Salting the wound

It is quite common to hear stories about men, who, after divorcing their wives (and marrying another), skedaddles without paying the ex-wife child support. This is worse if the ex-wife hasn't got the means to support the family; either through lack of education or disability. These men are scums of the earth what ought to have their names printed in the newspapers in font 100 (at least) declaring their irresponsibility (apart from the tarring and feathering and proper enforcement of court-ordered paycheque deduction).

But what about men who have been faithfully supporting the wife and child and then discovering said child is not his? What if after the divorce, the ex-wife marries the man who is the biological father of the child and still HE has to pay for child support of a child who carries none of his DNA strands?

Would love trumps the biological imperative for continuing one's genetic inheritance? In the case of Mike L., this appears to be so; proving that not all men who left their wives are scums and that women's cheating have a long and just as terrible a consequence as when a man cheats.

DNA testing: opening Pandora's box in more ways than one.

:p

Lifelong learning

Cos you never know when the fireball juggling / lion taming / Photoshop skills may come in handy.


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Looking for a mate ...

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DO NOT WANT!

Put a Ring on It

I'm not a fan of Beyonce, but John Barrowman makes for excellent eye candy.



This goes a long way towards erasing the Joe Jonas version. *shudder*

Quote of the Day: Apollymi

"....ahhh the beauty of annihilation. There's nothing like it."


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Cleanliness is next to Godliness

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So remember to wash your hands often!

What to do ... what to do ...

Huh. When this happens in your class, what do you, in your capacity as an educator, do?


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A) Take the microphone and yell, "Wakey, wakey!"
B) Set off firecrackers.
C) Walk out in an indignant huff.
D) Leave quietly for your own well-deserved siesta.

The winner writes history...

The Inglourious Basterds made a very good case for alternative history and underscores how serendipity could be the making or breaking of an event. It was interesting to watch a Hollywood movie with mostly European cast and largely in French or German. Being a Quentin Tarantino movie, it is only fair to expect comical violence, although not to the level of Kill Bill.

A fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Biar mati anak, jangan mati adat?

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I'm pretty sure there are better ways to get an adrenaline rush.

Wax and Dye

In May, I had the privilege of perusing an exhibition showcasing the best of Teng's work at the National Art Gallery. Datuk Chuah Thean Teng was a batik painter, a technique adapted from the Nusantara artform of applying wax blocking and vegetable dye to print fabrics. He was a superb craftsman who mastered a varity of media; from wood block prints, ink on paper, metalwork, pastel and poster colour.

His portraits of lush and voluptuous female figures, tinted in rich colours brought to mind the raw sensuality of Gauguin. The delicacy of his brush strokes and the dreamy feel of his landscape brings to mind Henri Matisse. his bold and fantastical abstracts earned him the apellate of the Picasso of batik. He documented life in the village; heavily featuring female figures from bare-breasted aborigine women to the modest and retiring tudung clad Malay girls. His paintings narrated of a lifestyle that is no more, articulating the linkage between nurturing family, land and humanity.

Just to share some of my illicit snapshots and thoughts. My last visit has shown that the NAG is more stringent about photography in the galleries; signages and guards abound.


Observe the little girl in this painting; her scowling demeanour and heavy lips lending her a rather sinister cast. The long suffering patience of the mother. Except for the hair, it could have been my mother and I when I was a bratty child (still am, sadly).


The perspective of this picture is both unexpected and charming, no? The shadows contrasting with the bright colours of her sarong and the manically cheery sky ... I don't know what it is but I like it. The sultry air is almost visceral.


This is the mural he made for the Faculty of Agriculture of University of Malaya in 1960.

R.I.P. Teng. You will be missed.