​In the summer of 2014 I travelled with Mashiat Rabbani and Jeffrey Wong to Dunedin, New Zealand for what would be a mostly unremarkable debate tournament. We didn't come first and we didn't end up last. A day of rest was scheduled mid-way through the competition, and as our team would proceed no further, we had the luxury to do whatever we wanted. Mashiat said she wanted to hike up to Larnach Castle, on a mountainside overlooking the city, and I agreed to go with her. 

On the first days of 2017 I was alone in a cabin in upstate New York trying my hardest to write. I had not yet disabused myself of the Walden fantasy, and I wanted a quiet place where I could see stars. The sun rose at seven and set at five: I took short excursions in the morning, and in the afternoon I would lie on my back, peering out the window at an odd angle, and read. My retreat was meant to last five days. I made generous estimates for food and drink, and most of the time I wanted for nothing. Much to my disappointment the neighbourhood was not deserted; many had put up “no trespassing” signs, and although I didn’t see anybody I felt cheated of my solitude. It occurred to me that I had perhaps not paid enough. What I wanted in truth was some sort of secluded mountain temple, and to be fair, if I owned one I wouldn’t put it up for rent.​

Xu Xi, Dear Hong Kong (Penguin, 2017), 144pp.

As I was reading Xu Xi’s latest book, Dear Hong Kong, I recalled an episode from my youth. When I was in primary two, about eight years old, I was introduced to a group of children two years my senior. They were by a large margin the best kids in my school, and my mother had hoped I would tag along and learn something. The best among that circle was John, obviously, since he was perfect. When he graduated primary school, his mother sent him to Dulwich.

Last week I wrote a preview of Regarding O, a theatrical production by Herstory Polygon, for Still / Loud magazine. Now that I've seen it, I have some more thoughts. (Spoilers ahead.)

In the early afternoon of July 1st 2017, China's president Xi Jinping got on an airplane to go home. Here's what he missed:

In the line-up for this year's Art Basel, nothing is more provocative—and downright subversive—than a mixed-media collage by newcomer Justin Bergman titled “Beyond Art Basel: a Guide for Wanderers.” 

​Sir David Baragwanath, a New Zealand judge and former president of the United Nations Special Tribunal for Lebanon, said that terrorism should be prosecutable in UN tribunals, despite challenges in defining the crime and gaining international consensus.

​When viewed from afar, it was not entirely clear what Jonathan Scales was doing. He wielded two short sticks—which looked exactly like a pair of nunchuks, disconnected—and did a stirring motion, dipping them into two gleaming metal bowls. And there he was: poking and prodding, whipping and brushing. The bowls were angled towards him and one couldn’t see their interiors. The only certainty was that, when Scales stirred his magic cauldrons, with motions that appeared all but frictionless, out came music.

​On Friday HKU law professor Cora Chan warned against legislation of Basic Law Article 23, saying it may become a “connecting door” to mainland China’s concepts of national security.

Chan also cast doubt on CE candidate Woo Kwok-hing’s proposal to legislate Basic Law Article 22—a law prohibiting mainland authorities from interfering with HK affairs—saying it cannot allay fears brought by Article 23.