Archive for November, 2005


how to tell I am a gay man, part I

November 25, 2005

Yes. I am afraid that it’s true. I am a gay man. I’m as gay as Liberace. I’m as gay as tuile. I’m as gay as YMCA. And how do I know that I’m gay?

1. I think that Madonna is the most beautiful and talented woman, ever.
2. I am devoted to Mariah Carey.
3. I pretend that I’m as fabulous as Gwen Stefani. In Hollaback Girl.
4. I know every single thing about every single season of America’s Next Top Model.
5. I know everything there is to know about Natalia Vodianova.
6. I think that Kate Moss is hot. Because she has no boobs.
7. I used to do ballet.
8. I love to dance. Dirty.
9. My favourite contestant in Project Runway was Austin.
10. I have a videographic memory of lines from Will and Grace.

Of course, I like men too. But that’s not the point.



November 23, 2005

Just about this time every year I start feeling all christmassy. The carols start replaying themselves in my mind, and suddenly the stars seem to shine brighter as they did (supposedly) over Bethlehem about two millenia ago. Hard to believe that this time last year, I was too busy to notice how the season crept up on everyone, as it usually does, in muzak in elevators, over piped music in departmental stores, over everything acquiring a gleam of electronic lights. It’s almost hard to believe that it’s almost been a year since the last Christmas, and two years before the last last Christmas, and three years before the last last last Christmas…

I think I’m getting old. I find it hard to remember the details and the minutiae of daily life, as I could just three or four years ago. My memory seems to be failing me, and sometimes my mind clutches just to recall a single fact. Madonna is 47 this year, and I may even have to see her die.

If I could change one thing over, I would not have studied so hard (if that’s even possible). Everything seems so frivolous now, and I’m consumed with ennui and a latent rage against the fact that two years of my life are being wasted. But then I think about it and realise that it’s only one Christmas, and that’s all it is. Isn’t it?

Funny how life lands you in places you least expect. This time last year, I thought I was on my way to Yale on financial aid. This year I’m going to Stanford on scholarship. Who knows what may happen next year?

Amazing. This time next year I’ll have my freedom back.


pro patria mori

November 11, 2005

Reading Singaporean blogs recently I feel strangely relieved that not everyone in Singapore is mindless and blind. So many issues: homosexuality, death penalty, drugs, casinoes.

But the strange thing is: why do Singaporeans actually care? 20 years I’ve lived here, and experience has taught me that if you care too much for Singapore it will break your heart and destroy you. Look at Chee Soon Juan: I don’t necessarily think that he’s the most emotionally sensitive or politically astute of people, but I do not think that he is a villain out to destroy the great, common good that is the PAP, less still do I think that he deserves his fate as a social and political pariah. Look at Kuo Pao Kun: he loved Singapore so much, and was still thrown into jail for being a commie. Look at Alex Au, who fights so hard to be Singaporean and gay and to actually have rights, and how he has been stifled of a voice and a say. Look anywhere. This place is not one of happy, vibrant people who will grow up to be individually fulfilled and like what they do. This place is full of people who will grow up to be pawns in an economic chess-game, where the rich get richer and the powerful get, well, more powerful.

So this is my message again: forget about Singapore. If you’re intelligent enough to realise that this place as it is now is not by any measure a bed of roses (unless of course it’s a bed of manure without the roses) then you’re probably intelligent enough not to bother living here.