Jolin Tsai’s gay wedding video banned by MDA

From ‘Singapore bans Jolin Tsai’s MV’, 24 May 2015, article by Heidi Hsia, Yahoo News.

Taiwanese media reported that Jolin Tsai’s song and music video, “We’re All Different, Yet The Same”, has been banned in Singapore. According to Mingpao News, the Media Development Authority (MDA) has sent ban notices to television and radio stations in the country so as not to air the song or the music video.

It was reported that the song has been banned because of the lyrics that encourage the pursuit of equal rights of marriage for the LGBTI community, which conflicts with the laws in Singapore.

…The music video for “We’re All Different, Yet The Same” was inspired by the story of a lesbian couple who has been together for 30 years. It features a wedding scene between Jolin and featured Taiwanese actress Ruby Lin.

UPDATE 25 May 2015: MDA has clarified that the song is not ‘banned’ here, but rather ‘allowed with the requisite age rating and consumer advice’, yet it has also advised broadcasters not to play the track or the video on channels that are ‘freely assessed’ by younger viewers due to ‘mature content’. I wonder what it does mean, however, when an actual ban is in force. I suppose it means you can’t download it from the internet, order the album/single online, sing it as karaoke or do a cover of it and upload your version. Youtube doesn’t even seek an age verification from you before streaming it, though. And you can still listen to F-bomb loaded rap songs about random raping in Forever 21. ‘Allowed with age rating and advice’ begs the basic question of, well, allowed WHERE exactly.

Jolin’s video raises an interesting question about the gay stigma and the institution of marriage: If you do not have family or relatives to make a critical life-or-death medical directive on your behalf, can your partner do it instead? Also, it has two women kissing. Beautiful women kissing, may I add.

Alas, MDA doesn’t care about ethical debates and only axes stuff if it gets them hot under the collar and breaches their own guidelines. They somehow decided on the sly that a video depicting gay marriage is not quite the ‘right thing’ that our population should be viewing. The fact that it was not released as a media statement like how they shut down A-Mei’s Rainbow suggests that they had intended to contain their act of censorship before it turned viral, knowing full well that one, people won’t be too happy about it, and two, anything banned by MDA will be inevitably the most searched and shared item on Youtube and Google.

If it does eventually blow up, they’d be forced to issue a press release giving the same old same old, and by that time hordes of K-box enthusiasts would have already put Jolin’s song at the top of their weekend singalong playlist, crying at the end of it because it tells such a touching story about love in a short few minutes, and also in shame because Singapore’s probably the only country to ban it. And sneakily too.

As a media ‘development’ authority, however, they continue to severely underestimate how the ‘media’ works. Some years back, a couple of Mediacorp actresses sprung a kinky surprise on the broadcaster by kissing each other on the mouths during a live telecast of the Star Awards. The re-run was censored, but everyone who went nuts over the girl-on-girl action just wanted to replay the kiss in slow motion on Youtube. Who cares who got into Top 10 list of Most Popular Actresses? Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl’ was also reportedly banned from airwaves, but she JUST PERFORMED the damn song here earlier this month during her Prismatic tour.

In fact, some of the kisses that we DO allow in M18 movies are hotter and wetter than the chaste wedding peck between Ruby Lin and Jolin Tsai. Some movies that do not involve lesbian sex at all get severely restricted because they feature gay families doing stuff that normal families do. At least NLB got more proactive after the penguin debacle. MDA can’t make up its mind if lesbians french-kissing or a loving couple in matching wedding outfits is more objectionable.

MDA also doesn’t care that Singaporeans read widely enough to know that marriage equality is happening in developed countries all over the globe, that we don’t need a controversial touchy-feely video to tell us why it’s worth supporting, even if the government maintains its ‘conservative’ stance. Even the ST has no qualms about publishing an article about Ivan Heng being a happily, married man, notwithstanding that it was a gay marriage. Moral of that story? Find happiness, screw the haters. Apparently MDA thinks this message is as dangerous as someone teaching you how to rig a drone with explosives and fly it into a government building.

So there is a ‘light touch’ after all when it comes to banning LGBT anthems, so light in fact it hardly made a sound, like a tip-toeing ninja assassin in the night, but soon caught out like a cowardly rabbit in the headlights.

‘Bishan gay’ molesting boy in J8 toilet

From ‘Man gets 12 months for molesting boy in toilet at Bishan Junction 8, appealing’, 8 May 2015, article by Elena Chong, ST

A part-time tutor who sometimes refers to himself as “the Bishan gay” was sentenced to 12 months’ jail on Friday for molesting a 12-year-old boy in a mall toilet. Cheng Hoe Huat was found guilty after a two-day trial of touching the student’s private parts in the male toilet of Bishan Junction 8 shopping centre on Nov 13, 2013.

The 52-year-old, who was unrepresented, is appealing. Bail of $30,000 was allowed. During the trial, the prosecution called 13 witnesses, including the victim, his four friends, a child psychologist and teacher.

Cheng had approached a group of boys, including the victim, to “conduct a survey on sex education“. The victim accompanied him to the toilet as he thought Cheng, who was using a walking stick, needed help.

…The maximum penalty for molesting any person under 14 years old is five years’ jail, fine and caning.

Daniel Cheng, or known to wary schoolboys as ‘the creepy Bishan uncle’ or ‘Bishan gay’, was actually interviewed by the ST in 2008, when he was found snapping photos and stealing looks at boys in fast food joints and flashing them his ‘signature smile’. He claimed that RI was his ‘alma mater’ then, and his activities were out of ‘love’ for his Bishan hometown and that he felt ‘responsible’ for the well-being of the kids.

Then regarded as nothing more than a middle-aged, otherwise harmless weirdo and something of an ‘urban legend’ in the area,  the RI deputy headmaster called for students to refrain from ‘calling him names‘, so it’s unlikely that Cheng would “refer to himself as ‘The Bishan Gay'” as the ST reported. It’s like admitting to the police that you’re the Serangoon Slasher or the Punggol Peeping Tom.

For years Cheng has been ridiculed and villainised on social media as a potential sex fiend, like a resident village ogre that townsfolk hurl stones at to keep him away from their livestock. No self-respecting teenager from RI, Catholic High or SJI could step into Coffee Bean in J8 or take bus 156 without looking out for some leery-eyed uncle snapping photos of him as a personal keepsake, or giving him a ‘scary, gay’ smile that sends chills down the spine. Parents may even have taken advantage of the situation, telling their boys to come home by 9pm, otherwise they may get kidnapped and made to be some basement sex slave by the ‘boo-gay-man’ of Bishan.

Some kids tempt fate by getting up close and personal with the icon himself. The photo below would be just as creepy if you replaced Cheng with the silhouette of a ghost. Note that he was facing THE BACK of the bus.

Others, like this ‘thegreenyellow’ blogger, chatted with the man out of curiosity in 2007, and discovered that he was actually a ‘nice dude’ who speaks ‘good English’.

Just last year, a man was caught on Stomp ‘ruffling’ boys’ hair in McDonald’s at J8. Speculations were rife that this was THE Bishan Gay taking his antics a step further, or perhaps this was just a ‘Phase 1 experiment’ of his ‘sex education survey’. It appears that Cheng exhibits more of paedophiliac tendencies rather than scientific inquisitiveness,  so calling a stalker obsessed with schoolboys as a ‘Gay’ may be considered derogatory by the LGBT community. You can say a shirt ‘looks gay’ or a song ‘sounds gay’ without offending most homosexuals, but not if you use it in reference to a child predator. The correct term should be ‘Bishan Paedophile’. Unfortunately, ‘Bishan Paedo’ just doesn’t have the same ring as ‘Bishan Gay’ does.

Now that he’s facing jail time and all is peaceful in Bishan once more, maybe it is indeed time for some sex education for our schoolboys, so that any uncle who happens to be lounging around swimming pools staring at boys in tight trunks isn’t automatically labelled as a dangerous, creepy ‘gay’.

Yale-NUS cohabitation begets relational loneliness

From ‘Co-ed cohabitation endangers chastity’, 5 May 2015, ST Forum

(Chen Dewei): YALE-NUS College recently announced that it will be allowing male and female students to share suites (“Male, female students in Yale-NUS can soon share suites”; April 22). In the report, a parent, Mrs Grace Yeo, was quoted saying: “These are not teenagers but young adults. I trust my son to make responsible choices.”

I wonder if this is representative of Singapore parents today. Based on the 2004 Global Sex Survey by Durex, the average age that Singaporean youth first have sex is 18.9 years. The survey also found that Singapore youth have an average of 5.8 sexual partners. The average age that our youth first have sex is dangerously close to the age when students would enter Yale-NUS. So we have to ask ourselves a fundamental question: Is it an issue to have premarital sex?

Or perhaps we think that even if our children have premarital sex, they can sort it out after marriage. A recent report (“Recent marriages not standing the test of time”; April 7) showed that recent marriages are failing more often than in the past, and I would say that today’s generation lacks faithfulness.

How does abstaining from premarital sex help? Because when your partner can control himself before marriage, he will be able to control himself after marriage.

One may ask: Why keep your virginity when you can have fun? Because sex has the uncanny ability to create a lasting connection with another person, and the voices of your previous sex partners hovering over you when you embark on a serious relationship can be very disconcerting.

Rage and insecurity can hinder the formation of a healthy relationship and it is very lonely to be in such marriages.  Intentionally or unintentionally, Yale-NUS’ policy propagates a lifestyle that begets relational loneliness.

A Yale suite consists of 4 to 6 rooms with a common area, and maybe the writer shouldn’t be just worried about premarital sex between a man and a woman on a bed, but an all-out sex orgy in the living room, after which our graduates will find themselves in miserable marriages not just full of ‘rage and insecurity’, but paranoid schizophrenia because of ghostly lovers’ voices looming over their heads. All because of one fateful night of sordid fun.

As if college kids aren’t getting down and dirty already, cohabitation or not. If not a common suite, there’s the car, the staircase or a bench in a park. To sum up the letter, putting single boys and girls in the same house will lead to more premarital sex, which is a terrible thing for humanity because the best marriage is a one between two virgins with absolute control over their hormones, not people with intimate knowledge of others’ genitals, because such people are obviously irrepressible perverts who no sense of loyalty.

The writer probably also believes that porn, dating apps, budget hotels, deserted carparks, teen dramas and dancing under the influence of alcohol in a club should all be banned because they’re all chastity hazards as long as it presents an opportunity, or induces the opposite sexes to hanky-panky their way to matrimony hell. Perhaps the writer speaks from personal experience, nevermind the sweeping assumptions about something as complex as human sexual behaviour. Or rather, inexperience. The kind of ascetic inexperience that only saints yearn for because it’s their path to holy salvation.

It’s a mindset that’s stuck in the 80’s, when sex before marriage is deemed selfish and a wanton act of disrespect for your future virgin partner, that if you could fool around instead of saving your virginity for later, it means that you’re a potential cheat once you’re married. If anything, these highfalutin champions for preserving sanctity are actually undermining the institution of marriage itself, that love could not possibly transcend one’s personal history of sexual debauchery. If everyone were so choosy about their partners, valuing abstinence above all our virtues, then our population is doomed.

It is 2015, we’re in an age when we’re becoming more accepting of homosexuality, bondage and dirty jokes involving bodily ejaculate, and we have people who still believe that sex leaves a ‘lasting connection’, that strings will ALWAYS be attached in any relationship that involves exchange of bodily fluids, that you can’t have a one-off tryst with a hooker without having the lingering taste of her saliva in your mouth for as long as you live, or a little naked devil popping by your shoulder every now and then luring you into wicked temptation.

Future Music festival banned because of drugs

From ‘Future Music Festival Asia’s appeal for permit denied’, 7 March 2015, article in CNA

Future Music Festival Asia’s appeal for a permit has not been approved, the Ministry of Home Affairs said in a statement on Friday (Mar 6).  “The Minister for Home Affairs has carefully considered and turned down the appeal by Livescape Singapore to hold the Future Music Festival Asia 2015 in Singapore,” said MHA in a statement. It said the appeal was received on Mar 3, and the outcome was conveyed to organisers Livescape Singapore on Mar 6.

Livescape Singapore, which has sold about 15,000 of the 20,000 tickets available for the two-day festival, previously submitted applications for a public entertainment licence to the police in January and last month, but was rejected both times. Police cited “serious concerns” over potential drug abuse at the event.

…The festival, which had a three-year run in Kuala Lumpur, has been marred by drug problems. Concert organisers had to put a stop to the event on its third day last year, after six Malaysians died of drug overdose and another 16 people were hospitalised for drug-related reasons.

Several Singaporeans were also hospitalised after a suspected drug overdose. Two were later charged for drug offences in Kuala Lumpur.

In Parliament on Friday, Senior Minister of State Masagos Zulkifli said that the Government is “keeping an eye” on music events, over concerns of potential drug abuse at such festivals.

In 1970, Woodstock: THE MOVIE was banned in Singapore. No official reasons were given then, but for a nation that also banned Puff the Magic Dragon, it became clear that the censors deemed Woodstock as not only a vile gathering of unsavoury, promiscuous, slovenly hippie characters who strut around nude, but also as a rock bacchanalia promoting and glamourising drug use.

Then ‘electronic music’ in the form of techno/trance arrived on the scene, and the Ecstasy-fuelled ‘rave party’ was born. Not only was such head-bobbing monotonous music conducive to getting high or stoned, it also served as a mantric, vulgar call to arms for secret society hooligans, as depicted in Royston Tan’s ’15’.

We mananged to keep Zoukout in check though, thanks to an army of security officers, though that didn’t stop people from falling into the sea and drowning, or getting molested. In fact, the risk of getting drunk or groped, whether it’s a rave or a state-sponsored New Year countdown, is higher than you slipping into a psychedelic death trance after popping some fun pills.

Zoukout isn’t all that innocent as we might think. Some folks have called for a total ban on that as well, for promoting a hedonistic lifestyle, spreading STDs and encouraging people to have random sex on the beach. The Zouk management insisted that this was the work of a few black sheep, and we shouldn’t allow such ugly incidents to taint the image of Singapore as THE nightlife destination in all of South East Asia.

Not that drug abuse isn’t already happening anyway. If you can’t drop some ketamine or mephedrone at beach festivals, you can always do it in the clubs, or ‘house parties’, where you don’t have nosy bouncers or undercover cops poking into your business all the time. This isn’t the first time we’ve deemed music a threat to public order and civilization as we know it. We’ve pressed the mute button for Thaipusam festivals, for example.

If it’s not due to knee-jerk ‘serious concerns’ over drug use, we also have zero tolerance towards artistes promoting the ‘gay lifestyle’. In 2005, an Action for Aids charity concert Affect05 was banned because it featured a gay couple as lead singers. Some Christians were aghast that openly gay Adam Lambert was performing in Singapore. Taiwanese veteran Ah Mei was banned from performing ‘Rainbow’ at Gardens by the Bay. It appears that succumbing to toxic hallucinations from Avicii-induced euphoria is just as bad as having the idea drilled into your head that ‘gay is OK’.

Maybe we should ban the Laneway festival as well, for turning our clean and green Singapore into a hideous ‘garbage city‘. Not to mention K-pop boyband concerts, for inducing cult-like behaviour. How about F1 concerts? In 2013, mega superstar Rihanna was allegedly high on weed while lip-synching on stage. Think of the harm this would do to her teenage fans! It’s been a while since we’ve seen the ‘Stomp!’ troupe performing in Singapore. Maybe we secretly banned them because they encouraged people to pick up random trash cans and sticks off the street and raise a ruckus, fooling the police into thinking that a riot is happening. And finally Sentosa New Year countdown parties too, because we don’t want women to get gang-raped in full public view.

What we’ll have left is ‘good clean,  wholesome, drug-free fun’, like Air Supply or Kenny Rogers in concert, where you’ll be exposed to love ballads about the sun and the rain and not think about getting high on marijuana at all.

UPDATE 9 March 2015: FMFAsia is officially cancelled. You could say it won’t be coming our way anymore in the near..future.

Spornosexuals showing off on Instagram

From ‘The rise of the spornosexual’, 1 March 2015, article by Gurveen Kaur, Sunday Life!

With his six-pack abs, bulging biceps and tanned, smooth skin, Mr Edwin Kon looks every bit the fitness model. The flight attendant, 29, has been snapping topless selfies ever since he began hitting the gym regularly seven years ago. Initially, the snaps served merely as a visual chart for him to track his physical development. Two years ago, however, he began posting them on Instagram.

“I’m proud of the way I look,” he says. “And there is nothing wrong with posting photos of myself in swimming trunks on social media.” Since then, he has amassed close to 37,000 followers with photos of his ripped physique – images that leave little to the imagination.

Nearly all of them are tagged: #spornosexual.

Coined last year by British journalist Mark Simpson (the same man who gave the world “metrosexual” in 1994), the term refers to a more hardcore, body- obsessed version of the noughties’ appearance- and fashion- conscious man.

Think football superstar Cristiano Ronaldo, pop star Justin Bieber and local actors Allan Wu and Zheng Geping.

If you’re wondering why there’s ‘porn’ in the term, ‘sporno’ is actually a portmanteau of ‘sport’ and ‘porn’, though I don’t see how that applies to Justin Bieber. Lest we forget, the singer used to look like a floppy muppet. I’m also not sure if gym counts as a sport at all. It’s like calling torture a hobby, or walking on broken glass tap dancing.

Bae Bae Bae ooooh

‘Porn’ is apt, in the sense of how these narcissists flood Instagram with their ripped torsos, or ‘torso-porn’. Like porn, sporno hunks objectify the male anatomy, reducing it to money shots of glistening abs, throbbing waxed pecs and bulbous biceps. The first thing you notice is their He-Man boobs, not their personality or their faces.  If you wear a very uncomfortable T-shirt over your sculpted body however, it sometimes looks like you’re hiding an alien trilobite underneath. Which explains why spornosexuals are often topless because the beast needs to breathe.

While ‘food porn’ gets your digestive juices flowing, ‘sporno’ makes you hate your flabby self and contemplate spending your money on ‘ab sculpting’ to fit in with the ideal of a ‘manly man’. It makes you look at your creepy fat uncle during CNY dinner and ask him: ‘Why can’t you do something about yourself and become more like Zheng Guoping, dammit!’ For some, it stimulates more juices than just salivation.

The idea of masculinity has been in flux ever since the first caveman began dragging his mate by her hair. Greek warriors and immortals like Adonis were fetishised and worshipped, similar to how our spornosexuals idolise the perfect body. Before Instagram, we already had buff, ripped men posing naked on canvas. Note the precision used in creating the shadow over his wondrous butt-crack. #greciosexual

In the 1950’s-60s, we aspired for the ‘Hollywood leading man’ look, the cool cat who didn’t think it was necessary to wear tight fitting shirts. All you needed were dreamy blue eyes, a sexy stare and wind-blown hair. Think classics like James Dean, Paul Newman or Robert Redford. Looking good was supposed to be EFFORTLESS, not spending your time pumping goddamn iron. Your face, that smooth pout, that intensity, did the talking, not your biceps. These men made the girls surrender to their irresistible indifference, hairy nipples or not. #dreamboatsexual

The 70’s had its ‘macho man’, and the Village People even made a song out of it.  These beefcakes were not afraid to show off their armpit hair, or sport porno moustaches. The 70’s man indulged in vices loud and proud, sexualising beer, cigarettes and illicit drugs. The spornosexual on the other hand, is often as hairless as a baby’s bottom, in more places than you can imagine. He champions a ‘healthy lifestyle’, owns more wrist monitors than I’ve had watches in my lifetime, and probably has never heard of disco. #hirsutesexual

Hey Girl

The 80’s was the era of the ‘action hero’, in the spirit of the machismo carried over from the decade before. Heartthrobs like Jean Claude Van Damme, Sly Stallone and Arnie were the real deal, and could smack today’s spornosexuals around with their pinkies while curling 10 kgs with the other hand. Conan the Barbarian FTW. Brawn mattered more than brain, and that was just fine.  They graced B-grade movie posters and the covers of Mills and Boons romance novels. Hair started disappearing from chests and faces and migrated in droves to the scalp. In the early 90’s it was Highlander ‘himbo’ chic. You could be a garbage man in overalls and still exude glorious Fabio levels of manliness. You are Anthony Kiedis of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers running in slow motion. #barbariosexual

Me sword very big

Red Hot

Guys started to soften since. From lusty lumberjacks or stately warriors they became dandy princes on horses and pasty-faced vampires, and what used to be grease on their faces is now replaced by a more expensive form of emollient known as moisturiser. The new man was confident, well groomed, dapper and was ‘in touch’ with his feminine side. In short, they became richer but ‘gayer’. They’re not handy with power drills or axe to chop wood, but know exactly which button to unbutton to look absolutely ravishing. Cue the #metrosexual.

He’s a dish. Best served cold

But it didn’t stop there. The masculine identity hit its pinnacle with the UBERSEXUAL. George Clooney became the man of the decade. The ‘Sexiest men alive’ as voted by People Magazine became less rugged and grimy over time, from Mel Gibson and Nick Nolte (?!) to more recent winners like Adam Levine and Ryan Gosling who fit the ‘uber’ bill. The latest winner, however, is grog-guzzling Thor himself Chris Hemsworth, who embodies more of the throwback Conan the Barbarian archetype than the fitspo-addicted spornosexuals of today, guys who swing a mighty hammer like a woman twirling a hula hoop. There is hope.

An interesting trend is the evolution of James Bond, who has traditionally been a sleek, not too muscular ladykiller who epitomised the definition of ‘dashing’. Sean Connery was the classic ladies’ man, before he morphed into the more girly Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan. Today’s 007 comes in the unlikely hunky -doriness of Daniel Craig. Craig is roast beef to Brosnan’s turkey bacon. Or look at Superman. Then and now. All tight and buff but still afraid of Kryptonite. #supersexual

It’s a bicep, it’s a plane.

The rise of celebrity chefs led the way for the invasion of the GASTROSEXUALS. Men who like to imagine themselves conquering Hell’s Kitchen, who know exactly what’s the best spatula or egg timer to use when baking a souffle. Never have we seen the Y-chromosome subject to so much sexual selection over time. It’s more straightforward for the ‘ideal’ woman. They become fatter or skinnier, their hair and skirts get longer or shorter. One moment our girl-crush is Kate Moss, the next it’s Kim Kadashian. Sexy women are just ‘sexual’, without us having to compartmentalise them by their penchant for facial products or whether they post pole-dancing videos on Facebook.

Maybe it’s time to look beyond the physique and glamour and reflect on what society (by society I mean women) finds alluring in a man again. Wit, intelligence, a sparkle in the eye? A man who impresses not with his pectorals but his poetic sense of humour and charm, with an endearing beer-belly body type that suggests mirth and a devil-may-care attitude. Think anti-sporno characters like Jonah Hill, or Ricky Gervais. Comedians basically, with as much brain as belly, not so much brawn. #flabbosexuals

But on a serious note, maybe we need to see if such spornosexualising is even healthy to begin with. You may be fit as a fiddle, but fall prey to a gym addiction and obsess over your body-image. You may collapse into a nervous wreck every time someone makes a passing remark of your weight, or the size of your chest, or fall into depression if someone else got more ‘Likes’ than you did on Instagram. You decide to hit the gym past midnight because you feel guilty about having half a pineapple tart. You spend an hour touching up your pic just to get the right hue on your six-pack and aureolae before making it your icon on Whatsapp. People who nod off on your shoulder on the MRT get concussions because you’re built like a German tank.

That’s no longer ‘pride’ anymore, dude.  It’s body dysmorphic disorder.

SilkAir finally recruiting male stewards

From ‘SilkAir to finally have male cabin crew’, 1 March 2015, article by Karamjit Kaur, Sunday Times

After 26 years of having only women cabin crew, SilkAir has decided to let the men in as well.

…The major shift is necessary because it has become “increasingly difficult” to attract “the right (women) candidates with the qualities that we uphold”, SilkAir said in a recent e-mail to staff.

Amid an overall manpower crunch, the airline told staff that it also has to compete for stewardesses with other local and foreign carriers, such as parent Singapore Airlines, budget carriers Tigerair and Jetstar Asia, as well as Middle Eastern airlines Emirates and Qatar Airways.

…SilkAir’s decision to hire air stewards is a “positive and long-awaited” move, said Associate Professor Seshan Ramaswami, who teaches marketing at the Singapore Management University.

…SilkAir’s new hiring policy “reflects a moving away from a stereotype that only women are suitable for these flight crew duties on board”, he added. At the end of the day, what is critical is the training, he pointed out.

The men, whose uniforms are now being designed, will be subject to the same recruitment terms and 14-week training period as the women, who don one-piece lime green or rustic red wrap dresses, the airline’s spokesman said.

On why SilkAir never hired air stewards before this, she said: “Our earlier strategy was to hire women crew who embodied nurturing characteristics in line with the SilkAir experience we aimed to provide customers.”

According to the SilkAir recruitment ad, the airline requires the following: Cabin crew with a ‘combination of grace and a warm smile’ to provide excellent and attentive service to our customers’,  ‘grace’ and ‘warm’ being adjectives that are not often associated with the male sex, and really serve as a hint that women have always been preferred without explicitly stating that men need not apply. The real reason why SilkAir relaxed their females-only hire policy here is that they’re short of staff, i.e male cabin crew are an afterthought.

Given that other airlines have no problem with stewards, one wonders if SilkAir’s outdated profiling of the female sex as ‘nurturing’ as their rationale for not hiring men comes across as discriminatory practice. According to the Tripartite hiring guidelines, you’re discouraged from recruiting staff based on gender, among other things like race or language, and if there’s a strict gender policy it should be reflected and explained in the ad for clarity. There’s no evidence that SilkAir’s service needs to be differentiated from the rest by having, literally, a feminine touch. If you’re Hooters Air, I’d probably understand.

While we laud such moves as ‘progressive’ and ‘fair practice’, we shouldn’t forget to ask: Why only now, SilkAir? Even airlines from Middle Eastern countries like Kuwait Airways have gotten over the gender hump, for goodness sake. Thailand even has an airline (PC Air) that takes pride in hiring TRANSGENDERS.  Interestingly, SilkAir was the first local airline to break the gender stereotype in 2001 by hiring Singapore’s first female pilot. Yet the papers neglected to mention that at the same time they were hanging on to the traditional concepts of female compassion, empathy and motherly instincts by keeping their cabins testosterone free, with a staff profile resembling more like hospital ward nurses and midwives in the 1950s than a modern cabin crew.

If men didn’t have a ‘nurturing’ bone in their body, we wouldn’t see them volunteering in old folks’ homes, babysitting, nursing, feeding baby tiger cubs or being masseurs. In fact, there are times when you do need some manly muscle in the cabin e.g when there’s a drunk rowdy passenger who needs to be strapped down, or if some guy gets his crotch stuck in the zipper in the lavatory. Stuff which you can’t accomplish with ‘grace’ and warm smiles alone.

Fifty Shades of Grey impeding true intimacy

From ‘The realities behind the Fifty Shades’, 14 Feb 2015, Voices, Today

(Elvira Tan, marriage specialist, Focus on the Family): The film, Fifty Shades Of Grey, based on an erotica novel by the same title, has been released here, just before Valentine’s Day.

…A study published in Journal of Women’s Health last year concluded that there are strong correlations between health risks in women’s lives, including violence victimisation, and consumption of Fifty Shades. Female readers were more likely than non-readers to have had a partner who abused them verbally and to report fasting, binge drinking, using diet aids and having five or more intercourse partners.

Despite this, the novel and the film’s trailer have been popular. This is understandable, since humans have a longing for intimacy. However, sexual intimacy is not the same as relational intimacy. A person’s felt need for gratification may not meet his/her real need for connection and lasting love. Relational intimacy transcends sexual experiences and is best sought out in wholesome ways for it to be truly fulfilling. Ironically, focusing on the body rather than the person lessens both emotional connection and sexual appetite.

The authors of the book, Pulling Back the Shades: Erotica, Intimacy, and the Longings of a Woman’s Heart, explain that erotica/pornography “teach you to be sexually aroused by looking away from your partner, not toward him”. “You may be engaging your body with him, but your imagination is with some fictional character. That’s not intimacy.

…The untold story behind Fifty Shades is that engaging in erotica and pornography drives a wedge in marital relationships, often impeding the true intimacy many couples long for, as recounted in many of the marital counselling cases we have seen.

As a Christian organisation, you would expect FoF to have some reservations about Fifty Shades being shown uncut in its full explicit glory. But short of calling for a ban like our libraries have banned the book, they have cited academic research that explains why BDSM, among other forms of gratuitous porn, is bad for marriage and your overall mental health. Another publication titled ‘“Double Crap!” Abuse and Harmed Identity in Fifty Shades of Grey’ has researchers reading the book to pick out signs of ‘intimate partner violence’.  A more recent paper concluded that the 50 Shades phenomenon drives women to watch porn. No one to date has examined if sales of cable ties and red rope have risen since the launch of the books.

The study cited by FoF even admitted that they could not draw a conclusion on CAUSALITY between 50 Shades and messed-up behaviour or a newfound lust for anal sex. Especially so since it’s only women (specifically women from Ohio State University) who were surveyed and not MEN who’re the ones more likely to imitate and initiate the protagonist’s sex acts. Furthermore, the reference quoted by Elvira (Pulling back the shades) was written by a couple of evangelical Christians themselves, one with a link to FoF. If there’s anyone pulling 50 shades of wool over our eyes it’s FoF for sneakily plugging a book with an obvious Christian agenda in the Today paper.

This is the same group accused of promoting, ironically, ‘rape culture’ in schools. The organisation’s understanding of ‘true intimacy’ seems rather fairy-tale simplistic, more befitting of a Hallmark anniversary card than the real world, and from the previous pamphlet debacle they can’t seem to grasp basic BGR, not to mention BDSM.  50 Shades has become a convenient scapegoat, lumped together with the entire genre of erotica and porn, when they’re clearly another factors that lead to marriage breakdowns or domestic brutality, like access to dating apps, gambling, or the proverbial whipping boy ALCOHOL. Any mature adult would associate the 50 shades themes with kinky sex and role-play (one level of depravity below the use of sex toys) rather than its flaky extensions to partner violence. The difference is that Anastasia’s participation in Grey’s fun time seems mostly VOLUNTARY. This is made clear in the film. Grey doesn’t put her naked in a cage and throw away the key. It’s an erotic ‘romance’, not a horror film.

Curiously, the Bible itself is filled with commands for you to give up your free will and submit to an all-powerful, possessive being, one who doesn’t need a helicopter or glider to rule the skies, but watches your every move, tells you how to behave in front of Him, and asks you to sacrifice your own flesh and blood as a test of your devotion.

Ephesians 5:22 – Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.

Ephesians 6:5-8 – Servants, be obedient to them that are [your] masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ

Deuteronomy 6:4-9 “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates

This isn’t even the first movie here to explore BDSM; In the 2000s Secretary, a bolder film for the adult set, was released quietly. The lesser known ‘Quills’ was an ode to the originator of BDSM Marquis de Sade himself. Guys from my generation would be familiar with the hints of BDSM from the sleazy, coming-of-age classic, Basic Instinct. Even our local movie Sex Violence and Family Values featured a story about parents engaging in kinky sex. We seem more tolerant of bedroom rough-and-tumble than a movie about gay marriage or even one featuring a threesome. The Passion of Christ probably had more brutal, bloody flogging than all these movies combined (not a hint of blood or even a bite mark in 50 shades), and that wasn’t even rated R21.

So BDSM has been around way before 50 Shades took it to ‘Twilight’ levels of mainstream popularity (the series about a ‘dominant’ vampire actually inspired EL James). Rihanna’s ‘S&M’ is still played on the airwaves (‘chains and whips excite me’). Some men who’ve never heard of 50 Shades pay dominatrices to flog them until they regress into a crying infantile mess. If you don’t have someone to punish you, you could suffocate yourself for kicks in a gay spa.  Yet, the pro-family fetishists will have none of it. A performance by Japanese girl-group Ebisu Muscats involving rope was banned because of its lewd suggestions of bondage. Now MDA, to everyone’s pleasant (or unpleasant) surprise, has given 50 Shades the green light to invade our pop culture consciousness unshackled, and here we have someone saying this is bad for marriage, while thousands of Singaporean couples are out there lining up at cinemas over V-day weekend hoping to spice up their dismal sex lives after watching it.

Most people, unless they have genuine fetish disorders, don’t take BDSM even remotely seriously  these days, with discussions on handcuffs, velvet rope, tight leather and ice cubes eliciting giggles and groans rather than uncomfortable squirming. We use ‘sadist’ and ‘masochist’ loosely, describing perfectly normal human beings like horrible bosses and ultramarathoners respectively, to the point that BDSM is no longer as ‘disturbing’ as it once was.  If Fifty Shades were harmful to ‘intimacy’, then the typical Nicholas Sparks’ book/film creates unrealistic, rose-tinted expectations of a romantic partner, which can do as much, if not worse, damage to emotions and intimacy than some gentle ass smacking.

I haven’t read 50 Shades myself, but having seen the movie, I doubt anyone would come out of the theatre rushing to the nearest sex shop to buy designer blindfolds and cable ties, or even less likely, go home and beat the living ‘double crap’ out of their spouses for pleasure, following the Dominant/Submissive contract right down to the letter like a BDSM Kama Sutra.

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