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Futile Insignificance
26.6.08 . 11:09 |
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 Yet another post with grouses for conscription. I know my negativity will do me bad when I'm in there, but I just can't help it. National Service is like playing soccer in Singapore: In soccer, 20 people are tasked to chase a small ball pointlessly around a grass field for ninety minutes (sometimes with extra time); they are occasionally screamed at by their exasperated coaches; at the end of it nothing constructive gets done and the only people who benefit from the match are the onlookers - gamblers, bookies and, ultimately, Singapore Pools who are gonna be very busy raking in profits. In the case of National Service, thousands of male youths are forced to enlist in the army for two years (some serve extra time in detention barracks), training and living aimlessly for a hypothetical purpose; most of the time they get screamed at by their superiors - sometimes inept ones - for the dumbest things; at the end of it nothing constructive gets done and the only people who truly benefit from it, in my honest opinion, are the onlookers - regulars, women, foreign talents and, ultimately, the country's leaders who can then announce to the world the world class civilian army we have. With the recent deaths of two NS personnel, I got reminded of a sonnet we studied for the 'O' Levels back in 2004. It pretty much resonates with what I feel about the futility of the army. Anthem for Doomed Youth Since Power 98 has dedication programmes for enlistees, would it be possible for me to dedicate this poem to all NSFs? Or would it be futile? Labels: conscription, poetry, simile |
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