Watched a couple of good movies en route to Singapore: The Master, which wasn't at all about Scientology, and Cloud Atlas, and the FSM knows what that was about—but I look forward to watching it again on the next leg. It was a tour de force, with settings including an ante-bellum cotton plantation, a dystopian future with Tom Hanks living a Stone Age existence (some people might approve that fate for him), Hugh Grant as a nauseous politician, Jim Broadbent trying to escape from a walled residence for the aged of whom their families were tired, Hugo Weaving being evil, and TV John going slightly mad. Actors played several roles, so that Hallie Berry (how do you spell that?) was a modern journo and a Stone Age lass on a mission not from God—or was it?
The master in the movie did not write science fiction, so far as we know, but had a great gift for manipulating people—memorable party scene in which everyone was naked, except for the men—and attracting the needy and vulnerable. I assume that his arrest for embezzlement and his acolyte's violence against critics were features of the life of L Ron Hubbard, even though the film was not about Scientology.
When checking in on Bencoolen Road i was feeling fine, thinking i had coped with the flight quite well but the hotel staff were clearly not impressed, as I was assigned to a room with unfamiliar layout, in which one enters from the corridor straight into a large bathroom, with two emergency buttons, i.e. designed for a person with disability. So far I have refrained from pressing.
While Adam is doubtless enjoying the air-conditioned hotel, I am lurking in the shade in Singapore's amazing Gardens by the Bay, with stunning artificial trees. Next time I'll make sure to come by night, when there is a light show. Also, the sun will be less strong.
My disability in Singers is in coping with the heat.
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