The Devil Gazing at the Deep Blue Sea : Between You & Singapore Politics

I am XenoBoy. I am the Political Savant.

Why is blogosphere so fun and so rich in unpredictable political potential? Mr Wang (commentarysingapore.blogspot.com) kills Singapore Classics (singaporeclassics.blogspot.com) and accuses Anthony. And Singapore Classics is dead. Literally dead. Out of existence. The Clown is down.

The sea is so blue, a sparkling ripple of dancing sunlight like that forgotten necklace. From Perrini's? The one you blew your holiday job salary for that JC sweetheart. The blue is so intense in its promise of a cool embrace. You feel that you have to take that step. Cross that threshold. Traverse the Between in one drawn breath; from your nest of safety into the depths of that mysterious blue.

At the Between, on the Threshhold, in that Moment, the Devil says : You take that step. Your Order turns to Chaos. The savings of your Life disappear. You lose everything.

A blink and hesitation. The glamour of the Blue disappears. You turn back to join the Devil by his side. Back to the PanoptiPoint, where you can see all the beauty laid before you.

And you ask him,"Cannot you see the Blue?". And he says : But I am Blind. And I Need You by my side to tell me what lies beyond the Between.

I am XenoBoy. I am the Political Savant.

At both ends of Politics, there is glamour at play. A manipulation of wants and needs, obligations and adventure. The mechanisms of persuasion to earth-bound rootedness by the Devil and the illusion of unbridled freedom, of infinite potentiality of the Deep Blue Sea.

Political systems play this game of manipulation not because they are intrinsically bad but simply because politics is about this. Politics understands that the difference engine is within the unpredictable human mind and it seeks to predict-alize this.

And in the meantime, Singapore Classics died because Mr Wang Said So.

I am XenoBoy. I am the Political Savant.

Quote of the day,

" '... but I have teeth that rend and tear the living flesh from the bones, and I can swallow it while the lifeblood still fountains into the sky.' And then Spider made a noise. It was a noise that could be made without a tongue, without even opening his lips. It was a "meh" noise of amused disdain. You may be all these things, Tiger, it seemed to say, but so what? All the stories that ever were are Anansi's. Nobody tells Tiger stories." Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys