oh my god

Holy Macaroni. God must be real sad (perhaps more amused than sad) to know that we man, are worshipping stranger things these days. The prefix of God is typically ‘Holy’ because God is indeed divine and good.

So am I right to assume that whatever comes after Holy is the God that one worships?
Let’s see:
Holy Cow
Holy Macaroni
Holy Shit
Holy Crap

I can understand if an animal lover or a beef lover worships the Cow.

I can also try to accept a Macaroni lover kneeling down before a packet of Macaroni asking for forgiveness and blessing.

But why would anyone revere a piece of poop, let alone asking it for salvation? Hmm...

I use to have a sergeant that threatened not to give us more than 3 chances when we made mistakes or broke some rule. To qualify his ‘3 chances’ yardstick, he often quipped, ‘Even god only forgives 3 times, so don’t expect me to forgive more than 3 times.’

Wait wait,

but since when god forgives only 3 times. The last I checked God is all forgiving as long as one is willing to receive his unconditional forgiveness. Even if you insist there is a number to it, there is a parable in the bible that says something about forgiving 7x7 times. (I hope I didn’t let my Sunday school teacher down.) Even this doesn’t amount to only forgiving 49 times as this is after all an allegory.

so, it really makes me wonder which god he worships that forgives only 3 times..

__________
maybe its the Macaroni

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_____
im high on apples

behind those forbidden walls

Watching a musical at the Esplanade can be quite an experience. After all, the durians by the bay often spot a conglomeration of novel and prestigious events. It is also where the artsy people in town come together. Hence, I was right there last week for the sell-out performance of Singapore’s grandest musical, Forbidden City: Portrait of an Empress.

It has been a long time since I did something apart from the mundanities of everyday life. I have always and still looking forward to lead a high life; watching musicals, playing tennis, and most important living life to the fullest. Of course, I’ve very much realized that this comes with a hefty price tag. Having to look for like minded company each spending $74 for left brain nourishment ain’t no easy task. So we, Jayden, Roy and I had a high-life night.

For a local production, Forbidden City didn’t disappoint. Though I wouldn’t use grandeur to describe the set, props and storyline, it is a musical that can put Singapore onto the map of world-class musicals.

Forbidden City is really a historical retelling of the story of China's Empress Dowager; the story is seen from the eyes of an American painter, Kate Carl, who is commissioned to paint the Empress' portrait.

The Empress recounts her amazing journey from a young imperial concubine to become the Empress of China and the pressures she faced. The musical explores the myths surrounding her reign, from the controversial death of her only son to her ambitious tussle for power.

For myself and many, I’ve grown up learning that Cixi was better known as the Dragon Lady, the Empress sent from hell. Folklore has it that Cixi killed her only son and often tortured her servants. It was known that she once ordered for an old Eunuch to be killed for commenting, "The humble servant will now kill the Old Buddha's horse." while playing a game of chess. She is better known as a devious despot who maintained a death grip on what little power she had until that power faded out completely.

Or was she misunderstood? Forbidden City opened my eyes to this lady as it depicted a different side of the story. A Cixi that has been unfairly maligned and when seen more closely, her actions were reasonable responses to the difficulties that China faced.

This inevitably got me thinking. Perhaps everyone has a different side of the story to tell. On the same note, everyone has secrets they cannot bare to tell.

At the end of the day, even if it was only for Kit Chan’s singing I was paying for, I would have already gotten back my every cent worth.

Another song please, Kit.

____________________
walked along Singapore River after the musical
stumbled upon an exhibit of the Singapore Biennale, Miracle.
Imagine on a dry day, you walk past a tree and you observe the
tree raining, literally.

What a strange sight.

Superstar

I was due to write this some time back, but hesitation held me back. On 2^nd thoughts, I’ve decided that I will just write. Here goes.

I like to sing. I know I don’t have the best of vocals but at least I can hold a tune, I hope. I torture my neighbors mostly when im at the comfort of my bathroom. (Actually I sing at almost every corner of my house and I really pity my family.) I’ve discovered a long time back that next to the lift, my bathroom has one of the best acoustics in my HDB block. I feel songs can effectively help emote my feelings. Times when I cannot express myself through words, the music somehow will sync up with within. Naturally in my wildest dreams, I sometimes wish to be a singer, so that I can communicate through songs and music.. It’s so much easier, precise, comfortable.

To be blatantly honest, I know God has blessed me with a voice I know Im satisfied with. That’s why I dream to grow up singing.

3^rd September, a couple of Saturdays back, I decided to register and audition in the Chinese equivalent of Singapore Idol, ‘Project Superstar 2’. To me, 3^rd Sept was THE DATE. I was excited I tell you. For the 1^st time in God knows how many years, I ate no chilli for almost 1 week! (quite a feat) I drunk a lot of water, abstained from fried and oily food. I gulped down 2 pots of chrysanthemum and liang-teh and a tube of lozenges. I sure was excited.

Only a few people knew I was going for it. I didn’t want to tell the whole world then because scarly kenna kick out then very malu. Those who knew were really supportive. They believed in me and told me how they were sure I’d definitely make it through the 1^st round of audition.

Thanks:

- Erica and Shaun for attempting to give me a make over.

- Kevin for ferrying me from Tampines all the way to the audition venue (Toa Payoh HDB hub) at mid-night.

- Hong Yi and all those (above 3 inclusive) who got all excited for me, wanted to be my -finance manger and what not, the K-box sessions, recce-ing HDB hub on 2^nd Sept midnight and the sms-es.

Truly, I meant it when I told them, ‘with friends like you guys, I feel like a Superstar already.’

I had mixed feelings a couple of days before the auditions. Don’t laugh because I think of the funniest things. I wondered if I really get far and famous, will I have less time to spare for my family, especially my mum and my friends. I questioned my motive of wanting to get through the auditions so much. Did I really do it for the love of singing or am I just another naïve nobody craving for attention, fame and riches. What if I get in, can I cope with fame and the superficial? Being watched every moment, having to fake a smile, not even being able to blog publicly. That sounds bad already.

Conversely, I’d love to do something that will make the people around me proud of me. I’d love to use my voice to (chezsy as it sounds) to instill hope and joy into people’s life. I’d love to make an impact, be somebody.

At the end of the day, I wasn’t able to reconcile my conflicting thoughts; I shove them all under the carpet and reported there at 0700 hrs that morning. Surprisingly KQ and I were within the barricades, about 1^st 150 in the queue. At 0800hrs, the queue more than tripled. So we waited under the hot sun, and waited and waited. There were many people, many audiences, many things happening. 6 Hrs later, we were ushered into the holding area where the auditions were held. Just like Idol, I shuffled my feet into the audition room. I was welcomed by 3 I-don’t-know-judges (teevee producers), a cameraman and a couple of miscellaneous people.

In Mandarin, these were my exact words,

‘Hi, im 3625, Marcus Wang.

I 21 years this year and I’ll bring to you Yuan Lai by Lin JJ.’

I did my thing. As I was singing, I tried to maintain eye contact. They were nodding at me and amongst themselves as if they liked what I was doing. I had a good feeling and that boosted my confidence. They didn’t even interrupt me and I ended feeling good. I looked at them intently. They didn’t say anything. They next thing I heard was a ‘tEEeeehhh’ sound. I was supposed to see a red/green light but I couldn’t locate the lamp. By the time I did, the light already went off. I walked out with a blank mind assuming I got kicked out since I heard the green light comes with a ‘ting’ sound.

What I don’t understand is why the judges kept nodding their heads as if in approval. Both my friends who participated didn’t get any nods. They were also cut off before they finished singing their part. I let out the news; my friends were surprised at the failed attempt. So was I, but I stayed calm.

I took the 1^st bus that came along and got home. I bought a packet of Nasi Lemak and asked for more chilli. I haven’t eaten chilli for days. After lunch, I took a hot bath and slept. I thought I was fine, not until I started to feel really sad after I woke up. It’s like having a dream but failing to fulfill it. I hate to admit but I felt crushed.

I’ve since gotten over it. I may not be on the route of being a Superstar, but my friends already made me feel like one.

I still like singing.

On my corkboard, a poster of handsome horses reads,

CONFIDENCE

Life’s battles don’t always go to the strongest or the fastest, but sooner or later the one who wins is the one who thinks he can.

________________

Thank You Steve Irwin
for your
Love and Contribution
towards
the animals,
the Crocs
and the wildlife.