The truth is, at times, ugly So what do you do when your worth hinges on how it is depicted?I’ve always been one for showcasing wholesale - telling it as it is - but I do acknowledge that there are occasions where (some degree of) censorship is necessary.In this instance, almost all the photographers present at the crime scene have indicated in a knowingly manner that the explicit photos of the deceased can’t and won’t be published.On what grounds though, it wasn’t elaborated.Is it a matter of exercising good taste? And where do you draw the line?That said, I do understand where the reader is coming from. He took issue more with the moral stance of the paper rather than clear-cut censorship guidelines governing decency and the like.His criticism had me rethinking if that photo should’ve been left aside out of respect (that is, assuming the question of disrespect even came up when one is considering the photo) and if we could all have been a 'lil more sensitive. For that, I felt rather guilty.From: TeoSent: Sat 20/09/2008 6:18 PMTo: Ansley Ng Wee Lit; NEWSSubject: Comment on WEEKEND TODAY’s Article on “Yishun tragedy”hi Ansley,This email is not directed against your article.I am fine with your article.hi Boon Keong,This email is not directed against the photos taken.To me, you are doing your job in recording what happened at the scene.In essence, my comments are directed against the CHOICE of the photo being published alongside the article.hi TODAY,I refer to the article “Yishun Tragedy” on Page 8 of Sept 20-21’s edition of WEEKEND TODAY.I want to express my utter shock and deep disappointment over the choice of the main photo that accompanied the article.I must say that the publishing of the main photo (the one at the top) was a really really bad choice.I even question if it is right to publish such a photo at all.I also wonder if the choice of the photos have been carefully vetted by your editorial team.If it was vetted, then what I want to ask is - wasn’t there a better choice other than the one being published?I am sure there must have been other photos taken by the field crew.So why was this particular one being chosen??Wasn’t the photo on the lower right, showing the woman lying on the ground, sufficient to bring the point across?Argument:Even though the woman is dead, shouldn’t TODAY have shown her much more respect as a human being than to publish a photo of her in such a state?Her lower body was exposed and even though she still had her panties on and it was mosaic’ed in the photo, there was no denying that her modesty was compromised.If you (from here onwards, “you” = TODAY) publish a photo of a life woman in such a state, I dare say that it would be considered an obscene photo. And the woman involved would have the right to sue your paper for publishing such a photo of her.So why is there a double standard here?Just because the woman here is dead?Does it mean your paper can publish whatever photo you want of a dead person?There clearly is no respect being shown to the dead woman in this case by publishing the mentioned photo.May I ask which part of the story was your paper trying to bring across when the decision was made to publish this particular photo?Who made the decision?On what grounds was the photo selected?You may argue that it was exactly what happened at the “crime scene” and your paper was just recording and publishing the facts, as anyone at the scene would have seen her in such a state.Yes, anyone at the scene could have seen her in the state as shown in the photo. But anyone NOT at the scene would not have seen it, until your paper decided to publish that photo.Now that it was published, the whole country and even the whole world (if your paper decided to publish the print version online) could have seen it.If you ask yourself, would you want others to see you in such a compromised state, even if you are dead?Conclude:I would argue that, by publishing this photo, your paper have gone beyond what was necessary (in a negative way) to bring the story across.And as mentioned above, I question if it was even right to publish a photo of this nature.I have always view TODAY as a serious and credible newspaper.I acknowledge that responsible news reporting and publishing requires hard work from everyone involved in the chain, from the field to the office.Nonetheless, the tight datelines and fast-paced nature of news publishing work should not be an excuse for compromising the standards of your articles, as your paper have worked hard in achieving high standards over these years.I hope this was just a lapse in judgement on the editorial team.I hope that your paper will not go down the path of “sensationalised” reporting just to woo readers, as some papers obviously do.I personally feel that your paper owes an apology to the family members of the deceased woman.Teo Foreign workers are sex fiend ...or at least that's the impression many locals seem to have.One rainy evening some two weeks ago, I was at Serangoon Gardens to cover a meet-the-people session attended by Minister George Yeo and Mrs Lim Hwee Hua. Coincidentally, that was just a day after word got out that the Ministry of National Development was studying plans to convert an old school in the vicinity of the housing estate into a dormitory for some 1000 foreign workers.Expectedly thus, the issue dominated the discussion and the residents were all "true to form" in voicing out their disapproval.A lot of grievances were uttered, but from what I hear, I get the idea that there was pretty much one common concern on everyone's mind. And though it was never said outright, it was implied again and again, what with pregnant comments like "As it is, workers from construction sites nearby stare at my maid, even when she is with us in the car", "There will be a lot of half-naked men sitting by the roadside" and "They have needs too". But from a brief conversation with another photographer while waiting, I realised I was too quick to assume that this line of protest sits squarely only with those who do not want anything they regard as remotely unpleasant in their own backyard. And that the rest of us can tell that it's Prejudice rearing it's ugly head. When I mockingly suggest that they mind as well consider shipping these foreign workers away to some offshore island to stay, she dryly let on that their worries were valid and if she had a daughter (which again re-enforces my earlier point), she too would be troubled by this new presence in the neighborhood.And so it was with a bit of an eyebrow raised when I studied the table accompanying Zul's exclusive article in yesterday's Today, detailing the breakdown of arrests in 2007 by population type. For the numerically-challenged, what the figures above are telling you is simply this: statistics have shown that for every 100,000 Singapore residents, there were 435 cases of arrest made. Yet in contrast, for every 100,000 work permit holders aka foreign workers, the arrest rate came out to be only a relatively low 227 cases.Suffice to say, foreign workers commit fewer crimes than the locals themselves. That is, if these numbers were anything to go by. Unfortunately, there was no further disclosure into the breakdown of sex crimes within each category.Said a flight attendant interviewed in the piece, who routinely sees many Indian workers sitting under his block, chatting with friends over bottles of beer, "This whole discussion about foreign workers just highlights the different treatment we accord 'foreign talents' and low-skilled workers." Press Freedom Photo: LuncheahWhich comes first, the chicken or the egg?1. As reported in the papers today, a senior Sin Chew Daily journalist based in Penang has been arrested by the Malaysian ISD under a tough security law.2. Ms Tan Hoon Cheng reported on a seditious remark made by (now former) Bukit Bendera UMNO division chairman Datuk Ahmad Ismail at a ceramah during the Permatang Pauh by-election period, describing the Malaysian Chinese as 'squatters' (pendatang).3. This caused a national uproar from the Chinese community as well as BN's Chinese based parties, MCA & Gerakan, which severed ties with the state UMNO after Ahmad Ismail repeatedly refused to apologise and even went on to reaffirm his stand. 4. To soothe mounting racial tension, the UMNO Supreme Council finally on Wednesday (Sep 10), meted out punishment to the defiant statesman, and suspended him from the party for three years, on top of stripping him of all posts. 5. Prime Minister Abdullah Badawi reportedly warned that the government would invoke the tough Internal Security Act law against anyone who attempted to stoke racial tensions. 6. And that was exactly what they did last night when they came for Ms Tan at her Bukit Mertajam home. 7. Two others - Mr Raja Petra and Ms Teresa Kok (who got embroiled in a religious matter concerning the use of loudspeakers at a mosque) - were also separately arrested on the same day, but Ms Tan's case cut close to the bone because the only reason she got involved was none other than that her byline preluded the article. 8. That often seemed to be the case when action is taken against an article that was viewed as contemptuous by people of authority or power. The name that was printed alongside it gets the lion's share of the blame, when in truth, anyone who knows the workings of a paper knows that under such repressive press culture, the reporter is really little more than the person who filled in the words.9. He certainly does not have the last say - that is if he has any say at all - in the angle and the voice of the article, especially when it comes to political stories. 10. What he does is merely to brief the editors on what has been said and observed, and maybe give a suggestion or two about how he wants to structure his piece. 11. They are the ones who approve the content. They set the direction. They vet the sentences. But even before all that, whether the report gets an airing or has to be dropped due to OB (out-of-bounds) markers concerns, it is not for the reporter but the editors to decide.12. Journalists do not make that call. 13. As such, it is most unfair that when toes get stepped on, the journalist is one held responsible and then penalised accordingly.14. But having said that, in the context of this controversy, can the media be accused of stoking racial tensions in running a report on Ahmad Ismail's racist comments? Is Sin Chew Daily wrong to put it in print?15. Sin Chew Daily issued a statement last Monday, which maintained it did not overplay the remarks made by Ahmad Ismail. The newspaper said it's report comprised only three short paragraphs and appeared on page eight as a sidebar to the main article, which was on the speech made on the same occasion by Deputy Prime Minister Najib Razak.(Source: Bernama)16. "The report contains 144 words, and was a mere 1.89 per cent of the total layout of that page. The reporter was reporting the event factually and did not have any intention to play up Ahmad's speech," it said.(Source: Bernama)17. Sin Chew Daily also pointed out that Mr Ahmad did not make any clarification or denial of the report; neither did he request the newspaper to make any correction.(Source: Bernama)18. "It was only ten days after the report was published that Ahmad Ismail held a press conference. He admitted he said the Chinese are lodgers, but it was an interpretation of the history which depicted the role of the race prior to Merdeka."(Source: Bernama)19. The newspaper also said: " We believe firmly that we have to handle it in the manner we had, and it is only right for us to handle it that way."(Source: Bernama)20. Along with The Sun and Suara Keadilan, Sin Chew Daily was handed a show cause letter yesterday for alleged manipulation and highlighting of sensitive issues, putting it's print permit under threat. 21. My personal thought is that the government is probably looking at the matter from the point where even though such remarks were actually made, that factually the article had no mistake, only those few hundreds odd present that night at the ceramah would've been ruffled by it had it gone unreported. 22. But now that it has gone to print, a whole nation is shaken up. 23. Therein lies the rationale behind the show cause letter. 24. Many are left questioning however, if this is not a case of shooting the messenger but letting off the perpetrator with a slap on the wrist. Ahmad Ismail was not among those hauled in by the ISD. 25. Referring to the show cause letters, Norila Daud, President of The National Union of Journalists (NUJ) in Malaysia, described the worrying trend as being tantamount to further restriction to press freedom. “Only a few weeks ago, Prime Minister Datuk Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi mentioned that the media should write the truth and there should be no fear in writing the truth. Look what has happened now.” (Source: The Star)26. Malaysian Home Minister Datuk Seri Syed Hamid Albar in turn admitted that the decision to detain people and issue show cause letters would be unpopular and would be criticised but it had to be done.“While we may want to be popular, freedom without responsibilities has ramifications."(Source: The Star)27. I wonder if this were to have happened in Singapore, will similar measures be taken? The Godfather Still the most compelling figure on the national scene, the man has a way of standing out and stealing the show.NDP 2007NDP 2008That much is obvious: he is no sheep. The Wasteland April is the cruelest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain.-T.S. Eliot Winter The new makes me wonder if it's worth trying so hard for while the old won't let me let go....But remember how down he was? Before and after 24 June. Sanity isn't Statistical They don't come anymore glamourous than this: A blurb for my birthday and my second police report in less than a year. This is starting to make me feel like such a bad boy already. But of course my friend was quick to remind me that I am at best, only remotely dangerous. (ya, ya)Which brings to mind the times I have shoplifted erasers and cheated on bus fares. Youth was my excuse then...but I've since been reformed. On the occasion of my turning thirty, it's reassuring (and yes, heartwarming) to know that I have good friends. Or more accurately, friends who really do care and will make an effort to hv me know I'm not just another person they've come to know. Sometimes I wonder if I've been just as appreciative or attentive. If I'm not too self-absorbed (perhaps this thought just confirms it). Life is full of paradoxes. Even within yourself you can have so many conflicting thoughts that contradict one other and yet not be able to figure out which exactly you believe in or stand for. And it is much too short to hv a manual with 101 guidelines. But then, when are you living it and when are you compromising (possibly even without you realizing)?It's a fine line between the latter and giving yourself a chance. So I figured the root cause of it all is really just my curiosity - plain and simple. At the end of my life, I wld like to have tried it all; to experience everything for myself and know what it is like. 'When' is not so much an issue for me. Yet that's exactly what you can never be sure about. There are things that are entirely a matter of personal choice. Those you can be patient because it happens when you decide for it to happen. But there are also those that you just have no control over, and can only hope it's in the pipeline somewhere sometime further down the road.Such uncertainty naturally breeds anxiety, and it is precisely this that often tempts one into considering "alternatives". Which then makes you question if you're not being true to yourself. There are times when I just wished to be let out of this game. Either get it over and done with, or go live a hermit existence in some secluded island and stay completely detached from "the ways of the world". Finally, a quote to seek comfort in...from a very wise man:"Being in a minority, even a minority of one, did not make you mad. There was truth and there was untruth, and if you clung to the truth even against the whole world, you were not mad. Sanity is not statistical." Conquer the World: Checked With Bhutto's assassination, I suppose it's safe to assume the Pakistan trip has been postponed indefinitely. But that doesn't bother me too much, 'cos next month I'd be heading to Viva Las Vegas. Or rather I shd say, to the Grand Canyon since that's really the part that excites me the most. I don't even remember liking "I'll-hv-one-of-those" Vegas. That said, I wonder why us photogs can't just go on trips in exchange for pictures rather than words. And of all things, tech shit. Always tech shit. Absolutely dreadful.Whenever I enter into such agreements (not that I have a choice), it takes half the pleasure out of the whole junket even before it begins. But it is how it is, and so I shd be grateful for the internet. ;)I wonder too if I shd extend and go off somewhere for a while. Somewhere like New York City wld be a hoot. Except that NYC isn't exactly right next to Nevada - not even close - so it's gonna involve a plane ride. Which considering the amount of extra time that I can possibly get, might prove to be a bit of a stretch. So perhaps on a more realistic note, I should settle for somewhere a 'lil nearer. Like San Francisco, my next favorite US destination. But wherever I go, extending would mean having to burn some leave days. Which in turn will mean I'll no longer be equipped with the full amount if and when I do take a real break in March and fly off to a desired faraway place. At which time I know I'd surely think to myself: Dammit. After spending this much money in getting myself to Europe, I cld've stayed on a couple of days more had I not squander my leave allowance without considering this in the first place. Thus the dilemma. How nice if NYC were just located say in China (Shanghai doesn't count) or anywhere in East Asia. Then I'll not have to think so hard where I wanna run away to in the coming year. A few months back, I was already quite set on Germany, but recent conversations with a few friends doesn't sound too encouraging. Spain is very nice. England is very nice. France is very, very nice. But nary a word on Germany. No gushing whatsoever. Maybe it's too "unhappening", which is fine by me as long as the place is safe, easy to navigate and affordable and friendly accomodations abound. And now -not that there's much connection to the last thought - I'm reminded of a work friend who told me about how he picked up smoking and drinking while backpacking in Europe for 3 months. What I can't quite fathom was how before this, he claimed to be one of those who'd actively discourage his friends from lighting up, and not just, like me, tolerate the habit in spite of my personal opinion against it. He doesn't know why either.Guess u can call that life-changing. In Loving Memory A quick note before I take off for the rest of this week to say I’m ok. I’m saddened by her departure naturally, but most probably won't be able to tell by the way I’m gg about my routine pretty much like normal. Though of course I can’t say I felt very normal throughout the day. My thoughts kept drifting to my grandma – random snippets of what I remembered of her and our time together. And the bit about her suffering a lot through the whole of last night disturbs me considerably. I had no idea. I was merrily chatting away on MSN with a friend. My uncle had informed my mom earlier that she was already looking a lot better than the day before. Now I’m convinced this is always a sign really, that death is near – how one’s condition suddenly improves after a prolonged period of illness. It has been the case for quite a few I’ve known who’ve passed on. With her passing, so many things are now left uncertain. What of reunions? Will our families come together again on festive occasions or holidays as we did when she was around? What is to happen of the old house we grew up in and have so many fond memories of? How will the daily routines of my uncle and aunt change from here on? We’ve all been so used to the idea of her being around that one just can’t help but feel the void now that she’s gone. But I can’t say this is sudden or even unpredictable. For there were already a few scares previously that had prepared me for this day. After she suffered her first heart attack and subsequently grew frailer with each passing year, I find myself wondering more and more about when this day would come and when it does, how it would hit us and what it would be like. That’s of course not to say I look to this day; On the contrary, it’s precisely because I dread it’s impending nature that I was mindful. And this time around, there were already tell-tale signs. Such as when she told my mom a couple of days back over the phone that she was too weak to even speak to her. We shd’ve picked up from there that this was unusually serious and not just the result of “a ‘bout of diarrhea”. My uncle said she refused to be admitted into hospital until my Aunt Louisa arrived back home from Sarawak and needed much convincing before she finally relented. I’m just really consoled that she got her wish when she breathed her last. My aunt was by her side – she rushed back in time fortunately – and so was my cousin Ashley, whom we all know is one of her two favorites among the grandchildren. Por por, You may no longer be with us physically, but you'll live on in our hearts and in our minds.And I look forward to seeing you again, when the time comes. Rest in peace. On the Run Len is proud of us I hear, so he gave our "achievements" (effort?) some airing. And that's me being too cheapo to pay for the images (at 30 odd bucks...no way!), so these will have to do. yikes I can't believe I've become one of those ppl who post pics of themselves running on their blog. I do look back on the past 3 months of training fondly. As gruelling as those sat morning runs can be, I'd surely come to miss them 'cos it gave us a very good excuse to bond and to have a common goal to work towards. And I like being part of the team. For that reason, I look forward to us all returning for next year's marathon. And that includes you Ans. Start charting your comeback if u wanna kick my (now sore) ass and give me a run for my money (no pun intended)! Wee was right abt not being able to get much sleep the night before, but that's not 'cos I was excited like he said I wld be. Rather I was simply restless. Having to wake up at unearthly times have this effect on me. But it's just as well, 'cos I realise I tend to be more active subsequently when I'm up and running (again, no pun intended). At least for the first couple of hours, that is. Which might explain my exceptional form yesterday morning. For the first 30k, I felt like I cld run forever. And so there was hope of finishing below a very respectable 4 hours. But then came the 33km mark and suddenly my legs just completely ran out of energy. Every step became ten times harder and each km seemed a looong looong way. The only thoughts that kept me limping on were that of not wanting to sarbotage my entire efforts in the first 30k (and that's alot to forsake) and to not malu myself in front of a whole pack of supporters by walking when I come in. hahaSo much for pride.Will bear in mind though in future if and when I train for marathons, to up my distance to 40k and not just leave it at 32 which according to most ppl, is abt enough. The last 10k is NOT loose change, that much I can assure you!One thing I can't stress enough to those who spoke to me after the run asking who among us won, is that running a marathon isn't so much abt who is faster or has a better time, but what each individual set out to accomplish. Some want to make a certain cut, some aim to beat their previous timing and then there are others who just wish to complete the full distance without dying. So victory in that sense really depends only on whether or not you achieve your target. wk's point on the messages written on some of the runners' bibs brought to mind one that I found particularly amusing -"Have you checked the petrol prices lately"For me as well, that was a good distraction. Not to mention a valid justification as to why I'm putting myself through this. hahaWhich brings me to an article ST ran the day before the marathon...The marathoner: Pain crazy or plain crazy?By Rohit BrijnathYOU'LL hear them tomorrow, even before you see them, the slap of rubber sole on concrete, the ragged chorus of painful breath.Then they'll come into view, this marathon army, all washed in sweat, some faces impassive, some grimacing.It's when you might ask: What's wrong with these people?Non-marathoners and marathoners arrive from separate solar systems. Non-marathoners crave calories; marathoners count them suspiciously.Non-marathoners gel their hair; marathoners eat gel. Marathoners think 12K is a dozen kilometres; non-marathoners think it means two six-packs of Kronenbourg lager.Forty-two is an impressive waistline, a fine golf score on the front nine, and the age of the delightful Diane Lane. It is not a wise distance to run.If you've ever limped your way to 2km on the treadmill, remember this: To complete the marathon, you need to run more than 20 times that distance. With no air-conditioning.It's a thought so depressing that non-marathoners need a steak just to calm down.It's not that non-marathoners don't exercise, for we are known to bend to pick up our golf ball from the rough.It's just that we would not run 42.195km even to receive the last cold beer on earth on a sweltering day from the aforementioned Ms Lane dressed in nothing but... okay, okay, you get the picture.Marathoners are scary. Haile Gebrselassie recently ran the distance in a world record 2hr 4min 26sec, and one might ask, how fast is that?Let us say this: Could you run the 100 metres in 17.69 seconds? Probably. Could you run 42 consecutive 100m at 17.69sec? Probably not.So imagine this: Gebrselassie ran the equivalent of 422 100m races at 17.69sec.The very beginnings of the marathon are seen as inauspicious by non-marathoners.Legend has it that a fellow called Pheidippides ran this distance, bearing news of the Greeks' victory over the Persians at the Battle of Marathon in 490BC.When Pheidippides reached Athens, he yelled 'we are victorious'. It is a fine story, except this fellow then collapsed and died.From ancient times, men have understandably required a stiff drink to even contemplate running the marathon.According to The Complete Book of the Olympics, Spiridon Louis, the winner of the 1896 Olympic marathon, was reportedly fed two beers before the start, followed during the race with red wine, an Easter egg and more wine.He was even delivered a brandy, but refused it. Perhaps he did not like cognac.The race is so demanding that Bill Sherring, the 1906 Olympic winner, started the marathon weighing 51kg and finished at 44.5kg.Still, people run, jog, walk, crawl, limp through the marathon. Still, about 12,000 people tomorrow will be driven to conquer this distance and themselves.You have to wonder, what is it about this race that beckons people?So I call Rob de Castella, who set a world record in the marathon in 1981 and won the marathon at the 1983 World Athletics Championships.He is the perfect man to ask: Are marathoners crazy?'Maybe we are a bit,' he chuckled. 'But then you have to be crazy to do anything brilliantly, to push yourself to the edge.'It's like Sam Snead, who won golf Majors in the 1940s and '50s, practising till his hands bled.Ah yes, bleeding. De Castella explains that nipples can chafe and bleed.He explains there are blisters, born both of friction and constant pounding, and that these bleed too.Furthermore, feet go numb with the pounding and, just to illustrate the point, he says it's a bit like 'hitting your finger repeatedly with a hammer'.But de Castella says this is, gulp, only 'superficial pain', that you can run through the blisters and chafing, but what tests the runner some days is an 'overwhelming feeling of weariness, an exhaustion deep within your bones'.Not every marathon is a trial. For there are some days, he says, when 'you're running fast and feeling as if you can run forever, and it is an incredibly exhilarating experience, like finding the sweet spot and hitting a perfect shot in golf'.But, on bad days, it's hard to stay positive, to keep going, as part of the mind pleads stop, and the lungs scream, and the glycogen in a weeping body is depleted, till the last 5km can resemble 'hell on earth'.But right here, perhaps, is where we excavate the heroism of the marathoner, we unearth the essence of this grand, relentless race.Because what the marathoner does is he endures. He breaks through invisible walls of exhaustion. He goes forward, somehow, even though his right leg cramps while running and left leg cramps while walking.He finds a way to finish what he started.There will be one champion tomorrow, yet many winners. For the runner competes with himself, answers his own challenge, pushes the envelope of his own possibility.Sohn Kee Chung, winner of the 1936 Olympic marathon, once said: 'The human body can do so much, then the heart and spirit must take over.'The marathon will never be a spectator sport because its battles, and its pleasures, lie within, beyond our gaze.Still, de Castella says, look at the faces of the people who finish after 31/2 hours, after four hours, and you might see a reflection of the accomplishment they feel inside.'Pain', he says, 'is outweighed by a deep sense of pride and satisfaction and achievement. The only reason we do it is that the enjoyment significantly outweighs the pain.'So perhaps this is what we, the non-marathoners, should do tomorrow. Wake up before dawn. Skip the treadmill. Drive to the East Coast Parkway or the Padang.And when the runners, trailing sweat, come into view, applaud their insanity, give their spirit a standing ovation, cheer their resolve.Then we can go back and finish our steak and eggs. Truth and Dare You sometimes wonder if the replies you give on the spot are the most truthful.A very articulate woman - one Margaret Kent, who published a NYT bestseller entitled 'How to Marry the Man of Your Choice' - caught me off-guard this afternoon while I was tuning in to the interview, and shot me a random question:"What is it about women that you'd like to change?"And I honestly have no ready answers. But after a moment of silence, off the top of my head, I uttered, "I'd like them to be more independent."Which i had to admit, was for me a 'lil bit of a surprise initially when it rolled off my tongue. Though I do mean it. In fact, I still can't think of a more satisfactory answer. But there were no further elaborations, and no additional probing either. Until we stood up to take our leave. Then came another question. I was pointed to one of the two girls standing before me and challenged to guess, just from her mere appearance alone, what she does. Not publishing, I was told. "PR. Public Relations."Now the why. "Why do you say so?"Tough. An uncomfortable pause. "Because her dressing is stylish. And she is standing in a confident manner."Surely that's non-offensive without coming across as too diplomatically fake (smart decision to withhold mention of cleavage). "So would you go over and introduce yourself? Ask her for a date?"Good grief. Is this a test?I hesistated for a bit, hoping she'll leave it as that, but all eyes remained on me. Waiting. "err...no."So I walked away with the sense that I'd somehow contradicted myself. Suspicious Minds Almost a month on, what do I remember of the trip?J spilling Ovaltine all over herself on the plane. *snigger*But of course, there are other things,...like......the sweet thai-styled roti-prata snack (which I swear will kill me if I stayed on and ate a couple more)...how impossible it was just to locate and pull over 2 vacant chairs at the make-shift night market along the Mekong...worrying if we've enough money to buy a visa into Laos while queing up at the border, only to learn later on that it's FOC for Singaporeans (way to go PM Lee!)...having to head back to Nong Khai Grand (a misnomer of a name if u ask me) and humbly ask the same recep lady for a room after our initial snub the day before,and last but not least, ...rushing to the airport on a tuk tukSadly, however memorable all that was, the trip had to be declared a failure 'cos no fireballs were sighted. At least not at where we were, when we were there. And so in disappointment, we contemplated lying to our friends back home (yes we shd be ashamed of ourselves!). Which in turn made us momentarily wonder if this isn't really just an 'Emperor's New Clothes' phenomenon. I mean, the claims that the fireballs can't be photograph does make it sound somewhat suspicious, doesn't it? GhostyHead Legend has it that anyone who looks at the statues will turn to stone. Looking Expired I know of ppl out there who're into expired slides for "the look", but having finally seen it for myself, I can't say I'm a fan.Which reminds me, I have a whole tin of bulk provia that has been sitting in my fridge since 2004. Any takers? The Way We Wore It's always fascinating to look back at fashion statements and trends of yesteryears and realising how foolishly ppl bought into those now-glaringly-cringe-worthy looks just because they've been pronounced "in vogue" by influential fashion magazines then. Source: GQThe lesson to be learnt here is thus: Don't trust everything you see in magazines. This month, GQ looks back (regretfully) at some of the "lapses in style judgement" that were made over the past 50 years, one of which was thisPhoto: Arline and Marvin Oberman; Beatles photo courtesy of Capitol RecordsThe year: 1966. The Beatles’ Revolver came out, psychedelia was just around the bend, and we, a tad out of step, asked four Manhattan hairstylists to tame the mop tops. “If François Di Giorgio had Paul McCartney in his chair,” we wrote in our February ’66 issue, “he would cut his hair medium-length, give it a short part and the slightest of waves across the front to create the rounded ‘Fantastique’ cut.”All I can say is: The hairstylists ought to be shot. It's almost like they've gotten the 'Before' and 'After' order reversed. For more faux pas, see here. Selpl Csat To those who think my spelling suck...here's my justification...fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! Suffice to say, I can read this. Where did All the Good People Go? I can't claim to be the most civil-minded person around that's for sure - hell no, sometimes I know I really ought to be more so - but when the right thing to do is this obvious - let alone right before me - u can count on it I'd do my part. The pair of elderly took quite a while even just to make their way towards the grab-pole. Their arms and limbs were trembling from old age, yet the boy acted as if he wasn't aware of it and continued to fiddle with his handphone. Annoyed, I wondered in my head if I shd say or do something, and about the reactions I can then expect. Or if I shd simply sit on it like everyone esle - as disappointed as I was - so I can continue my ride in peace. But I was not in peace. And thus I decided to take some form of action to express my disapproval. Naturally, my shame tactic of choice involved the camera. So I whipped it out from my bag, trained it in the boy's direction and started clicking. The pictures now reside in the paper's archive, filed under 'Inconsiderate Behavior', among others. Someday hopefully, either one will get used when the right article comes along so the brat will be exposed. Presenting the Fourth Generation Though having flown a couple more times since my first on a China Airlines plane bound for Taiwan courtesy of the army, the miracle of flight never cease to amaze me. How I can be having breakfast with my cousins at the market in Pokok Assam just this morning and now sitting here on my fave couch spot back at home in Singapore, watching ‘Lost’. The ear butts I used earlier today are still fresh in the bin at my grandma’s place. Some 700 km from where I am now. Unlike previous visits back to my hometown, we took a plane this time instead of a bus, for the welfare of my dear baby niece (or shd I say all of us, since what’s worse than being stuck on a bus is to be stuck on one with a restless baby). She’s a lucky one, having gotten the chance to fly even before she turns one. And from this trip, I also learnt that she’s a shy ‘lil tot. A girly girl! Unlike my cousin's baby boy who's so seemingly at ease with strangers, my niece's face wld slowly contort into a frown when she’s in the arms of someone unfamiliar, and not before long, u'll find her quietly sobbing away. I'm secretly amused whenever I observe this. It's comforting to know that both babies hv finally gotten to meet their great-grandmother. At least that much is fulfilled. Though I do sometimes wish she was better-abled to interact and bond with them. A Shot on Parr And so I've acted upon it - what would otherwise hv most probably been yet another passing thought if not for a sudden sense of urgency to start cracking at my KPIs and keep up with the rest of 'em. Now I feel like I'm qualified to write the man's biography; like we have a friendship. But I suppose of course, it'll seem that way too to anyone who has spent days poring through all relevant write-ups, transcribing interviews and taking notes. All for the sake of turning out a piece that hopefully wouldn't appear lame or superficial to ppl in the know, which in the first place was the whole point of this exercise - to add value. For what it's worth, I think I've given it my best shot and for that I'm satisfied. Though I have to say, every single time I listen to the recording of the interview, I never fail to cringe at the sound of my own voice and the way I speak! No one must hear this ever! Punk'd 2 hours I shd think, is enough to make anyone who isn’t hell-bent on seeking some form of justice to reconsider lodging a police report. Especially when it’s already past midnight, you’re tired from work and stuck at the station with some lady locked in a monetary dispute with her tenant, who just won’t stop gg on and on ’bout how “the stupid man will be begging and crying for mercy later” because “God has eyes”. And for this memorable first experience, I owe it all to those damn punks who must have thought their lives too boring and so decidedly jumped on unsuspecting ’ole me yesterday afternoon while I strolled past on my way to the NDP rehearsals. Maybe I looked harmless – I don’t know – but what baffled me and continues to baffle me was that it didn’t occur to them that a tripod as sturdy as the one I was carrying can actually do a lot of damage. And adding to that, even though I’m no expert in planning attacks, I’m inclined to think that the common walkway right outside the HSBC centre isn’t exactly the smartest choice of venue to carry out one. For a start, it’s just sitting beside one of the most utilized roads in Singapore. And furthermore, considering that it was only 4:45pm, what are the chances of not having someone encountering upon the scene en route to the bus-stop outside the Fullerton Hotel. As such, I certainly didn’t see this coming. And it took me a while too before my mind cld processed what just happened. I mean, if I were at an alley in the middle of the night, yes I can see it happening. But absolutely not in such an open space under broad daylight. Word for word, my statement reads:“On the 30/06/2007 between 1630hrs to 1700hrs, I was walking along the pathway in front of HSBC building and I spotted a group of about 6-7 Male subjects (majority of them Malays) leaning against the wall in front of me. Most of them wore boots and wore tight jeans with leather jackets. They dressed like “punks” and two of them were bald-headed. They were about 18-25 years old and all of them were skinny build. I ignored them and carried on walking past them. After walking past them, two of the Male Malay subjects started to assault me from the back by fisting me. I turned around and the whole group of Male Malays were in front of me. During the assault, I started to swing the camera tripod stand in front of me to defend myself against the assailant. While doing so, another Male Malay among them who was holding onto a long hard object about 40cm charged towards me and started to hit me on my head with the object. I wished to state that I did not see clearly what was the object used. While the Male Malay was attacking me with the object, the other two assailants had fisted on me and tried to restrain me from swinging the tripod stand. I managed to break free and while the whole group was approaching me, I started shouting for help. The group then fled upon hearing me shout for help. I wished to state that I had not seen the group before near to my office area where I was assaulted. Nothing was taken away from me during the assault. I would not be able to recognize the assailant as the incident had happened too fast. This is the first time such an incident had happened to me and I am very sure that four of them from the group had assaulted me. I had suffered slight swelling on the right side of my head, left arm, right shoulder and right shin area. I had not seek any medical attention. After the assault about 10-15mins, I called for the Police at 999 and was advised to lodge a Police Report at the nearest Police station. That’s all.”The police officer who attended to me typed this up and for the record, I wish to state here that I1) can’t be sure there were no girls among them. 2) am also not all that sure they aren’t any younger than 183) didn’t just swing the tripod. I flung it at them and hit whoever was in front of me on the head, arms and back a couple of times, which hopefully is hurting right now. But I didn’t really describe all that much to the police, only that I retaliated with my tripod. 4) am beginning to think that the so-called “long hard object” could very well be a skateboard.5) got hit on the head only once (which resulted in the bump) though he did take aim a number of times6) was also kicked repeatedly apart from the fisting and attempts to hit me on the head by this guy wearing high cut doc martens.7) can still vaguely remember one or two faces, but during the recording, the officer asked if I was very sure I can recognize all of them, which after a moment’s thought I didn’t think I cld, so I replied I wasn’t confident about identifying them all accurately. 8) can’t even really be sure that 4 of them from the group assaulted me. Could possibly be only 3. To be honest, the words “very sure” scares me a ‘lil. 9) called Matt first before I called the police. I don’t really know why either, but he just felt like the right person to talk to. And it seemed he has an idea who these trouble-makers were and have seen them around. So maybe I’ll get a chance to snap their mugs after all. Trying to make sense of what happened right after the punks made a dash for it was weird, almost awkward in fact. I didn’t know how I shd be reacting or what I ought to be feeling. I wasn’t even sure if I can say I was relieved ‘cos the whole time, it did feel like I was watching from the outside the attack unfolding. It was only 5 minutes of what would otherwise hv been a normal enough day, 5 minutes from the rest of the time where business went on as usual, but the drama in these 5 mins isn’t quite something one can walk over once it has come to past. The whole incident was disturbing enough yet it didn’t leave much of a dent for me to gripped tightly onto in my head. And so I simply continued normally towards my intended destination as if nothing had happened, though a couple did stop me at the bus stop to enquire what I was shouting for help for. It’s hard to say for certain if the punks were trying to rob me, which was initially what I thought. But seeing that none of them even gave much of an attempt to lay their hands on my bag and wallet, my best guess now is that they just wanted some thrill. Matt tells me there’s this ongoing fad in England called ‘Happy Slapping’, where kids go ard beating ppl up randomly, so quite possibly, this cld be it. That said however, I won’t completely rule robbery out as their motive as I had this sense when they were trying for my head that they hv every intention to knock me out, then take my stuff. But it was just too bad I didn’t cave in half as fast as they’d expected, which made them momentarily unsure of what next to do. These punks are new to this I can tell. Of Wordplay and Mosquitoes A well thought-out tagline is always refreshing to hear. And the most recent one I've came across that stuck was"For the Ocean's team to get even, they have to fix the odds".Almost as witty as Eminem declaring"Everybody only wants to discuss me, So this must mean I'm disgusting"But having said that, I reckon not everything that finds it's way into your memory is necessarily an indication of quality, though of course the good ppl behind it wld hv u know that they've succeeded. Sometimes it's really only because it's so bad. The latest dengue slogan comes to mind. "If they breed, you will bleed"I won't say it's horrific, but for some reason, it just doesn't sound sleek to me. A 'lil corny in fact. I'm reminded of the stuff in my Primary 6 autograph book. Speaking of dengue, the niece has introduced me to something every army boy ought to consider getting. Mosquito patches. Up until now, as far as options go, I thought there were only your usual OFF sprays and coils (which I swear by) in the market to chooose from. And seeing that it actually goes well with the camoflage, the next time I'm due for reservist, I'll be sure to give this a try. In the meantime, inspired by all this talk of taglines, I've thought up my very own for the mozzie patch. "The buzz around no buzz"Well yes, thank God I've got a day job. What doth this day brings Alas, my slave-driving ways has taken it's toll on the machine, which decidedly hit back last night by going on strike and holding my strip of film hostage. Needless to say, I - the tech idiot that I am - was at a loss, so this morning, I played nice and went easy. But the problem still persisted. Tough luck. Which means I might just have to make another call to the docs once again and try to hv them cover it under the warranty. Yes, by acting blur, if that's what it takes. A group of Japanese students studying photography came on a tour of our work space yesterday. This on the same day that I happen to bring my Araki book with me to the office. And in today's papers, I read"In Japan, if you ask a guy about his age and marital status, it is considered 'sexual harassment'."Meanwhile, I learned today that the nature of assignments can be unpredictable, in the sense that what I dreaded doing at first can turn out to be something I really wldn't mind doing on the hindsight after I'm through with it. Going down to Vivo for a job this afternoon had me popping over to Page One later and then ending up with my very own piece of Shomei Tomatsu. Of course, the generous goodie bag (think 2 $50 vouchers inside) made it all worthwhile too. My mother is a very happy woman. (if HR is reading this, I'm not who you think I am) Yet again victim to The Cropper There is bad cropping, and there is bad cropping. In the course of our work, we've all had our fair share of experiences with how our original pictures ended up looking appallingly wrong in print due to what is often cited as "space constraint". But this here takes the cake. For comparison sake, what I gave them was:Can you blame me for questioning their sense sometimes? Prison Break The warrant wants us to be happy soldiers and look forward to our reservist every year when we get called up. But I suppose some things are just naturally disdainful. Like exams.Going back to camp is always a reminder that time is relative. It's all the same in terms of hours and minutes technically, but while a week is usually gone in a blink when I'm out and about on my regular routine, in camp, even a single day can prove to be a real test of one's patience. The only good thing about doing time there is that I get to catch up on my sleep and my reading. The months of PDN that would come in the mail only to be stashed in some corner of the room. And not being able to do the things you like always gives you a renewed vigour to persue them once you're free again to do so. Pertinent You don't often see people lying leisurely on grass patches here in Singapore, so as I was walking by, a man doing just that on the freshly-laid lawn beside the Singapore river caught my attention. He had a book to his face. A Murakami. On my way home later, while waiting for the train, the lady opposite me pulled out a book from her bag. Also a Murakami. And I know my friend Matt too is presently reading 'Wind Up Bird Chronicle' - a favourite of Don. This he told me last week. Aches and Grips I didn't go for a jog today. My legs were aching from having attempted the IPPT twice in less than 48 hours. Only because I fell short of the passing grade for Standing Broad Jump by 5cm, which rendered my whole test the first time around, null. I hate machines!Besides obsessing over whether or not I'm ever gonna see 212cm before my window closes next Wed, my life this past week pretty much revolved around scanning. Yet as driven as I am, I hv come to accept that I can only finish no more than 2 rolls in a day without foaming in the mouth. Which is frustrating considering I have 60 rolls sitting in front of me. So you do the math. I'm just eager to get it all done fast as I can. And it helps that as I scan, I'm also actually seeing alot of the images for the first time myself. It sucks to be broke. A read from the Straits Times which made me fondly recall my loo experiences in Japan. Washing the past awayJapan's culture of politeness is to blame for the omissions of YasukuniBy Ong Sor Fern, culturevultureApril 26, 2007IN HIS essay on aesthetics, In Praise Of Shadows (1933), Japanese writer Junichiro Tanizaki waxes lyrical about the loo.He writes that 'the Japanese toilet truly is a place of spiritual repose' and speculates that it must have inspired many a haiku poet.His conclusion: 'Our forebears, making poetry of everything in their lives, transformed what by rights should be the most unsanitary room in the house into a place of unsurpassed elegance, replete with fond associations with the beauties of nature.'I finally appreciated Tanizaki's love affair with the facilities when I first visited Tokyo four years ago. I remember the mixture of hilarity and awe when I first encountered a Japanese washroom with all the trimmings.It was equipped not just with a bidet - three spray options, no less - but also, quite thoughtfully, a blow dryer. There was also the obligatory 'courtesy tinkle' - a button which, when pressed, played a recording of flushing noises as sound camouflage.The cubicle also housed a plastic pillar fitted neatly into a corner which could hold an infant or a toddler while mother was busy with other things.That washroom experience was a pivotal encounter. I have been enamoured and enthralled by Japan ever since.Japanese toilets are fascinating not simply because they are nicely appointed. It is the care and consideration that so much technology represents.All that equipment with such specific functions had to be invented by someone who actually sat down and thought long and hard about the needs of a person in the toilet.To me, this says a lot about Japan's culture and its people. In everything that the Japanese do, there is an awareness of the presence, and the needs, of others. Hence, the famed politesse of its people.But this culture of courtesy also has a dark side.On my most recent trip to Tokyo, I visited the Yasukuni Shrine. The shrine has been a source of great controversy, both in Japan and in Asia, because it honours Japan's war dead. It has been a diplomatic flashpoint for years, especially because convicted Japanese war criminals were enshrined there in 1978.The place looks like any other Shinto shrine in Japan, with the obligatory torii gate, manicured gardens and prayer hall. But Yasukuni is also home to the Yushukan, a museum containing war relics and a permanent exhibition that documents Japan's military history.It is this latter space that proved the most troubling for me. A tour begins with a short film, which, although shown in Japanese without subtitles, was unmistakably nationalistic and celebratory in tone. If the dramatic voiceover, with its theatrical highs and lows, failed to clue you in, the martial music was a dead giveaway.The first half of the exhibit, about the traditions of the samurai and its weaponry and armour, seemed no different from the museums in Europe I had seen which documented knights and their equipage.Once the exhibition moved to Japan's military history in the 20th century, however, I saw what the fuss was about. The crime that Yushukan commits is the sin of omission.While it scrupulously documents every military conflict Japan engaged in, it fails to acknowledge Japan's aggressive military policies. In practically every wall note and caption, most of which were in English as well, Japan is conveyed as a peace-loving nation which acted purely in self-defence.Japan's invasion of South-east Asia, for example, is portrayed as part of the nation's effort to secure natural resources for its growing economy. There is no mention of the brutality of Japanese soldiers in the conquered countries.What was even more unforgivable was the conclusion, which noted that after World War II, former colonies in South-east Asia fought for their independence. The implication was that the Japanese were to be credited for inspiring the battle for independence.In a very warped fashion, I suppose that could be true. After the horrors of the Japanese Occupation in Singapore, there could hardly be anyone here who believed colonisers were a good thing.The museum was a disturbing experience as it was a close encounter with a militaristic point of view which remains alive and well in Japan. On Yasukuni's grounds, I spotted an elderly man, evidently a veteran, dressed to the nines in military garb.Yet, distasteful as the exhibition was, I could also understand why the museum conveyed such a lopsided point of view.Since its founding in 1882, Yasukuni's purpose has been to honour those who died fighting for the Emperor and, by extension, for the country.In a way, the exhibition's exclusion of any uncomfortable facts can be seen as part of the Japanese habit of being polite. The soldiers died for their country, they were heroes and, ergo, it is rude to talk about nastier truths like the slaughter of civilians and the rape of comfort women.But that does not mean this approach is right. In fact, Yushukan's existence is an indictment of people who carry correctness too far, respecting the form but neglecting the spirit of the intent.While critics rightfully object to the place as an insult to war victims, it is also a mistake to vilify Yasukuni. The place, after all, commemorates more than two million war dead, including Taiwanese and Koreans, not just war criminals.In the end, I took a leaf from the Japanese way and left a polite, if lengthy, essay in its guestbook, expressing my disappointment at the Yushukan's lack of objectivity.If more people were to offer considered feedback in such fashion, perhaps Yushukan could be persuaded to change.After all, to communicate, you must first learn the other party's language. A review by Joerg Colberg of Conciencious. Czech Eden by Matthew MonteithIf you take photos in a foreign land, they will be different from the photos taken by the people who live there, because what you see is unfamiliar (maybe even strange) for you. In the same fashion, when you view photos of a country, to a large extent your perception of what you see is guided by how much you know already about that country. In that sense, there is no absolute photographic truth of any given place, simply because your preconceptions (or their lack) will determine what you see. I think it is very important to keep this in mind when looking at books like Matthew Monteith's Czech Eden (there are some sample photos from the book here). In his foreword to the book, Ivan Klima addresses this complex by quoting a young photography student who said that what was portrayed in the book "related more to the gloomy period of Communist rule than to the present day." To which Ivan Klima responds that it wasn't the photographer's intention to show any specific period. I have no idea what the actual truth is. I did visit a fairly similar country during the last throes of its Communist rule (East Germany), and I did visit the Czech Republic some years after Communism had been ousted.What I do think, though, is that is important to try to avoid getting this particular aspect in the way - as tempting as it might be for Westerners to think in those terms. After all, the Czech Republic is one of the countries that is not really somewhere at the fringes of Europe, but actually right in its center. And thinking in terms of Communist/post-Communist unnecessarily clouds what we see. So if you want to do yourself a favour, try to immerse yourself in what the photographer decided to portray. This is how you will get most out of the photography.Czech Eden mixes landscapes with portraiture, still lives, and even the occasional street photography scene in a way that has become quite common in contemporary photography, and the results are very appealing. I am usually drawn most towards the landscapes or cityscapes, simply because of my own personal preferences (if given a mix), and Matthew Monteith clearly excels with his. Very nice environmental portraits then add the icing to the cake - and, yes, the photo of the couple with the little child standing in the lake (which you can see here) does look absolutely spectacular.Needless to say, you own preferences will be different. In any case, Czech Eden clearly is one of the highlights of this Spring's list of new books ("with Spring" here defined via the calendar and not the weather), and if you like contemporary photography this is one of the books that belongs onto your book shelf. Style/Look A review of Aila - a book of photographs by Rinko Kawauchi - on Photoeye.In the Winter 2004 issue of Aperture, Charlotte Cotton (Head of Programming at the Photographer's Gallery, London) wrote a brilliant synopsis of the work so far of Rinko Kawauchi. It will be surprising that Kawauchi, who is 32 years old, has just published Aila, her third book to be published with Little More of Tokyo, a hip publishing house that has also put out books on Yoshitomo Nara and Hideki Sato. The Japanese, generally, have approached photography in a manner less restrained than in the West, and more autonomous from their traditional art forms. As such, the photobook has been a major vehicle for the dissemination of photographic imagery, rarely representing the culmination of an artists’ career but rather serving as an expected step in the creative process. Cotton mentions in her article the “lack of preciousness about single images or reproduction quality” as being singularly Japanese. Aila is a perfect example of that approach, relying instead on a clear joy in observing her surroundings bolstered by a spirited and brisk editing of the work. In this case, Kawauchi tackles the daunting subject of ‘birth and life’ with a convincing naïveté. -- Darius Himes Night at the Museum Even though they can be found online, seeing the actual prints in front of me was quite something. And the names accompanying each set of photographs; all in the same space. I remember feeling a tingling sensation down my spine. Magnum's 60 years of TokyoRenowned agency celebrates long relationship with JapanThursday, March 29, 2007By MANAMI OKAZAKISpecial to The Japan TimesKnown for its independent stance on photography, the agency Magnum Photos has been home to some of the world's most prominent photojournalists, starting with its legendary founders, Robert Capa, Henri Cartier Bresson, David Seymour and George Rodger.Since its start in 1947, the agency's photographers have been regarded as visionaries. They are known for the visual impact of their war-zone documentaries, the eloquence of their commentary and the emotive power of their works. In celebration of the agency's 60th anniversary, the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography is holding an exhibition of 150 monochrome and color photographs of Tokyo, seen through the eyes of Magnum photographers from the 1950s through to 2006.For an audience familiar with local shooters such as Daido Moriyama, Nobuyoshi Araki and Shomei Tomatsu, who have an innate knowledge of their home town, some of the recent works might feel cliched, concentrating on the easy subject matter that the West obsesses over: Harajuku's cosplayers, Akihabara's otaku (geek) culture, and Tokyo's sex clubs. This may make it seem that -- as well documented as Tokyo already is -- it is difficult for photographers to come without preconceptions; that what often guides them is not an openness to local character and its universality but their own expectations of the differences they will find. One Magnum photographer even expressed "disappointment" when he came to Tokyo on a residency and found that most of the city lacked the excitement that many photos of it portrayed.Read the full article here.