This week I have mostly been enjoying the tropical festive season. Although it appears to be just an excuse to encourage people to shop more, not sure that’s actually possible for some of the dedicated locals. Some arse clown has decided that it would be really cool to stick squeaky things in kids shoes, which is annoying at the best of times, but horrendous this time of year. Imagine 100 kids in a shopping mall with a rubber ducky strapped to each foot and you have an idea of what I’m talking about. Locals love ‘em, I want to punch ‘em.
Our patch has become a nightmare, particularly as Orchard Rd is lit up like a … Christmas tree. This means every amateur photographer on the island, and there are plenty, is drawn to the lights smacking you in the shins with a tripod at every turn. In the true spirit of the Singaporean Christmas the lights are sponsored, this year brought to us by Hitachi and Visa. Pizza Hut has even got in to the spirit with the alarmingly pink Holly Jolly Pizza. http://www.pizzahut.com.sg/html/home/index_20051122.asp
We were planning to our bit for Australian culture and head to Arab St with a couple of Aussie flags and some iron pipes. But I’ve hurt my back and can hardly put on my pants let alone swing an iron bar. So I went to see an osteopath instead. Turns out he had spent some time in Aus and had some interesting ideas on how to defuse the situation.
But not as interesting as his ideas for dealing with drug traffickers, which perhaps provided more of an insight as to why he got into manipulating spines for a living. He thought capital punishment was wrong but if he was the homeland minister then he would use drug traffickers to train new recruits on how to beat up prisoners and even use “electrical stimulation”. He went on to explain that way they would be punished every month for the rest of their lives. Nice.
Today I saw a woman with a shirt that said “I love vintage Mickey” I don’t, it stinks a bit.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Lost Blog
This other week I mostly managed to delete a blog, which was an accident and was down to me trying to sort out the email settings. I won’t even try to remember what was in there apart from the rather unsavoury behaviour from Pinchy who did his shell shedding thing and then proceeded to eat his own head.
It was around this time that we also went to the Terrorism exhibition at the recently opened National Library. It was memorable for two things; The National Library is a joke and the exhibition was a bigger one. The National Library is an impressive building but it would appear they spent the entire budget on the building and forgot the pretty crucial element to any library; the books.
We got there with 30 mins to spare before closing following a pre exhibition bevvy and were warned by the guard that we would have to hurry. Turns out you could get there 1 1/2 minutes before closing and still see everything. At this point we weren’t to know so we raced down to the lower ground floor, past the rows of empty shelves to the exhibition tucked away in a corner next to some more empty shelves.
Despite all the press and TV advertising the whole thing was set up with the appearance of something of an after thought. Sniggering loudly is considered inappropriate behaviour in a library and probably even more so at a terrorist exhibition, but there was nothing else to do as we filed past the shop front mannequins dressed up as terrorists.
Apparently people that stand with an unusual lean wearing green lab coats and balaclavas are to be approached with caution they are more than likely part of the Pembela Islam Islamic Salvation Front. You should also keep an eye out for kids in T shirts jeans and sneakers they are suicide bombers.
The exhibition was then taken up with some pretty gruesome pictures of the Tamil Tiger’s handiwork that included a lot of shooting hacking and burning. So we legged it with 28 minutes to go before closing and enjoyed a very fine Spanish meal at Chijmes instead.
It was around this time that we also went to the Terrorism exhibition at the recently opened National Library. It was memorable for two things; The National Library is a joke and the exhibition was a bigger one. The National Library is an impressive building but it would appear they spent the entire budget on the building and forgot the pretty crucial element to any library; the books.
We got there with 30 mins to spare before closing following a pre exhibition bevvy and were warned by the guard that we would have to hurry. Turns out you could get there 1 1/2 minutes before closing and still see everything. At this point we weren’t to know so we raced down to the lower ground floor, past the rows of empty shelves to the exhibition tucked away in a corner next to some more empty shelves.
Despite all the press and TV advertising the whole thing was set up with the appearance of something of an after thought. Sniggering loudly is considered inappropriate behaviour in a library and probably even more so at a terrorist exhibition, but there was nothing else to do as we filed past the shop front mannequins dressed up as terrorists. Apparently people that stand with an unusual lean wearing green lab coats and balaclavas are to be approached with caution they are more than likely part of the Pembela Islam Islamic Salvation Front. You should also keep an eye out for kids in T shirts jeans and sneakers they are suicide bombers.
The exhibition was then taken up with some pretty gruesome pictures of the Tamil Tiger’s handiwork that included a lot of shooting hacking and burning. So we legged it with 28 minutes to go before closing and enjoyed a very fine Spanish meal at Chijmes instead.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Chicken Hat
This week I have mostly been re acquainting myself with Singapore and all that is odd in the place. This is because we have just returned from a week long sanity check fact finding mission in Aus. One of the facts I found was that there is actually real live music out there, not the cover band crap we have to put up with here. A pleasant afternoon was spent at Homebake in Sydney catching some fine toons including what was pretty much a Crowded House gig with all the members that hadn’t killed themselves up on stage with the elder Finn and some other Split Enz people. It seemed a million miles away from crap cover bands like “Six in da City” who we had the misfortune to see in Singapore following a comedy session at the 1 night stand.
It was a little difficult to escape Singapore when in Aus due to the country's tenacity when it comes to hanging drug traffickers. As unfortunate as the incident was, that’s the rules and they love rules here, so no surprise there was no negotiation. The incident hardly caused a stir here, in fact the only reason people knew about it was due to the stir the Aus media made. Normally the hangman quietly goes about his business and people get on with their shopping and eating safe in the knowledge that bad people are being dangled from a length of rope. Although a very brave journo did write an article questioning the whole thing in the Government owned Straits Times. I think he is due for execution some time next week.
In sharp contrast to killing people, it appears Singapore was quite busy in our absence developing a preventative cure for Hepatitis A and B; it is the humble Kleenex and they were giving the cure away for free at the lights at Tampines Central. Singporians love free stuff so it was quite a fight to get my pack. They were probably also keen get their hands on a packet as the locals use them to reserve a table at the hawker markets. There is an unwritten law that says if there is a packet on a table then it is reserved. Elliot, the occasional foot drinker has a master plan to run around the hawker markets just before they open and put a packet on every table and sit back and watch the implosion as the locals try to work out whether or not they are brave enough to break the law, even if it is only an unwritten one.
I have been a little slack of late in my efforts to get to work favouring cab over the MRT train ride. So I decided to catch the MRT last Friday to see how my fellow commuters were and if anyone had missed me. Turned out they hadn’t, they were all too busy sleeping standing up and invading your public space to notice my return. But I was intrigued to discover that the MRT is running a competition to find the best station, encouraging commuters to vote in this annual event. I am planning to skew their results by voting for the Buangkok station, I have never been there, but did report earlier the hooha over this station and people dialling 999 to complain about white elephant cut outs on the station fence. As soon as I can find out how to vote on line I will be encouraging people to do the same.
I am not typically in the habit of wearing chicken or pork on my head, but it’s nice to know you can have it if you ask.
It was a little difficult to escape Singapore when in Aus due to the country's tenacity when it comes to hanging drug traffickers. As unfortunate as the incident was, that’s the rules and they love rules here, so no surprise there was no negotiation. The incident hardly caused a stir here, in fact the only reason people knew about it was due to the stir the Aus media made. Normally the hangman quietly goes about his business and people get on with their shopping and eating safe in the knowledge that bad people are being dangled from a length of rope. Although a very brave journo did write an article questioning the whole thing in the Government owned Straits Times. I think he is due for execution some time next week.
In sharp contrast to killing people, it appears Singapore was quite busy in our absence developing a preventative cure for Hepatitis A and B; it is the humble Kleenex and they were giving the cure away for free at the lights at Tampines Central. Singporians love free stuff so it was quite a fight to get my pack. They were probably also keen get their hands on a packet as the locals use them to reserve a table at the hawker markets. There is an unwritten law that says if there is a packet on a table then it is reserved. Elliot, the occasional foot drinker has a master plan to run around the hawker markets just before they open and put a packet on every table and sit back and watch the implosion as the locals try to work out whether or not they are brave enough to break the law, even if it is only an unwritten one.
I have been a little slack of late in my efforts to get to work favouring cab over the MRT train ride. So I decided to catch the MRT last Friday to see how my fellow commuters were and if anyone had missed me. Turned out they hadn’t, they were all too busy sleeping standing up and invading your public space to notice my return. But I was intrigued to discover that the MRT is running a competition to find the best station, encouraging commuters to vote in this annual event. I am planning to skew their results by voting for the Buangkok station, I have never been there, but did report earlier the hooha over this station and people dialling 999 to complain about white elephant cut outs on the station fence. As soon as I can find out how to vote on line I will be encouraging people to do the same.
I am not typically in the habit of wearing chicken or pork on my head, but it’s nice to know you can have it if you ask.
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