Archive for July, 2003
Alvin Pang: Reading a fragment of poetry by a much younger self
July 23rd, 2003 books
Occassionally, in the deep of the night, I go to Alvin Pang’s to randomly choose a link to read.
Quoting reading a fragment of poetry by a much younger self :
But I would let him write it all out, of course. No sense
in wasting a good bout of genuine heartbreak,
precious fodder for so much poetry, and scant enough
practice, as it is, for the griefs still to come.
Tolerance breed vibrance!
July 18th, 2003 Uncategorized
My old office was at Bencoolen Street. You see the four major races in there: the Chinese mingle around the Albert Street in front, Indians in little India spill over here to go to the temple, the Malays too, but only for the makan because they prefer Arab Street way behind, and the others: rich Caucasians dinning at Fatty’s (the budget conscious will dine at the ma-mak shop next to the vegetarian eating place furthur down together with the Malays and Indians). No one feels it compulsory to intermingle. Everyone is just doing their own thing. There is always something do: bargain shopping, watching medicine men with their pictures of terrifying sores in strange places, chinese acrobats bending at angles unimaginable, snacking on teh terik and prata or cheap fruits. And if on friday, when in between projects, furthur down the Waterloo Street past the dance, calligraphy and drama places, there is the art museum. (After 6pm you get in free.) On certain nights, in Bugis Village, there is a restaurant of indeterminable ethnic origins, where there will be women in red dresses and bright mouths singing. Needless to say, I love it there. A shocking contrast with the grime and soot of Paya Lebar.
Allowing someone to bunjee jump, chew gum, dance on bar tops – all done in a bid to remake Singapore to entice foreign talent – is superficial. That will not be enough to make this city a vibrant, a living city. It is tolerance that makes a place vibrant: tolerance attracts strangeness and brings with it excitement and change.
Writing habits
July 10th, 2003 Uncategorized
I was in the office early hoping to do some writing before the work day began but I did nothing. I am self conscious about writing and I can’t write in front of acquintances, only strangers. But I didn’t know I was this self conscious: my colleagues walking by me unnerved me so much that I managed only one line about isoceles triangles, which I deleted by the time work began
The idea of having to admit so publicly that I write terrifies me. It’s like admitting something deeply shameful and bordering on freakish – like Chandler Bing in Friends admitting to having a third nipple. (Pen Collectors react the same way when talking about Pen collecting. The shame and guilt is as deep as the pleasure.)
Separating the Iranian Twins
July 8th, 2003 Obituaries
Straits Times, 8 July 2003: SINGAPORE — Ladan Bijani died on Tuesday shortly after a historic operation to separate her from her twin sister Laleh, hospital officials announced.
Since they began to learn how to crawl, they never felt they were together. Being stuck at the back of the head, they see nothing except the high blue sky in front of them. So trying to move forward, they soon realise they were dragging another body behind. Wouldn’t you hate it too, if you were dragging a 65kg-weight at the back of your head for 30 years? It’s little wonder they can’t wait to rid themselves of each other.
Remaking Singapore
July 5th, 2003 Uncategorized
Today in the papers there were a few articles Remaking Singapore. (I’m glad some journos in the Straits Times are not as pro-government as I imagined them to be.) The mood seems to be apathy: “We do not think anything they are serious” rings throughout the reports. No one believes the government can accept alternative views. The people has long memories: we know the government cannot accept dissenting views; everyone knows what happened to those who had a different opinion.
For instance often at home when discussing politics, we speak in low voices and do not make mention of names. My father says, we know in our heart who, no need to say it out. An ex-boss once told me, before she came here, she was instructed never to talk to taxi-drivers as they were spies working for the government: if asked how she found Singapore, she was to say it is a lovely garden city. Younger, I dismissed the caution as paranoia. Now I begin to appreciate the reason for caution.
I find it curious the government always have campaigns in social reengineering. Singapore is always upgraded, improved, and now remade as though it’s current state is a stain in their memory and they are trying their darnest to rid themselves of it.
Margaret Atwood
July 4th, 2003 books
Atwood’s interest is in dualities. It pops up everywhere in Alias Grace – the title introduces the reader to it. Also Lady Oracle. I suspect, probably also in The Robber Bride. As a Gemini, I am interested in duality but in a different way. I see duality as the complement – a missing half to make a harmonious whole. (I buy into the Pollux and Castor story a lot.) Atwood’s interest in the same but opposite forces is a new thing to me. I wonder how she became interested in this topic. I never knew it could be distressing.
Adjectives
July 2nd, 2003 Uncategorized
Having nothing to say, I have been reading. I visited the blogs where I usually visit. For reasons unknown, adjectives leapt at and made twinkly eyes. I had been told once that a piece of writing stripped of adjectives shines strong and bright but I love adjectives. They paint the world in glorious technicolor!
Penman
July 2nd, 2003 TreatsTags: Pens
I had been reading in the pantry Computer Times when I saw ‘Click and Send’. My head went: at once to ten, faster than we say Parker Pen. I couldn’t stop the silly lines from looping in my head.
‘My ink,’ says Mr Parker,
‘outstanding vibrant color!
Just the thing
for every writer.’
It’s not vogue.
So passe,
this writing mode.
Your pleas
are made in vain.
We click and send
At once to ten
faster than we say
Parker Pen.
And he’ll turn
I’m sure
in his grave
to discover
his abandoned
belittled empire
Reading pleasures
July 2nd, 2003 Uncategorized
Reading is vicarious living. While reality has sharp corners dropping edges one must be careful not to run into, one’s mind is very spacious. Reading is like being drunk or asleep dreaming: the body forgets it is fat and cannot run, ensconced in a good chair, it travels forwards, backwards, far or near at speeds breaking every rule of physics.
