You know what I like about blogging? If you are left wing, you virtually(hah!) can't do anything wrong. Look at Mr Brown and Mr Miyagi.

Mr Brown wrote the equivalent of a opposition party rally speech as a column and somehow managed to get it printed in Today newspaper. The government gave him a firm scolding and Today sent him packing.

Mr Miyagi - upset that Mr Brown was sacked - resigned.

Now both are held up like martyrs by the bloggers - as ultimate proof that blogs are all about freedom, truth and justice for all, while the government and newspapers and television are for censorship, oppression and baby killing.

On some level, they may be right. But I think because of the overly self-important way the blogosphere has carried itself, only bloggers will ever believe that.

I mean, one guy actually wrote this of Mr Miyagi's resignation "I personally view that your move will sight you closer in line with other regional pro-democracy figures".

Granted , resigning because your friend got sacked (rightly or wrongly) is a nice brotherly thing to do. Still it doesn't make him Aung Sang Suu Kyi. We really need to get a grip of just where we stand in the big picture. As yet, blogs do not have credibility of the mainstream - and if we continue to blindly self-congratulate and make martyrs out of people who write childish columns or resign from part-time jobs, how will we be taken seriously by non-bloggers?

Let's face it. Mr Brown's column should have never been published. It was neither funny, entertaining nor informative. It's just about 800 words of whining about price hikes and means testing, couched in supposedly humorous prose. If it was meant as an all out attack on government policy, it didn't go far enough. If it was meant as a humour column, it went too far.

He is right about the timing of the hikes, but wrong to blame the government for it. Fare increases were inevitable, that all of it comes after the elections is not a coincidence. Focus on the curious timing and Bhavani might not have so easily brushed him off with a "blaming the Government for all that he is unhappy with" defense.

The way the column was written, it could have easily been taken and flipped around to demonstrate that bloggers are nothing but unreasonable anti-government hacks. They instead chose to come down hard with a letter worded such that anyone who reads it becomes instantly angry with the government.

We can count ourselves lucky that the government - in the face of a petulant attack - chose to respond by being even more petulant.

The government shouldn't have responded the way they did. Mr Brown shouldn't have written the column, Today shouldn't have published it and Mr Miyagi..... well, I don't really see that he has anything to do with this.

Well, neither do I for that matter.

By Teo Cheng Wee of The Straits Times

THE World Cup is back after four long years and there’s nothing guys look forward to more than kicking back with a couple of beers and enjoying the game.

There’s just one problem: We need to tune out the cackle of women in the background first.

I don’t know why, but women just can’t leave men alone to enjoy the Beautiful Game. If they’re not whining about how we’re ignoring them, they’re trying unsuccessfully to watch the game with us. Those girls from the Netherlands take the cake. The Women for Football-free Netherlands — I kid you not — want to kick out the World Cup and even have a website (www.wegmet hetwk.nl) lobbying for this daft idea. They said: “All our guys are glued to the TV, forgetting about us and everything else. They think that women don’t understand the game and are only good to serve beer and snacks.” Get a grip on reality, girls.

First of all, the World Cup happens once in four years and it lasts for a month. Women’s shopping happens once in four days and it lasts forever. So cut us guys some slack.

And we don’t “think that women don’t understand the game”. We know it. The way I see it, knowledge of football among women can be broken down like this:

70 per cent know nothing. They can’t tell Michael Owen from Owen Wilson.
15 per cent know something. They can tell Michael Owen from Owen Wilson, but only because they think both are “cute”.
10 per cent think they know something. They can tell you that Michael Owen is an English striker and will try to recite a few statistics. But does he fit into England’s formation and should he play as a lone striker against Sweden? “Uh… don’t know.”
5 per cent know everything. But they don’t know who Owen Wilson is. (He’s a Hollywood actor, lah.)

I’m fine with women who don’t understand football. Men don’t care about the latest mascara either. The two genders are engineered differently, the Great Singapore Sale is on, let’s just do our own thing for a month.

For the women who just watch the game for the guys, well, that’s okay, too — us guys can’t take our eyes off the bikini-clad Brazilian women at the stadiums either. Just don’t gush too much about how you want to rip Raul’s clothes off and run your hands down his abs — a girl waxed lyrical about that to me once and I still feel unwell.

In my book, the biggest sinners are the 10 per cent of women who pretend they know the game. I’m sorry, but to paraphrase a credit card ad, when it comes to football, the women just don’t get it. I’m not alone. A football-crazy friend of mine once said he “just can’t take women seriously” when they try to talk about the sport. “They look like they memorised some facts and statistics to impress the guys,” he told me disapprovingly.

You see, men watch football for fun. But women who think they know football watch it to be one of the cool girls who can hang out with the fellows at the bar. There’s nothing more irritating than having to engage a woman on a football topic when it’s obvious she doesn’t know her stuff — but thinks she does.

One of the most painful conversations I ever had was with a girl who was so excited about seeing Ryan Giggs at the World Cup, she forgot his team didn’t even qualify. Yet you’re obliged to talk about football because when a woman says she’s a football fan, it’s like she just revealed that she’s a porn star — you can’t move on to another topic.

For all you female fan-wannabes, here’s a tip: If you keep screaming at a football match, you lose all your credibility. I was at a sports lounge last Saturday when a 10-strong group of men and women strutted in for the England-Paraguay game, putting on their best “cool” look. That, by the way, was the most boring match of the tournament so far. England had less chance of scoring than Ronaldo fitting into size 30 pants. Yet the girls thought it necessary to scream at every nondescript chance that fell England’s way. The first shriek was amusing, but the fifth, sixth and seventh were not.

The problem with women who think they know football is that most of them can’t — and never will — be able to engage the men because, crucially, they don’t play football. That makes it near-impossible for them to understand the subtleties of the game. How many times have guys had to explain something like this: Yes, you can’t believe that striker missed the goal from 5m out. But the ball was bobbling at shin height and he needed to hit it on the half-volley because the defenders were closing in on him, and that’s not easy. Don’t get it? I didn’t think so. If you haven’t actually kicked the ball, you won’t know.

And, sorry, I don’t see why I have to explain stuff like this at every game to a supposed fan. And you wonder why most sports journalists, match commentators and football pundits are guys.

Remember, ladies: It’s not a badge of honour. It’s a bloody game. Enjoy it at your own level if you can’t enjoy it like the guys. Just don’t spoil it for the men.

I am - believe it or not - a duck. To be specific, I am a duck that wears shoes. Of course you ask how a duck can type with the webbed feet. Shows how much you know.