*mutter* timetable clash *mutter*
now i need to think the whole outside option thing all over again.
Acting legend Robert Redford dies aged 89
55 minutes ago
9/21/2006
sometimes i wonder where the insomnia has gone to. it really is quite useful sometimes!
i'm leaving for london again tomorrow. a year ago on this date i was frolicking in new found freedom in a small carpeted room in bankside. a year ago before my flight also i stuck on a little passage about steinbeck and some generalised sadness about leaving.
i think, simply, what people would say is boohoo i will miss everyone. if you strip away the general feeling that everything seems so ephemeral, that you can't guarantee that everything that was around will be around when you return. the parents will be a year older, so will the sisters, you just wish for everyone's sake it will slow down a little.
slow down? it'd be so boring. imagine living forever.
still, it wouldn't hurt if life is a playstation game that you can play till you're sick of.
and it's also not a simple case of "are you happier in london or in singapore". there are things in london i can get which i can't have in singapore. freedom, my own room, lse, the occasional soccer match or musical and different nightlife options. singapore has food, family, friends and i know where everything is. so it doesn't matter if there are 10,000 pros in london, and 10,000 cons in singapore, it's just the sickening feeling of having to give up something here for a year that makes you want it. and in the end, i could just stay here if i really wanted, and the fact that i don't is maybe the power of reason.
i'm leaving for london again tomorrow. a year ago on this date i was frolicking in new found freedom in a small carpeted room in bankside. a year ago before my flight also i stuck on a little passage about steinbeck and some generalised sadness about leaving.
i think, simply, what people would say is boohoo i will miss everyone. if you strip away the general feeling that everything seems so ephemeral, that you can't guarantee that everything that was around will be around when you return. the parents will be a year older, so will the sisters, you just wish for everyone's sake it will slow down a little.
slow down? it'd be so boring. imagine living forever.
still, it wouldn't hurt if life is a playstation game that you can play till you're sick of.
and it's also not a simple case of "are you happier in london or in singapore". there are things in london i can get which i can't have in singapore. freedom, my own room, lse, the occasional soccer match or musical and different nightlife options. singapore has food, family, friends and i know where everything is. so it doesn't matter if there are 10,000 pros in london, and 10,000 cons in singapore, it's just the sickening feeling of having to give up something here for a year that makes you want it. and in the end, i could just stay here if i really wanted, and the fact that i don't is maybe the power of reason.
sometimes i wonder where the insomnia has gone to. it really is quite useful sometimes!
i'm leaving for london again tomorrow. a year ago on this date i was frolicking in new found freedom in a small carpeted room in bankside. a year ago before my flight also i stuck on a little passage about steinbeck and some generalised sadness about leaving.
i think, simply, what people would say is boohoo i will miss everyone. if you strip away the general feeling that everything seems so ephemeral, that you can't guarantee that everything that was around will be around when you return. the parents will be a year older, so will the sisters, you just wish for everyone's sake it will slow down a little.
slow down? it'd be so boring. imagine living forever.
still, it wouldn't hurt if life is a playstation game that you can play till you're sick of.
and it's also not a simple case of "are you happier in london or in singapore". there are things in london i can get which i can't have in singapore. freedom, my own room, lse, the occasional soccer match or musical and different nightlife options. singapore has food, family, friends and i know where everything is. so it doesn't matter if there are 10,000 pros in london, and 10,000 cons in singapore, it's just the sickening feeling of having to give up something here for a year that makes you want it. and in the end, i could just stay here if i really wanted, and the fact that i don't is maybe the power of reason.
i'm leaving for london again tomorrow. a year ago on this date i was frolicking in new found freedom in a small carpeted room in bankside. a year ago before my flight also i stuck on a little passage about steinbeck and some generalised sadness about leaving.
i think, simply, what people would say is boohoo i will miss everyone. if you strip away the general feeling that everything seems so ephemeral, that you can't guarantee that everything that was around will be around when you return. the parents will be a year older, so will the sisters, you just wish for everyone's sake it will slow down a little.
slow down? it'd be so boring. imagine living forever.
still, it wouldn't hurt if life is a playstation game that you can play till you're sick of.
and it's also not a simple case of "are you happier in london or in singapore". there are things in london i can get which i can't have in singapore. freedom, my own room, lse, the occasional soccer match or musical and different nightlife options. singapore has food, family, friends and i know where everything is. so it doesn't matter if there are 10,000 pros in london, and 10,000 cons in singapore, it's just the sickening feeling of having to give up something here for a year that makes you want it. and in the end, i could just stay here if i really wanted, and the fact that i don't is maybe the power of reason.
9/15/2006
leaving for london all too soon. anyway, i have changed my uk address. here it is in all its delectable glory:
36 Sandwich House, Sandwich Street, WC1H 9PR
but it's not "ah-ha, they named your street after a breakfast item."
it's named after sandwich in kent, one of the cinque ports responsible for the defense of the realm, from which the 4th earl of sandwich created the famous snack.
36 Sandwich House, Sandwich Street, WC1H 9PR
but it's not "ah-ha, they named your street after a breakfast item."
it's named after sandwich in kent, one of the cinque ports responsible for the defense of the realm, from which the 4th earl of sandwich created the famous snack.
8/27/2006
i stepped out of central station in hong kong this morning wondering what village i've been living in all these years. "this must be hong kong", i say to myself, pinching myself ever so often to remind myself that humans do build buildings that tall.
the country bumpkin in me spoke only chinese and english whenever they mistakenly mistake me for a native islander. i tell them i come from singapore. "singapore is a humble place", i say, and i tell them i'm not used to all the neon. "bright lights scare us", i add, also adding that singapore is a very epileptic friendly place.
hong kong, clearly is not. mongkok and tsimshatsui need to come with epilepsy warnings. also, anyone with fear of heights need not apply too, given that a 30 storey building is probably low-rise. blind people though, have it great in this place, not only do they not have to put up with all the light pollution, the traffic lights beep when you're allowed to cross. also, there is always some cantopop tune blasting which you can enjoy. also, beware of falling airconditioning units. (they just looked pretty vulnerable all that way up).
the light show was fucking hilarious i might add. it's this extravaganza (which is fantastic, i might add, i now know why singapore is rushing to build all those casinoes) where skyscrapers start spewing lasers and changing colours and patterns to amuse people. when they introduced hsbc tower, it would then start blinking pink and purple to introduce itself. and i read this about the bank of china building.
With its height of 131 metres this would make an impressive building in a lot of cities,
but not in Hong Kong. On the list of tallest buildings of the city, it ranks somewhere near to #360...
i also spent my annual pay on shopping, which doesn't go far in hong kong.
queer village, this hong kong.
the country bumpkin in me spoke only chinese and english whenever they mistakenly mistake me for a native islander. i tell them i come from singapore. "singapore is a humble place", i say, and i tell them i'm not used to all the neon. "bright lights scare us", i add, also adding that singapore is a very epileptic friendly place.
hong kong, clearly is not. mongkok and tsimshatsui need to come with epilepsy warnings. also, anyone with fear of heights need not apply too, given that a 30 storey building is probably low-rise. blind people though, have it great in this place, not only do they not have to put up with all the light pollution, the traffic lights beep when you're allowed to cross. also, there is always some cantopop tune blasting which you can enjoy. also, beware of falling airconditioning units. (they just looked pretty vulnerable all that way up).
the light show was fucking hilarious i might add. it's this extravaganza (which is fantastic, i might add, i now know why singapore is rushing to build all those casinoes) where skyscrapers start spewing lasers and changing colours and patterns to amuse people. when they introduced hsbc tower, it would then start blinking pink and purple to introduce itself. and i read this about the bank of china building.
With its height of 131 metres this would make an impressive building in a lot of cities,
but not in Hong Kong. On the list of tallest buildings of the city, it ranks somewhere near to #360...
i also spent my annual pay on shopping, which doesn't go far in hong kong.
queer village, this hong kong.
summer school photos!
the cold war. cox vs arne westad, pakistan, central asia and mongolia vs korea, taiwan, s.e. asia and india. no contest. underneath a banner saying "long live the party and the may our ideology stand proud for 10000 years". well no, but typical pompous chinese banner.
look who's paying attention.
class teacher brendan
cox talking cock.
the 201 and 202 classes. observe the banner again.
8/23/2006
8/21/2006
8/04/2006
the economist has in it this week an article on the 'mismeasure of woman.' after lawrence summers dared to suggest that there were not so many women professors in math and science because there were fewer intelligent ones.
what i learnt from it:
female is the default brain setting! testosterone makes the fetus male.
men masturbate much more than women and had more liberal attitudes towards sex in a casual relationship.
men and women, though, reported the same degree of sexual satisfaction (80, 50, 30 anyone? that's got to be conditioning!)
men are more likely to be geniuses and idiots. variance of intelligence is higher.
when participants thought they were being observed by the experimenter, men dropped more bombs to destroy a target in a video game. when the identities were unknown, women dropped more bombs.
they had a related article on "la diff�rence", on how women won the sex war:
let's count the stereotypes:
1. "take map-reading. the female tendency to call for five right turns while holding the map upside down"
2. "men, studies show, are exceedingly good at rotating 3d shapes in ther head. perhaps women once stared open mouth in wonder as their mates juggled pyramids of imaginary polyhedra."
3. "but now that the rich world has about as many tunnels and bridges as it needs, and the large bits of machinery which aren't made by computers and robots are made by the Chinese, their usefulness is limited."
I'm Chinese. does it mean i'm still useful?
4. "modern professional life is dominated by management, which sets high store by emotional intelligence, empathy and communication. wise chaps seeking professional advancement should therefore spend their free time with groups of women, boning up on how to undermine somebody's confidence while pretending to boost it, and how to turn an entire lunch table against an absent colleague without saying a mean word. such skills are likely to have a greater influence on their lifetime earnings than the abilty to spin an icosahedron."
!!!
what i learnt from it:
female is the default brain setting! testosterone makes the fetus male.
men masturbate much more than women and had more liberal attitudes towards sex in a casual relationship.
men and women, though, reported the same degree of sexual satisfaction (80, 50, 30 anyone? that's got to be conditioning!)
men are more likely to be geniuses and idiots. variance of intelligence is higher.
when participants thought they were being observed by the experimenter, men dropped more bombs to destroy a target in a video game. when the identities were unknown, women dropped more bombs.
they had a related article on "la diff�rence", on how women won the sex war:
let's count the stereotypes:
1. "take map-reading. the female tendency to call for five right turns while holding the map upside down"
2. "men, studies show, are exceedingly good at rotating 3d shapes in ther head. perhaps women once stared open mouth in wonder as their mates juggled pyramids of imaginary polyhedra."
3. "but now that the rich world has about as many tunnels and bridges as it needs, and the large bits of machinery which aren't made by computers and robots are made by the Chinese, their usefulness is limited."
I'm Chinese. does it mean i'm still useful?
4. "modern professional life is dominated by management, which sets high store by emotional intelligence, empathy and communication. wise chaps seeking professional advancement should therefore spend their free time with groups of women, boning up on how to undermine somebody's confidence while pretending to boost it, and how to turn an entire lunch table against an absent colleague without saying a mean word. such skills are likely to have a greater influence on their lifetime earnings than the abilty to spin an icosahedron."
!!!
8/03/2006
i am very proud of my blog.
despite its rather default template and absolute lack of photos.
despite its lack of controversy or motivation the change the face of singaporean politics
despite not telling you anything useful about how to cook or which is the best aluminum rim for your car.
despite its rather childish entries dating from 2002.
despite its lack of stories of conquest and sex.
i am proud because i read some of the entries and think, 'damn, what a damn fine blog'.
despite its rather default template and absolute lack of photos.
despite its lack of controversy or motivation the change the face of singaporean politics
despite not telling you anything useful about how to cook or which is the best aluminum rim for your car.
despite its rather childish entries dating from 2002.
despite its lack of stories of conquest and sex.
i am proud because i read some of the entries and think, 'damn, what a damn fine blog'.
8/01/2006
four letter words and other symbols of rebellion.
i remember watching once sinead o'connor perform. well, i didn't remember the circumstances until i was reminded of it tonight, but she had 2 weeks earlier ripped up a picture of the pope saying "fight the real enemy". she was supposed to perform dylan's "i believe in you" but she came on stage to a chorus of boos.
well, look at it yourself, you can find it on youtube, search for "sinead booed"
shaved head, hands behind back in a plain blue dress she then rips into an version of bob marley's "war".
the following is from wikipedia:
On September 22, 1997, O'Connor was interviewed in Vita, an Italian weekly newspaper. In the interview, she asked the Pope to forgive her. She claimed that the tearing of the photo was "a ridiculous act, the gesture of a girl rebel." She claimed she did it "because I was in rebellion against the faith, but I was still within the faith." She went on to quote Saint Augustine, by saying, "Anger is the first step towards courage."
this is a horribly complex post to write.
dylan :
"who booed me last night?"
"did you boo me last night?"
"i want you to find all the people that booed me last night."
i used to try that kind of self-avoidance of shortcomings and i used to infuriate people with out of point answers and arguments. what happened to it.
i have sold out, i think. i'll be honest. to most definitions of "selling out", i have sold out. bravo. i applaud all my free-spirited friends.
i don't know what crazy impulse leads me to think that now. what crazy impulse wants me to be a pubescent again, and not younger in a "life was simpler then" sense, but 14 year old two fingers to your teacher, how uncool all the other earnest, eager little kids were. no matter how stupid it looked, i miss the conviction that i was cooler than everyone else. yes, i want to be the hottest thing since sliced bread. =p everyone else is from camatotz, as far as i'm concerned. i think i idolised myself. i saw my idols in me. even atticus fucking finch. don't matter that you don't see nothing.
i was so cool i didn't need to say much. in fact, i want conversation with me to sound like strawberry fields forever again. i don't want to know how your day was. fuck off. but i hate confrontation of course, dad knows best. dad always thought i was the "quiet rebel"
and then growing older is about learning new things. but then you convince yourself that there are limits. and people come along and tell you not to sulk so much. you convince yourself that happiness is attainable. and it very well turns out that it is. you work hard, you get good results, generally. smile more, and you make friends. "the love you take is equal to the love you make". so you try to be a more wholesome, well-rounded person. girls like wholesome, well rounded boys who are sweet and caring. well, anything to get a wholesome girl.
but i find myself wondering what kind of life i would have had i not gone to jc, or not gone to a particular class in that jc. somehow i felt a part of that community which prevented my full don't give a flying fuck self from taking hold. nobody allowed me to brood in the corner as i would have liked and even on my off days someone would always tell me to snap out of it. plus, life become more of a responsibility have to get things done kind of life as we all strived to prove what fantastic interpersonal/managerial/leadership skills we had. it's quite easy to turn on really. i think i would have drifted aimlessly (until a need for change took hold and then we're back where we start today)
maybe i just don't do interpersonal. make me.
don't get me wrong. i think i'm happier. but i've sold out. my blog reads like a fucking carousel now. which is a shame really. it was the blog or me.
i feel like being a petulant spoilt brat now.
this can be sung to a tune to your head. it's quite profound anyway, most of the best pop choruses are simple and catchy.
don't know much about middle east
don't care much about no third world peace
all i know is that i love god.
and i can tell you that god loves you too.
when you find only a little piece
of the carcass that was once your niece
tell yourself she's in a better place
"members only" membership by race.
who loves me
who loves me
the whole world's fucking crazy
who loves me
who loves me
you're never gonna find me
they say that love is just a four letter word... i used too many four letter words today.
well, look at it yourself, you can find it on youtube, search for "sinead booed"
shaved head, hands behind back in a plain blue dress she then rips into an version of bob marley's "war".
the following is from wikipedia:
On September 22, 1997, O'Connor was interviewed in Vita, an Italian weekly newspaper. In the interview, she asked the Pope to forgive her. She claimed that the tearing of the photo was "a ridiculous act, the gesture of a girl rebel." She claimed she did it "because I was in rebellion against the faith, but I was still within the faith." She went on to quote Saint Augustine, by saying, "Anger is the first step towards courage."
this is a horribly complex post to write.
dylan :
"who booed me last night?"
"did you boo me last night?"
"i want you to find all the people that booed me last night."
i used to try that kind of self-avoidance of shortcomings and i used to infuriate people with out of point answers and arguments. what happened to it.
i have sold out, i think. i'll be honest. to most definitions of "selling out", i have sold out. bravo. i applaud all my free-spirited friends.
i don't know what crazy impulse leads me to think that now. what crazy impulse wants me to be a pubescent again, and not younger in a "life was simpler then" sense, but 14 year old two fingers to your teacher, how uncool all the other earnest, eager little kids were. no matter how stupid it looked, i miss the conviction that i was cooler than everyone else. yes, i want to be the hottest thing since sliced bread. =p everyone else is from camatotz, as far as i'm concerned. i think i idolised myself. i saw my idols in me. even atticus fucking finch. don't matter that you don't see nothing.
i was so cool i didn't need to say much. in fact, i want conversation with me to sound like strawberry fields forever again. i don't want to know how your day was. fuck off. but i hate confrontation of course, dad knows best. dad always thought i was the "quiet rebel"
and then growing older is about learning new things. but then you convince yourself that there are limits. and people come along and tell you not to sulk so much. you convince yourself that happiness is attainable. and it very well turns out that it is. you work hard, you get good results, generally. smile more, and you make friends. "the love you take is equal to the love you make". so you try to be a more wholesome, well-rounded person. girls like wholesome, well rounded boys who are sweet and caring. well, anything to get a wholesome girl.
but i find myself wondering what kind of life i would have had i not gone to jc, or not gone to a particular class in that jc. somehow i felt a part of that community which prevented my full don't give a flying fuck self from taking hold. nobody allowed me to brood in the corner as i would have liked and even on my off days someone would always tell me to snap out of it. plus, life become more of a responsibility have to get things done kind of life as we all strived to prove what fantastic interpersonal/managerial/leadership skills we had. it's quite easy to turn on really. i think i would have drifted aimlessly (until a need for change took hold and then we're back where we start today)
maybe i just don't do interpersonal. make me.
don't get me wrong. i think i'm happier. but i've sold out. my blog reads like a fucking carousel now. which is a shame really. it was the blog or me.
i feel like being a petulant spoilt brat now.
this can be sung to a tune to your head. it's quite profound anyway, most of the best pop choruses are simple and catchy.
don't know much about middle east
don't care much about no third world peace
all i know is that i love god.
and i can tell you that god loves you too.
when you find only a little piece
of the carcass that was once your niece
tell yourself she's in a better place
"members only" membership by race.
who loves me
who loves me
the whole world's fucking crazy
who loves me
who loves me
you're never gonna find me
they say that love is just a four letter word... i used too many four letter words today.
7/30/2006
One of the more romantic reasons why intelligent/talented people get so depressed maybe consists of them asking questions like "Why is there so much sadness in the world", which presents itself like a sword of Damocles as an intractable problem to be solved, cured or debated away.
until perhaps you realize that depression is in no way correlated to intelligence or talent, simply that they had a more eloquent way of putting it across other than "sian", which is why they make such appealing case studies.
take, for example, nirvana's "all apologies"
until perhaps you realize that depression is in no way correlated to intelligence or talent, simply that they had a more eloquent way of putting it across other than "sian", which is why they make such appealing case studies.
take, for example, nirvana's "all apologies"
7/27/2006
do you remember annette benning in american beauty? playing carolyn burnham. kick-ass real estate agent extroadinaire.
i am considering how wise it is to be rhapsodic about the state of the property market now given that a. i've yet to find a house and b. i'm really pretty inexperienced. but forgive me, considering i've spent quite some time on it, and i've managed to go around exploring islington, hackney, london bridge, lambeth, bermondsey etc.
you can tell because i've learnt how to judge real estate agents by how much of an asshole they are. take today for example. i was driven around by a nice blue-eyed boy (really!) with blonde hair. fumbled with the keys, didn't know where any of the addresses was, but really polite. puts on his seat belt. wore his suit out in the summer heat. now, i've been looking for houses myself. and unfortunately that has turned me into a bit of an arsehole too. i just kept thinking "this boy won't survive long in this business" and the clincher came when he couldn't park his mini. a fucking mini. and he was really really nice but i just didn't feel compelled to like or make any decisions. i enjoyed talking to him, and learnt that he'd been in the business for 2 and a half months. already he was starting to hate the 12 hour days and disgruntled house seeking assholes. which is why the theory that investment bankers are paid more because they work longer hours is of course economic fallacy 101. these people eat sandwiches between clients but i can't blame them after all time really is fucking money to them.
compare this with typical hard-bitten real estate agent. absolutely hates the job, but does it cause he pays the bills. one which i spoke to lost his previous job but is earning tons more now. he will typically go from saccharine enthusiasm to acerbic sarcasm as the session goes along. "this is what they call an easy let mate." "oh... i'd like to see you get better for 250." "do what you want mate, it's cool man, not a problem, i'm telling you that tons of people will be on this flat, maybe you don't understand cause you haven't had a house you really like taken away from you." go on, work the fear. that's what it takes to sell houses. that you won't get one because there are 30,000 other students looking and you'll end up sleeping on the streets. work it deep man, twist the knife, and maybe i'll give in. and then they call you the next day asking if you still want the "easy let." then the bitch in me awakens and say "no thanks, and i hope you sell the flat quickly." but they've worked their way up the food chain, and are used to taking pain. i'm innocent newbie look for flat for the first time meat to be devoured, and they probably test their crap unsaleable flats out on me. "like it?" it seems like the wonderful flats you see online are "all taken" by the time you call, so don't be mislead by them. yes, advertised �230 at clerkenwell, but then they tell you you'd be a fool to try for �230 at clerkenwell when you start looking.
to the economist, the rental market is rather asymmetric. the agent has most of the information about the other variables, he is the one that can draw up the demand schedule, and the supply, and the landlord and tenant are left grasping air. one more disadvantage of the tenant is the "lemons" problem, see "the market for lemons" by akerlof, to understand the implications of asymmetric information on the markets.
i do feel that as a tenant though, you can get a good deal. many flats are crap, or are fantastically furnished, but because they violate the rule of "location, location, location", their valuation gets massacred. these flats are a steal, if you're flexible. you hold all the cards, you get to bargain till the landlord starts crying and goes "take it, before nobody does!" to stay in covent garden, bloomsbury, you are paying for agglomeration externalities. you may not even need them, depending on how you view a house at. to be honest, a nice suburby area like islington is fantastic if you ask me, lots of groceries around.
yeah. so there i was. i wondered if it was right to be aspire to be an asshole, to walk around most days with my cock hanging out. like yeah man, i'm a fucking Adult, nobody fucks with me. it can get to your head, especially when you're thinking everyone's out to screw you. add that to a bit of conventional economics (don't give to beggars, it distorts their incentive to earn) and you've graduated with BSc. dickhead, all ready to swing (literally) into the adult world. and the marxist that was once in you died a horrible death. take all those che guevara shirts and paste fcuk over them.
the way i've written it though, is unfair. most people simply don't want to end up on the short end of the stick, and the motives of capitalism are in fact noble. i just felt like that esp when i was at sainsbury's and they were scanning my groceries. i always give my weakest smile to checkout girls, and i'm always reminded of "fast car" by Tracy Chapman (bless her bleeding heart). I always think they're dreaming, would rather be colouring in vowels, or running of with a guy to some tropical island when they've saved enough. well this girl smiles back. good she's human. so i strengthen my smile. oh made someone's day didn't you, don't it make you feel better. it takes you a bit sometimes to remember that they are human. for example, the foxton's receptionist had a lovebite. someone had an enjoyable night last night i imagine. probably explains why she was the happiest person i met today. scanning groceries is the fucking most mind-numbing thing ever. well, so is screwing in the 105th screw of the right front wheel in ford's production line. so why should i EVER be entitled to a job that i like. fuck just pay me to clock in 12 hours and i'll FUCK OFF and do something i really like. i don't see why people should expect more, and most of the time they don't. some people do, and the key to making it is not to accept that you have to do this shit and run a business or a larger organization where at least things aren't that mundane. people have the opportunity to progress, no one is keeping you as a checkout girl. i can't help thinking though that things aren't that simple. maybe with new technology checkout girls won't be necessary. and that's good (one less boring job in the world). but yet again it's bad (one less job in the world). economically it's good (at least you're not unproductively using labour). i like small convenience stores for example, but something tells me (maybe it's economic intuition) that life would be better and cheaper if everything was sold in tescos and sainsbury's but i just don't want that to happen, but i think someday it will, and nobody will mind.
i think it was just a particularly hot day where i was a bit pissed off. especially when you can't reconcile lalaland to reality. just one of those days where i think i don't have a god given right to be where i am, nor to get a flat for less than 250 quid. a humbler day.
in a world where logic works... i can go back now and use ito's lemma...
i am considering how wise it is to be rhapsodic about the state of the property market now given that a. i've yet to find a house and b. i'm really pretty inexperienced. but forgive me, considering i've spent quite some time on it, and i've managed to go around exploring islington, hackney, london bridge, lambeth, bermondsey etc.
you can tell because i've learnt how to judge real estate agents by how much of an asshole they are. take today for example. i was driven around by a nice blue-eyed boy (really!) with blonde hair. fumbled with the keys, didn't know where any of the addresses was, but really polite. puts on his seat belt. wore his suit out in the summer heat. now, i've been looking for houses myself. and unfortunately that has turned me into a bit of an arsehole too. i just kept thinking "this boy won't survive long in this business" and the clincher came when he couldn't park his mini. a fucking mini. and he was really really nice but i just didn't feel compelled to like or make any decisions. i enjoyed talking to him, and learnt that he'd been in the business for 2 and a half months. already he was starting to hate the 12 hour days and disgruntled house seeking assholes. which is why the theory that investment bankers are paid more because they work longer hours is of course economic fallacy 101. these people eat sandwiches between clients but i can't blame them after all time really is fucking money to them.
compare this with typical hard-bitten real estate agent. absolutely hates the job, but does it cause he pays the bills. one which i spoke to lost his previous job but is earning tons more now. he will typically go from saccharine enthusiasm to acerbic sarcasm as the session goes along. "this is what they call an easy let mate." "oh... i'd like to see you get better for 250." "do what you want mate, it's cool man, not a problem, i'm telling you that tons of people will be on this flat, maybe you don't understand cause you haven't had a house you really like taken away from you." go on, work the fear. that's what it takes to sell houses. that you won't get one because there are 30,000 other students looking and you'll end up sleeping on the streets. work it deep man, twist the knife, and maybe i'll give in. and then they call you the next day asking if you still want the "easy let." then the bitch in me awakens and say "no thanks, and i hope you sell the flat quickly." but they've worked their way up the food chain, and are used to taking pain. i'm innocent newbie look for flat for the first time meat to be devoured, and they probably test their crap unsaleable flats out on me. "like it?" it seems like the wonderful flats you see online are "all taken" by the time you call, so don't be mislead by them. yes, advertised �230 at clerkenwell, but then they tell you you'd be a fool to try for �230 at clerkenwell when you start looking.
to the economist, the rental market is rather asymmetric. the agent has most of the information about the other variables, he is the one that can draw up the demand schedule, and the supply, and the landlord and tenant are left grasping air. one more disadvantage of the tenant is the "lemons" problem, see "the market for lemons" by akerlof, to understand the implications of asymmetric information on the markets.
i do feel that as a tenant though, you can get a good deal. many flats are crap, or are fantastically furnished, but because they violate the rule of "location, location, location", their valuation gets massacred. these flats are a steal, if you're flexible. you hold all the cards, you get to bargain till the landlord starts crying and goes "take it, before nobody does!" to stay in covent garden, bloomsbury, you are paying for agglomeration externalities. you may not even need them, depending on how you view a house at. to be honest, a nice suburby area like islington is fantastic if you ask me, lots of groceries around.
yeah. so there i was. i wondered if it was right to be aspire to be an asshole, to walk around most days with my cock hanging out. like yeah man, i'm a fucking Adult, nobody fucks with me. it can get to your head, especially when you're thinking everyone's out to screw you. add that to a bit of conventional economics (don't give to beggars, it distorts their incentive to earn) and you've graduated with BSc. dickhead, all ready to swing (literally) into the adult world. and the marxist that was once in you died a horrible death. take all those che guevara shirts and paste fcuk over them.
the way i've written it though, is unfair. most people simply don't want to end up on the short end of the stick, and the motives of capitalism are in fact noble. i just felt like that esp when i was at sainsbury's and they were scanning my groceries. i always give my weakest smile to checkout girls, and i'm always reminded of "fast car" by Tracy Chapman (bless her bleeding heart). I always think they're dreaming, would rather be colouring in vowels, or running of with a guy to some tropical island when they've saved enough. well this girl smiles back. good she's human. so i strengthen my smile. oh made someone's day didn't you, don't it make you feel better. it takes you a bit sometimes to remember that they are human. for example, the foxton's receptionist had a lovebite. someone had an enjoyable night last night i imagine. probably explains why she was the happiest person i met today. scanning groceries is the fucking most mind-numbing thing ever. well, so is screwing in the 105th screw of the right front wheel in ford's production line. so why should i EVER be entitled to a job that i like. fuck just pay me to clock in 12 hours and i'll FUCK OFF and do something i really like. i don't see why people should expect more, and most of the time they don't. some people do, and the key to making it is not to accept that you have to do this shit and run a business or a larger organization where at least things aren't that mundane. people have the opportunity to progress, no one is keeping you as a checkout girl. i can't help thinking though that things aren't that simple. maybe with new technology checkout girls won't be necessary. and that's good (one less boring job in the world). but yet again it's bad (one less job in the world). economically it's good (at least you're not unproductively using labour). i like small convenience stores for example, but something tells me (maybe it's economic intuition) that life would be better and cheaper if everything was sold in tescos and sainsbury's but i just don't want that to happen, but i think someday it will, and nobody will mind.
i think it was just a particularly hot day where i was a bit pissed off. especially when you can't reconcile lalaland to reality. just one of those days where i think i don't have a god given right to be where i am, nor to get a flat for less than 250 quid. a humbler day.
in a world where logic works... i can go back now and use ito's lemma...
7/26/2006
for my betting friends
hi there. world cup season's over, so maybe all of you are taking a break from bookie busting.
with knowledge of probability and the strong law of large numbers, i personally don't find it that attractive to gamble anymore. however, this is not to say there is no money to be made in the short run! after all, gamblers are risk lovers, and the utility you get from winning is much higher than that which you have prepared to lose.
and i was preparing to sleep thinking of what i'd learnt over the past few weeks so i've decided to write a few pointers for my brothers out there. it's still pretty sketchy and i will flesh it out over the coming weeks.
lesson 1: risk neutral probabilities.
Let's assume that a bookie doesn't set arbitrary prices. He looks at the total volume of bets coming in and then he prices accordingly, i.e., prices are set by demand for a certain bet on the market.
This means that the market has already priced implicitly it's expected probabilities that each state will occur. let us take the simplest case, asian handicap, where there are two states in the future: eat ball win, or give ball win. we will consider half ball first, and we will take actual probabilities. data is taken from ladbrokes.com
Example: Arsenal (-1.5) 1.94 vs Aston Villa(+1.5) 1.9
let's play around with the numbers.
with probability p, arsenal clears, with probability (1-p), aston villa clears.
sum of probabilities has to = 1. let's see if we can figure out the bookie's spread.
ok. in a fair bet, we should have the following two equations.
1.94p = 1
1.90(1-p) = 1, where 1 is the initial outlay of the bettor.
solving, we get p = 0.515, (1-p) = 0.4736. p+1-p not equal to 1.
what should be the fair price to play the game? clearly one in which the risk-neutral probabilities (implicit in prices quoted) sum to 1, as in real life. call this price x.
1.94p =x, 1.9(1-p) = x => x/1.94 + x/1.9 = 1
solving, x = 0.959. you are charged �1 for a 95.9 pence game. bookie's spread = 4.28%
let's try another game, man utd (-1.5) 1.92 vs fulham (+1.5) 1.92
this is simpler, 2x/1.92 = 1. x= 0.96, charged �1 for a 96 pence game, spread = 4.167..%
lastly, chelsea (-1.5) 1.88 and man city (+1.5) 1.96
x/1.88 + x/1.96 = 1, x= 95.9 pence. bookie's spread = 4.28% Again! for a different set of prices.
let's try two conjectures:
the closer the prices quoted (by the market), the less premium a bookie has to quote.
this is because demand for both sides is likely to be more symmetric, thus the likelihood of an extreme payoff in one direction is less.
conversely, the more asymmetric the prices, the higher the spread, to compensate for risk.
therefore, a three-state game should have a higher spread as it should have higher variation.
we are also assuming that interest rate earned(foregone) by the bookie(bettor), is negligible, but this is hard to estimate unless i work inside the betting company. after all, you leave money in your account which accrues interest which lowers your payoff and increases theirs. but assuming it's a really short period of time it's negligible.
ok. i need more data, and maybe i will work on the ones with more states. until next time, remember, you lose 4.xx% of your bet on average! gamble wisely!
with knowledge of probability and the strong law of large numbers, i personally don't find it that attractive to gamble anymore. however, this is not to say there is no money to be made in the short run! after all, gamblers are risk lovers, and the utility you get from winning is much higher than that which you have prepared to lose.
and i was preparing to sleep thinking of what i'd learnt over the past few weeks so i've decided to write a few pointers for my brothers out there. it's still pretty sketchy and i will flesh it out over the coming weeks.
lesson 1: risk neutral probabilities.
Let's assume that a bookie doesn't set arbitrary prices. He looks at the total volume of bets coming in and then he prices accordingly, i.e., prices are set by demand for a certain bet on the market.
This means that the market has already priced implicitly it's expected probabilities that each state will occur. let us take the simplest case, asian handicap, where there are two states in the future: eat ball win, or give ball win. we will consider half ball first, and we will take actual probabilities. data is taken from ladbrokes.com
Example: Arsenal (-1.5) 1.94 vs Aston Villa(+1.5) 1.9
let's play around with the numbers.
with probability p, arsenal clears, with probability (1-p), aston villa clears.
sum of probabilities has to = 1. let's see if we can figure out the bookie's spread.
ok. in a fair bet, we should have the following two equations.
1.94p = 1
1.90(1-p) = 1, where 1 is the initial outlay of the bettor.
solving, we get p = 0.515, (1-p) = 0.4736. p+1-p not equal to 1.
what should be the fair price to play the game? clearly one in which the risk-neutral probabilities (implicit in prices quoted) sum to 1, as in real life. call this price x.
1.94p =x, 1.9(1-p) = x => x/1.94 + x/1.9 = 1
solving, x = 0.959. you are charged �1 for a 95.9 pence game. bookie's spread = 4.28%
let's try another game, man utd (-1.5) 1.92 vs fulham (+1.5) 1.92
this is simpler, 2x/1.92 = 1. x= 0.96, charged �1 for a 96 pence game, spread = 4.167..%
lastly, chelsea (-1.5) 1.88 and man city (+1.5) 1.96
x/1.88 + x/1.96 = 1, x= 95.9 pence. bookie's spread = 4.28% Again! for a different set of prices.
let's try two conjectures:
the closer the prices quoted (by the market), the less premium a bookie has to quote.
this is because demand for both sides is likely to be more symmetric, thus the likelihood of an extreme payoff in one direction is less.
conversely, the more asymmetric the prices, the higher the spread, to compensate for risk.
therefore, a three-state game should have a higher spread as it should have higher variation.
we are also assuming that interest rate earned(foregone) by the bookie(bettor), is negligible, but this is hard to estimate unless i work inside the betting company. after all, you leave money in your account which accrues interest which lowers your payoff and increases theirs. but assuming it's a really short period of time it's negligible.
ok. i need more data, and maybe i will work on the ones with more states. until next time, remember, you lose 4.xx% of your bet on average! gamble wisely!
7/23/2006
needed a weekend break
weapon of choice. volkswagen golf gti 2.0 Mark V. hatchbacks don't carry extra ass around. these slim, mean machines reach 60 mph in 6.9, 100kmh for the imperial-units-challenged. (just the other day girl asked me how hot 37 degrees was in fahrenheit, yes, it got that bad in the uk. i tried multiplying 37 by 9/5 and adding 32, but wait, there's a boyband called 98 degrees. and that's body temperature! and haha so i answered 98 degrees! the actual quoted to 3 d.p. is 98.6) yes they love talking about the weather here. i love how red the car is. according to a certain uncle charles , "handles like a tank", but it's size should be perfect zipping around the "just enough for two cars, or one and a half and a cyclist" back roads of the west country. after all, we're not talking about the autobahn or route 66, for which other choice models are perhaps more appropriate. i swear his skill in countryside driving is unparalleled for someone his age, the way he flashes the high beam on and off and takes it round the bend. unfortunately, we were only in a vw polo. but see, i'm realistic, and you people can dream about your maseratis and convertibles, i guess i'll have to settle for mean ol' hatchback. it's sgd 126,000 though, attainable but still not cheap. also, not much space in the car for much else but driving =).
zipped us from bristol to his house back in shepton mallet, quiet village in somerset. this though is bath, and the river avon. the springs there are actually warm. uncle charles is my friend zhenliang's uncle-in-law, who calls the west country home and who has at different times apparently been in the royal navy, british american tobacco and likes to regale me about tales of hong kong during the revolution and malaysia.
stonehenge is in wiltshire, a bit to the east... rolling hills give way to rolling plains, and the sarsens suddenly rise up from the downs.
7/14/2006
" a thing of beauty is a joy forever" - keats
the sun was out today, the sky was completely blue, and more proud people graduated. lectures reached their absolute nadir today, and i swear that then the lecturer said "now that we're moving on to the next topic, it would be a good idea to wake up", he was referring to me.
so we were supposed to eat outside for lunch but we bumped into kelvin who'd skipped lecture and came all the way to lse to eat (whaa...?). watched the graduation video play to infinity and i actually caught adrian walking up. fabian's brother was here too. but we ended up sitting inside discussing paulo coelho. i personally think he's crapped, but to be fair some stuff was probably lost in translation but he's really just to zen and spaced out for me. also pretty boring.
you see yah as the italian guy went over how to miss someone in italian, i remembered:
in french, you say "elle me manque", for i miss her. now that is ten times more appropriate i feel, because it is her missing that is doing stuff to you. you are the object and she's the subject. "i miss her" is so totally bland and misses the point. who are you to miss her? so yeah stuff like that gets lost in translation.
so, what's in : sitting in patch of grass reading a novel. good thing about novels is that you can't finish it in a day. i love the tumult of world war 2, i love french writers, i love how they thought germans were just prussians re-enacting the franco-prussian war, and i love it when they say
"a thing of beauty is a guilt forever"
the sun was out today, the sky was completely blue, and more proud people graduated. lectures reached their absolute nadir today, and i swear that then the lecturer said "now that we're moving on to the next topic, it would be a good idea to wake up", he was referring to me.
so we were supposed to eat outside for lunch but we bumped into kelvin who'd skipped lecture and came all the way to lse to eat (whaa...?). watched the graduation video play to infinity and i actually caught adrian walking up. fabian's brother was here too. but we ended up sitting inside discussing paulo coelho. i personally think he's crapped, but to be fair some stuff was probably lost in translation but he's really just to zen and spaced out for me. also pretty boring.
you see yah as the italian guy went over how to miss someone in italian, i remembered:
in french, you say "elle me manque", for i miss her. now that is ten times more appropriate i feel, because it is her missing that is doing stuff to you. you are the object and she's the subject. "i miss her" is so totally bland and misses the point. who are you to miss her? so yeah stuff like that gets lost in translation.
so, what's in : sitting in patch of grass reading a novel. good thing about novels is that you can't finish it in a day. i love the tumult of world war 2, i love french writers, i love how they thought germans were just prussians re-enacting the franco-prussian war, and i love it when they say
"a thing of beauty is a guilt forever"
7/13/2006
"trezeguet must be a really good footballer to hit the bar on purpose".
dad's response : "no, zidane was supposed to hit the bar on purpose with his penalty, but age withered his accuracy, and alas, he struck the underside of the bar instead. fearing that he had failed to execute the mafia's orders, he got himself sent off later, after materazzi had given him the signal, and threatened zidane's family. trezeguet, himself being an accomplished footballer, did what his captain couldn't."
did you know klinsmann told klose to turn his light on by using his football to slip the switch for practice? so you never know...
and there's a video of ronaldinho hitting the bar thrice, though we all know that's fake.
dad's response : "no, zidane was supposed to hit the bar on purpose with his penalty, but age withered his accuracy, and alas, he struck the underside of the bar instead. fearing that he had failed to execute the mafia's orders, he got himself sent off later, after materazzi had given him the signal, and threatened zidane's family. trezeguet, himself being an accomplished footballer, did what his captain couldn't."
did you know klinsmann told klose to turn his light on by using his football to slip the switch for practice? so you never know...
and there's a video of ronaldinho hitting the bar thrice, though we all know that's fake.
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