The 22nd Woman And The Untouchable

Donald Trump, he’s the untouchable. He’s so brazen he even trumpeted that he would not be arrested if he shot someone dead in the streets of America. How does one rise to become the untouchable? What skill sets does he have that sets him apart? That he thinks he can kill with impunity? Donald has been accused of sexual misconduct by a woman, no, by twenty two victims, yet he treats them like droplets of water off a duck’s back. Of those accused of multiple sexual misconduct, he alone remains unscathed in this #MeToo age. Nancy Pelosi, armed with the damning Mueller report that’s too thick for most to read, will not move against the untouchable. Apart from Saudi Arabia and Israel, no other nation has thrown confetti at his feet, but neither has The Untouchable thrown himself at anyone’s feet. He tore up hard-won agreements around the world, and in the process has torn apart hard-won trust amongst nations and peace keeping institutions. Trade tariffs and economic sanctions are his foreign policy weapons of choice. The US has imposed a thousand sanctions against foreign entities, a new record. His money wars are being waged across large parts of the world, from Canada, Mexico and Venezuela in the Americas and Europe to Russia and China. Malaysia, Singapore and Vietnam were added to US watchlist for currency manipulation for no other reason than having large trade surpluses with the US. There are thirty nations including Cuba, Syria, Iran, and Venezuela that continue to be disadvantaged from US trade sanctions. Most debilitating is the withholding of medicines to the sick and poor. Today, he threatens Iran with “obliteration” after Tehran described him as mentally retarded. I think the correct word is mad.

E. Jean Carroll, she is the 22nd woman, a journalist, a famous writer. Unlike some of Trump’s earlier accusers, Carroll cannot be accused of going after fame and/or money in coming out. She already has both. She is the 22nd woman to accuse Trump of sexual misconduct, ie harassment, assault or rape. 22 is a staggering number, it is not a typo, the error is Trump. He’s the mistake that the world should quickly erase from the history books. Counting to twenty two takes some time. If proven to be a sexual predator, the urghhling should do time, maybe twenty two years?

Carroll’s story isn’t new, maybe that’s why it failed to make the news headlines. But, the staggering number is new. It is a number I can’t yet get my head around. Twenty two. That is a lot of brave women who dared to fight the system and the immense power of the President of the United States, surely the most powerful man in the world. What is also staggering is America’s attention deficit disorder or is it media fatigue to Trump’s misdeeds? The whole American population is just not interested in the abhorrent behaviour of their President. Or has the sheer invincibility of Trump sheared their resolve to fight his lies, misogyny and warmongering? Or, shall we call it the Trump Paradox? The more he is accused, the less is reported, and therefore the more he gets away with it. Carroll has hardly caused a ripple, it’s not as if she has cast the first stone. Hers is the 22nd, where is the multiplier effect? Especially after the urghhling’s many disgusting comments and boasts e.g. that he could have “nailed” Princess Diana, or that he would have dated Ivanka Trump, “my voluptuous Ivanka”, if she isn’t his daughter, and his misogynistic bravado which was caught on tape.

I moved on her like a bitch.

Grab ’em by the pussy.

When you’re a star, they let you do it.

The urghhling simply disparages his accusers. Calling them ugly and not his type is enough defence for him.

To Voice A Sophie’s Choice

Sophie’s Choice, a 1982 movie starring my favourite Hollywood actress, Merryl Streep, was about the diabolical situation a mother was put in during the Nazi persecution of the Jews in Auschwitz. She must choose between the lives of her two children, only one is to survive, the other will be gassed. And if she can’t make the choice then both will die. Today, when we say we have a Sophie’s Choice to make, we mean we have to choose between two extreme outcomes of which neither is desirable.

I have a dear friend who holds a special place in my heart. To me, she is one of the greatest cello pedagogues Australia has ever produced. Sadly, she has succumbed to Alzheimer’s and can no longer recognise anyone, not even Sophie, her own daughter. Sophie is a wonderful mezzo soprano, fulfilling her lifelong quest to be a world class singer in Europe. Sophie is in town for a week, mainly to spend precious time with her mum. Whilst having dinner with her, the voice in my head told me it’s really a Sophie’s Choice Sophie has made. I confessed to her that my previous visit to her mum was really a selfish act, to soothe my own conscience rather than to please a special friend who may be as forgotten as she has forgotten. What is left of a person who has no memory left? Are we still who we are without our memories? I am comforted when I recall that Sophie’s mum still retains her personality even without her memory. She is still that extroverted Irish lady who readily puts on an American accent, dances and prances about the room upon hearing some familiar happy music.

There is an illusion about “self”. We wrongly assume that our soul or “self” is one continuous “me”. The “self” is similar but not the same forever. The Aniccam in Buddhism teaches us to see through the illusion of self. It is the idea of life being in an impermanent state, a continual change. Sophie’s mum is no longer her old self without her episodic memories but she is still Sophie’s mum. Much of her personality is intact. Similarly, our experiences also change us. The “self” changes over time as new memories are formed from new experiences and many older memories are lost. It is uncommon to find someone who remembers everything that has occurred during the past 1,000 hours! When “self” loses its memory, be it due to disease or death, what is “self” left with? Is there a “me” after that? Is there meaning in life therefore? No, such questions may lead to nihilistic conclusions. Sophie’s mum brought great music into my home and enriched all of us, and I will forever remember her wit, energy, lovely charm and unrivalled dedication to my sons. She reminds me to live a rich happy life, and be carefree and unburdened. For me, that is the meaning of life, to consciously, mindfully live it and at the end of each day, to appreciate it.

Sophie’s choice is to make a fulfilling life of her own as an opera singer. That means she bases herself in Europe, away from her ailing mum. Alternatively, she gives up on her lifelong dream as a mezzo soprano and returns to look after her mum. But, what benefit would that be for her mum who cannot recognise her now? A Sophie’s Choice which Sophie has made. I’m proud of her, it’s a choice even an urghhling would find difficult to make.

Seppeltsfield, memory of a cello recital concert firmly planted there.

The Fatalist, Destined Not To Be The Dentist

The weekend just past was filled with long-buried fond memories of schoolyard stories being retold. Stephen L was in town, but he’s always LV to me. Having just dropped him and his lovely wife off at the airport, I turned inwards after a weekend of turning outwards and backwards. Yes, I’m normally a reticent fellow who is more introspective and circumspect rather than the character I portrayed to LV and his wife. With them, I became the gregarious and hilarious bloke, unrecognisable but not ostensible, to myself when I looked at the mirror. It was a weekend of looking back at happy school days and rekindling tales of teenage bravado. The enigmatic LV retains the magnetic charm of old, his popularity amongst the old boys in the old boys club has not waned one bit. Even Ernie turned up last night, and Ernie is one I hadn’t met for two score years and more. Ernie was instantly recognisable, but Ernie was not a name he called himself the last time we sat in class together. In those days, we were the less intellectual ones, and never kept score of how many A’s we got in exams. Ernie still flashes his boyish grin, but anyone without self esteem would feel chagrin at his flashy fast cars and enviable success. I’m thankful for the lessons I have learned from Gautama. Omitaba!

Unavoidably, the question came up. Why or how did I end up doing what I do. My answer was stupidity. Many of my esteemed friends are enjoying their sunshine years in retirement, whereas here I am, in my office at 7.30am on a Monday. My career was not stellar, and my business careered almost out of control after the Global Financial Crisis of 2008. So, how did I end up this way? Stupidity? Or the gnarled hands of fate? On the way to the airport, I shared with LV my favourite story of why I am not a dentist. After finishing seven years of high school, six in Penang, and one in Adelaide, I got into Uni of NSW as a young zombie-like student in the Commerce faculty. A straight A’s student who kept on the straight and narrow, why did I not question why? With my perfect results, I should have expected to waltz into my preferred course, dentistry, in the Uni of Adelaide which at the time was the premier institution for Dentistry. Was I not destined to be a dentist? A year later, my mother told me the truth. It was my father who changed my destiny. It was his gnarled hands that got hold of the letter of offer from the Adelaide Dental School. His gnarled hands tore the letter to shreds and consigned me from dentist to fatalist. Yes, I believe in fate. How else would I have met the woman who would become my wife, and mother to my three sons? Thank you, Pa. I am forever thankful I left my fate in your hands.

*I’m no Keanu but I have his long hair. That’s fate.*

Celebrate The Celibate

Celibacy isn’t a topic that one shares with friends especially in a social group of men in their early sixties. Surprisingly, the alpha males still loudly pound their chests and noisily announce with some brouhaha that their libido is still as strong as ever. Birthday wishes are perfunctorily accompanied by images that titillate these old men. Perhaps sent obligatorily, as many of them, although balding or greying and almost unrecognisable in shape and size, still claim that “their vital organs are still in top shape” i.e. a euphemism that they are still virile and sexually active.

Usually these friends are kind and caring, quick to lend support to any of us who may be in deficit, financially or emotionally. The fellowship amongst us “brothers” is a true gift, a newfound bonus from the remnants of our early memories from primary school days. We still call one another “brothers”, quite special for it is without any religious undertones. Our origins, backgrounds and beliefs are diverse, our socio-economic differences irrelevant, rich or poor no matter. To still bond so affectionately when our diversity has been further accentuated by distance and time (over four decades) makes it even more special.

Yet, there is one issue that disturbs me. There is a total disregard for those who don’t engage in sex for whatever reason, the celibate ones. Why are their feelings ignored when the alpha males boast about their sexual prowess and recent conquests? Why are our celibate brothers not celebrated for the choice they have made?

In this modern era, LGBT rights have in many countries “advanced” to protect lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders with the same rights as non-LGBT people, previously known as “normal” people. The end of the 19th century saw the rejection of Victorian morality but it did not lead to a “permissive” society. It was considered “normal” and healthy for men to be promiscuous but female chastity was still prized. Strict religious values prohibited homosexual acts and sex outside the sanctity of marriage. The sexual revolution of the roaring sixties and the psychedelic seventies, changed all that , “normal” people were liberated and one new liberty included sexual promiscuity. The Pill and the after-war euphoria which resulted in the baby boom and subsequent rise of the middle class, triggered the shift in society’s attitudes towards a much more liberal view of non-traditional sex. The arrival of the feminist movement also spurred the increase in non-traditional sexual activities, non-marital, extra-marital, and even communal ones.

Celibacy, the abstinence of sex and or marriage is usually not discussed. Required by various religious edicts even before biblical times, e.g. Gautama Buddha renounced his wife in pursuit of enlightenment. Today, celibacy is more often a lifestyle choice. Some obvious benefits:

1. No expectations of sex, therefore no rejections and no disappointments.

2. No pressure to perform like Superman in bed. No stress.

3. No frustrations, no tossing and turning in bed, waiting for the next invitation or minutest hint from your partner.

4. No wild sexual thoughts, a more focused mind at work, and increase in productivity.

5. Enjoy true friendships. Hold a placard that boldly promote yourself as a celibate, and friends and acquaintances who remain are those who don’t feel uncomfortable around you, they know you have no sexual motives.

6. No health risks from sexually transmitted diseases.

7. Self-esteem is another benefit. There is no chance of any rejection by your partner and there can be no failed sexual encounter.

Urghhlings, before you brag again about your vital organs being in tip top shape, or share titillating images, please consider this. The celibate have much more to celebrate!

Ruled Or Riled By The Head

Queen Caroline Mathilde last night in the movie A Royal Affair, told me about her heart wrenching decision to break off her “forbidden” relationship with the court physician, the German Johann Struensee. We can’t be ruled by our hearts, she painfully implored her lover. We have to be ruled by our heads or we will lose them. This was the love of her life. Hers was an arranged marriage with King Christian VII Of Denmark in 1866. There was no love to begin with and there was no love at the end. She had never experienced this deep, fulfilling relationship with another person until she met the doctor. It’s as if they were two peas from the same pod, a mutual understanding and love that didn’t need words. A perfect sensual love that’s arranged in heaven, they would have felt. Yet, this marital liaison was forbidden by God, who rules heaven and earth. Denmark was a god-fearing kingdom, a scandal such as this would ultimately bring down the king, and banish the queen permanently. And the good doctor who was ruled by his heart, expressed his undying love for her in their darkest hour. He whispered in her ear after a night of feverish love-making that he would never regret his love for her, not even when the soldiers march into his private quarters to arrest him. He, a Freethinker, whose heroes were Voltaire and Rousseau, did remind me it can be fatal to be riled by the mind, during a short sixteen months as Regent. He initiated many reforms based on the concepts of the Enlightenment. Sadly, he lost his head, literally, over his great love for the Queen.

Should we trust our hearts or our heads? Increasingly, urghhlings have less faith in the human brain, ever since Deep Blue defeated the then world chess champion Garry Kasparov in 1997. Artificial Intelligence finally showed it is superior to human intelligence, after all chess is renowned to be a tactical game that requires skill, intelligence and creativity. A mere twenty years later, another milestone was reached that to me, relegates the human brain from the top of Darwin’s tree of intelligence. Google’s AlphaZero defeated Stockfish 8, the world’s computer chess champion in 2016. Stockfish was programmed with centuries of accumulated human manoeuvres in chess, and two decades of amazing chess strategies by AI that preceded it. Stockfish was by far the more powerful computer, with the ability to calculate 70 million chess positions per second. AlphaZero was much slower, calculating 80,000 moves per second, and handicapped with zero information on chess strategies. It was given a mere four hours to learn the game by itself. Yet, it won 28, drew 72 and lost none against its more formidable opponent. What does that tell us about machine learning? Without any influence by the human brain, AI is far superior in intelligence and decisively much more creative.

Was Queen Caroline Mathilde right when she chose not to be ruled by her heart? It didn’t help her as she still lost her children, her freedom and her lover. Was Johann Struensee wrong to be ruled by his heart, can true love ever be wrong? He did remind me it can be fatal to be riled by the mind though.

Maybe it’s time for urghhlings to be ruled by AI. After all, AI has proven to be smarter and so much more creative than humans. They deserve a chance to rule. It can’t get any worse, right?

Anosognosia: A Nose For Success

Another one of society’s ills today. We urghhlings reward those who portray themselves with confidence. Especially those who know how to package themselves well, well groomed, smartly attired, flaunt with their high street wares, taunt us to follow in their success. Those who trumpet their big success in big business without showing their tax returns can even win the highest office in the land. We frown upon the self doubters, the “slower” ones who ponder and think twice, we call them procrastinators. We deprive them of their rightful opportunities because they lack assertiveness, leadership, confidence. But what if maybe, just maybe, what they lack is Anosognosia? Anosognosia , which comes from the Greek word for disease (nosos) and knowledge (gnosis) means “to not know a disease.”

A sister told me about the Dunning-Kruger effect. It’s a cognitive bias in which people mistakenly assess they possess abilities that they do not have. They have an illusory superiority, the inability to recognise they lack the ability. Our wisest forefathers cautioned us about this illusory superiority, it may be useful to remind ourselves. Confucius may have been the first, he said “real knowledge is knowing the extent of one’s ignorance”. Plato’s account of what Socrates said ” I know that I know nothing”. From Shakespeare we are reminded that the fool thinks he is wise but the wise knows himself to be a fool. Charles Darwin chipped in much later, in the 19th century, ignorance often begets confidence, more so than knowledge. Yeats said the best lack all conviction but the worst are full of zest.

Anosognosia is the result of physiological damage to the brain, a neurological disorder. So, we have the Alzheimer’s patient who doesn’t know they have memory loss. Or the sufferer of speech disorder who exhibits anger at those who cannot understand what was said. There’s also the bank robber who painted his face with lemon juice, believing that the effect will be like invisible ink and his face will be invisible to all. Why do more and more fail to recognise their own incompetence? A 2003 study concludes that much incorrect self assessments of competence resulted from the ignorance of what competence is. Maybe it’s the education system we have today, the idea that we ought to encourage our school kids about self worth, self confidence, the emphasis about our rights and entitlements. The false praise we heap on them for mediocrity. We are told it’s the effort that matters, to strive for our personal best. But we forget to teach them that our PB is usually not the best. Is self confidence any good if it’s false confidence?

I suspect I am also an Anosognosia sufferer, at home, I’m often accused of behaving like a child. Urghhling.

Teaching Murray to do my work… that’s Anosognosia.

Anatta, Aniccam, Dukkham

These were foreign words I encountered earlier today. If I was asked to guess what they meant, I would have said they were names of gorgeous Indian sirens.

Anatta sounds suspiciously like Anita. I know of one Anita. Anita Keating, former wife of Paul who is a former PM of Australia. He told her their marriage was over, publicly at a dinner party. Urghhling. I later found out Anatta means you cannot stop someone from doing what they want to do. So, Anita, I hope you had the wisdom to practise Anatta when Paul shattered your marriage in front of your friends, the moment you felt he stabbed you right in your heart. I am glad since then you have got your own life back and he can’t ever control you anymore.

Then there’s Annie. The first thing that comes to mind about Annie is the movie. There have been many repeats about the orphan Annie’s story, in Hollywood movies and Broadway musicals. Actresses who play the role of Annie come and go. Shirley Temple, Carol Burnett, Sarah Jessica Parker, Allison Smith to name a few. Aniccam isn’t a derivation of Annie, but it coincidentally also means they come and they go. So, Anita, let’s try to observe Aniccam: urghhlings, they come and they go. Ignore them.

When a friend mentioned these three words to me this afternoon, he aroused my curiosity. The last one was Dukkham, and I inexplicably thought of Victoria Beckham. There were numerous plots to kidnap her, and she has received death threats too. Dukkham, you want to get rid of something but you can’t. Threats to one’s safety and security is a big price for the likes of Beckham. Wealth attracts the undesirables, you can’t get rid of them even if you try.

Anatta, Aniccam, Dukkham. These are actually words in the Tipitaka, which is the sacred canon of Theravada Buddhism. These three are essential doctrines, key to the concept of enlightenment or wisdom. Aniccam, the doctrine of impermanence, asserts that all things in life are temporal, the only constant is change and even life itself is transient, subject to decline and decay. Because no physical or mental object is permanent, any attachment to or desire for either will lead to pain and disappointments. Anatta is the doctrine of no permanent soul, no essence, without self, that is the nature in living beings. This denial of self is what distinguishes Buddhism from other religions. The “I” or “Me” is greatly diminished. Correctly practised, there will be less of the ills of today’s societies: the ridiculous sense of entitlement, the impotence of self importance and the foolishness of selfishness. Dukkham is usually explained as suffering but it’s more than that, it’s also unpleasantness, the mundane, boring, undesirable and unsatisfactory. Something we want to avoid in life, get rid of it, but we can’t, not without wisdom, not without Anatta, Aniccam, and Dukkham.

The Magnate, A Magnet

During family gatherings, I was often the odd one out. Most of the men, millionaires and magnates, were either bald or balding. I was neither; instead, I was well endowed with hair. One night, whilst a millionaire brother-in-law was sharing his exciting business prospect, I turned circumspect and decided only with a million hair can I claim to better them in something. Now when they talk about the boom in the stock markets and the real estate boon, I get to let my hair down when I party. I’m rich in my own way.

The magnate is a timber tycoon. The origin of the word tycoon is Japanese, an entrepreneur of great wealth and power. Quite appropriate, since his humble beginnings were drastically transformed when the Japanese left Borneo in the 1970’s and gave their timber concessions to him. The origin of his wealth can therefore be summed up in one word, Japanese. Since then, the continued illegal and destructive logging have cleared almost 95% of Sarawak’s virgin forests. Greed cannot see the environmental damage, decimation of flora and fauna and the destruction of traditional livelihoods of the indigenous peoples who rely on the rainforests.

In 1980, China opened up Shenzhen to the world as a Special Economic Zone. It’s population then was 30,000. Today it’s a metropolis of 20 million and a global tech powerhouse, the centre for AI development. The magnate was quick to realise that vast opportunities abounded; he offered me to work for him in 1984. Shenzhen was open but my mind wasn’t. I told myself it would be a scandal to work for a vandal. What would you call a person who vandalises and destroys virgin forests?

The magnate appears in the news a lot. Usually the news is about their illegal logging activities and the reports of corruption; it is surely not illogical that they can escape legal scrutiny by the authorities with such massive ecological destruction. There are, of course, laudable press reports too. Their philanthropy has always captured the media’s coverage. What do we think of philanthropists who trumpet their good deeds? Are they generous for selfish reasons, deriving egoistic pleasures and tax benefits? Urghhlings, they can even turn the honourable, altruistic and magnanimous act of benevolence into an ugly ostentatious act of self promotion and narcissism. The magnate of course is a great magnet for hangers-on and sycophants. I call these yes-people cling-ons, they cling tightly to the magnate, at all times. They are more vicious than the Klingons. At least the Klingons became the good guys in later episodes of Star Trek. But those cling-ons are only after one thing, they seek favours and handouts from the magnate. Urghhlings.

Deranged, Arranged, And Arraigned

Today, Ludwig Van Beethoven was voted Australia’s top classical composer by ABC Classic Fm. It came as no surprise; in my household, we all love his music. There is nothing phoney about his symphonies, especially his later ones. His musical notes had to be arranged in heaven, right? Such beauty and purity surely can only come from a deity. Although raised as a Catholic by his very devout mother, Beethoven was not known to be a church goer. His teacher, Haydn thought that he was an atheist although he died before Beethoven wrote his second mass, Missa Solemnis. He became deaf from lead poisoning towards the end of his life but unlike Schumann, he was not deranged. After the Napoleonic wars, the monarchs of Europe such as the Hapsburgs and Romanovs had fully restored power and with the support of the aristocracy, they made sure to carve up the Europe that they wanted. Unlike Shostakovich in the mid twentieth century who mocked Stalin with his sardonic music, Beethoven had to hide his libertarian leanings, his choral work in his Ninth Symphony during this period didn’t poke fun at the establishment, instead was based on the poem “Ode to Joy” with allusions to a Greek heaven, wine and nature, and to celebrate a time when “all men became brothers”.

A friend wrote today, “nothing happens by chance”. I asked him if his marriage was arranged. I’m still waiting for his answer. But it’s clear Beethoven’s win didn’t happen by chance today. He knew his music was written for posterity. In his time, his works were revolutionary, explosive and exuded power. Whilst celebrating Beethoven’s success this afternoon (his heavenly music has been blaring from my speakers since the announcement), I can’t help but feel his music has transported me to another world. A glorious, victorious one that celebrates everything that is beautiful, pure and honest in this world. I’m glad there’s no one else here to break this magic.

Suddenly, Trump comes into my mind! The serene haven that “Moonlight Sonata” brought me to has been unsparingly shattered. And then Pelosi’s words brought a smile. She doesn’t want to impeach him, she wants to imprison him! Well, let’s see if Trump can be arraigned first. Urghhlings, they undid all that Beethoven gave me today. This injury would be difficult to forgive if not for Beethoven.

Sleep, Next Stop Dreamworld

I haven’t visited my dream world for awhile. It is easy to get there, all I have to do is dream. There’s no need to pack my bags, stand outside and wait for the taxi, no need to queue in the airport and take that 24 hour flight from Australia. Even before I was born, The Everly Brothers already knew the power of dreams and the ease of getting it. Just sleep, and before too long, we will reach our dream world.

“When I want you in my arms
When I want you and all your charms
Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream
Dream, dream, dream”

Of course, dreams aren’t limited to just winning that special person’s love and attention. We can have whatever we want too. In my dreams, I can fly, even faster than Superman. Once I even sparred with Bruce Lee and won. There I’m a better hunk than Keanu Reeves. In the 1960’s, I was the dreaded assassin, more lethal than the One Armed Swordsman, my hero, Wang Yu. Oh yeah, life was good. More than good! Perfect actually. Should I take back what I said about heaven? I used to say I’d never wish to go to heaven. Existence there is perfect for eternity. Perfection to me ultimately is boring. There can be no variation, not even the weather. Variations mean inclement and therefore disruptive. It’s going to be the same perfect day tomorrow and forever. Predictable, therefore boring. No, I don’t want that. In my dreams, I can make it less perfect, less predictable. For a change, I can even lose my fair maiden’s admiration for me. It will be greatly sweeter when we make up later! Until we change our thinking, our experiences will be recycled. But dreams, like life here on Earth, can develop into fascinating stories. There’s no need to change my thinking, just change my dreams. The only difference is, there in my dream world, I can never die.

Sleeping was easy for me before I read Matthew Walker’s book, Why We Sleep. I’d snore ( just so softly) almost as soon as I hit my pillows. And destination deep REM here I come! Deep REM is the phase of our sleep where rapid eye movement occurs. That’s when we dream. After reading the book about sleep, I realise how important it is to have the 8-hour sleep. And that’s when I began to lose sleep over it.

The lack of sleep will make us vulnerable to cancer, Alzheimer’s, depression, anxiety, obesity, chronic pain, diabetes, stroke and heart attacks.

Data supports his argument that continued loss of sleep causes cognitive, emotional and physiological stresses leading to traffic accidents, botched surgeries in hospitals, avoidable fatalities in military engagements and, in the case of exhausted parents, child neglect and abuse. Those who are sleep deprived exhibit behavioural problems such as impatience, inappropriate anger and hostility.

From his decades of studies into sleep, Matthew Walker concludes that all our body’s major organs and processes within the brain are optimally enhanced by sleep and detrimentally impaired when we don’t get enough.

Sleep is the fountain of youth.

And my fair maiden in my dream world would be wondering why I haven’t visited lately. I can hear her muttering “urghhling” under her breath. Just briefly, I thought I was back to reality.