Who Put Christian Songs on our Radioblog?

It's been many many bottles of Glenfiddich since the inaugural season of The High Levels ended.

Unfortunately we haven't been in either planning, production or post-production (or a restrospective nomination of production as Tay-Tarik might have said) of Season 2 during this time. Instead we've been locked in a bitter dispute of which High Level should be the next in line to contribute an article. Of all the arguments made, the most compelling claim came from tRYATHLETE when he said, "I'm not posting anymore doo dah doo dah. I'm not posting anymore dah dah doo dah day. No more..."

I think however the time has come for this stalemate to be broken and for us to resume our public service. As such it is my distinct pleasure to give you the highly anticipated Season 2 (Semester 1) of The High Levels feat. a fine first article by Tay-Tarik.

*applause*

TopGun - A Short Defense Of

For years now, there has been something I've been wanting to get off my chest and now I think the time has come for me to register my protest.

Quite simply the problem (apparently; though I myself don't see it as one) is that I think of TopGun as one of the epic stories of our time. Granted it does not run nearly as long as a Tolstoy but who has the time anymore for long winded Russian Realism? In a little under two hours, TopGun expounds all the profundities of life be it friendship, love, self doubt and self discovery or the absurdity of Cold War logic painting these against the etherised canvas of a timeless dream - of Man's Icarusian desire to as Rushdie put it, be "creatures of air...reborn in flight" and having shuffled off these coils, soar unshackled amongst the clouds. TopGun exposes a modernity which by the inexorable anabasis of its progress has imposed upon us all the rat race and the idea of competition - or "the need - the need for speed" if you like - via the sublime allegory of F-14s zipping hither-thither across the skies at Mach 2 trying to outdo each other. Sound familiar?

Did your heart not break when Viper uttered those three cold words of inevitability - Goose is dead? Did your soul not soar believing that there was hope for love afterall when Charlie returned, popped a quarter into the jukebox and... ah the dance of life. Were you not also at the moment of your greatest doubting, looking up to the heavens saying, "Talk to me ______. Talk to me." Did you not, when jet fighters were being blown up in great balls of fire, like Sting, also hope that the Russians love(d) their children? Have we not all at one point of our life or another wanted to be "the best of the best"?

Were you not entertained?!!!!

I have seen TopGun 67 times now; yes, I can lip synch the dialogue and I have endured the endless the ridicule of dilettantes who subscribe to the tyranny of opinion as it is circulated by a group of 'specialists' who have taken it upon themselves to anoint The Criterion amongst films. But I have not always been strong; like Maverick my faith too has wavered and there have been times when I may have "lost that lovin' feeling" and felt like I was flying on vapour with no landing in sight. But somehow always, I pop in the DVD and I "re-engage". Oh TopGun has never failed to "take my breath away".

If anyone's looking for me, I'll be out somewhere on a "highway to the dangerzone"...

Excuses R' Us

Again, we're terribly sorry. We're dying to post but we're just all really busy sial. You see we The High Levels are constantly challenging ourselves in a bid to outdo each other (think the Navy SEALs when they invented the Ironman Triathlon). As such, we are currently trying to see how many papers each of us can squeeze into a weekend period. Some of us however, are already on tilt...

So tell you what, I'll ramble on for a coupla paragraphs and we'll call that a post.

I got a call from a very excited tRYATHLETE last nite. It seems, Techno, Token and himself were recognized outside of FongSeng by a High Level reader.

To that High Level reader:
If the boys seemed somewhat reticent it was only because they were taken aback by your approach and they were coming to terms with the enormity of the event as you spoke to them. tRY last nite and Techno when we spoke earlier assured me that had they been more collected and together, they'd have at the very least offered to buy you a tay..errr..teh-tarik if and after you had turned down their intial offer to autograph something. Token Manjen since this afternoon in fact, has been working on a script to more effectively engage such future approaches on the street.

Personally, I've known these lads for awhile now, and like me, they are all that extremely shy sort. Except maybe The HEAT who has had considerably more experience in dealing with this sort of publicity.

Which brings me to...

The High Level Team of the Month



The High Levels would like to congratulate the NUS rugby team (albeit f@&#%$g belatedly) on winning the IVP tournament. You can catch them performing their Hakka live @ Taka this Saturday.

Finally...What I have learnt about myself this week:

That I don't speak Tamil well enough to conduct NE quizzes in Tamil. Then again its not really my fault. Growing up I never had friends called Jega or Loga or Kurumbian...Still don't, come to think of it.

What It Should've Been...

In my last post I said something to the effect that Tay-Tarik was probably on a tennis court somewhere getting his arse severely whipped by his girlfriend.

What I actually meant to say was that he was "probably dropping a coupla sets here and there to a very good friend. But by and large he'd be giving a good account of himself. How's that for courtsmanship eh?"

So ladies please, continue to harbour your secret hopes of winning his attentions much in the same way that you hope to marry Jay Chou someday. And please, whatever you do, don't stop reading...we'll be back reeeeally soon. Now abit shack la. *buka the big smile all*

Timeout

It's gonna be a quiet few days folks.

All the High Levels are off somewhere in their neutral corners either shitting out term papers or pretending to be flustered about not understanding Game Theory. I for one am only 4 pages into this 15 page rubbish I'm spouting that's due on Monday. And this is on top of the Deviance paper I have due on said Monday as well. Anyway I figure that even if I miss the deadline on that one, at least the social audience i.e. the good Dr. G*na will appreciate the deviance of such an act without engaging in acts of otherization using ethnicity as a master indicator.

Anyway here's an update of what everyone else is up to...

Tay-Tarik:
He's either in the canteen working on his paper or on the tennis court getting his ass severely kicked by his girlfriend....how's that for courtship eh? In anycase fans, he assures me that he has a big post planned in the next week.

tRYATHLETE:
Probably sleeping after punishing the Game Theory test...

The HEAT:
Probably ironing his socks for the big Cleo pageant...woat for him here!

Techno Telugu
Definitely sleeping...Dei thanx for lending me the book dei. You're in my acknowledgements at the back of the essay...right after Chomsky for actually writing the book.

Tek-Sappot:
No idea sial...probably attending to missed calls. (Private joke...don't worry about it)

Right then, we'll see yall in a few days. Until then, remember to share the darjeeling.

Ba Dum Channgg!!!

The place: Mama stall at coffee shop along Mohd. Sultan
The Time: About 4am

Mama stall Man: Hallo what you want to eat?

Mama Fella: Uncle how about some satay?

MSM: How many stick you want?

MF: Ummm...lets say 15 chicken, 15 mutton?

MSM: Ok..anything else?

MF: Ahh no laa...I think enough.

MSM: Ok

MF (as MSM is walking away): Uncle! Kao-kao ah!!

20 Minutes later...the satay arrives.

MF #2: Dei...this doesn't look like chicken dei.

MF: Sial ah...I think you're right dei. Uncle! This is not chicken. This is beef!!

MSM: Ya...you said cow wat!!!

Apologia

Dear Readers,

You might have noticed that the NUS Smoking Dragnet post that used to inhabit this space has been removed. We at the High Level Project would like to assure the conspiracy-theorists amongst you that it has not been removed as a direct result of the authorities 'getting' to us. Rather, we have done so because the standard of writing on that one was shoddy to say the least. It was, as some of us might put it, minging.

What seemed hilarious at 5 in the morning proved to be considerably less so after some very much needed sleep. I feel, rather belatedly, that anyone who needs to make up fictitious characters called Sgt. Shaun or rely on nameplay like Gaylord Focker in order to draw a laugh (or heaven forbid, two) ought to be volunteered for suicide bomb detail.

In any case, we just want to assure our readership that your support is very much appreciated and we will endeavour not publish such rubbish ever again.

Thank you for your continuing support.



It should be noted in passing, that the article in question was written by me.

Why Can't We All Just Get Along.....Without Onions?

The thing I don't get is what purpose does onion serve in cooking? It's not a vegetable (in my strict purist sense), it's not a meat, its not a condiment, what the hell does it do? And yet every Indian house you go to, there it is!! Indians buy onions the way terrorists but ammonium nitrate - by the truckloads. Now I'm sure tomorrow that if the Occident invaded India, we'd find a way to make bombs of onions.

Indian dishes are usually like this: Onion curry with a bit of chicken, onion sambal with some prawns, onion rice with a dash of the briyani. That sorta thing. The best part is everybody automatically assumes you want onion. Typical ordering at the mama shop for me goes something like this,

Me: 'bang, mutton steak goreng satu?Bawang kasi cancel (no onion indicator)

Others: 'bang, blah blah blah satu, blah blah blah blah blah dua....

Me: boss no onions ah please? (no onion indicator #2)

Indian Waiter: ok no prablem...drinks?

Everybody: blah blah bloody blah...

Indian Waiter: ok tenggiu...

Me: (one last time as he's leaving) anney, vengayam vaenda? (no onion indicator #3)

Fast-forward to 15 minutes later....food arrives.

Friend: Eh dei, they jacking you dei...check out the size of those onions!