Great article showing the links between economic theory and real life. Why is it that our professors hardly link real life to theories while teaching us Economics 100? Or maybe it was me, who was too obsessed with getting the right answer to get the A that I never bothered finding the links. I’m a slow starter, but I find the links (which should be the root of all learning of theory) fascinating.

The new entrants to the global economy brought with them little capital of economic value. So, with twice as many workers and little change in the size of the global capital stock, the ratio of global capital to labour has fallen by almost half in a matter of years: probably the biggest such shift in history. And, since this ratio determines the relative returns to labour and capital, it goes a long way to explain recent trends in wages and profits … In most developed countries, wages as a proportion of total national income are currently close to their lowest level for decades.

The flip side is that profits are grabbing a bigger slice of the cake (see chart 4). Last year, America’s after-tax profits rose to their highest as a proportion of GDP for 75 years; the shares of profit in the euro area and Japan are also close to their highest for at least 25 years. This is exactly what economic theory would predict. China’s emergence into the world economy has made labour relatively abundant and capital relatively scarce, and so the relative return to capital has risen. It is ironic that western capitalists can thank the world’s biggest communist country for their good fortune.

Krazy Karen wins the Most Unique Response to A Mindless Chat Question "Whacha doin’?" prize:

"Sitting with gf watching her breastfeed"

I was MIA-ing this weekend. A combination of: (a) no must-gos to go to; (b) intensely hermiting myself in quality quiet alone time to prepare for my 3 week vacation in USA with many Americans that wouldn’t shut up (don’t get me wrong, I love my American friends, but many, not all, of them don’t shut up); (c) spending some quality time with my parents.

So Friday was spent reading Crime & Punishment at home. Although just after midnight, a couple of policemen came to my door. I jumped out of my seat. I was well into the scene where Porfiry the investigator was playing mind-fuck games with Raskolnikov, and when 2 cops appeared at my door while I was slumped on the couch in my sleeping gown, I was kinda taken off-guard and must have looked very guilty to those guys. Of course, that would be a great setting for a porn movie (midnight visitors, (2) men in blue, (1) guilty girl in sleeping gown, Crime & Punishment…), but they just wanted to return my landlord’s lost and found wallet.   

Crime & Punishment is a strange book…I don’t know what to make of it yet. It’s not that I’m enthralled by it, but somehow, I’m eager to know what the fuck it’s all about because I’m 3/5ths into the book and I am still wondering what the fuck it’s all about. Doesn’t help that these Russians have funny names that are 20 letters long and they call each other by different parts of their names all the time. It took me a hundred pages to differentiate Raskolnikov and Razumikhin. And then, you have Raskolnikov’s sister, whose name is Avdotya Romanovna Raskolnikov, but the characters call her Donia. The Russians are funny with their short-form nicknames. I mean, I can see the link if Benny is Ben, or Patrick is Pat. (ok, so we have Richard as Dick is confusing. And William as Bill). But which part of Avdotya Romanovna Raskolnikov is Donia? My Russian friend, Alexander is known as Sasha to his family. Silly me, I should have printed out this guide right from the beginning.

Saturday night was spent with my parents’ at their golf club’s 10th anniversary dinner. Since I was the only female younger than age 50, I won the best dressed contest! Whoohoo! It was a painful experience. I was saboh-ed by my father’s friends to go up there. Then I was made to parade around a dinner with a hundred other middle-aged people. If there is one big phobia in my life, it is to be put under a spotlight…especially with a lackluster trying-too-hard MC whose breath stank like cigarette smoke. Euw. But I got a $200 Courts voucher outta it! Whoohoo! For 15 min of embarrassment, it ain’t too bad. And then my parents and I won the 3rd lucky draw prize…$250 Metro voucher! Whoohoo! I don’t know what I’m gonna get from Metro (quite auntie-ville right?), since I already have too many clothes (my boss put 3 new dresses on my table on Friday! Whoohoo!)…but I’m sure I’d find something. Whoohoo! It feels good to be a winner. Whoohoo!

The night was great. It was filled with middle-aged folks and retirees getting all dressed up and line-dancing, with acts like Olinda from Singapore Idol and an MJ impersonator and lucky draw! How uber-Singaporean! Most of all, I’m glad that I can hang out with my parents at their functions and them at mine, and have fun at that. Not many people my age I know do that. I have very cool parents.

Of course you have already heard about him, but this guy definitely a laugh-out-loud read. I have a nagging suspicion that he is linked to the Talking Cock gang.

Rockson Takumi Tan

He’s kinda like what Xiaxue thinks she is, but isn’t.

Found on Singabloodypore:

The unOfficial Yeo Cheow Tong Website

Ingenious!

Of course, anything to do with NKF is still front page news. But with all the important news events in the world today, I think Zero Gravity Noodles needs to be front page news! 

Oh, and don’t forget you can get 6 pieces of fish McDippers (TM) for only S$2! This week only. Big deal!

I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats! I hate cats!

Or rather, I hate THE cat that poops where it shouldn’t.

After a long day, I really do NOT want to come home to the steaming smell of cat poo in my shower.

I am this close to kicking him out of the window. God help me.  

(chants) "I am at peace with the elements of nature. There is no "good’ or "bad" weather. I can choose my individual reaction to it."

I am thoroughly enjoying Disc 1 of Xen Cuts that Pat had downloaded off from somewhere. I didn’t think I have ever sat down and listened to Ninja Tune before, but apparently I have because it all sounds very familiar. I particularly like 8 Point Agenda and Xen to One ratio.

If any of you have Ninja Tunes music, can I borrow/burn, please? 

What’s in a name?

The US Patent and Trademark Office has rejected a request to trademark “Dykes on Bikes”, the name of a group of lesbian motorcyclists famous for rolling through San Francisco’s streets every June, at the head of the gay pride parade. The Dykes on Bikes sought trademark protection after learning that a Wisconsin woman wanted to sell motorcycle leathers and other clothing under a label of the same name.

Federal patent attorneys ruled that the name was vulgar, and offensive to the general public—they cited Webster’s dictionary, which says “dyke” is often disparaging. But that ruling seems to have missed the (admittedly post-modern) point the group is trying to make. They argue that appropriating a derogatory word like “dyke” subverts its power as a slur, just as gay men regularly use “queer”. To prove their point, they have recruited linguists, psychologists and scholars to help explain the evolution of the word “dyke” over the past 40 years, and they plan on appealing against the office’s decision.

-The Economist Cities Briefing: San Francisco

Hmm…"appropriating a derogatory word…subverts its power as a slur"…interesting notion. I wonder if people see blacks calling their friends ‘my nigga‘ as a way to subvert the power of a slur. I doubt it. Many have argued that it is an unnecessary demeaning of a demeaning term. Like a character in Crash said, you don’t see white people calling each other honky. And you don’t really see us slant eyed people calling each other chinks. Undoubtedly, it is history that gives a word its meaning. ‘Dyke’ is likely to be less controversial than ‘nigger’ because the slave history is arguably far more tragic than the struggles of lesbians (oh! sensitive issues there…I’m talking about relative scale of tragedy). I’d be interested to read how these linguists, psychologists and scholars argue this case out.

I will never quite understand the mind of the racist or hater. I’m a personalityist…I’m biased against people that have bad personalities, e.g. insecure, annoying, irritating, bossy, rude, silly, etc. And those come in any form, black, white, yellow, brown, straight, asexual, gay. Just as wonderful people that I love come in any form. Crazy humans.

No, the Fat Bastard doesn’t have fleas. Thank god. I But he was at the Flea Market, as promised,on Sunday.

The day itself was a financial failure. I barely broke-even. I chalk it up to:

1. The crowd: While there were some people there, I’ve heard the Saturdays are actually far more popular. The Sunday crowd seemed less eager to buy than look-see. Shops set up around mine which, as far as I can see, had far nicer stuff than I had, barely sold anything either.
2. My stuff: Most of which were stuff from my boss that I couldn’t wear/didn’t want. Gave away a bunch of items that people did want the night before at the Chansidine Wine & Cheese party. So that’s 2 levels of filtering out the best stuff. Most of the stuff are wearable for me but just too snug (my boss must have been ridiculously thin). Many browsed through the clothes and most had to put it down with a "too small lah!"Hence, possible customers for the clothes were narrowed down to REALLY SKINNY GIRLS ONLY (as in probably off by more than 1 standard deviation below average).
3. My incredible lack of selling skills: You know the ol’ line "I could sell ice cubes to eskimos"? Well, I couldn’t sell warmers to eskimos. I’m too anti-consumerist (flea market anti-consumersist!) /  individualist / narcissist to bother trying to convince some one to buy something they don’t really need (difficult) nor want (exceedingly difficult). I’m more "dowan? dowan lor!" than try to convince "you want this!" because I feel incredibly guilty if I tried to sway someone to make a choice they wouldn’t have made.

That said, it all didn’t matter, especially after friends started showing up and hanging out. Then, selling was put even more in the sidelines as we consumed the SEVEN filet o’ fish sandwiches (there was a short debate whether to pluralize as filets o’ fish or filet o’ fishes but James Weber! won with filet o’ fish sandwiches) that James Weber! & Kierin brought (they also brought beer! Patrick definitely awoke from his slumber, re: below, after that). I wondered why they would buy SEVEN sandwiches. Then, my wonder was answered as, in the time that Pat and I took to share one, they each had consumed two. The balance (this sounds like a PSLE Math problem sum) was given to Gwen & Eugene. Ta da! SEVEN filet o’ fish sandwiches!

Speaking of eating a lot, I also brought the Fat Cat along as a freak show attraction. He definitely attracted lots. Especially since I put up a big sign above him "WORLD’S FATTEST PUSSY!" "(not for sale)" was added because when Pat carried him in with his backpack, a bunch of girls surrounded him and wanted to buy him. I wish! But ang moh say cannot. Hmph!

Then I put up another sign. Ang moh also not for sale hor? His ass is mine. Patrick ‘Deep Throat’ was clearly quite bored annoyed with the cacophony of competing (bad) music (they should have a central music DJ like Zouk’s Flea & Easy) and entertained himself later with the following, rather disturbing, sms-correspondence on James Weber!’s phone with BGK.

A couple of kids came by. I told them I could take a picture for them and email the picture. I had an idea that since I wasn’t selling clothes, I could take pictures of people with the World’s Fattest Pussy and charge them a buck for each picture. But I’d feel too guilty charging these 2 cute kids anything. Their father gave me his email but it bloody bounced! So if anyone knows these kids, let me know. I hate to think that they are waiting for this picture that I promised I’d give them…

Cat nap…

Pat joins in…(somehow this shot reminds me of this picture from Michelle’s previous flea market attendance…shoulda put up a sign on dat ass. Ken can buy…?)

I refused to purchase anything from the flea market, given that my object for the day was to get rid of stuff, not accumulate more. Although, through the magic of barter, Gwen gave me a lovely batik looking Mango skirt in exchange for the bunch of stuff I gave her the night before. Hurrah for non-monetary swaps!

The day turned out to be so fun that I’m inclined to do this again at the next Zouk/Timberlux flea market to attempt to sell off the unsold. This time, I’d be sure to do it on a Sunday, bring food & beer, our own music, and gather the troops for a flea market party.

Deep Throat leaves tonight, so I’ll be KKSC once more…which means that I’ll be sleeping lonely tonight and the next 10 nights (before I head off on 5th Aug)…*sniff* …which also means that I have to deal with cat poop for the next 10 days…*S-O-B*!!