Zombies imitate what other zombies do
I have many irritating traits and one of the many is my tendency to shoot my mouth off. This, I believe, is the distinction that keeps me away from being the noble gentleman. I am not proud of it.
But I will continue to speak up and speak my mind.
We had a performance last night at an event set right in the middle of the Pioneer heartland (somewhere in Jurong West). There were booths and all sorts of performances on stage. The event was, honestly, a way for the MP of the area to come up for a few minutes and ask for voter support. He mentioned it in his speech. I walked around and I felt very sorry for the people there.
This wasn't a fiesta or a celebration for the community. It wasn't there with the social objective of binding the community together or having a celebration among neighbours. The whole thing was a vehicle for a political objective. The winners for the children's costume dress-up competition weren't the kids who had creative costumes (cowgirl costume made up of gardenia loaf bags). They were in third place, the malay boy in the arabic costume, the indian girl in some funny white costume in second place and in first place, a chinese girl in an ordinary indian sari. Any surprises?
Sigh. While I had no right to judge the people, I felt sure most would never realize what was happening. Because they were all zombies.
They all stood around (mostly on one foot), expressionless and dully looking at anything of interest. Anything of interest here refers to any movement or sound namely the stuff happening on stage and my friends and I making fools of ourselves at the side of the stage. If you were there, you would see that there was really no spark of life in their eyes. None of the performances (ours included) garnered any form of response other than some feeble claps (zombies imitate what other zombies are doing).
Oh but I'm a little mistaken. You know how zombies in the movies retain their most primal instincts, for example to feed? Well, the primal instinct here isn't to feed, it was being kiasu.
The queue for the free cotton candy was ridiculously long.. i swear almost 50% of the people there were in always in one queue or another. I walked past the cotton candy queues and received a large shout from a zombie feeling quite self-important, "WANT COTTON CANDY LINE UP FIRST". After an hour on the cotton candy queue, jump to the kacang puteh queue. I swear some of them get into the queue first and ask what it is for later. Parent zombies fervently painting for their children's clog-painting competition. The only time the adult zombies stirred (and it was minute mind you) was when the emcee announced the winners of the lucky draw competition.
The only only ONLY life in the whole area were thankfully, the kids. They were the only ones who dared to check out the politically correct culture booths and play the games there. They were the only ones who responded to the games and performances. Seven Till Dawn played to a bunch of kids last night.
Because zombies imitate what other zombies are doing, they either execute the instruction from the man in white that spoke on the stage (his picture big big on the stage backdrop so must be important zombie) or follow what the other zombies are doing (especially the grassroot leader zombies).
But you know what, I'm being a prick. I'm calling these people zombies and the whole event a political vehicle. While I wish that the people there were alive (intellectually, mentally, emotionally, anything..) and that the event was a more genuine celebration for the community, I have no right to judge. These people are dull and this event was a little spark in their dull lives. Or maybe I have no right to judge them as dull, maybe they were all amazing individuals with perfectly full and active lives. As expected, I was shooting my mouth off backstage on what I saw and how I felt and it obviously annoyed this lady who was putting makeup on her daughter. The daughter, barely 8 years old I think, was to go on stage a deliver a singing performance. She had an amazing voice. The mother looked intently on from the side.
Obviously, it drew no response from the zom.. from the crowd. For a minute, I hated the mother for putting her daughter on that stage. No kid should ever have to go through the depression of having no one appreciating your heart-felt expressions. Jamiel said that maybe it was the kid who really wanted to do it. Granted but even then.. I would really discourage it.
And that was the moment I realized the probable reason why the mother was angry at me. I was describing how everything was pointless, the event.. putting up any performance... pointless to tell the people that they would most probably be voting for the PAP without even having had a single thought about it. I was making it all a hopeless waste but that was not what the mother needed. She wanted hope. Hope that her daughter with that amazing voice will make it big someday in this country and environment that I was criticizing. Or maybe it was simply that she didnt want her daughter to hear all that I was saying.
I dont know.. All I know is that people dont want to be told that they were leading very dull lives. Or that they were being led by the nose. Or that there really isnt any chance of a crowd-rousing performance on that stage. People want to be told that yes.. there is a chance. There is something. There is no benefit from being a messenger of doom tidings.. I think I should strive to be the messenger of glad ones. Perhaps then I would be a step closer to being a noble person.
But I will continue to speak up and speak my mind.
We had a performance last night at an event set right in the middle of the Pioneer heartland (somewhere in Jurong West). There were booths and all sorts of performances on stage. The event was, honestly, a way for the MP of the area to come up for a few minutes and ask for voter support. He mentioned it in his speech. I walked around and I felt very sorry for the people there.
This wasn't a fiesta or a celebration for the community. It wasn't there with the social objective of binding the community together or having a celebration among neighbours. The whole thing was a vehicle for a political objective. The winners for the children's costume dress-up competition weren't the kids who had creative costumes (cowgirl costume made up of gardenia loaf bags). They were in third place, the malay boy in the arabic costume, the indian girl in some funny white costume in second place and in first place, a chinese girl in an ordinary indian sari. Any surprises?
Sigh. While I had no right to judge the people, I felt sure most would never realize what was happening. Because they were all zombies.
They all stood around (mostly on one foot), expressionless and dully looking at anything of interest. Anything of interest here refers to any movement or sound namely the stuff happening on stage and my friends and I making fools of ourselves at the side of the stage. If you were there, you would see that there was really no spark of life in their eyes. None of the performances (ours included) garnered any form of response other than some feeble claps (zombies imitate what other zombies are doing).
Oh but I'm a little mistaken. You know how zombies in the movies retain their most primal instincts, for example to feed? Well, the primal instinct here isn't to feed, it was being kiasu.
The queue for the free cotton candy was ridiculously long.. i swear almost 50% of the people there were in always in one queue or another. I walked past the cotton candy queues and received a large shout from a zombie feeling quite self-important, "WANT COTTON CANDY LINE UP FIRST". After an hour on the cotton candy queue, jump to the kacang puteh queue. I swear some of them get into the queue first and ask what it is for later. Parent zombies fervently painting for their children's clog-painting competition. The only time the adult zombies stirred (and it was minute mind you) was when the emcee announced the winners of the lucky draw competition.
The only only ONLY life in the whole area were thankfully, the kids. They were the only ones who dared to check out the politically correct culture booths and play the games there. They were the only ones who responded to the games and performances. Seven Till Dawn played to a bunch of kids last night.
Because zombies imitate what other zombies are doing, they either execute the instruction from the man in white that spoke on the stage (his picture big big on the stage backdrop so must be important zombie) or follow what the other zombies are doing (especially the grassroot leader zombies).
But you know what, I'm being a prick. I'm calling these people zombies and the whole event a political vehicle. While I wish that the people there were alive (intellectually, mentally, emotionally, anything..) and that the event was a more genuine celebration for the community, I have no right to judge. These people are dull and this event was a little spark in their dull lives. Or maybe I have no right to judge them as dull, maybe they were all amazing individuals with perfectly full and active lives. As expected, I was shooting my mouth off backstage on what I saw and how I felt and it obviously annoyed this lady who was putting makeup on her daughter. The daughter, barely 8 years old I think, was to go on stage a deliver a singing performance. She had an amazing voice. The mother looked intently on from the side.
Obviously, it drew no response from the zom.. from the crowd. For a minute, I hated the mother for putting her daughter on that stage. No kid should ever have to go through the depression of having no one appreciating your heart-felt expressions. Jamiel said that maybe it was the kid who really wanted to do it. Granted but even then.. I would really discourage it.
And that was the moment I realized the probable reason why the mother was angry at me. I was describing how everything was pointless, the event.. putting up any performance... pointless to tell the people that they would most probably be voting for the PAP without even having had a single thought about it. I was making it all a hopeless waste but that was not what the mother needed. She wanted hope. Hope that her daughter with that amazing voice will make it big someday in this country and environment that I was criticizing. Or maybe it was simply that she didnt want her daughter to hear all that I was saying.
I dont know.. All I know is that people dont want to be told that they were leading very dull lives. Or that they were being led by the nose. Or that there really isnt any chance of a crowd-rousing performance on that stage. People want to be told that yes.. there is a chance. There is something. There is no benefit from being a messenger of doom tidings.. I think I should strive to be the messenger of glad ones. Perhaps then I would be a step closer to being a noble person.
posted by undergradbyday @ 2:18 PM
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