Thursday, March 30, 2006
Rolling Stones - Satisfaction
“Do you seriously think that will work?”
Those were one of the first few words I heard from a certain person about my Final Year Project when I had just started on it and was experimenting with concepts. Now, this person had graduated from NUS with a degree in Engineering perhaps 2 or 3 years ago and was an employee of NUS, working in the same laboratory where I was based. He was, arguably, slightly more experienced even if he hadn’t yet worked in the engineering field, and had seen the work of previous teams before me. I had just taken over a project that, frankly speaking, wasn’t in very good shape. The basic idea was there, but the prototypes created so far weren’t useable at all. I had my work cut out for me, and then some.
That was about 1 year ago. Today, as I sit here typing this with the 1st draft of my thesis sitting beside my laptop (after several days and sleepless nights of last minute machining, testing and typing) , it’s time to take stock.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing. There were precious few precedents to go by and information on such things was scarce and patchy. Material disappeared into an eternal limbo in the United States Postal Service, and the workshop undertaking our machining was bogged down by a huge backlog and staff reshuffle, adding delay after delay. Many design iterations, educated (albeit sometimes lucky) guesses and lots of elbow grease went into creating the various prototypes that I tested and found somewhat unsatisfactory. Hours were spent at my cluttered drawing desk with pen and paper, scouring the libraries and Internet for inspiration or sitting in front of my computer screen doing 3D models, and also in the workshop undertaking some of the machining myself (with a steep learning curve) when I just couldn’t wait for things to get done.
Mine was probably one of the messier FYPs, which suited me just fine. After machining my hands would be covered with black grime that stubbornly resisted most forms of soap, and after testing my prototypes I’d end up with plenty of dust on my clothes and myself, looking more like a construction worker than an undergraduate student. Still, I was like a pig in the mud, perhaps in more than the figurative sense. Stuffy laboratory experiments and complex theoretical discourses aren’t my kind of thing, and this was right up my alley.
Finally, everything fell into place, and not a moment too soon. Days before the submission deadline for the first draft, the last iteration of my design was finally coming to life as finished products and machined components came pouring in. After putting it all together and doing some last minute testing, I finally had a prototype that could get the job done.
Which is why when I recalled the words of that certain person, who has since left for work elsewhere, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The war may not be over, but winning each battle brings with it a certain sense of satisfaction, even if there’s more to come.
Making stuff work gets me going. And yes, I think it works.
Those were one of the first few words I heard from a certain person about my Final Year Project when I had just started on it and was experimenting with concepts. Now, this person had graduated from NUS with a degree in Engineering perhaps 2 or 3 years ago and was an employee of NUS, working in the same laboratory where I was based. He was, arguably, slightly more experienced even if he hadn’t yet worked in the engineering field, and had seen the work of previous teams before me. I had just taken over a project that, frankly speaking, wasn’t in very good shape. The basic idea was there, but the prototypes created so far weren’t useable at all. I had my work cut out for me, and then some.
That was about 1 year ago. Today, as I sit here typing this with the 1st draft of my thesis sitting beside my laptop (after several days and sleepless nights of last minute machining, testing and typing) , it’s time to take stock.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing. There were precious few precedents to go by and information on such things was scarce and patchy. Material disappeared into an eternal limbo in the United States Postal Service, and the workshop undertaking our machining was bogged down by a huge backlog and staff reshuffle, adding delay after delay. Many design iterations, educated (albeit sometimes lucky) guesses and lots of elbow grease went into creating the various prototypes that I tested and found somewhat unsatisfactory. Hours were spent at my cluttered drawing desk with pen and paper, scouring the libraries and Internet for inspiration or sitting in front of my computer screen doing 3D models, and also in the workshop undertaking some of the machining myself (with a steep learning curve) when I just couldn’t wait for things to get done.
Mine was probably one of the messier FYPs, which suited me just fine. After machining my hands would be covered with black grime that stubbornly resisted most forms of soap, and after testing my prototypes I’d end up with plenty of dust on my clothes and myself, looking more like a construction worker than an undergraduate student. Still, I was like a pig in the mud, perhaps in more than the figurative sense. Stuffy laboratory experiments and complex theoretical discourses aren’t my kind of thing, and this was right up my alley.
Finally, everything fell into place, and not a moment too soon. Days before the submission deadline for the first draft, the last iteration of my design was finally coming to life as finished products and machined components came pouring in. After putting it all together and doing some last minute testing, I finally had a prototype that could get the job done.
Which is why when I recalled the words of that certain person, who has since left for work elsewhere, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The war may not be over, but winning each battle brings with it a certain sense of satisfaction, even if there’s more to come.
Making stuff work gets me going. And yes, I think it works.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
For King and Country
Yet more forays on Youtube.
While I was searching for some videos of ZZ Top, this one came up. Of course, the 2 bearded fellows did their usual blues-rock thing with panache, but the other 2 fellows got me curious. Cowboy hats, flame-motif shirts and of course, a Telecaster to complete the whole psycho-billy guitar-slinger look. Naturally, I had to check out these guys who went by the stage name of Brooks and Dunn.
I’m not familiar with today’s country music apart from a disdain for Shania Twain. The impression I got from reading forums (mostly guitar-based) and reviews was that the sounds coming out of Nashville today are a sudden departure from the traditional country sound, to the dismay of many a traditionalist. Criticisms such as inane song-writing, soulless instrumentation and over-production akin to mainstream pop were all leveled at the current country scene. Not very promising.
Which was why I was quite surprised to hear some of the Brooks and Dunn songs and videos. While it’s true that some of them are slickly packaged MTV friendly tunes designed to go down well with a mainstream crowd (one or two of them do remind me of the awful shmuck that I abhor on the radio waves), the rest do have some musical credibility to them. They don’t really stick to the traditional country sound though they do have a pedal-steel player and a fiddler, but if you look at it for what it is it’s actually quite listenable. Some blues boogie-woogie piano sounds and raunchy slide guitar work find their way into Boot Scootin’ Boogie, while Play Something Country brings on the rock side of it, on top of being the soundtrack to a testosterone-laden dream. Even though Ain't Nothing 'Bout You sounds suspiciously like some LeAnn Rimes song, the lyrics make a lot more sense even if they're simple. As long as you leave your expectations of an old-school country band at the door (if you have one), you’ll find something to like. If for nothing else at all, at least for the fact that they're a band actually playing their own instruments in this age of scratchy turntables and electronic noise.
Apart from the abovementioned expedition into the current scene, I also jumped into a time machine back to the 1930s to check out Django Reinhardt, one of the most recognizable names in gypsy jazz. A virtuoso guitar player who did a lot more with his 2 intact left fingers than most people can with 4, he was probably the defining force in the genre. While it’s not exactly a very popular one, it’s nevertheless being carried on by many talented practitioners today such as John Jorgenson, whom I managed to catch in Singapore. It was a mightily impressive performance, being my first time watching such music being played live, though perhaps a better venue could have been chosen. Anywhere other than a loud rock bar with its usual crowd.
I guess sometimes a little bit of exploration is good for the musical self, and by extension the human self. Stepping out of the comfort zone once in a while can be a source of comfort in itself.
While I was searching for some videos of ZZ Top, this one came up. Of course, the 2 bearded fellows did their usual blues-rock thing with panache, but the other 2 fellows got me curious. Cowboy hats, flame-motif shirts and of course, a Telecaster to complete the whole psycho-billy guitar-slinger look. Naturally, I had to check out these guys who went by the stage name of Brooks and Dunn.
I’m not familiar with today’s country music apart from a disdain for Shania Twain. The impression I got from reading forums (mostly guitar-based) and reviews was that the sounds coming out of Nashville today are a sudden departure from the traditional country sound, to the dismay of many a traditionalist. Criticisms such as inane song-writing, soulless instrumentation and over-production akin to mainstream pop were all leveled at the current country scene. Not very promising.
Which was why I was quite surprised to hear some of the Brooks and Dunn songs and videos. While it’s true that some of them are slickly packaged MTV friendly tunes designed to go down well with a mainstream crowd (one or two of them do remind me of the awful shmuck that I abhor on the radio waves), the rest do have some musical credibility to them. They don’t really stick to the traditional country sound though they do have a pedal-steel player and a fiddler, but if you look at it for what it is it’s actually quite listenable. Some blues boogie-woogie piano sounds and raunchy slide guitar work find their way into Boot Scootin’ Boogie, while Play Something Country brings on the rock side of it, on top of being the soundtrack to a testosterone-laden dream. Even though Ain't Nothing 'Bout You sounds suspiciously like some LeAnn Rimes song, the lyrics make a lot more sense even if they're simple. As long as you leave your expectations of an old-school country band at the door (if you have one), you’ll find something to like. If for nothing else at all, at least for the fact that they're a band actually playing their own instruments in this age of scratchy turntables and electronic noise.
Apart from the abovementioned expedition into the current scene, I also jumped into a time machine back to the 1930s to check out Django Reinhardt, one of the most recognizable names in gypsy jazz. A virtuoso guitar player who did a lot more with his 2 intact left fingers than most people can with 4, he was probably the defining force in the genre. While it’s not exactly a very popular one, it’s nevertheless being carried on by many talented practitioners today such as John Jorgenson, whom I managed to catch in Singapore. It was a mightily impressive performance, being my first time watching such music being played live, though perhaps a better venue could have been chosen. Anywhere other than a loud rock bar with its usual crowd.
I guess sometimes a little bit of exploration is good for the musical self, and by extension the human self. Stepping out of the comfort zone once in a while can be a source of comfort in itself.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Dire Straits - Money for Nothing
I finally managed to get out of school for my Friday afternoon happy hour at Brewerkz after many weeks of involuntary abstinence. As I made my way, a particular advertisement poster caught my eye, with a huge print of a SGD$50 bill and the words:
“Why work for cash?”
An instinctive voice at the back of my head immediately shouted back “If not for cash then what else?” There didn’t seem to be anything else elaborating what it was, so I left it at that and trooped on down to the watering hole.
As usual, I sat at the bar and pored over the Straits Times at a leisurely pace, over a few pints. Once again the same advertisement graced the front page of one of the sections, this time with the tagline:
“When you can shop for cash?”
Now this had me curious. Upon reading the fine print I realized that it was some advertisement for yet another credit card, this time launched by a local property company. I don’t quite remember the perks that they offered, but the general idea was to get people to spend more money with the help of yet another bonus points/benefits scheme. One that I distinctly remember though, was:
“Free massage and coffee*
*Terms and conditions apply”
Absolutely ridiculous. Is this what it’s come to?
This may sound absurd but credit cards are being touted everywhere like fake watches. Just take a walk down Orchard Road on a weekend and chances are you’ll be approached by several persistent credit card pushers trying to flog their wares. These cards are being issued by banks and credit card companies, all competing to give the most “benefits” and “perks” and claiming their cards to be a must-have “lifestyle” item. It gets even more incredible. I distinctly remember one card being marketed on the basis of its…small physical size. Really.
The film advertisements invariably show well-groomed, well-heeled people living it up in style, strutting across the screen in glamorous outfits, frolicking on picture-perfect beaches in bikinis (I don’t mind that part) or lounging on a flashy yacht on a sea that strangely seems as calm as a swimming pool.
Several groups are being singled out for aggressive marketing, most notably working women, highly-paid yuppies and those new to the workforce looking to spend their first few paychecks. It didn’t take long for them to realize that to get to the freshest apples you skip the barrel and go straight to the tree, so now they come to university campuses as well.
I don’t have anything against credit cards per se, but the way they market it makes me sick. They shamelessly trumpet all the good stuff and swag and appeal to a very basic human impulse, the desire to get more for less, or something for nothing, with scant mention of the financial responsibility needed. It's almost like selling someone a gun without telling them which way to point it (then again, I might be underestimating the capacity of human stupidity). I guess that’s the logic behind the abovementioned advertising catchphrase.
Add to this whole mess the up-and-coming casino to be built and you’ve got a recipe for something I wouldn’t eat.
That’s why I’ve decided to hold off on getting a credit card for as long as I can. All this unabashed crass materialism manifesting itself in every possible form has somehow had the reverse effect on me. Call me cynical, but I honestly believe that the only money you can call yours is the cash you have in your pocket, not the money somebody’s willing to lend you or the money you’ve already spent.
To top off the irony quotient for the day, the same section in the newspaper bearing that advertisement had a large article about the alarming non-decline in the number of teen and youth suicides per year.
Maybe I was a beatnik / hippie in a previous life. Well, at least I’ve got the goatee.
“Why work for cash?”
An instinctive voice at the back of my head immediately shouted back “If not for cash then what else?” There didn’t seem to be anything else elaborating what it was, so I left it at that and trooped on down to the watering hole.
As usual, I sat at the bar and pored over the Straits Times at a leisurely pace, over a few pints. Once again the same advertisement graced the front page of one of the sections, this time with the tagline:
“When you can shop for cash?”
Now this had me curious. Upon reading the fine print I realized that it was some advertisement for yet another credit card, this time launched by a local property company. I don’t quite remember the perks that they offered, but the general idea was to get people to spend more money with the help of yet another bonus points/benefits scheme. One that I distinctly remember though, was:
“Free massage and coffee*
*Terms and conditions apply”
Absolutely ridiculous. Is this what it’s come to?
This may sound absurd but credit cards are being touted everywhere like fake watches. Just take a walk down Orchard Road on a weekend and chances are you’ll be approached by several persistent credit card pushers trying to flog their wares. These cards are being issued by banks and credit card companies, all competing to give the most “benefits” and “perks” and claiming their cards to be a must-have “lifestyle” item. It gets even more incredible. I distinctly remember one card being marketed on the basis of its…small physical size. Really.
The film advertisements invariably show well-groomed, well-heeled people living it up in style, strutting across the screen in glamorous outfits, frolicking on picture-perfect beaches in bikinis (I don’t mind that part) or lounging on a flashy yacht on a sea that strangely seems as calm as a swimming pool.
Several groups are being singled out for aggressive marketing, most notably working women, highly-paid yuppies and those new to the workforce looking to spend their first few paychecks. It didn’t take long for them to realize that to get to the freshest apples you skip the barrel and go straight to the tree, so now they come to university campuses as well.
I don’t have anything against credit cards per se, but the way they market it makes me sick. They shamelessly trumpet all the good stuff and swag and appeal to a very basic human impulse, the desire to get more for less, or something for nothing, with scant mention of the financial responsibility needed. It's almost like selling someone a gun without telling them which way to point it (then again, I might be underestimating the capacity of human stupidity). I guess that’s the logic behind the abovementioned advertising catchphrase.
Add to this whole mess the up-and-coming casino to be built and you’ve got a recipe for something I wouldn’t eat.
That’s why I’ve decided to hold off on getting a credit card for as long as I can. All this unabashed crass materialism manifesting itself in every possible form has somehow had the reverse effect on me. Call me cynical, but I honestly believe that the only money you can call yours is the cash you have in your pocket, not the money somebody’s willing to lend you or the money you’ve already spent.
To top off the irony quotient for the day, the same section in the newspaper bearing that advertisement had a large article about the alarming non-decline in the number of teen and youth suicides per year.
Maybe I was a beatnik / hippie in a previous life. Well, at least I’ve got the goatee.
