Us And Them cursive in gold on black carried by the beefy lad at the phone and accessories store on the walk-through for the aircon at City Plaza. Cheap items even in the higher design range, small businessmen can don a new, crisp and unfaded one with tight collar once a week. The scribe too tired to record a number of others introduced into the neighbourhood the month. Second language composers up in HK or the studios across the Pearl delta one guesses, magpie pickings in the exploration of the master culture/foreign language. Urban Groove New York a variation on the commonplace theme borne by a mainland lass getting on the bus at upper Geylang. Vandal Is Going To Destroy The World black gothic represented by a younger local still trying to find his feet in hipsterdom and of course struggling in the strangulating environment. (This lad wants to offer his girl advice on some recent trouble in either her friendship or work group.) Quite absent at any of the Komala Vilas tables half an hour later lunching. Interestingly, one finds the Indians far less prone to such faltering billboard tees; whether locals or the imported labour. Garish colour and thrown-together patterning are enough to take the fancy of this cohort. It is the local Chins, and then to a lesser extent the foreign talent from the region—not the labourers—striving for the Euro-Ameri leg-up to somewhere/anywhere. The locals, once Chinese, in the steamy hot air now feeling for something other. Straining. Identity, precious commodity not automatically conferred even with money and other top-shelf signifiers. Casting around, marooned on this castaway island. I AM SOMEBODY they wanna declare, they will assert. A tee often presses the case that cannot be made otherwise. FULL OF HIDDEN TALENTS Tick behind prison bars white on black said a lot—young fella at the Guillemard stop opposite Versailles condo in the triangle with Waterina and Sunny Views returning…. Somehow the ol’ fave here had unaccountably slipped from memory: NOBODY IS PERFECT/I AM NOBODY, mostly proclaimed by dowdy dads and prematurely aged teens foot-dragging along the pavements and through the malls. Painful wry acknowledgement that can make a observer well and truly wince. Luck Is Where PREPARATION Meets Opportunity weekend wear on a clean-cut, fresh-faced local aspirant no-one will believe of course, purchased and carried hopefully. The success of the Sing’ model thirty years flat-out in the making, leaving only the final riddle unanswered: Who/What are we? Aren’t we somebody too? Government PR sleeves rolled-up working overtime as usual.
Monday, December 28, 2015
Somebody - Nobody
Us And Them cursive in gold on black carried by the beefy lad at the phone and accessories store on the walk-through for the aircon at City Plaza. Cheap items even in the higher design range, small businessmen can don a new, crisp and unfaded one with tight collar once a week. The scribe too tired to record a number of others introduced into the neighbourhood the month. Second language composers up in HK or the studios across the Pearl delta one guesses, magpie pickings in the exploration of the master culture/foreign language. Urban Groove New York a variation on the commonplace theme borne by a mainland lass getting on the bus at upper Geylang. Vandal Is Going To Destroy The World black gothic represented by a younger local still trying to find his feet in hipsterdom and of course struggling in the strangulating environment. (This lad wants to offer his girl advice on some recent trouble in either her friendship or work group.) Quite absent at any of the Komala Vilas tables half an hour later lunching. Interestingly, one finds the Indians far less prone to such faltering billboard tees; whether locals or the imported labour. Garish colour and thrown-together patterning are enough to take the fancy of this cohort. It is the local Chins, and then to a lesser extent the foreign talent from the region—not the labourers—striving for the Euro-Ameri leg-up to somewhere/anywhere. The locals, once Chinese, in the steamy hot air now feeling for something other. Straining. Identity, precious commodity not automatically conferred even with money and other top-shelf signifiers. Casting around, marooned on this castaway island. I AM SOMEBODY they wanna declare, they will assert. A tee often presses the case that cannot be made otherwise. FULL OF HIDDEN TALENTS Tick behind prison bars white on black said a lot—young fella at the Guillemard stop opposite Versailles condo in the triangle with Waterina and Sunny Views returning…. Somehow the ol’ fave here had unaccountably slipped from memory: NOBODY IS PERFECT/I AM NOBODY, mostly proclaimed by dowdy dads and prematurely aged teens foot-dragging along the pavements and through the malls. Painful wry acknowledgement that can make a observer well and truly wince. Luck Is Where PREPARATION Meets Opportunity weekend wear on a clean-cut, fresh-faced local aspirant no-one will believe of course, purchased and carried hopefully. The success of the Sing’ model thirty years flat-out in the making, leaving only the final riddle unanswered: Who/What are we? Aren’t we somebody too? Government PR sleeves rolled-up working overtime as usual.
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