Sometimes now I feel that my vocabulary has become boring and limited, my expressions drawn from the same uninspired pool of canned phrases, my writing increasingly matter-of-fact and certainly less varied. That's what happens when your reading diet consists of too much non-fiction and (in particular military) journals, or when you cease to write anything that remotely requires creative description. Perhaps this insidious transformation of my writing style was effected by GP, perhaps it comes courtesy of the army. Perhaps it's the cessation of my formal education in English and Literature at the conclusion of my secondary school days. Either way, I'd like to return to the days when language was for me an artist's brush, not a worker's tool; when I could project the larger-than-life world of colourful imagery in my head to ink on paper without losing or even subconsciously stripping away the glorious details.

We started at KAP and walked down Bukit Timah Road. Along the way, we passed through a tunnel that was set up to provide a temporary passageway for pedestrians due to nearby construction. We entered the tunnel in 2009; we exited the tunnel in 2010.

We went down Bukit Timah, passing by school, Coro and Serene Centre. We walked through Botanic Gardens and down Orchard Road to the Esplanade, walking all the way down to the Flyer before looping back and cutting across the bridge to the Marina South area, finishing at the Marina Barrage at 0530. The total was only something like 18km but because the end part went around a lot of boring construction sites it seemed endless. We caught sunrise over the Marina Barrage, but the cranes at the port kind of spoiled the view. We get a nice illumination of the enclosed Marina Bay and the city though.

My resolutions for 2010 are:
1. To work well with my men and do my job well
2. To not neglect my relationships with God, family and friends
3. To keep learning and finding meaning in what I do

Simple and straightforward, I'm not going to make them unnecessarily complicated. Happy new year!

Surreally and ecstatically, the day we've been waiting for.

It feels so weird to not be a cadet any more.

It might be about time I revisited this old entry. For a little recap, Israeli used massive air strikes in response to the breakdown of a ceasefire and incoming Palestianian rocket fire, killing a large number of the Hamas leadership in addition to large swathes of civilians.

The verdict is out on that one: the UN human rights council has endorsed a report accusing Israel and Hamas of war crimes in that same conflict. But that goes without saying, shouldn't it; firing on civilians (either way) is a surefire way to give you PR and HR problems.

But having spent a good 10 months now with the military, the Israeli response does seem like a more sensible option. While it might not solve any problems, it is important to send the message that nobody can hit at us and get away with it. Even though it might be an unnecessary waste of life, as a foreign policy it does drive home the point that striking at our own citizens will not be tolerated. That's the reason why these strikes are popular with Israelis: they feel the need to be protected, even if only by crushing retaliatory firepower instead of any kind of real missile shield, rather than being left by the government to suffer daily barrages of rockets from incontinent militants across the border. It also means that Hamas will eventually have to deal with discontent from Palestinian citizens who are tired of being bombed because of things their local heroes pulled off.

MID CHOI BENG YEN BENJAMIN c/o RSS ENDEAVOUR
MSTD 2/09 Midshipman Wing
OCS AFPN 1455 500
Upper Jurong Road #01-05
Singapore 638364

Hopefully this works. Anyway do drop me SMS now and then, I might be able to read them when I get to port. Emails, though, I am quite unlikely to be able to read until I get back.

I ran 10km in Macritchie today. It's the first time I have done so since last year, and I have hardly run anything above 5km since before the half marathon last year, so I'm surprised that I was still able to enjoy it without being breathless. My ankles ache, I need to get more used to trail running again. Running in combat boots might be a temporary solution to ease my ankles but it will look stupid and probably hurt my knees more in the medium-long term.

Someday I hope to do 2 rounds in Macritchie (around 21km, a half-marathon's worth on the trail). The Macritchie Double sounds like a catchy name for such a feat, it makes it sound like a burger. McSpicy Double, McRitchie Double. Mmmm, tasty.

I'm quite happy with my results. Thanks everyone who helped me with my econs, all the way up to the last hour on the day itself!

Finally I have decided to lock down everything (well, almost) in this journal to friends-only, in view of me joining the army soon, prospective employers googling to find my stuff, the rise of global terrorism and other unwelcome visitors. If you're Shuyuan or somebody I know without an LJ account, please create one. Comment here if you want me to add you as a friend on LJ!

Sometimes, when I have a quiet moment alone in the bus stop or on the bus, I think about how small our little island is. How despite the technology that lets us read about and even see in full colour glory all the news out there, we absorb and digest information in compact soundbites or textbites and file it away neatly in some corner of our brain. And how we then go on living our tidy little lives on this tidy little island.

So in the past few days while I've eaten and slept and gone to church and shopping and Siheng's house, perhaps 300 people died in the Gaza Strip. All this I know because of a neat little news article that appears printed in a paper, furnished with clipped photographs and headlines.

And so, from my comfortable armchair, I begin to make and offer judgements. Personally, really, I think it's a mess, and that Israel really shouldn't be making these massive airstrikes, even if most of the casualties are indeed hardened Hamas militants. Israel's goal is, apparently at least, to stop the rocket attacks on their citizens. This may indeed be achieved temporarily, but it won't deter fanatical Palestinian militants hungry for martyrdom forever. They'll call a truce, mourn and bury their dead, build more rockets, and start all over again. Killing a bunch of militants will just attract more to join their cause, and the belligerents' children and grandchildren will probably be blasting away at each other forever. Maybe. Likewise, for most of us, Hamas' unwillingness to unilaterally stop firing at Israeli towns seems irrational, given the enormous and disproportionate costs it inflicts on their people.

But all this speculative talk has probably been offered millions of times over by various armchair critics around the world, so this is nothing new. Sometimes I try to imagine it from the perspective of those involved instead. From the POV of a frustrated Israeli general who's tried negotiation and everything else but failed because of Hamas' stubborn refusal to acknowledge Israel's right to exist. From the POV of a politician of a country who has been fighting for her life since her inception, who cannot afford to let his nation be seen as weak or a pushover by hostile militants and external powers. From the POV of a Palestinian who has lost his family in a shower of bombs, and sees Israel as a bully who must not be submitted to.

And the answer is really that there are no answers, not that we can offer anyway. None of us are qualified, or even have enough information about the situation (as in ground experience, not neat textual summaries) to make any kind of judgement or condemnation on either side. And if we did have the first-hand experience, if we lived and breathed the life that goes on halfway around the globe, if we stepped out of our naivete, I'm not sure it would be for the better. It's a strange and troubling world we live in.

Perhaps, if our main goal in life is to be happy (which is frankly a perfectly reasonable goal), it's best after all to live and die in our own sheltered little bubble.