You Know You Live In Utopia (Or The Orwellian Version Of It) When

You open up the newspaper to catch up on local events and the big headline of the day is, “People litter too much, you really should learn to clean up after yourselves.”

Or something to that effect.

Mind you, this is something that is problematic to Singapore. This is the ONLY country I’ve ever been in where they have to put signs up in the elevators saying, “Please do not urinate in the elevators” because… well, if you don’t tell them explicitly NOT to, they will. Singaporeans have a very strange habit of needing to be told exactly what they can and cannot do, otherwise, anarchy ensues. Then again, I’ve noticed the general sense of order on this island is imposed not by common sense so much as fear of punishment.

An interesting example of this is an argument that has recently broken out in the GameAxis forums where the majority of the posters are picking on someone who took a stand against playing pirated games. They all got angry when he accused them of breaking the law and generally being unethical. As usual, all the normal excuses from “They make billions of dollars anyway, it doesn’t hurt them” to “It’s not like I’m breaking into a house and taking anything, it’s still THERE” where thrown out, but what really piqued my interest was the genuine anger on the part of the supporters of piracy. They resented being told that what they were doing was wrong, and they really resented the idea that they could be considered bad people for doing it. In the end, the biggest argument thrown around was, “Look it’s a reality of life, so you may as well embrace it rather than pretend it’s not happening” and that seems to have settled it.

Needless to say, I found this whole line of thought quite horrifying and after reading that, I suddenly found it very easy to believe the people of Germany would just roll over and let Hitler have his way. That’s EXACTLY the kind of population you want; right or wrong doesn’t matter, simply doing whatever everyone else is.

Free Holiday

I had totally forgotten that Tuesday is the eve of a holiday in Singapore. Tomorrow is National Day, the Singapore equivalent of the 4th of July or Canada day. Unfortunately for most Singaporeans, they only get the one day off and then it’s back to the office on Thursday and Friday, unfortunate for them, but oh well…

Too Curious For My Own Good

I have to admit, after reading on IGN that an award winning porn film about pirates is not only the most expensive porno ever made, but has now also been recut for a rated “R” release, I am insanely curious to actually watch this thing and see what it’s like. Unfortunately the odds of this happening are extremely low since pornography is illegal in Singapore.

No, I am not making that up.

Yes, you can be charged and arrested for owning porn. And again, no, I am NOT making that up.

I Have Seen The Future Of Our Species

And it has bad posture, and laughs like it’s choking on it’s own spit while being squeezed by the scrotum.

I speak of course, of the Nerd, of which I saw many when I went to Nerd-vana, better known as Biopolis for lunch today.

In recent years, one of the things Singapore has done to try and stay relevant is diversify. One of the ways the country has done this is start pushing itself as an Intelligence Based Economy, relying on brain power rather than traditional industry to make its claim in the world market. Part of that initiative has been to have an EXTREMELY friendly policy when it comes to stem cell research, and Biopolis, a science park/campus not far from the GameAxis office, is one of these centers of research. The only reason I even went there is because one of the guys at the office suggested we eat there, it being nearby and none us ever having eaten there before, so it was a “what the hell” moment that led to me quickly being overcome by an intense feeling of being overwhelmed. I was initially confused as to what invisible force was seemingly blowing against me with torrential-like speed when I realized it was the massive collective IQ of a few thousand people several orders of magnitude smarter than anyone else within a 5000 mile radius.

Whereas the rest of us sit around at lunch and say “Yeah, how ’bout them Oscars,” these guys sit around and say, “Yeah, I sneezed and it suddenly occurred to me how we could cure cancer,” or, “Screw YOU, Captain Kirk is TEN TIMES the man Picard is, and I know because I’ve figured out how to clone a person with a fingernail, a rubber band, a petri dish, calculator and 6 ounces of uranium 238 mixed with ketchup! Plus, I TOTALLY RULE MAGIC THE GATHERING!”

These people are clear and clinching proof of the success of the nerd. Some of them still carried all the hallmarks of their youth, the gangly limbs, massive adam’s apple, glasses with lenses thick enough to stop gamma rays, short sleeved shirts with collars and bad posture, and yet, whereas their jock competitors, the ones who got all the girls in high school are now car mechanics or mid-level grunts in some office, these losers of youth with no social skills whatsoever are worth millions of dollars in Basic Patents, and are the kind of guys that those same girls that scorned them in past now desperately wish they were married to, if only to take advantage of their lack of material taste to blow their huge bank accounts on.

I stood in numb amazement as two Hot Asian Chicks sandwiched a solitary nerd who was eating lunch at his table. They laughed at his jokes, they listened with shimmering engagement to his every word, they realized that he was completely hopeless when it came to relating to other human beings, but they also realized a) he was worth tons and tons of money, and b) he was wrapped around their fingers because they were attractive girls and he was a nerd who had previously only fantasized about ever being approached by such a woman. The loneliness of the nerd, plus their incredible wealth make them easy marks for the Incredible Hotness that Asian girls can cultivate when they really set their mind to it.

But behold, this is our future. Gargantuan IQs mixed with the slinky, winsome DNA of Asian hothouse flowers. The end result? Kids that look like Keanu Reeves but think like Stephen Hawking.

Fear the future, for you cannot escape it.

Happy Dog Year

If you’re Chinese, you’re hanging out with family, getting red envelopes full of money–assuming you’re not married, and if you are married then you give them out–and generally doing the things most white people do at Christmas.

Or if you’re me, you watch a few more episodes of Lost watch Claire and Charlie get kidnapped and sit there thinking, “OH MY GOD…“

And just what the heck is it with this American fascination with Singapore anyway? When I was watching Batman Begins a chuckle was elicited from the audience when it turned out that Bruce Wayne’s various batsuit components were mass produced in Singapore. And now on Lost the plane that crashed was a Sydney flight bound for Singapore…

The weirdest part of watching Lost for me personally has been the fact that I’ve occasionally thought to myself, “Wow, this TV show really feels like it’s transporting me to a far away small, tropical island…”

And then I realize I already AM on a small tropical island and feel incredibly foolish. However, unlike the castaways on Lost, what I lack in glamour and drama I make up for with the always welcome presence of air conditioning and, most important of all, indoor plumbing.

I’m An Alien, I’m A Legal Alien

Finally got my Employment Pass, the innocuous little green card that says “Don’t arrest this character, no matter how unsavoury or anti-authoriatarian he may appear, he actually has legal right to work here.” And the best part is–at lest if you’re a snob–it’s an Employment Pass and not a Work Permit!

For those of you who don’t get the distinction, just bear in mind that Singapore–being a former British Colony–is still steep hip deep in class distinctions. They just loves to separates their people by educational or financial classes here, it’s incredibly important to them to that people know their place. So, as far as foreigners go, they fall into two classes; if you do low paying, undesirable, but necessary jobs that are too good for the locals, like cleaning streets, looking after children, constructing buildings, cleaning homes, prostituting yourself for money, etc… then you get a “Worker’s Permit” and are referred to as a Foreign Worker. However, if you do high paying, desireable jobs that the locals covet but can lack the drive, ambition, talent or imagination for, such as working in a high powered multinational corporation, directing for television, cutting throats in advertising, or prostituting yourself for corporate accounts, etc… then you get an “Employment Pass” and are referred to as an Expatriate.

Class distinctions… Gotta’ love ‘em…

Almost Legal

With medical report in hand (I don’t have AIDS, whoo!) I paid a visit to MOM (Once again, the Ministry of Manpower) and MOM told me that I was a good and healthy boy, and so I could continue to work, just as soon as I handed over my passport. It’s a weird feeling to know that you don’t have any legal means of identification (I used to have my old university ID and driver’s license, but lost those when I lost my first wallet here back in 99′) but it’s only for an evening and morning.

It also looks like the temp job is off since I got a call saying that they’d found someone and so a meeting wasn’t required after all. Oh well, looks like I’ll still be looking for something to do next year…

Bureaucracy Strikes Again

Sadly, the renewal of the passport did not go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

Going down to see good ol’ MoM, I explained that I didn’t have a medical report, and so, since my employment had expired, BUT I had received a letter saying that the renewal had been approved pending the submission of the approval letter with a medical report, could they kindly just extend my visa for another two weeks until I get the results in.

Unfortunately I think I got stuck with one of those cranky old lady bureaucrats. You know the one. Sour, dour face, lips pursed permanently in a frown, glasses throwing up a thin layer of protection between you and some beady, suspicious eyes, and eyebrows permanently turned downwards as if someone had drawn them that way. I got nagged about not having gotten the medical exam done over the last couple of weeks, but as anyone who reads this blog regularly knows, time is not something I’ve had a lot of in the last little while. Things will probably start to slow down somewhat next week, but in the meantime the business continues.

I’m going to have go in in the morning with a letter typed up from my company explaining that the results are not yet in, and please give the poor guy a break and stamp his damn passport. After that, I’ve got to go down and check out the World Cyber Games for a couple of hours, take in the ambience to write a piece on it, as well as interview Robert Krakoff of Razer, the guys that make professional level mice and other peripherals, but the interview with the Relic lead designer is canned on account of the fact that no one can find him. I don’t know, I don’t want to know…

Anyway, more articles and scripts to write. It never ends…

Yet Another Busy Week

The good news is, Zero has settled down, and it looks like his freaky meowing was a one-time thing.

The bad news is this week is remarkably busy. Again.

There’s a bunch of articles due in the last half of the week, but I think I can make my deadlines on all of them. There’s also a couple of interviews that are going to be conducted on Thursday with some of the heavyweights in gaming that are coming in for the World Cyber Games finals being held here, namely a designer from Relic (Creators of Homeworld! Whoo!) and Razer (The guys that make mice and other peripherals for gamers). There’s also a third draft of a script due on Friday, not to mention some treatments that need to be started on.

There’s also the little matter of going into the Ministry of Manpower (Or MoM as it is affectionately–or not–known by) to get my passport stamped since I just didn’t have time to go and get a medical check up which is required this time around for the renewal of my employment pass. Add onto that that I have to wait for some people to come in and repair an air conditioner that isn’t working at the new apartment, and that we still have to get rid of furniture at the old apartment, AND that the video that I was overseeing on Sunday and was told probably wouldn’t need anyone sitting in for the edit has, unsurprisingly, developed to the point where they now think that they need someone sitting in on the edit, and you have a pretty busy week.

So much for starting on that new novel. Back to my articles…

Busy, Busy, Busy

A fairly productive day.

If there’s nothing of interest or stimulating intellectualism to report, it’s because there’s just a bunch o’ stuff to do. The mini-series is, for the most part, done. All the episodes have been written, so now the only thing left to do is attend a reading tomorrow where all the actors will finally get their hands on the script and see what we’ve done t0-… sorry, with them. I also had a talk with the guys at the studio that are currently in production on their animated series and they want to see a script out of me by Monday, which, concidentally, is when I’m supposed to submit an outline for a documentary, and possibly hand in an article or two for GameAxis.

On top of this, there is the Wife’s big thing.

It would seem in Singapore that there is a belief that there are only two kinds of visual artists; the Artist, and the Graphic Designer. The Wife has gotten into conversations where she’s mentioned she’s an illustrator and people have NO idea what she’s talking about. Then she says that she draws pictures, and the person she’s speaking to says, “Oh, so you’re an artist.” Then she says no, because it’s not artwork that appears in galleries, it’s stuff that goes in companies and magazines, and they say, “OH! So you’re a graphic designer!” and she has to explain that graphic designers don’t do pictures specifically, and it’s usually at this point the conversation breaks down completely and she’s left with an intense desire to find a large, heavy dictionary, preferably made of gold brick, and hurl it at whoever she’ s speaking to with the page open to “I”.

The result is, she got fed up and since there’s an exhibition of design going on in Singapore, she threw her hat in and proposed to the governing body of the exhibition that they should have something about professional illustrators since it seems that most people in Singapore are unaware the occupation exists. They thought this was a fine idea, and now she’s going nuts trying to keep it running smoothly for the big debut at the end of November.

So I am organizing stuff for her, since I can’t draw to save my life, and have thus contributed by writing artist’s bios (Artists don’t like to write, it would appear) and create forms with lists of artwork and such for the organizers to refer to.

Which is what I should be doing now, and so I will.