The Paris Attacks And After

I wrote this in parts over the weeks since 13 November. At home, on the train, at work, on my phone and on my work computer. It sort of makes sense and doesn't. Disjointed, like the news that shaped my thoughts. Before I scrap it, I think I should put it out there. They are still words from inside. Then start again. 

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Who is the terrorist?

You are. You who is lucky not to know any violence because everything bad that happens is so far away that your ability to emphatize is limited to not being able to find a seat in a cafe or not being able to find a parking lot when many others have to deal with threats, fear, bombs, guns and knives on a daily basis.

You are. You with your bias that who we choose to help should look like you, a view that strikes fear among those who look different, pray different, dress different and eat different. A bias that feeds the fear and sparks the hate.

You are. You with your shock for what happened in Paris and ignorance of and apathy towards the 19 who were killed in Baghdad and the 43 who were killed in Beirut the day before, the 50 injured in Dhaka, 22 killed in Pakistan and 27 killed in Nigeria the month earlier. 

You are. You who keeps your head down and eyes glued to your phone, ignoring the world around you because all that matters is a Facebook tag or an Instagram like, ignoring those who need some help, dismissing the voices and opinions of those who care to make a difference, just cruising along life.  

I'm sorry. I am guilty too. 

Apathy, ignorance, intolerance and indifference - these traits will slowly us turn into the ones that feed the hunger in the terrorists we see on TV, the ones with the Kalashnikovs and suicide vests. They relish the simplicity of knowing you won't fight back or are afraid to interact with those who are not like you or that you wouldn't stand up to defend a stranger. 

Where are our saviours now? I read a couple of weeks ago that members of the Satanic Church were open to give protection to Muslims. Today I read the Sicilian Mafia has warned IS against going too far. The tough guys are now standing up to the enigmatic terror. Funny how tables turn. 

Now that France declared a 'pitiless' campaign to rid their attackers, the question of military might over personal rights needs to be asked. Do we do a Jack Bauer with his all-it-takes antics to get information (and bone marrow) from his captives? What personal freedoms will we surrender for this explicit mass intrusion into our private lives? I'm sure people are asking already, and are worried. 

The onslaught of bombs on Syria began almost a day after the Paris attacks. Russia also started from the other end (amazing how they can fire missiles from ships from over 1,000 miles away, a long awaited display of Russian power with lots of photos, videos and patriotic rhetoric to boot, from their Defence Ministry no less. #chestthump) The ground must be obliterated by now. In the wake of the rapid rebuttal, no one cared to ask about the people on the ground, the ones who couldn't run away. Images are now emerging of the innocent dead. Has Syria and Iraq become everyone's tit-for-tat playground? 

We know the Syrian regime isn't going anywhere anytime soon, now with Russia stepping in as muscular aide confidant. We know the western powers have been aiding different opposing groups in the Middle East to keep their favourites in power or help bring their not-so-compliant dictator down. It's been going on for decades. The difference now is that someone else has decided enough is enough and he wants that power too. The religious spin is just a way to get more people believing in the cause. In the end, it's always about land and resources. (Look at how China is buying up both overseas, to eventually feed and support its own people far away.) it's also about control. The US wants some, the UK wants some, maybe even France wants a piece of the action. Russia clearly has demonstrated its desires with their ongoing wham-bam show. The problem is that these superpowers haven't dictated any terms to make the status quo any better. The Saudis openly behead criminals in the name of Shariah law. No western power has said "Hey you Saudi ruling family, can we tone down on the savagery so that we can work together?" So what's stopping IS from invoking the same law? The Saudis are the keepers of Islam. So monkey see, monkey do? 

I asked my team mates, two Singaporean Chinese guys, at work this question - So what if there was only the IS assholes left in Syria, no one less, would you be ok if some country dropped a nuclear bomb on the place? The father of two said yes almost without hesitation. The other guy, no kids, said no. I'm sure other people are thinking it too - just do a mass clearing of the people, leave the violent Islamist cult there, and blow them to smithereens with a megaflash of blinding light with pretty, white mushroom cloud after. I say no too. It'll open up too many doors that we couldn't come back from. The terrorists will want to get a nuclear device to blow everyone else to Kingdom Come too. We've all seen the movies. This is one version of fiction that needs to stay that way. 

It's making us crazy, and we're likely to make more mistakes before things start to be better. We'll probably be ok with sending in more soldiers and dropping more bombs. And saying stupid things to make everyone just a tad more upset and perhaps unwittingly justifying the terrorists' cause. 

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Post General Election Blues

The GE has been over for about 2 weeks now and all the noise has subsided, replaced by an even bigger national calamity, the haze. 

You may infer from the last statement that I wasn't too happy with the outcome. I felt fooled. Maybe by the people and the promise. 

There was Chee Soon Juan with his born-again persona, the calm speeches that spoke to our hearts, with rationality that appealed to our heads and a simplicity that transcended society, like a wave sweeping and washing us clean. I was among the thousands who went to see him speak at UOB Plaza. He turned it on and turned it on well. 

There was the embattled WP. Desperate to fend off claims of mismanagement and impropriety, they spoke of teething problems and how they had to cope to with change, processes and policies they weren't in charge of. Yet the 50,000 people whom I jostled with in Hougang cheered as though we were at a pop concert. Nothing felt amiss. Nothing felt like the status quo was caving in for those who bled blue. 

And East Coast GRC looked ripe for switching allegiances too. 

I let myself be fooled by the hype and noise, comfortably collapsed into the rally rhetoric and online hullabaloo. 

It was a terrible showing for the WP. Losing Punggol East must have been heartbreaking for Li Lian. She had risen to the challenge against a doctor son of Punggol, in a by-election but apparently it wasn't enough to edge out an old timer with a big smile. It was tthe same in Hougang, where the PAP made the tide turn against the WP rather significantly, what is now a tantaliser for the men in white to go all out to woo over completely the opposition stalwarts in five years' time. And of course the Aljunied contest was a near bloody disaster. So close the numbers were, the PAP must have been reeling and squealing in delight. And it was the last result to be announced. A nail-biting finish no less. A less than a 1 measly percent win for the incumbent must have been demoralising for the team that won over residents with sincerity and resolutions just the term earlier. What will the WP do now? Have they drowned in their tears of shame? 

On a brighter note, we know a third of the people in Bukit Timah don't like the PAP. And 9% of the people in Tanjong Pagar are actually willing to throw a political novice into government. LKY must have been squirming in the afterlife over that mutinous poke in the ribs in his own backyard. 

Yes I was hoping for more opposition representation in Parliament, clearly. And clearly the rest of the population was worried about the bedlam, mayhem and Armageddon that would ensue if we didn't vote in the people who had been running the show for the last half century. 

Those who are able to "own self check own self", those who would build bus interchanges only if voted in, those who started CPF reform only after suing the young man who raised his voice about our retirement concerns at Hong Lim Park.

I guess I'm pissed that nothing's changed. (I still don't have a coffeeshop in my neighbourhood.) We somehow fell victim to the SG50 spirit, LKY's passing, the nostalgia of how far the country has come, how bright our future seems to be. All the emotions associated with transforming a fishing village into a gleaming powerhouse of commerce and industry in two generations. We had put faith in leaders who have taken us this far and we have voted them in again because of the promise that they can take us and our children to SG100 without problems and issues. Are we afraid of what comes next? Why? 

Do we fear untested madmen ruining this country? Do we inherently not give anyone else a chance? Are we this unsure of the unknown? Did the last 50 years of the same government rob us of believing in anything new? This is our lack of creativity spilling into the political arena? So dull are we that we can't imagine new faces as leaders? 

I'm reminded of how some people I've met, albeit older and some SPGs, who believe that the white man is superior. The colonial master came and conquered our lands for a long time and for a long time all we knew was his word and sword. Somehow, although now liberated and democratic, I feel we continue to succumb to trusting those we are used to having in power. From white man to men in white. Let's keep the dynasty going why not? Why rock the boat when all is good yeah? I'm wondering what will happen the cracks begin to appear. How will we find the glue to hold us together? Will the glue be handed down to us instead? What sticky mess will we be asked to handle? 

When Kenneth Jeyaratnam snatched the mic from the live report presenter and said "Singaporeans get the government they deserve" I laughed. Because it's true. We can't handle democracy. We fear change because we have few options. If you have money, you can leave. If you don't, then the fear of a shitty life threatens us constantly. The fact that elderly persons wipe tables and clear cutlery at hawker centers for a living rubs in the salt of fear. We then complain about our government. The very next day after polling in fact a taxi driver expressed his dismay. I didn't ask him whom he voted for. This is the way we are. 

Maybe I have been blind or blinded, foolish or fooled. Regardless, our duties as Singaporeans now is to keep an eye on things, to keep a finger on the pulse, to open our mouths when we are uncertain or afraid, and to march on two firm feet if the time comes. 

Happy National Day Singapore

The tip 

Of a peninsula

A point where fisherman met

To barter and make merry

To raise families

A future from the sea

The tip

Of a storm 

Lightning and thunder

Between pride and empires

In a lion, a prince saw hope

And gave a name 

The tip

Of colonial commerce 

Worth fighting for 

It took white men to see potential

To connect the dots 

And attract the hopeful

The tip

Of power changing hands

On bicycles they came

Towards guns pointed away

To christen a new darkness

As light of the south

The tip 

Of a resolute spear

A yearning to lead ourselves

Grateful for the tired master

But unsure in changing tides

Red menace, hungry neighbours 

The tip

Of a painful birth

An abortion of political relations

From united federation

To a fragile state 

No looking back now

Everyone suddenly together 

The tip

Of a vision

One man, his team, a million people

To clear and clean

To transform and progress

Under a firm hand

With eagle eye and furrowed brow

The tip

Of greatness

Never there but always inching closer

The people driven

Children learning, gears turning 

You can count on me

Because this is my country

The tip

Of destiny

A people proud but not content

In a glittering city they call home

Also home to a fleeting army

Together in a tiny boat 

Of rising expectations

The tip

Of certain uncertainty 

We take careful steps

On shifting ground

Shaping a shared future

Of ups and downs

A red dot set to glow brighter

Saying Yes To KL

I have been spending quite a lot of time in KL recently. I volunteered to do a job there for the local office, replacing temporarily the marketing manager there who left in April. The last few months has been airport rides to Changi at 5pm, passing through security and immigration twice, a train to and from KLIA and KL Sentral, and taxis to a hotel room. After two work days, I'd leave at 4pm then the LRT to KL Sentral and another plane back home. Hectic. I called it 'a long way home' two ways. 

We had a short handover. I mean short like a 4-5 hours. Maybe the expectation was that a "hub" guy would know more than just "hub" stuff. It was a bit of both. The reality of executing locally is very different in practice than the scraps of information, hearsay and emails we "hub" people piece together to make a semblance of what a local role and its responsibilities are like. 

But I went in with eyes open, brain ready, smile flashing and right hand outstretched. And the Malaysia team welcomed me with open arms and a ton of stuff. 

It was eye opening to say the least. The numbers, goodness. Dealing with moving finances, planning spend, pouring over work statements, checking POs, fy16 planning, staring at Excel sheets upon Excel sheets pivoted against other Excel sheets - that's the stuff marketing folks are made of. The meetings with agencies, checking facts and branding, logo placements, even social posts were easy compared to juggling finances. Thank God for a3 printouts. 

The agencies are well agencies. Being from a couple myself, I can understand their position and eagerness to perform. I dealt with three and all have their quirks. I felt somehow all three were being under-utilised with respect to their full potential. They weren't being challenged or tested. So I tried to shake things up a bit where I could. It was fun. 

My colleagues in KL are part of a small team. They are solid people. Hardworking, enthusiastic and driven. It was amazing to see how everyone supported everyone. From the top down and bottom up. Success for one was success for all. They also partied hard. Good lord, they can party. 

The most unexpected part of the exercise was that I liked it. I grew to like it even more than I realised I could. I think it was part new adventure, part power trip and part new people and surroundings. I was also meeting clients and talking about how my company could help their business. It was refreshing. Things were moving. Everything was fluid and unconstrained. The potential to make things happen was, is, palpable. 

I told my 'temp job' manager that if they gave me  my salary in sgd and put back my CPF, I'd have a run for the role. But alas, no KL for me. 

What's sucky about KL is that it's just waiting to be brilliant. The city is alive but held back by bad planning, silly rules and a general malaise about change. Things could be great if people want it to. Those courageous ones seem to want to leave or just work hard to make their own heaven within the madness. 

My run up north is coming to an end soon and I will relish the privilege. It's hard managing two jobs but it helped me grow. It might be the seven years in the same place that's affecting me. Maybe it's something else. Seeing possibilities from saying yes, from something out of the blue, made me understand myself better. It was well worth the sacrifice. 

I managed to catch a few movies in 40 minute segments. Last one was The Age Of Ultron, a long one in 3 flights. 

Hue Ball, A Metaphor For How We've Made A Mess Of Things

Saw a review of Hue Ball, an iPhone game, posted on Twitter. Described as addictive. I downloaded it and started playing. Essentially you start with a cannon swinging left to right and three stationary coloured circles on the screen. Every several seconds these 3 circles will develop layers and the player is supposed to shoot circles/balls from the cannon to prevent these layers from accumulating. Each layer or circle destroyed is a point earned. Targeting a circle is much like playing snooker or pool. You can aim straight or bounce off other circles or balls or the walls. So that's the skill but I guess. Each layer is a colour hence 'Hue 'in the name of the game. Admitted the colours get pretty as they layer up.

Start

Three things to be aware of. One, the layers can't exceed five else the circle becomes a permanent skull face. So the player has to keep the shooting and aiming right. Two, each ball shot out becomes a layer-accumulating circle. So the more you shoot, the more you have to shoot at. Three, when the ball you shot out bounces back towards and touches the cannon line, the life counter decreases. So the more bad ricochets that happen, the quicker the game is over.

I've been playing this game for about two weeks. It is fun but then I got existential about it. The game is a metaphor for humankind! Hear me out - you start off with a cannon that's doing nothing, minding it's own business (that's people).  The 3 circles in the open frame are just out there accumulating layers as time goes by (that's the earth or animals or plants). One is compelled by the need to earn points (that's greed or need to be a busybody) to blast a cannonball out at the three circles. Left on their own these circles would turn into skull faces and the player wouldn't even be affected or suffer any disadvantage. The need to intervene and perhaps gain a perceived advantage compels the player to shoot balls, with or without realising that this action causes an immediate effect on the external environment, and also has a lingering long term effect that needs to be dealt with sooner or later. The more shots fired, the greater likelihood that the open frame is pitted with more circles to contend with, each one growing as time goes by. See where I am getting at? 

The mess after a while

Let's say the open frame represents the environment. The more we mess with it or try to control it, the more problems we create. We chop down trees to make stuff. There's less forest to clean the air and control greenhouse gases. The animals too have nowhere left to hide and enter our cities. We then have to deal with more issues than we started with. 

Let's say the open frame represents Saddam-era Iraq. The problems were there but not the kind that the western powers said there were (as later proved). A coalition of the willing was raised to liberate Iraq from tyranny and mayhem at a huge financial, moral and human cost. And today, we are nowhere close to having a peaceful Iraq. Each intervention caused more bloodshed, more lives lost, more confusion among locals and allies, less trust between the Arab States and the West, more pockets of self-styled militia waiting to get a piece of the action with no simple end in sight. The more cannonballs shot out, the more balls to juggle, manage, deflect and solve for. 

For every action, there is reaction. For every cause, an effect. That's what Hue Ball is about. That's also what life is about. 

We're here to do God knows what. Survive maybe. On a TV commercial for a green movement, there was a line "We need the Earth to survive, the Earth does not need us." It's true. Leaving this alone is sometimes the best thing to do. 

Sort of leaving things alone

Another line from a song comes to mind too - the road to hell is paved with good intentions. A shocking statement to say the least. But think about about all the things that have been done in the name of all that is right, good or holy that have ended in varying degrees of fiasco, mayhem and arsed up. 

It's the history of humankind, in a harmless point and shoot game. 

I Grew Up With Lee Kuan Yew

I grew up with Lee Kuan Yew. My dad always made his priority to be in tune with Singapore politics and the ongoing witty repartee between JB Jeyaratnam and LKY always tickled his fancy. In my home we knew who LKY was and what he had done and what he was doing. My dad always made sure the only channel on at news time was the channel with the news. We saw LKY and his ministers on our black and white TV but ignored them. We were kids so what did we care. My dad would mutter things under his breath and sometimes out loud whenever something important was announced by the newscaster. Perhaps Duncan Watt. My father also enjoyed our tit-for-tat exchanges with Malaysia aka Mahatir. 

This was the 80s, when the Singapore dollar was gaining strength against the Malaysian ringgit. I remember notices on SBS buses reminding passengers not to use Malaysian coins anymore. I was in primary school. Singapore politics was as important to me then as learning to make chappatis. (I still can't make chappatis.) And LKY was Prime Minister and that was all that mattered. I was very proud of my little country. I was fascinated by how the economy had grown, that people moved from kampongs to flats, we had a spanking new airport (My dad brought my sister and I to the opening day of Changi Aiport, 1 July 1981. I remember the falling water columns and the crowd.) and many tall buildings in the city. And double decker buses. And that the MRT was coming. Oh boy trains! We were poor, and the affluence around me was astounding and impressive. To be hankered after. 

I can't really recall much about LKY and Singapore politics in teenage years. I know LKY left his role as PM in 1990 and Goh Chok Tong took over. (There was this disturbing picture of GCT and some ministers in their swimming trunks on the Straits Times front page. Shudder.)

I guess the other key thing that stood out to me from a young age while in LKY's rule was that he sued many people and publications. He always won. 

It was in JC when my mind was opened to the possibility that the politics in my country was special, and not necessarily the best for her people. Gasp! I blame GP, it did its job. When you're open to ideas and exposed to other schools of thought, policy and government, you start to better appreciate, comprehend and question your own status quo. Then came National Service, the true melting pot of all and sundry, from all walks of life, every man from the brave to the depraved. I could not blame LKY for NS because I knew Singapore needed conscripted men to ensure its freedom would not never be at stake. At the same time, I knew people who hated NS and by extension LKY. They felt NS was a waste of time, a quantifiable loss in the prime of their lives, an unworthy taxation on time and talent. I just went on with it, hoping to finish my time unscathed (everyone comes out scarred, in one way or another). 

University was a time for ideas, and more thought about my country and where it was heading. There was localised politics, voting for committee leadership in clubs and halls of residence. It was silly and inconsequential, though I know some ambitious types took it very seriously. I learned then what it meant to have power. I remember hall presidents making bold statements and acting like their lives depended on the permeable hearts and minds of their residents. They planned actions and words carefully so as to achieve a desired outcome, or at least the perception of a successful conclusion. I was impressed. I also came to understand how political office could shape one's character, for better and worse. More importantly, I came to associate power with money, that he who has one without the other is handicapped like a rich prince in waiting - stuck in a tunnel vision of ambition but constantly bugged by those who want to leech along for the ride. He who has both is king. (In Singapore, there are many kings it seems.)

Am I jaded by the political system LKY spawned? Perhaps. Maybe because I see the government's hand in everything. The whole country was the result of something truly planned, completely inorganic. Many are thankful for the peace, stability and affluence that LKY's vision manifested into. I am also. There is no place on the planet like Singapore. The problem perhaps is that the hand in everything has taken away for the need for the people to step up. The reliance on the government to solve our problems has created a creative vacuum, and a debilitating apathy toward proactivity. We merely complain when things go wrong, gripe and moan at the slightest inconvenience. In the era when little went wrong, we hardly questioned the leaders that be, because there was no reason to. Also due to a fear perhaps instilled in us by LKY. We owed him so much - the success of this island, its regional and international standing, our rapid ascent into the First World - that we dared not bite the hand the fed us. That was the generation that grew up in the 60s and 70s, the ones who saw, felt and enjoyed the most change. They were submissive and obliging. They saw how those who even slightly smelled of dissent were dealt with. Zeus was liberal with the lightning bolts from Mount Olympus. There seemed to be just one way, his way. Those who grew up in the 80s and 90s were surrounded by the prosperity the LKY way wrought. These youngsters had less to be thankful for in a way, as recipients of their parents' hard work and perseverance. Lower marginal utility I suppose. Not surprisingly, it is their voice which is now heard loud as it calls for change in the way our government thinks and acts, a generation demanding more, appreciating less - a scenario unfamiliar in the times of LKY's reign. 

Every beginning has an end - a fade into white. Lee Kuan Yew thrust himself into the political scene to make change, way back in 1954, a time of much tension, some turmoil and a little upheaval. He persuaded his followers to support the merger with Malaysia, saying we could not survive as a small island alone, then to take steps to forge nationhood when Malaysia no longer wanted this troublesome little tip of the peninsula. He had a plan and a team of similarly motivated politicians who wanted to see this little red dot glow red hot. Every man, woman and child regardless of colour, language or belief, united in making things better with action, ambition and energy. And it worked. LKY's magnum opus is the ground I walk on. Last week, he passed away at the age of 91. So we begin again? No, we have always been challenging ourselves to be better. The storms and winds may be very different from the weather in 1965 but our foundations today are stronger, built upon the blood and character of many good men and women. What's not new is that we know we can make it, because we know have to. LKY has shown us how. It is the indefatigable Singapore spirit coursing through the veins of a still young nation that will lead us. There will be compromises to make, there must be open-minded consensus to underscore our actions. Every end has a beginning - a spear of red. Majulah Singapura.

Disservice In Singapore

Singapore isn't known for great service. Not many waiters say "hi hello how are you?" when they come around with the menu. Cashiers simply glance at you to ensure there's a living being before them. Sales assistants at shops often simply stay behind the counter or follow customers around the store to annoy them further. There isn't a culture of politeness that extends to acknowledging customers or a system to exchange conversation such that it drives to a sale or at least a pleasant experience. What's worse is that many frontline staff adopt a path of least activity approach to their jobs. They won't make eye contact or smile; they will only help when asked; and won't think of solutions to slightly out of the box problems. It may be something we're used that any positive deviance to this norms strikes us as extraordinary. Like a bus drive who greets his passengers as they board or wait staff that bring water to the table without being asked. 

I was on holiday in Spain last year and almost every shop I went into I would hear the word "Hola" followed by a smile. It was a simple gesture that implied courtesy and presence. One couldn't help but "Hola" back. I wish counter staff at McDonalds here did that at least. 

A few Saturday's ago, I found myself at Kinki, a bar at Customs House near Clifford Pier. I had walked from Gardens By The Way where I had met friends for lunch. The journey had taken me past MBS where many bars and restaurants were already putting out Happy Hour signs to attract new patrons. I suspected Kinki would too have a similar scheme on. It was 5pm and I was customer number one. I waited for them to set up slightly (I was a tad too early) and ordered a drink. I pleasantly enjoyed the solitude and the great view while the staff went about their merry way and the loud rap music blared. I went on to order a second drink. When it was time to go, I signalled for the bill. $30. I asked the waitress if there was a happy hour thing they did. She replied it starts at 6pm.  Six bloody pm. Maybe it was the cheapskate in me or the fact that there was no other customer around, I was miffed. I told the waitress to go tell her manager that I was upset that I wasn't accorded the discount. She smiled sweetly. She must have thought I was joking. When she returned with the receipt, I asked her again. She hesitantly replied the manager wasn't around. She went back to her bevy of service staff and probably expressed my annoyance. One of the bartenders looked up at me and shouted that it was the system and that they couldn't manipulate it. Still not helping. I shouted back that they owed me two drinks. The bartender dismissively flashed a thumbs up. Sigh. I told them I wasn't coming back when I left. All of them just stared back. Clueless, hopeless and just doing their job. 

Last week, a bunch of my friends and I went on a trip. One of the said friends was 29 weeks preggers. Her doctor had said she was ok to travel and confidently she strode up to the Cathay Pacific counter at Changi Airport to check in. The nice CX lady asked a few questions as formality required. Ultimately the airline wasn't going to let my friend board without a doctor's letter. All this aside, what was lovely was that the nice CX lady said that they had printed a copy of the faxed letter for my friend to keep for her return flight, that it'll be waiting for her when she boards. Now wasn't that thoughtful?

Now there's a second nice thing that happened just about then. Another friend noticed just before boarding that her seat number was wrong, placing her 10 rows behind our group. Ay caramba. Her gallant boyfriend said no worries, he would take the odd seat. I thought hmmm, maybe the CX folks here at the gate could do something about this mistake. Guess what? They did! They called up the misplaced passenger who was given 63A and bumped him forwards to row 43 and reassigned my friend within company of her silly friends. Awww. See how nice Cathay Pacific staff are. They go out of the way to attend to needs. 

Excellent service is as simple as that. Meeting needs and sometimes exceeding expectations. 

So it's time service people and their managers (yeah you in Singapore) realise that customers are clued in and demand at least the basics. So they had better buck up or ship out. 

Oh To Be A Bigger Dot

I've been provoking people, mostly my Singaporeans friends, with this hypothetical situation for a while now. 

"Would you agree to giving up all Singapore's reserves to buy over a piece of Johor?" 

The reactions I get are varied. Some people very quickly say no. The very thought of even contemplating that our $300 billion was spent on anything strikes fear, apprehension and downright nervousness. They respond with "Crazy lah you" or "Siao. How can touch that money?" and "Malaysia won't sell you anything. Water already want to fight already."

Others think about a little and venture a few questions to which I quickly spit out answers. I want their gut response as much as possible.

"How about some of the money?" Sure, I say, how about two-thirds. 

"How much land?" Let's say up to Muar then we draw a radius across to the eastern coastline. Sometimes, I suggest a 50km radius from Johor Bahru's city centre. 

"Do we keep the people or just the land!" We keep the people. Or rather we give them an option which side they want to join. 

"Wah what will happen ah?" I usually reply with statements like it'll be like when East Germany reunited with West Germany. It took a decade for them to get back on their feet but the whole nation is better for it. And our dollar's strength will be first to plummet of course, to say 1.5RM to the dollar but that's ok. We'll make up for this soon enough. And finally our NS boys would have something real to do. We'll move the airport further away. 

"Why do you ask this question?" Well, I've always felt we've been held back by our lack of land. We were booted out of Malaysia back in 1965 over political differences and have pulled ourselves in front economically with a high degree of affluence and prosperity. But our homes are expensive and cars are pricey. Our people are growing less happy with more people crowding this tiny space. Our supply of fresh water has always been something to worry about. 

There are bigger things too. Space, the lack of it or having enough of it, does things to people. It alters our mindset and perceptions. Things are easy administratively in Singapore because it's small. Public works, telecoms, infrastructure. Getting into the city is 45 minutes by train from the far ends of the island. When things are easy for people, two things happen - we get lazy and start to take the ease for granted. 

The people most affected by this affliction will be the second and third generations of Singaporeans, most of whom would have grown up with some degree of affluence, had one or more colour televisions at home, took taxis regularly, maybe had a car in the family. They experienced clean streets and working trains, nothing that makes life inconvenient or messy as most other people experience. With no need to think around how to solve day-to-day issues, there's a general apathy towards public service (someone else somehow gets the job done). 

Stretching that a little further (well to some extreme really), maybe our tiny, well-run country limits the need for creative thinking or innovation (last great thing we invented might have been Breadtalk's flossss bun) and little drive towards entrepreneurship (it's just too uncertain, give me an office job please). 

Little space also means less breathing room. There's no countryside to go do nothing in. No forest to frolic about in. No mountains to climb. No rivers to cross. No where to stop, take a long deep breath and smell the roses. Stress just kept inside a tightly wound city, accumulating. 

A friend who's been in the USA spoke about losing his job is too unhappy because he's saved. The rest of us felt he was going to be fine because he had options. Getting a cheaper place to stay was an option. Moving to another city or state was an option. Starting lemonade stand was an option. In a small country, options are more limited. In Singapore you'd get arrested selling lemonade on the street. I think there are cops after the folks selling curry puffs at MRT stations. 

There's a song called Big Country also by the band Big Country. The song came out many many years ago but the opening line in the chorus always stuck with me like a scar. "In a big country, dreams stay with you". I guess in Singapore most dreams are shaped by circumstances and decisions out of one's control. How on earth would I have become the astronaut I wanted to be when I was nine. Yes it sounds depressing but the reality is, in Singapore you make a living, you don't live life. I'm not ungrateful for my upbringing in this safe, clean and efficient city, aware that a few billion others wouldn't mind trading places. Perhaps I just need a road less travelled, literally and figuratively, to tread on. Perhaps I am just worried about how my country is going to grow up, how my friends' kids (yes, their kids because my friends are mostly resigned to their circumstances, and various forms of acceptable, non-threatening addictions to deal with their fates) going to look back and wonder if it was worth it. 

A time machine to go back and give Raffles a few ideas about territorial allegiances. If only. 

How Many People Died In The Last 24 Days?

It's been an awful one month, hasn't it?

December 15 - A madmen with a shotgun barricaded himself in Sydney cafe. The world was on its toes, watching every moment unfold. Australians were stunned. He and 2 brave hostages died as an outcome.

December 16 - Taliban gunmen climbed over a wall into a school for army officers' children in Peshawar, Pakistan. They targeted kids as revenge for an earlier army offensive against them. 162 persons, mostly the school students, were brutally gunned down.

December 19 - In Cairns, a mother stabs 8 children to death. Australia is stunned for the second time in 4 days. 

December 20 - Two New York City policemen were shot to death at point blank range by an armed assailant who had earlier told people to watch what he was going to do. After the execution style murders, the gunman took his own life later. Many feel that the gunman was exacting revenge for the recent deaths of black men who were shot by police or died while in custody. The police men involved in these deaths were white. The two cops shot in their car were Chinese-American and Hispanic.

December 26 – 38 people were killed in Iraq when an ISIS suicide car bomb went off. They were after government fighters. That number capped off the most violent year in the country with 76,000 people killed of which 33,000 were civilians. It doesn’t feel like anything’s going to change in 2015.

December 28 – AirAsia flight QZ8501 went down in stormy weather over the Java Sea. Its 162 passengers and crew were on their way from Surabaya to Singapore. The crash was the third in Malaysia related air tragedies in the past year, following the disappearance of MH370 and the shooting down of MH17 over Ukraine. Today, search teams were trying retrieve the downed plane’s tailfin from the seabed in the hope that the blackboxes stored there are undamaged. This one was close to home. Many could appreciate the sense of loss and anguish borne by the families and friends who were waiting to meet their loved ones from Changi Airport. No matter how rationalists will remind us that more people die from vehicle accidents than plane crashes, it’s the sudden massive loss of life that will overwhelm any iota of logic.

January 1 – 9 deaths are reported in Japan as a result of suffocation from choking on New Year’s Day sweets called mochi.

January 7 –The offices of satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo were stormed by AK47 wielding gunmen who went on to kill 12 staff and policemen. The attack was apparently in response to the cartoons the newspapers published poking fun at Islam, Islamic terrorists and Prophet Mohammed. The western world came to a brief standstill upon hearing about this attack on the press. This was an unusual target but by no means devoid of controversy. In fact Charlie Hebdo thrived on it. The office as firebombed in the past for other work seen insulting to Islam. This brazen rampage however sent a very strong signal that no one could escape the wrath of sensitive Islamists in spite of whichever civil laws in whichever country. All an angry person needed was a gun and courage. The gunmen didn’t care that a policeman was himself a Muslim. He just happened to be on the wrong side of their guns. It doesn’t bode well for Western Europe where conservative politicians have been hankering for tighter refugee and immigration laws. No doubt this gross incident will be fodder for them, and other xenophobic inclined movements. Already the past weekend has seen pro- and anti-immigration marches in Germany. It’ll be easy now to say that if foreigners can’t even respect established cultural norms in a country, then they can go home and feel sorry for themselves. I’m a little afraid of emotions taking over.

So I’ve recalled 397 counts of loss of life in these morbid paragraphs, not including the grim full year Iraqi tally. All in the span of 24 days. I just felt people should know, and remember. These days, with news barrelling at us at light speed, we take things in quickly, absorb/process/reject it, and likely forget it, mostly because our brains can only hold and appreciate so much at a time. When I list things out like this, it’s clear to me that life is fragile and precious; that we who are clothed, have shelter and food, feel safe when we walk down the street, should feel privileged every day for the luck we are surrounded by; and that humanity has a long way to go to fixing ourselves.

Happy New Year.