Monday, February 13, 2006

ok y'all.

i know, i know. i'm so fickle and indecisive.

i like blogger, and i've been using it for ages and ages and ages. it's simple and all.

but.

as some will know, i've been updating at two or more sites simultaneously for a while now. and i've been pondering and ruminating for some time. much longer than when i decided to just put a full-stop to the last blog-incarnation at phunkstar.com. however, i don't think being a superstardeejaylawyer is my thing right now.

so, please change your links accordingly to this: http://dolcelatte.blogsome.com

and i'll see you there.

until i change my mind and move elsewhere. again.



// edit: weird link and url corrected. what was i thinking? //

Monday, February 06, 2006

inventive steps

it's like everytime i sit down to write an essay i get waylaid by the hyacinths i'm growing in jam jars on my desk.

and everytime i start typing, i get distracted by the hundred thousand other things that are relevant to the topic i'm writing on in general, but absolutely useless to the essay question i'm writing on in particular.

but this is only because i've had 2 months mental preparation of an essay deadline that is today, and because i've spent the last 2 days doing mostly nothing but lying in bed with a hangover, a glass of water and several nurofen.

and then i blog somemore, and halfway through writing this i realise that my essay question is so philosophical it can be about everything and nothing at all.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

le reunion

When I did A-level history, we had a class or two about the French reunion policy, about the reestablishment of the vassal states’ French-ness so as to buttress the French state’s glory.

But I can’t remember the rest of it, and it wouldn’t make a very good story either. All rise and fall, ascendance and gradual decline and stagnation type of thing. Typical historical example.

So anyway, it’s Chinese New Year weekend.

And I’m planning on my own not-so-little reunion dinner feast with friends on Saturday. No steamboat because some of the people coming are vegetarians (damn them!), so it’s going to be a dinner of at least 5 different dishes as I attempt to do my best Chinese-style cooking.

So far, I’ve already bought 4 packs of dumpling and wanton skins, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, dried mushrooms, towgay, straw mushrooms, chye sim, plum sauce, and wood ear. And I’m not done yet! I still have to buy mince pork, chicken, more vegetables and truckloads of tofu.

I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to coordinate all this cooking and all this shopping, and I’m seriously completely amazed at how my grandmother has been doing it for the past few decades. I mean, for our reunion dinner she cooks for about 25 or so people, and on chor yat itself she prepares enough food for about 50. That is some amazing logistics, I tell ya.

But I’m excited, even though I can foresee a whole day in the kitchen chopping, slicing, stirring, boiling, dicing, mincing, mixing, frying.

I just hope everyone turns up on time and that there’s enough food to go round.

Monday, January 23, 2006

this revolution will not be televised

FOR a small island state eager to take its place among the most successful nations in the free world of practising democracies, one would have expected to see a steady increase in political freedom, an ascending line from its virtual non-existence in the rough early years of brute survival, to the emergence of incomplete but distinct forms in a still evolving ethos, to an end point of full functioning in a mature society.

But there has been no such clear path. Instead, we see only a thin ragged line, rather like a small weakly meandering stream that sometimes disappears into the ground.

This sputtering along of the political process is in sharp contrast to the smooth steep trajectories of other areas of development, notably in the economic area, where growth can only be described in breathless superlatives; and even in those areas where the Government has been traditionally conservative, for instance, education and the arts.
Hence while the winds of change are sweeping everywhere, while the clarion call to be creative, to think outside the box, is heard everywhere, the political domain remains a backwater, with every sign of drying up altogether.


- Catherine Lim, Managing Political Dissent, Straits Times 20th January 2006
Apart from being an author, Catherine Lim has also been one of the most outspoken critics of the present government in Singapore to be published in the national press. And for that, I salute her. It’s not often you read such eloquent articles, and especially not when one is talking about the government.

However, although her article speaks of Singaporeans being too comfortable and too fearful as reasons for their continued silence, I would suggest that those are not all the reasons.

Having been thinking for a while about the Singaporean society’s collective morality, I came to certain conclusions as to why it languishes in the era of 1950s post-war colonialism. These conclusions seem also to apply to the lack of a viable channel for dissenting voices to be heard.

The first is that although Singapore is a democracy, it is a socialist democratic state. This is far from the democratic ideal in the minds of most people, who are actually really thinking about liberal democracy. So, rather than a hands-off approach, allowing persons rights to develop their own freedoms through social and political means, the socialist democratic state is ‘’[willing] to restrict the political and legal rights of the individual in favour of a perceived social good’.

Secondly, the ‘early years of brute survival’ mentioned by Catherine Lim is, I imagine, referring to the years following Singapore’s independence from British rule. These early years of strict political control and absolute intolerance of dissent coincided with several extremely important socio-political developments in the already-developed states of that time: the hippie movement, and the feminist movement.

These movements were large scale demonstrations by large numbers of people, supported by intellectuals and politicians. They were also extremely powerful in their promotion of rights and freedoms and individualistic thinking. Apart from some tangential references like the Beatles and other musical groups, the movements and their accompanying ethos completely passed the Singaporean society by.

Lastly, the Cold War that persisted between the Western Democracies and the Communist Bloc helped to develop political freedom and liberal rights in the Western Democracies as a reaction toward the heavy-handed quashing of dissent in the Communist Bloc. By demonstrating their lack of fear of dissent, the Western Democracies attempted to one-up the Communist Bloc and in turn gain favour with the world at large.

Singapore, however, stayed largely aloof from the ideological issue, choosing to emphasise its capitalist free markets first, and its draconian laws against supposed commie anti-government interlopers second. This meant that the outside world saw in Singapore what they wanted to see - a friend of Western-style democracy – but neglected to look beyond that to discover the oppressive political environment which continues today, albeit in a slightly diluted form. As such, political freedom was sacrificed for economic progress, because anyone that was thought to even slightly disagree was liable to be branded a communist and sent to prison without trial.

These factors contributed to the lack of awareness amongst Singaporeans of alternative methods of governance, and even less support for them. They also created a society where one is not made aware of the rights one has, but is highly aware of the consequences of transgressing the governments’ rule. And it has also created a society whereby one can speak vehemently about being anti-government, but only whilst drinking Guinness Stout at the coffeeshop or whilst driving a taxicab.

Also, because the government has had such efficient and effective policies regarding the economy, a large proportion of Singaporeans, especially those that grew up in the post-colonial years, feel indebted to the government for their current success. And because economic comfort breeds passivity, there is no motivation for change, nor is there desire to actively pursue one’s rights or freedoms which one did not realize one was entitled to anyway.

Resultantly, not only has there never been a culture of speaking up in the modern state, many Singaporeans either feel grateful to the government, or have been brought up to be grateful by their parents, because anything else would be biting the hand that feeds you.

This lack of a public political forum is non-threatening to the Singaporean society, but only as long as the government in power has only the welfare of its citizens at heart, is uncorrupt, substantially and procedurally fair, a follower of the rule of law, and not given to abuse of power – in other words, perfect.

Anything less would require an active dissenting sector to be the voice of those who are lacking it, to create opportunities for feedback and dialogue, and to allow social and political progression.

No government is perfect, and it is only through dissent can a government look outside its own self-constructed box to view things from another perspective. Without dissent, there can be no improvements. Without dissent, there is no check or balance. Without dissent, there is no liberty.

get rich, or die trying

i used to have a magazine cut-out of a korean-american boy, looking all-american in chinos, t-shirt and cap, being quoted as saying
'i am afraid of not being successful'.

and i agreed with Mr Cut-Out Korean then, and i agree with him still now.

it's not failure that's a problem. failure is good, failure is spectacular and hyperbole. failure is the bang, not the whimper. you can bounce back from failure. failure is the extreme which there is no other choice but up.

mediocrity, on the other hand, is that indescribable chill that runs down the back of my spine. it is boring. it is stagnant. it is arachnophobia where the tarantulas are merely furry animification of my darkest nightmare - of being merely mediocre. it's a black hole that absorbs everything around it, a vortex of empty invisibility.

where else can one go when one is mediocre? it's 'good enough'. it's not failure in any sense, but it sure ain't success either. and yet, it is the no man's land of achievement, and this land is vast and plain. one may travel their whole life in this land of mediocrity and never reach the ends of this sierra of plainness. and although one may have many companions in this journey, one is always alone in their individually personalised mediocrity.

and so it is, with this fear in me, that i scale doggedly up the mountain that is a career, with a bright red flag in hand ready to stake my claim and base camps at convenient intervals to restore regroup and reinvigorate.

because, at the end of the day, i'd like to be able to swan in and out of my job without fear of my financial bearings. i'd like to be able to decide where and when and how. i'd like to call the shots, as they say, and not worry about my next mortgage repayment.

and because i don't want to find myself in my forties hoping my boss will give out bonuses at the end of the year because i could really do with some extra cash.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

checks, tartan or gingham?

perhaps all this house-moving is getting to my head.

in my history list of sites visited in the past few days, all i see is martha stewart, digs magazine and BBC Gardening.

all this domesticity is beginning to scare me.

i mean, how am i supposed to find the time to make new slipcovers when i'm supposed to be out in the garden pruning back the rose bushes or repainting my walls in some visually-arresting colour to make my room seem more interesting?

and all that on top of going to school and doing my readings and attempting to write essays.

no wonder women are going to take 200 years to break the glass ceiling - we're more concerned with what type of glass it is, whether it lets enough light in, and how clean and shiny it is.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

r - e - s - p - what?

y'know, sometimes some people just amaze me.

honestly.

and a lot of the time i don't even know why i bother. all i get is a metaphorical slap in the face without so much as a by your leave.

take a deep breath... hold... and relax

so much for 'being adult about it'. and so much for respect.

tchhhh

Monday, January 16, 2006

car-ride no. 93752

I’m sitting in the car, on the way back from East Sussex and it’s dark so I can’t read. We’re singing songs, or bits and pieces of them, because the car stereo is fucked and it can’t play anything not even the radio.

Before we left you’d said, ‘you’re going to have to keep me entertained’.

So I’m curled up in my seat, watching the different shades of darkness and the red-orange-pink glow of lights in the distance. And I’m trying to remember a song. It starts with ‘if only’ but I can’t remember anything else. And I have a ghost of a tune running in my head, but when I try and catch it, it becomes another song.

And then I give up, and we start reciting bits of poems. You tell me a few lines of Robert Frost, and I tell you how much I dislike Blake. And then I tell you how I want to put chaos into 14 lines, and also how they have lied about time.

But most important of all, I told you about the vegetables and the birds, and about how words are for those with promises to keep.