Hollow Men

It looks like social media and the current crop of politicians don't mix too well. Intended to overcome the inconveniences of queuing for inexorably long hours at Meet the People Sessions, and spare the parliamentarians from irate constituents carrying flammable liquids, the kind of responses found in MPs' Facebook pages will probably boost blood pressure several points higher.

The printed word provides a better platform for putting across ideas with carefully composed arguments, especially for those who lack the skill of speaking impromptu without the benefit of supporting research material at hand. When one receives a cursory brief response, one can only assume the author does not value your query too highly.

When Cheng wrote to Lim Swee Say that two weeks had passed, with no signs of the authorities on site to assess the situation at Simpang Bedok, where drunken FTs roam freely and a gang fight  actually broke out on a Friday at 5.13 am, all he got was a one liner, "Dear Cheng Denver, the Authorities are looking into the matter." Notice there's no specification of which "authority" was deputed to solve the problem, the town council, the police or a private contractor. And no time table is proposed - maybe proactive action will be initiated only at the next election.

Shanmugam had the opportunity to endear himself to a a young voter who wrote in seeking advice on how to approach cats who shy away from human contact. Instead of teaching the little girl about the cruelties of animal abuse, and how the tormented creature will always avoid a heartless prosecutor, he brushed her off with "afraid I don't have such powers!"  Yeah, like it's a nice reminder that he exercises his powers only to hang young men caught up in drug trafficking, and incarcerate do-gooders by labelling them Marxists. Ask your own dad about growing up to be a kind lady, he's too busy being minister to bother about the human touch.

But the hollowness is hard to beat when Cheah asked the major goofball of an ex-SAF general whether latter was prepared to lay down his life for this country and its people (meaning Singapore, and not the Langfang Republic). YES, Chan Chun Sing, raising hand, affirmed his willingness, "Because it is my country, our country. No further reason is required for me." Problem with that simplification is that, of late, the possessive adjectives "my" and "our" have lost much of their meaning given the dilution of ownership by the influx of foreigners. He should know better, if he had been listening to his soldiers as claimed, growing numbers of our young men in temasek green have been asking, "who are we defending anyway?"