Demolition man

Sly says hi. No: of course Mr. Stalone is not really here. But the only thing missing here in Singapore to complete the picture is in fact the Italian Stalion. We are that close to being extra's in Demoltion man or maybe some prequal that's due out this summer. (If you have not seen Demolition Man I strongly suggest you rent it, or better yet: buy it cheap cheap from the sleazy guy with the golden neckles down the street selling only 'real originals'. You'll probably have a good time and for lack of a better purpose, you will have an idea what this post is about and what we are up against here). Cause everything is so nice. So organized. And even though Big Brother must be watching this Brave New World (enough with the book quotes already): I don't care. It works, it's good, you're happy. The only thing that freaks me out is that everybody really does as they are told. Sure the fines are hefty and caning is not as nice as British pervs tell us it is. But there is not even the slightest bit of rebellion. Sure the teens listen to punk rock, but they do so wearing T-shirts saying 'I am entiteled to be grumpy' instead of 'Slipknot', 'Eat the rich' or 'Slaytanic $#@! slaughter and slutfest' or whatever is the flavour of the day. No grafitty, no stepping out of line, on the line or even towards the line. And like I said: it's nice. It works. I wonder for how long.