Hero Worship

On 24 July Sunday, maverick film-maker Tsui Hark arrived at Wisma Atria shopping centre with Donnie Yen and Charlie Young to promote his new wu-xia (martial chivalry) epic, SEVEN SWORDS. I waited at the atrium for over 2 hours just to see them in the flesh for 30 minutes. 1000% better than waiting 2 hours to see a doctor for 5 minutes. Now, Tsui Hark is a film-maker whom I have the highest respect for. I can relate to him better than some relatives of mine and the irony is, he doesn't even know me. But that doesn't matter. I've been his fan for over 15 years and have maintained a shrine (aka website) for over 9 years to show my devotion.



Being 10 feet away from him was enough to make me high but Donnie Yen and Charlie Young were present as well. Oh...my...God. My mind was on the verge of a cave-in. Donnie Yen... the actor who played Wong Fei Hung's father in Yuen Woo Ping's kick-ass IRON MONKEY. Donnie Yen... the actor who almost kick Jet Li's ass in ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA 2. Donnie Yen...the actor who played the super-powerful eunuch in DRAGON INN. Donnie Yen...a mere 10 feet away. Charlie Young...an object of desire during my dizzy Polytechnic days. Charlie Young...who portrayed Zhu Ying Tai in THE LOVERS and wept tears of blood. And you thought Tsui Hark couldn't pull off a weepie. Charlie Young...also a mere 10 feet away.

Can almost die without regrets, I tell you.

Ok, reality check. I've documented the event at Wisma Atria with pics and video clips. I won't blog about it here because the content is over at my Tsui Hark shrine. Check it out if you want.

Haircut

I'm one of those guys contented with a boring haircut. Been this way since Primary One. For over two decades, I've been a regular patron of one of the neighbourhood 'Mat' barber shops and it's always the usual 'trim only'. There's a strange charm about mat barber shops. Something about being addressed 'Hey, Brudder...', listening to the barbers' idle banter about soccer and the hi-fi playing hits from SCORPION and DEEP PURPLE (and sometimes Malay ballads). Charming.

Then some years back, those 'HAIRCUT FOR $10 IN 10 MINUTES' outlets sprung up everywhere. In October 2003, I 'turned my back' on the mat barber shop and gave one of the 'SPEED' outlets a try. Been a convert eversince. These SPEED hairstylists have occasionally persuaded me to do something different to my 'boring haircut'. One suggested I should keep my hair longer but I explained with my kind of face, I would only end up looking like a 'sum-seng'. Another was quick to point out that I cannot cut my hair too short, because:



Brudder, gimme the usual 'trim only' and I happy liao.

Some thoughts on Bloggers.SG 2005

I reached the venue at 1:45pm and a queue had already formed outside DXO. Sure is interesting to see my T-shirt design worn by several volunteers. I thought the queue was for the T-shirt (which I am entitled to a free piece along with the others who submitted designs for the T-shirt design competition) so I joined the queue. Wrong. A volunteer beckoned those in the queue who haven't bought their T-shirts to come forward to make the purchase. Hell, felt like a blur cock.

Leaving the queue, I walked to the guys selling the T-shirts and told them I designed the T-shirt. A lady volunteer asked for my desired T-shirt size and handed it to me without question. I didn't know I had "DANIEL WANG - WINNER OF BLOGGERS.SG 2005 T-SHIRT DESIGN COMPETITION" stamped on my forehead. Either that, or maybe my Jedi mind trick actually worked.

I only attended the first segment (SG blogging communities) of the event as I had other matters to attend to after 4pm. I got to say that Bloggers.SG is an event that one should not go alone (like me). Felt somewhat awkward/detached just by observing members of the various communities or groups of friends chatting away. It seemed so...SURREAL. Like being inside THE MATRIX. "Oh look, that's Mr Brown and company..." A passage from the Bible sums it up real good: "AND THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH."

It IS good to see the luminaries of the SG blogging scene in the flesh. Even though there was an open mike session to prove that the SG blogging aint just about Mr Miyagi, Mr Brown, etc, I felt as though I was attending a hearing in a War Crimes Tribunal. "We will now call upon so and so to provide a testimony...". Maybe the whole event should have been done online, where bloggers can continue to relish their anonymity and give their twenty cents worth.

It figures.

Click for larger version.

My Name Is Ah-Tan, For We Are Many...

Do you have any friends or acquaintances who prefer to be addressed by their surnames? As for me, I know three Mister TANs. In my opinion, there's nothing wrong with their preference. It dispenses with formalities altogether but I feel rather awkward about it.

With reference to the illustration above:
In my previous work place in the media industry, I knew two TANs. The first chap preferred to be known simply as 'TAN'. He worked in another department opposite my office. Tall and friendly chap.

The second chap worked in the same department as me. The 'uncle' preferred to be addressed as 'AH-TAN'. Chatty fella who almost never fails to have 'been there, done that' stories to share.

The third is my neighbour living in the adjacent unit. This jovial man also prefers to be known as 'TAN'. But I address him as Mister Tan out of courtesy.

Oddly, none of the LIMs, LEEs, WONGs, etc whom I know ever asked to be addressed by their surnames. Seems like only the TANs have exceptions.

What The Dickens...

I may be making a fuss over nothing but I'll say it anyway. Next to taking a piss with a cleaner aunty mopping the floor behind you, the other screwed up thing is to have a man bring his daughter into the Gents.

The man's wife may not be around so daddy can't possibly waltz into the Ladies and help Ah-Girl take a piss. SO, daddy brings Ah-Girl to the Gents. It sounds like the thing every responsible dad would do but hey, isn't it somewhat...strange? It's understandable if Ah-Girl still fits in a pram but if Ah-Girl is big enough to know how to say 'shee shee', hey, the Ladies is that way. If Ah-Girl is able to walk already, she should fare better than a toilet-trained cat.

If all the cubicles are occupied, it's just isn't right to make Ah-Girl wait and expose her to the firing squad at the urinals. Can't give Ah-girl the competitive edge over Ah-Boy in the knowledge of the birds and bees.

A situation like this is really awkward and building a 'children's only' toilet with Little Tikes toilet bowls and squatting dumpsters isn't commercially viable too. What a predicament...

Girls With Guns

Last Wednesday, my friends and I engaged in idle banter about women doing National Service. The next day, a particular image appeared in my mind and I churned out the artwork below over the next few days:



Update (26 March): 2 more inspired artworks below :)

Fashion Photography

I enjoy flipping through fashion spreads of lifestyle magazines to check out the photography. While I'm hardly a lensman, I can still come up with some inspired visuals to illustrate my personal observations (at the same time cough up some crazy ideas) of fashion photography.

A) MODEL IN THE MOST UNLIKELY AND THOUGHT PROVOKING OF PLACES
In the illustration below, the model dons an outfit resembling a school uniform complete with a tie. I've placed her in a male toilet and given her cleaning duties (or punishment). The spotlight is on her and she wears this defiant or feisty look on her face. The idea is the model is not just modelling an outfit, there's also an attitude to it.

B) MODEL AT THE MOST ORDINARY LOCATION - FLOWER IN A WASTELAND
Some of the most striking fashion spreads feature a model strutting in a town of some third world country. Everyone in the location seem oblivious to the presence of the model. The model would often have 'the 1000 yard stare'. In the illustration below, I've placed the model with a bright outfit outside a dim public toilet. The old man collecting toll is oblivious to the presence of the model. The model stares intensely into something out of the frame. A stark contrast is achieved.

Keep that digital camera of yours handy. An opportunity may present itself for you to shine as a fashion photographer.

Well, you get the idea.

I Love Fire-Drills

Just a few days back on 15 Feb, Singapore commemorated Total Defence Day. Especially on this day, fire-drills are not uncommon. In my previous employment with a big corporation, fire-drills were conducted periodically. I got to confess I LOVE fire-drills. Apart from learning how to 'run-for-my-life' in an orderly manner, fire-drills were also a good break from the monotony of work. But truth be told, there's another reason why I enjoy fire-drills. Remember watching movies with scenes of mice scurrying out from a flame-engulfed building? The fire smoked out the mice. But In the case of a fire-drill, the mock fire smoked out the babes. Yes, THE BABES.

My office was located on the third floor of a four-storey building. I hardly had any reason to go to the first, second and fourth stories. Hence, it was basically seeing the same old faces day-in-day-out. During the first fire-drill of my employment, my colleagues and I darted off to the exit at the sound of the fire alarm and made our way down via the staircase. We proceeded to the car park in the next block which was the designated assembly area. The fire-drill was a visual feast as the company had engaged the Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF) to conduct a mock rescue operation complete with smoke, fire attack vehicles and 'trapped' victims being whisked away to safety by valiant members of the SCDF. It was as good as watching a TV show.

After the mock rescue operation, appointed fire wardens started marking attendance, department by department. Looking around the crowd gathered at the car park, I could not help but notice that my office building was actually a hive of pretty girls, many of whom I hadn't seen before. Real eye candy I must say.

There's that elegant executive in the grey suit to my right:



Then there're two cutie-pies to my left. Good heavens.



It's unsurprising that some people would mysteriously 'disappear' during the fire-drill. Probably off to buy coffee or something. Needless to say, those who failed to be present at the car-park were considered as 'casualties'.

Finding Neverland

It's the second day of the Lunar New Year and my nose is running like a broken tap. I've run out of cold medicine and I decided to get some Panadol Cold tablets. Fortunately, it's business-as-usual for the mama shop just a block away. I was walking past the multi-storey carpark when I encountered a family of three: mother, daughter and son. No sign of the father, probably parking the car and dispatched the three as pathfinders. True enough, the mother gestured to me and enquired in Mandarin: "KIDDO, may I know where Block 27 is?" I pointed out the block to them and off they went.

'KIDDO?' Hey obasan, I'm old enough to be your son-in-law.

Some people say I have a youthful appearance for someone in his 30s. My brother calls it 'The Peter Pan Syndrome'. Women would kill to have such a quality but being youthful looking for a guy (coupled with the fact I'm skinny) can be a real pain-in-the-arse sometimes. I get a 70% chance of box office staff asking to see my I.D. to verify my age when I watch a R21 movie.

I remember buying a ticket to the Lord Of The Rings exhibition sometime last year at a SISTIC booth. As usual, a personal I.D. is mandatory for purchasing tickets. That obasan sales personnel who attended to me had an astonished look when she inspected my age and glanced at me. She did that twice. She asked me:"You don't look your age, how do you stay so young?" I told her "Drink adequate amounts of water". She chuckled and replied:"Drink too much, then have to go toilet very often." Maybe I should have spat on her face and tell her to spread the saliva evenly over her face with her fingers as though it was some moisturising cream.

Exaggerated? Yes. But my point is, sometimes people don't take me seriously because they perceive me as a 'KIDDO'. No kidding.

The patient

Flu season it seems has arrived. Unfortunately, this frail body of mine loves to embrace the bug. Saturday morning - I dragged my lazy ass to the clinic only to find the entrance thronged with people. Not a good sign. I went inside to register myself and was issued a queue number. The receptionist told me:"Your turn in about 45 minutes, can wait or not?" "Can't wait also must wait" I replied with a wry smile. Honestly, what else could I do but wait?



Visiting the clinic helps a patient cultivate patience. But one's determination is put to the test when the doctor happens to be a paediatrician by practice. However, the good doc attends to patients ranging from those who have not achieved self-awareness to those needing help to 'rise' to the occasion. Crying babies are understandable but screaming 2-3 year olds who abuse toys and turn magazines belonging to the clinic into kachang-puteh cones is another matter. "Hey doc, I think you'll flip over your magazines."

Then we have the 'family outing' category. A mother entered the clinic with her son. They registered, took their queue number and sat down. Shortly after, the husband entered the clinic with the kid's sibling. Not too long after, the grandparents showed up. "Hey Miss Receptionist, you may bring out the mahjong tables now and don't forget the cough mixtures from the freezer." There's only one patient in the family but seats are being occupied by others who don't really need to be present.

Seats? I'm not seated down at all. I'm standing outside the clinic with a bottle of mineral water tucked under one armpit and flipping through a free newspaper (while constantly monitoring the queue display). I'm at the clinic to get rid of my illness, not my sanity. But waiting outside the clinic was no solution either. Especially when the convenience store next to the clinic has one of those noisy coin-operated kiddy rides. 20 cents for a minute of "Kang-Ding Love Song" sung by children. Good grief.



Doc, I need to see you right now. Waiting is such a pain.