Just in case. If we ever say something stupid, please note that said stupidity is ours, and ours alone. Our stupidity! You can’t have it!
//Friday, May 29, 2009 10:10 PM
Sweet Spots
Today, I am going to introduce 3, and only 3, skate spots. They are all special, and they all deserve love and care. When I can be bothered, and when these evil exams end, I will review more spots.
Skate Spot 1: Dhoby Ghaut
DG, for me, is one of the best skate spots in Singapore. Apart from never-ending marble ledges, fantastically smooth flat land, and a superb run-up on a 5-set, it has played host to some of the top talents in SG. I remember the old school kings like Andy, Suhaimi, Saiful, and Wan. There were, of course, Mel, Gary, and gang as well, and it always amused me how Mel would park his Benz on the hill overlooking DG. When the cops dropped by, he would calmly walk to his car and drive off. Everyone else, on the other hand, would be scaling bushes, darting madly between traffic, and running either to Park Mall or Plaza Singapura. Most of my early skating happened here, and the memories are simply super.
Skate Spot 2: Parkway
This is the apotheosis of skate spots. Trees and bushes provide shade, while Ali’s convenience store nearby provides drinks (and on occasion, free beer and ice cream). Ledges used to be perfect, but have since grown increasingly chipped and grind-unfriendly. There are (i) pseudo-launch ramps, (ii) slightly short marble benches, (iii) sets of stairs, and (iv) long, snaking flat land for non-stop S-K-A-T-E battles. At the risk of sounding syrupy, this is where Ken, JT, and I first met. We still love it with all our hearts.
Skate Spot 3: Oasis
Tucked away in a little spot next to the river, Oasis is great for an idyllic day out. But due to the somewhat inaccessible location, cars are definitely required. I am not a huge fan of Oasis, largely because the tiled floor makes flat land tricks horribly difficult, but this is the spot where great things have been achieved over the years. Shafiq and his frontside pop shove to 5050 and backside pop shove out come to mind. And how can anyone forget John’s famous kickflip down the 8-set? Now that Kallang Leisure Park has one of the best arcades in the East, there’s even more reason to chill there.
Class 95 had their finals for the Fearless Fun Females last night at Zirca, being close friends with the organizers we naturally got invited to this event. Some highlights of the event were professional pole-dancers and a lingerie fashion show, some hunks from Polo Boys with in-your-face-abs and of course Free Flow.
Friday morning, Justin and me were deciding what we were going to do when we received news of the Class 95 party. Not knowing what competition it was we readily agreed, as we haven’t got a definitive plan. In actual fact, our decisions were settled on the backs of 2 words, Free and Flow, and when these 2 words are put together, we don’t need more information about the event. Hell, we could even be lured into the gallows with the promise of free booze, in this sense we’re not traditional Alcoholics, we’re Alco-whores.
The free flow was from 7-9pm so we made plans to meet at 7.15, I was to pick Justin up from his office before we head down to meet Denny, Chloe and Eunice. Justin was held back at work so he only managed to get into my car at 7.35pm. With heavy traffic we estimated our arrival to be at 8pm, leaving us only one hour left of free flow.
Justin: Wah jialat one hour left. Me: Yah man every minute counts dude. Justin: We need to do it intensively, one hour of non-stop drinking. Me: Doesn’t sound like a problem. Justin: Yeah Let’s Do It! Me: Haha I haven’t had dinner so I will get high faster than you. Justin: I also haven’t had Dinner! Together: Yeah man we’re gonna get drunk!!! (We could never be more wrong)
Justin managed to secure us with VIP passes allowing us to be seated and served within the VIP zone of Zirca. We were told that the common area’s free flow was only limited to Bacardi Breezers while the VIP area’s free flow was open to your choice.
Waiter: Do you guys want Vodka or Bacardi? Denny: What mixers do you have? Waiter: Anything you choose. Denny: Ok get us some Bacardi with Lime. Waiter: Ok so one bottle of Bacardi. Denny: Huh no we never order a bottle. Waiter: No the bottles are free flow. Denny: Ohh… ok then one bottle.
We must have died and gone to alcohol heaven because never before have we heard of free flows by the bottle. We were busy high-fiving each other when the bottle was served up and we wasted no time chugging down the first glass. With only 5 of us we thought we could at least hold out with one bottle up till 9pm before heading out. By 8.30pm we were almost done with the bottle, it shocks us how fast we were working through the bottle. Feeling the effects of the Bacardi, we decided to head out for a cigarette while asking the waiter to hold our tables.
Justin: This is crazy man I’m quite high already. Me: Me too man, I feel damn hungry. Denny: Our bottles going to finish already after this we go McDonalds. Me: That sounds good man, I’m gonna die soon.
When we made our way back to the table we realized that our bottle had been switched. WE WERE GIVEN ANOTHER NEW BOTTLE OF BACARDI.
Justin: Nabe new bottle leh. Me: HAHAHAHAHAHA Denny: This is the BEST free flow dudes. Chloe: Kenny you should have made the lanyards. Me: Fuck lanyards let’s get drunk!
By this point we were totally ignoring the activities on the stage instead our focus was on the alcohols. We slowly worked through our bottle feeling the room slowly begins to spin more.
Waiter: Guys you have to return the unfinished bottles at 9pm. Denny: Huh? Waiter: Yah it’s the policy. Denny: Oh ok.
We decided to pour whatever remaining alcohol there is into the jugs of limejuice before returning the bottle. The night was getting crazier, it was only 9pm and we were already fucking high. In the course of 1 hour we finished 2 bottles of Bacardi, we had set a new record for ourselves.
I don’t remember what time we made it out of Zirca, or what I had at McDonalds but I remember shouting songs in the car with Justin as we made our way to Zouk to meet up with Beng, Wallace, and Ari. Beng bought 2 jugs of e33, the carbonated mixture went into my stomach and immediately threatened to come back up. I was feeling sick and I knew I was going to puke real soon. posted by Ken The Man at
11:03 AM
//Friday, May 15, 2009 11:38 AM
Thing that go Bump in the Night
Stories and movies about the supernatural never cease to scare the shit out of us when we are kids. When I was young, I love horror movies; my mom would rent or buy all the latest horror movies for me to watch. I had the complete collection of “True Singapore Ghost Stories” of which some had been read twice. I was a horror buff, I didn’t dare close my eyes at night, I needed constant companion, and thank God I outgrew that stage.
When we grow older, we begin to realize that movies are fictional and “True Singapore Ghost Stories” are fantasies paraded in easy English. This made us go to sleep easier, we fear the unknown less and less and some of us reach the stage of Nirvana denouncing the existence of Ghosts, Demons and restless spirits. I was glad to have reached this stage, and then came Muhd (Pronounced Mud). I met Muhd when I was working part time at Coffee Bean Parkway after my ‘O’ Levels. Muhd was already a senior crew by the time I joined, we hit it off from the start because we both skate and we love Nirvana. Muhd very quickly became part of our group due to his friendly and unassuming nature, he became a regular at our skate sessions and became fast friends with Kurt and John. Muhd was a devout Muslim, during his fasting months he would still skate as hard but refuse to drink any liquids or consume any food. Everything about Muhd was magnetic, from his cheerful personality, to his strict religious views; his out of hand gastric issues, all except that, Muhd had the ‘Third Eye’.
This was something I learnt one night while both of us were performing our ‘Closing Routine’ after work. It was around 12.30am and we had just washed and scrubbed the floors when Muhd asked me to accompany him to the main rubbish bin. The main bin was located in a dark alley behind Parkway, a place so dirty it had to be hidden from public view. The path leading towards the bin was laden with bushes and huge trees on either sides obstructing ambient lighting casting an ominous mood over the pathway.
I was just getting ready to scrub the kitchen counter when Muhd made his request, but I obliged seeing that I myself wouldn’t want to make that journey all alone at a time like that. We were chatting about random stuff on our way to the bin when I heard some rustling of leaves. I thought nothing of it attributing the sounds to the wind but Muhd started to feel uneasy. His face grew pale as he hurried me along. This was a reaction we would later learn to associate with something supernatural in our surrounding.
Not knowing anything, I hurried along beside him and when we reached the bin, he swiftly flung the trash bag into the container before mumbling something under his breath. I thought he was saying something to me so I asked him:
Me: What did you say? Muhd: Ssshhhhh….. Me: What’s wrong with you dude? Muhd: Just shut up and follow me! Me: Ooookkkk…. Muhd: And keep your eyes on the path, Don't look anywhere else.
We hurried back to Coffee Bean in a half jog, the leaves seemed to be rustling louder on our way back and I began to realize it didn’t sound like it was caused by the wind. It was a windless night but the leaves on both sides appear to be shaking from the branches, and it appeared to be following us. We would pass from tree to tree and the rustling would always occur at the specific points above our heads.
We went along our usual closing routine in total silence before grabbing our boards and proceeding to our usual skate spot. I began to question Muhd’s earlier behavior; initially he refused to say anything only attributing his urgency to his bladder. We continued skating into the night before going home at 3am.
The next day Muhd called me and explained his strange behavior. He told me that he was born with the ‘Third Eye’ and was able to sense and see supernatural beings from a very young age. On further questioning he revealed that the night before when he was walking towards the bin, he started to feel uneasy so he decided to ask me along with him. He always knew something was wrong with that path but has never seen anything. When he first heard the rustling leaves he looked around but wasn’t able to see anything out of the ordinary so he ignored it. As we proceeded further he heard a “Pssstt” sound, like someone trying to get our attentions. He looked up from where the sound emanated and saw a lady with long black hair squatting on the tree branches trying to get our attention. When she saw that Muhd could see her she started to follow us with increased vigour, she would jump from tree to tree with her white dress flowing in the wind trying to get both our attentions. Muhd ignored her, which served to fuel her anger more. She tried harder to get our attentions jumping on the tree branches causing the leaves to rustle harder and louder even screaming bloodcurdlingly to get us to look up at her.
I didn’t hear or sense anything but when he told me this, my balls retreated back into my body and my hair stood on its ends. I didn’t know how to react and felt like I was going to choke on my own saliva. Muhd said she didn’t follow us anymore when we reached Coffee Bean and I told him, “Next time don’t tell me anything!”
As Kurt, Muhd, John and me started to skate more and more at night, we encountered more and more strange things. Strange things just seem to happen more around Muhd, but he explained that they are everywhere; we were just insensitive to their presence. There was another night when Kurt, Muhd and me were skating behind Roxy Square where we had found a discarded steel foundation thingy, which we had converted into a grind-box. We were going at it with gusto because the steel was so smooth we were able to pull off any tricks, Kurt even managed to do a Feeble Grind along the entire length of the rail. We began to perform crazier and crazier tricks trying to experiment with anything that would be tougher on a regular surface.
The sounds of our boards and laughter echoed off the walls of the old shopping complex but we continued doing our thing ignorant to the surroundings. Just when we were all psyched up, Muhd made us stop skating, by this time we have learnt that when Muhd says to leave, we should do so without question. We picked our stuff up and Muhd hurried us along, it was a long journey back to the convenience shop and we were quickening our paces in synchrony with Muhd’s stride. It is really scary when you can’t see or hear what you are running away from and Kurt and me trudged along in silence with boards under our arms. Just then Muhd shouted to us, “RUN!!!” not knowing what to do, Kurt and me started to sprint towards the convenience store.
After making sure that we were not being followed, Muhd settled down and we got ourselves something to drink. Muhd started to reveal that our actions had disturbed some of the spirits residing there and they wanted to teach us a lesson. We know that by this, Muhd meant they would push us while we’re skating to cause us to fall after one particular night at Oasis filled with injuries and disappointment. He said he saw a female spirit standing under a small tree right next to where we were skating, staring at us with hatred and anger and that was why he made us leave. On our way back the ‘thing’ started to follow us from a distance but very quickly closed up the gap between and that was also why he made us run.
After getting home I showered and prepared to got to bed when I received an SMS from Muhd which simply said, “It followed me home”. After which I slept with my head under the blanket while blasting my iPod so I wouldn’t be able to hear anything praying that nothing followed me home. I don’t remember sleeping well that night.
Muhd was a very close friend of mine and would regularly visit my home for dinner or just to chill and play games on my PS2. But, Muhd had always warned me there was something wrong with my house. He said he saw a lady in white once standing right beside John staring at him, while we were sitting in the living room playing games but he chose not to mention it as he didn’t think she would harm us.
Once when Muhd came over for dinner, my mum randomly mentioned that she was having a recurring bad dream for the past few nights. She would dream of herself waking up to find her room filled with young children running and playing around accompanied with a lady. She was never able to see the lady’s face, as she would just stand motionless among the children with her back turned away. Muhd decided to investigate the matter, Muhd’s uncle was a medicine man or a ‘Bomoh’ and he learns a lot from his uncle and is able to perform simple rituals for people.
Muhd went into my mom’s room and said he sensed something, he made me accompany him in the room alone much to my whining and protests. With the lights switched off we sat down in the middle of the room. Muhd had his eyes closed in silent prayer, and me, not wanting to see anything strange closed my eyes too. After a few minutes of total silence Muhd said, “It’s in the mirror!” he said while he was chanting his prayers he sensed something rush past behind him heading straight into the mirror. He explained to me those mirrors are often a gateway between our dimension and theirs’ so it’s not uncommon for it to run into the mirror. My mom had a huge freestanding swivel mirror with gold frame in her room, which she kept in a corner facing her when she sleeps.
He got a white bed-sheet from my maid to cover the mirror while he again sat down in front of the mirror chanting some prayer lines. I stood beside him in absolute shock and fear not knowing what to do. After a long line of verses Muhd made a ‘pushing’ move with one hand at the mirror, what scared me more was that I actually saw the mirror shake when he did that move. Muhd was sitted in such a way that even with his hands outstretched he couldn’t have touched the mirror, but I could swear I saw the mirror shaking.
After about 15mins in the darkness I was relieved to hear Muhd say that it was done. I rushed out of the room to get myself something to drink with my hands still shaking. Muhd revealed to my mum that there was a lady living ‘in’ her mirror and she was the one causing all the trouble in our house. Muhd said she wouldn’t bother us anymore because he had ‘burned’ her and advised my mum to cover the mirror with a white cloth at night.
Muhd proved my theories about the supernatural to be all wrong, I had outgrown the phase where sounds in the night scare the hell out of me but Muhd gave me enough reason to question again those nocturnal sounds.
That is the general response I receive when I explain to people the condition of Grandpa. It is with this thought that sets my mind at ease. If there was any definition for the term “Ripe Old Age” it has to be the age Grandpa is at. Having gone through 87 years of life, Grandpa must have accumulated a myriad of memorable stories about his life. WW2 alone must be worth at least 1 week of storytelling. The thing is, we never bothered to sit down with Grandpa for him to share his stories or never asked for his advice or guidance on any matter. As such, his stories will never be passed along down the family tree.
It’s funny how when you look back, you start to recall so many opportunities that we could have gone, “Ah Gong, what happened to you during WW2?” But it never happened…. posted by Ken The Man at
12:56 PM
//Wednesday, May 13, 2009 8:29 PM
Qi - by Shawn Chua
This vid was made by our man Shawn Chua. It's for some competition, and I think it has got to do with some Arts Festival Thing. (Shawn, apologies for that.)
So please show your love, and vote for this vid. The polls open on 15th May and ends on the 26th.
Many things in life incite different forms of emotions, as we grow we learn to react to different events with a dynamic set of emotions. We do not need to learn how to feel happy or when to feel sad. When another kid snatches your ball away, you do not need anyone to tell you, “You should be angry now”, it comes naturally and even if you do not know what being angry means, it doesn’t stop you from feeling so.
Then again there are events in life, which, no matter how many times it happens, you never learn to deal with it in the right way. A set of events defying all pre-established norms. An anomaly on the unblemished surface of our emotional resume.
Old age and death is a natural transition interweaving between our lives, a common trait you share with the stranger beside you on the train.
Often times, it is with the benefit of hindsight that you come to realize how big an impact someone has been on your development. You start to wonder how you might have turned out without their guidance or advice. Would you be better of, or would your path become skewed.
The reason for this post is my Grandfather. He is 87 this year, no longer the authoritative figure we have grown up with, no longer able to shuttle between Singapore and Indonesia on his own and no longer able to chase me around trying to knock my head with his knuckles. Instead he now requires an aide to hold onto him as he makes his daily commute from his room into the living room or the kitchen. The aide my mom hired for him is Indonesian, the only other language my Grandfather is proficient in, and her job is to watch over him and attend to his needs at all times of the day.
But no matter how careful you are with an elderly person, accidents can always happen. Last Tuesday, while on his way to the Kitchen, the Aide turned away for a few seconds and my Grandfather fell. He apparently fell forward hitting the right side of his head on the bedpost causing a large bruise over the surrounding area. Seeing that he was conscious and able to walk back to his bed, my family decided to let the matter rest.
The next day, when I came home from work, my mom told me of the accident. I asked her how he is doing now and my auntie, who had been listening, replied that he hadn’t gotten out of bed the whole day. I decided to investigate the matter seeing that a reduced sate of consciousness is not a good sign as it may indicate other complications such as head injury or a concussion. When I went to see him, I saw a big swollen area over his right eye, and noticed that the right was tearing. I looked around the head for any other signs of bruising when I saw a patch of purplish bruises behind his right ear. I looked at the other ear and noticed the same bruising.
I knew immediately these were Battle’s Signs. Named after William Henry Battle, Battle's sign, also known as mastoid ecchymosis in medical terminolgy, is an indication of a fracture of the base of the posterior portion of the skull and may suggest underlying brain trauma. It consists of bruising immediately behind the ears. Another common bruising sign of a skull injury is raccoon eyes, the purplish discoloration around the eyes following fracture of the frontal portion of the skull base. But since my Grandfather suffered blunt force trauma to the region around his eye, I ruled the bruising under his eye to the immediate effects of the trauma.
I notified my family of this discovery and alerted them to the seriousness of the matter at hand now. I explained to them the complications that could arise from a brain injury stressing on words such as Brain Death and Aneurysm. I told them I have seen such signs before on patients of Road Traffic Accidents and other cases where major head trauma was sustained. I advised them it was definitely a good idea to at least have the injury checked out while highlighting the bruises behind his ears.
My Grandfather was taken to Mount Elizabeth hospital on Wednesday night for an X-Ray. A decision, which I protested. Private Hospitals do not have doctors on standby in their A&Es thus not being able to provide emergency care for my Grandfather. The family however, were against the idea of sending him to a government hospital citing long waiting periods, poor ward conditions and since Grandpa was an Indonesian citizen, he wouldn’t receive any government subsidy anyway. Even after explaining that the Ambulance service (which I am VERY familiar with) will send Grandpa directly into the A&E immediately handing over the case to the doctors (no waiting time), they were still adamant on their decision.
Auntie 1: Wah must call Ambulance ah Auntie 2: Wah dowan lah later Police also will come Me: The Police come for what? Auntie 1: Not so serious lah no need ambulance lah Me: Ah Kong’s condition is serious Auntie 2: Choy! Don’t anyhow say!
After much argument I could only bite back tears as I watched my Grandpa being wheeled into the A&E of Mt Elizabeth Hospital. As my aunties were with him I was asked to return home to await news since I had to study for an exam on Friday. Part of me wanted to scream at my aunties while the other part forced me to control my emotions. I knew full well the futility of my argument. After all who did I think I was, I was only a Medic during NS, all the medical knowledge and experience I had gathered were only from my 6 months of intensive lectures and 1 and a half-year of public service. I did not have the right to diagnose my Grandfather.
I went back with dread in my heart, the kind of dread that restricts you from doing anything else. I sit in XM’s living room trying my best to study but the words in front of me continued to make no sense. My mind was flustered, eagerly awaiting news from my aunties. Images of Grandpa sitting me down and making me repeat his sentences in Malay, and of him showing me the right way of eating rice with my hands, how he would knock my head if I used the wrong hand flashed through my mind like sadistic picture cards.
My phone rang at 1am, my mum informed me that the X-ray results turned out ok and Grandpa was on his way home. I was relieved at my own misdiagnosis and glad that everything turned out well.
The next day, the family had a meeting at my place, seeing that Grandpa’s condition hasn’t changed much, they decided to bring him to another specialist at Mt. Elizabeth Hospital. This time a CT Scan was to be performed, which will prominently display any irregularities associated with the injury. My diagnosis from the previous day came back to haunt me, I realized that an X-ray will not be sufficient to show any anomalies in the head. For a head injury to be confirmed a CT Scan needs to be performed.
The results were released the very same day. Just as I had thought Grandpa did sustain injury to his brain thereby causing the Battle Signs to appear. There was bleeding in his brain, and the some of the blood had coagulated forming a major blood clot in his skull. At his age the doctors advised against open brain surgery, a procedure that is risky even when performed on a healthy teenager. Statistics wise, the doctor had quoted a 30% chance of survival from the procedure. There was nothing much the doctors could do.
An emergency family meeting was held, filled with tears and regrets. I wanted to say out loud, “I told you so!” but restrained myself. I don’t see any point adding insult to injury besides even if we had sent him to the A&E of Changi General immediately, there was doubt that anything could have been done. The only thing to do now was to stay with my family throughout these difficult times. It was decided that Grandpa should be discharged letting him spend his final days with loved ones. Even though he is in a coma now a part of us thinks he knows we are beside him, holding his hands. posted by Ken The Man at
4:29 PM
//Saturday, May 9, 2009 11:38 PM
Hollorado
This video was flagged up by James Green, who is currently working on a dissertation on skateboarding.
If you watch only one video today, make this the one:
Admist the hot passionate, sweaty, tongue twisting kiss, B proceeds to whip out J's succulent wiener, and J gave B's Chicken Pie a hot sexy sensual lick.
With mustard and ketchup, B engulfed the huge german frankfurter, while J sliced opened B's steaming hot Chicken Pie. The newly made friends were happy that they stopped by Seven-Eleven to grab their late night supper...
NOW GET BACK TO WORK, YOU DIRTY BASTARDS!!!! posted by John T at
8:45 PM
//Wednesday, May 6, 2009 9:02 PM
Educating your Kids.
Safe Sex or Abstinence? Wtf? The former, of course... posted by John T at
9:02 PM
//Tuesday, May 5, 2009 12:49 PM
A story of passion
J roused from his sleep in an unfamiliar room. He looked around him for clues of his whereabouts; he finds nothing definitive and nothing extraordinary. All he knew was that it belonged to a girl, a lady perhaps from the distinctive décor of the room, the pressed silk sheets venetian in origin contrasting well against the satin red drapes from which emanated a single ray of light into the dimness. The dressing table looked organized, bottles of nail polish arranged according to their hue and perfumes by height. Even the clothes rack was pristine; J’s clothes were neatly folded and tucked away at the bottom of the rack next to a sheer white halter-neck dress pressed away beneath a set of laced lingerie.
J snooped around the bedside table looking for picture frames, purses, mail anything that would verify the room’s occupant. Nothing, everything was tucked away tactfully; giving up J slumped back onto the bed catching whiff of a floral scent on the next pillow. J loved a lady that smelled good. From the state of the room J deduced that she must be someone conscious of appearances with meticulous attention to detail. He kicked back as he tried to recall the night.
B was in the shower, soaking under the lukewarm jets as she recalled the night. She didn’t think she would fall in love again, J proved her wrong. She recalled seeing J a couple of times previously in the bar, she admired his immaculate dress sense and his clean-shaven looks, how his biceps threatened to rip through his shirts and she wondered how they looked exposed. She had swooned on a few close encounters with J, once when he came up beside her on the bar to speak to the bartender, he had winked at her and B remembered how the butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
B was feeling down from a recent break-up and had decided to head to the bar for some drinks alone. She never thought she would bounce right back into love again, she hadn’t prepared herself for prospective suitors but along came J. She had noticed J when she stepped into the bar, and had wondered why he too was alone. They exchanged glances at each other briefly before J stepped up to buy her a drink. B tried to start a casual conversation about the weather but realized how awkward she sounded. J handed her a paper towel, she didn’t know she was still tearing. She wiped away her tears apologizing for herself as she reached for her Martini.
As J lay under the crisp silk sheets, the events of the night before came flooding back into his memory. He remembered seeing B before at the bar, but never mustered the courage to approach her. Her friends always surrounded her but J could have sworn there was always a halo of light illuminating her very presence. J admired the way she carried herself, always decked out in elegant dresses with a plunging neckline accentuating her ample bosom. J had wondered how her hair falls back so nicely into place every time she throws her head back as she laughed.
J remembered how differently she had looked the night before; the halo above her head provided enough illumination for J to figure out that she had been crying. Gone were her graceful dresses and flowing tresses, instead she was dressed simply in a t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans with her hair in a perfect ponytail. J wondered what made her cry. J had just lost his job and was alone drinking in the pub with no friends to accompany him. He had tried calling a few mates but they all had work in the morning, J did not tell them he had been fired instead he decided to drown his sorrows on his own. He had been sitting by himself on one end of the bar wondering what life would bring him next when B strolled in. He remembered how his spirits had lifted at the sight of her.
J had told her that everything would be fine and B remembered how everything suddenly seemed so trivial. B was amazed at how comforting his presence was, and for a moment kept herself from falling into his arms in an uncontrollable heap of sorrow. B wanted to spill her misery out to this stranger but contemplated how inappropriate that would have been.
They started making casual conversation over the news, entertainment gossips and even about their colleagues. J was glad to see the smile return to her face. They talked about themselves and how they hated their jobs, they teased each other and cracked jokes over their drinks. They started confessing how they had noticed one another but never found the strength to strike a conversation, afraid of sending each other the wrong signals.
They stumbled out of the bar each with a bottle of wine in hand toasting to the most inanimate objects as they laughed at each other’s antics. B suggested going back to her place for more drinks, a suggestion to which J adamantly declined. After much coaxing and teasing by B, J relented and they hopped into a cab heading straight to her apartment.
They were laughing and tripping over themselves as they headed towards her door stumbling over each other in a drunken heap of laughter. The yearning they had for each other was culpable, a culmination of admiration and an intense desire to hold each other tight as they drifted off to sleep.
They finally made it through the door collapsing lazily on her satin sofa as they joked about the night. B stumbled clumsily into her kitchen, returning with 2 bottles of her best wine. J popped the cork off both bottles and proposed a toast to their newfound companionship. B laughed it off and casually remarked how much she had wanted him to approach her before. In the ensuing silence J snuck a peck on B’s cheeks, shocked by his action but burning for more, B grabbed him by the neck and gave him a long passionate kiss.
I am definitely not a fervent follower of the AWARE saga. However, this whole AWARE episode have created so much controversies and hype in Singapore, it is hard not to take notice. So for those who are oblivious as to what has been happening, AWARE’s new exco has officially stepped down after a grueling 7 hours press conference followed by a vote of no confidence by the 2000 strong AWARE members. Hence, it is almost convincing that these members are all pro-gay.
In a nutshell, the dispute is between the new and old guard on homosexuality issues, with the new exco accusing the old of promoting and encouraging homosexuality. On the other hand, we have the old exco accusing the new ones for being untruthful to the press and having hidden agendas, while it was so obvious that they are anti gay.
I will choose not comment on gay issues, but what I have to say is that this whole AWARE saga is a turning point for something much more controversial. That is, the need for civil liberties. I have to admit that I do not advocate for Human Rights, and neither am I a very big fan of the Human Rights Act. I BELIEVE that if you have rights, you will have inefficiency, and I honestly BELIEVE that they are mutually exclusive. If you want efficiency, you cannot have rights. Have a look at most of the European countries, they have ‘many’ rights, but its bl*ody inefficient. You may have postal strike today and followed by a rail strike tomorrow. You will have national legislations struck down for contravening Human Rights; you will have demonstrations every now and then because people love to exercise their right to free speech; and if you are a politician, you will have pies thrown at you. Yes, you may say that as Humans, we are entitled to freedom and we should respect personal autonomy. However, for the greater good, we cannot have ‘rights’ recognized in Singapore, at least for now.
With regards to the AWARE saga, may I ask why the hype over the whole homosexuality agenda, or why the hype over the whole repeal s.337(a)? What worries me is that Singaporeans desire to be modeled after America or Britain that has laws to confer ‘rights’ upon the individuals.
There is a reason why Singapore has a reputation of being one the World’s safest countries. For 50 years, the citizens have been kept on a tight leash by a very competent government and by a set of very strict laws. Are we going to give them all up now for the sake of ‘rights’? Not now, but it will be hard to say in the future. Perhaps in our lifetime, we may actually see a bill modeled after Britain’s Human Rights Act. posted by John T at
8:59 AM
//Saturday, May 2, 2009 1:41 AM
The Far Right
Let me clear the air.
For a non-EU migrant to be granted permission to seek work in the UK, he/ she has to satisfy a points-based entry clearance scheme. Unless this person scores a minimum number of points, entry will be denied. Amongst other things, the satisfaction of this scheme means:
(i) said non-EU migrant is not allowed access to your country's precious social welfare or public funds.
(ii) said non-EU migrant has to prove he/ she has resolved all housing and funding issues before entry, which suggests that even if non-EU migrants could access your country's precious social welfare or public funds, they would not care for it.
(iii) said non-EU migrant will likely be well-educated, since a basic degree counts for squat under the points system. To be pernickety, a basic degree gets a grand total of ZERO points under the scheme.
(iv) said non-EU migrant has to demonstrate proficiency in the English language, as evidenced by international standardized tests like the IELTS and the TOEFL, both of which the average Britain has proven to be appallingly bad at.
(v) the necessary corollary of points (iii) and (iv) above is that non-EU migrants pay more taxes on a per-capita basis than the average Britain. This means non-EU migrants fund your welfare schemes and the laughable behemoth that is the NHS.
(vi) therefore, on this beautiful, sunny Labour Day, I would like to deliver a big FUCK YOU to our friends at 10 Downing Street for your shameless politicking and for messing with the minds of your people with untruths.
