The Small Disappointments
Some of you might be disappointed to learn that no, I don't have dengue fever. I'm sorry I let you down and took away that little bit of excitement from your lives. I'm sure it would've been a touching story to follow, full of the ups and downs of human drama. But alas, it is not to be. I'm feeling much better now, and in fact just finished cutting down a script today.
Cutting down a script has to be one of the most painful things a writer has to do. Sure, I know I wrote it with tons of fat. Those were easy to slice off. But sometimes you're forced to cut out stuff you really liked. I had a couple of scenes that I loved, and now they're pretty much all gone. Too risque, they said. Pah. Let me tell you, cutting out sutff you love is like forcing to choose which of your kids to sacrifice to God. The ol' guy was pretty fond of doing that in the Old Testament, or so I hear. Now that's the kind of God I like; someone with a sick sense of humor.
OK, I guess it didn't feel that bad. Maybe I'm just getting tired and want to move on as quickly as possible. In fact, I was almost clinical about it. Much like many of the old fogeys when they sacrificed their children.
Speaking of bloodshed, I was rather disappointed at the outcome of the whole Orchard Road affair. I was really hoping against hope that Singapore would finally have a serial killer. Our only previous one was somewhat disappointing, having only two victims. And let's face it, Singapore is depressing enough to produce a decent serial killer, it's just that we lack the imagination (or so the Reluctant Scientist claims).
Think about it, body parts found near Orchard MRT? That's right out of a movie! The only thing missing was a huge message written in blood, taunting the police. And just imagine the widespread panic over news of a serial killer! Women would walk the streets in fear, grasping their little Swiss army knives for protection. Then a man's body would be found, and even men would tremble in the still of the night. People would call their friends to make sure they got home safely every time, parents would wait up for their kids all night. And the ensuing manhunt, the frequent announcements reassuring the public, the drama!
But no, we lack the imagination. It's sad, but true. Just look at how people have been disposing of bodies. Cardboard box in the river. Hello? Cardboard disintegrates in water, stupid. Bags which can be traced back to you - just plain careless. Packed into another cardboard box (what is it with local killers and cardboard boxes?) and dumped in the woods - better, but still, why cardboard? And wouldn't it be better to bury it?
Of course, rich white women in Hong Kong don't do much better. What makes you think rolling your dead husband in a carpet and dumping him in a storage locker (which the both of you rented, by the way) would remove any suspicion from you, you silly cow?
Methinks these people need to watch more CSI. Perhaps then they'll stop making these stupid, stupid mistakes. Or maybe they should start by reading this (which I hadn't read till after I wrote the first draft of this post). Bear in mind, though, that I feel it'll only work if you're not connected to the victim in any way. So yeah, pretty much the safest kind of killer to be is a serial killer or a professional assassin.
And I was just thinking of writing a serial killer movie set in Singapore too. What a letdown the whole maid angle was. Ah well, we all have to learn to live with the small disappointments in life. It's part of growing up, I suppose.
Cutting down a script has to be one of the most painful things a writer has to do. Sure, I know I wrote it with tons of fat. Those were easy to slice off. But sometimes you're forced to cut out stuff you really liked. I had a couple of scenes that I loved, and now they're pretty much all gone. Too risque, they said. Pah. Let me tell you, cutting out sutff you love is like forcing to choose which of your kids to sacrifice to God. The ol' guy was pretty fond of doing that in the Old Testament, or so I hear. Now that's the kind of God I like; someone with a sick sense of humor.
OK, I guess it didn't feel that bad. Maybe I'm just getting tired and want to move on as quickly as possible. In fact, I was almost clinical about it. Much like many of the old fogeys when they sacrificed their children.
Speaking of bloodshed, I was rather disappointed at the outcome of the whole Orchard Road affair. I was really hoping against hope that Singapore would finally have a serial killer. Our only previous one was somewhat disappointing, having only two victims. And let's face it, Singapore is depressing enough to produce a decent serial killer, it's just that we lack the imagination (or so the Reluctant Scientist claims).
Think about it, body parts found near Orchard MRT? That's right out of a movie! The only thing missing was a huge message written in blood, taunting the police. And just imagine the widespread panic over news of a serial killer! Women would walk the streets in fear, grasping their little Swiss army knives for protection. Then a man's body would be found, and even men would tremble in the still of the night. People would call their friends to make sure they got home safely every time, parents would wait up for their kids all night. And the ensuing manhunt, the frequent announcements reassuring the public, the drama!
But no, we lack the imagination. It's sad, but true. Just look at how people have been disposing of bodies. Cardboard box in the river. Hello? Cardboard disintegrates in water, stupid. Bags which can be traced back to you - just plain careless. Packed into another cardboard box (what is it with local killers and cardboard boxes?) and dumped in the woods - better, but still, why cardboard? And wouldn't it be better to bury it?
Of course, rich white women in Hong Kong don't do much better. What makes you think rolling your dead husband in a carpet and dumping him in a storage locker (which the both of you rented, by the way) would remove any suspicion from you, you silly cow?
Methinks these people need to watch more CSI. Perhaps then they'll stop making these stupid, stupid mistakes. Or maybe they should start by reading this (which I hadn't read till after I wrote the first draft of this post). Bear in mind, though, that I feel it'll only work if you're not connected to the victim in any way. So yeah, pretty much the safest kind of killer to be is a serial killer or a professional assassin.
And I was just thinking of writing a serial killer movie set in Singapore too. What a letdown the whole maid angle was. Ah well, we all have to learn to live with the small disappointments in life. It's part of growing up, I suppose.
posted by cinewhore @ 11:32 PM
1 mindfucks
1 Comments:
Plot: Deranged Blogger goes on killing rampage because Singapore just doesn't have any serial killers. Victims totally random and each victim was found killed in a distinctively different manner. E.g. burnt to death, stabbed, hacked, drowned etc. Leaves messages taunting police.
Downfall: Blogs about it and kenna traced via his IP to random cybercafes over Singapore and police implement that IC numbers be used in Lan shops and subsequently after comparing thousands of IC numbers, get a link and trace down the bugger. Just before he finishes his coup de grace of offing a highly decorated policeman involved with his case.
Climax: Face off at Suntec City rooftop. Plunges to his death holding his iBook.
gimme some mindfuckery
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