It’s Up
To Me
Fatty young student of some description on Selegie Road near Peace Centre; some solid part Caucasian that was clearly well outside the chief Western round and the Singaporean ethos predominating. Fond Eastern Euros at a guess spending plenty in their investment on their boy; if Mummy didn’t dress him in the morning she did see him to the door of the condo. The lad was caught nearer the traffic lights outside the Centre’s entrance, rather than 20 - 30 metres down where the local kids in their cut-offs and sleeveless tees, tattooed and pierced, smoke by the garbage bins. A number of Mainlanders join their Chin cousins in that sector, girls of sexual experience and boys who smoke weed. (Yes, even in Sing.) The more conventionally ambitious lad reminding himself of his personal responsibility was another kettle of fish. A week ago one of the Tekka stall-holders dishing up Lahore and Delhi fare, an older lad in his mid-30s, was picked up for his Schopenhauer Change is the only constant whatnot. Did he understand a word of that billboard? No, he confessed, he did not. Was he going to own that then, especially with Ramadan around the corner?... Something for him to consider. (Some years past a young shop assistant selling drapes at J. C. Complex in Geylang Serai had sported a Husserl if you can believe!)
NB. NYRB in its current edition carries an interview with one of the student leaders of the Paris Manifestations of fifty years ago.
Fatty young student of some description on Selegie Road near Peace Centre; some solid part Caucasian that was clearly well outside the chief Western round and the Singaporean ethos predominating. Fond Eastern Euros at a guess spending plenty in their investment on their boy; if Mummy didn’t dress him in the morning she did see him to the door of the condo. The lad was caught nearer the traffic lights outside the Centre’s entrance, rather than 20 - 30 metres down where the local kids in their cut-offs and sleeveless tees, tattooed and pierced, smoke by the garbage bins. A number of Mainlanders join their Chin cousins in that sector, girls of sexual experience and boys who smoke weed. (Yes, even in Sing.) The more conventionally ambitious lad reminding himself of his personal responsibility was another kettle of fish. A week ago one of the Tekka stall-holders dishing up Lahore and Delhi fare, an older lad in his mid-30s, was picked up for his Schopenhauer Change is the only constant whatnot. Did he understand a word of that billboard? No, he confessed, he did not. Was he going to own that then, especially with Ramadan around the corner?... Something for him to consider. (Some years past a young shop assistant selling drapes at J. C. Complex in Geylang Serai had sported a Husserl if you can believe!)
NB. NYRB in its current edition carries an interview with one of the student leaders of the Paris Manifestations of fifty years ago.
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