The Extension(s) of Human

Marshall McLuhan wrote in 1964 about Media as the extension of man. Media for McLuhan is not only newspapers, radio, and television. He defined media – or the singular word “medium” – in a broader sense which is “any extensions of ourselves”. I agree with this, in fact, I like his way of thinking!

Let’s start with a car which McLuhan mentioned in his book. Recently I started training to drive again (my target is to get a full UK driving licence before the end of 2009). Although I had been driving for ages and used to have my own Toyota Kijang roaming around the street of Jakarta, I need to have some kind of refresher’s course before I took my theory and driving test. Oh well, “Why not?” I thought.

I am glad that I took this four hours driving lesson. There are certain habits that I should change for the test. However, let’s not go through these technicalities. My point is, the minute I put my hands on the steering wheel, I feel the warm welcoming sensation of having this “extension” of me coming back. Back on the saddle after a good four years!


I realised how easily we take for granted technologies like car. Behind the wheel, I feel free as a bird, I feel like a pilot who just conquered the Earth’s gravity and soar through the sky. I suddenly gain speed, and my extended self is much bigger and less vulnerable than my own body walking down the street. The car is indeed my extension that enabled me to “reach farther” to the outside world.

Being “extended” by a car, our bodily coordination adjusts to gears, buttons, levers and our brain translates the red-amber-green colours into instruction to move or stop. It took only a split second for the brain to translate a stop sign into the movement of the right foot hitting the brake, the left foot pressing the clutch and the hand changing the gear. It is amazing!

Other technology that has become our extension (or at least mine) is the keyboard. People who type with all 10 fingers (yes, it’s actually eight fingers and two thumbs!), do not consciously aware where say the letter “X” is. The fingers just found it when it was needed as part of a word. When I have to type with one finger only – for example when I’m typing something at work while having my lunch at the same time – I would struggle finding the letters. However, as soon as my index fingers are on the letter “F” and “J”, then the rest is very quick and easy. It seems like my fingers know more than me!

Now the latest technology that amazes me is the iPhone. (If you wonder, the answer is yes! I just joined the 5.2 million users of iPhone in the world) For some good years I had been used to texting with my two thumbs. A mobile phone was just a phone with an additional text messaging feature for me. Only three years ago I refused to get a phone with camera, “A phone is a phone and a camera is a camera. Combining the two is just madness!” I used to say. Now that the era of smartphones are finally dawned on me, I am surprise to find myself reading my emails while doing “my business” in the Ladies Room. Magazines no longer accompanied me to the loo, it’s the iPhone!

The New Scientist (22 August 2009) quoted a scientist from Stanford University in Palo Alto, California, that “app-enabled phones could become the sole lens through which we view the world”. That sounds scary for me who cheered for John Henry in his race against the steam powered hammer! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Henry_(folklore) )

However, when my dear husband and I (we both claim to be a bit of a luddite) decided to get iPhones, we made a conscious decision (or so I thought) that it is time to join in with the rest of the technological world. I might be wrong, but I suspect at some point John Henry would learn to use the steam powered hammer for his benefit instead of kept on fighting the inevitable (use your brain to tame and utilise the powerful beast!)

Being able to check my emails while waiting on a bus stop (when there is free wifi available) is a brilliant novelty. The concept of text messaging and emailing is merging and becoming blurred with this little gadget. While some of my friends on facebook already familiar with updating their status through their mobile phones since probably last year, I am still amazed by how easy and handy it is!

Observing my own habit lately, I guess The Gravity Tank survey (quoted by the New Scientist as mentioned above) quite right to say that app (iPhone) users spend about 25 per cent less time using the more conventional media.

Another brilliant thing that my husband showed me is the stop watch and counter. When I swim, he used to count my time and lengths with an old fashion counter and watch (well, the watch was on his old fashion mobile). Now with his new sexy phone (yes, that’s how he calls his iPhone!), he could just start the stop watch and hit the laps button every time I finish one length. Wow….!

Though the new opening world looks unlimited and I am still finding new things (oh, we can listen to an Indonesian radio station in the comfort of our flat in Manchester!), I am starting to think about the limit. Where should we draw the line on this new technology that is creeping inside our everyday world? I am still apprehensive in browsing the app store, as I don’t want to get into the habit of downloading anything that I could live without (I have this life principle that I got from Disney’s “Jungle Book” as sung by the big Baloo bear, “Look for the bare necessity the simple bare necessity of life…If you can live without and then go along not thinking about it!”)

We do enjoy having extensions to ourselves. These technologies took me to a whole new world. I am not sure how I could live away from the fast UK broadband internet (and now, from wifi where I could download my emails into my phone). I am also pretty certain that no one could type on an old fashion type writer anymore (computer keyboard are so light compare to those!). I feel like singing this Aladdin’s song, “A whole new world… I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be.”

However the last question is how far we want to be extended and where is the boundary between us and our extensions? After all, I would still like to think that I am in control of the technology on my hand and not the other way around. But.. am I?

comment from my mum on my latest blog "Proposal for A New House Rule"

and i've learned that from your father, Ade ... from where i came from, thank you is a rare word and a hug is a nonsense ... but marrying your Dad i a real blessing ... though at the beginning i found it funny that he kept saying "thank you darling" for trivial things i do for him, i soon adapted to the joy and warmth of this simple gesture ... i've learned it, and so have you and your sister ... and so i hope we can share this with others ... thank you for bringing this up, De

Proposal for A New House Rule

It is so easy to criticise a bad job. There is even a song about this, “He never washed up, never cleaned up…” I wonder if there is any song about a job well done.

We tend to take for granted jobs well done. At the office, when a colleague made a mistake, we would point it out immediately. Yes, it is necessary sometimes for the sake of learning. However, when someone did a good job or learned a new skill quickly and handled a problem promptly, we rarely remember to praise him/her.

Same thing at home. When the sink is all dirty or when no one took the initiative to wash up, we would moan. “Oh, could someone (not me) do the dishes please?!” But when one member of the family made the proactive decision to wash up without being asked, no one say “Well done” nor “Thank you”. Are we being fair?

I propose, therefore, a New House Rule. Firs of all, the principles. We need to change our habit of thinking “That’s not my responsibility!” Everything is part of our responsibility! For example washing the dishes I used for eating and all the utensils I used for cooking. It is actually MY responsibility. So, if my partner or my son ended up washing them, I should feel grateful and say thank you.

Ironing my own clothes is my responsibility. However from time to time, a nice partner or parent would iron it for me. Therefore, I feel really grateful and would say, “That was really nice of you, you did not have to that... Thank you very much for ironing my skirt.”

I cannot fix a car – nor does my mum and I suspect many other women too – so should I have a car and something is wrong with it, I would ask my husband to look at it. The fact that I cannot do it, does not make it automatically his responsibility. So, if he help me fixing the car, I would be very grateful and say, “Thank you honey, you are so handy!” (I should also praise him for being able to do a complicated mechanical job)

Unlike most household in Asia where hiring a maid or servant is common, no one is paid for doing household chores here in the West. Everything is everyone’s responsibility. Therefore, we really should be grateful when other member of the family contributed to the up keeping of the house.

I think it does not matter who is doing the most chores and who does the least. We all need to be grateful and show our appreciation for others who do something.

My mum and dad told me a very good lesson. They always say thank you to each other for every little thing – and then they’d give each other a hug. It was always pleasant in their household. My mum taught me that saying thank you is easy and painless. Saying thank you is like smiling. It does not cost you, but it would make a whole lot difference to others in the receiving end. All we need to do is getting into the habit.

Therefore, here is my proposal for a New House Rule:

1. Do not assume that something is not your responsibility. Everything is!
2. Always acknowledge if you noticed something nice has been done.
3. And then say “Thank you darling” for the person who has done that.
4. As Bambi’s mum taught all of us, “When you cannot say anything nice, do not say anything at all…!!”

I hope this proposal would be adapted in many households and we will all feel appreciated and happier….

MOANING

I think it is true that it takes less time to act – right the wrong and do something about your problem – than to moan. However, I suspect some people just love to moan.

A woman in the Ladies room moaned. She looked at two cubicles, and said, “Why is it that people did not flush properly?” I had looked at them before she entered the Ladies and there are some tissues unflushed in the bowls. That’s it. It’s nothing like public toilets in Jakarta that requires some skill of blocking your nose - and eyes- while doing your business.

I said to her, “Why don’t you just flush them? They are not really dirty, just some tissues in the bowls.” Then she started the whole art of moaning. “Yeah, but if I flush before, then there won’t be enough water for myself to flush… bla…bla… bla..” I did not reply, just walked to the two cubicles and flushed the toilets. Job done in two seconds. She stopped moaning and my ears stop hurting.

That was one short moan.

I have heard a lot more annoying moan. The episode would last from 30 minutes up to four hours, as long as we let them talk. “My life is a mess, my children are rubbish, my house looks like what’s left of The Titanic, my job is shit, I’m depressed.” Now that is one serious moan. The sad fact is, there are so many serious moaners like this among us earthlings.

This one requires a whole week course on SWOT (strength weakness opportunity threat) analysis and another month course on personal management. Reading 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey would be a good start. Although for a serious moaner like this, the full expensive course run by Covey’s licensed company might still be useless.

I suspect serious moaners are moaning just for the sake of it. They like to get attention and to make other people responsible for their own problems. They like to repeat. Something like, “Oh Dear, you cannot believe how stressful I am. I have to work everyday, and then clean up the house. My teenage children do not help at all. Then I have to cook and feed them, not that they cannot prepare their own dinner. It's always me who have to do everthing. I am so stressed.”

Listening to this, we can only nod. And then he/she will start the next paragraph which contain the exact same problem, “Oh, I am so stressful. Someone need to tell my children that they have to help out at home. I am the only one who work. They just stay home all day making mess, they do not clean up, they do not was up. Oh dear, I am so stressful, my doctor prescribed me a lot of anti depressant but they do not help.”

These types of serious moaners are usually adults – over 30s – who we expect to be mature. What worse is, when the moaners are parents. I really don’t understand some human beings. We were born with instinct just like birds and monkeys. We have natural instinct to survive, to help our children fledge their nests, we have simple logic to solve problems.

For serious heavy weight moaners, life is about themselves. Every single problem is there to add misery to their lives. They do not watch the news, because the news will show them that others have more serious problems than themselves. Serious moaners thinks the universe evolve around her/him.

Let’s analyse the example above. This moaner complaint on having to work everyday. Anything extra ordinary about having to work? I don’t think so. So the job is shit. Has she/he tried to apply for another job? Has she/he ever think that maybe it’s her/his own attitude that’s shit? Then her/his children are not helping at home. Well, did this moaner parent ask them – or give them order – to do the dishes and to clean up the house?

The next question is who brought them up and educated them from baby to teenagers? Did she/he teach them how to make up their own bed, wash up the dishes, iron their own clothes? Does she/he think they can do the house chores automatically when they are over 16 without being taught how to?

I really cannot understand serious moaners like this. So everyone has to work. Every parent has to deal with the mess kids left. But then, every parent has the responsibility to teach the children how to clean up their mess!

Ha! Now I am the moaner!

But I do have an action plan on how to deal with moaners. And more, my “hot to deal with moaners” formula have been tested several times. It works for me.

For light weight moaners like the lady with the unflushed toilet, just show her/him the simple action to fix the problem. Then say, “There you go. No problem now, nothing to moan about. Bye!”

As for heavy weight moaners who claimed to have a shit life, well.. I could only say, “Have you DONE this? Did you DO that? Why not? Why not try…” And then if all advice did not work, just write about it, do the written moaning like a diary.

Phew…. It’s good to do a written a moan! Enjoy your day, your hour, your minutes, your seconds. Because for every single problem that you have, there is someone out there having ten times bigger problem than you…!

Mother’s Creed

I had a long chat with 12-year-old son today. About life. About his futures. About values and belief. I told him I want him to be a good human who works hard not just for himself but for others. I told him that I don’t want him to work just for money – for money will come when you work hard. I want him to find something that would make him happy. I want him to be independent, but my door and arms will always be open for him.

This creed I wrote is my belief. This is my expectation for myself – as a mother. I have seen too many parents who need a parenting order from the Court, or parents who spoilt and push their children to make money – but forgot to tell them to pursue happiness and the greater good.

Mother’s Creed

Mothers (and fathers) are the provider of love and education to prepare their children to face the world

A mum’s door and arms will always open for her children – no matter how old they are
A mum wants her children to be independent, to earn their own living once they’re 18
But wherever she lives, her house is always a home for her children

A mum will support her children to pursue their dreams
She will give them a little push and a hub when they are weary or down

Mother’s love is forever unconditional
Her arms are always open for her children no matter how old they are

Mum would tell off her children when they are naughty
She would say, “I hate your behaviour but I never stop loving you.”
Mum might punish her children – grounded them, washed their mouth with soap or bird eye chilli when they said bad words, took their toys away
But mum will always give reason behind punishment, lesson for the future
And mum will never forget to tell her children that she loves them no matter what – and she shows this in her actions

A good mum wants her children to be happy – whatever their choices are
She would never push her children to work just for money
She would support her children to find a job that will satisfy their hearts
An idealist mum wants her children to pursue something higher than themselves
She would ask her children to help others in whatever they do – whatever occupation they may have in live

A Mother is the House Manager
She keeps the house clean and tidy, able to make do and mend
She delegates the tasks when she is busy
She teaches her children (girl AND boy) to iron their clothes, to stitch buttons, to cook
She will make sure that her children will survive the daily tasks when she’s not around

For religious people, a mother is the projection of God’s unconditional Love
Her calling in life is to make sure that her next generation will do good in this messed up world

"Welcome to the Black Parade"

This song by My Chemical Romance keeps on playing in my head. "When I was a young boy (I felt like a boy then), my father took me into the city to see a marching band...." The phantom that i inherit from him, his dreams his fights and his struggle... It brings flash backs of people who are no longer here on Earth. Flash backs of defining moments in my life, of struggle and fight, of defeat and tears. And after all the tears, life will go on and I shall carry on.

"Welcome to the Black Parade"

When I was a young boy,

My father took me into the city

To see a marching band.

He said, "Son when you grow up,

would you be the saviour of the broken,

the beaten and the damned?"

He said "Will you defeat them,

your demons, and all the non-believers,

the plans that they have made?"

"Because one day I'll leave you,

A phantom to lead you in the summer,

To join The Black Parade."

When I was a young boy,

My father took me into the city

To see a marching band.

He said, "Son when you grow up,

would you be the saviour of the broken,

the beaten and the damned?"

Sometimes I get the feeling she's watching over me.

And other times I feel like I should go.

And through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets.

And when you're gone we want you all to know.

We'll carry on,

We'll carry on

And though you're dead and gone believe me

Your memory will carry on

We'll carry on

And in my heart I can't contain it

The anthem won't explain it.

A world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams

Your misery and hate will kill us all.

So paint it black and take it back

Let's shout it loud and clear

Defiant to the end we hear the call

To carry on

We'll carry on

And though you're dead and gone believe me

Your memory will carry on

We'll carry on

And though you're broken and defeated

Your weary widow marches

On and on we carry through the fears

Ooh oh ohhhh

Disappointed faces of your peers

Ooh oh ohhhh

Take a look at me cause I could not care at all

Do or die, you'll never make me

Because the world will never take my heart

Go and try, you'll never break me

We want it all, we wanna play this part

I won't explain or say I'm sorry

I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar

Give a cheer for all the broken

Listen here, because it's who we are

I'm just a man, I'm not a hero

Just a boy, who had to sing this song

I'm just a man, I'm not a hero

I! don't! care!

We'll carry on

We'll carry on

And though you're dead and gone believe me

Your memory will carry on

We'll carry on

And though you're broken and defeated

Your weary widow marches on

Do or die, you'll never make me

Because the world will never take my heart

Go and try, you'll never break me

We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on)

Do or die, you'll never make me (We'll carry on)

Because the world will never take my heart (We'll carry on)

Go and try, you'll never break me (We'll carry)

We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on)