yourself of the colour or nature of the missing object in question. Or, does it goes straight into the trash bin without a second glance?

Back in the days (read: last year), my inbox was relatively clean of such hysterical mass annoucements.

I can definitely sympathise with the poor people whose precious items have made a wrong turn and ended up in A Place Called Here. I’m as careless as the next author of a ‘Missing’ email. I’d lost my wallet twice in two years, and both times I was fortunate enough to find them back on the same day I’d discovered it missing. The first time I frantically made trips to the GO and around places I thought I’d left it at, but eventually found it in the Lost and Found box in the SC room. The second, an indirect senior of mine Willie Khoo (Thanks Willie!) came across it and had it exchanged through a series of people before it found its way back to me. Just last week, I left my file on an SBS bus, but that’s another story. (I did find it, thank goodness for their efficient system. Plus, who’d want my Chem notes anyway…)

It’s not that I’m disgruntled with these announcements cluttering up my mailbox, but it does seem like a rather inefficient way of finding your lost item.

Honestly, in the panic of losing your beloved PE shirt/thumbdrive/soft toy and running around amok looking for it, we all rely on the community to help return it. Somehow, in the digital age, ‘Lost!’ posters on notice boards have given way to spammage of emails in your VJ mail. Guess that’s the way it is…?

 
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VJC-Canon Exposé III

19 Apr

As you may or may not know, the third VJC-Canon Exposé, a photography exhibition collaboration by Photosoc and Canon, was held in VJC last Saturday. It was a day where student and teacher photography enthusiasts were out in force learning new techniques and sharing their photography skills with one another.

One of the highlights of the event was the launching of the Canon EOS Academy Portal, where students and teachers across Singapore can share photographs and exchange tips on taking the best photographs.

Video SLRs were also introduced during the event, where lucky participants got to try their hands at taking videos with SLRs in a workshop conducted by Mr Yeo Wee Han, a local photo-videographer from Canon. Filming with SLRs is definitely a different experience than filming with video cameras, as the participants got to find out and experience firsthand.

If  you had been there, you would have had been treated to the sight of cars such as a BMW and a Lamborghini parked in VJC’s bus bay, where shutterbugs were eagerly taking photographs of the shiny cars and the people milling around the cars were oohing and aahing at sleekness of the cars.

Events are never complete without freebies, and excluding the Canon goodie bag that every participant got, stations were set up where photographers could print out an A4 print of one of their photos. There were also free cleaning services for photographers with Canon SLRs. Fantastic prizes were also given away in the lucky draw – 2 lucky students walked away with a Crumpler camera bag each.

All in all, it was a fantastic experience for newbies and old hands alike. Kudos to Photosoc and Canon for providing students and teachers from all over Singapore such an eye-opening experience, and we hope to see a VJC-Canon Exposé IV in VJC next year!

 
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Big Brother is Watching You

17 Apr

The barbed wire fences line the perimeter of the compound. A pristine white two-level box is detached from the main building. Its sterile look resembles that of gas chambers. The pungent smell of toxins and chemicals contained within are vestiges of some forgotten massacre. It is dictated that 12:45 is the magic number in which no captive should leave the restricted area.

One might question the presence of escape routes. There are, indeed but chances are slim. The only unscreened areas are grossly red and scream “Keep away!”  The bars are deliberately built diagonal, much to the amusement of those who witness people sliding leftwards. Another incentive to pass pull-ups for NAPFA.

Yes, this is the modern day version of a concentration camp with high security.

If one has been groggily unaware, the people pressing their thumbs to technical gadgets protruding from the walls just outside the 1st level washrooms, are actually subjects of a scientific experiment to gauge the efficiency of monitoring our every move and confirm our identity. Needless to say, before this was deduced to be so, multiple interpretations arose. My friend thought odd martians were wondering around, fiddling with the electrical impulses in our schools. Alas, they are successful in meddling with the WIFI (or absence of) connection in the concourse and disrupting the abundance of signals that radiate from LT5. Of course, this also explains the screeching siren at approximately 3.31pm, 16/04/10.  Aha! This is also the very reason that enthusiastic people giving out flyers at the school gates dare not intrude into this personal alcove of ours.

At the very least, personal monitoring is accompanied with excellent service. A bright cheery female voice responds with a saccharine voice, overtly thankful for our arrival in schools. After hearing her voice, we melt, why did we even think of the option of ponning?

One feels a sense of surreal reality. True, it is very GATTACCA. Soon, one has to purge oneself of all alien hair to remain aligned to his/her identity.

Ponder on this: “Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in, to prevent them from leaving us.” – President John F. Kennedy in his speech “Ich bin ein Berliner” on June 26, 1963. Parallel drawn. Will we one day, come to a state of utopia that people would enjoy school and not want to leave? Hmm…


Attached Files:

 
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The Story of the Rogue Alarm: What if the fire started in the parade square?

16 Apr

When I picked up my timetable this year, I was oh-so-delighted to discover that the right side of my timetable was quite filled. Case in point- I end school at 4.50pm on Monday and 5.25pm for the last two days of the week.

Yes, stop laughing, my timetable is the pits. But hey, you get more out of this college when you stay back a little longer- Jancy’s 6pm announcements for Thaipan orders, the melodies of the Chinese Orchestra and the String Ensemble amalgamated (teehee) within the T Block… and today, I experienced something even more special.

So my class was having History Tutorial and everyone was pretty much struggling to stay awake, as we are wont to do at 3.30pm in the afternoon. We were learning about the Korean War, a devastating war in, well Korea, and our teacher had just gotten to the most crucial part of this whole crisis when…

WHUARWHUARWHUARWHUARWHUAR

(or something to that effect)

An emergency alarm started blaring.

At 3.31pm.

Very loudly.

To provide some context, we were having our class in E13- a History classroom on the first floor of the Electives Hub block which is, well, roughly the size of a T block toilet, I kid you not. But it has its advantages- I once hung out in there during a thunderstorm and it was all peace and tranquility inside. Yes, it is that soundproof.

And right there in E13, that alarm blasted us straight in the face in that WHUARWHUARWHUARWHUARWHUAR fashion.

First, the ‘Fire Drill’ reaction. There was a tone of excitement in everyone’s voice as we speculated, “Fire Drill? Now?” Some of us started packing up casually. Our teacher dismissed it as a false alarm and tried to continue teaching.

Then, the ‘Uh oh’ phase. My classmate interrupted, “What if it could be real?” Imaginations ran wild as the image of a science lab being devoured by flames danced around in our minds. One of us asked our teacher to leave the door open so that we could run out to the parade square if the emergency was a genuine one. Which, to that, I pointed out, “What if the fire started in the parade square?” We heard the people from Guitar Ensemble/ Choir outside panicking mildly. My teacher called the General Office.

Finally, the ‘CHEY!’.

False alarm.

So life went on and we were split into groups for discussions. But E13, being small and cramped and thus echoey, was not a conducive environment… so some of us ventured out.

To be greeted ungraciously by the blaring of the alarm.

MOV01251

The alarm finally died an abrupt and welcome death at 3.37pm, leaving our ears ringing in the aftermath.

And that ends the account of the misbehaving alarm.

To end this post off, allow me to reproduce a (rather cheerful) note on the whiteboard by Miss Goh Hui Hua that may be of concern to some of us (verbatim, may I add):

To users of E13,

Please do not push the vent of the aircon up as this may spoil the aircon. If skinny+cold, wear a jacket for @#$%’s sake. If I catch the idiots who have been doing this, you sit outside the classroom.

Yep. Take note, Victorians!

Attached Files:

  • mp4 MOV01251

    Enjoy and learn (especially from the discussion going on in the background which was fighting to be heard in the noise)

 
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Happenings in a container classroom on a lazy afternoon

10 Apr

A literature class was discussing the following poem quite animatedly last Thursday:

Recognition, by Carol Ann Duffy

Things get away from one.
I’ve let myself go, I know.
Children? I’ve had three
and I don’t even know them.

I strain to remember a time
when my body felt lighter.
Years. My face is swollen
with regrets. I put powder on,

but it flakes off. I love him,
through habit, but the proof
has evaporated. He gets upset.
I tried to do all the essentials

on one trip. Foolish, yes,
but I was weepy all morning.
Quiche. A blond boy swung me up
in his arms and promised the earth.

You see, this came back to me
as I stood on the scales.
I wept. Shallots. In the window,
creamy ladies held a pose

which left me clogged and old.
The waste. I’d forgotten my purse,
fumbled; the shopgirl gaped at me,
compassionless. Claret. I blushed.

Cheese. Kleenex. It did happen.
I lay in my slip on wet grass,
laughing. Years. I had to rush out,
blind in a hot flush, and bumped

into an anxious, dowdy matron
who touched the cold mirror
and stared at me. Stared
and said I’m sorry sorry sorry.

After it was suggested to the class that “I lay in my slip on wet grass, / laughing.”, one thing led to another and soon EVERYTHING started happening. Sexual innuendos were suddenly unearthed. People started talking about weepy Korean dramas and menopause. Cheese and the dowdy matron obtained sexual significtions. A discussion about alcohol and dessert sprung up. A poem about the indignation of having one’s coloured markers messed up was read out to a rapt audience. People giggled, tittered, screamed, stamped their feet and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. It was utterly random, as 17-year-olds have a right to be.

 
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Laryngitis can be fun.

08 Apr

The following may be of importance to you, especially so if you are a JC1.

A list of things you may require tomorrow:

- Water
- Strepsils
- More water

… HOCKEY GIRLS FINALS AGAINST ACJC TOMORROW!

My class has been exempted for lessons – needless to say, I’m way excited! Let’s scream our lungs out to show support for them, and hopefully they’ll win for the 8th consecutive time! (or was it the 9th? I forget.) Regardless of whether they win or not, though, we’re all superbly proud of them, so GO HOCKEY GIRLS! :D

When the going gets tough, DON’T STOP BELIEVING!

(Oops, I seem to be one of those who’ve caught the Glee bug.)

 
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R.I.P

02 Apr

Police crime scene report

All that remained of the victim was a head. Body was nowhere to be found. Red shreds were found on the floor near the crime scene. Red shreds ascertained to be victim’s hair. Sweets were found on the floor, source undetermined. Tables arranged in an odd formation around the crime scene as if an illegal gathering has occurred.

Autopsy report

Victim was found with severe scarring around neck. Tool used determined to be rope. Upon close examination, head contents were half-emptied. Brain was sweetly intact. Eyes were widened in shock. Mouth gaped open in fear. Coroner requests for body to be found so as to pursue further investigation.

Eyewitness’s account

There he was, hanging piteously. He was lynched, a victim of Victorian discrimination. He was clearly dead already, his body oscillated with the wind’s breathing. 2 people, identified at Lim Cheng Yee of 09v15 and Ramesh (surname unbeknownst) of 09v11 facilitated the act that followed. A bat was offered to bystanders who stepped forward bravely to participate in the crime. An adult woman, identified as the head of PSG took the first swipe at him and failed terribly. Her accomplice tried, with greater success. The victim’s hair sprayed into the air and cascaded down like confetti. It was evident that a bat was not sufficient. A soccer girl Lynette took her friend’s crutch to bring it down. She managed the foot. His innards were gorged out. A seemingly bespectacled man stepped forward to unleash his power. It was here that his innermost desires surfaced. A blindfold was wrapped around his eyes but no, this was never an obstruction. He stabled the lynched man, and with all his might threw multiple beatings upon the poor guy. Even as the blindfold slipped off his head, he was insatiable. He would not throw in the towel. The mustering up of his strength, together with his clear vision, enabled him to completely decapitate the lynched man. More innards cascaded down. Cheers rose from the jeering crowd, apparently entertained by the violence.

With the head left, one could not help but feel sympathy. Bystanders lurched forward like vultures to gather his innards as keepsakes. The crowd dissipated, leaving only a slight melancholic air behind.

A condolence to his fans is that he went with much fanfare. The perpetrators really sent him off with a blast. His funeral was a tad morbid, but more celebratory in nature. Free ice-cream was handed out. Maybe in Elmo’s world, this is how they send off dead people (or characters). It may be a Sesame Street ritual after all.

One ponders on the death of Elmo. Did any deserve to suffer such cruel fate, or go in such a tragic manner?  What was the motive? Ah, it could be people who wanted to avenge the music industry, and in killing Elmo, hoped to eliminate the pervasive whiny song that centers solely around him. Still, Elmo, you will be dearly missed.

Other possible ways to kill Elmo (more humane ones, at that):

  1. Allow him to freeze in the Igloo
  2. Throw him onto the pitch in the midst of the soccer match

To innocent bystanders who are utterly desolate and lost on the ongoing happenings, you have just received an account on the whacking of the Elmo piñata, scheduled at 2.30pm 1st April 2010 in the canteen, in conjunction with Igloo’s anniversary. Hope you were thoroughly entertained! Happy (albeit belated) April Fool’s Day! No personal attacks intended. (:

 
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