leaving dec 4

Can't wait! Can't wait! Have a lot of work to do, but I'm so excited I can't concentrate!!

Who am I kidding, I usually can't concentrate anyway, but now I have a good excuse!!!

PTL, did finish a one-page dissertation prospectus, will turn it in to my chair in about an hour and a half. I've figured out she really does have a soft heart, so I kinda bargained her down to "1 page" re the prospectus, hahaha!!

fantastic concert!!

Went to a performance by a brass quintet called "Canadian Brass," and it was AMAZING!! Very very fun, and a wonderful performance. If you ever get a chance to hear them, you SHOULD GO!!!!!!

Michael Backman, Part II

The response to my recent column 'While Malaysia fiddles, its opportunities are running dry,' published in The Age newspaper on November 15 has been overwhelming. I've received hundreds of e-mails and messages, many from Malaysians both in Malaysia and outside, of which perhaps 95% have been supportive. Thank you for these. It seems that the column has given voice to concerns that many Malaysians have.

I'd like to emphasise (and as many of you realise already), that I wrote the column as constructive criticism. I like Malaysia very much. I visit often and have many Malaysian friends of all races. I've also written a lot that is positive about Malaysia in the past, most notably in a previous book of mine - The Asian Insider: Unconventional Wisdom for Asian Business, which has no less than five chapters to explain to people outside Malaysia why I feel that Malaysia should be given more credit than it gets.

There have been many achievements. There is much about which Malaysians can be proud. Malaysia, for example, is far more politically mature and developed than is Singapore. The media is more open too (but of course not as open as it could or should be.) Malaysians are more entrepreneurial too. AirAsia started in Malaysia and has revolutionised air travel across Asia. In Singapore, there is very much a sense that the government has to do everything.

I also believe that the NEP, which has seen special advantages given to bumiputeras over other groups, has been important for Malaysia. It has been essential for nation building. Malaysia is peaceful and while the various groups may not mix much there is clear mutual respect between them. That is a huge achievement.

However, the problem as I said in my column, is waste. And also the use of statistics that are blatantly wrong. Malaysia also has a big problem with transparency. Too little account is made of how other people's money is spent. The police too are way too corrupt for a country as developed as Malaysia. The rote learning that is practiced in the schools also needs to be done away with. Generations of Malaysian children are missing out on an education that should teach them how to be creative and critical - this is what a truly modern, boleh country needs. Again, my comments are meant to be constructive. And I make them as a non-Malaysian largely because many Malaysians feel rightly or wrongly that they cannot say these things themselves in their own country.

Since my column was published, plans for a new RM400 million Istana have been announced and the Agriculture Ministry parliamentary secretary has told Parliament that Malaysia's first astronaut will be playing batu seremban and spinning tops and making teh tarik while in space. There are countless scientists around the world who would give anything for the opportunity to go to space and do real experiments. For the Malaysian government to send an astronaut into space to play Malay children's games serves only to re-emphasise my point about waste. Not only that, it makes Malaysia look infantile in the eyes of the rest of the world, which is a great pity when Malaysia has made so many real achievements. The world is getting more clever, more competitive and more dynamic every day. There are too many in Malaysia who don't seem to understand this.

Of course my views are just that: my views. But I have spent most of my adult life analysing and writing about Asia. I am direct and critical; I do not veil my criticisms because I don't want to waste my time or yours with readers trying to guess what I really mean. Open debate is absolutely critical for all modern, dynamic countries. The free flow of ideas and information helps to make countries rich. Political leaders cannot do everything on their own be they in the UK, Australia or Malaysia. They need help. Otherwise they make mistakes. And when they do, whose fault is that? Those who prefer to stay quiet? And should I as a non-Malaysian be commenting on Malaysia? Of course. Malaysian political leaders and commentators routinely comment about other countries. That's how the world is now, an inter-dependent, global world. And the world is much better for it.

I will write another column about Malaysia soon.

Michael Backman
November 17 2006

Jenga!

The day after Thanksgiving, I went out for lunch with the gang of Malaysian grad students here (in 2 weeks or so, it will only be and Cheong left at Cornell) and what was supposed to be "lunch" turned into "coffee after lunch" and "games after coffee" and we didn't leave until we had thoroughly stressed ourselves out with our "games."

Surprisingly, I didn't lose! I basically stopped breathing every time it was my turn to move a block.

Have done so little work this break . . . :(

conference in Dec

Borat

Saw the movie, Borat, two days ago, and it was quite funny, but not as biting a social commentary as we were hoping. Went with a group of folks from my dorm. Again. Yes, I will have very few friends outside the dorm soon.

They had a few very funny clips, esp at the beginning of the movie, but toward the middle, it was just getting more and more unbelievable. I couldn't believe some of the reactions of the real-life people who were caught on film reacting to the "fictional character" Borat.

The section where Borat visited a charasmatic church in Texas was particularly disturbing. It wasn't the fault of the filmmaker's part, I don't think. Visiting charasmatic churches can be a strange enough experience sometimes, but actually seeing them on film . . . sorry, I'm distancing myself even more from that particular aspect of Christianity!

from Rzim (see link on sidebar)

In every season of a life moving toward God, the
psalmist shows us that the one we journey toward is the reality that sets
our hearts toward pilgrimage in the first place.  In this alone is there
not reason to give thanks along the way?  We seek because there is one
to find.  Whether in loneliness or in triumph, we are given songs
to sing.  And in Christ we find the most hopeful image of a pilgrim, a man
who knew he was far way from home, and laid down his life to show us the
way.  We are promised that the road is costly, even as he offers a burden
that is easy and a yoke that is light.

As the weary pilgrims of Israel made their ascent to the Temple Mount in
Jerusalem, they sang with the journey yet on their hearts: "How lovely is
your dwelling place, O LORD Almighty!  My soul yearns, even faints, for
the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God"
(84:1-2). 

It is a stirring image: a great crowd making the ascent to worship God
after a long journey already wrought with thanksgiving on their lips.  It
is all the more stirring to see yourself as one of them:  "Blessed are
those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage"
(Psalm 84:5).  

criminalized biscuits?

The Muslim Consumer Association of Malaysia has made a police report against a popular ice-cream maker for producing biscuits that contain an image of the cross/crucifix. The article is available in Malay.

thanksgiving break!

Yay! We're going to have Thurs and Fri off next week for Thanksgiving Break!!! Time to rest and get caught up somewhat with work. As it turns out, most of us in the House will be here over break anyway, so it will only be marginally quieter.

But still, BREAK! I feel like I have so many life/living/daily-errands that I've been neglecting. Really need to get caught up on those too.

fragile

I don't really write about my life in detail because I can't. So much happens, and so much evokes such depths of emotion in me; written words are inadequate.

What prompts this post is actually the imminent departure of one of the faculty guests in our house. She has only been with us for a month, but many of us will miss her greatly. We should hold her hostage; too bad about her students at UCLA. We need her more. Her plane leaves tomorrow afternoon at 3pm, and so I thought we would see her for lunch in our dining room. But she looked at us and said, no, she doesn't think she can do lunch. She refuses to say goodbye.

What measures of grace in my life.

long news post, but worth reading

The news piece came from an Australian paper. Don't want it to disappear, so I'm posting the entire text in this post.

MALAYSIA'S been at it again, arguing about what proportion of
the economy each of its two main races — the Malays and the
Chinese — owns. It's an argument that's been running for 40
years. That wealth and race are not synonymous is important for
national cohesion, but really it's time Malaysia grew up.

It's a tough world out there and there can be little sympathy
for a country that prefers to argue about how to divide wealth
rather than get on with the job of creating it.

The long-held aim is for 30 per cent of corporate equity to be
in Malay hands, but the figure that the Government uses to
justify handing over huge swathes of public companies to Malays
but not to other races is absurd. It bases its figure on equity
valued, not at market value, but at par value.

Many shares have a par value of say $1 but a market value of
$12. And so the Government figure (18.9 per cent is the most
recent figure) is a gross underestimate. Last month a paper by
a researcher at a local think-tank came up with a figure of 45
per cent based on actual stock prices. All hell broke loose.

The paper was withdrawn and the researcher resigned in protest.
Part of the problem is that he is Chinese.

"Malaysia boleh!" is Malaysia's national catch cry. It
translates to "Malaysia can!" and Malaysia certainly can. Few
countries are as good at wasting money. It is richly endowed
with natural resources and the national obsession seems to be
to extract these, sell them off and then collectively spray the
proceeds up against the wall.

This all happens in the context of Malaysia's grossly inflated
sense of its place in the world.

Most Malaysians are convinced that the eyes of the world are on
their country and that their leaders are world figures. This is
thanks to Malaysia's tame media and the bravado of former prime
minister Mahathir Mohamad. The truth is, few people on the
streets of London or New York could point to Malaysia on a map
much less name its prime minister or capital city.

As if to make this point, a recent episode of The Simpsons
features a newsreader trying to announce that a tidal wave had
hit some place called Kuala Lumpur. He couldn't pronounce the
city's name and so made up one, as if no-one cared anyway. But
the joke was on the script writers — Kuala Lumpur is inland.

Petronas, the national oil company is well run, particularly
when compared to the disaster that passes for a national oil
company in neighbouring Indonesia. But in some respects, this
is Malaysia's problem. The very success of Petronas means that
it is used to underwrite all manner of excess.

The KLCC development in central Kuala Lumpur is an example. It
includes the Twin Towers, the tallest buildings in the world
when they were built, which was their point.

It certainly wasn't that there was an office shortage in Kuala
Lumpur — there wasn't.

Malaysians are very proud of these towers. Goodness knows why.
They had little to do with them. The money for them came out of
the ground and the engineering was contracted out to South
Korean companies.

They don't even run the shopping centre that's beneath them.
That's handled by Australia's Westfield.

Next year, a Malaysian astronaut will go into space aboard a
Russian rocket — the first Malay in space. And the cost? $RM95
million ($A34.3 million), to be footed by Malaysian taxpayers.
The Science and Technology Minister has said that a moon
landing in 2020 is the next target, aboard a US flight. There's
no indication of what the Americans will charge for this,
assuming there's even a chance that they will consider it. But
what is Malaysia getting by using the space programs of others
as a taxi service? There are no obvious technical benefits, but
no doubt Malaysians will be told once again, that they are
"boleh". The trouble is, they're not. It's not their space
program.

Back in July, the Government announced that it would spend
$RM490 million on a sports complex near the London Olympics
site so that Malaysian athletes can train there and "get used
to cold weather".

But the summer Olympics are held in the summer.

So what is the complex's real purpose? The dozens of goodwill
missions by ministers and bureaucrats to London to check on the
centre's construction and then on the athletes while they train
might provide a clue.

Bank bale outs, a formula one racing track, an entire new
capital city — Petronas has paid for them all. It's been an
orgy of nonsense that Malaysia can ill afford.

Why? Because Malaysia's oil will run out in about 19 years. As
it is, Malaysia will become a net oil importer in 2011 — that's
just five years away.

So it's in this context that the latest debate about race and
wealth is so sad.

It is time to move on, time to prepare the economy for life
after oil. But, like Nero fiddling while Rome burned, the
Malaysian Government is more interested in stunts like sending
a Malaysian into space when Malaysia's inadequate schools could
have done with the cash, and arguing about wealth distribution
using transparently ridiculous statistics.

That's not Malaysia "boleh", that's Malaysia "bodoh" (stupid).

email: michaelbackman@yahoo.com
http://www.michaelbackman.com

A Slice of Infinity

I really like "A Slice of Infinity," produced by Ravi Zacharias Ministries.

Can't reproduce the entire piece (IP), but these are the first 2 lines of the column for 11/15/2006)

"God is so often not the God we expect Him to be, and often it is shocking to discover it.  God comes near and offends our sense of understanding; He
affronts our categories and overturns our sense of familiarity.

I also really liked the column for 11/9/06, entitled "Where is the Wisdom."

crying

stole this from Uncle Paul's page

Away In A Manger
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sometimes a simple Christmas carol can change a person's life.

One afternoon about a week before Christmas, my family of four piled into our minivan to run an errand, and this question came from a small voice in the back seat: "Dad," began my five-year-old son, Patrick, "how come I've never seen you cry?"

Just like that. No preamble. No warning. Surprised, I mumbled something about crying when he wasn't around, but I knew that Patrick had put his young finger on the largest obstacle to my own peace and contentment -- the dragon-filled moat separating me from the fullest human expression of joy, sadness and anger. Simply put, I could not cry.

I am scarcely the only man for whom this is true. We men have been conditioned to believe that stoicism is the embodiment of strength. We have traveled through life with stiff upper lips, secretly dying within.

For most of my adult life I have battled depression. Doctors have said much of my problem is physiological, and they have treated it with medication. But I know that my illness is also attributable to years of swallowing rage, sadness, even joy.

Strange as it seems, in this world where macho is everything, drunkenness and depression are safer ways for men to deal with feelings than tears. I could only hope the same debilitating
handicap would not be passed to the next generation.

So the following day when Patrick and I were in the van after playing at a park, I thanked him for his curiosity. Tears are a good thing, I told him, for boys and girls alike. Crying is God's
way of healing people when they're sad. "I'm glad you can cry whenever you're sad," I said. "Sometimes daddies have a harder time showing how they feel. Someday I hope to do better."

Patrick nodded. In truth, I held out little hope. But in the days before Christmas I prayed that somehow I could connect with the dusty core of my own emotions.

"I was wondering if Patrick would sing a verse of 'Away in a Manger' during the service on Christmas Eve," the church youth director asked in a message left on our answering machine.

My wife, Catherine, and I struggled to contain our excitement. Our son's first solo.

Catherine delicately broached the possibility, reminding Patrick how beautifully he sang, telling him how much fun it would be. Patrick himself seemed less convinced and frowned. "You know, Mom," he said, "sometimes when I have to do something important, I get
kind of scared."

Grownups feel that way too, he was assured, but the decision was left to him. His deliberations took only a few minutes.

"Okay," Patrick said. "I'll do it."

From the time he was an infant, Patrick has enjoyed an unusual passion for music. By age four he could pound out several bars of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries on the piano.

For the next week Patrick practiced his stanza several times with his mother. A rehersal at the church went well. Still, I could only envision myself at age five, singing into a microphone before hundreds of people. When Christmas Eve arrived, my expectations were limited.

Catherine, our daughter Melanie and I sat with the congregation in darkness as a spotlight found my son, standing alone at the microphone. He was dressed in white, with a pair of angel wings.

Slowly, confidently, Patrick hit every note. As his voice washed over the people, he seemed a true angel, a true bestower of Christmas miracles.

There was eternity in Patrick's voice that night, a beauty rich enough to penetrate any reserve. At the sound of my son, heavy tears welled at the corners of my eyes.

His song was soon over, and the congregation applauded. Catherine brushed away tears. Melanie sobbed next to me.

After the service, I moved to congratulate Patrick, but he had more urgent priorities. "Mom," he said as his costume was stripped away, "I have to go to the bathroom."

As Patrick disappeared, the pastor wished me a Merry Christmas, but emotion choked off my reply. Outside the sanctuary I received congratulations from fellow church members.

I found my son as he emerged from the bathroom. "Patrick, I need to talk to you about something," I said, smiling. I took him by the hand and led him into a room where we could be alone. I knelt to his height and admired his young face, the large blue eyes, the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks, the dimple on one side.

He looked at my moist eyes quizzically.

"Patrick, do you remember when you asked me why you had never seen me cry?"

He nodded.

"Well, I'm crying now."

"Why, Dad?"

"Your singing was so wonderful it made me cry."

Patrick smiled proudly and flew into my arms.

"Sometimes," my son said into my shoulder, "life is so beautiful you have to cry."

Our moment together was over too soon. Untold treasures awaited our five-year-old beneath the tree at home, but I wasn't ready for the traditional plunge into Christmas just yet. I handed Catherine the keys and set off for the mile-long hike home.

The night was cold and crisp. I crossed a park and admired the full moon hanging low over a neighborhood brightly lit in the colors of the season. As I turned toward home, I met a car moving slowly down the street, a family taking in the area's Christmas lights. Someone
rolled down a window.

"Merry Christmas," a child's voice yelled out to me.

"Merry Christmas," I yelled back. And the tears began to flow all over again.

- Author Unknown

wealth

I am exhausted. My life is immeasurably richer than I could have chosen for myself.

But I am exhausted.

predictions

Sh*t has indeed hit the fan. Blind-sided kind of sh*t hitting the fan. Not able to talk about it, but boy, this week is fun, fun, fun. Persons X and Y are involved, but it also involves Person A and B.

Also, problem student has resurfaced, and that's it, I will not put up with that student's nonsense anymore. In general, the student has a very mistaken idea about college and its people, and how to treat people who work for colleges. That's annoying at best, but when there are all sorts of stuff going on already, the student's lack of respect and unreasonable requests does not help that student achieve what the student wants to achieve (which is a C in the class).

The student missed the appointment this morning, which was at 10:15am. I was there until 11:15 meeting with other students. The student writes at 2:04pm, asking me where I was, that said student was looking for me, and that said student was there within THE HOUR and missed the appointment because another appointment ran over time. Why is the student lying? And in any case, does the student think that all I have to do is sit there and wait for said student for an hour?? Please! If my profs are in their offices when they say they will be, I count myself lucky! I can't count on them to wait for me for more than 10 minutes at the most!!

These are the first 2 sentences of said student's most recent paper:

"The Magistrate has the common sense (pg 3) to view justice as a depository of conscientious motives; he is a sophisticated government official who has a collective awareness of what is appropriate moral behavior and uses those guidelines to live. His common sense connects to his conscience whereas his superiors who head the Empire have a collective common sense that is not reasonable. "

Lest you think my life is absolutely horrible (overwhelming, perhaps, but not horrible), I should confess that another house-member spent about an hour and a half last night trying to explain quantum mechanics, general relativity and black holes to me. That was pretty fun, actually.

BUT, we also do have the second-round admissions meeting scheduled for this Saturday, regular house-meeting on Sunday (followed by a film viewing I have to run for the class I teach), AND THEN, an emergency house-meeting on Monday night to discuss the debacle involving Persons X, Y, A, and B.

Hmmm, maybe my life is horrible, after all.

bleh

Okay, I guess I'm starting off the week feeling really grumpy.

Oh no, another new week

I am starting this week off tired . . . again! Tired, despite the fact that I procrastinated most of the weekend! Tired. Sigh.

But I guess it hasn't been an absolute waste of time. I'm tired because there has been a lot going on in the house, in terms of interpersonal relationships. At some points, I had to step up to be a friend to someone, and I'm glad that I could be there for those people. And in the past few days, there have been people (most from outside of Ithaka, but not all!) who have stepped up to affirm me, to comfort me, and to let me know that they're still thinking of me even though we're so far apart.:)

I won't start naming people because there are too many to thank.:) But I am truly truly grateful for the little ways people show that they're interested in my life and that they want to continue the friendship. My friendships with you (the plural "you") teaches me how to give, and it sustains me as I give to others.

So, I guess I'm dreading the new week, but not as much as I thought I would. :)

Biblical theology of the city

Read an interesting article by Tim Keller on the city as place sanctified for His works. Very challenging . . . disturbing because I don't like cities. :) I mean that I don't like living in cities, which is why I guess I've thrived in places like Lewiston and Ithaca (not really major cities, if you know what I mean). The works possible in and through cities though . . . lots to think through.

It's Not Me, REALLY!!!!

I understand how some folks can misinterpret my blog entries and think that my dilemma has to do with me and a guy, namely, K-gan, whose picture I deleted from an earlier entry. But really, I took down that picture because I didn't like how I looked in it!!! K-gan and I are still good friends, and we're NOT dating and we will NOT date in the future, EVER! I will have no problems if the question ever comes up, but I don't think the question will come up! We're just friends, and in fact, there are other people in our little circle of friends . . . Morgan and H-nok, especially.

I must say that I need more friends outside of T-ride though. Need some breathing room. :):)

Update on that worrying situation:

It has been resolved! Again, I was not one of the two people involved in that situation, I was merely a witness. What I was most worried about in that situation was that I would be put into the position of judge, and I do not want to be in that position.

I have no problems speaking my mind about how I want to live my life; I do wish I speak with more grace about it, but I have no problems there.

What I struggle with is telling other people how they should live their lives. I don't want to do that! I'm not sure I'm supposed to be doing that! I wouldn't mind if people gave me feedback on how to deal with that part.

The final thing I will say about that unnameable situation is that Person X walked away from the kind of relationship Person Y proposed, and I am very relieved. I'll be honest here and say I have very different views from Person Y, and I have a soft spot for Person X who is wonderfully sensitive, smart, gentle, and mature . . . but who is also very young, and can sometimes be very vulnerable. I'm glad Person X finally decided one way or the other.

And I'm also glad that Person Y isn't asking me what I think about it!!

request

Please ask for wisdom on my behalf. I think people may put me in a position of being judgmental, or to actually verbalize my ethical stance on a particular situation. I don't want to comment on how other people make their decisions or live their lives; but I will not lie if they ask me about what I think. So I'm just really hoping they don't ask me because I know that this particular person will not listen. It probably will not be a helpful or pleasant conversation. Please ask that I don't actually have that conversation!!

scary

Sometimes, I feel like I live in a madhouse. I guess I'm finding out that I'm more conservative than I thought I was. There are a few people . . . okay, pretty much everyone I've talked to about this thing that's freaking me out (which I will not mention because I'm paranoid) is also freaked out by it. So maybe we're all conservatives on that account.

It just seems SO wrong!!!

And even though theoretically--and in other situations besides this one--I'm able to say to myself, "alright, they live by different value systems. We're not here to judge, we're called to love beyond anything else." My instinct in this case is to run, and to run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. Mind you, it isn't just based on this particular incident, but is true in other ways too. My instinct earlier was already to perhaps walk away slowly and unobtrusively, but now, it's just screaming RUN and damned be the consequences!!!

Let's just say that living in the Madhouse is . . . challenging, in many ways. I'm beginning to find out labels like "liberal" or "conservative" or "progressive" or "Christian" or "anything" no longer mean what I thought them to mean. Sometimes, they're pleasant surprises. Other times, I have to struggle really hard to keep my reactions to myself.

This is tough. Living in community is tough. Living with people who have very different value systems is tough. I'm sorry, I don't quite know how to work through this right now.