Friday, November 26, 2004
Here Chuckie...
They play elevator music over the PA system in hospital.
Of late it's been music-box covers of Elton John and other popular tunes.
It's probably just me, but music-box tunes freak me out. For some reason I get these mental images of killer clowns and grinning dolls wielding nasty daggers...
I wish they'd stop playing the same tunes over, and over, and over again...
*****
The Thing about...
...racism in Singapore isn't so much that it exists, or even that individual bigoted freaks really do prowl our ostensibly multicultural, orchid-scented, au naturel (with some degree of official planning) soils, but that it is a more subtle, covert form of racist-trap that even the nicest people occasionally fall into; that even people who are pretty moderate sometimes open their mouths and blurt out a discriminatory statement without even realising they've just potentially hurt someone; it's the fact that we've been conditioned to think a certain way, and it becomes a given for us. Things are like this because they have always been like this; it is only natural. It is so natural it must be necessary. The other thing that bugs me as well, of course, is stereotyping to the degree that it becomes almost damning.
I know where I stand with overt racists who spew nazi-esque filth - they're pretty much beneath contempt, and not really worth anyones while engaging in debate.
It's when nice people say things which make you pause and open your eyes again and wonder about an institutionalised system of "natural indoctrination" that gets to me. You can't fight your friends. You can't fight the system. All you can do is close your eyes for a while, and breathe deeply. Then smile and pretend that you think the same, and yes, it is only natural that foreign PRs get different coloured ICs, and that rich PRs get different coded IC numbers to poor PRs.
*****
Babe Alert
Whilst patrolling the hospital with my team yesterday an absolutely heart-stoppingly gorgeous babe stepped out of a side corridor and vanished into the depths of somewhere else in the hospital.
I'd forgotten about the whole thing within five minutes. In fact, I almost forgot to even write about it here.
Guess it just goes to show that on-calls interfere with normal physiology.
Heh heh heh.
Of late it's been music-box covers of Elton John and other popular tunes.
It's probably just me, but music-box tunes freak me out. For some reason I get these mental images of killer clowns and grinning dolls wielding nasty daggers...
I wish they'd stop playing the same tunes over, and over, and over again...
*****
The Thing about...
...racism in Singapore isn't so much that it exists, or even that individual bigoted freaks really do prowl our ostensibly multicultural, orchid-scented, au naturel (with some degree of official planning) soils, but that it is a more subtle, covert form of racist-trap that even the nicest people occasionally fall into; that even people who are pretty moderate sometimes open their mouths and blurt out a discriminatory statement without even realising they've just potentially hurt someone; it's the fact that we've been conditioned to think a certain way, and it becomes a given for us. Things are like this because they have always been like this; it is only natural. It is so natural it must be necessary. The other thing that bugs me as well, of course, is stereotyping to the degree that it becomes almost damning.
I know where I stand with overt racists who spew nazi-esque filth - they're pretty much beneath contempt, and not really worth anyones while engaging in debate.
It's when nice people say things which make you pause and open your eyes again and wonder about an institutionalised system of "natural indoctrination" that gets to me. You can't fight your friends. You can't fight the system. All you can do is close your eyes for a while, and breathe deeply. Then smile and pretend that you think the same, and yes, it is only natural that foreign PRs get different coloured ICs, and that rich PRs get different coded IC numbers to poor PRs.
*****
Babe Alert
Whilst patrolling the hospital with my team yesterday an absolutely heart-stoppingly gorgeous babe stepped out of a side corridor and vanished into the depths of somewhere else in the hospital.
I'd forgotten about the whole thing within five minutes. In fact, I almost forgot to even write about it here.
Guess it just goes to show that on-calls interfere with normal physiology.
Heh heh heh.
