Reactionaries of the World Disunite

I still can't locate for love of God the contemporary thinker (perhaps in my imagination) who is working on the concept of "reactionary." But I am flipping over this find in Wikipedia:

Tener un hijo
Plantar un árbol
Escribir un libro

["To have a son, to plant a tree, to write a book"] is the perfect "reactionary" pattern; a synthesis of patriarchalism, agriculture and artistry. (Liberty or Equality, von Kuehnelt-Leddihn, p. 186.)

Beautiful, isn't it? Meanwhile at Red Lion the German bar where I actually managed find vegetables to consume, I talked with Nicole about my fascination of the "third party" vis-a-vis the concept of neutrality in international relations as well as narrative theories like that espoused by Blanchot as my possible dissertation topic. Of course, as it is with alcohol, other options came up. Like working on Singapore cookbooks alongside my latest aspiration to become a "mafia silk-roadist) with a title like:

Ta da... "Mob cuisine on the Silk Road, Uncle lah"

Enough German-yellowness for the night, methinks. I shall try very hard not to open Hegel for my bedside-reading.

One more week...

before Fall term begins and my first year at USC ends. And I was wrong to think that there is somewhat an identifiable age when one turns to Nietzsche for self-help. Apparently still in my diapers-without-angst:

Thus spoke Zarathustra. And he waited all night for his unhappiness: but he waited in vain. The night remained clear and still and happiness itself drew nearer and nearer to him. Towards morning, however, Zarathustra laughed to his heart and said ironically: "Happiness runs after me. That is because I do not run after women. Happiness, however, is a woman" (Thus Spoke Zarathustra 183).

When I grow up to be a woman I want to read all these (in German?!) while living in a little cabin at Big Bear Mountains.

Notes of Late

Scavenging polemics, another (counter)point to self for future research: the history of mercenaries.

Regarding the rise in the employment of contractors in international peacekeeping:

The appropriate analogy to be drawn here may not be with old-style mercenaries or the French Foreign Legion but with ExxonMobil, Total, and other multinational corporations that assume some functions of the state in which they operate (Chesterman, IHT).

Viva Singlish

This week saw the mandatory (read: imperialistic) training for International Teaching Assistants. Rhetoric from last year's English proficiency examination has apparently not gone stale: Singapore and India cannot be countries exempted from the ITA examination because while English is acknowledged as the two countries' language of instruction, it is not the only language spoken there. In short, multi-lingualism is a penalty; colonialism did so much but still did not do enough. American and British accents are acceptable, but not others.

I presented on the term "différance" for my two-cents worth of martyrdom. And tomorrow for the exam, I intend to speak of the term "culture." However, apparently while my grammar is okay, I need to work on the pronunciation of my "r"s. "Are ITAs (to use the appellation you have decisively hailed me) thereby encouraged to adopt the American accent as soon as possible?" I asked the instructor after I got her feedback. Needless to say, her answer was both unsatisfactory and embarrassing.

I do not purport to have the perfect enunciation as that of a CNN reporter's (the instructor's example of what constitutes "perfection"). I stumble over my words all the time, which is not restricted only to the English language. Even my mother often asks me to repeat what I say in Chinese but it is more to do with the volume of my voice. Yes, my fat, native tongue accustomed to flat sentences and unstressed consonants will probably never inform you of the right tilt. But the last I checked, the term "American accent" would also have to include intonations varying from the west coast to the deep south. Hence as long as I can be understood -- if times when my presentation of long papers in front of a room of foreigners have yet made anyone flipping muddled -- I hope to never exchange my Singlish for something that only misunderstands, in the strongest sense of the word. For the question "how to break down the cultural barriers between you and your American students?" my answer was a resolute: "Well, don't." Ups yours, cultuRe.

Having said so, my grudges here do not rest on any claim that I am already an adequate TA. I am not going to say that one year of teaching in NUS suffices for much experience. To a certain extent, I am even a bit intrigued by the implications of this whole exercise, especially when different disciplines are mixed together. But it is the logic of the ITA training that bothers me. If they make this week compulsory only for international students then they cannot rely on the argument, which they do here and there, that it is "not really about language but about pedagogical teaching skills." This would have to mean a reconsideration of the specific "inter-nationalities" of their target group. The contradiction and compromise of this logic is, I'm afraid, self-explanatory. Needless to say, to discuss the direct co-relation between language and pedagogical skills is to open a can of worms. And it doesn't get any prettier whenever "culture" jumps in.

So what pulled me through to almost the end of this exhausting week? (besides skipping the sessions whenever I can, of course).

i)The thought of my dear mother reading Monolingualism of the Other when I was back home this summer -- in Chinese! When she asked me about a particular sentence, it was literally the apex of my entire graduate work, if there is to be any.

ii)The moment in Van Wilder 2 - Rise of the Taj when Pip, the asshole Earl at Camford, tells Taj that he is going to fight him the way his ancestors did, Taj reponds by saying, "You are going to economically exploit me?"


iii) Singapore's National Day. Eddie and I celebrated by buying Tiger Beer and watching The Eye. Happy 41st birthday Singapore, I miss you!!! Consumption of Tiger Beer was interrupted by dark chocolate beer, and the night was too by a sad news from a dear friend and a magnitude 4.5 earthquake!

Meanwhile, I'm leaving you with the Society for the Preservation of Authentic Singlish Manifesto: What's Wrong with Singlish anyways? As a reminder if my "r"s become too audible over the next few years here

templated

(Copyright: Dennis Stock/Magnum Pictures. Sourced from Slate)

I've forgotten how therapeutic doing html can be. ("Use your inner thigh muscles, James!") True in all fashions of late-coming, this page is finally linked.

Here's a shout out for a very dear friend, vandalized with one of yours truly's (very few) personal beliefs: there's no such thing as a dressing down. 'Overdressed' is a synecdoche.