Blank Doll

ok, I know the A levels are coming up but studying till 1 30 am is ridiculous. And it gives you zits.

You hear that Val?!

Cheerios.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll yells.

All right all right I'm sorry if I've been mean to blogger. Just don't force me to switch back to livejournal and I'll never call you dumb again.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

All right, blogger, work properly now.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll shouts yay.

Weather in Singapore will be the death of me. It is so hot! Just came back from a run and remembered what it feels like to have perspiration trailing down my spine- not a good sensation at all. Just two more years, two more years and *poof* a tres bientot, ma petite Singapour!

Note to self: Find the best artisan bakery you can in Singapore, do we even have one? and ask for a cramique and an olive bread.

I still love Singapore and I'm very proud of our little country because we just run like clockwork! I love that, this is what makes me so proud of Singapore. Order.
It's really the disgusting margarine-licked toasted plastic bread with milo masquerading as hot chocolate that I cannot stand.

Oh oh, I shall do the impossible and refresh my memory in three days in time for tuesday's mock history exam and then I should be ready to begin real revision for the A levels.

Pray I get my straight As this time round.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

Bloody blogger refuses to let me rant. YOU WILL HEAR FROM ME.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll speaks.

Damn, pity I was away in Paris when this whole thing happened. How shall I put it? I'm not as good with words as Miss. Wee nor as, well, experienced in the real world as Mr. Wee. Nonetheless, I am fuming over the issue and since I have used the word 'fuming', this is going to be an unreasonable (not necessarily unreasoned though it will most probably be the case) biased rant on my part. I do not intend to be 'responsible' since if I am not wrong- what was it people also wanted from the government?- oh right, freedom. Alas, I am also 18 like Miss. Wee, actually, not even 18 since Indochine refuses to hand over the bloody Mimosa and I have to make do with mineral water.

Oh, I am also not a debator and really, the Hegelian dialetic so often linked with reason and logic does not lend itself to unreasonable, childish ranting so bear with me if I do not do the two hand thing since Mr. Wee and his fellow friends have already given one hand and Miss. Wee the other.

Let's deal with the 'you're the government, you deal with it' slant first. Miss. Wee disagrees and Mr. Wee thinks that yes, the government should have a role to play in protecting the people from the evil forces of competition, from the uncertainties of tomorrow, from our suddenly fragile ricebowls (ignoring the fact of course that Mr. Wee actually has a ricebowl but we of course do not thank the government for such a given thing). Now, clearly reasonable people will be able to read also that the government should protect us from income inequality, from class divisions, from social equity.

First, the issue on government. The same people call for, oh right, freedom of press, civil freedom, increased citizen participation and that the government cede the political ground over to the people. In a boom, we all want freedom, it's like the 18 year olds moving out of their parents' house. So we demand that Singapore be a, oh this is my favourite, a Western style liberal democracy. Ignoring the fact that this also means you take care of yourself, that the government should not even be intervening in your lives, much less care about whether uncertainty is good or bad, they want freedom AND a government that deals with the vagaries of life. What they really want, though they will not say this hiding as they are behind their bleeding heart grievances and logical argument about social contracts, is a Western style Welfarist state where they may go cradle-to-grave crippled with the comforting arms of the government holding on to them. Choose, either a government that lets you do your own thing even if that means you screw up once in a while, or a government that takes care of you and then for crying out loud, do as you're told.

Second, the issue here is that government should do something about uncertainty. Mr. Wee apparently thinks that the government can and should do something about it, ignoring the fact that Singapore does not happen to be a superpower and that Singapore built her very fortune on uncertainty. Let us assume that the government does have a role to play in regulating income equalities in our country for now even if I do not agree with it. This is a separate issue from the government insuring your future and it is unacceptable to obscure the horizon by mixing them both together. What Mr. Wee wants the government to do now is something, anything, to make sure that our ricebowls stay the way they are come what may. How does our government do that? How can it possible contemplate doing that? He mentions the brilliance of our fellow neighbours. Well, he should have realized that they were there all along. Do we not dismiss their worth? Do we, as Singaporeans, not delude ourselves into thinking that because we have been more successful than them that surely, we are better than them? How can our government then guarantee iron ricebowls when even Mr. Wee has seen for himself the competition we face? Miss. Wee may have been particularly unsympathetic but this is the reality and our government has tried to do something about it, even if it means even more uncertainty in the future. At this point, I would like Mr. Wee to take a look at France. France is another country worried about its future (all developed nations do at one point or another, fair enough that Mr. Wee gave voice and a face to this underlying current in our society). The government protects its industries, the government gives them minimum wages, the government restricts immigration, the government spends so much on its present security it forgets about investing in the future. Well, France has an unemployment rate of nearly 10%, it's growth is absymal and in thirty years time, could possibly see itself pushed out of the world's top ten economies. France is a huge nation with a vast bank of past wealth conserved- Singapore is not and cannot afford to cosset its citizens because if it does, there may not be a future.

All right, no stupid dialetic but I can see where Mr. Wee is coming from. He is old (actually 35 is not old, Mme Chanel began her business anew at the age of 70) and has children to feed and cannot be certain of where he will live in his old age (a fine notion indeed since uncertainty of the future could include uncertainty about future filial piety). I will concede that his generation has it tough what with most of them not having the required qualification to compete with his younger, more upbeat competitors. Nonetheless, he does have a job and it feeds him well enough I think if he may spend his time blogging and not out in the city slogging his life away in the hope of earning enough money to buy food. Nevermind that he could very well have been a subordinate clerk working in Indonesia while someone else blogs about how terribly competent these Singaporeans have become if the government had been anything less than spectacular in the formative years of Singapore's history. Since I am also a teenager, I am allowed to bring in personal examples (if General Paper allows it, then blogging certainly does). My mother has only her O levels and they aren't even very good O level grades yet she has slogged very hard and today earns a more than decent income. The truth is, mediocrity in our society is very much the consequence of choice more than circumstances. You choose to lament in your comfortable mid-managerial position with time to blog while my mother is out all hours of the day working her arse off without even the time to properly learn how to use the damn computer. So perhaps Miss. Wee was also justified in saying what she did though certainly in a less passionate tone since we seem so particularly fond of crying foul in a group when a single person speaks a little too loudly.

And I never did like taxi drivers anyway with their penchant for voting for the opposition regardless of what the government has done and their conspiracist theories about Mrs. Lee and the evil Temasek Holding. The one thing they certainly are not complaining about is the taxi fare hike though even that I am sure, will have some grist for their mill.

On to the next issue then shall we? This concerns all the tutting and booing by people over what Miss. Wee has said. What was it about youth empowerment that even bloggers like Mr. Wang supports? Oh right, that youth should be less apathetic and do something about society. I would like to think that Miss. Wee was not being apathetic about society because she is achieving so much more with her actions than her words. She is doing superbly well in school and will one day contribute to society through her merit and virtue as a tax paying citizen of Singapore. She has but stated her views as a youth, that Singaporeans should not blame the government for every little thing, that they should not at once demand that the government help them and then demand that the government leave them alone. She was however, branded an elitist, the horrid end result of Singapore's meritocratic education system, a horrible snob far removed from Singaporean society. If you have read her blog in its entirety, you will know that Miss. Wee has seen the despair of poverty in India. She has great dreams to do more than walk the Singaporean path of excellence which she could undoubtedly do very well. I would think that if it had been some poor man from Ang Mo Kio who works two different jobs a day to feed his family of four, one of which in NUS now on scholarship while the other one still a teenager who needs tuition to catch up with work in school because he has to help out at home (mother died) and then still another child in primary school, then Miss. Wee would not have been so callous, so unpitying in her remarks. You call her a snob but pause and think. She directed her comments not at the poorest of society, not at the silent downtrodden people at the end of the social hierarchy, but one at the middle of it who cannot move beyond the average and who resents the possibility that even that might be taken from him and for that, I think she was in the right. Do not complain about your future when those at the very bottom struggle in silence because that is precisely what your brilliant counterparts in other countries did while you mused over the prices of condominiums and wondered when to buy a car so as to evade the COE hike.

Miss. Wee may have been a minority among youth today but she works her arse off and she is good at it. I cannot say the same for the rest of the youth population who cannot grasp the fact that we are a meritocratic society and it is ability that matters. Please do not even try to make this a debate about the different streams and institutions. You can do your best and be in ITE or JC or Poly and if it is the best of your ability, then you have been rewarded so let us not try to obscure the current issue. The people who boo her and who shout her down would like her voice to be silenced, well Mr. Wang, where are you now to defend a voice of youth? Will you now shut her up having encouraged youth to speak out on society today? Or did all of you expect us to parrot your cries for freedom and equality?

Next issue then shall we? Let us talk about the future of youth today. Were Mr. Wee in his twenties, his complaints would be completely moot. You do well at your studies, you get to come to Raffles, you get your scholarship, the government identifies you as talent, the gateway to the Ivy League empowers you, MNCs choose you, what have to moan about the uncertainties of the future. On the other hand, you choose to skip school, to stay outside loitering shopping malls, to not put in your best, to sleep in class, to be irresponsible for your future, then I am glad you did what you did because Singapore cannot survive on Ivy Leaguers, who will sweep our floors and uphold our reputation as a Garden City? This is just a little something reserved for young people who would like to grouse about the uncertainties of their future. It's your own fault, deal with it.

This is a really long post so I shall sort of end it off with a little rant about our darling newspaper. I no longer read the Straits Times for a number of reasons. The fact that it does not even have the decency to be a competent propagandic mouthpiece is one. Its complete ineptitude at being the, get this, Fourth Estate, another. The cowardice by which it must occasionally aim a covert hit at the government it does not dare to stand up to just so it may earn some brownie points with Freedom House the final straw. Oh wait, did I mention the annoying tone journalists take as well as the more than occasional English error that has given to the world the horrible spawn called Singapore Standard English that is the fount of all my little insecurities? If I want to check whether have I used a certain word correctly, I have to go to the Economist or the IHT because the Straits Times can do no better. I never allow my sister to read the Straits Times because I am afraid she will mistake it for a source of good English and henceforth write like it.

Yes, I am digressing and ranting. Go on, sue me.

You know what else I hate about the entire affair? A bunch of people commiserate in their misery, a young girl dares to contradict what they have said by herself, dares to tell them it's nonsense and she gets fired at. We are not even talking about logical reprisal here, we are talking about unreasoning moralist screeches. The fact that her father is also the MP for Ang Mo Kio seems to mean that she too must be as publicly responsible as her father, that somehow, her father being an MP has something to do with all this. It smacks of political expediency which is disgusting even if it is a fair move were it to have been ochestrated by the opposition. Well, my parents are not MPs, my family isn't even as well off as hers, but I will say what I say and I have the right to it. I have seen what our system can do for those who are truly willing to transcend their own circumstances and it does not seem possible for anyone of talent and aptitude to wallow in mediocrity unless they chose to. So there.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll is back.

This will be long and possibly annoying so bear with it. It's not my fault you suckers chose to stay at home to study instead of facing the possibility of a glorious failure.

Day 1

Walked around Montmartre which was really cool. I know I know, it's touristy but there is a certain freedom in walking without a tour group that is liberating. We had to get by on my appalling French although we did manage to survive. The weather was suitably pleasant and I could have laughed at the thought of the haze back home. Anyway, we walked alot. Paris has some fine houses and the Sacre Coeur was beautiful. It's really amazing that Christians saw such a great need to build a monument to GOD that at once cut them off from the rest of the world, as if only humans were deserving of GOD. Oh and I bought a nice black candle with a carved wax candlebra from this beautiful little boutique.

Grocery shopping in Paris is also a joy, partly because they have so many cool things our dismal NTUC does not. For crying out loud, they have rabbit microwavable dinners! How amazing is that? Oh and I must say, Paris has the best bakeries. How sad, that we must subsist on plastic sandwich bread instead of fresh, hot brioche crammed with butter, raisins and sugar. The milk does not compare however to Hokkaido though.

Day 2

I found Parsons! I found Parsons! It will cost my parents $300000 but I am so in love with Parsons. Although I think I'll still look into Parsons New York and Central St. Martins. It's a tiny building but the atmosphere is so cool. I am so looking forward to living in Paris.

Shopping day! Walked around Champs Elysees and Place de la Concorde which interestingly took the entire day. We had lunch at this wonderful place which had a most delicious onion tart and then also a wonderful cheese omelette. The French have their own brand of fastfood called Quick which tastes much better than McDo although you still wouldn't want to eat too much fastfood when the place is just teeming with good places to eat! I really loved the gardens and the view from atop the Arc de Triomphe which was wonderful what with all the avenues radiating from its central point. Baron de Haussman was a genius and Napoleon a greater genius still for choosing him to overhaul Paris.

We found the Cafe George V where we last had dinner in 2003. The waiter, Charles, who served us then was still there! How cute. Anyway, it's just next to the Louis Vuitton flagship store and I must say, I was quite angry at the Chinese around that area. There is apparently some swindling scheme consisting of a network of Chinese and I thought it was terrible. Something worse happened in the metro later on but nevermind about that.

Day 3

In 2003, I was deprived of the chance to see Versailles because my sister wanted to go to Disneyland Paris (pfft). Today, I finally got the chance and it was perfect. OK, notwithstanding the people who stepped on Mummy's toes (she was wearing open-toed shoes in autumn) and drove her nearly mad. I love the palace and I kept trying to imagine how it would be like to enter the palace then as a courtier when the Sun King still reigned AND ruled. The apartements were sumptuous as were the gardens. Oh my god, the gardens. They go on for miles and miles and autumn gives the gardens a wonderful blush for the leaves of the chestnuts have all turned a beautiful brown. Wonderfully happy even if we did end the day eating Chinese takeout which was gross.

Day 4

Another shopping day! All the major departmental stores, Gallerie Lafayette and Printemps were covered. Mummy went on a buying spree sweeping hair care products which would have caused like twice the amount back at home. After that, we walked to the Madeleine and then from there, to the Rue Faubourg St. Honore and Avenue Montaigne where the designer stores quite nearly drove me mad. I swear I'm going to have a store along that hallowed road one day. Anyway, Mummy returned to the Louis Vuitton flagship store to get herself a Speedy which is totally her since she can now use it as a gym/work bag. A bargain!

Thereafter, we went to look at the Eiffel Tower because despite the touristy-ness of the place, no trip to Paris is complete without a visit to this monument Parisiens once thought ugly and cried to have it torn down. There is a restaurant there called Jules Verne where a four person dinner costs a thousand sing dollars. Needless to say, we didn't go for it since none of us were dressed for it though I'd really have liked to have been able to eat there. Ah well.

Day 5

DEE!! Guess what? I went to the Musee de la Mode and saw the Balenciaga's exposition! It was great, like, seriously. That man is a genius and Nicholas Ghesquire has a strange way of bowing at the end of his show, quite unlike the suave confidence of Mr. Ford. Oh oh, and the other floors were great too because there were all this fantastic furniture and chinaware. Spent an entire day there.

And yes, had lunch at Angelina. Hello, only Paris' most famous place to have chocolat chaud along the Rue Rivoli where they seriously melt a bar into a cup and you drink it with a mouthful of whipped cream. Ate the foie gras de canard with figs and sweet brioche and was floored. Oh and afterwards for dinner, we went to this cool place which served mussles by the pots! I really love Paris now.

I must say here that henceforth, I will always defend the French especially Parisiens because they are the most beautiful people! Such courtesy and warmth! I know, not the fabled rude Parisian but it's true. I love Parisians. They are such lovable people, so unlike Londoners.

Day 6

Wasted on travelling to London.

Day 7

Hopped around London on a bus. The weather was friggin cold and the wind, oh my god, the wind. Now we all know I love the cold but this was absurd. Anyway, all the usual sights and then it was a trip down to Harrods. I love Harrods. It reeks, yes, reeks of old charm. A veritable temple dedicated to elite consumerism. Nevermind the horrible Londoners who came as a shock after the surprising niceness of Parisiens. Tea at Richoux which was quite good and we ended the day going on the London Eye. I can't really remember what we ate for dinner which must mean it doesn't merit mention. This is after all, British food we are talking about. They have hard rolls and sandwich bread! Ew.

Day 8

Took the bus to Kensington Palace which is impressive, but not as awe-inspiring as Versailles. See, the thing is I am biased. I love the French. I love Paris. Everything in London became dimmed after my heady trip in Paris. So bear with me Sarah darling. What I will grant is that they do good teas. We had tea at the Orangery and it was very good! The service was good too but then, the waitress was French. You see why I am now convinced of how polite and helpful the French are? Just speak their language dear, and they'll love you.

Went to Covent Garden afterwards to do more shopping. Nothing much to talk about, Covent Garden is cheerful and well, Covent Garden. On our last night in London, food proved to be so terrible that we ended up eating at a Chinese restaurant which was surprisingly good.

And here I am! Back. Then I hear about poor Shu Min whom I don't know personally but whom I unequivocally support.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

My sister was bored so I told her to write a poem with an iambic pentameter and simple rhyming scheme. Very patriotic of her:

A learning community where pioneers are born

Bringing glory and pride to our home

Helping our nation create a better dawn

Accomplishments known across the sea and foam

As we overcome all obstacles with vigour

We continue to be the Asian Tiger

Isn't that cute? I have no idea if she's talking about Raffles or Singapore though, or if the two aren't the same for her.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll thinks.

It took me an entire half an hour staring out of the window while on the mrt and I am not really sure why this should matter so much to me but it does. The lie of spatial dimension might have had something to do with this. I find it interesting, that the reality which we perceive should rest between the infinity of the inconceivably vast and the infinity of the unfathomable microscopic. The one renders us incapable of considering the universe as a rational whole, the other obscures the spark of life from our sight. We then live in a haze, sort of like having myopia and that other sight problem- long sightedness was it?- so that all we can see is the dim area about us. Our perception of reality is so limited when you think about it.

I am also eating a peanut butter sandwich now and convincing myself not to go jogging because the haze would kill me in a matter of minutes.

Oh and I finally figured out why the stupid NEL doesn't connect Boon Keng to Braddell even though they're like in the same area. The rationale of the NEL is to link the backwaters to the city core, not to other backwaters. For that, you have the buses which if you live in a backwater, are presumably the prime mode of transport.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll sits still.

Lunch at Caffe Beviamo with CC and Ying today to celebrate Ying's birthday. Spent the day walking around quite aimlessly catching up before ending the day at TCC where I continue my secret discourse with affagato.

I love the way the bitterness of the espresso fuses with the sweetness of ice cream. The one is hot, the other is cold. The one is smooth, the other is slightly grainy. But they fuse into one in the end, showing how a thin line separates one from the other.

In a fit of angst and misplaced defiance, I bound my neck with a tie except I refused to wear it the proper way, hidden under a collar and tidied up. I think I looked slightly scary like that, especially because I was staring at the people who were staring at me. I've been hanging out with people of a certain character for too long I think.

The point is, at the end of the day, I looked alot more like a suicidal salaryman. Sort of like Death of a Japanese Salesman, Except in Singapore. This does not deter me however from experimenting with ties. Henceforth, the tie shall be my best friend.

But first, I need to get a plain, narrow, black silk tie. I was thinking of getting one that looks as if its end were chopped off so that instead of a tongue, there is but the neat planes of a rectangle. I also want this shirt from Raoul which is severe white with a discrete white-on-white paisley theme that is hardly there.

It occurs to me that if I am going to play with ties, I am going to need a tie clip.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll eats up.

The only woman I want to marry and start a family with is Nigella Lawson, or one of her reincarnates, daughters or a woman like her. She is a Woman. A Woman. Flesh, no preoccupation with thinness. Fecund, animated Nature.

God I love to see her eat.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll unveils.

Unhappy people are so confusing.

Let me into your grief dammit, is it too much to ask?

C'est tout.

Blank Doll speaks.

Waking up early to a good HIC and then a slice of nutella on whole meal and a glass of soy milk is a wonderful experience. It makes you feel so awfully healthy and virtuous. To suckle from the tit of a blissful, haze-free dawn- of such things is bliss made.

My past is coming back all at the same time. Past friends, past love, past fears. Suddenly, my ambition and dream look so daunting and so far away. Yet I must brace myself for what is to come, I have been waiting so long for it that I can scarce wait longer. I am now in a comfort zone I must escape from, which means sooner or later, I'm going to end up quarreling with all my friends and then hurting someone else.

Reading keeps me sane when I am so enervated, stymied by the sudden rush of things. I am consoled that while I may not exactly have my face stuck to my notes, I am at least reading something of interest and of value that Cambridge will not recognize but will nevetheless be useful in the future. Currently reading a book on Singapore English which has made me very self-conscious of my pronunciation and use of a language I once thought myself such an adept at. Well, apparently, I'm not that good with the English language. True, I can write and I think I write quite nicely too. I can speak the language and need never pause to grasp for a word too. Nonetheless, it behooves me that I cannot as yet dredge up any semblance of an accent. I know it's uncool to want an accent but really, I have a shameful desire to learn Received Pronunciation or at least be able to affect a French lilt- none of which I can do. Writing, ah the bitterness, is something others in my school may do far better than I can. My prose has no poetry to it, and my poetry, no symmetry, no meter, no rhythm, no meaning to it.

My, what an act of humility. This is not to say however that I speak like the average Singaporean grasping for words they learnt from reading the Straits Times, molesting the language with their ineptitude although in recent weeks, I have acquired the tendency to speak like that.

By the way, fuck you.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll sniffs.

Sometimes the past comes back to find you and it makes you extremely happy.

Anyway, tsk tsk Marc dear, whatever were you thinking for the latest LV collection? Seriously, plastic totes like those Brave Orchid used in Woman Warrior are so whack.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll speaks.

Was strangely pleased when I came across the statement "One of the most successful schools at getting students into American Ivy League universities is Raffles Junior College in Singapore" in the Economist.

Look, you have to be quite thick not to sense the little ribbing the dear Economist was clearly enjoying when it mentioned Raffles Junior College and Singapore. Is Raffles Junior College, and by extension Singapore, merely successful at getting students into these schools or is it successful at producing talent? Interesting question which nonetheless shall get no answer from me since I cannot be objective.

I am very pleased with the latest issue of the Economist since it has confirmed a little intuitive reasoning of mine that democracy and meritocracy are rather contrary ideas. Suffice to say, I cannot imagine any country that would cling to an egalitarian tradition if this means sacrificing its best talents to the tyranny of the mediocre.

I do have a problem with the concept of equality of opportunity though. It serves as a useful justification for the current socio-economic disparities in certain countries (this brings to mind the Econs S session where one of the teachers were particularly smug about Singapore's first world income and third world inequality because if we are to believe in the extrapolation of current trends, rising income disparity even in the presence of a relatively free labour market could come to be the rule rather than the exception) since the rich may still keep their wealth and the poor harbour their hopes. But, how does it work? Equality of opportunity, in my opinion, may seem like a very attractive solution but it would appear eminently difficult to put into practice without at least some form of positive discrimination. Scholarships and grants? Unless you restrict them specifically to the lower income groups, how does one ensure that they do not go to the children of higher income households with the ability to employ tutors to provide their offspring with the advantages witheld from children of less advantageous families?

Do not misunderstand me, I harbour no burning need for social justice. I believe in an unequal world, perhaps sometimes even an unfair world. The strong should have privileges granted to them that the weak cannot have- accidental strength, and it is merely weakness on the part of the strong not to use them. Yet it would seem to me that part of the contract between the state and society is to strive to allow for equality of opportunity without resorting to social redistribution. It is rather like believeing in a class society with substantial inequality but with the caveat that social mobility be a given.

On to the issue of importing human capital into Singapore and the odd article from the Straits Times, courtesy of the Econs S listing, that has as usual, confirmed my beliefs that no child should be let near that broadsheet. I could even have been more forgiving towards it if it had been a mouthpiece for the PAP (it is my opinion that propaganda is very important and that citizens should be able to identify propaganda, reason it and then accept it. Mindless rejection is as bad as mindless subservience.) but I refuse to believe such absurd opinions could have come from any member of that august body of sensible leaders.

We are a plural society. It could have been a structural weakness- just look at Paris and the banlieus, but we have made it a sort of strength if not just a cultural feature of Singapore's social landscape. True, we are not all equal heirs to the wealth of our nation, but then that was never writ in the social contract. We are a plural society because of immigration. None of our families can be traced beyond three generations without stepping off Singaporean soil, five if you happen to be a Straits Chinese and maybe a couple more if you happen to be a Malay.

We were a plural society before we were a nation. Singapore's early wealth was founded on this fact, that she be the heart at the crossroads of the world, the humble custodian of the Malaccan Straits and a beacon of light within the British Empire. A nation state, that most recent artifact of Man's conception, cannot possibly compare with that.

An aside, the Straits Times journalist also irked me with his loose use of the word nationalist to describe himself. What he really wanted to use was xenophobic bigot since he suggested that he'd rather go to a food centre with locally hired employees washing his toilet than say, one who hired a Sumatran.

If Singapore is to be the hub of South East Asia, if she were to be a beacon of light in the modern world economy, then how can she not have a globalised market for human capital? Our Miracle, that phenomenon that lifted us from Third World to First within the span of 40 years, would have been impossible without the contribution of people who could not possibly have identified themselves as Singaporeans in the way that we may today.

This is the root of it, nationhood is an identity. It is a concept. Freedom of labour another. Inherent in the concept of nationhood is not only the unspoken contract that the state defends society but also the agreement that society must return to the state by strengthening it. It is understandable for people to fear for their jobs, but irrelevant to even consider restricting Singapore's labour market in such a way that might take her off course in the scramble for talent.

Singapore is very successful at churning out world class talent. She would not, of course, be very successful however if say, the American Ivy League universities decided to be 'nationalistic' about things and reserve all their places for their American compatriots.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

I am awake now wanting to jog but the air quality is so bad I have to stay at home. Why on earth must we be situated next to a developing economy whose key sectors happen to include timber and agriculture? Haze is annoying, inconvenient and any moment now, I shall fall ill. Cloud seeding time!

Yesterday was pretty boring until Xuan called. Haha, it was all a little impromptu I think when I suggested we go down to Sun with Moon to have tea there since she's never been there before. I was reserving seats on the phone while in the cab, amazing.

Anyway, Xuan still looks as great as ever, her hair's grown out (finally) so we all have something to celebrate. We ordered, erm, a sweet box and three plates of desserts I think. The pumpkin roll, the tofu cheesecake, the monaka and the sweetbox. It was great talking because Xuan's family will be going off to Switzerland and Italy after the As. Switzerland will prove boring of course but for those of you who have been to some of the erstwhile city-states of Italy, you'd know how interesting that can be.

Oh, and we ordered a soft shell crab and avocado roll because Sean's a pig (as usual).

Took out customary trip to Kino and I've finally figured out why Xuan always buys books. My goodness, you silly girl. But just as well because we spent lots of time while Xuan explained manga to me then I explained Terry Pratchett to her. Haha, oh and Japanese cookbooks are like, wow. We were looking through the bento set cookbooks and wishing we were children in Japan.

She, being the filial one, reminded me, the FORGETFUL one, that it was MAF (Mid-Autumn Festival...wait a minute, why wasn't she in school celebrating it then? Weird.) and good little boys and girls go back home for it. We took the bus, stared at the moon without our glasses and wondered why it was so yellow and small.

Well, the moon grew brighter by the time we reached Sembawang though it was still small and the haze was still something nasty. So there.

Damn the haze! Thank goodness I'm going off soon, it's so annoying!

C'est tout.

Blank Doll.

The world does not turn on the heartstrings of individuals, but it is writ in our hearts- that secret commandment to love and to want to be loved.

Who defines the line that divides pleasure from pain? Who tells us that the gray area between them cannot be walked? Who spun the lie that love is not another form of power? That one always submits while the other conquers? Who told the tale of eternal love? The happily ever afters?

Till death do us part. There is an Indian folktale about a clever princess and her prince, they are reunited in the end save that it does not end with a happily ever after. It ends instead with "and they lived as happily as they could until death, that great parter of loves, cleaved them into twain."

Rapture takes place through pain and pleasure, through the mingling of the two until the bone and the soul become one, until one cannot tell by the keen inner eye of the spirit where the carnal ends and the divine begins.

Dare we give this pleasure up? Dare we forget that epics, poems and lives are woven from the same discordant thread of love?

The world turns regardless of what we do but it is love which we clutch to, desperate, in our need to reaffirm our existence. We live in the flicker, what an apt line from Conrad, we are the flicker and each embrace is but the fatal gesture of defiance that stems from the heart.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll..

Grades revised. Turns out my GP's A2 was actually an A1. This is starting to get scary because then I just know my A levels will be an AAB and everyone else will get straight As and it will all be my fault for flying off to Paris before the exams.

Almost makes me want to take out my books again. But that can wait.

Lunch at Caffe Beviamo a couple of hours ago instead of going to school so my family could confirm our flying plans. That place serves a nice salad and sandwich with enough greens to make me feel wholesome for a day. Wholesome is not something I usually feel, certainly not something I'm going to be feeling a lot when I finally get my arse in Paris after my two year NS thingum.

Came across an English translation of a Japanese haiku that just took my breath away. It was about spring and the song of birds echoing across the mountains. Imagine standing still high above a mountain on a pavilion with the chill air fresh in your face, the 'blue canvas of heaven'(my sister actually described the sky as such in her PSLE English composition today, like, wow) suffused with the soft glow of the morning sun. You know what would be the perfect drink? A glass of cold spring water.

Anyway, yes, so the Spring 2007 collections at all the Grandes Maisons de la Mode Parisienne are out. Go take a look at them at style.com and then take a look at the Sartorialist's blog for Style where there's a picture of La Wintour looking all innocent and harmless instead of the fashion devouring, anti-chic commercial, taste destroyer devil-woman that she is.

Because of the above comment, this blog will be shut down the moment I enter Parsons in two years' time in the event that she doesn't die in a car crash or something before I graduate.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

Why on earth do people take cynicism as a sign of intellectual strength? I understand perfectly that our government is not perfect when it comes to policy making- one only has to look at the sorry state of insurance regulation, but really, I fail to see how some presupposition of intellectual credibility necessitates such a lack of patriotism or any affection for the nation that would seem to suggest some form of prejudice.

Are you so ashamed of your country, especially when she is after all, one of THE Asian Tigers?

Reading some of the posts on the Econs S listing by at least one of the seniors nauseates me.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

Customer service at Amex Platinum can be annoying, especially when you don't speak good English. Which was why mummy was very annoyed and asked me to call them up. Absurd I tell you. Anyway, the lesson that people ought to learn is that good English gets you things. Nice little girls who went to nice schools that equipped them with the Singapore equivalent of a posh accent can be polite and nice and detest the scenes that people create when they are affronted by bad service but really, there is no way around it. If you're going to be offended, then do it till the end.

Ah well, rant enough.

OK, I am quite happy with my results but now I am deathly fearful for my A levels because this feels so much like a repetition of my O levels.

GP: A2(br)
Literature: A(br)
History: A(br)
Economics: A(br)

Ah well, I shall need a week of cooling off before I start working again or I'll peak before the exams and die. This exam was harrowing, largely because my As were by the skin of my teeth, to use a favourite expression of Mrs. Chia, and I'm not too sure if I deserved them even though I did study for them. We all know of course, what Sean defines by study though I am very proud of myself for actually doing all those neat essays for practice though since most of them were SEA history essays, they didn't really pay off considering that the paper that saved my life was Int history.

Life can be strange at times.

See?! I didn't gloat one bit! Whoever told you I was going to gloat? You really take too dim a view of me sometimes.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll goes Notcha Wooch.

The wound has healed, I think. It took a lot of time and even though I wasn't the one who was hurt, I'm glad I was given the opportunity to tend to it. I'm so much happier for it too :D

Today was spent quite nicely with me lazing around the house after an early morning jog. Pa, mei and I made bananananana (don't you love how the nas never quite end?) pancakes with Ben and Jerry's strawberry cheesecake ice cream for breakfast which was quite brilliant. Went off to Daddy's salon afterwards to watch my sister do her nails, a mindboggling task to be sure so I also had my lunch there. Near evening, I managed to find my beloved ginseng mooncake at the Shangri-la store at Parco only to discover that the elusive dry aftertaste of unsweetened mooncake perfumed with the scent of ginseng came actually from those at the Raffles Hotel. I did make up for the disappointment by buying the bird's nest one though now I can't quite get myself to eat them at the thought of the calorie content.

I even got my glasses fixed!

You made me unhappy though. What was I thinking, I don't know. Suffice to say, ce ne passera jamais encore. Au revoir, petain enculant.

C'est tout.