第一個, 留給我倆邂逅回憶, 與政論滿吐嘅網友
第二個, 最短暫但確最個人嘅部落
第三個, 選擇低調與普通
所有都係那麼美好的
自分第三個部落
BYE.
2010年5月6日星期四
2010年5月1日星期六
2010年4月25日星期日
點心
喺大馬,出名嘅點心樓唔少
富山,龍鳳廳,米文,大家城,等,各自都獨當一面
靈市Eastin酒店裡有家名為[頤]嘅中式餐廳自分覺得非常唔錯
其特別之處在於
侍應會為客人點完想食嘅點心後,廚師先擺落蒸籠度蒸熟,
確保道道點心都熱騰騰先上桌
點心
除一般嘅蝦蛟燒賣,腸粉叉包.糯米雞外
自分反而想推薦嘅係其炒籮白糕.
當然
仲有本店大廚''文少''自創嘅太極兩儀露
太極兩儀露係採用芒果同牛油果過製成嘅甜點
絕對係非點不可.
Eastin Hotel
13, Section 16/11
Jalan Damansara, 46350
Petaling Jaya, Selangor, Malaysia.
03-76651111
富山,龍鳳廳,米文,大家城,等,各自都獨當一面
靈市Eastin酒店裡有家名為[頤]嘅中式餐廳自分覺得非常唔錯
其特別之處在於
侍應會為客人點完想食嘅點心後,廚師先擺落蒸籠度蒸熟,
確保道道點心都熱騰騰先上桌
點心
除一般嘅蝦蛟燒賣,腸粉叉包.糯米雞外
自分反而想推薦嘅係其炒籮白糕.
當然
仲有本店大廚''文少''自創嘅太極兩儀露
太極兩儀露係採用芒果同牛油果過製成嘅甜點
絕對係非點不可.
Eastin Hotel
13, Section 16/11
Jalan Damansara, 46350
Petaling Jaya, Selangor, Malaysia.
03-76651111
2010年4月24日星期六
2010年4月20日星期二
2010年4月19日星期一
2010年4月12日星期一
2010年4月7日星期三
一舊水
最近
檳州政府发放乐龄回馈金俾年老者.
有人讚,有人彈,更有人話此做法猶如羞辱老人家,話啲老人只值區區1舊水(RM100)
我喺一個網上民意調查, 睇到一位名為黃林希嘅如此留言,在此分享:
*****
一年前妈妈在新加坡听朋友说槟州政府将发放乐龄回馈金给合格的乐龄人。
妈妈就兴致勃勃的从新回槟，只为了登记，到时就可领取乐龄回馈金，
妈妈身上不缺钱，她也不是一个贪小便宜的人，我们想不通为什么老妈子会为了那区区几百元而抛下她疼爱的孙女回槟登记。
（当时谣传回馈金是三千元，我们推测最多是三百元）
妈妈说区区几百元对她来说虽然是不足为道，可他的新加坡朋友就这么对她说：
在Chua Chu Kang卖蛋的陈老伯说“你们的槟州民联政府是在肯定你们多年默默的付出和贡献，才会发放回馈金，
为何不拿？为何不肯定自己的付出和贡献？“
更何况这些都是你们纳税人的血汗钱，
在你拿钱的时候，你同时也在肯定他们的“hard work“
住在Jurong的Aunty Lucy说：“You have been contributed to your country, to Penang state for so many years, it’s time to take, even though is just One Ringgit.”
妈妈新加坡的邻居李先生说“你们的槟州首席部长林冠英一直都在用心的把槟城搞好，就由你们这些乐龄人去肯定他们吧“
妈妈听了觉得很有道理和感到有一点儿自豪，
因为她的新加坡朋友们都在赞扬我们的槟州首席部长。
槟州人民的勇敢，也让我身为槟州子民而感到非常的骄傲。
只可惜我心爱的妈妈已在去年十月车祸意外逝世，
从此永远也拿不到那“温馨“的一百元了.....
*****
檳州政府发放乐龄回馈金俾年老者.
有人讚,有人彈,更有人話此做法猶如羞辱老人家,話啲老人只值區區1舊水(RM100)
我喺一個網上民意調查, 睇到一位名為黃林希嘅如此留言,在此分享:
*****
一年前妈妈在新加坡听朋友说槟州政府将发放乐龄回馈金给合格的乐龄人。
妈妈就兴致勃勃的从新回槟，只为了登记，到时就可领取乐龄回馈金，
妈妈身上不缺钱，她也不是一个贪小便宜的人，我们想不通为什么老妈子会为了那区区几百元而抛下她疼爱的孙女回槟登记。
（当时谣传回馈金是三千元，我们推测最多是三百元）
妈妈说区区几百元对她来说虽然是不足为道，可他的新加坡朋友就这么对她说：
在Chua Chu Kang卖蛋的陈老伯说“你们的槟州民联政府是在肯定你们多年默默的付出和贡献，才会发放回馈金，
为何不拿？为何不肯定自己的付出和贡献？“
更何况这些都是你们纳税人的血汗钱，
在你拿钱的时候，你同时也在肯定他们的“hard work“
住在Jurong的Aunty Lucy说：“You have been contributed to your country, to Penang state for so many years, it’s time to take, even though is just One Ringgit.”
妈妈新加坡的邻居李先生说“你们的槟州首席部长林冠英一直都在用心的把槟城搞好，就由你们这些乐龄人去肯定他们吧“
妈妈听了觉得很有道理和感到有一点儿自豪，
因为她的新加坡朋友们都在赞扬我们的槟州首席部长。
槟州人民的勇敢，也让我身为槟州子民而感到非常的骄傲。
只可惜我心爱的妈妈已在去年十月车祸意外逝世，
从此永远也拿不到那“温馨“的一百元了.....
*****
2010年4月5日星期一
2010年4月4日星期日
2010年4月3日星期六
2010年3月30日星期二
I have a dream
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."¹
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."2
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!
By: Martin Luther King.Jr
*載自American Rhetoric
*馬來西亞,可能嗎?
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."¹
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."2
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!
By: Martin Luther King.Jr
*載自American Rhetoric
*馬來西亞,可能嗎?
2010年3月28日星期日
2010年3月24日星期三
2010年3月23日星期二
2010年3月22日星期一
2010年3月21日星期日
2010年3月19日星期五
2010年3月13日星期六
2010年3月10日星期三
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