2012: The End of The World (Again)

The eschatologies of various mythologies
offer their apologies that in their chronology
next year will unfortunately be our last
who’d have thought we’d see the end arrive so fast?

Starting with the count of the Mayan system
people are saying you should listen
not to Harold Camping’s wisdom
but the alien prediction
of a collision and our eventual extinction.

This theory gave us movies like 2012,
which no doubt made Mayan cognoscenti hurl,
and if you ask me then I do say
this’ll probably go the same way as Y2K
but apparently we face enough panic and trepidation
that the National Space Aeronautic Administration
has seen fit to state all clear and nothing to fear.
So for now, I guess, just have a great new year!

Image from here

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Misleading Names

Sometimes before a test I read a text
inspect the index and get vexed
by the way they name names
in the main it’s insane
the lame games
leading to these far from plain names.

Intermittent explosive disorder, just to start off
first hearing about it you’d think it must be part of
some sort of under-hand terror plot
but understand that’s an error – it’s not.
It’s just people who’s mood can turn quickly to rage
(I learned that from a Wikipedia page).

Or, worse yet, super male syndrome would imply
sufferers with super strength who could in fact fly
but no, they don’t even have laser vision!
clearly this eponym needs major revision.

Let’s not even start on Sonic Hedgehog diprosopus
and leprechaunism or they’d never stop us
because it seems logic just goes right out the door
-perhaps geneticists shouldn’t write books anymore.

Dancing Med Students

Ok people, listen,
get out of the fetal position
repro’s over for now, until exam revision.
The uni’s next planned decision
is to teach us with bland precision
the ins and outs of the MS division.

Musculoskeletal – sprains and strains
fractures and rheumatologic pains.
The examination’s like a series of games
I always win at Yergason’s when the patient’s lame.

But how do you remember the order for supination,
extension, flexion and internal rotation?
Much less all the tests for intact sensation,
it’s really all just an overload of information.

So everyone seems to be formulating dances
the patient copies the moves and the chance is
good that you’ll eventually get all the answers,
cover every test except the ones for cancer.

And sure, that strategy’s sound
but it’s a little disconcerting when I look around
to see half the people in the room bobbing up and down
adducting their shoulders like epileptic clowns.

Oh well, at least their ridiculous actions
provide me with some welcome distraction
from reading up on muscle fibre interaction…

Exit, Pursued by Dogs

News on my placement for the end of the year:
it looks like I won’t have to spend it here.
I’ve been approved for Dubai in November.
And while I’m overseas, I might sight-see in December.

But amid all this talk of international rotations,
classmates posting applications to distant nations
and their seemingly never ending conversations
on the frustrations
of ambiguous indications from hospital administrations,
I can’t help but sit back and recall
how it was before
back in ‘09 when I went to Singapore.

Well, I was quite broke back then
(plus ça change, plus c’est la même)
so I scoured the internet up and down
until I found the cheapest room and board around,
I ended up in the spare room of a siao liao gal.
It was uncanny how, her life seemed to resemble a Channel 8 drama
but I guess boarding so cheap that was probably my karma
and between two months of observing her life
with apparent addiction to chaos and strife,
I was pursued by a pack of eponymous hounds
I found them hanging around at the edge of town.

See trains and buses had stopped for the night
so, out of options, I hopped in a taxi despite
the cost and not knowing my precise address
my guess was close enough that I thought it best
to just get out and walk the rest.

Within a few hundred meters of my destination,
I managed to recognise a railway station
and decided I’d just follow the train line home.
I would have checked more carefully if only I’d known.
I picked the wrong direction to walk along the MRT,
the path got quieter til there was no-one bar me.

By the time I realised I was all alone
in a nearly deserted commercial zone
and decided maybe this wasn’t quite right
I’d walked almost an hour through the moonlit night.

I decided to turn and find my way back
and that’s when I ran into a stray pack
of five large dogs ready to attack
growling and snapping trying to circle my back.

I walked backwards all the way to the main road
keys in hand (the only sharp thing I had stowed).
Fortunately, once I re-emerged into streetlight
the dogs paused for a moment on the edge of the night
then decided to leave me alone
free to return to the long walk home.

A picture of me shortly before wandering off to be chased by dogs
(Apparently that thing on the so-called lantern has its own movie too. Who’d have thought?)

Jet Lag Sans Jet

In the blink of an eye, time flies by
leaves us wondering how, where, why
the days got away and I really can’t say
what happened to our holidays but anyway
now it’s time to return for second term
to learn more about neuro, repro and derm
but between every lesson we ask the same question,
“What did you do while uni wasn’t in session?”
and most of this conversational procession
are professing the same confession:

“During semester I couldn’t sleep at night, right?
So why fight somnolence when I can do what I like?
Despite the zeit-geber I thought I might
catch up with sleep both day and night
irrespective of dark and light.

Now we’re back on our normal timetable
my sleep pattern could be labelled unstable, I’m unable
to reconcile my sleep phase with the days, it plays
havoc the problem lays in the way I stay
on the biorhythm I was living
in the two weeks given
for us to relax and it’s still out of whack
in fact I lack the ability to get it back on track.”

It’s classic jet lag – a text book example
except all the students in this ample sample
didn’t roam but stayed home in their own time zone.
(And you’re not alone in wondering why this poem’s shown
up after such a delay by the way,
it’s cos my internal clock’s still on Tuesday)

Diversification

Is there a way to add an extra dimension to this rhyme?
that’s one of the questions I ponder on from time to time.
Something simple that doesn’t need a lot of extra thought
a way to add a second layer, a hidden meaning of sorts.
Now what should I do? Which trick is best?
Anagrams can work but they’re too tough and a test.
Could I author a lipogram similar to Gadsby?
Roll a dice or flip a coin on doing aleatory?
Obviously you’d dodge English shiritori.
Start a http//asti-aibohphobia? It’s apt that. Rats,
too difficult to rhyme while doing that.
In the end all those things are just too hard for me
Could there be something easier? Look left and see.

Review: Super 8

My brain’s still shifting back into gear
after the first exam set of first year
so for now I think I’m gonna steer clear
of broaching another academic topic on here.

Instead, let’s review a random movie!
Even though Super 8 failed to move me
it’s basically enjoyable if you can suspend disbelief
(if you can’t, then the closing credits will be a relief at least).

Spielberg reprises his behind the scenes role
to create another film like ET – but with explosions and plot holes.
The film didn’t seem quite sure what it was aiming to portray –
the alien’s meant to be sympathetic but eats innocent people anyway.
I mean really, Spielberg, are we supposed to just say that’s okay?

Now at the start it looks like it might be headed for horror
and that would have been great but it brings me sorrow
to inform you that it actually ends in heavy handed moralising
(yes, that’s Spielberg, but the lack of subtlety’s still suprising).

It had some funny moments, it was almost worth seen
and although this review is harsh I think it’s fair to demean
the film for the lack of focus and internal logic which mars
the entire plot. Thus I rate it two and a half stars.

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