Methinks we should have more politically correct topics when Skype chatting with friends’ mothers. So we’ve lost George Yeo and Chiam See Tong (and Potong Pasir under the SPP), but the opposition has doubled the number of seats they hold (not counting the possibility of Lina Chiam becoming an NCMP). We also have Tin Pei Ling. What a year.

In January 2003, the U.S. Trade Representative announced the conclusion of a free-trade agreement with Singapore. In an early draft released to the public, it appears that Singapore managed to exempt its broadcasting sector from national-treatment obligations. However, under the heading “electronic commerce,” Singapore committed itself to grant national-treatment to “digital products,” defined to mean “computer programs, text, video, images, sound recordings and other products that are digitally encoded (emphasis added). This wording will preclude Singapore from giving preferential treatment to CDs or films made by its own nationals. Again, the MPAA trumpeted the agreement as “striking an appropriate balance between trade liberalisation and the promotion of cultural diversity.” (Grant, P.S. & Wood, C., 2004. Blockbusters and Trade Wars. Berkeley: Douglas & McIntyre.)

Yes, it’s really there in the agreement. Something to chew on—I suppose this is meritocracy at its finest, but I dunno.

Last night I dreamt I was playing with my dogs, and they were both well and healthy. It was one of those dreams where everything was amazing until you woke up. My (brother’s) labrador retriever died two years ago on a Sunday from a heat stroke. The buhund’s showing his age.

When I was young, I read in a book that when you finally die, your muscles relax and you let out whatever’s in your bowels and bladder. Buddy was on the vet’s table when it happened and my heart just dropped. It’s strange to touch a cold body.