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Simplicity

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Simplicity

My birthday has ended for a while now, as some of you may already know, and I was at the bus stop today when I bumped into Jody. Before I go into that, can I just say that the new module seems like it is going to be impossible to deal with? I know how it is when you first get the course outline, everything seems to be overwhelming at first. It is a false perception, because you are getting the entire semester at a glance, all at once. It is an inevitable feeling with most of the other modules, but this one seems very different. We have exactly five weeks to finish the entire module this time, and we have twelve chapters to complete, along with a written report and a half an hour presentation - it is insane. I swear, I don't think the lecturer has taught a full course in such a short period of time before, and she obvious has no idea what she is in for this time around. You seriously don't try to stuff everything into a five week summer semester and expect yourself to be able to cope with it, much less the students. I have no idea if I am going to pull through this time truth be told, and half of my mind is thinking about dropping this module altogether. The deadline is tomorrow, but I don't suppose I will be, since groups have already been formed. The first day of the class and I am already stressed out of my mind.

Anyway, after class today, I made my way to the bus stop and met Jody there who was on her way to meet some friends (she is always on her way to meet some friends, it seems). So we talked a little bit, and she remembered that my birthday was yesterday, and she started asking me what I did for my birthday and stuff like that. I told her about it, and she seemed somewhat surprised that I didn't do anything more than what I have already done. It seems like not doing anything extravagant is somewhat abnormal, and that getting piss drunk is the thing to do on your birthday. She asked if I went for a movie with my girlfriend, and in my mind I was just thinking what kind of a couple would spend a birthday together watching a movie. I mean, I'd much rather sit and talk with my partner for two hours than to spend the same amount of time just staring at a giant screen. Besides, it's not like there is anything in the theaters right now that is worth my money anyway, which is frustrating. Singapore never imports anything worth the ticket price for me, but those movies that are supposed to be "bankable". I can bet with you that 500 Days of Summer is not going to come anytime soon.

Anyway, the day of my birthday kinda started out like any other for the most part. As mentioned in the previous entry, it started out with that horrendous mid-terms paper that I really do not want to get back, nor discuss it with my friends at all. After that was my trip home and the effort of trying to catch up on blogging, something which I have been missing out on for the past couple of days. Anyway, I knew Neptina was going to come over to my place, but then I didn't exactly know when. Her classes end a little later than my own on Mondays, and I wasn't sure when she'd drop by as promised. So I kinda waited for her while I did my own thing at home, and she called at about three-thirty in the afternoon, saying that she was outside my front door. She does that a lot, so I approached the door with my guards down for the most part, and completely unassuming. I opened it, and there she was with a little tray and candles flickering in her face. I totally did not see that coming, and it was even more awesome that she managed to form the letter "W" on an eclair! Eclairs are like my secret guilty pleasure of sorts, and I am disappointed that so many parties that I have been to seldom ever caters eclairs. Anyway, instead of chocolate, it was coated in caramel this time, and I made a wish and blew the candles right on my doorstep, half thinking to myself if it'd trigger some kinda smoke detector somewhere.

The truth is that I am not the kind of guy who'd want to hit a club on my birthday, or to be carried home by my buddies at the end of the night. I suppose it is nice to do that, but then there isn't a written rule anywhere to tell us what to do on our own birthdays, you know. I suppose people would expect you to want to hang lose, go out, get crazy. I think that is what others do, what some of my friends would like to do on their own birthdays. To me, however, birthdays aren't something actually worth celebrating about, unless you are ninety years old, and every year seems like a kind of miniature miracle or something like that. But I am not even a quarter of my way there yet, and birthdays to me feel like just another day. I don't need a special day in the year to want to hang out with my friends, to be good to myself, to make wishes, you know. I can do that anytime that I want, and the same goes with anniversaries and stuff like that. I don't like the idea of having this one day in the year when you have to do something, when it really should be done any time. So, birthdays, not a big fan of it, and I don't celebrate it. Still, a little fine dining for example, that won't exactly be a problem at all. So I was glad that Neptina came over yesterday and gave me that little surprise. I dislike surprises in general, but that one took my breath away.

The great thing about her and I, I feel, is the understanding of simplicity. I honestly think that if I were to share my perfect day with other girls, they'd probably not want to include my name in their cellphone contacts. My perfect date, so to speak, isn't exactly the kind of conventional dates that people would think about. Some would probably like a trip up the ferris wheel, or a romantic night out at the beach, or something like that. It's not that I don't like such a thing, but it's just that I don't see the significance of the location as compared to the quality of the company, you know. I just feel that if you are with the right person, then anywhere you go is going to be as perfect as it gets. Anyway, my perfect date is probably as simple as "a day spent with my loved one", or something like that. But it's true, because that is exactly the kind of simplicity that I crave for, you know. The great thing about Neptina is that she complements this idea perfectly, agreeing with me on that count and then fitting into the minimalist picture so perfectly. She isn't one for extravagance, and asks only for the simple little things in a relationships. We shared the day together, and I felt that that was probably the best birthday ever. It's boring to some, but it was my birthday.

I like how she has the ability to watch me sleep. I mean, if I can separate myself from my physical body, I wouldn't be able to watch myself sleep. I can picture the twisted lips and the hint of drool in the corner, and then the eyeballs rolling underneath my eyelids. Simply put, it isn't a sight I can look at for a long time, but apparently she can. I slept a little bit while she was over yesterday, and she confessed to be able to watch me sleep for some reason. She likes the feeling of my eyelashes against her cheeks, and the way my lower lips droop over the edges. Or the way I would play the guitar from behind her back and stuff like that - the little things. I suppose when it comes to relationships, you know, your partner really should be the one making it simpler for you in life, and not more complicated. In the past, it seems to be normal for my life to be a lot more complicated and troubling, and I assumed it to be the norm and thought that everybody goes through the same thing. In contrast, though, it just seems like I really should have realized the signs. When you are in a relationship, it should come down to simple little things. You know what they are, when you feel like you are so full to the brim, you know. It shouldn't be difficult, because love isn't. With Neptina, that's how things seem to be like.


The Birthday Thing

Monday, June 29, 2009

The Birthday Thing

It is my birthday today, and it is one of those days that used to mean a lot to me when I was a kid. I'm sure that is the case for most people out there, the way we used to crave for birthday parties and extravagant gifts on this day. When I was much younger, I never expected myself to receive gifts, but I did expect myself to be treated better on this particular day for some reason. I remember a birthday party a long time ago when my neighbor from upstairs was invited. We are family friends, see, and it was only natural for us to hang out on my birthday. I even have pictures of it in the photo album right now, a chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles on the sides, and my friend Ben's fingers being stained by cherries. I remember wearing those tall paper party hats that made my chin so uncomfortable back then, but I wore it anyway because it felt like it was part of the "birthday package", if there was ever such a thing. You know, those long thin straps that goes under your chin to make the hat stand upright. Those straps are really uncomfortable, and I remember hating it immensely. But the party was good, with the song being sang, the candles being blown and the cake being sliced. It was all over after all the games and all the pictures were taken. Other than that, birthday parties were little and far in between.

Anyway, so today is my birthday, and my parents came to me and asked if I am expecting a concert coming up anytime soon. Apparently, my mother somehow thought that I was about to attend a concert, an assumption which baffles me to no end because I haven't spoken of any in a long time. There aren't any bands that I like that is coming to Singapore, at least no one has announced it just yet. At any rate, my mother stuffed me two hundred dollars and told me to use it for future concerts - a birthday gift that is both strange and, admittedly, very practical. It isn't the kind of gift to feel warm and fuzzy about, but let's admit it - we all love thick wads of cash more than a gift. At least with the money, you can do pretty much whatever you want with it. If you want to bust in on a plate of chicken wings, you can go right ahead and do it, nobody is going to stop you. I'm just saying that it is practical to give me money, and it's not like I haven't suggested that idea in the past anyway. So, my birthday gift this year is apparently two hundred dollars from the parents. It's not a lot, but it is still money anyway. In the previous years, I have gotten guitars from them, so I guess this kind of pales in comparison.

Though, I really shouldn't complain, because what came next today on the timetable really struck me back to rock bottom. I am not one to feel depressed about people forgetting my birthday, I really cannot care less. It is nice if people remember, and a big thank you to all those that did. But for the rest, it's not like I'd hold anything against you guys whatsoever. Not many people did so far, but we have a whole day ahead of us anyway. What really pissed me off today was probably the whole mid-terms paper for PSY 333. I know it is something silly to be worked up about, and I also made a mental note to myself before to not be so hard on myself. After all, as COM 249 and 450 proved, I don't usually do as bad as I expect. But this time around, I really do think that I am going to do as badly, or worse, than I expect. It sucks even more that I had to go through the paper on my birthday itself, and not all the other days. This deep burning rage I have against the lecturer has been going on for a while now, and it isn't being extinguished by her grandma-looking exterior either. I constantly conjure up images of her being tortured underneath a blowtorch and a chainsaw at the same time. It isn't so much about her, of course, but about the kind of papers she love to set.

We have heard horror stories her in the past, but things started out fine. I mean, for those who have been through her class, they've told us before about how terrible she is as a lecturer. A point to note here, the juniors seem to love all the lecturers that the seniors hate. I have no idea why, but they just seem to differ from us in terms of opinions. Anyway, the lot of us are not exactly used to her exam style of focusing on filling in the blanks. I mean, we have been trained mostly with MCQs and essay questions, and the sheer amount of content that we had to study this time really was a strain on us. She obviously didn't take into consideration the fact that this is a summer semester, and that everything is sandwiched up for us. Just because her module gets the entire semester (unlike the others which have only six), it doesn't mean that we have all the time in the world to focus on her shit. It becomes annoying when she uses her old standards on us, and believes in her own methods of teaching when they aren't necessarily teaching. Anyway, I probably bombed this mid-terms paper, and I am not the kind of person who'd do well in a paper after claiming that I have bombed it. Yes, I bombed this paper, and I mean it that way.

So, for the rest of my birthday today, I am going to spend it with Neptina (hopefully), sleeping, playing catch up on blogging, and a whole lot of nothing. It happens just once every year, but it's true that turning twenty-three really doesn't feel very much different from when I turned twenty-two last year. This is the period of time, a series of ages whereby there aren't a lot of differences for the most part. Like, turning twenty from being nineteen is probably a big deal, and the same with turning twenty-one from twenty. But everything from twenty-two to twenty-four, nothing really changes mentally, and everything pretty much remains the same. Twenty-five is the year when people start to worry about a great many things. People start to think about careers and families, and they start to think about marriages and all the sort of thing. Twenty-five, being on the later half of the twenties, it just makes you feel like you are running out of time. Twenty-six to twenty-eight is yet another period of time when everything pretty much feels the same. You are still not married, and your job still sucks, and you have already survived a couple of years on the same wage - fine. Then twenty-nine comes along, the last year you are in your twenties, and you really start to freak out here when you realize that you are pushing thirty.

So yes, twenty-three feels just about right I guess. It's good to be a guy at times, you really don't have to worry about aging at this age. I mean, they are always talking about expiry dates for girls, and I am sure there is one for guys as well. It's just that we probably had a lot more preservatives added at the beginning, and we tend to last a lot longer than the ladies. By twenty-five, some women would see themselves as being "out of the market", or ready to get married, that sort of thing. Maybe it doesn't work like that right now, but at least there are people who still believe in it. Twenty-three is a very comfortable age for me, and especially so when I don't have to throw a big party to commemorate it. There was an urge when I turned twenty-one to celebrate it, or to mourn for the loss of my youth and innocence, something like that. But then again, when I did eventually turn twenty-one, I realized that my youth was still intact, and I haven't been innocent for a very long time already. So, it really wasn't that significant, and anybody who has planned and thrown a party would tell you that logistically, it is a bitch. Not only that, you have to entertain different tables of individuals who have been important in your life, yet at the same time they may not be related to one another in any way. Trying to play host is going to be annoying, and I'd much rather entertain them on different occasions. Maybe when I am pushing thirty - just maybe.

Anyway, I intend to spend today much like how I spent yesterday, and the day before that. Neptina is coming over today, and we are just going to hang out and laugh at silly things. I don't imagine myself to hold out for very long in the afternoon, since the paper was a killer and I have no cells left in my skull to do anything more than to go into hibernation for a while. I think there were plans for some of us to go out to town. But, seeing the weather and the lack of enthusiasm, not to mention the rampage of the swine flu out in the wild, you kind of want to stay indoors and stay away from the general public out there. Felicia was just telling me about the taxi that she saw the other day on CTE, with all the passengers wearing masks, including the driver, and the windows winded down. That is how serious things are right now, and I personally feel that Singapore needs a bloody wake up call. I don't wish for death, but I wish for a further spread somehow. That is the only way for people to learn from this, to know how serious things can get when you do not take extra measures to control the situation. I mean, just look at the military camps. Sooner or later, no one would be booking out and no one would be booking in either. Wait, that's actually an awesome idea. Let's do that.

The Death of Michael Jackson

Friday, June 26, 2009

The Death of Michael Jackson

1958-2009

There aren't a lot of people you can recognize just by looking at their silhouette. Most of the ones that you can recognize are probably cinema icons, like Indiana Jones with his trademark hat, for example, or the silhouette of C3PO and R2D2 maybe. You know that a character you have created has reached some kind of pedestal, you know. Even if you are not a character, even a real life person could reach that kind of pedestal once they've reached somewhere. It's true that you can't put Justin Timberlake's silhouette somewhere and expect anybody to recognize him straightaway, you just can't. He is in a different league from those that can be recognized, those who don't need to show their faces for you to come up with a name. Michael Jackson is one such individual, one who has defied a basic human need to see a person's face to know who that person is, or a voice for that matter. All you have to do is to see the silhouette of him and you'd know who that is. It is that simple, and it is because of who he is as an entertainer, and what he stands for. It is Michael Jackson, the one and only, and you really need nothing more than a shadow on the wall to feel the bass line of Billie Jean creeping up your bones.

I remember as a child, I used to love the Dangerous album of his, initially for the album art. I mean, there is just so much to look at on the album cover itself, and I remember staring at it intently whenever I sat on the front seat of my mother's car. I remember my mother kept the copy of the album on her car, and she'd play that album once in a while. I loved that album, and my favorite song from that album (at that time) was probably Heal the World. It was probably because it was a familiar song that my primary school used to play every year during Children's Day for some reason. The students would be forced to hold hands, and then we'd try to read the lyrics off the projector screen at the front of the hall. I loved that song, even more than those cheesy national day songs that they'd force down our throats. I remember the year when they stopped playing the song during Children's Day, and they also stopped giving us those little gifts. I used to get stationaries from the school that were pretty neat by the way, whatever happened to those? Anyway, there was this time when I replayed the album so many times that I actually asked my mother if I could stay in the car to listen to the song while she hopped off to buy something. That's how crazy I was about Michael Jackson.

Then there was that time when I was still in high school, and Michael Jackson's latest album at that time, Invincible, was receiving quite a bit of air time on the radio as well as on MTV. I remember the big premier that many stations were promoting of his new music video, and how it featured Chris Tucker and Marlon Brando - yeah, you know you have to watch the Godfather. I remember being really excited about it, and was blown away by the dance sequence in the middle of the music video. For those who has seen the video, you know what I am talking about. In truth, it is probably one of my favorite Michael Jackson songs, and the dance move is just a killer from the beginning to the end, even if some people would argue that it is one of his lesser hits. I love You Rock My World, and I love everything about that song. I mean, it even made Chris Tucker somewhere bearable on screen, and that says a lot about it. At any rate, I remember trying to imitate his dance moves, and I spent many hours in front of the television just practicing. Of course, by the end of it, I still sucked very badly. But to me, to imagine myself dancing with Michael Jackson, that feeling was pretty damn awesome. I was probably too old at that time to have such a childish fantasy. Yet, whenever that song came on the television, I'd rush to the living room and try to follow the moves.

It was last Friday morning when I woke up with two messages on my cellphone. One was from Felicia and the other was from Neptina. Both messages were about the same person and the same event: Michael Jackson died. The first reaction to this, in this day and age, is to doubt it. I mean, I've heard of Michael Jackson dying about three times now, and he has almost always bounced back to life somehow. There has been rumors sometime last year about his skin deteriorating or something like that, and he was dying as a result. But of course, that didn't happen, and he later revealed his plan to have one last shot at touring. I immediately jumped in front of my computer and checked various news websites, and all of them were indeed reporting the same thing. Michael Jackson was indeed dead, and reports were coming up from everywhere regarding his death. I just sat in my chair for a while, stunned by that piece of news, and wished desperately that somebody would reveal to everybody else that it was all a hoax. It happens, you know, people with a bad sense of humor still joke about death of somebody famous every once in a while. But not this time, nobody came out with a crude smile to say that it was all a joke. Nobody came clean this time, and Michael Jackson remained dead and wrapped up in a body bag as he was wheeled out from a helicopter.

I remember thinking to myself the implications of it all, the idea that the world is now missing an important part of history. Yes, I used the word "history", because I believe he has contributed that much, you know. A lot of people are mourning everywhere around the world right now, with little shrines set up to commemorate his greatness in life as an entertainer. Fans around the world are either celebrating his life or mourning for his death, but his name is in all their minds all around the world. I cannot say that I was the biggest of fans, or a fan at any rate. After all, as much as I appreciate his contributions to the music world (or the world), my love for music has always lied elsewhere somehow. Yet, nobody can deny his impact on all musicians out there, and everybody has had some kind of influence from him, one way or another. I remember sitting in the car one day a few months ago with Sarah and Felicia when Billie Jean came up on the radio and we all screamed. We even pulled the car over at one point just so that we could focus on the singing. Even after all these years, that song still makes the younger generation go crazy, and that is the power of his music. My love for his music pretty much ends there, but I still love it for what it is worth.

Despite all the negative publicity he has had over the past couple of years, I've always held on to the idea that he is a kickass performer. A lot of people are saying that it is disgusting for some to praise Michael Jackson and his music, when the same group of people would have condemned everything that he stood for in life only a few months ago. I agree, and I do feel that it is disgusting and pretentious of this people to change their views all of a sudden at the death of somebody. Death changes everything, even the perception of somebody no matter how deeply rooted these false accusations are in his or her veins. Personally, I have always acknowledged his strange antics and oddities in the media, with everything from the baby tangling incident to his masks. You cannot deny that in life and off the stage, Michael Jackson has not only been a very private and secretive person, he has also been a very strange individual. Nonetheless, while I recognized that for a fact, I still enjoyed his music, his talents, and his contributions to the world. I love everything about his songs, and I love trying to dance to it even though people mistake me for a tree when I attempt to do so. It isn't about moral judgments here, and we are not trying to say whether he really commit the crimes that he was accused of. The truth is this: on stage, he had no peers.

His death has triggered a great many things on the internet alone. His songs and albums are topping charts everywhere, even on pirated websites. Twitter was down for a while because there were so many people flooding onto the website to post about his death. Even at death, he was still able to create such an impact over the world. I suppose it becomes very hard to comprehend the idea that he is gone, someone who has always been on a different pedestal from all of us, dying from such a human reason. It saddens me because he died with a trail of somewhat bad reputation. Whether or not the accusations were true, it is impossible to separate his legacy from those scandals. People are still going to associate him with the scandals no matter if they were true or not. That is how human beings are anyway, because the negative stuff are always more fun to talk about, right? Anyway, people are going to remember him that way, at least for some, while others will literally dance on the streets to remember his music. I love that, you know, to have so many strangers gather together and to celebrate his music in a manner that they deem fit. I love that kind of commemoration, one without tears and depression, but a kind of joy and celebration.

At any rate, deep inside, everybody knows that a major part of our cultural DNA is now gone, or at least the music industry anyway. There will come a time when celebrities would die, and nobody would care too much about it. Think about all the bands and all the artistes on today's bestselling charts, and how many of those people are actually going to make it to the level of where Michael Jackson was. It is difficult to imagine any of them to have the same kind of impact, in life or in death. It is a part of the degradation of music that saddens me, and this shiny beacon that is Michael Jackson is now gone. The same person who revolutionized the industry and blew the door open for other artistes to come through isn't around any longer, and it just sucks that we have to settle with monkeys like the Jonas Brothers and some reality television show winner. It disgusts me, even, to put them in the same sentence, but that is just to show the contrast anywhere. There isn't going to be anybody like him, no matter how hard you try. If you search around deep enough, you are going to find a video of Michael Jackson and Usher dancing together. Sure, Usher is a really good dancer, no questions about that. But next to Michael Jackson, he looked like a school boy trying desperate to imitate. Even at forty, Michael Jackson kicked a lot of ass.

I don't want to pretend that I am terribly affected by his death - I am not. I felt more when George Carlin died, though that was somewhat expected to a certain degree. He has been battling heart problems for years, and it's not like he died at a ripe age to begin with. Michael Jackson's death was more of a shock to me, a sudden jolt to the senses, and the sense of loss that came afterwards overwhelmed me for a while. The truth is that there will no longer be a man to blow the world away by moonwalking on the stage, nor will there a man who can make a silly dance move look so brilliant. Nobody can grab their own crotches with a straight face and look cool anymore, and nobody can pretend to comb their hair on stage without looking somewhat tacky. There was only one Michael Jackson, and there will only be one Michael Jackson. He transcended many boundaries in life, and more than just his music, he transcended the musical boundaries. He was no longer black, or white, an American or whatever. Like many great people in history, Michael Jackson is just Michael Jackson, as simple as that. I think John Mayer put it really well in a short article he wrote for TIME magazine, and I shall share it with you guys here in order to end this very long entry of mine.

People don't get upset when they talk about Michael Jackson dying, they get upset when they talk about how much a part of their life it was. I mean, what are the 80's? A Rubik's Cube, 3D glasses and Michael Jackson. And that's the giant cornerstone that's gone. He's one of the few crossover artists that would make even the most radical white supremacists say, "Well he's not black — he's Michael Jackson." He's not black, he's Barack Obama. He's not black, he's Jimi Hendrix. He's not black, he's Tiger Woods.

As a musician, the man was one of the purest substances ever in music. But it's frustrating, and somewhat pointless, to ever try and figure out how Michael Jackson arrived at an album like Thriller and how you could arrive at something like it. It's impossible. I mean it's one of those things you actually don't want to bring up to musicians because they don't want to remember that that kind of greatness is achievable, because it skews the entire bell curve completely.

Michael Jackson proves, in a really sort of perverse way, that maybe we're not as offended by your behavior as we are entranced by your music. And think about that. Think about what level of quality you must have to attain to have somebody say, "I know that you're accused of having molested children, but I can't hate you for that as much as I love you for your music." I'm not saying that's right or wrong. But I'm saying that its fascinating. That somebody could be that great. That somebody could have that much of a marriage with your emotions just through music.

There's just one Michael Jackson now. We don't have to reconcile the Michael Jackson we love with another Michael Jackson. In a way, he has returned to pristine condition in death. We can be free now for the rest of our lives to love the Michael Jackson we used to love.

John Mayer






The Green Revolution

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

The Green Revolution

Iranian democracy.

Picture from Boston.com.

If you are a frequent user on Twitter, you'd have noticed the strange green hue pulled over some users' display pictures. There isn't anything wrong with your eyesight though, so you really don't have to worry very much about that. Many users on Twitter as well as on other social network has taken up the initiative to change their display pictures to show their support for the Iranian situation that is happening right now. A lot of the users on my list, especially the celebrities, they are all changing their display pictures and voluntarily turning their faces green for a change. It is everywhere now, and I feel somewhat guilty for not doing the same somehow. But still, I have to be honest about this whole situation: I don't know it as well as I'd like to. I mean, we all know that there was an election, and we also know that a lot of people were unhappy with the results. So they are fighting back now, against the government and also the religious institutions behind the government bodies. It is a revolution in the making somewhere down in the middle east, a place so far away that we've only heard of in the news. It isn't a country that we can step on to just by driving over a causeway. It's a land far, far away, and I don't see myself trying to be involved despite not knowing anything about it.

Yet, despite all that, I am blogging about it and dedicating an entire entry to the situation. You may think of it as being contradictory, or pretentious for those who are alien to euphemisms. It would be the case if I try to make a stand and say what is right and what is wrong. It'd be pretentious if I try to justify their cause, or to criminalize the actions of the government over there. It'd be wrong to do a lot of that at this point, but that is not what this entry is about. After all, I know so very little about the situation over there, and much of what I know came from pictures in the news and videos of people being shot dead in the streets. Anything more than that, I am afraid, I merely know the surface of the issues, and nothing concrete enough. I suppose only an Iranian would really know the situation over there, especially those who have already endured the 1979 revolution. Well, even I got to know about that revolution from Persepolis, that awesome animation movie that got snubbed in many major awards last year (or the year before last, I cannot remember). At any rate, there is a revolution going on over there, and there is no questions about how things would turn out in the end for the people. Things are going to change, whether or not it is going to be for the better or for the worse.

This entry isn't so much about justifying anything, but about what I have seen and a judgment on those. You see so many people on the internet commenting on the situation there, some of them supporting the cause while others are pouring buckets of cold water over everybody else. Many believe that, like many revolutions out there, it is not going to work. Well, it is difficult to say whether or not it would at this point, but that is the kind of opinions you are going to find on the internet right now. I find it interesting how social media has become an avenue for the people within the country to voice their opinions. It reminds me of the march of the monks in Myanmar the other time, when the government tried to block the internet and preventing people from sending out pictures and videos of the situation over there. But they still leaked out, and people found ways to send them out to the world via technology. I love to see people finding ways to express their views and voice their opinions, even when the power at be tries to cover them up to the rest of the world. I mean, to know that the website that I go to everyday has become a weapon against a government and the religion behind it amazes me. Only in our generation people, only in our generation.

As the protests draw on, videos start to pop out everywhere of police shooting at the crowds, and the crowds fighting back. The most disturbing video that I have seen so far is probably the one with the woman being shot in the chest (I think), and she literally bled to death on the camera. Death is nothing new though, because everybody is going to go through it a couple of times in your life, even if it is not your own. You hear about death a lot, but seeing it on the news and on the internet is something else altogether. Seeing the process of death, seeing how it works on life and takes it away, that is something you don't see everyday. I wasn't as disturbed as when the American soldier (or was it a journalist) got beheaded in the video I saw a long time ago. It isn't as graphic definitely, but the impact is even more profound than before. I mean, we have this person who passionately fought for her rights and her freedom from the dictatorial government, and to die on the streets isn't something that is deserved by anybody at all. It was heartbreaking, I suppose, to see how humans have to resort to such actions in order to proof a point. We can't sit down and talk things out anymore, we just pull our triggers and we really cannot care less if you are unhappy with our brand of democracy.

It amazes me, you know, when you think about it. I mean, humans have advanced this far from the stone ages, when we used to clubbed each other when we were unhappy with one another. Right now, we have fighter jets breaking the sound barrier, we have satellites going around our planet and taking pictures of everything on the surface by the hour, and we have put things into orbit on distant planets, and even landing some of our drones! Technology has advanced so wide that it becomes difficult to comprehend some of them, and it never ceases to amaze me just how incredible we have developed. Yet, when it comes to political disputes, humans are still the same as how we were before. It's just that the weapon of choice is very different now, and the situation has become even more complicated. Replaced are the clubs and the wooden sticks, and now we have rifles that fire bullets into people's heads and blasting it open from four hundred meters away. It is easy to kill somebody if you want to, and the basic purpose is the same as before. We have been fighting each other for a long time, and you start to wonder when that barbaric nature inside all of us is going to catch up with other aspects of human development. You know, when is that side ever going to become more advanced and civilized?

To be in a country of peace is a great thing, and there's no questions about that. You want your job to be stable, and you want to know that your country is being run by a bunch of competent people. Singapore is one such country despite its complete lack of transparency. The monopolistic rule over the country may be criticized by some, but you cannot deny that they are running the country rather well in relative to many of its neighbors. Only when a country is going down the shitters do people really have the right, or the guts, to complain. Anyway, we live a relatively peaceful life here, the kind that goes into an uproar when a woman gets stabbed in a HDB flat somewhere in a town not too far from ours. In other countries, a woman being stabbed would be on the news for five minutes and then brushed off to the next big event somewhere else. It doesn't get a lot of attention, because social issues such as murder happens all the time in other countries. My point is that it is so peaceful here in Singapore, that every event becomes a giant event. Just think about that little girl who got kidnapped and killed a couple of years back, and how many unrelated strangers attended her funeral. Yeah, that's how it is in Singapore. It is like a giant village, and anything becomes a major event for everybody somehow.

I am not complaining about the situation here, though there are areas whereby I cannot help but want to run away from. This entry isn't about those though, so I shall not elaborate on that. It is peaceful here, but there is a part of me who wants to be involved in a protest that is on the scale of those happening in Iran right now. It's not that I desire chaos of course, because I like to know that I am not going to be shot in the head, or dragged away into black vans with a bag over my head just because I appeared in an amateur video that was shot during the protest. It's just that when you watch these videos and read about these people risking their lives and fighting for what they believe in, you cannot help but admire these young people. I mean, it amazes me, the way that they stood up to a regiment like that, especially in a country where free speech isn't necessarily a commodity that everybody has. The courage to step out and fight for what they believe in, that is the kind of spirit that affects me, even though Iran still seems like a country that the news agency made up. I want to be involved in a revolution that is on the scale, something of that kind of importance, and I want to risk my life for something that I believe in too.

But in a country like Singapore, there isn't much to fight about. Or, at least, there isn't something nearly as worthy to fight about as the Iranians are right now. Maybe I could go onto the streets to fight for student rights when it comes to SAF's treatment of students from private universities. Or, I could protest against the government's close ties with Myanmar, supplying them with weapons and naming a damn tree after one of the dictators. I can do those, but even that does not compare to what is happening in Iran right now. I mean, this is a revolution that grew out of a social media, and it is spreading like wild fire all over the world. This is a revolution against, not only the president or the government, but the religious bodies behind it. It is a complete change over of system, and people are fighting these powers at be on a daily basis. I think that moves me quite a bit, and I'd rally in the streets if I am an Iranian myself. But of course, at this point of the entry, you may deem me as being pretentious already, and maybe I am. But it's true, I'd like to be involved in something on that scale, even if I am just a reporter of some kind, hiding behind a pillar and taking notes. It'd be awesome to be surrounded by people are passionate in what they hold true.

Watching the news, I was reminded of that protest that happened a couple of years ago in my own country of Taiwan. You know, tens of thousands of people rallied the streets for a month straight while wearing red t-shirts against the then-corrupted government. It was a big thing on the news everywhere, and a spectacle you don't see on a daily basis for sure. Those people marched onto the streets in a peaceful protest against the corrupted president, and wanted him to resign from his post. They crowded the streets and surrounded many major buildings in the capital, and remained there for a couple of days straight in an demonstration against anti-democracy. Yet, the moment I saw that piece of news on television, I told my parents that it isn't going to work. They asked me why I thought that way, and I just told them that it isn't going to work. Maybe it has something to do with cynicism, or maybe it was because of statistics - how many successful revolutions are there anyway? In the end, that demonstration went to waste, and it didn't actually work at all. The president remained in the office until the end of his term, and he was replaced by a new president who really isn't much better than him.

I just feel that this major shift in Iranian politics is something bigger than anything that I have ever witnessed. Well, I am not actually there to physically witness it of course, but it is one of those things that you know is big, you know. It isn't any of our businesses of course, and it is really up to the Iranians to work things out on their own. But just seeing how things are working out there, it really astonishes me somehow. This time, it isn't about some stupid president with a thirst for money, and it isn't even against the administration per se. This is a fight against something bigger, and the people are trying to fight for something that a lot of other countries in the world truly believe in - democracy. I feel that the system isn't the best system out there, and it is a slow and tedious process that isn't all that efficient. But it is the best that we've got, and it touches me to the bones to know that there are people out there who believe and are willing to fight for such an abstract thing, you know? I mean, democracy is so abstract and intangible, and it is not something that you can cradle in your hands. It is something that is very much out there, if you know what I mean, and to know that people are doing everything they can to get it. That's human spirit right there, that's human spirit.

Vegan Curious?

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Vegan Curious?

Keep being awesome, guys.

Cable Cars

Monday, June 22, 2009

Cable Cars

I don't even remember the last time I took cable cars to Sentosa. OK, I don't even remember the last time I even took cable cars. Despite the fact that they are in operation every single day in the area of Harbour Front, I haven't actually took a cable car ride in more than a decade. I suppose the reason being is because the lure of Sentosa has grown less and less in me over the years, not that it was anything to be excited about to begin with. It is a giant tourist trap, a trap that pulls in the tourists and suck out all their money before spitting their bones out. Just try buying a can of soft drink there and see how much it costs you, you'd know what I mean. Anyway, so cable car was one of the main transports that you could take to the island, aside from the ferry and the car. Now you have that funky monorail thing that costs two or three dollars or something, not to mention the chartered bus rides from the interchange and all the other funky ways you get get onto the island. Cable cars, being probably the most expensive option of them all, kinda lost its shine ever since a long time ago. However, you cannot deny that getting onto an island at almost a hundred meters above sea level is pretty badass, if you ask me.

Another reason for the cable cars growing out of favor, at least for my family, was because of lesser visitors to our home in Singapore. By visitors, I am talking about friends and relatives from Taiwan coming over, and they did come very often when we first moved here to Singapore. Once we settled down and got ourselves comfortable, friends and relatives started coming over like waves to the shores, back to back to back. So naturally, when you have guests coming over to your place, you kind of want to bring them to tourist attractions, with one of them being Sentosa. Cable cars, then, became the coolest way of taking these people to the island, since parking on the island was (and is) a bitch even back then. After they've visited in the past, they came lesser and lesser until there wasn't a point to come over any longer. So, the family stayed away from Sentosa, and that was probably the last time I took the cable cars. I mean, I am not a big fan of heights, though that is not to say that I am terrified of it. I dislike the possibility of death, but I loved the view up there. Since then, I've been wanting to take a ride up in the cable cars for the longest time, but never really got the chance to - until yesterday!

I remember my trips to Sentosa, with many of them well-documented by the photographs in the album. That water-spitting dragon is still there in Sentosa now, and I remember following its body as it duck in and out of the ground. Then there was the water fountain, the Underwater World which was my ultimate favorite (still is), and then there was the place with a lot of butterflies. One of the deepest memories was the one with cable cars, when the family would squeeze into the car, and then we'd be pushed out of the building by giant machines and gears. I remember being fascinated by those giant wheels, turning and pulling in cable cars from one side and pushing them out from the other. I was terrified of the cable cars at first, not trusting the flimsy looking wheels at the top that was holding us up, and the two automated doors that looked like they were made out of cardboards. They were precarious looking, and the worst part hasn't even begun yet. The scariest parts for me back then were always the parts when the cable cars reached the towers, and the whole car would shake and vibrate for some reason. Nothing ever happened to me of course, and I am certainly glad that I was not involved in that incident when the cable cars got stuck up there. Still, despite the excitement before actually taking the cable cars, I knew that I'd be somewhat nervous when I got up there.

It was really out of impulse when I told Neptina that I wanted to take the cable cars. We were actually at Raffles City at that time, trying to find the special pen with invisible ink to write secret letters with. We found that, and later found ourselves deciding on where to go next. For some reason, I really wanted to do something different, and one of the things was to take the cable car. The idea really came out from the left field, a thought that I haven't entertained in the longest time. I am not usually someone who would go for something so tourist-like, if you ask of me. I mean, going to the Night Safari felt somewhat tourist-like, though that was an incredibly enjoyable trip, especially with the fake ghosts and monsters. Anyway, I am not usually like that, but for some reason I really wanted to go for it. Perhaps it was the part of me that craves for spontaneity, or maybe it is because Neptina and I never really have a plan of where to go or what to do. We usually have something in mind to buy from a mall or a shop. Like a roll of film, something to develop, some book to buy, whatever. Then after that, it usually involves us fooling around (not in the sexual way) with cameras in Starbucks and all around town. At the most, we'd hang out at each others' homes, which I still feel is the best place to hang out for couples.

Neptina, being the good sport as she is, agreed to follow me all the way down to Harbour Front area to take the cable car. That's how we roll anyway, no papers to draw up plans or a map to figure out where to go. Someone has an idea and we execute it, and if someone has a craving we fulfill it. This time around, I had a need to ride the cable car, and she was nice enough to agree with me on it - thanks love! That's one of the amazing things about this wonderful girlfriend that I have. It's not that it is easy for us to do whatever that I want, because it isn't like that. I think the dynamic is great that we respect each other, and that we try our best to do what the other person wants, as long as it is within limits, if you know what I mean. Anyway, it was a childish urge of mine to ride the cable car, and it really didn't matter if it took us a while to get down there and find our way to Harbour Front Center. It is fun to go anywhere with Neptina, even if it is some kind of swamp or the homogenous shopping malls popping up all around the island. It is fun wherever she is, and it really is all about the company than the place you decide to go for the most part. Anyway, we found our way to the ticketing counter, and it was up the cool glass elevator after a toilet break.

I love those elevators that are situated at the side of buildings, because you get to see yourself go upwards and stuff, and that's really cool. That is not to mention when you almost reach the top floor, the view goes "whoosh" and it disappears all of a sudden, and I kind of like that. Anyway, we reached the fifteenth floor and got out, and that was where the cable cars were. The low humming of the machinery could be heard from behind closed doors, and there wasn't really a queue despite the fact that it was a Sunday. We immediately got our own cable car, and we made sure that nobody else was going to share it with us, not because we wanted to do anything funny in there, but because - well, who'd want to share? Anyway, the automatic doors closed up, and the cable cars made a u-turn and it was us and a sharp fall at the edge of the building. I held on to the seat and braced myself for the sudden fall Neptina mentioned about. You know, that interesting feeling in your bladder when the plane takes a dip in the skies? It's not that I experienced that yesterday, but I was expecting that to happen. However, the transition was surprisingly smooth, and it was awesome to be away from the machines and out into the open.

I didn't remember the rides to be like that at all. Like I mentioned before, I expected the ride to be a whole lot scarier than it was. Maybe they added more lubrication to the wheels or something, because I hardly felt the wheels at the top when it moved up towards the towers. Speaking of the towers, I wonder what it'd be like to be a staff in charge of maintenance at the cable car place, and someone asks you to go up all the way to the top of the tower to fix something minor. Imagine carrying the toolbox all the way up there by some dark winding stairs to brave the wind and the heights. It's probably one of the worst jobs ever, but somebody does it all the time I am sure. Anyway, it was surprisingly quiet and calming at the top, and the setting sun in the west didn't exactly bake us in the cable car at all. Wind found its way into the small little cabin through vents on the doors and on the sides, and the both of us started to wave at passing tourists on the opposite direction. Most of them were busy taking pictures though, and we also saw this Caucasian man tickling his girlfriend's feet as they passed us by on the opposite cable. Nobody waved back, save for the foreign workers when we reached the Mount Faber side of the cable tour.

It isn't exactly cheap to take a ride on the cable cars though. However, I have a feeling that I enjoyed it more than I would on Singapore Flyer. Sure, with the giant ferris wheel, you get a better view of things and stuff. But you don't get the kind of privacy you get with the cable cars, since you are probably only going to share it only with people that you know. Also, Singapore Flyer takes way too long to make one revolution, which means that you are probably going to get bored of the view halfway up the giant wheel. That is not to mention that it is probably going to cost you twice the amount to "take a flight", as they call it, on the Singapore Flyer than the cable cars. So, I say, the cable car is the winner in the big fight of the tourist attractions between the two. Or, maybe I am just biased due to childhood memories. Or, maybe it is because Neptina was with me at a hundred meters up in the air, taking random pictures and being all random. I remember midway through the trip when I took off my shoes and sat across from her on the other side of the cabin. It wasn't because the bench there was more comfortable (it wasn't), or that I didn't want to sit with her. I just wanted a better view of her as the sunlight came through the window and made her face glow, that's all. I didn't tell her, but that's the reason why.

Hey, thanks for riding the cable car with me. Suspended in mid air with you over the sea is exactly how I feel when I am with you while we are everywhere else that we have been.


The Axis of Awesome.

Parrots!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Parrots!

So Neptina and I were on our way home to her place this afternoon when we decided to take a walk in the park next to her place. That was when the sound of animal screeches could be heard from a distance, and it didn't sound like anything we've ever heard before. She thought they were crows that hang around the neighborhood every once in a while, and I thought it was a particularly ferocious mating session between two cats. As we got closer to investigate the source of the sound, it sounded like lambs being slaughtered for a religious ritual or something like that. That was when Neptina noticed the parrots on the tree, chained to the branches and screaming their bird heads off. We were completely drawn to the birds that we pretty much stood there for almost an hour, just watching them bite tree barks and poop. I have this thing for animals, this strange ability to stare at them for hours on end. Neptina wondered how it was possible for everybody else at the park to go about their things and not be completely mesmerized by the animals up in the trees. A feather came off one of the parrots, and we picked it up to bring it home afterwards - it's gorgeous! Anyway, the parrots belong to an old lady, who later on brought another breed of parrot to the park and placed it on the tree as well. Videos to be uploaded soon!






















Songs

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Songs

I love music, and most of you should already know that by now. There is always a song playing in my bedroom through my speakers whenever I am around, and the only times when I turn it off in front of the computer would be when I am trying to study. I like the idea of my surroundings being filled with music somehow, even if it is soft music too soft to hear the words in proper. It is a fantasy of sorts, but I do like the idea of having speakers all around my house in the future, if I am rich enough to accomplish such a feat. I'd like music to run through my house wherever I go, and I wouldn't need to pause a track just because natural calls for me. My iPod Touch is also one of my most important possession, simply because of the fact that my entire music library is packed into that little device of mine. More often than not, if you are meeting me for a date or a simple gathering, I am going to appear with my earphones pushed into my ears. My iPod is also something that I have to have with me on my way to school, or when I am engaging myself in a particularly long journey. I immerse myself into the songs at times, allowing myself to be in some other place and in some other time. I love everything there is to love about music, and one of the main reasons is because of how it reminds me.

One of the most amazing things about songs is that, for some reason, you don't quite forget the circumstances in which you first heard the song. Also, there are certain memories that come along with certain songs that make it so special and worth listening to over and over again. You know that feeling, when you are listening to a song you haven't heard of in a long time, and you start to wonder how it is possible for you to remember every single word in that song, despite all the other songs that have come along since then. I was going through some blogs when I came upon Naz's, who recently posted a old music video from 98 Degrees, a song called Invisible Man. I pretty much grew up in the boy bands era, not really because I chose to be a part of the hype, but because my sister was already around to influence my musical taste. That was before I decided to break away from the trend and seek my own path in music, which ultimately led me to where I am now, after trotting through the realms of Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park. I was there before, and I do not deny that of course. It all start, though, back in the days when boy bands were genuinely cool, and I remember all the little details that went on when I would sing along to that song on MTV as a child. I was such a fanboy back then.

Songs that that do that to me, you know. Songs from the boy bands, and all those one-hit wonders that came in the 90s, they've all made such a deep impression in my life that it has become such a part of me as an identity. It is somewhat embarrassing to revisit those days, with the boy bands dressed in a strange way and their band hairstyles, not to mention the pathetic efforts by me to imitate them one by one. But songs like that remind me of the times when I had a lot less knobs to turn, and when I had a lot less important decisions to make. It's not that I do not like the kind of life that I lead right now, but it's just that there are some things that you cannot relive anymore, you know. It's like that feeling after you've walked out from an awesome movie for the very first time, and you know that you cannot get the same first-time feeling again no matter how hard you try, even if you decide to buy the DVD when it is released to try to relive it - you can't find it back. Boy band songs do that to me somehow, though I am talking about the ones that mattered enough to be remembered. Like the Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, 98 Degrees, and some of the boy bands that came along afterwards.

The best friend in a heartache, they say, may not necessarily be the shoulders of a friend or the advices that one may give. In the event of the breakup, you know how it may seem like to the people around you. All the concerns and all the questions, it almost seem like that see your breakdown as some kind of entertainment, and they are validating their own pathetic relationship by comparing it to your broken one. It's like a boy comparing his lousy toy to some other kid's broken toy - at least one is working properly. Songs are not judgmental, and they are just there when you need them. Pick the right song, and it speaks about everything that you are going through, so much so that it can become rather creepy at times. Songs do that to you sometimes, it creep you out by being so familiar. It isn't your voice over the speakers or your fingers on the guitar, but the similarities are uncanny. It is the same story all around the world, hearts being broken for the very same reasons all the time everywhere. Someone else out there has went through the same thing, and someone else has written a song about it. I love the way I relate to a song, and claim it to be special to me, in my heart. There are songs like that for me, songs that I used to tune in to when I needed that extra comfort that told me that it is OK, because somebody else went through the same thing - they understand.

I have so many of such songs, because I went through a particularly dark period of time when I would remain in my room for days on end, just listening to these songs and then lying on the table. There were times when the side of my face were turn red after lying my head on the table for too long, but I'd never be able to go to sleep. Always, the attention to the words, I'd be paying attention to them all, and then conjuring up images of how the perfect things in my life back then came crumbling down. Wheel by John Mayer is one such song, and a very potent song that speaks to me about every facet of a heartbreak. Because I Told You So by Jonatha Brooke is another one of those songs like that, bringing up very specific memories of mine that are directly related to aspects of my past that is best left in the past. I remember the emotions that I went through while listening to these songs, that one particular night for example when I tore pages out of a notebook and took pictures of it to validate my anger. Then there was that long walk in the middle of the night without really knowing where I was going. There was a period of time during that walk in the neighborhood when I played this song in my ears, and then the wave of emotions that came over me. Little things like that, you know, and all of this from a button away.

I was on my way home just now after a long conversation with some friends, and the song Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy came up in my ears. It used to be a perfect song for that period of time, a song that represented that painful agony right after the breakup. It used to, but it doesn't anymore. It's interesting how certain songs lose their grip on you, contrary to how they choked you up in the past. That song used to be a kind of anthem for me, a song played on repeat because of the relevance it had in my life. Now that I am happily attached to somebody, though, the song hardly mattered anymore. I still love that song, and I still think it was beautifully written. But it doesn't represent any part of my life right now, and the realism is gone now. Other songs have a better luck at being attached to a brand new set of memories that are completely different from how they were back then. 9 Crimes and Rootless Tree, for example, were two songs that gained a lot of play on my iTunes last time. Rootless Tree, in particular, is an angst charged song with the words "Fuck You" probably repeated about thirty times or something. To think that it is coming from someone like Damien Rice, you know that it is only natural for his love songs about heartbreak to be charged with anger and frustration.

Yet, Rootless Tree has been replaced by the image of Neptina punching people, for some reason. She has recently taken a liking to that song, and she tells me that it is her battle song somehow. So I picture her punching people with the song in the background, and gone are the images of the past. 9 Crimes, too, has receive a similar treatment of sorts, with the past replaced by the image of Neptina playing the song on her keyboard with those colorful buttons. It was one of the first few songs she actually learned on her own on the keyboard, and I remember the image of her practicing on the keys to the video tutorial on YouTube that afternoon one day. So we have meanings being replaced by meanings in songs, interpretations changed by circumstances, and some memories becoming completely lost in the process. It is somewhat ruthless at times, but that is the dynamics of songs, or music, that I love and hold so dearly. It is beautiful, how the same song can represent different things to so many people, much like how a poetry could be interpreted differently without a definite and correct answer. Every song speaks to me somehow, and it brings to me memories related to the people that mattered in the past or matters right now.

Somebody Told Me by The Killers reminds me of Neptina because we used to bang our heads to this song. I'm not sure how we figured out that it is the anthem for us to go crazy to, but we have done it so many times that it has become a routine. Like, if one of us decides to play the song, the other would automatically go crazy and start dancing around the room. I remember this time when we Skyped to this song, and the both of us went absolutely crazy because, well, I don't really know why. Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez reminds me of how it feels like to be with her, delicate moments that'd be blown away by a sudden gush of wind. It is the progressiveness in the song, the peace in his voice that takes me to my happy place with her. It isn't a song that she has heard before, or a song that she particularly fancies. But to me, it reminds me of the feelings evoked when I meet her in a MRT station, at the front door, or wherever we decide to meet. It's just such a beautiful song that I cannot help but picture her in her red Snorg Tee, holding that yellow balloon and standing in the platform of a train station. I'd approach the balloon with my phone all over again, and then brush the balloon aside to reveal her smiling face staring straight back at me.

Yeah, songs do that to me at times. To be in a different place at a different time, over and over again, with the same special person.

Reserved Seats

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Reserved Seats

In an effort to make our MRT stations more friendly to the masses, the authorities have went to great length to really increase the accessibility of these places around Singapore, and I think they have done a very good job. A very honest confession here, I think the whole MRT system is probably one of the best things in Singapore, and I do applaud the government in regards to that. I mean, I have an underground train station right outside my house, what else do I have to complain about? They really make the effort to make things as convenient as possible for everybody out there, and that includes the needy in our society. If you are old or have any forms of physical disabilities, the MRT station is going to be a very friendly place to you. In fact, I am not sure if there are friendlier places in Singapore, because they have demarkations everywhere in a single station. You have those little metal bumps on elevator buttons, those special tiles on the grounds to direct you to places, and not to mention those reserved seats on trains everywhere. It is easy to get around even if you are deaf or blind, or both at the very same time. The MRT is really the last thing you need to worry about outside your home, because I think they have done a great job.

Have you noticed, though, that the government has recently changed the name of the priorities seats to the reserved seats? If I am not wrong, those seats were previously called the "priority seats", until they recently changed it to the "reserved seats". Apparently, in the past, nobody really bothered about the priority seats, and they sat on them despite signs being pasted everywhere for all to see anyway. So they added cartoon pictures of the old and needy above these seats, but that did not deter the young and able-bodied people from taking over these priority seats either. They probably saw the word "priority" and assumed that they were prioritized, for some reason. The word "priority" really wasn't specific enough, and it's not like the stickmen in the pictures helped very much at all at identifying who is who. Let's admit it, the general population are incredibly stupid, and half of those people are stupid because they are ignorant. They ignored most of these signs, and would even remain in their seats when the really old and the really needy members of the public board the trains. There are various strategies involved in the cunning use of the priority seats, something which I shall elaborate later.

Anyway, so they have changed the name from "priority seats" to "reserved seats", an attempt to make more people feel uncomfortable in sitting there I suppose. I know, it really is just a play with words, but it goes a long way if you are studying political communication just like me. Words matter, and it goes a long way in persuading people to do what you want them to do. Anyway, calling it a "reserved" seat seems to give people an idea that that seat is meant for somebody else and not you. I mean, if you reserved something, you'd obviously know about it right. So if you were never actually informed that there are seats on a train reserved for you, even the dumbest human being would assume that it is reserved for somebody else. It is different from the word "priority", because you could be high on a priority list without you actually knowing it, so you naturally assume that it is you. It is clever, and even more clever that they have now pasted the words "reserved seats" on the chair itself. In the past, the words "priority seats" were pasted on top of the seats and on the wall, and people simply sat down and cared little. However, by pasting it on the chair itself, you are going to feel somewhat uncomfortable if you are not actually old or needy. It's kind like the feeling of hanging a wet towel right in front of your face. It's not really harming you, but you can't help but want to shift your face away.

The fact that the words are on a sticker behind your back when you are not supposed to be there, that is some of the cleverest things that I have observed in the public. I have no numbers to say whether or not this has worked, but at least the attempt has caught my attention, and I think it is a clever move. And, as much as you hate the sitcom characters being plastered all over our trains and buses, you have to applaud whoever that came up with the idea of pasting one of them right next to every reserved seat on the train. On the windows next to every reserved seat is the picture of a famous local sitcom character, with his hands pointing at the seat and telling people to give it up to the people who really need it more than you do. I think to have this more direct and personal touch, people may just give up their seats more often to the really old and the really needy. These are just some of the little things that I have observed over the past couple of weeks on the Circle Line that the authorities have done, and I dearly hope that it is going to work this time around. I mean, I have taken the train in Japan and Taiwan, and you really need to see it to believe it over there. Even on public trains, people there are well-mannered and polite. You have a handful of people giving up their seats simultaneously for one single old man, and I saw that with my own eyes!

Anyway, despite all these efforts, you still see people sitting on the reserved seats and not being able to care less for the most part. It just seems like an impossible habit to shake off, you know, to grab the first available seat when you see one. I, personally, feel uncomfortable when I sit there, and I'd certainly give my seat to someone in much more need than myself, unless I have a particularly bad headache or something like that. Anyway, people still sit in these reserved seats, and they sometimes pretend to not see the really old and the really needy. Like, there'd be a few old people standing with their hands on the railings, and you'd see a bunch of young people taking up the reserved seats and pretending not to see the old people. It's amazing how they could just sit there and not feel the words burning holes into their backs somehow. Like I said, maybe the new designs will really knock some sense into these inconsiderate bigots. At any rate, they have employed various methods to evade their responsibilities of giving up seats to the needy. You and I have seen these tactics in play under public scrutiny, tactics so bad that they are as good as trying to hide yourself under a brick in broad daylight while playing hide and seek.

The first thing that many of them do would be to fall asleep, even if they are not really asleep. You know, if a needy person is standing right in front of you, you should naturally give up your seat. For those who choose not to, they'd probably pretend to sleep with their heads bowed low right at the moment when somebody needy comes through the doors. It is automatic, and it requires little to no practice at all. The sight of the needy is like some kinda cue that snaps them out of consciousness, and their necks will suddenly go limp at that very moment. Most of the time, if you see some poor old lady standing in the train with a young man in the reserved seat, he is probably sleeping. The funny thing is always how he is able to control his swaying when he is sleeping, and how he promptly wakes up when he is about to get off the train. He'd also wake up periodically to check if the old person is still in front of him, and then he'd go right back to sleep when the old person is still there. And, of course, he will never ever go back to sleep once the old person gets off the train, because he can enjoy the seat all by himself from then on. That's the way it works around the train, and you see that happening all the time.

Then there are the people who'd be busy on their handheld gaming devices. Whether or not you are on a Ninetendo DS or a PSP, the lure of an empty seat is usually too great for you give up your seat to anyone. So they'd be focusing so hard on the game at hand that they'd zone everything around them out. I remember standing right next to a reserved seat once behind the glass and watching a guy play with his PSP when an old man came and stood right in front of him on the crowded bus. He kept on playing his game for the most part and didn't bother looking up throughout the game. Then, of course, his character died after failing a jump at a cavern, but his fingers continued to press the button furiously even throughout the loading screen. His eyes also continued to focus on the screen with a frown forming in between his eyebrows, as if the game has just suddenly gotten really intense and it requires all his focus and attention. He just didn't want to give up his seat to the old man, and he just pretended to be really distracted by the game when he clearly ignored the man altogether. Besides, the old man smelled funny, and I am sure the kid would have noticed that even if he was on the game itself.

Sometimes, though, you cannot actually blame people for sitting there. I mean, I totally think that it is OK to sit in a reserved seat when nobody is actually in need of it. It's about giving that seat up for someone who really needs it, and that's the most important part of it all. However, there are times when I am on the train, and I cannot figure out if somebody is in need or not. There was this woman on the train that I met with Neptina, and she was standing right in front of us on the way to Pasir Ris. She looked like she was in her early forties I'd say, or at least late thirties. She was wearing a cardigan, and a dress inside that went down to her knees. She looked like an ordinary middle-aged lady, save for the fact that she had a bulging stomach that stuck out not quite big enough to be a pregnant woman's belly, but big enough for us to all notice it. I wasn't exactly sure if she was pregnant or not, and I debated with Neptina for a long time over this. There were seats around her that were clearly available for a while, but for some reason she didn't seem like she noticed any of them until the one next to us presented itself. She looked way too old to be pregnant, and the way that she stood didn't look like she was pregnant either. However, she did have a belly, and it stuck out and sunk deep in her dress that I could not help but ask myself if I should give up my seat.

I didn't, in the end, because she found a seat for herself. I think it was the right decision to remain mum about it, because I really don't want to experience those awkward moments when I accuse someone of being pregnant when they are just fat around the waist. It happened to a friend of a friend before, and I wasn't ready to test my luck at all. I mean, some woman are obviously pregnant, and there are a lot of symptoms you can visually see to tell. But that particularly woman, and that curious looking stomach of hers, it really caused me to fall into an internal conflict over that matter. I tried to picture myself apologizing to her a million times, and that look on her face when she realizes that I was accusing her of being fat. That is also why I say that woman should have a different way of telling others that they are pregnant, something distinct so that everybody else knows. I am sure girls are frustrated by the fact that pregnancy symptoms are very much similar to menstrual symptoms, and it becomes very difficult to tell until the blood comes along. I think women should have their left ears turn blue when they are pregnant or something, just so that people like me will not be confused over a overly bulging stomach.

Anyway, and as for those inconsiderate bigots that I have mentioned, perhaps a stricter measure needs to be in place. We need to have even more arrows pointing at the reserved seats to indicate that they are actually reserved seats. On top of that, the seat needs to be of a different color, and completely plastered with the words "reserved seats". It is not very nice on the eyes, but I think that will be more effective than what we have right now. Also, on top of the seat, there could be a sign that reads "Is this person sitting in the reserved seat right now a person who actually needs it? If not, stare at him accusingly" or something like that. Or, something a little more rough around the edges: If you not someone who actually needs that seat, get the hell out of it. In fact, we should encourage the other passengers to pull inconsiderate people out of these seats. Every inconsiderate bigot pulled out of a reserved seat is going to grant you twenty cents off your travel expenses for that particular trip. And, since everything is being taped on our trains, it is not possible for people making it up. Or, equip fellow passengers with clubs, and you will be able to club inconsiderate idiots when they do not give up their seats. I am pretty sure people will start giving up seats happily. And yes, Gurmit Singh, this is how a happy journey starts - passengers with clubs, waiting for the next inconsiderate bigot to bash for the sake of the needy.

Improv Everywhere

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Improv Everywhere

I like anything that makes me feel good about humanity,

Even if it is something completely out of spontaneity.

This is why Singapore needs just a little bit more than this.

Idle

Idle

You must be an idiot, you have to be. You have to be that mentally incapable to not notice something as obvious as the weather these days. Any conspiracy theorists who think that global warming does not exist, they really don't need to go as far as visiting the Aral Sea to know that our planet is in serious peril, and we all contributed to it one way or another. Just pay a visit to Singapore, a metropolitan country with the finest in almost every aspect of life. Even in a country like that, you'd be able to feel the punch of global warming right in your guts, because it is something that the locals - such as myself - have to go through on a daily basis. The idea of going out of the house sends a chill down all our spines whenever we contemplate it. Oh, actually a chill sent down our spine would be rather refreshing, considering how everything feels like it has been to Hell and back. The idea turns us off, and the people who can actually drive are not spared either. Just try parking your car out in the sun for three hours, and jump right back in after a long day's work. Leaving the windows down doesn't help, because the leather of the seat is burning into your butt as you are driving, killing massive amounts of skin cells and sperm.

It has been crazy hot - not, stupid hot. It is so hot that it has turned many of us stupid somehow, and it is all somehow lead to global warming, I reckon. I remember rainstorms in the past lasting for a full week continuously. If you tell somebody about such a phenomenon, he or she is going to think that you just came back from a rainforest or something. Hell, even rainforest don't receive that much rain anymore, and they really should be renamed to "usedtorainforest", or something. It is so hot that you feel like breaking something, or go skinny dipping in a frozen lake or something. It is also so hot that you feel like injecting coolants into your skin just to keep cool for about five seconds. Soft drinks are not working either, and ice cream melts the moment they hit sun. Nothing works under the might of the sun, and I wonder if somebody has accidentally touched a button that sent the Earth's course of orbit ten miles closer to the sun or something. It is stupid hot these days, and that is the best reason to want to stay indoors and not go on out. If you are sitting at home and sweating your brains out, you know you want to stay at home because going out is suicide.

I've been warming up to the idea of staying at home because of the prospect of going out scares me. Just imagine yourself all dressed up for an occasion, and it doesn't even have to be something major either. Just a big of styling in the hair, make-up for the ladies, and everything is refreshing after a good long bath in the morning. But just think about the five minute walk you are going to take to the nearest MRT station, and the amount of perspiration that is going to be involved. By the time you meet your date, half of your efforts would have melted away in the sun, and I do wonder how those people who have underwent plastic surgery are supposed to be coping in a weather as screwed up as this. They are probably traveling around in portable fridges now or something, wheels fixed onto the bottom of fridges and pushed around by their maids or something. This weather calls for a movement on a national scale, and that is for everybody to stay at home. There aren't a lot of negative points about doing that, if you think about it. Staying at home allows you to save money, because you won't have to spend anything outside. Food is a great expenditure, not to mention the traveling involved. You get to spend some time with your family members, and your home is really all you need with the availability of computers in most households in Singapore. If nothing else, you can do what I did for a full hour today in bed - idle.

Yes. I spent an hour of this afternoon lying in bed and idling. It began with a strange stomachache this morning at nine that didn't fully go away until nature called a few hours later. I wasn't able to fall back to sleep, so I stayed awake and minded my own business around the house for the most part. By lunchtime, I was already drifting off because I slept late last night, not to mention the somewhat creepy dream of being trapped in a room I desperately wanted to get out of. So I took a short nap, and even that dream involved an annoying chef at a restaurant asking me to go look for lotus roots in a set of shelves behind me. Anyway, I woke up at about three in the afternoon, and I pretty much spent the next hour just laying there in bed and replying to Neptina's message on the phone. While she's out with her family at the PC Show, I remained in bed and pretty much spent the hour doing absolutely nothing. The reason being is really because of the weather outside, and how the radiation must have found its way to the interiors. Even walking around the house is enough to induce an annoying amount of perspiration on your back and in my armpits. That was why I resorted to just laying still for a while, and I pretended to be a dead body or a kidnapping victim for a while. I am weird like that.

Within this hour, I did a great many things by doing not much. I did a lot of things that I used to do when I was a child, waking up on a Sunday morning and refusing to get off the bed. At one point, I stuffed my head underneath the pillow and pressed my left ear to the bed and tried to listen out for distant vibrations. You know, like the closing of doors by the neighbors downstairs or the shuffling of feet around my house. You know how sound travels, and that is what I did for a while. I didn't really hear much, but it was still fun to do something I haven't done in a long time anyway. Then I went on to play with my eyes by opening and closing each eye one at a time. You know how it is, when you close one eye and open the other, the view is different from when you close the other eye and open this one. The surface of the pillow rose and sank with every wink, and I thought it was really cool how our brain has the ability to put two separate images registered by two separate eyeballs into one single image. I played with that for a while, and then I went on to rubbing my eyes just to see those bright spots in the darkness of my eyelids. They'd sparkle for a while, float upwards and then down, and then disappear completely into the darkness - what the hell are those?

Anyway, I think it's fun to idle for a while sometimes. You know, let your mind rest for a while. I'm not sure if it is possible for our brain to be not thinking about something at any moment in time. Like, when you are trying to think about nothing, aren't you also thinking about something at the very same time? What we can control, however, is how much we think about, and I think idling is the least amount of information you can process during your waking hours. Your brain rests, and you aren't thinking very much for the most part. There is art even in zoning out, and I like engaging myself that way at times. I love lying around in bed and doing absolutely nothing every once in a while, because it reminds me of childhood, those days with as much responsibilities as a hamster in a cage. Especially on days like that when it is either blistering hot or ridiculously wet (a storm is gathering outside right now), this is the perfect time to pick a bed and do nothing on it for a while. It is not something out of laziness, but it's just that there isn't a rule to tell us that we have to be doing something productive every minute of the day. Sometimes, you can rot away and waste time, because it is ultimately our time and not anybody else's.