Designing Liveable Cities, Idolatry and Prayer

Because of the job, which, as everyone knows, involves plotting over undeveloped countries like a pantheon of SimCity gods* and turning Dullsville into an exciting metropolis in a decade, we have been thinking vastly and deeply about what makes cities tick.

*Joke, lah. How come only Mini-Me is laffing?

Monocle's criteria for a liveable city is one with:

• international, long-haul connections combined with a well-managed, thoughtfully designed airport;
  
• low murder rates and domestic burglaries;
  
• good state education and health care;
  
• decent hours of sunshine and average temperatures;
  
• great communications and connectivity;
  
• tolerance;
  
• ease in getting a drink after 01.00;
  
• the cost of public transport and taxis is low but the quality is high;
  
• strong local media and availability and range of international print media;
  
• access to nature and a good amount of green space;
  
• and finally, key environmental initiatives.

So, someone asked, you think how? Singapore can make it anot?
Aiyah, depends what it means to be liveable mah. Monocle criteria is only for Monocle.
I think liveable cities must be happening lor. Must have place to chiong lor.

So there was an exchange of the happenings of the past few weeks. Fine. (Plus I get a place to dump these photos.) (Plus someone's unwitting confessions shall be blackmail fodder for years to come.)

Two Fridays ago, finger-lickin' black pepper crab amidst the tourists at Newton food centre,

then K-Box karaoke in English and Chinese (and a gobsmackingly terrible demonstration of hiphop moves) at Selegie until about 4am on Saturday.

A few hours later, a wedding at the lovely chapel at CHIJMES where the morning sun shone through the stained glass onto the new couple, and there was someone sniffing that the Sainte-Chapelle looked much better, miscellaneous catching-up with people, then Taiwanese bubble tea at Paradiz served up by a Malay family,

then lunch at The Ranch Home on Dempsey Hill where the food needs a lot more tweaking. And from afar, Wong Toon King, who, other than fiddling about with SilkRoute Ventures, Z-Fencing and Ben & Jerry's also used to coach me in foil (the only fencing teacher who was willing to waste any time on me and to whom I'll always be grateful).

Later, birthday presents were sought and found amongst the crazy maze of little indie set-ups at Far East Plaza and salmon and tuna sashimi were grabbed at Meidi-Ya,

just in time for a birthday dinner with Japanese theme. The hosts, one of whom might be a closet alcoholic, were generous with desserts: Want some plums? Soaked in Choya. Care for some cherries? Griottines soaked in kirsch. The fruits that weren't to be dredged up from with some sort of alcohol had been incorporated into ice-cream. All good. So sometime into the night, the conversation got to the point where there was a debate about french fries and someone was saying,"Well, there is a certain attractiveness about limp fries". Halfway through having to go on the mobile to sort out how to meet a friend of a friend, a German lass who'd met the friend, now in Hong Kong, in London. Then the drivers, being really responsible, trialled Marvel: Ultimate Alliance until they looked less like they'd overdone the blusher.

Sunday, babies hugged and harrassed, German girls lost and found (except they turned out to be really Latvian-near-the-Black-Sea but with German passports), a good Chinese lunch and playing with a very nice Hasselblad (are there Hasselblads that aren't nice?).

Monday, a proud sms announcing that Food For Thought was now open for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And so it will be checked out because there is the promise of indie-ness and cake together.

Another night, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where the choice of movie snacks was bak kwa and McDonalds chocolate milkshake. I am afraid of being found out, said the (voluntary) courier of illegal goods. But when we got to our seats, from the sea of movie-goers around us came the bold rustling of bags of illegal burgers and illegal fries and the cracking open of illegal drinks and the crackling of illegal packets of chips. And all was well.

Thursday, The (not-illegal) Bandits were acoustic-ing it up at Tuckshop. The summary quote of the night: They sound good! But I wouldn't want to put on their CD at home.

Friday, an old friend had conned a girl into marrying him so there was a wedding at Shangri-La where there was mega-catching-up and laughing, and ex-fencers telling about TK and B&J's and how they didn't score any discounts from him and how also they'd now switched from foil to epee to dispense with having to remember rights-of-way (difficulty increases proportionally with age), and where the groom's dad, an editor with a Chinese newspaper, spoke at length and with many elegant literary phrases about Overbearing Wives And What To Do With Them. We were plied with great amounts of wine and beer and had to keep shoo-ing away waiters who were trying, surreptitiously, to refill our glasses.

Saturday, a sleep-in then a late and lazy breakfast at Mimolette, through whose tall windows you could see sturdy brown horses trotting past.

Then,

(Amid the run-up to Deathly Hallows, because we are forever associated in each other's minds with The Boy Who Lived, an ex-roommate emailed from London to say he had cleared his whole saturday so as to be able to curl up with the book, and also that if I so happened, perhaps, out of the overflowing goodness of my generous heart, to sms him spoilers before he was done, he would take the next 13-hour flight out of Heathrow and personally strangle me. Obviously, my friends are exceptionally cheerful people.)

So it was good that a frantic dinner mate called last minute to apologise: I can't meet you for dinner! I'm on a dare to get 7 dates in 7 days and the last one cancelled on me last night which means I need to find 2 tonight! Argh! (Sorry, I can't count you.)

Yay!

Sunday, Bible study was intended but after a good lunch at Ding Tai Fung where migration plans and the leaving behind of things and people were discussed, the majority of us succumbed to severe food comatose. Later, tooling around on a piano called Hyundai.

Monday, we were up for checking out the aforementioned Food For Thought, whose food a chef described as "Le Cordon Bleu meets local ingredients" and indeed, the Chicken Caesar Salad was Hainanese chicken rice and ginger and sesame oil. There was Mama Heng's Spicy Pork where Mama Heng was the mama of David Heng the Smiley Chatty Chef, there was Peter Boyer the Other Chef who kept dumping stuff down sinks they shouldn't be dumped down, there were platforms (cake stands, really) for home chefs to step out of the closet onto, there was speculating whether Mrs. Kang (of Mrs. Kang's Fresh (and retro) Durian Cake) had a house on Sixth Avenue that smelt of durian, or a kitchen that was huge and airy or very patient neighbours, or all of the above.

Later this week, there are grand plans for drinks and dinners but can't remember them all, and to add forgetfulness upon forgetfulness, have also lost the 2 organisers I got for Christmas which were meant to help me remember these things. Don't think Rememberalls would have been much use either. Fortunately, the delivery of team jerseys today reminds me that there will be a basketball tournament.

Like that, is quite chiong-able, mah, he said. Then Singapore can lor. Hor?

Not sure.

Maybe what makes a city is sunshine and low crime, parks and good healthcare. Maybe what makes a city is access to a flowing buffet of new and interesting stuff to do. Maybe what makes a city is having friends about you to chiong with. (Friends who are also family seal the deal.)

Regardless, the nice comfy thing about urban design is that it is about community, about the big picture, about the wonderfulness of create living spaces for people and making life better for them.

Yet, taken too far, relied upon too much, it is something like being addicted to SimCity. It is the elevation of architecture or urban design or city planning to the status of a panacea to all city problems and urban ills; it is the fantasy of attaining complete control that is, at its heart, ungodly and idolatrous.

Idolatry is also the ever-present danger of thinking that it might be possible for us to effect our own redemption by our obedience, our enlightenment. God's world is so good and God has endowed humanity with such gifts that we can be tempted to believe that we are sufficient unto ourselves...Prayer is the protest against idolatry. In prayer, we give the Creator what is due, acknowledging the joyful surprise that we exist. Moreover, in prayer, we claim our existence as a gift, grace. The Decalogue is God's gift to Israel continually to teach Israel how to live, not by wits, but through gift. (Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon, The Truth About God: The Ten Commandments in Christian Life)

************

The Ranch Home/Ben & Jerry's
Blk 8 Dempsey Road
#01-14
Tel: 6473 3231

Tuckshop (happenin' like a KTV but not)
Where to finded them?
21 Tanjong Pagar Road
#01-05
Tel: 6534 9287

Mimolette
55 Fairways Drive
Singapore 286846
Tel: 6467 7748

Food For Thought
420 North Bridge Road
North Bridge Centre
#01-06
Singapore 188727
Tel: 63348773

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, Magic, Love and Death

Well, that's done then.

The canon: revealed to be fanfiction on shoot-'em-up blockbuster steroids (interesting innit, the universality of certain fears and hopes and dreams), accompanied by healthy shot of deus ex machina, a goodly dose of Chekhov's gun, a sprinkling of peripeteia (some gratuitous). Throughout, the Harry/Voldemort mindlink was milked to the max for toggling between scenes. And at the end, an express cash-in of plot coupons for the final boss showdown. Ah but, Joanne, was the extended dénouement Epilogue at all necessary?

Following photo contains spoilers:
Harry and Snape gaze into each others' eyes. Snape holds Harry and pulls him close.

"Look...at....me..." he whispers.

The green eyes find the black. Snape glows a pale fluorescent green at Harry...

Alright. Not totally.

Meanwhile, some fan's apparently typed out the whole book and pdf-ed it. Why in the name of Merlin's saggy left... But typos abound like a gnome infestation in the garden. A weighty tome of sustainable paper in hand might be fairer and better (for eyesight, probably not for trees).

PS: Magic in the Wizarding World, analogous to science in our Muggle world, has its limitations: it does not give the solution to every problem; vast and deep knowledge of it does not endow its holder with power and control over every aspect of life (and death).

PPS: Undergirding love motif and love motive in Harry Potter:

• One of the limits of magic in the Wizarding World is that it cannot create love. Well, not true love anyway. Slughorn discussing the properties of Amortentia in Half-blood Prince:"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room - oh yes. When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."
• True love, which Voldemort dismissed as old magic and weakness, proved ultimately to be more powerful than the most powerful magic. It was Lily's love for Harry that caused her to shield him from the killing curse. It was Severus Snape's lasting love for Lily Evans that led him to betray Voldemort. It was Harry's love for his friends that brought him before Voldemort to be killed without any attempt at self-defence. It was Narcissa's love for Draco that made her lie about Harry's death.
  
  At the final battle, Harry tried to explain all this to Voldy:
  

  "You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people -"
  
  "But you did not!"
  
  " - I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

• Plus, love motive in Wizarding World = not direct Christian allegory or symbolism but deliberate simulacrum? (The afterdeath chat between Harry and Dumbledore was, afterall, at *King's Cross*, whatwhat.) Only in reality, the sacrificial love unto death was not to save us from Eternal Evil (for Evil never quite had the upper hand) but from Eternal Condemnation to Death Wrought By Our Own Hands.

PPPS: Recurring death leitmotif:

• One of the other limits of magic in the Wizarding World is that it cannot resurrect the dead. The Inferi are just dead bodies. The Resurrection Stone (one of the Hallows in Deathly Hallows) can recall some semblence of the dead but once recalled they are separated from the living as by a veil, and returned to the mortal world where they do not truly belong, the dead suffer. Magical objects like the Philosopher's Stone and unicorn's blood (drinking it with the terrible price of being cursed forever) can be used to assist living and prolong life, but that is in the absence of accidentally wandering into the path of a stray Avada Kedavra. Death still conquers in the end.
  
• Knowing, perhaps, the limitations of magic, Voldemort feared death, specifically (seeing the bloodbath of Book 7) his own death. In Order of the Phoenix, the madeover Tom Riddle snarled,"There is nothing worse than death!". He went to great lengths to avoid it, what with soul-splitting and horcruxes and suchlike. To die was weak. The constant threat of his own death put a bit of a dampener on his ambition to universal and eternal power as Da Dark Lord. In one polite little exchange, Dumbledore corrects his former student: "...your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness".
• Dumbledore too, in his younger days, wanted to master death for invincibility, for personal glory and triumph. Hence the search for the three Hallows. Later, though, it is clear he repented of this view, explaining to Harry in Philosopher's Stone that Nicholas Flamel destroying the Philosopher's Stone was no problemo; "After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure".
• Harry, as expected, was the true master of death: not that he could not die, but that "...the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying".
  
• And remember the gravestone of James and Lily Potter at Godric's Hollow:
  

  "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death"
  
  A horrible thought came to him, and with it a kind of panic. "Isn't that a death eater idea? Why is that there?"
  
  "It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry,"said Hermione, her voice gentle. "It means...you know... living beyond death. Living after death."

  Totally, word-for-word, 1 Corinthians 15:26 (KJV Bible).
  
  Death is not something to be feared, not because as mature adults, we accept death as a fact of life and do not seek to run away from it with pills and health regimes.
  
  We do not fear death because there is life after death. If, as Dumbledore says in Half-Blood Prince that "it is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more", then the antidote to mad fear is certainty about the afterlife. Not an afterlife of our own imagination of course, sometimes of the variety featuring fluffy white clouds, angels with harps and ("choose only Menu A or Menu B") Menu A: an everlasting chocolate fountain buffet where no buffeteer ever gets fat, Menu B: 7,000 virgins.
  
  For, if the afterlife is only of our own imagination, and if, infact, death is really The End, then Christians and their silly faith and hopes are to be pitied more than all others.
  
  How can we be certain about the afterlife? The usual way: on good solid evidence; the testimony of one of trustworthy character, who died and was raised again from the dead, who by his death conquered Death.
  
  So there will be a Last Day when all the dead will be resurrected. But not all afterlife will be equal: those who'd, in their earlier life, repented of their rebellion against God and trusted in Christ's death to save them will indeed see salvation from the wrath of God and will rise to new life. Those who didn't bother getting Christ's blood as a Protective Shield will rise to be condemned and bear the full brunt of God's terrible judgement themselves.
  
  Always good to plan ahead.

"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:55-57)

***
For everyone who keeps asking who died in Deathly Hallows:

• Charity Barbage, the Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, was killed by Voldemort at the Malfroy's mansion and fed to Nagini;
  
• Hewig died when Harry was attacked by Death Eaters while leaving the Dursleys;
• Mad-Eye Moody was killed by Voldemort while acting as a decoy for Harry. His body was never recovered though, grossly, his magical eye was found tacked to Umbridge's door, suggesting that the Ministry found his body;
• Rufus Scrimgeour during the takeover of the Ministry of Magic by Death Eaters;
  
• Bathilda Bagshot, a minor character, the author of the Hogwarts textbook A History of Magic and an old family friend of the Dumbledores, was killed off-set and was impersonated by Voldemort's snake, Nagini, the better to draw Harry and Hermione into a trap;
• Peter Pettigrew, aka Wormtongue, aka the secret-keeper who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort, was strangled by his own silver Hand of Glory when he hesitated in killing Harry;
• Dobby caught Bellatrix's knife in his chest while disapparating with Harry, Hermione, Ron and Griphook from Malfroy's mansion;
• a Gringotts goblin (possibly Griphook?) for not preventing the break-in to the Lestranges' vault and allowing Potter etc to run off with Helga Hufflepuff's cup;
• Severus Snape is killed by Nagini on Voldemort's order because Voldemort mistakenly thinks Snape is the master of the Elder Wand;
  
• Vincent Crabbe accidentally burns himself to death with Fiendfyre;
  
• Remus Lupin and his wife Nymphadora Tonks at the Battle of Hogwarts;
• Fred Weasley at the Battle of Hogwarts;
  
• Colin Creevey at the Battle of Hogwarts;
  
• Bellatrix Lestrange at the Battle of Hogwarts by Molly Weasley(!); and
  
• lastly, Voldemort, aka Tom Riddle, aka The Dark Lord, aka He Who Must Not Be Named, by his own backfiring Avada Kedavra. It's a long story.
  
• (I suppose a whole lot of Death Eaters die too but no one seems to be keeping count.)
  

***
Harry Potter, the Deathly Hallows and the Internet Chatter Juggernaut (Or Something)
Some Christians Read Harry Potter

Harry Potter, the Deathly Hallows and the Internet Chatter Juggernaut (Or Something)

Another boring random-thought-filled excitable fan post on The Boy Who Lived.

Last week, I was trying to tell someone my exciting horcrux theories, and she sighed and said, You know, I don't think I will ever understand you. And ran away.

Then last Sunday, I was trying to tell someone else after service how I thought Harry might die, and he said, Oh. So you're one of those...

Ah, sightless muggles.

Anyway, the last few nights have been all:
Accio Harry Potter books!
Accio cereal!
Accio cold cold milk!
Accio Slughorn's tufted satin pillow and box of bonbons Oh. Wrong reality.

In the lead-up to Book 7: Deathly Hallows, for, maybe, the last 10 years, J.K. Rowling has been giving all sorts of clues how The Book That Need Not Be Further Named will end:

• The last word of the book is still "scar".
  
• Harry will return to the Dursley's one last time.
  
• Harry will go to Godric's Hollow.
  
• Hermione and Ron will join him on his journey to Godric's Hollow.
  
• The trio will attend Bill and Fleur's wedding.
  
• Harry may not return to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year.
  
• We will finally learn the true identity of R.A.B. after much speculation.
  
• The Founders will play a role.
  
• We will, at long last, learn where Snape's loyalty truly lies.
• We learn something very important about Lily, Harry's mother.
  
• We will find out why Voldemort gave Lily so many chances to live.
  
• The fact that Harry has his mother's eyes is important.
• What the Potters did for a living is important.
  
• One of Harry's classmates will become a teacher at Hogwarts.
  
• Dumbledore's gleam of triumph in his eyes when he learns that Voldemort used Harry's blood to regenerate himself is significant.
  
• We will learn a lot more about Dumbledore: secrets about his family, why he didn't kill Voldemort in the battle at the Ministry and perhaps even how he got that curious scar above his knee.
  
• It is unclear whether Hogwarts will reopen for Harry's seventh year.
  
• The magical protection that Harry is under while staying at the Dursley's will cease once he turns 17 and is an of age wizard.
  
• We will become better acquainted with another member of the Order; someone we know but haven't really met yet.
  
• We will learn secrets about the family of Peter Pettigrew.
  
• We will learn more about the relationships between wands and their witches/wizards.
  
• There will be no Quidditch.
  
• There's more to Petunia than meets the eye.
  
• One character gets a reprieve and two main characters die that weren't intended to die.
  
• A character who hasn't done magic previously will do magic late in life.
  
• We will learn what Dudley saw/heard when facing the dementors.
  
• We will learn what happened to Sirius' flying motorbike.
  
• We will learn more about the history of James Potter's family.
  
• Fawkes may reappear.
  
• Kreacher has a role to play.
  
• Peter Pettigrew will not kill Lupin using his silver hand.

(Props to the curators at Leaky Lounge.)

• "The mirror that Harry got from Sirius might not have helped as much as you think but, on the other hand, will help more than you think."
  
• "...none of this should be taken to mean that Neville does not have a significant part to play in the last two novels, or the fight against Voldemort."
  
• "...the prophecy itself, it remains ambiguous, not only to readers, but to my characters"
  
• The fact that Harry "has his mother's eyes" will be important to the plot. (Wasn't there a song...oh, no, that was Bette Davis.)
  

(Props to Daily Press.)

• James Potter's Cloak was indeed in the care of Albus Dumbledore at the time James died and that there is an important reason for this. (Props to BookStove.)
  
• No one who has died will return.
• Dumbledore IS really dead. "Everyone needs to move through the five stages of grief" and get past his death. She also apologizes to DumbledoreIsNotDead.com for ruining the purpose of their site. (From muggle.net)
  
• ''Yes, I am [a Christian]. Which seems to offend the religious right far worse than if I said I thought there was no God. Every time I've been asked if I believe in God, I've said yes, because I do, but no one ever really has gone any more deeply into it than that, and I have to say that does suit me, because if I talk too freely about that I think the intelligent reader, whether 10 or 60, will be able to guess what's coming in the books." (Interview with The Vancouver Sun.)
  
• The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis and The Lord of the Rings cycle by J.R.R. Tolkien have greatly influenced Rowling so perhaps the ending will be bittersweet.
• Helena Bonham Carter, who did a foul job as Bellatrix Lestrange in the movie of Order of the Phoenix, was told by Rowling that she'd have a large part in Deathly Hallows. (Props to Moldova.)
  

So half-baked ideas have been fizzy whizzbuzzing round our skulls, released only to be batted about the room like, erm, bludgers at another team's seekers:

• Snape is a double-agent on Dumbledore's side.
  
• Snape's killing of Dumbledore was planned in advance by Dumbledore.
  
• The Snape who killed Dumbledore was not really Snape but someone Polyjuiced-up as Snape.
• The Dumbledore who died was not really Dumbledore but someone Polyjuiced-up as Dumbledore.
• Dumbledore is an animagus (he was a Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts half a century ago) who takes the form of a phoenix and therefore, although he really died, he will rise again from the ashes, hence the strange phoenix patronus-like thing at his funeral.
  
• The Dumbledore all this while was not really Dumbledore. How, for instance, did he know how James and Lily die? Was he at the scene?
• Dumbledore borrowed the Invisibility Cloak for someone else who witnessed something important.
• Dumbledore is not purely good but also evil. Snape is not purely evil but also good. Gary Oldman Sirius Black says in the movie of Order of the Phoenix: We all have both light and dark inside us. The part we choose to act on… that’s who we really are. (Not very Christian the movie bit. Christian would be more like "there is no one good, not even one" (Psalm 14).)
  
• Harry will find the other horcruxes by using the Mirror of Erised.
• Remembering to use the Time Turner would be pretty helpful too.
  
• Wormtail will fulfil his life debt to Harry by cracking under the pure evilness of Voldemort and snitching on him to Harry or doing the dark and nasty deed himself (a la Wormtongue (oh! similar name!) and Saruman in Lord of the Rings).
  
• Harry is a horcrux evidenced by some sort of mind-bind with Voldy.
  
• Harry dies but is not a horcrux.
  
• Harry dies but is the last horcrux and by killing Harry, Voldy renders himself mortal.
• Harry is the last horcrux, he dies to save Aunt Petunia and by so doing, deflects the killing curse back onto Voldy, killing him in the process.
  
• Harry's scar is the horcrux (aiding long-distance legilimency and throbbing to the beat of Voldy's emotions) and when he dies, Voldy takes over Harry's body (erm, but it's a dead body...).
  
• Voldy and Harry's wands share the same magical core taken from the same animal. Since brother wands cannot fight each other, one of the wands will eventually force the other into a priori incantatem, perhaps reversing Voldy's spells.
  
• Neville kills Voldy accidentally.
  
• The Invisibility Cloak is a horcrux.
  
• Voldy's wand is a horcrux.
• What Voldy most fears is death. What's worse than death for him is being shuttled off to a retirement home, a broken man awaiting death. LOL.
  
• Harry lives and ends up with Luna Lovegood because love is big in Rowling's world and Luna, well, it's...the name, innit.
• Harry lives and ends up with Ginny and is BFF with Hermione.
  

The buzzing and permutations and combinations are so that in the late hours, while structuring complex deals at work, I have been known to say:"Yeah, well, even Gringotts isn't safe these days."

But there is no need to add to the plethora of media specials (Washington Post, Time), tantalising photos of sealed boxes of the books, and theories (see, eg, the forums at Mugglenet and The Leaky Cauldron) out there.

Ok, sugar-high bounce: I was telling another someone this week about how Rowling majors on details - a glimmer of the eye here, a seemingly inconsequential word there, and how if I was the one designing the Lego Harry Potter collection etc etc, and she said, Hey! Doesn't your church tell you not to read books on witchcraft?

Don't be stupefied that Christians read Harry Potter. On the other hand, while the books might possibly be rich in Christian symbolism (John Granger over at Hogwarts Professor revels in their speculated embarrassment of riches), there is no need, like many have done with Lord of the Rings, to attempt to squeeze them into the genre of Christian allegory. Because, c'mon, obviously Dumbledore isn't Jesus. That would be way too cheesy B-grade morality trash novel.

It is unlikely that anyone (Christian and non-Christian) reads Harry Potter for its glittering literary qualities. But Rowling's writing, her "pedestrian descriptive prose", no better than Enid Blyton, cannot be begrudged if it gets to ADHD 7-year-olds fuelled by Trix and Irn Bru.

The thing that intrigues me though is, excepting bacchanalian-orgy-type mass media hype, the draw of the books on readers of a vast range of ages. What do people see lacking in their real lives that they can embrace in this alternate world?

Is it merely for the narrative, the storyline, the plot development, so that spoilers like someone's cheeky photos of the embargoed book and pretended-spoilers (really fan fiction smelling like Grawp's armpit) need to be evanesco-ed before they ruin the entire Harry Potter Experience™? Will it be necessary to langlock everyone who's gotten their sticky paws on The Book That Need Not Be Further Named in the early hours of 21 July so no one will yell out the ending across Orchard Road just as you're heading home to savour the book?

Unlikely, since people who have read the books and know the ending to each book still read them repeatedly;. like how people read other stories, watch the same plays and listen to the same music over and over again. It is certainly not for the thrill of discovering the conclusion anew. Perhaps, then, it's the alternate universe, little world-through-the-cupboard, escapist vicarious-living stuff, kicking in.

Interestingly, it seems that no one in the last 2000 years or so has thought to accuse poor old John of ruining their eschatological experience with spoilers in the last few chapters of the Book of Revelation. Perhaps for those touting spoiler psychology, it's nice to be kept in suspense about the fate of fictional characters but with their own lives, it's nice to know what will happen, so they do not despair and so there is meaning to their current existence.

As J.R.R. Tolkien is known to have said:

All the other myths of the world are a mixture of truth and error - truth because they are written by those made by and for God - error because written by those alienated by God. But the Bible is the one true myth. It is a true accounting of truth, while everything else we do is mimicking.

PS: It would be cool if Deathly Hallows could be delivered by owl post at, oh, 12.02am on 21 July. But looks like we'll have to make do with queueing outside Borders in fancy dress. Harry Potter Party!
PPS: It would be even cooler if someone could buttonhole The Cure after their 1 August concert in Singapore (the buttonhole being figurative of course) and trade huge cans of hairspray for a song on Harry Potter. Or maybe even Voldy. Something like Spiderman in Lullaby Lovecats or Just Like Heaven would do nicely.
PPPS: The Mary GrandPré covers for the American Scholastic Deluxe Hardcovers are ace. She should do the albumwork for The Cure's song on Harry Potter, if that ever happens.

Update (19 July 2007): The New York Times has cheekily published a review of Deathly Hallows which they proudly describe as "purchased at a New York City retail outlet today (18 July 2007), although the book is embargoed for release until 12:01 a.m. this Saturday". LOL! New Yorkers!

***
Post-Deathly Hallows thoughts, a list of who dies, stuff on Christian symbolism and allegory: Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, Magic, Love and Death
Some Christians Read Harry Potter

Monocle Magazine And The Best Cities To Live In

Travel deadtime is for junk-fooding on magazines: Time, GQ, Esquire, Foreign Affairs, Economist, Monocle...

So I was telling someone about Monocle: several months old, founded by Tyler Wallpaper* Brûlé, "original coverage in global affairs, business, culture and design", cross-processed photos, monochrome prints, graphic design, product design, urban design, some parts glossy, some parts good rough paper...

At one point I said, When I grow up, perhaps I will write for Monocle. But only if they ask nicely.

Well, stuff Monocle, he said transcontinentally, when you come over, we can use the private jet. And all the splendour of Europe (and the east coast of America) will be but an inflight movie away.

What are you, I laughed, a dinosaur from the power-suited conspicuous-consumptive 80s?

Monocle, he continued sniffily, is for people who can't get any. Porn for plebs who can only stare longingly through shopwindows at the goodies inside. Come inside the shop. Smell and taste. Live the life. No friend of mine is going to stand outside whining like some miserable mongrel.

Transcontinental obnoxiousness aside, Monocle does actually remind me of Playboy. (The Playboy story is that thanks to my housemate in uni who, when he wasn't condemning me to hell for not being Christian, was giving me Playboy for Christmas.) Playboy isn't just any old lurid topshelf girlie. Hugh Hefner was selling the Playboy lifestyle very much like Tyler is selling the Monocle lifestyle: a intelligent, finely-written magazine for the well-heeled, informing the already well-informed about wine, politics, cigars, cars and air-brushed ladies (ok, none of that last bit in Monocle. Tyler's sexual preference means there're gratuitous photos of well-built boys in swim trunks). Oh wait. That's, like, all the men's glossies nowadays. It was the bunny, Hugh, that did you in.

And Playboy digressions aside, it is significant that the July/August 2007 issue of Monocle is all about "the best places to call home". It is even more significant that one of those places is actually home, Singapore. No, really. There it is, clear as day, in slot 17 of the Top 20 Liveable Cities. All together now: dun pray pray ah. Criteria for choices here.

While, maybe, 100% of complainy Singapore-residents are still wah lau-ing the notion over kopi and teh (and 95% of them are really working out how this new information translates into winning 4D numbers), Monocle goes on to interview a bunch of people about the characteristics of a perfect city:
Imperfect cities, says Bernard Khoury the architect from Beirut, that have contradictions and a dynamic nature keep me interested.

Cleanliness and safety, says John So the Lord Mayor of Melbourne.

A city like Dicken's London, "that marvellous labyrinth of dark alleys, secrets, surprises, extreme economic inequalities, coincidences, possibilities, where every kind of human imperfection and eccentricity finds it niche...it's in gross imperfection that perfection lies", says Jonathan Raban.

Harmony between individuals and their lifestyle, says Edward Tuttle the architect and designer from Paris.

A city with chaos, noise, its own distinctive smell, says Teresa Sapey the architect from Madrid.

...

Convenience, safety, peace, diversity, music, art, design, technology, parks, green spaces, efficient transportation, yummy food, good coffee, sprawling bookstores, funky music shops, spiffy urban planning, space for organic urban growth, countryside within easy reach, energised creative residents, clean government, healthy employment rate, competent medical care: all good to have. But an ideal city, in this passing-away world, must allow us to offer free citizenship in the Best-Ever-City-To-Come without fetter or harrassment.

And of that Best-Ever-City-To-Come, what is there to say? Who can tell us? What words can describe it?

(Postscript: So I was telling someone about Time magazine's summer special on food: how food does more to unite the nations than the United Nations, the pictorial contrast of different folks with their week's supply of nosh, how Nestlé caters to local taste so that there are 200 different types of Nescafé and so their French vanilla ice-cream is yellow and tastes like a frozen crème anglaise while their German vanilla ice-cream is much whiter and more buttery, and about Mark Brownstein - Food Hunter; scouring the world for exotic ingredients and matchmaking them with daring chefs for mind-blowing culinary experiments (or not).

And at one point I said, When I grow up...

And I heard eyes rolling in their sockets, transcontinentally.)

(Post-postscript: The first flyer shoved into my hand upon return to Singapore was for Tan Pin Pin's Invisible City.

Urban introspection is in.)

More Birthday Stuff, Lord Of The Rings, Psalms And Songs for Sleepy Sunny Sunday Picnics

It has come to be that, more than a month after this year's birthday, the celebrations show every sign of stretching their sparkly festive fingers to Christmas (this year). Birthdays in themselves seem nothing little more than annual milestones towards death, but they're always good excuses to party and parties are always good for fellowship, friendship and reunion allsorts.

Anyway, breathers between the festivities are for light fare and, from a dip in the tub of unopened presents, J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings in shiny gold clothes.

A few nights ago, I was torn between summons to a council of card gamers and rescuing the fair folk of the Company from frozen-framed eternity: poor Gandalf and Pippin mid-gallop towards Minas Tirith, and Frodo and Sam mid-trudge to Mordor, with Gollum not far behind.

Card gaming was a good choice: homemade ice-cream, a sheriff suicidally killing off her deputies, endless laughing at "can you turn on your rubber duckies so I can play with them?" asked seriously and politely, then, while shuffling for Saboteur, real life intervening with an unexpected call, an emergency pray-together demonstrating of the reality of dependence on God and tangible fellowship.

Games and real life. Myth and truth.

Tolkien was of the view that all myths of the world are a mixture of truth and error - truth because they are written by those made by and for God and error because they were written by those alienated from God. But there is one true myth, a true accounting of truth: the Bible.

Even if LOTR isn't Christian allegory, the song bits appear faint echoes of the Book of Psalms: the beauty of the descriptive poetry, then the frustration of having to guess at the music that might have accompanied the verses, as trying to see through a brick wall. Oh, the psalmist tries to help of course: "to the tune of The Death of the Son" he says of Psalm 9, "to the tune of The Doe of the Morning" for Psalm 22, "to the tune of Lilies" for Psalm 45 etc. But the Top 40 hits of the ancient Hebrews have been lost in the intervening millennia.

Still, melodies misplaced don't taint the meat of the Psalms. And very tasty meat it is too.

Mike Reeves hosts an express gravy train through the stuff for a sampler: Understanding The Psalms.

The Psalms, misused, are unfortunately brilliant for insipid navel-gazing. It is often said how much they reflect a good range of human emotions, a well-stocked aural Hallmark shop (maybe someecards might work better?). But if we think that is all the Psalms are about, we're really missing out on the big show.

The Books of Psalms are not goody bags of Bible sweeties. We don't just open up the Psalms when we're feeling a bit nibbly and grab one to enjoy on its own. They are not just King David's songs on random shuffle, but more like Handel's Messiah: the story of Jesus put together intelligently and set to music, different pieces of text and music working together to tell a story.

Just as Moses gave Israel the 5 Books of the Law, so David gave Israel the 5 Books of the Psalms, as if they were a commentary on Moses' 5 Books of the Law.

The root word in Hebrew for "psalms" can either mean "to praise" or "to be foolish". So the Psalms, like the other wisdom books, are about wisdom and folly. These are the options set before us: to praise the LORD or to be a fool, the fool being the idiot who says in his heart,"There is no God". The judgement on them is that they are corrupt, their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good (Psalm 14:1).

If the 5 Books of the Law correspond to the 5 Books of the Psalms, Book 1 of the Psalms, comprising Psalms 1 - 41, corresponds to the Book of Genesis. Psalms 1 - 4 end with the evening and in Psalm 5, it is morning again, recalling the day-night-day cycle of Genesis 1. Psalm 8 too sounds like in Eden at the end of Genesis 1.

But the Psalms not only commentate on the Books of the Law but also prophesy the future: what God has willed to happen, what Jesus is going to do. Psalm 16 for example, as is explained in Acts 2, is not about King David, but a direct prophesy about Christ. And Jesus quotes Psalm 22 on the cross,"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?". The fulfilment of Psalm 22:18, the dividing of clothing and the casting of lots for them, is described in the Gospel narratives. What happens after his death? Psalm 23 speaks of the LORD, the shepherd, who comforts the one who goes through valley of death and finally returns to the house of the LORD forever. Psalm 24 speaks of one ascending the hill of the LORD. Who is the one ascending? The LORD himself. Trinitarian tidbits.

On the cross, Jesus quotes Psalm 22:1 and Psalm 31:5. He was very probably using these 2 verses as bookends, to make his hearers think of everything between those 2 verses. He was declaring what would happen in the future even while he hung on the cross. Psalm 22:1, he is in pain but Psalm 22:23, 27 there is great praise of God. Even while he is on the cross, Jesus was saying that he would be triumphant. He wanted us to see that he knew what will happen: he knew that was not the end. His calling on the Lord was justified.

Book 2 consists of Psalm 42 - 72, dealing with liberation and escaping from slavery, very much like the Book of Exodus.

We see in this book many songs of the sons of Korah. Korah's claim to fame is a whole chapter of his misdeeds in Numbers 16 where he rebelled against God and was neatly, together with all his people and household and goods, swallowed up by the earth. But we know from Numbers 26 that the line of Korah did not die out. The sons of Korah, who should have been in the grave with their father, still lived. They are, to us, a picture of a redeemed people who do not deserve life but yet, by the grace and mercy of God, have life. From the Psalms, we see that the sons of Korah were always surrounded by trouble, but still they get really joyful. The climax, it seems, is in Psalm 49: why should I fear in times of trouble? For God will ransom my soul from the power of the grave (Psalm 49:15).

Book 2 ends with Psalm 72, a great psalm all about the remnant people and the coming of the king.

Book 3 consists of Psalms 73 - 89 and corresponds with the Book of Leviticus. These psalms were written by Levites and mostly concern priestly issues: the temple and sacrifices. Asaph's name pops up quite a bit in this book (see, eg. Psalm 74). The chap was Levite from the Korah-ite clan and a director of the singers who served in the house of the LORD. He is also described as a prophet in 2 Chronicles 29:30, because the Psalms are not just praise but also prophesy. The last Psalm in this book, Psalm 89, ends with the death of God's own chosen one (Psalm 89:45). All the levitical stuff and sacrificial stuff leads up to this: the death of messiah.

Book 4 (Psalms 90 - 106) corresponds with the Book of Numbers. Loads of desert scenery here. Psalm 90 is a prayer request of Moses. Psalm 91 is what Satan quotes to Jesus where? In the wilderness, the desert. But while Israel was faithless in the wilderness, Jesus the true king was faithful in desert; he doesn't trust Satan in the least. Psalm 106 is basically the story of the Exodus. It ends in great prayer: save us. O LORD our God and gather us from the nations that we may give thanks to your holy name.

Lastly, Book 5 (Psalms 107 - 150) corresponds with the Book of Deuteronomy. It is all about living by God's word. Deuteronomy opens with the Israelites about to enter God's land, so in parallel, Psalm 107 gives thanks that the people of God have been gathered (107:3). The prayer of Psalm 106 has been answered.

Psalm 120:5 is a tale of woe: a man in distress, living in exile not in Israel. This is rubbish, he says, I want to be in Israel. no more pagan land for me. Let's go to Jerusalem. And he starts travelling knowing that the Lord will protect him on his journey (Psalm 121). In Psalm 122:2, we see that he's gotten to Jerusalem from exile and proceeds to praise the wonder of Jerusalem rapturously. He now lifts his eyes to the holy place and starts thinking about building temple of the Lord (Psalm 132). And what more, the Messiah himself is going to go and join them in Jerusalem. Extremely cool. And Jerusalem will be their resting place forever.

It's really nice to get to the end of LOTR when the Ring is destroyed and there is peace for all peoples (and also in-jokes about Sharkey's End). It is similarly nice to wait with bated breath for the last instalment of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series coming to good bookstores near us from 12.01am on 21st July 2007, which most are sure will end with the defeat of Voldemort, the epitome of evil, and peace for all the wizarding world. For us non-literary-critic plebs who do not begrudge their popularity, these books, while they last, let us walk in other worlds and enjoy the ultimate triumph of good over evil. But when the final page has been turned and the final word has been read, and there is a sigh of satisfaction and a goodly stretch, the book is closed, goes back onto the shelf, and we go back to real life.

Keeping it real is so much more totally awesome. But in reality, we are not, neither by default nor nonchalant effort as we like to assume, on the side of the good and ultimately victorious. And if reality is about the ultimate triumph of the good God and God's people and about the destruction of evil, of those who do not acknowledge the lordship of God and do not repent of their rebellion against him, then happy endings will come only to those who choose to be wise, who choose to rely on Jesus for their salvation, who choose to be blessed:

Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
for the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish. (Psalm 1)

If we acknowledge God as our master and trust only in Christ's blood to save us, there will be no more despairing winter, only the joy of a spring and summer to come far more marvellous than the marvellous summer of the Shire with its wonderful sunshine and delicious rain and air of richness and growth, far more yearned for than white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise. There, we shall see our Master face-to-face and dwell in his house forever.

(For now, only a pale shadow of that great summer holiday: merely the Sunday sun. Blue sky. Butterflies. Green lawn. Shady trees. Picnic basket. Red checked mat. Cold lemonade. Sandwiches. Crisps. Lemon meringue pie. Sweet cherries. Noshing, reading, sleeping. Dreaming together. Rockin' bop-abouts for the drive home.

Harry Nilsson, She Sang Hymns Out of Tune
Marbles, I Love The Summer Days
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, The Gold Finch and The Red Oak Tree
Yoko Kanno, Dreams In A Pie
4 bonjour's parties, Satellite
Cibelle, Green Grass
Angel Tech, Slow Toy Piano
The Veils, Under The Folding Branches
The Red River, The Birds And The Boats (Hitchcock's birds?)
Julian Carax - Under The Sun (Frenchie under ze sun.)
Toy, Rabbit Pushing Mower (Too much sun means monsieur sees bunnies doing the gardening.)
Belle & Sebestian, I Know Where The Summer Goes (Cos all that sugar will give you diabetes.)
Feeder, Seven Days In The Sun (Rockit home!)
The Positions, Summer Nights (Summer in Singapore? Whatever. Clap and duetit!)

Jack Johnson? He's not here. He's out surfing, getting angsty and drinking coconut juice.

Nice but only a pale shadow.)

Rani Singam and the Half Past Late Organ Trio

Bar Stop on Tuesdays. Schnapps, margaritas, beers on tap, 30-year whiskeys. A jazz chanteuse sings into a night of lacquered black and burnished gold. Her voice is tawny port. It is good to sip it, to let out the held breath of constant travel and savour thoughts of a week of consecutive days in the same bed, of fully unpacking the luggage, of purchasing perishables from the grocers, of making appointments without caveats, to bask in the glow of friendship.

There are friends air-kissing, friends back-slapping, friends swapping tips and updates, friends swooning at the front table, friends matchmaking, friends not sneaking out the backdoor, friends pressed into singing two songs in the second set, friends yelling yeh! yeh!, friends leaning on each other, friends with permed hair, friends laughing at friends with permed hair.

Scatting and cajoling, bantering and ribbing, sweating and bopping, fuelled by Smart Alex the barman, Rani Singam and the Half Past Late Organ Trio swing the final set to a heppin' hot end: Chok Kerong on organ, Andrew Lim on guitar and Darren Moore on drums, everybody! Thank you and good night!

Why, asks Kerong wandering up to our table, coiling the wires to his little red organ round his elbow and back up to his hand, are you guys still here?

More chatter and the dredging of glasses.

Outside, the midnight air is cool and sweet for a walk with friends.

Bar Stop
6 Devonshire Road
Singapore 239844
Tel: +65 6735 6614