NKF : Death From above 1979

Death From Above : it seems alright!


Okay i can't say i am the greatest fan of Death From Above 1979, but since Mr CoCo and Mr Da Bank have plugged them on the Blue room radio show, i guess i am obliged to not think they are just another rock band. having said that, their name is a perfect caption to this slightly bizzare NKF poster.

What is this mad bizzare obsession in this country to use the distant/ vague/ electorial portraiture ( barthes ) that seems to express every aspiring Pilot/ young mother/ university graduate/ potential kidney failure patient as some horizon gazing zombie with mona lisa's smile. Weirdddddddddd... Is this a mixed-signals attempt at making the NKF a happy, honest organisation?

I too wish to see what they see.

Riding in the East Coast : Part 1

Roller blading, or blading or inline skating or whatever.

The activity that makes bodybuilding legitimate.

Here is a disclaimer, For all those that own a pair of roller blades, click away now, simply just to get the hell out of here. I know some of my close friends own a pair of these ski/corrective footwear looking devices. so to be fair stop reading now.

Now for the rest of you, i offer you this riddle.

“ What is the most preposterously large road hogging car that one could buy, that would offend everyone else on the road by the sheer size/ presence of it?”

Rolls Royce Phantom? yes. Range Rover, perhaps.

so “ what takes up more road width than either of these leviathans... on a cycle track offending everyone near and far?”

Yeeeas... a fucking roller blader or roller bladder as i would now call them. except where both of these cars shout “ i have arrived in life” moving about on a pair of roller bladders does nothing but reinforce your lack of money, style and awareness of the world in general.

No i cannot be moderate about this issue because essentially roller bladdering is just fucking awful. it looks awful, is performed by awful looking people and is extremely inconsiderate in every imaginable way.

You see, roller bladdering is awful for the simple reason that supports my argument that it cannot be ever considered a sport. You see sport is not about timing, or about achievement. Yes some might tell you so, but what ever the case, at the core of it, sport is sport because it is Sexy, and all sport has an element of Sex in it. Even if it does not lie in the actual performance of the athlete, it would at least have some sexy equipment. The world is a twisted and perverted place, and for everyone, there is a sport.

And then, out in the cold there are roller bladders.

Roller bladdering has to be the first activity that i can think of ever that is totally and utterly devoid of any sex whatsoever. let’s take some seemingly pointless activities and review them from this point.

Rugby might be a sport played by twats, but when you do see a good team in action, the smooth play is quite lovely to watch and if that does not mean anything at least there is never a shortage of slappers for the players to lay. Judo , the poor cousin of all martial arts at least looks flowing and brilliant in the hands of the very best and in the hands of the very worst at least the gi makes you think you are a fighting hero. Synchronized swimming might smack of a pack of retarded polar bears in the singapore zoo, but at least the participants are in skimpy clothing. Diving? not only do you have to have a six pack, at least there is the thrill of smacking your head on the driving board at the very highest competitive level. Lots of bouncing tits in tennis these days, ( yes both men’s and women’s ) and at least even chess has an ultimate point of killing. A brief but well thought out list, I think you can see my point.

So what has roller bladdering got going for it? I’m thinking....as i’ve managed to give other sports their raison d'etre. ( 5 minutes have passed... 10....2 hours.... 4 days..) see the list is comprehensively empty.

So what is wrong with it.?

Bladdering is merciless. IF you are new, you are guaranteed to look like a berk, no getting away from it. All people who start roller bladdering look like they are doing the “ egyptian” on ice, totally horrendous. But if that is already terrible, it is when skaters gain that smidgen of confidence and get into aggressive postures that the world is a poorer place. Cycling thru the park, I felt sorry for the beginners who all looked terrified, but my greatest resentment was reserved for the experienced ones, taking up to 4 lanes in a 2 lane cycle track, these repulsive individuals think they are the dogs bollocks with that irritating , hands behind their backs, bent over position with faces bearing that delusional look that suggests that they think that they are the quickest thing on 8 wheels. In reality, they are as sophisticated looking like the hunch back of Notre Dame except moving slightly quicker than a needle in a haystack.

But even if that is the case, at least with all other sports, if the participant is crap, at least the equipment makes up for it. Well not so in roller bladdering I’m afraid. You see at least if you cycle, you could be a fat rich kid with the bling-est bike on the block and people will still want to know you then slag you off behind you back. and that is alright because the ones that are slagging you off are too poor to have a cool bike. And that is the key issue, the object of fascination is the bike. a value has been transfered to a 3rd object , that at its very best a bike is a lovely piece of mechanical art, a legitimate point of desire.
But bladders? bladders? to covert a pair of blades only brings to mind Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda, and all the perversion that goes with it.

What could bladders talk about? my ball bearings are smooth as...? my speckled purple finish is da bomb? . It is all a mess, the foot wear is crap and well the various braces and guards and helmet make you look as if disaster has struck even before a wheel has turned.

But the deal breaker is a distinct lack of performance. As i rejoined the cycle track after stopping off at Micky Ds for a coke light, a 4ft 5 inch tall plump woman skated right into my path and began furiously pumping away, taking up all the space between the right edge of the cycle track and the northern coasts of indonesia. with all the wiggling that was going on, i just glideded behind her to see what meaningful progress she could make. After 3 hours and 50m covered, the sight of her rear proved too much for me and i stopped gliding and effortless sailed past with a quarter turn of my crank, all while i gently sipped on my medium sized soft drink. No, cycling is not as fast as driving, but in an hour i pleasantly rode from Fort road all the way to Tanah Merah and back. and that is certainly not a bad compromise. But for that bladder, by the time she reaches home, she just might find that she is eligible for senior citizens rates at the cinema.

But in truth, why would a Bladder not ever reach anywhere, ever, at all? Simple. Because the activity dictates it. No Bladdering is pointless because the kinds of people that participate are ...urm of a type. Let;s put it this way, group a bladders will never get any where because they have the tendency to stop every 50m, sit under a tree and belt out praise and worship songs accompanied by a guitar that has been craftily hidden down the left boot/shoot/bladder of the worship leader. If not, the unreligeous ones go to the extreme end of the spectrum, and some crazy amphetamine fueled member of the pack will whip out 5 coloured plastic cups and they all get down with some mad stunt work, skating backwards while getting all pretzeld’... urgh.... how utterly ridiculous.

Even if i found it in my heart of hearts to over look all these problems, my final encounter of the evening with a pack of bladders brought the whole situation to a head. Bladdering smacks of “ family bonding” government sanctioned healthy activity, grass rootedness, and it seems that bladdering nirvana at 9 pm on a wednesday evening in the far reaches of the East Coast park is getting together in matching team outfits and bladder... in sequential cadence. As i approached this heaving mess head on, call the taste police because despite the best efforts of all concerned to look spectacular, these losers looked like they were disastrously multi - generational - spooning each other while heading in different directions.

I absolutely rest my case.

god dammit even my inbuilt spell checker does not have the word bladdering. if it ain’t in the dictionary, it ain’t anywhere.


Leeeeeeeeeave it!

All My Dad's Cars to 2006. A retrospective

i was having one of my epic lunches ( so claims my associate )at a road side restaurant in the west coast of singapore when up rolled a Fiat 131 mirafiori. in white. exactly like the one my dad had when i was about 7 or 8.

In fact the Fiat 131 is the first car i have ever remembered drawing. I distinctly remember my dad backing the fiat into our little ( i mean like properly small ) terrace house in siglap one evening and i was sitting on the floor in the living room with my drawing book and magic markers and i was so struck by the bloody rectilinear graphic of the rear light clusters that i said to myself. “ i can draw that “ and so i did , and the fiat was so full of flat surfaces, i think it might have been the first car that i drwe in 3 dimensions.

Anyway. I was happy to see the fiat and i feel it is about time that i try to list from memory all the cars that my dad has ever owned. Pointless you might muse, but you might find it an entertaining list.

Fiat 500



VW Beetle

Fiat 131
Fiat 131 Mirafiori 1800TC




Might have been more Fiats around here, I was too young

Opel Ascona ( Gold )

Another Opel Ascona ( Gold )

Opel Rekord ( Gold ) Belina Spec, but my dad rebadged it Luxus and stuck on some BMW 3 series look alike alloys that came with the E30




Another Opel Ascona (Gold ) but this was an SR model with.... RECARO seats.

Renault 25

Renault 21 (Silver) GTS spec 1.7 carb, manual
Renault 21 ( Gold ... goddammit ) GTX spec. 2.0 auto, alloy wheels
Renault 21 ( Green ) GTS 1.7 carb, auto



At this point i get my driving license.--- i’m 17 and eager.



Lanica Thema ( Silver ) 2.0, 16 valve, Variable Induction system, rose wood inlays, manual, crashed this one 3 times, beautiful engine, rubbish everything else.

Audi A6 ( Gold !!!!! ) 2.3, inline 5 cylinder, 4 speed auto, shiny wood inlays and proper leather. I pranged this ( not crashed ) one once. 133bhp, this was the first A6 which was a facelift of the Audi 100. It was audisih.

I left for the UK. My dad switched to a

Fiat Punto ( Yellow, which is not gold ) I never drove this one

Renault Scenic ( Grey ) 1.6, 4 speed donkey matic gear box. the front end lost grip so easily, and it was so slow i could work out the angle of entry into long sweeping turns while understeering with confidance.

Renault Scenic ( Irridicent Grey ) 1.6, 4 speed Moron-matic gear box, This was the face lifted model that really contributed to the global design phenomenon of huge bug eyed lamps. It had 115 bhp which made it just slightly faster that the other scenic, but god dammit was the transmission a pile of shit. and the cooler box which had the air con duct some air into it never chilled anything, ever.

Ford Focus ( Black ) 1.6, 4 speed Idiot-matic gearbox. horrible drive train, and then you turned the wheel and dammit... it was the finest handling car i had ever driven. It still is.

Volvo S60 2.0T ( Silver ) 2.0,180bhp, inline 5 cylinder, 5 Speed Aisin slurry gearbox, built in phone, ski hatch,

And Currently...

Volvo S60 T5 ( Silver ) 2.3 Turbo, 250bhp, inline 5 cylinder, 5 Speed auto. Xenon lamps, ski hatch, an electronic valet lock, baby seat built into the rear arm rests. and heated wing mirrors !

Mean while In the UK. I drove ( technically these are my dad’s cars as well ) some VW Boras, I bought them as ex-demos cos they were cheap cos the UK dislikes any small saloon unless it is a C/A4/3.

VW Bora V5 ( Blue ) 2.3 5 cylinder in Vee Configuration, 150bhp, 4 speed auto, sun roof. All MK 4 golf based cars are shit, and the bora was terrible, that heavy engine meant that the rear end went light while braking into the corner. It was a lumpen driving experience until you hit the M1 and cruised comfortably on a reasonable wave of torque as the wonderful off beat warble of the V5 kept you company




not learning my lesson i then bought a slightly used

VW Bora V6 4motion ( Green ) 2.8 6 cylinder in a Vee Configuration, 204bhp, Haldex 4 wheel drive, 6 speed manual. winter pack ( heated seats, washer jets, heated wing mirrors ) Sunroof, Leather. Another Mk 4 Nose heavy mess, the 4 WD meant that the car just gripped and then ran wide in corners, it felt lifeless everywhere, and haldex just clumbslily shunting power back and forth... the steering was lifeless, but then, you dropped into 3rd, put you foot down and ... it had a lovely engine that dominated the driving experience and vaguely saved the car. Drove to scotland 3 times in it. 6 speeds mean that it did not drink too much on the Motorways




I have lived with a MK 5 Golf Gti for about 2 weeks

I have rented 3 renault clios, a diesel Peugeot 306 which had telepathic steering and errmmmm a yellow VW Beetle. and in a shameful low point. a green toyota corolla. and a toyota van to move some stuff.

So what is the point of this list?

I. We have owned too many Gold cars. Calling it Champagne makes no difference.
2. I think we have owned a version of every volume production 5 cylinder petrol engine every produced in the last 15 years. I am waiting to be corrected on this.
3. we have owned some lovely engines attached to woeful cars
4. We have never owned a Japanese car
5. we have owned lots of square cars
6. We could never afford the European premium class cars, so we ended up with a bunch of odd ball european offerings ( for singapore that is ) which in a strange way makes you look at life differently.
7. We have never owned any “ bench mark” “ class leading” cars, maybe except for the focus ( handling ) , Scenic ( genre defining ) and the fiat 500 ( charming ). So that means i have honed my skills at making a case for “bad” things which requires more creativity than trying to make a case for “ good” things. Like a wanky BMW 3 Series.


Which really means that, when i have an opinion, i am rarely wrong and you must listen to me.