Lizards and Rubberbands

A friend of mine, Rachel (name changed to protect ME), recently shared an interesting theory: Common House Geckos (Hemidactylus frenatus) are mysteriously attracted to rubber bands.

According to a series of experiments she conducted—and allegedly replicated by a Libyan scientific team– she has proven this claim.

Now, as much as I’d love to verify this firsthand, I currently have plenty of geckos in my home but not a single rubber band. So, in the interest of science, I present Rachel’s step-by-step guide so you can try it at home:

How to Test the Gecko-Rubber Band Theory

  1. Place a rubber band in a corner or any spot where geckos like to hang out.
  2. Memorize the location.
  3. Take a photograph (if you have a camera), and label it “Before.”
  4. No camera? No problem. Take a mental photograph (stare and blink real hard). Label it “Before” in your head.
  5. Go about your day for at least 12 hours.
  6. Return to the spot where you left the rubber band.
  7. Take another photograph (if you have a camera), and compare it to your “Before” shot.
  8. No camera? Again, stare and blink real hard, then compare it to your mental image.

The Expected Results

If Rachel’s theory holds, the rubber band will have mysteriously moved.

The Weirdest Part? This isn’t even the strangest claim.

Rachel also swears she has personally witnessed geckos using rubber bands as:

  • Hula hoops
  • Skipping ropes
  • Waist belts (for what must have been a very chonky gecko)

She even complains about the mess these geckos leave behind after their wild nights of rubber band revelry.

Bonus Gecko Fact:

Apparently, geckos also have a strong attraction to Spirulina.

So, if your rubber band experiment doesn’t yield the expected results, try again—this time, baiting them with Spirulina.

Because, you know, science.

The Oscars 2004

As an avid movie fan, I found this year’s Academy Awards particularly interesting.

For the first time ever, a fantasy film– The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the Kingshattered the long-standing glass ceiling that confined such films to technical categories like Sound Editing and Special Effects. Instead, it went all the way, clinching both Best Director and Best Picture.

Kudos to the happy Hobbits, elegant Elves, gruff-looking Dwarves, wise Wizards, and humble Humans who brought Middle-earth (or, as we call it in this dimension, New Zealand) to life. And, of course, massive credit to Peter Jackson, who– once a George Lucas-ian nobody– spent nearly a decade turning Tolkien’s highly revered (but let’s be honest, stupendously dense and slow-paced) tome into cinematic magic.

That said, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed that Bill Murray didn’t take home Best Actor for Lost in Translation. His performance was brilliant—subtle, melancholic, and deeply human. But at least the film didn’t go home empty-handed, with Sofia Coppola winning Best Original Screenplay.

As for her speech, let’s just say her on-stage aloofness was either due to a terminal case of bashfulness or she was still mentally recovering from her ill-fated role in The Godfather Part III.

Either way, not a bad night for film history.

Bush and Blair Backtracking But Insist That War Was Justified Nonetheless…

After months of chest-thumping declarations that weapons would be found, the two giants—the U.S. and the U.K.—have finally admitted that faulty intelligence was to blame. Yet, despite this admission, they continue to insist that invading Iraq was still the right thing to do.

The hunt for Iraq’s WMDs has produced nothing but hot air.

Just yesterday, CIA Director George Tenet stated that the agency never claimed Iraq was an “imminent threat.” This, of course, contradicts the relentless rhetoric leading up to the invasion, where the phrase “grave and gathering danger”was used like a drumbeat to justify war.

For those who still stand by Bush’s and Blair’s after-the-fact justifications, even though no weapons of mass destruction were ever found, I’ve heard a few common arguments—each more flawed than the last:

1. “We can’t really blame them. It was faulty intelligence.”

Wrong!

Hans Blix’s reports provided clear evidence that contradicted the intelligence used to justify war. Even more damning, we now know that neither the CIA nor MI6 had operatives on the ground in Iraq.

So why, then, were Blix’s findings ignored? Why did the march to war continue despite credible doubts?

2. “It’s okay because this was an international effort, and most of the world agreed with it.”

Not quite.

Mr. Bush, please remember that the world is bigger than just the Coalition of the Willing. Every time you claim “global support”, keep in mind that your coalition represented only 10% of the world’s population.

And even if the entire world had agreed, does that somehow make a modern-day lynching acceptable? Civilization should have evolved beyond that.

3. “Saddam had to go. He was evil. If we allowed him to stay in power, he would have become another Hitler.”

If that were truly the case, don’t you think Europeans—who actually suffered under Hitler– would have been the first to sound the alarm?

Yes, Saddam was a dictator, but he was also a has-been. He lacked a powerful army, he had no mass ideological following, and he was isolated even within the Arab and Muslim world. Unlike Hitler, he didn’t have the means to wage a global war, let alone defend himself when attacked.

4. “I don’t like Saddam’s face, and no matter what, I’m glad he’s gone—even if the war was based on false and unjustifiable reasons.”

Well, my friend, if that’s your argument, there’s probably no way to convince you of the magnitude of this wrongdoing.

But remember this: One day, Bush and Blair—or leaders like them—may use the same pretext to invade another country of their choosing.

Pray very hard that it’s not ours.

No Weapons Found In Iraq

Colin Powell has admitted to reporters flying with him that, well… there may not have been weapons of mass destruction in Iraq before the U.S. invasion.

And just like that, Powell’s grand pre-war Security Council presentation—packed with “proof” and “irrefutable evidence”—comes crashing down faster than a house of cards in a wind tunnel.

One can only imagine the hours spent meticulously crafting that PowerPoint masterpiece, not to mention the tireless efforts of the creative” intelligence team tasked with drawing connections between Iraq, WMDs, and Al-Qaeda—all of which resulted in a presentation fit for Hollywood. Specifically, the kind of Imminent-Threat-Coming-So-Hero-Briefs-The-Council-But-Council-Won’t-Listen scene we’ve seen a thousand times before.

We all remember those chilling moments when Powell, in his most serious trust me, I’m a credible statesman tone, presented “intercepted” Iraqi radio transmissions featuring faceless, evil Eye-Rack-EE commanders ordering their soldiers to hide weapons before the arrival of UN inspectors.

We were also shown grainy satellite images of what we were told were missiles, factories and makeshift WMD labs, lovingly annotated by intelligence analysts in a game of color-by-numbers for warmongers.

And now?

Turns out, all of it was built on lies, half-truths, and creative storytelling.

Adding insult to injury, David Kay, head of the Iraq Survey Group (the team tasked with actually finding these so-called WMDs), resigned—which, if we were in a movie, would be the part where the scientist dramatically removes his government badge and walks out.

As his parting shot, Kay flatly stated that there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

Amazingly, just days before, President Bush had quoted Kay’s report, cherry-picking and recontextualizing his words into the vague claim that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction program activities.

(What does that even mean? No one knows. But hey, it’s in the State of the Union address, so it must be true!).

And so, the infamous WMD “smoking gun” may turn out to be as real as a mirage in the Iraqi desert—except this one cost billions of dollars and thousands of lives.

Mid-Priced Speakers

With a specific mission to upgrade my existing system, my buddies and I set out on a quest to find the best speakers that money (or more specifically, around RM 8,000) can buy.

We tested several speakers that day but in the end, only two stood out — with one honorable mention: the KEF reference series, which, while very good, was way, way, way beyond my paltry budget (about 4 times beyond to be exact).

B&W Nautilus 805:

First, a note about the B&W showroom in MidValley. This shop is ONE of the BEST, if not THE BEST hi-fi shop in terms of size, variety (if you’re looking for B&Ws and Arcams), interior decoration and, oh yes, tastefully furnished and sonically superb listening rooms.

Now for the speaker:- the Nautilus 805 speaker is sweet!

We tested it with a generic fusion track, and the results were excellent. The highs were crisp, and the mid-range was crystal clear. Being a bookshelf speaker, the bass was slightly muted, but the low end was deep enough for most purposes. It was fast, with excellent transients.

However, there was one small issue—it was a little too sweet for my taste. Normally, I can handle bright speakers, but something about the Nautilus 805 felt incomplete. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it… until we tried the Harbeth.

Harbeth HL Compact 7ES-2:

Before I get into the Harbeth, let’s talk about the shop that sells them—Tropical Audio in Setapak.

This place is the polar opposite of the B&W showroom. Tucked between motorcycle repair shops, it looks completely unassuming from the outside. Upon entering, I was greeted by a shockingly modest listening “area”—which wasn’t really a room at all.

There, against the left wall, was an old rattan sofa, the kind that was popular in the early 1980s. On the right side, a lineup of speakers stood in a row, with an old, dusty Quad CD player and 606 amplifier in the middle. To top it off, I spotted a JBL subwoofer in the setup. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.

Then I saw them.

Three pairs of the ugliest speakers I had ever laid eyes on.

No fancy curves, no glossy finishes—just plain rectangular boxes.

Things got even worse when the shop owner’s wife inserted a Jacky Cheung CD into the player. At that moment, I nearly walked out.

Still, I decided to close my eyes and listen.

And then—pure magic.

The 7ES-2 came alive with tight, controlled bass that went surprisingly low for a half-floor-stander (though we had to convince the lady to turn off the JBL subwoofer, which was adding an artificial rumble to the setup). The highs were clean and natural.

But the real game-changer? The stereo imaging.

I could literally see Jacky Cheung standing in the middle of the room.

Wanting to test it further, I protested against Aaron Neville (which the lady tried to play next) and got her to switch to Telarc’s Happy Trails instead. Once again, the 7ES-2 delivered. I felt as if the orchestra was right there with me– I could almost pinch the red-haired oboist sitting to my right.

The Final Decision

Comparing both speakers, I finally understood what the Nautilus 805 lacked—it didn’t have the superb stereo imaging, clarity, and sheer musical passion of the 7ES-2.

And so, I had no choice but to abandon my personal favorite (though the B&W still looks undeniably sexy) and settle for a pair of boring-looking, yet sonically superior, Harbeth speakers.

Because in the end, it’s not about looks—it’s about the music.

In search of the perfect sound

Inspired by a visit to a friend’s place in Singapore—where I had the chance to experience vinyl on his hi-fi system—I decided to dive back into the world of perfect audio reproduction.

To be honest, I am a relapsed audiophile.

As a kid, I was always tinkering with audio systems, though I never had the resources to get anything truly high-end. My house started with an 8-track system, later replaced by an unbranded all-in-one cassette-tuner-amplifier and a pair of home-built speakers. On that modest setup, I grew up listening to The Beatles, ABBA, Bee Gees, Anne Murray, Art Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, Earth, Wind & Fire, Leo Sayer, Boney M, Beethoven, Mozart and Sam Hui. Given those musical influences, it’s no small wonder I turned out emotionally balanced and relatively normal. (Or did I?)

The Audiophile Awakening

The audiophile bug bit me when I stumbled upon an old Hi-Fi Annual from the now-defunct Asia Magazine at a Berita Bookstore warehouse sale. The magazine was filled with insightful articles on high-fidelity sound and reviews of top-tier audio systems of that year. One particular article claimed that every true audiophile’s dream is to recreate, as faithfully as possible, the experience of live music.

That got me thinking– I had never actually heard a live orchestral performance (aside from school recitals, which I don’t think really count). Determined to understand what “live” truly sounded like, I attended a classical music performance by a traveling youth orchestra. Even in the sonically challenged Dewan Tun Hussein Onn at PWTC, I was completely blown away.

It reminded me of that scene in Amadeus where Salieri first hears Mozart’s clarinet concerto—a moment of pure sonic seduction. The music transcended mere notes, becoming intangible ethers of absolute beauty, stirring emotions and soothing the soul. But at the same time, I felt a deep frustration—no matter how much I tinkered, my setup at home could never replicate that live sound.

The Struggle for High-Fidelity Sound

Lacking the financial means to upgrade my system, I survived on compact cassettes—though I had to stick a toothpick on the pinch roller of my tape deck to slow it down (because it played everything slightly too fast). FM radio became another go-to source for music.

Later, thanks to Bob, a fellow audiophile, I managed to get a mini-compo (a term that still gives me shivers), which—crucially—had a CD player. My very first CD? Enigma’s debut album. I played it over and over and over again, mesmerized by the hiss-free, crystal-clear sound.

Adding a CD player to my basic hi-fi system was a small step—perhaps just one out of a thousand—toward achieving live music realism. But it was a step that opened up an entirely new world of sound.

The Audiophile Cycle

But I digress. To cut a long story short, my passion for high-fidelity sound became cyclical.

At its peak, I had a Marantz CD-5000 CD player, a NAD C320 integrated amplifier, and Tannoy Mercury MX1 speakers. At its lowest point, I convinced myself that iPods sounded fantastically natural, and I swapped my Tannoy speakers for a pair of Audio Pro Focus SA-5 floor-standing AV speakers—mostly because they had booming low bass, much like (dread of all dreads) an Ah Beng’s car audio setup.

Next Stop: SACDs, DVD-Audio, and Vinyl