There are tunes stuck in your head that, despite all efforts, refuse to leave. Submerged, beyond conscious thought, resurfacing when you least expect or want it. There you are, hiding from the flying saucer people behind the refrigerator, when without warning you start belting out "Little Drummer Boy". Because after several Christmas seasons it's so firmly planted that you cannot help yourself. Your friends who are hiding there with you look askance. What the heck, they seem to think, has Dingo Carruthers really lost it? What was he thinking?!?
The flying saucer people feel welcomed by all of you singing "Little Drummer Boy" at the top of your lungs. It's touching. Parrumpapa pum.
Better remember the lyrics, son, they may save your life.
There are some tunes you know.
One of them is this old classic, familiar to millions of people, which sounds bizarre yet homey recontextualized for military purposes. If you are Chinese, click 'play'. You'll be glad you did.
You are now mentally voicing "gongsi, gongsi, gongsi, gongsi" right now. You can't help it.
And your colleagues at Amalgamated Saltmines are looking at you funny. They are unfamiliar with new years music. They've never even seen those engagingly silly comedies that the HK movie industry puts out every year.
Post Scriptum: Dingo Carruthers is what the hippo with the walking stick calls me. He misremembers us robbing banks together and getting away at high speed on the motorbike and sidecar. I keep telling me he's got me mistaken for someone else.
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