July.
Can anything be more appropriate than two pop icons from childhood coming out of the closet, after semester where a UVA student put up a "Gay? Not Fine By Me" poster in his dorm window only to return after a weekend and realise he had become Public Enemy #1? Nothing more classic than Lance the former Baptist choir boy from Mississippi have his mother discover his worst-kept secret online. (Although what kind of showbizmum would read a rumour and turn to the Internet to confirm it, rather than talk to her son?)
Three, even two years ago, no one was talking. Now, open sexual identity could very well revive careers. Post-Brokeback, people confessed and got inside their heads, tried to understand others and themselves, or have others understand them. Yet perhaps the more they learnt... the more they realise how little one can ever know. This is the age of frustration.

Neil Humphreys is leaving for another story! The man who lived on our island for ten years and loves it even when laughing at it. That is true journalism. Basically, friends-around-my-age, the era in which we grew up is over, and every time you blink - the world changes, so keep those eyes open.

I shot a man in Re-no, just to watch him die

I'm back in the office; why is it only 10am? I've been sitting here for, figuratively, days. Mel flew back to Adelaide Monday night and I forgot to call her. Sure I got off work at six, arrived home at seven, wrestled with the oscillating Internet connection and only emailed the UVA talk powerpoint after eleven. Why didn't I have my phone with me? I'm sorry :(

When one listens to strangers' conversations Bindy Mackenzie style, they are often banal. It's not that I set out to dismiss other people as stupid and climb on a high horse, and it's not that I purposely listen to people in situations where conversation is guaranteed to be lame e.g. the Card Players at Serene Centre Macs. But yesterday I was eating at the food court during lunch break and there was a group of probably uni students next to me, and they were talking about clubbing. Not even interesting stories either; just I drank six beers and passed out and my unkind friends just dragged me into another pub and I drank more and oh that club is sleazy oh I know one that is even more sleazy oh go buy your food first guys no ladies first hahaha blah blah blah.
I am mocking needlessly, so end of transmission and since when is conversation about entertainment, half the time? It's all proof, ground, testing waters, embracing and receding from people at the same time. If I do it again, or start sounding like a poem that could go like:

Oh skinny S'pore girl, coming out
with your nose in the air
and laces untied!

smack me upside the head and tell me to do something else with my time.

Despite the fan-ficcy nature of Pirates 2 - WTF love triangles, the random revival of old enemies, some lazy Singapore/rum allusions to the first film, etc. - what makes the Pirates franchise work are the villains.
I mean, how awesome is Davy Jones? Behold the tentacled one above. To the right is John Silver from Disney's sorely underrated pirates-in-space flick Treasure Planet (for the record, first modern Disney feature in history where the hot protaganist possesses no love interest). While the ubiquitous Jack Sparrow would be a more appropriate parallel to the charming, who-in-hell's-name-is-he-with Silver, my point remains that the multilayered villain is hardly a new concept - it's just how well you do it. The gleeful melodrama killed me: Davy's emo organ playing, full-throttled laughter, liquid expression after ordering Bootstrap to whip Will (I loved Bootstrap too, of course), the Poe-ness of his Beating Heart clumsily flung into many dusty corners.
As for the rest, this commenter on Pajiba summed it up nicely:

They crammed a lot of stuff into the movie, so it did feel a little disjointed, but I had a blast, there were a lot of sexy men (Norrington? WTF?!), and the CGI was incredible. As someone said... it's based off of a RIDE at DISNEY WORLD. It isn't supposed to mean anything. Johnny Depp is just supposed to nance around while Orlando Bloom broods and Keira Knightly stands with her mouth open like a fish. So yeah. I liked it.

End SPOILERS.

Part 2: Let's Talk About Orientation, My Youth

Singaporean film-maker Unsu Lee said, "Even the indie scene has become formulaic." I have to agree. In every coming-of-age tale there's inevitably

a) Questioning of
- sexuality
- religion
- parents' authority
b) There will also be plenty of family gatherings that are
- warm
- dysfunctional
A great example of this would be Little Miss Sunshine - the teaser reeks of the above qualities. But what a sweet, sweet smell!

(As per usual, click to enlarge)

There's Rice Rhapsody (left) - Singapore-based movie about a mother going all out to prevent her youngest son from turning out like his gay brothers - and C.R.A.Z.Y. (right), French-Canadian movie about a father going all out to prevent his second-youngest son from turning out to be gay, despite the fact that his straight older brothers are heartily moronic in other areas.
I liked Rice Rhapsody quickly as it was a mad little movie that dropped the superior soapbox a Singaporean is assumed to stand on when he doesn't easily understand values outside his cultural spectrum.
C.R.A.Z.Y. was different because I was hard-put to find it truly original. But it's the sort of movie that clings to you because of choice moments - Zach meeting Michelle's eyes during night mass to exchange sneaky smirks before he dream-sequences floating on air under the priest's approving eye, a smartypants aside to his mother's fervent belief in his ability to perform miracles (he was born on Christmas Day).
And there's that thing about how movies set in the '70s will always express a deep love for music despite its not being directly about music (what personally springs to mind is Heath Ledger schmoozing to "Maggie May" while polishing a surfboard in Lords of Dogtown). A teenager with paint on his face warbling David Bowie in his bedroom, so loudly the entire neighborhood can hear him - what's not to love?