AirShow

Comic opera it aint unfortunately, more's the pity. This is true-life politics rather; politics clarified, the sharp, pointy end. Politics by other means (rehearsal stage and in costume). 
         It's the biannual Singapore Airshow 2012 at the Changi Exhibition Centre. Somewhere out near the passenger terminal they must have a handkerchief of reclaimed land on this island sufficient to host such an event. At this eastern Geylang end we often get a great number of fighter jets and transports thundering low overhead toward Changi. Gives the Malays around Geylang Serai a good look in case their minds start wandering. Seven or eight kilometres away taking in the display full throttle one can only imagine the frisson, the stirring in the loins for the petrol-heads and machine-gun fellatio crowd. (Our own Roulettes were here bursting the clouds and making nice pics in the days following.) The turnstiles were ticking over from day one, if the news reports can be believed. The real business however is enticing pollies and generals (always and everywhere — no exceptions — close cousins, if not one and the same) to get themselves some. 
         Long horizontal pic across the top of page 11 today (Straits Times) reminiscent of old Cold War Red Square footage of the tubby bears — Joe, Beria, the shoe-tapper Krushchev later — up on the balconey observing the parade. Being Singapore, in this instance the prospect is rather different. What is captured by the drammatic tableau in the gazebo at the Sing AirShow 2012 is an variant form of the predominant social behaviour on this territory; namely, the endless, utterly compulsive and completely (air-) conditioned festive shopping spree. What else in this city famed for its premier global retail strip! 
         Unlike the old drab Russian composition, this is very much a painterly group portrait. The chaps stand behind hoarding in national colours to make them feel at home, uniformed services in all bar two of the cases. The buttons are shiny, epaulettes starched, classic twin pockets favoured in blues and fawn. One General's seen it all before and is using his iphone to take a pic of his wife (rather than mistress, lucky for him). The Indonesian contingent are grinning skyward - they have just seen precisely what they need (in Irian Jaya perhaps). An Arab pair make difficult customers; not easy to impress. The Americans have them well-supplied with the best hardware of its kind, discounted specially. Still, can't help being a bit taken all the same, despite themselves; that arm akimbo will soon be signing a cheque. Another Arab in a camel tunic falls automatically into the posture of audience-with-sovereign: cap under-arm, almost fully at attention when he should be at ease. (Camera caught out of the corner of his eye possibly.)
         A casino visit at the Marina Bay Sands on the cards while in town. Up to the famous skypool to survey the spectacular city towers over drinks. Orchard girls. These dark lads would prefer blondes — Russians and Poles on hand if they can't get real Scandinavian. The Safari Zoo. Or perhaps not—enough nature, dirt and wilderness where they come from. That's why they're here: to buy and uplift their people into modernity. (Keep the autocrats safe at night simultaneously.) The wife getting her pic taken extreme right sports a leopard-print top. Prized in Lion City Singapura as most places. Is it from Tang's?
         The accompanying article concentrates on record-breaking civilian sales. Discretion required the other side of the ledger — as in Switzerland with monies: mum's the word.