on the truth in Hong Kong

Hong Kong, my home, has seen better days. Protests, demonstrations, street violence, bomb plots, conspiracy theories of all shapes and colours, have shaken us all.

One side claims to fight for human rights and freedom, the other claims to fight for stability and order. I haven’t committed myself to either side despite the horrors of the last month or so, but here is what I make of it all:

We are, all of us, focusing on the wrong fight. Continue reading “on the truth in Hong Kong”

on two types of self-censorship

Both my parents are pretty artsy people, so there is some nude art at home. There’s a statue of some kind of nymph – that used to terrify me as a child, not so much because of her nudity but because of her dead-eyed, Nefertiti-esque face – and a couple of nude paintings. But one time, anticipating that family friends (and their young kids) were coming over, my mom decided to discreetly stash away some of our collection for the time being. Continue reading “on two types of self-censorship”

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