Might Be Mad

In the same way that we cannot fathom the thought processes of the mentally retarded, the workings of the local immigration service is likewise lost on me, and indeed a lot of people. I just can't understand why it takes so long to stamp a few pages, check faces, and do that little thing with the computer that the officials do... if matters are already computerised, how difficult is it to clear cars and people waiting to cross the causeway for whatever reason they might have? Instead, the jams at the causeway checkpoints between Malaysia and Singapore are always so bad, it's got people muttering murder. But perhaps i've been hasty. No disrespect to the state employees doing the best that they're capable of, given the tools and training they've been issued (whether it's part of Asian manners, an actual legal requirement, prudence or whatever, this “no disrespect” clause is a given when discussing public affairs and officials in Singapore, and I shan't be foun...

I'm pretty old-fashioned with regards to music in church, and am thankful that the one i attend only has a very limited (relatively speaking) repertoire in praise of God, comprising psalms, and hymns. Limited in the sense that we're not very adventurous and would baulk at say, Christian Rock, Christian Jazz or whatever. But still, it's better than singing some three-line thing and repeating it over and over, which in this day passes for devotional music in not a few churches. But let me leave church music proper for a future post; its importance warrants exlusive treatment. Here, i should just like to comment on the singing. I don't know if many Christians realise this, but singing in church is an act of sacrifice/service to God. It is a part of worship. As the heathen offer incense, meats, etc., to their particular gods and deities, Christians offer up our voices to God in worship. What does this entail? For me, several things. The singing is not about us, but God; so ...

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” John 1:1-4 “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.” John 1:14 “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.” John 6:63 One of the questions that keeps coming up among Christians, is whether one should read the Bible literally, or figuratively. Loosely speaking, the ultra-conservatives preach the former – hell, the great flood, the resurrection, etc., are all real; whereas Christians of the more modern ilk take greater liberties with the scriptures, such that bits in t...

I feel I ought to say something about this matter; I owe her this much at least, for the pleasure she has given me through her soul-rending music -- I am talking about Jiang Meiqi, one of my favourite singers in Chinese Pop. She has a most beautiful voice, but for some reason, she's never quite hit big time, even if people generally have praise for her work. Perhaps it's because she's not impossibly pretty -- at least in the conventional sense, which seems to be the necessary ingredient for pop starlets that the record industry wheels out like pretty confections on a conveyor belt. But Jiang Meiqi is pretty. A bit on the tanned side, and she looks ordinary even; there's a certain willfulness in the shape of her jutting jaw and lips, and her nose is a little too large. But what an ensemble they form with her eyes, which are large, full of emotion, vulnerability and yet an utter absence of self-consciousness. A picture of perfection in imperfection, I would say. Of cours...

It's an ongoing series based on a popular manga, so on some days, i find myself in a state of withdrawal as I wait for the fan groups to work out the subtitles. Excellent stuff and so off-beat, with the funniest dialogue, and the subbers have done a brilliant job, including the wealth of contextual information and cultural references. In brief, it's centred on the life and adventures of the members of an odd-job agency (more like a surrogate family), who are more than what they'd care to admit, set in a Japan that melds sci-fi (alien oppressors, spaceships, thinking robots) and post-Samurai era where the carrying of swords have been banned except for the police and militia (sort of like Samurai X, or the period of the Meiji Restoration, where samurais were forbidden to bear their swords...). This is done wonderfully, and besides, it's such a wonderful metaphor for change, the hazy transition period between the classical age and a subsequent one taking shape at breakneck...

"He could hardly look at himself after having violated such a young girl. In the mirror he saw her face approaching. Startled by its fresh, poignant beauty, Oki turned round to her. She touched his shoulder, nestled her face against his chest, and said:'I love you.'"

Yesterday and old friend and i had tea, and we drank to "Uncertainty". Perhaps it sounds a little contrived, a scene crafted for some self-important short film; but I assure the reader, it was not. Every time we gather... which is not often, considering our busy schedules, we feel a little roughed up by life, and just relish the comfort of each other's company like a pair of stray dogs licking wounds. In our daily dealings with lots of people, it's pretty vexing that we seem surrounded by a whole cohort of people who are always so sure of everything. It's like being the sole infidel in a cult gathering. People are always so sure of what plagues the world, along with the necessary steps to make things right thing; never flinching from making bold judgements, partitioning blame; that so-and-so should shut up and die, that so-and-so deserved the calamity that befell him or her; that so-and-so sucks ass. Why is everyone so sure about everything? So confident? Is it an...

More than 200 episodes later, probably amounting to some 100 hours, i feel I owe a few words to my latest obsession – Naruto, the anime series. A good friend of mine has used the word “Narutard” on me (it would have been hurtful if not also used with a feeling of endearment), I have not felt any great urge to spend time with people in general (only very close male friends fall outside of this... I shall talk about friends and gender in another post) when I could just go home and watch another ten episodes of Naruto at a go... In the meantime, my reading has suffered. Melacholy Whores lies untouched, a colleague's copy of Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises is neglected, while a Japanese for Dummies remains in its cellophane wrap weeks after it was purchased on impulse without a discount. I think the Naruto series has enough young fans that another glowing review is not really necessary. At the same time, I feel I must give my two cents' worth, so that perhaps those who'v...

"Time expands and contracts. When it expands, it's like a pitch: it folds people in its arms and holds them forever in its embrace. It doesn't let us go very easily. Sometimes you go back again to the place you've just come from, stop and close your eyes, and realise that not a second has passed, and time just leaves you there, stranded, in the darkness."

"The tears I shed lately, particularly those linked to memories, were all but meaningless. They came out on their own, like bird shit. My dad knew this, and kept quiet."