Like A Teapot

We're leaving together
But still it's farewell
And maybe we'll come back
To earth, who can tell
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground
Will things ever be the same again

It's the final countdown

We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall
Cause maybe they've seen us and welcome us all
With so many light years to go and things to be found
I'm sure that we'll all miss her so

It's the final countdown

Depressing days. The sky is grey. It's been raining for two days. Access to My Opera blogs from mainland China has been blocked for a week.

When I first signed up here, I was struck by the number of Chinese bloggers in this community. My instinct told me that something unpleasant would happen sooner or later. You see, Chinese Internet rules require bloggers to use their real names when setting up an account with a hosting site.

There is a reason why, back in Februray, I had wished the German film "The Lives of Others" could win an Oscar and rejoiced when it did. It was later reported that the film was banned in mainland China and that some well-informed Chinese traveled to Hong Kong during the Chinese New Year to see the film, while others used other means.

There is a reason why there was once a time when the English language and Rock-n-Roll hits were the most beautiful things in the world to me.

"The Final Countdown" was a smashing hit released by the Swedish rock group Europe in 1986. I recorded it from the radio channels of Hong Kong, which had not long before been unjammed by the government due to its pursuit of a new open door policy. I played the song again and again to help release the anger and frustration in my chest.

I knew I was going away no matter what.

For a long time I didn't know that I had some Dutch heritage in my blood, which probably explains why I had a hard time conforming and putting up shit. I was, however, keenly aware that there were other ways of living. English, I studied hard. Rock-n-roll hit songs, I would shout along once I obtained a copy and figured out the lyrics. But a passport was hard to come by, so was the all important visa stamp.

Heavy memory. Hard times.