It always boils down to the smell.

The smell of stale coffee, bad breath and bodily odours. A long night last night, too much work and exasperation: I entertained thoughts of a mini-riot but decided to hunker down and get the work done, so what the heck. I’ve been assimilated, and spent hours last night performing Borg-like tasks and functions. Ugh.

Take a total opposite situation in Paris. Almost two weeks of rioting by “disenfranchised” youth and immigrants. If you’re looking for an interesting take on the situation, head here. I browsed through some of the articles he had compiled and found myself reading this. Check this out, it’ll sound familiar:

Now crime and general disorder are making inroads into places where, not long ago, they were unheard of. At a peaceful and prosperous village near Fontainebleau that I visited—the home of retired high officials and of a former cabinet minister—criminality had made its first appearance only two weeks before. There had been a burglary and a “rodeo”—an impromptu race of youths in stolen cars around the village green, whose fence the car thieves had knocked over to gain access.

A villager called the police, who said they could not come at the moment, but who politely called back half an hour later to find out how things were going. Two hours later still, they finally appeared, but the rodeo had moved on, leaving behind only the remains of a burned-out car. The blackened patch on the road was still visible when I visited.

It’s only natural if you believe this doesn’t happen in Malaysia, see, because over here the Police don’t call back after half an hour to politely inquire after your health. Oh, and by the way, that’s not to say anything about the Police turning up at the scene of a burglary or theft let alone a minor bust-up between rowdy youths. Those with horror stories know what I’m talking about.

Take another amusing turn of events: a few days ago, the Star had a write up on the apparent reasons for graduates not landing jobs, over here. Oh, the blame was spread far and wide, everywhere but on our country’s education policies. Parents bore a bit of the brunt, reasons include excessive tuition and an obsession with kids scoring ‘A’s. I don’t quite get it; since when was academic excellence a downside? Anyways, talk about obfuscation, ya? Today, the Star’s run a front-page piece on tuition… over here.

Misdirection, sleight of hand… blame the problem of jobless graduates on tuition and obsessions about grades, then run a piece on tuition and the arrow points south instead of true north. Ah yes, the bane of all employers: grads who have the grades but who can’t make the grade. Does this sound strange?

A question, though: do they have bloody tuition for university modules/subjects? I can’t imagine having bloody tuition for a sociology of religion module, can you? So, um, really, where does tuition figure in all of this? Aren’t we talking about university grads?