peepingtom

peepingtom has moved

2010-04-28T13:59:00.003+08:00

Please update your bookmark to http://epitommy.wordpress.com
Hope to see your comments there!

2009-01-20T10:03:00.001+08:00

on a soy milk and cheese pancake diet.. yum!

What if you forgot yourself?

2008-02-24T23:57:00.002+08:00

Is our identity our memory?

In the run up to the Oscars tomorrow, I thought it would be appropriate to devote Sunday to a little movie duathlon. Managed ‘Away From Her’ and ‘Persepolis’ in the same day.

*****

Recently I’ve noticed something about myself. My memory’s failing. I can’t remember certain descriptive words or if I learnt new ones I couldn’t recall their meaning soon after. And if I watched a movie or read a book I loved, I couldn’t so much as recall the plot or details in time. I can’t remember song titles or lyrics even if I’d looped the same tune over and over. I take a long time to place a face, if at all. I was wondering if all this is caused by smoking (which I’ve quit for 8 months now).

At the back of my head I was thinking if this could already be the first telltale signs of Alzheimer’s Disease or a simple case of plain forgetfulness or disinterest. I can’t remember (no pun intended) when but I told myself that I should keep a diary of sorts, to have a physical record of things now that I’m so forgetful, but you know how things are always put off till you’ve got more time?

*****

And so ‘Away From Her’ struck a powerful chord within me. The knowledge of oneself, fading away, leaves the heart to ache a hundred times more. It’s a thought that has popped up frequently in my conversations with friends. But it has always been laughed off, for 34 years old is just too young eh? So if you forget yourself, who are you then? Who do you become?

In the same vein ‘Persepolis’ deals with the whole identity construct – how relentlessly the memory of that identity comes back to reaffirm or to condemn the self. Now do I really know what I’m talking back there? I may or may not. It could explain the deliberate attempt at filling my CD case with Mando-pop albums before I’d embarked on a 9-week retreat in U.K. And even more recently, with the arrival of a Chinese national as colleague that an age old struggle of mine resurfaced. And made me confront my identity once again, or rather make a comparison. Am I Chinese? Should I become Chinese? How Chinese can I be? Whose Chinese anyway? Will I ever become a Chinese? What if I forgot to be Chinese? Just because, I have no memory of my forefathers.

Now everyone can get a hotel room

2007-07-02T19:59:00.000+08:00

I think AirAsia is doing a fabulous job tackling the budget conscious market. Now not only can everyone fly, they can also stay in rather decent accommodation. I haven't actually visited their new budget hotel, but judging by the pictures on its website, Tune Hotels looks good!

There's No Place I'd Rather Be

2007-06-14T11:36:00.000+08:00

I HEART SG. There's no denying it. But at the same time it pains to love a country that doesn't love you back. Recently I saw the latest National Day song on TV. Rather early in the day since the actual day of commemoration is Aug 9. Gave me some friendly goosebumps though. Until I figure how to upload videos and song files, you'll have to check out the new song at kitchan.com.

There's No Place I'd Rather Be | Kit Chan
Music&Lyrics | Jimmy Ye

I’ve walked the streets of Cairo & Bombay
I’ve seen the neon signs on old Broadway
I’ve climbed the Eiffel Tower
The Great Wall in one hour
Experienced Sweet and Sour
But that’s okay

Seen Hollywood, the sunsets in LA
The London Bridge, Big Ben, the Thames, UK
I’ve crossed the River Kwai
Yet still I don’t know why
I think of you each night and every day

There’s no place I’d rather be
You’ll always be a part of me
And even though I’ve roamed the world
It’s still my home I long to see
This is where my family
And my friends grew up with me
So I’ll cross the skies and sail the seas
To be where I wanna be

There’s no place I’d rather be
You’ll always be a part of me
And even though I’ve roamed the world
It’s still my home I long to see
This is where my family
And my friends grow old with me
So I’ll cross the skies and sail the seas
To be where I wanna be
Cos there’s no place I’d rather be

Meet me in a restaurant...

2007-05-30T19:09:00.000+08:00

Meet me on the top of the world

Marion Nicole Teo Singapore. I remember vividly, the dramatic flourish with which she’d delivered her introduction to the world back in 1987. And I had, with a little guilt, abandoned last minute revisions (it fell right smack in between my sec.2 exams) to catch the Miss Universe pageant held LIVE in Singapore. That was also the only year that Miss Singapore made it to the top ten semi-finalists. I remember loving every detail. I'm nationalistic to the core. From the giant prop of a reclining lion (painted a lighter shade of Shrek) on stage, to the infectious opening song Let’s Go!, to how Marion walked through a curtain of water in the outdoor swimsuit shoot YET emerge miraculously with hair implausibly dry and coiffed still...

But it was the serious search for a national dress (did it start then?) that got me totally excited. In my young mind, the concept of a 3 cultures-in-1 dress to reflect our multi-racial heritage was sheer brilliance. Fast forward to 2007. The part saree, part cheong sam, part baju kurong haberdashery look, as you can observe from the picture below, has survived the ravages of time or taste. The dress remains a garish mythical beast, a Merlion of sorts. Pity that the efforts spearheaded by the late President Ong Teng Cheong in creating a wearable national identity inspired by the orchid-motif died together with his demise.

Jessica Tan, Miss Singapore Universe 2007
Picture grabbed from www.globalbeauties.com

Indeed not just our dress 'sense', but everything about the pageant has remained static. Take a look at the immutables. USA and Venezuela are guaranteed spots in the top five. The contestant from the host country would invariably be in the top fifteen. Miss Venezuela, with pageant school et al, still cannot speak English after all these years. And with the rise of the Asian Millennium, suddenly China is Miss Congeniality, Philippines is Miss Photogenic, and of course Japan is Miss Universe...

heroes

2007-05-30T10:00:00.000+08:00

The faculty of accountability
By Siew Kum Hong | Posted: 30 May 2007 0718 hrs

www.channelnewsasia.com

Anger, disbelief, fear, shock and tears. Those were just some of the reactions to the University of New South Wales (UNSW) Asia's announcement that it was giving up after just one term.

Even as UNSW, the Economic Development Board (EDB), the Ministry of Education (MOE) and other educational institutions (including the three local universities) continue to try to help UNSW students deal with the aftermath, there are other issues that merit debate on a more macro level.

The first concerns the accountability of government agencies.

The MOE had reportedly played an important role in attracting UNSW to Singapore in the first place. Furthermore, all private schools must register with the MOE.

Yet, when students and parents wanted to meet with the latter after UNSW's decision, the MOE's response was that UNSW had ultimate responsibility.

As for the EDB, it had sealed the deal with UNSW and had invested heavily in the project. Yet, it has declined to reveal the losses resulting from UNSW's pullout.

While disclosing the figures could affect the EDB's bargaining position in future negotiations with other universities, the fact remains that this is taxpayers' money. The Financial Times has reported the amount to be as high as $80 million.

The EDB has also not provided information on how the deal was structured. What sort of guarantees and commitments were extracted from UNSW? How could UNSW simply quit after just one term, when construction work on the new campus was already underway, apparently without having to pay compensation?

Did we give away too much to lure UNSW here?

The onus is on the EDB to explain what had happened and give an indication of our losses, while not compromising its ability to negotiate future deals.

Its continued silence does not sit well with Singaporeans, particularly in light of the Public Accounts Committee's recent findings of significant lapses in the EDB's internal controls and governance.

Singaporeans expect greater accountability from ministers and civil servants, given the recent public service pay hike. The handling of this case may not have met the enhanced standards expected by the public.

A more fundamental question concerns the Singapore model, which relies heavily on foreign investments to drive the economy. UNSW's departure demonstrates the risks inherent in playing this game, especially in an increasingly globalised world where competitors are everywhere and funds come and go easily.

Investors are understandably fickle, coming to seek returns and leaving if there are none. As with UNSW and other multinational corporations, when they pull out, Singaporeans have to pick up the pieces, whether they be lost jobs, missed opportunities or dashed dreams.

This could come without warning, such as when there is a management change and hardnosed businessmen such as UNSW vice-chancellor Professor Fred Hilmer disagree with the previous decisions made.

So long as we persist with this economic model, the risk will remain. I am not saying we should abandon this model — it has served us well in the past, and it could continue to work for the future.

But we have to be aware of the inherent risks, make sure our eyes are open to what could happen if things go wrong, and do our best to mitigate the risks.

Just as foreign investments have a multiplier effect on the economy, the negative repercussions of capital outflows will similarly be amplified.

And that brings us back to the EDB's role in attracting investments. Yes, capital should be able to flow in and out of Singapore freely, and we cannot stop an investor from leaving.

But surely it is not too much to ask that where public funds are spent to entice foreign investments, we also extract some assurances and commitments to stay in Singapore. This not only minimises the wastage of taxpayers' money, but also mitigates the risk of lives being disrupted by premature departures.

Ultimately, our model of foreign investments requires us to keep foreign investors happy, to ensure that the business case presented is realistic and justifiable, and to ensure a long-term binding commitment.

But, at the same time, we must not lose sight of the need to grow indigenous players who can compete internationally while retaining local roots.

Otherwise, we will always remain hostage to the whims of foreign investors.

The writer is a Nominated Member of Parliament and a corporate counsel, commenting in his personal capacity.

137, 377, 450

2007-05-29T13:21:00.000+08:00

KS. and I, we made a pact to motivate each other to write. The task is to post under a common subject header. And see how the storylines converge or veer way off on a tangent. In this inaugural instalment, our starting point will be “137” for obvious reasons (if it’s not apparent to you, please ask).

I’d pondered over the number for a bit. And suddenly two other three-digit numbers popped up. Well I thought… this could prove interesting, maybe not as titillating as 251, but I’ll not go into that infamous tag here. Or I could launch into 532, about the estate I live in (you can catch snippets in my earlier posts).

Allow me to start with 450. About a month ago, the international community has finally reached a grand plan to limit global CO2 emissions from fossil fuels to the range of 450 & 500ppm (parts per million of the atmosphere). According to The Independent, “The last time the planet experienced levels as high as 500ppm was about 20 or 40 million years ago, when sea levels were 100 metres higher than today.” Just imagine that! I can’t. And so the entire world galvanised into action. And here in our little city-state, our first task is to tackle plastic bag usage. Of which I’ve much to be guilty about, by the mere fact that I consume two bags per day, simply by having breakfast and dinner to go. That about translates to 500 of these noisy, resource-depleting and environment-polluting plastic bags. And that’s just me. Perhaps counter staff can slip in these words (if they open their mouths to grunt thank you at all), for example, “Do you need a bag?” And whatever happened to Styrofoam? Perhaps a rethink on take out food packaging might help solve things to a certain extent.

Of course by now, you’ve heard much about the vociferous debate on section 377A of our statutes. The liberals and conservatives are having a field day arguing their sacred points across. When it was first proposed to be repealed, my heart sang a tune. I wonder how my parents would feel when they read commentaries and forum letters in the dailies. For I’m sure they read them, since I’ve come out of the closet. And they had in the past, religiously (for want of a better word) pulled articles about diseases, and paedophilia that made headline news to caution me on the moral slippery slope of being… well, gay! Till this day I wonder which camp they subscribe to. It must be so hard. I know many of my peers won’t give a hoot about decriminalising. Cos really, how many of us are able to see the big picture, or have the tenacity and nerve to maintain a lifelong relationship that involves commitment in sickness and in health, and maybe even adopting a child or two. In other words, till death do us part. Someone related this to me. A gay couple has for the longest time lived their lives together. Then one of them fell very ill. Imagine your loved one lying on his death bed and you’re not allowed to visit or make decisions for him simply because you’re not officially next-of-kin.

I saw 5.47 one fateful evening. He was totally engrossed in his phone, and leaning nonchalantly against the pillar. Oblivious that he has managed to cause someone’s heart to skip a beat. Just who is this delectable specimen? And then there’s 9.00, the one who loiters about the lobby area with great patience, shrouded in the enigmatic cloak of night, shuttling between car and toilet… waiting for (I realised later) an acquaintance of mine to finish work. And then the star-studded cast from CINQ salon (French for 5 and as I learnt to pronounce it later, sounds like sunk)… one just cannot begin to rationalise about the frequency with which celebs visit their hair maestros. Maybe hair grows out quicker under the constant glare of limelight? To the calafares of 137, thank you all for making each working day, that little bit more interesting.

Zapped!!

2007-05-28T17:12:00.000+08:00

I-S Magazine is never quite the same (for me at least) ever since Dan Savage’s syndicated column was pulled. Apparently someone made an official complaint about its risqué content or homo-slant. Funny no one seemed to mind its classifieds section black+white, containing content that might raise more than a few eyebrows.

But this week’s issue no.357 had a gem hidden under +film etc. A free screening of Abduction: The Megumi Yokota Story. This is a heart-wrenching and moving documentary about the Yokota family’s crusade to locate their then 13-year-old daughter, believed to have been snatched by North Korean agents some thirty years ago. Their efforts paid off in recent years, when the secretive regime admitted to taking 13 (a figure disputed) and the eventual return of some survivors amongst these. Unfortunately, their daughter was said to have committed suicide. Her ashes were later flown back but controversy surrounds its DNA testing, rendering the results of her death inconclusive. The agony exacerbates with this non-closure of events… and the heart continues to ache.

29231 29232

2007-05-28T09:24:00.000+08:00

It’s been a funny week (please forgive me if time references including movie titles are a little confusing). KI. and I went to catch 28 Weeks Later on Tuesday. The interesting bit is, we watched it in the same cineplex as we did 28 Days Later. It must be 3 years plus since, and on our very first date at that! I still remember fondly then. The rush of emotions, overwhelming as I received a bouquet of lily buds precisely twenty-eight days later. Ahh… the promise of a budding relationship.

What’s this emotional ping pong, as the newly-single C. chastises. Over the weekend, we met again in the vicinity of Kelantan Lane. While walking through thieves market, we recalled lending support to a friend peddling wares then. And how he remembered that I left in a cab to meet with my sister. I’d related this series of events to JK. and this is his SMS reply: “I’m tempted to scold and ask what the hell he is doin but since you got nothing better to do and you need thrills, I encourage.” This is also the same dear friend who taught me how to giggle.

sure... Have It Your Way

2007-05-27T23:44:00.000+08:00

Don't get me wrong. I adore fast food. I've even mastered the art of getting food faster. Just take a peek at the serving counter and order whatever's lying there. But that's just a preamble to my grouse here. I could live with BK's tagline 'It Just Tastes Better', giving them the benefit of the doubt. But they've changed it since to 'Have It Your Way'. Well it sounds great. But wait till you really have it your way! Sir, green tea (instead of coca cola)? That'd be 40cents extra. Onion rings (in place of french fries), that'd be another 30cents. Well one just can't really have the cake and eat it too eh?

"impossible is nothing" indeed

2007-02-02T16:30:00.000+08:00

I'm not one to pander to telemarketeers. But I gave in this one time for whatever reason I don't recall. So a courier was sent down to the office, for certain documents needed my signature. We sat down at the table. He handed me the envelope. I read and signed. Then I noticed a pair of crutches against the wall. I queried if the courier man was injured. And his reply threw me off my seat for a second.

He's permanently disabled. The fact didn't quite sink in until I saw him stand up. He is an amputee (for lack of a politically correct word). So there. A courier man. An amputee. Wow.

40 Winks

2007-01-29T18:12:00.000+08:00

I’m feeling prolific today. Maybe it’s the well-rested weekend. I love nondescript weekends. Time out for myself by myself.

I remember this MSN chat a couple of weeks ago with a very old acquaintance A. I don’t really know why. But we’re never really friends. And somehow he reminded me of this idea I’ve been nursing for almost a decade now.

There was a time in my mid-twenties when I had to fuel the need to always want to be OUT there, finding every excuse to stay away from the cloistered home. There seem to be this whole café culture going on. We would be hanging out at the café in school in between classes. And then proceed to lounge at the cafes in town when lessons end. Close friends like BG. and D. would recollect my youthful follies at the now-defunct Au Bon Pain at Forum The Shopping Mall. But I digress.

At about this time, my idea of Resting Stations catering to retail fiends was born. Bearing semblance to Tokyo’s capsule hotels, these sleeping coffins would be placed along the entire stretch of Orchard Road, providing a quick recharge/relief/respite whichever. A perverse version would have these street furniture outfitted with peepholes so that passers-by can pay to observe the sleeping habits of others. Of course upon verbalisation, friends were aghast. Nevertheless they’d listened with patience and perhaps that was all that mattered.

Years later, I’d even considered moving these contraptions into an actual shop space. Providing freshening services (including 40 winks) in our hot humid climate for a long day spent trawling the malls. Come to think of it, I’d never actually once put idea to paper but in my mind I was fretting over hygiene issues, whether clothes crinkled, will there be adequate privacy… etc.

And so it is to my dismay that I saw MetroNaps. To think I thought I had a winning idea from day one. These guys took an idea and went all the way to research on sleep. These people even had franchise all worked out. Any one looking to invest? Or should I really put this to rest?

Ebony & Ivory in Harmony

2007-01-29T15:49:00.000+08:00

I’ve got a soft spot for the piano. Over the years, I remember vividly some of my favourite movies like Michael Nyman’s The Piano, Scott Hicks’ Shine and just yesterday, Jingle Ma’s Happy Birthday.

For the uninitiated I’d spent my entire growing up years struggling with the instrument, and not because of the gruelling piano practises. I lived with an aunt who conducted private piano lessons. Some days, I’d curse at the repetitive scales, made more unbearable by the ineptitude of disinterested students. Other times, I’d lap up all of Richard Clayderman’s Ballade Pour Adeline. I could even hum the exam pieces by heart. The strange thing was I’d never formally learnt it, although I believe I can still manage Chopsticks (not unlike typing with two fingers).

When I was about 12 (rather late in the day), my dad asked if I’d wanted to have a go at it. And I think I got cold feet just by watching the learning process executed by my aunt. I gave a flat no (no pun intended).

My next close encounter with the piano was in a Chesterfield cottage back in 1998. (read the other side of the story). In the entertainment room there sat an upright piano. One particular English lad was playing. And believe me I was making small talk. Being typical Singaporean I’d asked, “Which is the highest grade you’d attained?” Only then did I realise people actually learnt to play the piano not because of the coveted certificate but because they wanted to!!

In the meantime I fell in love with the harpsichord. Which resembled an embellished piano but the metallic thuds are music to the ears. And then there’s the pipe organ and accordion. I can’t explain this love for ivory and ebony keys.

Picture ripped from www.moviexclusive.com

Perhaps it’s O’s birthday coming up this week. That is why the movie Happy Birthday, adapted (with Sylvia Chang’s input) from lead actress Rene Liu’s latest literary work I Want To Go With You hit all the ‘right’ notes in me. The lyrics of the theme song by acclaimed Lin Xi encapsulates perfectly the lingering what-ifs of has-been loves. How gradually passionate Valentine greetings turn into platonic Birthday wishes. And how year after year (and perhaps for eternity) we look forward and ensure these birthday wishes are sent.

excerpt

对你的思念
三百六十五天
我只等这一天
勇敢地把从前
情人节快乐
变成祝你生日快乐

让挂念代替了相处
瞬间是永远谈情变祝福
可惜甜言也带苦...

Happy Birthday To You, my dear.

it's only the wind

2007-01-23T23:11:00.000+08:00

Tonight the wind sent fluffy white clouds scurrying across the night sky. Strong winds are usually accompanied by lightning. Within a short span of time these would have developed into a tropical storm. Rain pitter patters. Rage dissipates. But tonight the wind felt ominous. There wasn't its usual accomplice -- lightning. There weren't any pregnant clouds (with that tell tale red glow) suggesting a storm coming. There was just, wind! And all of a sudden this Pet Shop Boys' song came to mind. A song about domestic abuse...

It's only the wind blowing litter all around
Just a little wind and the trees are falling down
There's nobody crying, that was yesterday
Inside we're all smiling, everything's okay

It's only the wind blowing cans along the street
Someone's dustbin lid playing havoc with the peace
There's nobody hiding behind a locked door
And no one's been lying, 'cause we don't lie any more

It's only the wind, how it takes you by surprise
Suddenly begins, then before you know it dies
My hands are not shaking, I don't touch a drop
You must be mistaken, I know when to stop

When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out

It's only the wind, they say it's getting worse
The trouble that it brings haunts us like a curse
My nerves are all jangled, but I'm pulling through
I hope I can handle what I have to do

When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out
A storm blows itself out...

I'm sorry

Flags of Our Fathers

2007-01-17T20:31:00.000+08:00

This post is dedicated to N. who's currently away on a working trip. Chinatowns everywhere being the satellite hubs of the Chinese diaspora (no different here in Singapore), have to look the part as we near Chinese New Year. Two days ago I woke up and saw this year's street decorations along South Bridge Road, I was trying hard to make sense of it. I give full marks to the designer for this unprecedented gesture of flair. I was trying to invoke the artistry of Zhang Yimou's films in my head, well probably that is it! But I'm torn. These look like garish knickers of bygone times, hung out to dry, especially after the very very wet spell of recent times. Perhaps I'm mistaken. This could be early days as the street gets dressed.

the big picture

2007-01-12T08:17:00.000+08:00

How big is your world view? Ripped this off from www.mrbrownshow.com

17 million calls and no cab

2007-01-05T12:48:00.000+08:00

You might have noticed an inexplicable proclivity toward news-article posts here. It’s a phase I believe. But I digress. Anyone who has had to hail a cab in Singapore would, dare I say, experience frustrations in flagging one. I have a big problem when Singapore’s largest taxi company attributes the spike in bookings to a ‘stronger economy’ and to the extent of crediting its ‘improved taxi booking system’!!

Now we all know how the booking system benefits the company, although I don’t have the hard facts at hand. A quick Gooooogle of taxi related news would throw up results such as technological advancements in ‘real time bookings’ and ‘WAP collaborations with our very own National Computer Systems’. And herein lies the problem.

Candid conversations with cab drivers provide interesting insights. The classic few put the blame on Singaporeans’ penchant for calling cabs. Which in turn causes the complacent attitude in cab drivers and their pickiness when it comes to street fares. Which frustrates commuters. Which gives them no real alternative but to call for cabs. And the vicious cycle perpetuates. And which taxi companies gladly misconstrue as ‘we need to make our booking system better to handle more calls’.

I live about Chinatown and I’ve seen tourists (without the benefit of a cell phone) desperately trying to get a cab to get back to the hotel presumably. Little do they know about the curious phenomenon – the disappearance of cabs at 10pm especially in the city zone. Or why every single cab displays the ON CALL sign. Or why empty cabs are whizzing past without stopping. Or even why empty cabs stop by the roadside away from the taxi Q.

To understand the psyche of cab drivers better, I’ve tried to discuss the effectiveness of a scheme brewing in my mind. I propose taxi companies to scrap phone bookings altogether, except for advance bookings and a separate call-booking limousine service. So cabs won’t have the luxury of sitting and waiting for calls but to actually get out there to fight for fares. What do you think?

And don’t even get me onto the topic of uneven service cab drivers provide.

Text highlights are made to the original writing for commentary purposes.

**********

ComfortDelGro reports total of over 17 million bookings in 2006
By Tan Kar Wee, Channel NewsAsia | Posted: 04 January 2007 1754 hrs

SINGAPORE: Singaporeans are calling for cabs more often.

ComfortDelGro received more than 17 million bookings for its Comfort, CityCab, and Yellow-Top taxis in 2006 - 20 percent more than in 2005.

Singapore's largest taxi company says a stronger economy has brought more business for cabbies as people are willing to pay more to have a taxi at their doorstep.

It also credits its improved taxi booking system for bringing in more customers.

On average, commuters who call in only have to wait for 30 seconds to confirm a taxi, and are picked up within 6 minutes.

The highest number of calls was received on April 28, which was one of the wettest days of the year and the beginning of the Labour Day weekend.

There were 76,500 calls which were 53 percent more than the usual average of 50,000 a day.

The month of May was the busiest with more than 1.6 million calls, 14 percent more than the monthly average.

Recently, the heavy rain also boosted numbers, pushing calls up by 15 percent in December, compared to the same month a year ago.

ComfortDelGro says it will continue to fine-tune its booking system and find ways to cater to more calls, especially when demand surges during wet weather.

Current booking fees are S$2.50 during off-peak hours and S$4 during peak hours.
The number two company, SMRT Taxis, has also reported 30 percent more bookings last year from 2005.

Peak hours for bookings are from 7am to 9.30am and 5pm to 11pm on weekdays, while weekends and public holidays are classified as off-peak. - CNA/so

Liking Libeskind

2006-11-16T22:20:00.000+08:00

Libeskind may be facing a brick wall with his design for condo at Keppel Bay. (LATEST: Design gets go ahead)

22 August 2006
The Business Times

[SINGAPORE] Some big-name architects much touted here for upcoming landmark projects may not see their designs built after all.

Pelli Clarke Pelli Architects – the firm founded by Argentine-born Cesar Pelli which designed the Canary Wharf Tower and the Petronas Twin Towers – was earlier named overall concept or form architect for the entire Orchard Turn project, which will have an eight-level retail podium and a residential tower rising over 50 storeys.

But the firm may not end up leaving its mark on the site after all. It appears that Pelli's design may be dropped in favour of another by Benoy of the UK, which designed the Bluewater mall in Kent and the Bullring in Birmingham.

Benoy's proposals, which include mounting LCD screens on the mall's facade, are understood to have wowed Orchard Turn Developments, a joint venture between CapitaLand and Sun Hung Kai Properties which bagged the landmark site in December last year. Another internationally renowned architect, Daniel Libeskind, may also be facing a brick wall with his design for Keppel Group's condominium at Keppel Bay.

In an interview with the International Herald Tribune in May, Mr Libeskind released artist's impressions for the project dubbed Emerald Bay, showing swaying towers. A check with Keppel revealed that the project is still a 'work-in-progress'.

Emerald Bay Development, Singapore
Images Courtesy Studio Daniel Libeskind
Picture ripped from www.archrecord.construction.com/news/images/060216libeskind3.jpg

Sources that BT spoke to, however, say that the planning authority, the Urban Redevelopment Authority (URA), was sufficiently impressed with the initial design to extend certain waivers, but that subsequent designs or works-in-progress have not met with the same response.

A spokesman for the URA did say that the architect for the development had shared some preliminary ideas with the authority, 'but we have not yet received any formal planning application to URA to date'.

Whether these famous architects have had constraints placed on their designs is not clear, but Aamer Taher, a council member of the Singapore Institute of Architects, believes that developers in Singapore do make decisions 'based on tried and tested formulas'.

One aspect of design in Singapore that is often a point of contention between architects and developers is having to achieve building efficiencies of up to 95 per cent. The result is that common spaces like corridors and lift lobbies are reduced to the minimum while bay windows, which are exempt from development charge calculations, are exploited to the maximum.

'Architects are reduced to juggling numbers,' said Mr Aamer.

For important landmark sites, the URA does intervene by way of its Design Advisory Panel (DAP). It is understood that the Emerald Bay does not require a DAP review but that the Orchard Turn site does.

URA said: 'Throughout the DAP evaluation process, the developer is given the opportunity to clarify or propose alternatives to address DAP's concerns, if any.'

Orchard Turn Developments Pte Ltd initially appointed Benoy as the retail concept/architectural consultant for only the mall component of Orchard Turn while Pelli was to be the form architect responsible for the overall concept of the entire project - both the retail and residential components.

However, when contacted by BT, Orchard Turn Developments CEO Soon Su Lin yesterday confirmed that the partners have decided to appoint Benoy as the form architect for the entire project, suggesting it has taken over the role initially performed by Pelli.

'In developing the retail concept, Benoy has conceived various exciting proposals which included mounting of LCD screens on the facade of the building, significant shop-front visibility opportunities facing Orchard Road, and an outstanding exterior design for the retail component. These proposals are befitting the status of a world-class retail mall which we are committed to create.

'It was thus deemed most appropriate by the partners to appoint Benoy as the form architect so that the overall retail design concept can be extended to, and seamlessly integrated with, the residential component, ensuring that the entire Orchard Turn development conforms to a common architectural language.

This approach establishes the Orchard Turn's retail component as the centre of gravity along Orchard Road,' Ms Soon told BT yesterday.

She added that Singapore-based RSP Architects Planners and Engineers remains design architect for the project's residential component as well as overall submission and project architect for the entire project.

The Orchard Turn mall, which will have four basement levels and four levels above ground, is on track to open by Christmas 2008.

Tie A Yellow Ribbon (Round The Old Oak Tree)

2006-11-16T21:28:00.000+08:00

I've gotten lazy. But in view that link archives might get outdated, I've posted this piece of news ad verbatim for your interpretation. I guess it is the major awareness campaign going round that made me wonder. Are we merely paying lip service here? The picture you see below is ripped from The Yellow Ribbon Project website.

*********

The Electric New Paper

Could it be because he's an ex-con?
Delivery man told he can't deliver to Conrad Centennial during IMF meeting. His boss asks: Could it be because he's an ex-con?

By Liew Hanqing
17 August 2006

FOR four years, he delivered food supplies to one of Singapore's grandest hotels with no problems. But for nearly two weeks in September – from 10 to 20 Sep – Mr Ng Ah Hock won't be allowed to do this.

Mr Ng is an ex-convict. He killed a man in the 1970s. But he has paid for his crime. He has not committed another crime since he was released from jail in 1982.

So what's happening in September? Well, from 11 to 20 Sep, Singapore will play host to 16,000 foreign visitors for the International Monetary Fund and World Bank meetings. That's why people are being scrutinised closely.

Could it be that Mr Ng's past has come back to haunt him? His boss, Mr Michael Loh, 36 - the owner of seafood supply company Fische Gourmet – has been hiring ex-convicts regularly.

Mr Loh's problems started in July when he was asked to submit information about Mr Ng to Conrad Centennial Hotel for security screening. The hotel – one of many in the area which will house the IMF delegates – has been one of Mr Ng's stops on his regular delivery route.

Mr Loh was asked for Mr Ng's full name, IC number, citizenship and place of birth. 'About a week later, I was told by the hotel that Ah Hock won't be allowed to make deliveries while the IMF meetings are going on,' said Mr Loh.

He said that he was not given any reason for the ban.

NO SECOND CHANCE?

But the question in his mind was: If this has anything to do with Mr Ng's past, whatever happened to second chances?

After all, Mr Loh recalled that the Government had gone big on the Yellow Ribbon project, which aims to give ex-convicts a second shot by helping them find work.

Mr Ng, a 48-year-old bachelor, had been jailed for four years and given 24 strokes of the cane in the late '70s for manslaughter. During a gang fight, he had caused the death of a rival gang member.

More than 20 years after his release from jail, he now works full-time as a delivery man for Fische Gourmet.

When asked about Mr Ng, a police spokesman told The New Paper: 'In the current security climate, the top priority is to ensure the safety and security of our residents, visitors and delegates (to next month's meetings).

'The recent foiled plot in London is yet another reminder that the threat of terrorism is real and should not be taken for granted.

'It pays to be vigilant and careful.'

The spokesman added that the police are working closely with organisers, building managements and owners of various affected establishments to further enhance security at their premises.

'This would include stringent security screening of those who have access to premises within the secured zone.'

He said for specific cases, establishments concerned should approach the police directly to consider appropriate arrangements.

MODEL WORKER

Mr Loh said he was surprised at the turn of events.

'Ah Hock has been working full-time for me for six years, and he has never given me any problems,' said Mr Loh. 'He's a good worker. He's very hard-working, has initiative and is responsible.'

Mr Ng's daily routine at Conrad Centennial is simple. He unloads the seafood in the loading bay, gets an invoice stamped by the hotel worker who accepts the delivery and then drives off. He does not at any point enter the hotel itself.

As Mr Ng's boss, it would have been easy for Mr Loh to just walk away from the problem. But he felt it was unfair to his worker and said it would also cost him more to make the deliveries. Mr Loh said the hotel staff told him to write to the police instead, but he has yet to do so.

For now, he will have to find a replacement driver who can make deliveries to the hotel. Said Mr Loh: 'If I employ a part-time driver, it'll cost me $50 just to put him on stand-by if the hotel doesn't order from me that day.'

He will also have to pay commission to the driver for each delivery. All in, Mr Loh will incur at least $500 in extra costs for the 10 affected days. And that's on top of Mr Ng's basic pay of $1,300 a month, which Mr Loh will continue to pay.

Said Mr Ng, who previously worked for 15 years as a driver at a shipyard: 'When Mr Loh interviewed me, I told him upfront that I had a criminal record. 'But I told him that I have changed and that I would work hard.'

He said he got involved in a gang when he was 18 because he was 'not thinking'. 'But I've already been to jail, and I've been caned - and I think I've been punished enough.' He said he regrets his past actions and was grateful to Mr Loh for giving him a chance.

Mr Loh's concern now is that other ex-convicts may be similarly affected. He said: 'Because of this, employers might choose to sack drivers who might have criminal records and who are similarly banned from these specific areas.'

Mr Ng himself has an interesting poser. 'If I decide to have lunch at the hotel, does that mean I will be banned from doing that too?'

'Everyone deserves a second chance'

MR Michael Loh believes in giving second chances. And he gave Mr Ng just that despite two previous bad experiences.

Before Mr Ng started work at Fische Gourmet, Mr Loh said he had hired two ex-convicts as delivery men for his seafood supply business.

One was a former drug addict who had been in a drug rehabilitation centre. The other was an ex-convict who had served a jail term and had been caned. Mr Ng does not know what the second man's previous offence was. The first delivery man took drugs while driving and ended up crashing Mr Loh's delivery van.

'It was so badly damaged that it couldn't even be salvaged. I had to scrap it.' The other delivery man made off with $20,000 worth of Mr Loh's goods. Of that amount, $16,000 worth was recovered after Mr Loh made a police report.

Still, when Mr Ng - another ex-con - applied for the delivery job, Mr Loh didn't turn him away. He said: 'We all have our own pasts. The past is not important. We should look forward.' He said he believes not all ex-convicts are the same and that all deserve a chance.

'It's not easy for ex-convicts to find work. I just want to do my part to help,' he said.

Copyright © 2005 Singapore Press Holdings Ltd. Co. Regn. No. 198402868E. All rights reserved.
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A Nation In Concert vs Forbidden City

2006-09-12T19:20:00.000+08:00

In the header you'll see the titles of two shows, where the irony of it all is apparent only when placed beside each other. Earlier, I had failed to make the connection, until Jerry Siah of SPACES Community highlighted this in his thank you speech after a brilliant showing of A Nation In Concert. Two diametrically opposite themes presented at the same venue, separated by a velvet rope.

Picture ripped from www.anationinconcert.com

Getting the ticket to A Nation In Concert to support the hard work of a couple of friends was the easy part. I've to admit I've had reservations at first. You know how charity shows on TV make victims out of disadvantaged people to milk tears and donations?

Picture ripped from www.anationinconcert.com

Francis Louis Ler of Amor Meus did a more than fine job with his colourful and I mean COLOURFUL costumes! It was a riot of rainbow hues, diversity in unison, how apt! But I digress. What stole the show was having accomplished thespians working hand in hand with the people with special needs. And that smile on everyone's faces as they burst into song and dance. A grand show of talent, and everyone as equals on stage.

There are no victims here, so to speak. To me, this is why the show is a greater success than perhaps all the money it hopes to raise. Exactly what an inclusive society should be striving towards.

Kinetic Sculptures

2006-08-30T22:08:00.000+08:00

The walls between art and engineering exist only in our minds.

Picture taken off strandbeest.com

ypenburg / strandbeest0009

photo by loek van der klis 29-3-03

I haven’t heard about Dutch artist Theo Jansen. Until a chance sighting of the BMW commercial “Defining Innovation” today. Well I’m rather late in the day reporting this piece of news. But what I saw blew my mind. Not so much about how BMW wants us to believe that THEY define innovation (which I thought was perhaps a convenient tag on to a genius’ work), but Jansen’s breathtaking herd of animari ‘immense multi-legged walking critters designed to roam the Dutch coastline, feeding on gusts of wind’ as WIRED.COM writer Lakshmi Sandhana puts it so eloquently in her article.

As you would read from her illuminating prose, they are made with humble plastic tubes, and ‘over the years, successive generations of his creatures have evolved into increasingly complex animals that walk by flapping wings in response to the wind, discerning obstacles in their path through feelers and even hammering themselves into the sand on sensing an approaching storm.’ I’ll leave you here to figure out the science behind Theo Jansen's work.

Crazy Stone / Planet Pluto

2006-08-28T21:05:00.000+08:00

Heavily accented in Chongqing’s local dialect, Crazy Stone the movie, makes it hard even for the Chinese community elsewhere to comprehend. But like they say, language is no barrier to good work… much less an accent. The most memorable for me would be using the initialism of BMW, to coin the Chinese words 别摸我

Crazy Stone employs a storytelling device popular in recent times, where a particular outcome is explained from an ensuing series of perspectives (fleshing out various characters at the same time). The story goes like this. A company in financial distress has a rundown factory sitting on a piece of valuable real estate. The developer seizes the opportunity by offering to buy the land to build a condominium. Due to sentimental reasons, and the number of workers to be retrenched because of the buyout, the boss is resisting the urge to sell. On that piece of land they’d found a precious jade/diamond pendant, which they hope that by exhibiting, would help collect enough funds to tide things over.

The unfolding of the hilarious storyline follows, with 3 groups of people eyeing the treasure: the boss’ son; the developer with his hired professional thief; and a bungling trio of opportunists up against the guardians – the factory workers. In a low-tech security setup, the exhibition takes place inside of a temple. Someone came up with the bright idea of swapping the real McCoy with something China is famous for, real imitations. This is where the gem of the script shines. When the fake and the real McCoy get all mixed up.

Which right about comes to the point of this movie review anyway. I want to talk about truths and the human being’s obsession with the pursuit of the truth. Just like when facts are presented enshrined (as in the case of the jade/diamond pendant encased in its glass display), one just takes for granted its authenticity. Very few of us are armed with the tenacious scepticism that will unravel untruths, if any. Maybe it’s our lazy selves that make us accept the ‘facts’. Much said, it can be tiring to question all the time. Perhaps this is where our innate intuitive faculty comes into play. A strong feeling that will set the course of things onto their right path. Perhaps it is this unbeatable and undeniable emotion that makes us fight.

Elsewhere on 24th August 2006, the International Astronomical Union decided to downgrade Pluto’s status to that of a dwarf planet. Since its discovery in 1930, we have learnt in school that Pluto is the ninth planet in our solar system. Today, Pluto is no more, not a real planet so to speak, part of the kuiper belt. Some proponents are quick to add that we should just move on, nomenclature is of no consequence, that we should really get back to the ‘real’ work of uncloaking the mystery that shrouds the ice planet.

Picture taken from NASA Quest

I saw a documentary on Channel NewsAsia last night – ‘Bye Bye Planet Pluto’, apparently to coincide with the announcement of Pluto’s new status. What I did find interesting is the fact that the director of a space museum in NYC has held on to his contentious belief that Pluto does not belong and actually made the decision to exclude the ninth planet from the solar system model, much to the dismay of visiting school children. But it took another two astronomers 5 years to finally bring evidence that Pluto has neighbours.

For someone who is agnostic, verging on the atheist, the only truths in life are informed by science. And when scientific facts are proved otherwise, what does one believe in now? Or should we just stubbornly cling on to the things we choose to believe in?

Our Pledge

2006-08-22T14:45:00.000+08:00

We, the citizens of Singapore,
pledge ourselves as one united people,
regardless of race, language or religion,
to build a democratic society
based on justice and equality
so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and
progress for our nation.

A chain of events happened in recent times, triggering the dormant activist inside me. The ban on Nation party; the NKF expose; mr brown; Gayle Goh; General Elections 2006 (an especially emotional experience for a first-time voter at the ripe old age of 32); 'political' plays; civil disobedience; civil society... it's been exhilarating to say the least. For one, it has rekindled a sense of engagement with this place I call home. And it is only by engaging, that I will finally feel that I belong here.

2003 retrospective

2005-12-10T17:13:00.000+08:00

for you

c-o-n-n-e-c-t-e-d

I’d dug with a ferocity unknown
Fast and furious
Between dusk and dawn
With just one objective

Throwing up red earth
Burrowing with wild abandonment
A tenacity unheard of
To be finally entrenched in hollow void

This will be my shelter for now
A lonesome subterranean stakeout
One person in a great two-man ditch
Defending a lost battle

And there within my arc of fire
Crossed out on the range card
Stands one olive tree in stoic silence
The compass of my existence

I stare in wonderment at Nature
Forlorn in the reverie of an Epicurean
Entangled in its intricate foliage
The perfect cover for subversive desires

While the waiting game embarks upon itself
Field rations, 1 man x 24 hours
Counterfeit gourmet delights
Dinner without buddy
Surely I can at least try to make-believe

Run, running all the time
Running to the future
With you right by my side
Running, running as fast as we can
Do you think we’ll make it?
We’re running, keep holding my hand
So we don’t get separated
Be, be the one I need
Be the one I trust most
Don’t stop inspiring me

Excerpt from Running by No Doubt

Ok, can’t message anymore
Talk to you tomorrow… Sorry…
Got to go… Apologies, weeknights are reserved…
Surely I can at least try to get used to these words

As you left
I was wishing the billowing sheets
Will swallow my entirety
Extinguishing the moment

Just a while ago, you’d lay down beside
My body found its gravity
Was it for real
Or just a figment of my fertile imagination

All too soon you’re gone
And I am setback by a reluctant flightiness
The corporeal gives way to the ethereal
A gust of wind comes and snatches away all traces

One moment of blissful union
Translates into another week of estranged torment
How can forever
Be thus short-lived
While the waiting game embarks upon itself again

Oftentimes I search in vain for second best
To stave off this crazed yearning
Devouring this incredible void you’d vacated in a hurry
To satiate this famished craving
Alas...

The English and The Chinese (language)

2005-10-06T12:10:00.000+08:00

One bright day, something struck me. It could be caused by the innocuous act of staring too hard at the drawn shutters of the now-defunct dessert shop along Boon Tat Street. You know? Like those static patterns that trick the eye into believing that it's animated?

But I digress. Its name had the Chinese characters of North South East West jumbled up in a bid to create a unique proposition? But this spells its doom from the onset. Cos it's unrecognisable and difficult to register –- much less to make any sense of.

Which brings me to the great East-West divide. The English language expresses North-South, East-West as diametically opposite entities. The Chinese language however describes the same cardinal points in a clockwise manner East South West North, suggesting a centrifugal force maybe? Does this stem from the fact that the very choice of the name China 中国 -- the middle kingdom -- has its language designed to reflect that same philosophy?

Some time ago, a visitor from San Francisco was curious about the 1-for-1 happy hour promotions we got here. In his country, the same thing goes by 2-for-1. Like how acronym-crazed locals coined SMS, which is actually a very technical term on hindsight, describing a function as opposed to a more personable and active word like TEXT. Like how the rest of the world DELETE their emails while Google implores us to DISCARD instead?

Years ago, I was along the Mekong River in the World Heritage Site of Laos, namely Luang Prabang. Looking across the bank, I saw foreigners dressed in crisp white linen, blinding in the scorching sun. In stark contrast, the locals there were wearing earth tones blending in with the landscape. I'm not sure why this observation has caused me to ruminate then and even now as I write.

And quite nicely too. One of my all-time favourite books "In Praise of Shadows" by Junichiro Tanizaki bemoans Westernisation as he wanders through the dimly-lit Asian abodes, describing an aesthetic born out of contemplative shadows that has all but eroded today...

The Day after Children's Day

2005-09-30T22:33:00.000+08:00

Back from my hiatus. It feels strange to be holed up in the office on a friday evening. A quick check on MSN messenger reveals zero contacts online. Everyone has a life indeed! Before i forget, go read www.xanga.com/vinyarb for some real neat stuff.

It's the time of the year again. Birthdays are such melancholic events. I wonder why people celebrate melancholia and place such importance on a bunch of melting candles (ok ok i'm getting older). Maybe it's the photo opportunity. Maybe it's the urge to blow out the sparks of life. Extinguish. Exterminate. An excuse alright.

Please excuse me. This is not a tirade against the elderly or those like myself who seem to be careening toward the officially published figure that is the life expectancy of the average male. And i seriously believe i'm not being seditious here. I love old people. Ok ok let me qualify that. I R-E-S-P-E-C-T them. But i just hate getting there all by my own lonely self. You know what i mean. I believe it's the lack of sleep that's causing all this animosity, this rage against two very small numbers, 3 & 2.

But the best things happen at this time too. Ex-boyfriends, flings and friends all seem to remember the date but not the person. After a year of neglect, staying out of touch and tending to our very very busy modern lifestyle, suddenly a text message appears to wish you well, to fix an appointment for breakfast lunch and dinner... or more in other instances... ha...
It definitely feels good to be writing again. Birthday or not.

helping ourselves

2005-07-29T05:00:00.000+08:00

Now what I really want to talk about is the concept of Charity. Formed to help the disadvantaged, charities in general serve a higher purpose to advance man’s selfish nature – that of ameliorating our conscience. Indulge the bigot in me yah?

Every Singaporean growing up on the island state would have at one point or other, be assigned to perform community work. I’ve had a few encounters in my teenage years. Singing oldies to the elderly. Struggling to chat with them in what little dialect I can muster up intelligibly. Doing good include cleaning the endless rows of louvered windows of dilapidated quarters housing these ‘poor’ people, as well as dishing out treats and foods etc. All in a day’s work. And I can regale about it afterwards.

Volunteerism isn’t exactly in my blood. In my young adult days, I’ve helped disseminate sex safe messages to freelance hustlers under AFA’s outreach programme. But never persevered due to a simple fact: disgusted that I was volunteering for all the wrong reasons. The act of choosing a cause to support is already in itself a selfish act. Well maybe except for Mother Teresa.

Helping others became a desperate act of helping oneself. To vicariously gain happiness, recognition… even find escape… giving tainted by GAIN – something I can’t ever reconcile.

Rattled

2005-07-29T03:25:00.000+08:00

The NKF saga. Now I’m still trying to make ‘cents’ of the recent scandal. It brings to mind many issues concerning the stratospheric remuneration (ring any bells?) of persons belonging to the upper strata in Singapore. A concept too elusive for commoners like myself to grasp.

All I can see are the almost obscene numbers quoted, and a feeble justification of those same numbers – from the peanuts comment by NKF’s then patron, to the lack of a swift public inquiry into the matter (or was there obvious reluctance?). Admittedly, I’ve unwittingly succumbed to the sensationalised situation and allowed my heart to rule over subsequent rational thought.

But these things are truly beyond me and definitely beyond my control. Or so I thought. The public’s money is at stake here. And for once realised that ordinary people have very tangible power. Money talks, very loudly indeed. The powerful had no choice but to sit up and intervene, when regulars cancelled their contributions to Singapore’s biggest and most successful charity. This is perhaps the closest we have to standing up for justice.

The Singaporean psyche is an interesting one. We’re a people united in the pursuit of economic well-being. Where we’re socially programmed to act according to a slew of penalties designed to make us PAY for misbehaviour. Not surprisingly that when our money is misused, or when we’re ‘fooled’ into parting with our hard-earned moolah, things got a little nasty.

Recently on TV, there is a massive onslaught of trailers on the upcoming President’s Star Charity. Viewers are assured that all phone-in donations go directly to the beneficiaries. If my memory can be trusted, in previous years, the Telcom handling the phone-ins charge for each call made, citing operational costs.

Is there such a thing as a Singaporean culture?

2005-07-07T03:08:00.000+08:00

I’m muddled after catching the opening ceremony of the 117th IOC session in Singapore, to decide which city will host the 2012 summer games. First of all, TV personality and host for the night, Vivien Tan was all tensed-stiff and shaking? delivering her lines. Her uneasiness was perhaps magnified as suave Nicholas Fang (Singapore’s top fencer) took the limelight by rattling away with characteristic French flair! I was thinking about the ‘gift’ from Singapore to the IOC, a special orchid hybrid inventively named Vanda IOC. It didn’t look any much different from our national flower seriously. And as it was making its dramatic entrance rising on a column from the stage… all of its fragile fronds were shaking so vigorously, I was worried that the stems pregnant with full blooms will snap… hmm… I’m sure there’s a better way to present a pot of plant.

And then there’s Gani, the main man behind the show. He did a great job by being himself, again, screaming and doing his characteristic one-leg stomping dance, paired off with jerking body movements, painted eyes etc. And in customary Singapore fashion, the sequence of performance was conveniently categorised into traditional Malay, Chinese and Indian segments, fusing into Modern Asian-something. For all the good intentions of the finale song “One voice. One rhythm.” (or something similar, but you get the gist) I’m just wondering why wasn’t one of our stellar performers presenting it? It was excruciating to listen to everyone trying to sing it – in harmony.

But what really got me started on this thread was the projection of a Singaporean culture to the world, which I find problematic. As I sat before the television set, I felt like I may be in another part of the world. Watching a curious mix of Oriental exoticism. Is this us? Is this Singapore? Yes, we’re a melting pot of cultures but last night’s offering saw us desperately clinging on to cultures that bear no meaning to me (born and bred here no less), borrowing heavily on age-old traditions that I’m not even aware of. It’s a pathetic effort at instant culture. Four decades ago, we have sort of renounced our roots, to band together to speak a common language, erased our traditions to make progress more efficient. So that we’re as clean as a white sheet of paper. And when there’s a need to fill that gaping void, to tell others who we are, we rustle up something quickly, by acquisition, adoption or association. No doubt, this is highly convenient and efficacious. But I’m just wondering aloud again, what message will the world take away from last night’s show? For all the projected millions of dollars worth of advertising mileage that we will gain from hosting this high-profile event, I’m just as clueless too.

coffeeshops, couriers & (street) corners

2005-06-21T10:37:00.000+08:00

i for one, would always prefer the kopitiam (coffeeshop) to hawker centres. it's less competitive and offers more focus in terms of cuisine variety. less to choose from = an easier choice. non-foodies like myself would appreciate this. now if you frequent coffeeshops in the city, one peculiarity becomes obvious. Local couriers make these their base through a spoken or unspoken arrangement with the owners. it's the source of their distribution system. their communication hub. their tea break. their holding point. it's interesting to see cheques, urgent parcels change hands on the tables. amidst breakfast/lunch leftovers. this is where they find comraderie amongst fellow dispatch riders. sharing information about weather, road conditions and ridiculous timelines.
at the next street corner, there is activity of another sort going on. they hog parks and open spaces as their collection points for the business of recycling. one such 'family' is a permanent fixture at the junction of boon tat and amoy streets. apparently all the pantry ladies in the nearby offices know where to 'throw' their stuff. a collection of mismatched stools, pails, cups and flasks stacked neatly marks the spot. taken out of context, it would look like any other kitchen. an old woman preparing ingredients for a feast later. flowers similar to that offered for religious worship is arranged. washing is done using water from a nearby pond. bread is fed to the pigeons. a black stray dog bears their tag of ownership. come evenings, the industrious activity of the mornings (ok so i'm always late for work) come to a halt. late nights, some members of the 'family' can be seen sleeping along the 5 foot ways of the shophouses...

of blubber, babble & bubbles

2005-06-18T05:24:00.000+08:00

something i haven't done in a while. waking up early for coffee on a saturday morning. this i did last weekend. gone to starbucks at plaza singapura, only to realise that my favourite concoction, the ice-shaken espresso with vanilla is no more. the caffeine maestro behind the counter didn't quite comfort me when she said that that was one of her favourite drinks too. so cafe latte it shall be. it was a balmy morning. and the crowds were just streaming in. i was staring into blank space. and trying to cook up interesting headlines for a piece of work. diagonally to my right was a tent stocked with toys and games from carrefour. a totally disinterested and distracted sales assistant was using the soap-bubble gun to entice people to browse. kids loved 'em bubbles. and then i noticed another 'bubble'. a woman in her thirties perhaps? the heavyweight champion was sauntering towards the outdoor benches. and when she sat, the fats in the middle bulged to form a life buoy of sorts. and there she was bobbing in her blubber, all the time eating out of a styrofoam box. just then the starbucks maestro popped out of nowhere (presumably clearing the tables) to remark that 'twas a beautiful morning, the kind of mornings that she dug and urged me to call for service should i need it. at starbucks? since when have they upped their service standards?

the great procrastinator

2005-06-09T04:49:00.000+08:00

now how does one keep at this? writing relentlessly. keeping to a writing schedule. a strange feeling came over me just the weekend past. for all the freedom i want from my closest family, verging on the irresponsible at times, i'm starting to appreciate the anchor of family ties. or maybe this is just one of those vulnerable situations that gets to one's head from one too many weddings and overwhelming tea ceremonies? it's like in the great rustle of life, after all that floating about and drifting around, relief can finally be found at rest... and it feels real good to be rooted down!

radiating aura

2005-06-08T15:03:00.000+08:00

some time ago, on channelnewsasia's primetime morning, some east-west cuisine guru was extrapolating the dichotomy of eastern dishes vs western ones into socio-cultural nuances such as (you guessed it!) –- personal space. she was espousing some philosophical mumbo jumbo about how asians are used to very tight community spaces compared to westerners... unfortunately i didn't tune in long enough to find out how this impacts on our local eating habits.
in one of the many random thoughts that ran through my mind at lunch today, this tiny episode found its way into my head. the accumulation of personal space manifests an obsessive territorial claim... a highly addictive activity that has resulted in a little idiosyncrasy of mine. most apparent: like the searching for cafes/diners that are sparsely patronised over the quality of food/service; empty pools; standing space at the bars; a handshake vs a hug/kiss; people in the elevators/at bus stops; cigarette smoke; music/sound... there's this urgent need to preserve this invisible bubble... an untainted sphere of 'me'... a deliberate detachment of sorts perhaps?

mundae

2005-06-06T16:12:00.000+08:00

it's been an intoxicating week last. literally intoxicated with drinking bouts from wednesday right through friday. think i'd overdid it. but was nice to be hanging out with different people for each session. i'm inspired by people who can write daily in their blogs. think i'm better off just consolidating 'em thoughts. like today. was it friday then tat this woman with hair all wrapped in foil was seen running all the way to the POSBank at chinatown point, crossing a busy thoroughfare, cutting through the lunch crowd? the people of chinatown never fail to surprise. tat same day i was swimming at the new mount faber safra. much to my dismay, the poor design of changing rooms left much to be desired. sensor touch taps aren't working. and there seems to be a perpetual problem about locker room space. those who use work out at safra town club will know wat i mean.

got a call on saturday afternoon from a movie kaki. and was happy that i'd be catching batman returns. and i tot, wow i must be one of the very few to catch the sneak preview. i should have known to trust my gut feel. still managing to get tickets on a saturday afternoon for sucha hot movie? something must be amiss. it turned out that the tickets were booked for 18 jun instead. but the boo boo turned out rather nicely. had a leisurely dinner at ah meng cafe over at orchard plaza. you should really check out their menu offerings. amazing cornucopia of glorious gluttony.

sunday. cousin's wedding. strange that the unmarried ones like myself were served tea. my weak protests were ignored. i was totally embarrassed to say the least. thank goodness i was spared questions about my singlehood. altho my grandma had skillfully slipped in a comment. can't remember now. i've mustered the art of not hearing wat i don't want to listen to.

half a year later

2005-05-30T13:34:00.000+08:00

it's been raining over the new year weekend. everything's wet and cold and soggy. just like the fries i was eating a moment ago. watever happened to crisp sunny days on this tropical isle?

6 months ago, i'd moved to chinatown. and 6 months later i still feel like a stranger juxtaposed here. can't appreciate the good food, or the dirty habits of the residents. the public areas are filthy. the lift interiors musky. old folks are feeding the stray cats and pigeons. cats i can tolerate. not pigeons like those in trafalgar square.

just caught "I want to be famous" at my favourite cinema Orchard Cineleisure. took the longest time to get home. jams caused by the incessant drizzle.

from the glamourous shopping belt to chinatown. the difference is glaring. at staircase landings, sheltered walkways, one can always observe someone else's belongings. neatly stacked furniture and cartons. carefully locked and chained to the nearest rainwater pipe.

the profusion of poor people here is startling. i've never seen anything like this in all my 31 years growing up in singapore. and i tot there aren't any poor people in singapore. i am so wrong.

while i sit at coffee bean at chinatown point, tat sorry monolithic shopping mall, a cleaner comes up to me to ask for a cigarette. freelance fortune tellers cajole me into having my destiny told. two able-bodied men walked ahead of me. noticed that one of them didn't have footwear on. they were hungry. they walked right into the tent of a wake and asked if there was any food left. at the overhead bridge, an old woman sits on the wooden floor with hands outreached, begging...

lay to rest

2005-05-27T16:04:00.000+08:00

Silence — that curious ache; stupefying
that incessant hum of modern life; extinguishing
that keen sense of hearing; accentuating
that yawning vacuum of sound; celebrating
that anti-thesis of perceptibility — FALLING
SILENT — that anomaly of verbosity; punctuating
that pregnant pause — that curiously aching silence