Announcement: Out With It.

September 4, 2009 at 3:50 pm | Posted in Thoughts | 13 Comments
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Back to the bookies- no, books

Back to the bookies- no, books

After hours of futilely attempting to access the online exam results checker (I no longer have the energy to rant about how useless the University’s web-designers are) only to be greeted with a cheerful ‘Error 404’ or be redirected to the insipid site map, I finally made it in.

It was a bit of an anti-climax. It’s not that deep-down I secretly wished for a string of red marks, but after all the fantasies I’ve entertained during this three month long holiday of ditching all my responsibilities, whether familial or financial, and heading overseas for some travel-therapy, whether by plucking kiwis in Zealand or feeding horses in Kyrgyzstan… ah well.

I qualified for the second year, and that’s what’s important. I failed one subject, Public Law, the one subject I thought I liked until up to the moment when I sat writing essays for it in the exam hall thinking, ‘how could they have made something that had so much potential for being fun into something as drab as this?’ and promptly decided to commit suicide by choosing to attempt the most difficult question available.

What’s really funny is that I passed the other subject I thought I’d fail, Criminal Law. I really couldn’t stand the subject, perhaps more so than the others. On the other end of the spectrum, I obtained a (Supposedly) respectable score of 53 for Contract Law, my highest score for all four papers.

It’s actually a good thing that I failed Public, though. There isn’t that much to cram, after all. The referral exam will be in October, I think. That’s enough time to study for it- $%&* isn’t that one month away?! For the love of &%$#*…… alright, calm down. Easy does it. Looks like I’ll have to hit the books now, so good-bye, although I don’t think I’ll be ‘away’ as much as I should.

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Death by Honey

May 19, 2009 at 2:54 pm | Posted in Thoughts | 5 Comments
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Epiphany: The best thoughts at the oddest possible moment, like:

“The best way to kill someone: drown him/her in a giant pot of boiling honey. Provide goggles for best effect, and pot should be transparent.”

…This post to be dissected and filled up in due time.

…Such random thoughts flitted through my mind as I went through my first paper on the 13th of May, at the most cruel time of 9 in the morning. It’s worth mentioning that we were also required to be there at least 20 minutes before the paper was to start, for them to spew out the examination rules. And according to the examination docket from London, the paper is actually supposed to start at 10. Bah.

Well, never mind that. I’d been reading like mad for the past few days, drumming case after case into my miserable (from all the studying) mind. But, I thought, this should be doable. I’ll get through alright. I did get through the paper. But it was madness, and I came out with a horrible feeling in my gut. I might actually fail this paper. Went home and crash-landed on my bed.

The next paper was on the 15th, Public Law, the subject I disliked the least, for it’s political leanings. However, the previous two days spent on reading up on it had left me drained and down- I couldn’t believe I’d ever looked kindly on the subject when the raw material was just so boring. I forced myself to read everything I had, and ended up wondering whether I’d made a horrible mistake by signing up for a law degree (Something that’s occurred to me many times in the past). The paper was- I don’t know, good or bad? More of the small topics (which I wasn’t very familiar with) and less of the major ones- it didn’t help that I intentionally went and did what was widely considered to be the hardest question in the bunch in a fit of desperation and perhaps temporary insanity… but never mind.

Next up, Common Law Reasoning and Institutions on the 19th. Why the long name? Don’t ask me. This one was considerably better than the first two, and definitely put a spring into my step. I wasn’t so down anymore, although thoughts of committing an irretractable mistake still dogged my mind…

And the final paper on the 22th, Elements of the Law of Contract. Another one with a long-winded name. This one wasn’t too bad either- having been done during A-levels, with much of the key elements remaining the same. My answers were short, though, about one page per question. I’ll never understand how others can write 2 to 4 booklets in total. I left about 5 minutes before the final ten minutes when no-one is permitted to leave, stopping for a chat with other early-leavers.

Law. Asian parents seem to have a predilection for sending their offspring towards it (Mine exempted, as I really fell into law, being unable to think of anything else to do). It’s just viewed as this glamorous, money-making occupation. But learning it is a torture. A few years back I remember telling a friends mom that I’d be doing law, and she told me ‘it’s gonna be hard’ (She’s a lawyer herself). If I ever see her again I’d like to correct her: Law isn’t hard at all. In fact, it’s frighteningly easy once you see the pattern. But it’s horribly boring, so boring that if you ever allow the boredom to seep through your psyche, it eats you up from the inside like a flesh eating beetle. 

Some entertainment for all the tortured law students- a correlation chart from genzu, featuring some of the lecturers from London. Sadists, all of them. And here’s your proof…

M represents Wayne Morrison, director of the London law program. Met him one too many times.
G represents Adam Gearey, one of the examiners and London lecturers. Never met him before. 
C, bottom right, represents Simon Coldham, Criminal law lecturer. Just once- think Gordon Brown in Blair’s body.
C, center, represents Curtiz Cotterrell, Public Law lecturer. Just once- mentioned in a previous post, I think.
B represents Hilaire Barnett, Public Law textbook author. To this day I have no idea whether it’s a he or she.

Random Ranting 4

April 13, 2009 at 5:42 pm | Posted in Rant | 11 Comments
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Anger is an interesting emotion- it’s definitely not good for one’s health, but in the intense moments of directed passion it ignites, if one focuses his or her rage towards a sheet of blank paper or a computer screen, brilliance often shines through in what is produced. Or, if you’re not so lucky, all you get is an incoherent rant. Which one will this be, I wonder?

In Malaysia there’s this thing called the LAN program- I do believe I’ve mentioned it a few times already, but basically, every student not in a government-owned higher institution is forced to take it. There are three compulsory subjects, namely Moral Studies, History, and the National Language (Bahasa Melayu, for those who didn’t get a credit during the SPM- supposedly the Malaysian equivalent of the O-Levels). All that’s left for me right now is the third subject, the previous two completed when I did my A-Levels.

Problem. The college didn’t allocate a lecturer as there were too few of us. I had been seeing an someone in admin about this and she’d given me the compulsory assignment- which holds 50% towards the final exam- and although attendance didn’t contribute any points, I was told to see her once a week to take it. I did everything she said. Well and good.

What came next was a lecturer. Yes, we finally got one. How wonderful- life would be easier, or so I thought. I gave her the assignment, asked her what she thought, and she said it was ‘alright’ (Boleh tak? Bolehhh…). Hold on to this point while I jump to another. Classes started last week, on a Monday. I complained to her about it, by email and SMS, since I didn’t have class on that day and it would be a real pain to have to go all the way for college for just three hours- and I got no reply until I called her on Monday itself, whereby I was told in no uncertain terms that I had no choice in the matter. Wonderful.

So, on the 13th of April, I went to college. Class was slated to start at 2pm. I arrived at 1.30. I sat in the lobby reading ‘A Beautiful Mind’ until close to 2pm. Since the class wasn’t on the timetable, I went up to the office and asked where it was supposed to be held. Guess what? They had no idea. Well then, can you get hold of her for me? They checked- no clue at all. Right. I went out, found a public phone, and called two of her handphone numbers. No luck. Back to college.  I went and asked the aforementioned admin person, who said that she’s probably out for lunch, as she was there with her a moment ago. Most excellent.

She told me to wait at the fifth floor, where I found a classmate of mine, and plonked myself near her. Sometime around 2.30, she (The lecturer) came. She told me which classroom to go too, and there I went. Surprise, surprise. Once in class she gave us a few assignments. Homework, she said. I asked her if these counted towards the final exam, and she said no. So I don’t have to do them? No, you have to! …OK. But what about that assignment I submitted to you a few weeks ago? Isn’t that one worth 50%? If the exam is 50%, what more is left? Candy? Blueberry pie? Are you so sure you can get 50% from there, she asked. Of course not, I said, but definitely enough to get me through. Well I don’t think you can even get 10% from there, said she. 

A moment of stunned silence, please. Didn’t she say it was ‘alright’ when I first asked her about it? And now she says I can’t even get 10% out of it? She says that she will take the better marks from these new assignments and use that instead. Oh, and since the other students would rather have homework instead of classes, we will probably be getting more of this nonsense. Next week we won’t even be having a class. The week after that, class will be from 3 to 4pm, a notable reduction from the original 2-5pm.

I’ll be having my finals for Law from the 13th of May onwards. I have a research paper to write. I have revision classes to attend. I have to try my very best to study. And here you are happily twisting things and piddling about in circles. You want to do it properly, you say, but just what…

You know what? I’m too tired to bother. I’m too tired to think. I’m too tired to rail against the stupidity of it all. I don’t even remember how I started this post. I remember that I asked a question, but I don’t remember what. That’s it, I’m outa here. Toodles till next.

Cosmetic Culture

February 26, 2009 at 12:21 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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I’ve finally figured out a way around the recent trouble I’ve been having with the internet connection- I use it in the morning, or afternoon. Nighttime is completely out of the question, I think, at least for certain sites that I spend quite a lot of time on. Thankfully wordpress, at least, seems to have recovered.

As you can see, the greenery has all but disappeared- I’ve been so blinded by my love for the extreme greenness of my previous blog theme, that I was completely ignorant of its flaws until someone told me that it was pretty hard on the eyes. I took a look and thought the same.

Anyway, it’s bye-bye, Green, hello Blue. The header isn’t going to change, though. I’m liking the new layout- it’s quite refreshing. Especially after a tiring day out. We had a guest lecturer for Public Law, one Curtiz Cotterrell. Elizabeth found him quite attractive. I suppose he did look like a cross between a young Gordon Freeman and Chris Rock. He arrived late, about half an hour- stuck in a jam made worse by a tree that suddenly decided to lie down in the middle of the road.

He did a lecture focusing mainly on two topics, Rule of Law and Separation of Powers- it was a lot livelier compared to regular lectures, probably because he seemed to be jumping all over the place. I had a horrible headache, so they sorta balanced each other out. I was also famished- Lizbeth cured that with an egg tart she’d bought earlier, from a relatively famous tart shop opposite the Popular bookstore- guess I should visit them more often.

During break I went out for a moment, and got a chunk of skin from my hand ripped off in a freak accident with a washroom door- I don’t really remember how it happened. Got a band-aid from Lizbeth, although it really wasn’t that bad. Still stung when I washed it, though- I haven’t had a serious injury since… since. Click here for a photo of what my hand now looks like. Didn’t want to post the photo here- just in case some squeamish kid reads this blog.

Lizbeth joined me for the train ride home- she got off a few stops before me. Time really passes by quickly when you have someone to talk to- 20 minutes just faded away.

Well, that’s that. Now just how does the title of this post relate to its contents, you ask?
i) The new theme.
ii) Surely a wound counts, right?
iii) And if so, a band-aid counts too^-^
iv) Not to mention Liz liking the lecturer^^;;

It’s past midnight, and I’m off to bed. I realize that all the reasons I’ve given up there are rather daft, but this post itself is rather superficial, so how can I be blamed, eh? Toodles.

Random Ranting 3

January 15, 2009 at 8:51 pm | Posted in Rant | 3 Comments
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One statute that keeps rearing it’s ugly little head in a British law program is the Human Rights Act 1998, which enables the enforcement of ECHR (European Convention on Human Rights) rights in the United Kingdom, and it covers blitheringly obvious subjects like the right to marriage, freedom, a fair trial, etc.

A lecturer once asked us, which do you find more important- “Human rights or national security?” Most of the class answered national security, me included. He was quite disappointed- “Good to know that there’re actually lawyers that are more concerned about national security. But then again that’s natural, right? No one cares about human rights until you’re the one being abused by the police, right?”

Which is quite true. We’re a selfish bunch, alright. Didn’t think much of this incident until about a week ago… the Amnesty International club is organising a ‘lecturer auction’ event for this year’s Student Ball, where the winning bid would get a free lunch or something like that- anyway, they came in to do a little promotion. The explanation included “oh, and only girls are allowed to bid for the male lecturers…”

Ah. Do I sense a wisp of sexual discrimination here? Doesn’t Article *insert random number, I forgot which it is* of the ECHR expressly forbid any form of discrimination? By forbidding the homosexuals from bidding for their desired partner, aren’t they discriminating against homosexuals (never mind if there’s any in the college- I have no idea about that)? Why didn’t the lecturer present say anything about that? Whatever happened to human rights? Oh yes of course- we’re Malaysians, so who really cares about human rights, eh?

I should probably have said all that just to cause some trouble. Then again, they’d probably have shot back with “And are you going to bid? Are you even going to the ball in the first place?”, to which I’d have to reply in the negative. I don’t even have locus standi (grounds to bring a case). It doesn’t really concern me in the first place. It’s not worth arguing over, but it is an interesting topic for a short rant.

Now, on with life- UNICEF is being an idiot in Japan, but that’s material for another rant… one rant per rant post.

The Levin Quarterly: Dedicated to bringing joy to the wretched world you inhabit

November 23, 2008 at 2:23 am | Posted in Thoughts | 2 Comments
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A brief summary of everything that’s happened since I joined ATC in August. It is now… November, by the way. Never too late, eh? Well, how to start… a charming little quote would be nice. So let’s not waste any more time:

“I didn’t choose to do law- I fell into it”

Intelligent readers will note that I am quoting myself. Don’t worry, I haven’t gotten around to talking in the third person- at least not yet. Back to business.

About the PTPTN loan- turned out that I was eligible to apply. Everything had been done beforehand- went to BSN to pay for a pin, Muamalat (never thought I’d step foot in there), a fight over at the British Council where my dad, being irritated at having to go out for a second (2.5th, actually) time because of silly working hours on their part, blew his top when he found out that I’d had them certify copies of my SPM cert. I chose to play safe- stayed outside and enjoyed the smoke.

After a few weeks, or maybe just over a month, I logged into the PTPTN website and was greeted by a few sentences announcing the approval of my loan- wait, the approval of my application for a loan. This is what you get for dealing with the government. Blablabla, long story short, I read it during the weekend, decided that I’d get more info on Monday.

Monday, went to see the person in charge after class (approx. 5.20PM). Knocked on the door and was told she’d gone home. No classes for the following days. Thursday, or Friday, I finally met her and was told that the following Monday was the deadline. Oi. Went home, printed the documents, read it, realised that I’d need witnesses for the guarantors, and something called a setem hasil. That was the last straw. Dad said to just give it up.

Next: my first courtroom experience. Well, a moot court, actually. I’ll never understand why they call it ‘moot’, when the word basically means ‘pointless’. So the whole trial is pointless? Then why have it in the first place? The answer probably lies in the Old English definition of the word:

From Old English *mōt, gemōt (meeting)

Blasted lawyers, judges, legislators and everyone who had a hand with crafting the English legal jargon. Here’s an example: a property can actually be called ‘deceased’. Don’t ask, because I don’t intend to find out. English is a language confused enough as it is, and they just made it worse, selfishly crafting a niche spot in the world which no one can enter without training (and paying for it). Never mind. The moot court- held in place of our usual Criminal law lecture. We were told to behave as if we were in a real courtroom. Wonderful. One of those meant that if we wanted to step outside, we’d first have to bow to the judge. Guy beside me gave a full bow, which was pretty frightening. I gave a little nod and strolled out- to hell with protocol. If they’d asked, I’d just say that I have a stiff neck. They didn’t.


Editor’s note: “unrelated to content, but these two are the subjects of discussion”

I had a dream- of me sitting in some tram-like vehicle with Elizabeth’s beloved and one girl. He was in the middle, separating me from her, which irritated me to no end. To make matters worse, I’m pretty sure the two of them were an item. I wanted her. Now here’s the hot issue (for Lizbeth, at least): the girl wasn’t her.

Moi: I had a dream…… I liked that girl, but she was with uncle…
Lizbeth: No!
Moi: Relax. It wasn’t you. Wait, that sorta makes things worse, doesn’t it?
Lizbeth: You sure it wasn’t me?
Moi: Definite. She was taller than you.
Lizbeth: Oi!

Not verbatim, but that’s pretty much how our chat went. She got flustered- said that she’d had a dream of her beloved flirting with some other girl or something along those lines, and that recently she’d had some suspicions… or was it he who dreamed that Lizbeth went out with some other guy? Ah well. Everything seems fine between them to me- they’ve already fallen into the ‘married couple’ pattern, fighting over tiny things and getting back together like nothing ever happened. Silly household troubles, but I listen to them anyway while she cries (no tears, mind you- hamster doesn’t leak that easily) and whacks my arms. It seems to have a miraculously calming effect on her. I’ll just attribute it to my wonderful self, as usual.

So far I have pontenged class twice. Not bad, huh? During Form 4 and 5 I achieved perfect attendance, although the latter wasn’t officially acknowledged, and despite the fact that I was late almost every day. Right. The first blotch on my record this time round was caused by the a visit from Jacqueline- skipped a 90 minute lecture on Judicial Precedent along with Lizbeth and wasted time discussing various insane/interesting events that have happened to her since we last met. The second time was an extra class on Saturday, 2pm (I found out about it on Friday- no announcements made either). Grudgingly decided to go, but changed my mind the next day while playing Castlevania: Order of Ecclesia sometime around 1pm=.=”

The girl who induced me to skip class.

The girl who induced me to skip class.

Now how about college life in general? The commute alone sucks the life out of me, and it’s usually all I can do to stay lucid. It really helps during break if I have a a copy of the Sun to keep me awake- and oi, just in case, I’m not talking about that tabloid with page 3 skin. As for PR, it’s pretty much the same as back in BAC.  Too lazy to turn my head and talk to people behind me, but I do oblige requests. Nicer to people sitting in the same row as me, as usual, but I don’t have the energy to maintain relationships any more. So I’m probably not going to be able to strike up any serious relationships unless someone moves on me and keeps up the pace. Whatever happened to that oblivious force of nature I used to be in my school days? Damn the commute.

For tutorials, we’ve been split into two groups- I consider myself pretty fortunate to be in the same group as this guy called guy with an accent called Gobind (not too sure of the spelling) and Elizabeth’s stalker. The latter is good entertainment, although I do believe that most of the lecturers find him rather exasperating at times. Most of what he says is negligible, but there are the rare drops of uncalled for wisdom. Yes- I know I sound rather mean. Truth is, I’m trying to regain my former meanness:) The former has quite a lot in his head, and would seem to be guaranteed to ace the course if it were one on general knowledge relating to the UK. Like, I know who Margaret Thatcher is, but why the hell would I bother with who the Home Secretary was at the time? Oh well- we all have our specialties anyway… you’re currently reading the words of an someone who delights in pointless information. The problem with me is that I tend to throw it all out once I get tired of it, which really isn’t very helpful.

Hmm… OK, time to round this up. Your eyes must be sore from reading all these tiny words, so I’ve prepared (well, stole, actually) something for you guys (and girls too, if you like) to feast on:

I confess to Mun Yee theft.

Yea, I confess to Mun Yee theft.

Stole this photo from here. Don’t think you mind, right? If you do just hit me when we meet up. As mentioned a few miles above, it seems to have a calming effect…

I first met her in my Japanese class in Sunway. We were together for a few levels, but didn’t talk to each other much (my eyes were elsewhere at the time, sorry). Barely, actually. Yes, yes, I know what you’re probably thinking right now. “Pretty girl in front of you and you completely ignore her=.=” She quit the centre before some one, two levels before I myself left the place, I think. I don’t really remember how I rediscovered her… was probably through her old blog, while googling my ex-Jap teacher. Anyway, I just found out that she’s studying in a college close to mine. Thought of meeting up with her, but she’s rather busy right now, so that’ll have to wait.

There you have it- a 1514 word summary of the months of August till late November, although I’ve most likely left out quite a lot. If you want to know more you’ll have to stalk me and record my every movement. Although it’s pretty certain that I’d spot you and sic the traffic cops on you before you get anything on me.

So long then, and farewell- sleep beckons (=ω=)

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