Nation of Britneys and Whacko Jackos

Very disjointed and draggy post up ahead. Just feel that I have to get my thoughts down before I forget.

Had RT today so had to drag my ass down to Clementi.

Was a little early so I went Clementi Central to walk around first, kill a bit of time. My earphones stuffed in my ear and the iPod on shuffle as usual.

When agar² the time to go to Maju, I had to cross the overhead bridge to get to the bus stop, which also meant I had to pass by Clementi MRT station.

A smattering of people were stationary in the MRT station, which irritated me. Why some people just insist on standing someplace that is right smack in the path of human traffic is beyond me.

Then I noticed that most of the stationary people were looking in one direction, which was also the direction I was heading.

I slowed my pace down and looked around.

Nothing amiss.

So I wended my way past the crowd and headed down the stairs.

Once I hit the bottom of the stairs, the reason for the congestion upstairs became apparent.

An Old, Pudgy Uncle(OPU) in blue started screaming vulgarities and whatnot in hokkien. Actually he wasn't that old, about late fifties, I would guess. But for simplicity's sake I'll call him OPU.

I didn't do nothing, so I just turned and walked towards the bus stop.

OPU started getting louder, and said something like(according to my rusty hokkien) "Don't run away! Come back!" He also peppered his speech with: "NBCB! PCB! KNNB!(This part I understood perfectly, from my days in the Armed Forces)"

He started waddling after me too.

I tensed up. What the heck did I do to offend him?

But I continued walking nonchalantly to the bus stop.

OPU continued his tirade. A quick glance on my part confirmed that he was still moving in my direction.

No matter. If it's a fight he wants, it's a fight he's gonna get.

Upon reaching the bus stop, I stopped and turned to face him. Fists bunched up, deathly glare on, ready for a fight.

OPU shuffled past me, still yammering away at no one in particular.

I started giggling, I don't know what at. Maybe it's the decrease in the level of adrenaline in my body. Maybe it's at OPU, with his inane haranguing of everybody and nobody. Maybe it's the reactions he was eliciting from the less daring of the commuters, whom scurried away as he approached.

I was throughly amused.

The outbursts weren't constant. OPU would spout a couple sentences of nonsense mishmashed with vulgarities, be quiet for a minute or so, then boom, a fresh rant would emerge from his mouth, fast and furious.

But OPU took the first bus that arrived. I wonder if it was really his bus, or if he just took any bus, like some crackpots I've seen.

I was deprived of my entertainment, so I turned my attention to whatever my iPod was playing.

Everytime, by Britney Spears.

It's my favourite song by her. Not all of her songs are good, but I liked this one a lot.

I first heard it in the cookhouse on Tekong, and though the lyrics are pretty depressing, at the time it reminded me of home, and I've liked it ever since.

Anyway, I digress.

I started reflecting on Britney, on her life now, her supposed eccentricity.

I pitied her.

She was like, the biggest thing in, what, '97? '98?

Doesn't matter anyway.

Look at her now.

Bizarre antics enough to last 3 generations.

She's been a puppet.

She's been told to do everything since God knows when.

Managers, agents, record execs. They've been piling her with schedules and contracts and expectations, to milk this cash cow for all she has. Everything's planned out.

6 a.m. : Wake up
630 a.m. : Make up in car, traveling to the Airport
7a.m. : Take plane to Wallapatookunk, Kallamazoo
9a.m. : Arrive at Wallapatookunk, proceed to meet and greet session to promote new album
12p.m. : Back to airport, flight to New York to film new video for new single
3 p.m.: Blahblahblah

You get the idea.

Everything planned out for her, to maximize her time.

She doesn't have to think.

She hardly has any free time to do what she wants. A missed birthday party here, a gathering there.

Soon her life will only be The Schedule, and the only people she interacts with are those that run her life, who shield her from the world.

No wonder her sense of reality is warped.

But who cares, right? She's not important. Money is. Once she's been milked dry, they'll just abandon her and leech off their next victim.

The potshots from the tabloids haven't helped much either.

But Britney's human. She cracked.

And we see this sad shell of potential today. Of what could have been.

Same story with Michael Jackson I guess. He was really the King of Pop. There will never be anyone better. But look at the sad state he's in now. The cortege that surrounded him must have so shielded him from reality that he lost all bearing of what's right or wrong. Decisions made for him until he lost the ability to think for himself.

Fans of Frank Herbert will know his theory that what separates the humans from animals is the ability to think.

Anyway, my point is: Are we losing the ability to think for ourselves here?

A lot of decisions are being made for us, and we're merely being told that it's the right decision, and it's what for the best.

Is it really?

I suppose it doesn't matter much, because we don't get to decide anyway.

We just "bite the bullet" and "take the bitter pill" and carry on.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

How long before we turn into a nation of Britneys and Whacko Jackos?

posted by CompulsiveShopper @ 10:52 PM