Basket.

It's stay-out night and I am sitting here contemplating being fried to a crisp by the lovely Singapore weather. Fucking hell, it seriously hurts. The worst possible weather for drill, and we had to do so much of it.

I just watched a tiny lizard burrow out from *somewhere* and disappear into my printer, which, being an old model, is unnecessarily vast. I am slightly worried that the next time I print something, I'm going to inadvertently grind up the little critter. It was, however, too fast for me to catch, although I did try. Well, if fate has it that the lizard must die, it must.

Tommorrow is Wednesday and I look forward to the end of another week. Live for the next bookout and time flies. Or maybe it does anyway.

Another week done with as June dawns. One-quarter of my service term will soon be over, and for that I am glad.

What I have come to realise all these months is that, beyond a certain threshold of tiredness or pain, one just becomes robot-like. I remember route marches; after a while it was simply my feet moving one in front of the other without conscious effort, while my mind blocked out the pain. We became beings hardly sentient, trudging towards a goal without thinking, without more reason than it was something we had to do.

Parades and parade rehearsals are similar. After an hour or so of standing there, unmoving, your mind just kind of goes into standby mode and you go into a trance-like state. The commands seem to come from far away, drifting dreamily through fog, and the brain does not seem to register them. Yet the feet move, seemingly of their own accord, move to carry out the command.

Bear that in mind the next time you watch the NDP or any such parade. Behind all the pomp and pageantry are people who have (temporarily, though) lost their very soul.

My page literally vanished for some hours in the afternoon... seems to be functioning fine now, though. The vagaries of technology.

It's been a rather routine, stay-home day (partly because, of course, all my best companions are at work or in camp, which is one disadvantage I can think of about being let out mid-week). I went for a haircut and stopped by the library, where I got some local literature (including my literary guilty pleasure, one of the poorly-written volumes of the Nightmares series, supposedly edited although I see no evidence to the effect, by a certain OOPS I THINK IT MAY BE LIBEL TO NAME HIM SHIT. But his publications are ubiquitous, so I think some of you may know who this is). I also got a couple of Alan Moore graphic novels, the first I'm going to read in a very long time.

Speaking of libel and blogs, there has been quite a flurry in recent weeks over how certain bloggers are getting themselves into deep shit by criticising particular organisations of personalities on their own webspaces. As usual, I tend to think it is a huge fuss over nothing. But this is Singapore, the land where most people have an enormous tendency to overreact, and where some people have an equally vast intolerance for dissenting opinions. I would not expect such people to change their attitudes anytime soon; rather than get a heart and/or a sense of humour, they would threaten legal action upon those whose only crime was to speak their minds, and who are virtually defenceless before their array of lawyers and statutes.

I do not know what satisfaction lies in crushing a puny foe. I wonder how orgasmic pleasure can be derived from seeing an opponent so obviously inferior meekly issue a statement retracting all comments (despite the fact that they largely can only pass for libel by the vaguest of definitions) and profferring a sincere apology to the almighty offended party, the organisation he heads and the paving stones of his driveway. Because the way they keep doing it, it seems as though that is exactly what they are gaining.

To make things even more laughable, the government recently called upon the young to "speak their minds". Some of the young answered the call, and this is what they got. "Speak your mind, but we will sue the pants off your candyass if you do" seems to be the message. Okay... it's not like we aren't used to things like that coming down from above - "Let us cultivate creativity, but do it within strict guidelines" can sum up MOE's Project Work initiative, for instance.

As usual, there have been those smart enough to point this out. As usual, authority has its sycophants, who write to the Forum Page claiming that all this nonsense about freedom of speech and speaking one's mind must be done within accepted guidelines and regulations, set of course by the government. These young upstarts, how dare they actually have informed opinions of their own, let alone express them? The sheer temerity!

Singapore is no police state, but this country must have one of the most pervasive and omnipotent governments in the world. A good job in the civil service is commonly considered the pinnacle of achievement for any bright young Singaporean, and the most prestigious of scholarships in the country are provided by a small number of government organisations. This all occurs even as the military exerts a sometimes not-too-subtle influence on the daily lives of each and every one of us (and a distinctly un-subtle influence for two years on the male half of the population) and the ISD lurks in the background. No one bats an eyelid at military parades - from SAF Day to the NDP mobile column that showcases our latest killer hardware. Armed soldiers at the airport are as much part of the usual scenery as potted plants. The Internal Security Act remains, a monolithic statute designed to combat an insurgency that ended nearly fifty years ago. The SAF still prepares to combat a leftist insurgency, although it has not trained its troops in riot control since the 1970s.

But perhaps I digressed in commenting on Big Government in Singapore. My point is that the government really should stop calling for this and that, then showing their insincerity in the most blatant way possible by their actions afterward. If they truly want to let the people go, do it. I do not see what they have to fear. Even with completely free elections, the PAP is in no danger or even losing an overwhelming majority, let alone a simple majority. And do you think the average person on the street is given to standing on bloodied barricades and crying for freedom over the slain bodies of his comrades? But if they don't, don't say anything. I don't see what is so hard about that.

Your Birthdate: October 4

Being born on the 4th day of the month should help make you a better manager and organizer. You may be more responsible and self-disciplined than you realize. Sincere and honest, you are a serious and hard working individual. Your feelings are likely to seem somewhat repressed at times. The number 4 has something of an inhibiting effect on your ability to show and express affections, as feeling are very closely regulated and controlled. You are apt to be much more practical, rational, and conscious of details. There is a good deal of rigidity and stubbornness associated with the number 4.

Shit. I hate to admit this, but that's eerily accurate.

And now for something I haven't done in a while - a midweek update, made possible because I have off for most of this week, although no long weekend thanks to that overt show of chest-breating militarism known as SAF Day.

The role of the military in contemporary Singapore is certainly one deserving of closer examination - but not here and not now.

The long weekend I did have, that is, the one just past, was a good one by any standards. I watched two movies in two days and added to my growing collection of history books (I'm afraid it may grow so large I'll never finish some of them) with three fine acquisitions from my favourite place in Orchard - Kinokuniya. Star Wars was good, and the Amityville Horror one of the better horror films I've seen (although it still failed to get me scared).

Another little anecdote that made me think again about how the years have simply disappeared; at dinner with Winston on Sunday prior to catching the latter above-mentioned film, he mentioned his sister. I idly asked how old she was, and was a little startled when he said she was Sec 4. Wasn't it just yesterday that he was mentioning her taking PSLE? No, wait - that was all of four years ago, when the two of us were still in RI, when the two of us were still classmates, when he was still this cute, homely little guy with a floppy centre-parting instead of the rather broader, more streetwise urchin with hair that fit that label with its shape.

Forgive me for that, if you are reading this. But if you can call me a "fashion disaster" on your blog... (not that I do not admit to being one)

Anyway, it was good to meet up with old acquaintances over the weekend, including the old BLYC gang. Brought back lots of memories, and it is always interesting to see how people change over the years - as they inevitably do, be it for the better or for worse.

And now to grouse a little. This isn't a new grouse, too. It seems most of the world that is free (in the way that a man who is not in prison is) is out there seeing other countries, other places, other destinations infinitely more exotic than this tiny island where there are only a handful of places worth the going and where those selfsame places virtually rob you of money a lot of the time. I'm jealous of this. Very jealous. I itch to get off this damned piece of dirt, because I haven't in all of five years. I feel like the proverbial frog at the bottom of the proverbial well, able to see only a small round circle of an infinitely vast sky.

The itch is there, but for now I can't scratch it. Very frustrating. I've been wanting to see an actual historical battle site for years and years now, but the best I've ever got is Bukit Panjang, where the Malay Regiment bravely held off waves of Japanese assaults during the Battle for Singapore. It isn't enough. The world has so much history, and as many books as I've read, I haven't actually managed to get out there and experience even the tiniest portion of it. It grates on me no end.

A full two weeks of no updates, because I have been drowning my weekends in my strategy game of the moment. It's been overall a pretty good half-month, but I'm dreading next week; that is when I will once again have to wake at unearthly hours (although only on certain days) as compared to the fairly respectable current time of 0615 and suffer through endless hours of drill upon that baking desert of a parade square. All to promote the organisation I so unwillingly serve to a largely uncaring public.

This Tuesday past, the 8th FATA Trade Course ended. I missed the course closing because I had a scholarship interview, but apparently it wasn't much. Just a huge AAR and some "refreshments" (ie generic catered food eg the famous samosa). It was a tad odd to leave camp still a trainee and return an enlisted man.

Things have been looser since then, and we put the few night's outs granted to us to good (but expensive) use playing DOTA. Compared to the austerity of my student life, I'm positively a Vegas high-roller now.

To top it all off, my choice of university was finally settled today, and it is none other than the venerable National University of Singapore. I once belittled it in youthful ignorance, but I have since realised that it is actually a tertiary institution of no small merit. I have got into their University Scholars' Programme, am being offered direct entry into the major of my choice and some spanking new accomodation. The best part is, MOE is going to pay for it all. Yes, my interview was successful, and for that I am happy. I don't think I can get a better deal than this, so I'm going for it.

Just wondering how people are going to respond when they ask and I tell.

I will commemorate the day World War Two ended in Europe in advance, lest I forget tommorrow. It will be exactly sixty years since the Third Reich crumbled amidst the rubble and corpses of a Berlin Adolf Hitler intended to make capital of a thousand-year empire. But the greatest conflict mankind has yet seen was not to end until three months and hundreds of thousands of lives later.

To return to the present, I ventured into town again today, this time to catch Kingdom of Heaven with a fresh-off-the-fastcraft Jason. I was promptly confronted with the unpleasant fact that the already-high cost of living is rising and will most probably rise yet more in the near future.

Cinema tickets at $9.50 each is outrageous. So is the price of food in most places. But what really makes my blood boil is the proposed public transport fare hikes. The last hikes were when exactly? Two years ago. SMRT and SBS Transit have had the magnanimity not to raise fares for all of two (2!) fucking years. A whole two years! They are really too kind.

Of course, I think such a proposal is ridiculous and if the PTC has any concern at all for the common Singaporean, it will turn this down flat and chastise our august public transport operators for having not one iota of empathy for the man/woman in the street. Unfortunately, I am also old enough to no longer believe in fairy tales. To call the PTC a regulatory body would be to misuse the term - I cannot recall a single instance when it has turned down SMRT or SBS Transit's requests. Despite ferocious public opposition and some of the fiercest debates ever seen in independent Singapore's normally tepid Parliament, the last round of fare hikes went through without a hitch. There is no reason to suppose this round won't either.

This action by our public transport operators is nothing short of bald misuse of monopoly power. No other firms in Singapore can provide what they provide, and they know it. If fares were fifty dollars a ride, plenty of Singaporeans would still have to take the MRT. As such, they have immense power over our lives, and they are choosing to wield it now even as the PTC, designed to prevent the abuse of such power, plays the obedient lapdog. In a pathetic attempt to cloak their money-grubbing motives, the same old tired excuses are wheeled out again - the fare increases are necessary because of higher diesel prices, and better service will be provided. Oh, come now - with the amount I'm already paying, I expect no less than bus drivers prostrate and kissing the feet of every passenger as they board, complemented by a harem of nubile dancing maidens serving up the finest delicacies of the Orient on every bus. Last I checked (which was... wow, today!), that hasn't happened. As things are, the bus drivers don't even deign us with a curt greeting.

And I'm not asking for that. I could not give less of a fuck how the bus driver treats me. What I am asking for is a public transport service that gets me from point to point efficiently with cost-effective prices. Our bus and MRT services have done the first point reasonably well enough by my admittedly-low standards (though I still wonder at the point of bus timetables; the next time I see a bus arrive at the times displayed will be the first) - but they have not done it at the prices I feel are reasonable.

The fare hikes are even harder to justify from a humanist point of view when one considers that both public transport operators made record profits of more than $100 million last year, and up to $10 million from their bus and MRT services alone. And they did this despite higher oil prices. PTC ahs promised to look at it - but, curiously, they say they will only look at the profit both operators have made from their provision of public transport. This strikes me as making no sense whatsoever - why make the distinction when it is the overall profit that matters to the two firms? It is a sign that the PTC is going to play the lapdog and approve the fare hikes, then roll over and let its two masters and the government scratch its belly and give it a biscuit treat.

And the government was just that day speaking of improving the lot of the Singapore worker. If they are sincere about it (which I doubt), it is very simple - nationalise the provision of public transport and hold fees low. There is no need for the bells and whistles of silly and complicated schemes like New Singapore Shares.

A relatively peaceful week, this one just past, compared to the walk in hell its predecessor was. Except, of course, the headbreaking exams - one I am almost certain I am going to fail, and another I scraped a pass on even with some rather judicious amounts of... assistance from my coursemates and supervising sergeant.

Quite a bit of the time, it feels like school all over again - only with the good parts cut out. The way I felt after taking my BT exam was so familiar... it was the same sinking feeling of uncertainty I always got after Maths exams in JC. I've been scraping passes all over the place - a performance as uneven as the ones I used to coax out of Maths or (at times) Econs. At least I have to care a lot less about doing well and a lot more about merely passing.

One week and a little bit more and I end trainee life for good. Can't say I'm looking back on everything so far with anything like fondness. Trainees are, after all, the algae in the enormous food web that is the SAF - plentiful, right at the bottom and accorded absolutely zero respect as mere (literally, perhaps) pond scum.

Today was the day I rolled back the years as I crammed two reunions and a visit to an antique shop that took on some potent symbolism into a mere 13 hours. The afternoon was spent at lunch with the class, and we had the usual fun swapping NS experiences and memories of Mona. After most of us left at about 3pm, Yi San told of this antique shop/museum down at Kampong Glam she had read about. Thinking it interesting, I tagged along, and did not regret it. Truly, it was a peek into the past, into an old Singapore the likes of which has forever vanished - jostled out of the way by inevitable modernity.

Looking at the artifacts, poignantly no longer a useful part of the present cosmopolitan, concrete-steel-glass New Singapore, I was moved to reflect, not for the first time of course, how things must change - whether we like them to or not. "To remember everything is a form of madness", and we must modernise, accept and adapt to changing times before they pass us by.

The mute artifacts moved me to reflect on yet another thing: how school life, with all its colour, idiosyncracies and emotional rollercoaster rides, is now as firmly in my past as these old trinkets are in Singapore's. No more are iceballs going to be popular, and no more am I going to be a student of the sort I was for thirteen of the past eighteen years. The old way of life will never return. The pang I felt was a greater one than I expected.

We parted ways at about 5.30pm and I then made my way down to Tse Yang's house for the long-awaited HISSOC exco reunion. I arrived at 6.25pm - punctual/early as usual. We laughed about how some things never change (I was never ever late for any HISSOC meeting or event) and settled down to wait for the rest like we had done so so many times over the past two years. Aaron was next to come, as he had always been in the past two years. Josephine, Charmian, Jen and Rachel also came along. It was good to see them all again after so long (or so it felt, so long).

We then proceeded to spend the entire night demolishing the large spread of food that had been prepared, catching up with each other and reminscing about old times as we did so. A pity Mr Kwok could not make it - his presence would have been welcome.

Time advanced mercilessly quick, and we were all unwilling to break up when the time finally came. Excellent food and even better company - it was a wonderful evening indeed. And now I'm full and happy and ready to face the 8th FATA Trade Course once more.