My Poor Brain.

in a jar

2011-02-02T03:36:00.001+08:00

Life in a jar,

Shake it up,

Pop the lid,

Watch it come apart,

Boiled tar,

In a cup,

Like a pit,

Watch it stall the start,

Drove a car,

Short circuit cut,

Long trip,

Watch time fail the part,

Stage star,

Stuck in a rut,

Fall by slip,

Watch life burn art,

Another farce,

Too much guts,

No medical kit,

Watch for a broken heart,

And Suddenly, A Field Of Dreams

2010-11-19T21:52:00.003+08:00

Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday

I've got a lot of things to learn.

Said I would and I'll be leaving one day,

Before my heart starts to burn.

Dead stillness. Not a gust, a puff a fanfare, a flourish. Not a sound, a whisper, a peep. No movement in the fields, none that is at least visible, no vehicles passing nearby, no invasion from other fields plying their trade or smoking their cigarettes. The sun shines bright, menacing on the world below while those who have scattered elsewhere continue about their work in silent defiance.

Times are hard when things have got no meaning

I've found a key upon the floor

Maybe you and I will not believe in

The things we find behind the door

I'm drenched head to toe in sweat and I continue to leak and perspire profusely in the hot sun. Never will I begrudge these workers with the smear of lower-classness, definitely not now as they go about their work contently while my life continues to end one minute and sun ray at a time, turning me from the prime of my youthful exuberance into a stream of melted chocolate requiring oxygen and water every other minute. Dizziness; the heat is overwhelming. Take a break, says dad as he goes to talk to one of the chili men from yesterday. I do as university taught me and gladly oblige.

The trudging turns into a stroll, the stroll into a jaunt half-skip. Past the chili, past the corn, past the sweet potato right on to the back of the farm onto a little elevation in the land lined with a fence and trees. I pick a tree to nestle under and call home, for the time being at the very least, and escape the heat.

Stand by me,

Nobody knows the way it's gonna be

The sun ducks behind the clouds to offer a moment of reprieve. Laid out before me like simple, neatly assembled Lego pieces lies the farm in its entirety. Directly in front of me and to either side are the plots of sweet potato, some ripe for harvesting as the workers grin in my direction and busy themselves to my left. Further down field the corn is clearly visible, proud and tall in the sun, a welcome maze for those seeking solitude. The dirt road cuts through the farm horizontally after the corn, beyond which thousands of chilis are being grown and beyond that is the small watermelon patch in its subterreanean modesty.

I can see my father's vision, the entire land bursting with plants and vegetables ripe for harvesting and ready to be sold back to the people. A healthy, non-corporate, community-conscious form of income, a vision I know he struggled to keep pace with both physically and mentally. The sun slowly creeps back from the other side, inching it's way across the farm until it warms my toes, but the rest of me is well shaded. Besides as I've discovered, if you can't hear the heat, you can't feel the heat.

Dreams, visions, ideas. I once heard in a song that true progress means matching the world to the vision in our heads, but instead we end up changing the vision. How many times have I done that, how many times have we all? This modern life forces everyone to yield, to conform, not to a set of ideals in the political sense but to a system, one which is perpetuated by its victims. A system that grinds away at it's workers struggling to make a living, to pay the bills, pay the car loan, feed the children, support the family while all the while climbing, reaching, grabbing and taking every last dollar and cent to achieve some semblance of a picturesque and comfortable life. A system that confuses drive, determination, ambition and happiness with financial success, and although this rhetoric I spew has been heard before, I'm not willing to cave, eventhough there are a million else out there who'd intelligently disagree.

But the world demands payment in bloodsweatandtears even for my own vision to be met, for we are all dreamers seeking to mend our reality accordingly. The agrarian world is made for me, or it may not be. Negotiation. Dreams. work.

"When they say a thousand and one times that we're dreamers, that we're romantics, that we're incorrigible idealists, that we think the impossible; then a thousand and one times we must answer that yes, we are"

The sweat from my brow drops onto my eyelids startling me awake. A reminder of now, of tomorrow. My feet begin to get restless, restless with the fact that the world I've known until now is gone; only those fixed points from that epoch have carried forward into this new age, those beautifully patient things I can't live without, patient in their static but evolutionary positions. Like swallowing a bitter pill those halcyon days are gone, buried deep in the sands of the mind for memory serves to remind us that there's a reason for visions and realities to combine, for memories and ideas to recreate and reproduce themselves into tomorrow.

Day Two, of starting over.

I Learned Nothing

2010-11-18T20:56:00.002+08:00

If the sea should swallow up my house,

I will turn the rooftop inside out

A faint breeze tempers the scorching sun, burning bright but not unkindly overhead, shining benevolently over this sleepy seaside town. The wind rouses the vegetation to life; corn and chili plants begin to stir in quite contentment of the weather. Enclosed in a reserve area off the coast, hidden away from sight of the town and sea but near enough to smell the salt in the air, as the breeze picks up in speed and brings the ocean into the farm.

All the elements, I do not fear

But I fall apart when you appear

The rigid rows of corn lined in single files on numbered acres; a sea of corny goodness spilling out before the eyes like yellow-ish MnM's on a plate. The plot of land presents pathways along the plants, pathways for inspection as well as introspection for those seeking kernels of wisdom. I could not resist a corny joke. But in the searing heat amongst corn that challenges for height nothing but green can be seen in every direction except up, as my yellow Phua Chu Kang boots invade the cadence treading carefully forward towards a natural clearing in the field.

I reach the space in between pathways and plants created by a misplaced planting and crouch down, shaded by the leaves, ears of corn and my Asian sombrero. I'm cheating as I wanted to get away from farmer's monologue; my father and his farmer friends are talking chili and my presence is far from required, for when adorned in my boots, hat and long clothes I'm just another worker on a purported lunch break. Or the farmer's son. Either way, I'm surplus.

Nobody said it was easy.

I've brought along A Fine Frenzy and Coldplay to help indulge in the moment as all else I have for company is nature, calming and agitating at the same time. I'm a city dreamer living in trees in an urban jungle, playing music that no one will listen to, writing words that no one will read and dreaming visions no one will see. The agrarian world is made for me, or it may not be. I hold my phone like a tasbih, not as a symbol for modernity or it's ilk but connectivity to a place I know, tempted by full reception. Sometimes I can't help but feel disconnected from the world. For better or worse it depends, but for today and those preceding I will attempt to make sense of these last few weeks, and the many weeks more to come.

Day One.

It's Not Lost On Me

2010-11-17T22:58:00.002+08:00

as the plucking continues

Shimmering in waves.

In the comfort of sounds there is

No bind

Merely pencil and paper.

The irony is not lost, as

Fault lines

cracks appear

casting shadow

of doubt, of dis integrity.

Filter cigarettes

and assumptions,

thoughtless deeds derive deeper meaning

incarcerated lungs, docile bodies.

Imagine images

and see them

from here

Tabled separation blurs the view,

But she's not looking anyways.

Originally written on a cigarette box

Feeling A Moment

2010-09-14T23:39:00.003+08:00

Shallow - Hurt

Josh got me started on this train of thought. There we were, outside my place having a conversation of 'nothings' when the rambles stumble upon books. Josh, in pondering stance, proposes how one's favourite book(s) would be reflective of their character; as the story in the book is told it begins to unravel itself in a tentatively sophistic way where the reader's own projections intertwine itself in the story. In a nutshell how it's plausible to read into one's character by having a look at the books that person reads, and how those same books are the texts that form one's identity (Arts students, there's a term here somewhere). Just like music.

That paragraph was full of puns

After indulging in a conversation of books I went upstairs to have an aesthetic staring session with my personal library which made me realise, due to the feigned trials and tribulations of university life the rate at which I read has severely decreased. Plenty to read but too many untouched. For whatever reason.

(Sleight of hand comments)

Bringing it back, Josh asked me what books I would consider to have in some way or another played a significant role in character development, or the ones that I relate to best. After groaning about how I could only pick one the obvious choice was obvious. Over here though, I'm going to indulge a bit. I also note how all these books were read many years ago through the ages of 14-17.

Before we start though:

"They remain slaves because they cannot see what is beautiful in this world."

-Muhammad Iqbal

1) The Catcher in The Rye - J.D Salinger

Easy first choice, one that sprang to mind immediately. I remember being given a photocopied copy from my literature teacher when I was 14; she told me how Holden reminded her of me and that I should have a good laugh reading it. I'm not what she meant by that at the time, it could have meant a multitude of things but after reading it I went out and got myself a personal copy because of how much I wish Holden was a friend of mine, if he wasn't a friend already or even whether I was him. As he has to millions of boys growing up, Holden Caulfield spoke to me on how it feels to be alive, and how it barely matters. The ultimate bildungsroman.

"The trouble with girls is, if they like a boy, no matter how big a bastard he is, they'll say he has an inferiority complex, and if they don't like him, no matter how nice a guy he is, or how big an inferiority complex he has, they'll say he's conceited."

I laugh hard re-reading that.

Sure it's a ubiquitous choice for a guy but at the end of the day just because it's relates to a thousand other lost and sorry souls on this earth doesn't discount the fact that it's something I hold on closely to. And that's all that matters anyways.

2) The Autobiography of Malcolm X

Sixteen, dreaming in colour, politically ripe and angst driven. The perfect companion to set the world on fire with. What was most intriguing about the book was Malcolm X's depth of character, how apart he was from the image painted of him of past and possibly present media. It's a tough book to describe, but it reminds me of a quote from Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine:

"A good song should make you want to tap your feet and get with your girl. A great song should destroy cop cars and set fire to the suburbs. I’m only interested in writing great songs."

Rethink your world.

3) Anthills of the Savannah by Chinua Achibe

My mum introduced me to this author years ago; she had read Things Fall Apart and I've since become a fan. After the debacle that was my 8 months A-Levels experience, a second shot at literature studying on my own (and without the misguided guidance of inept teachers, heh) gave me the luxury of picking my own books to study. Anthills of the Savannah is a book that's right up my alley: friendship and politics, one that is told with real majesty of the English language coupled with a mastery over emotion that had me staring at the book and wondering how the words of a stranger telling a fictional story managed to manipulate my feelings. But we all know that feeling, as well all know a book that succeeds in doing that to us. Anthills sits on the top shelf and one that I should definitely re-read more often. Democracy and dictatorship, like kaya and peanut butter.

4) The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho

Not one of my most favourite books of all time; in an era of hope long ago it was more resonant but now it has a tendency to be overwhelming in it's feel-goodness. The significance in the book however, lies in the how i was introduced to the book. Nadia, an awesome friend of mine whom I haven't seen or heard from in ages in fact, made mention of it many years ago suggesting I should read it and then go look for treasure. Enjoying the incessant flow of happiness and rainbows that book seems to possess, on her birthday I bought her a copy on top of the one she already owned as a thank you gesture because sometimes feeling shamelessly happy is something to be celebrated. Thinking about it now six years later in the isolation of my room with good tunes in my ears and illuminated by the light from my laptop, I think I finally get it.

5) The Motorcycle Diaries by Che Guevara

A book that will attack you with revolutionary fervour if you discard and disregard it. It's one of those books that can be read from a number of perspectives, in the context of it's author or in isolation of his fame. Either way his ability to describe his surroundings in the travel log are staggering, creating a real world that existed years ago in my head that I will never visit. His medical and social observations of the South American continent are heartfelt and emotional as the raw beauty of the physical world and the harsh reality of modern life shout out in opposition. If I read the book without knowing who Che was eventually going to be, my response would have been the same: this is a guy who is going to grow up and do awesome things.

"This is not a story of heroic feats, or merely the narrative of a cynic; at least I do not mean it to be. It is merely a glimpse of two lives running parallel for a time, with similar hopes and convergent dreams."

Childhood heroes will never die.

It should be mentioned as some kind of disclaimer that these books are not necessarily the best books I've read: Shantaram, A Farewell To Arms, The Outsider, Candide, The Godfather, A Man in The Dark and The New York Trilogy jump out and say "Hello!" when I think of great books. The ones that I mentioned here are those that I remember reading and having a profound impact on my character or something along those metaphysical lines. Again regretfully I have no been reading nearly as much as I want to, nor been reading the books that I feel I should read; my younger and more energetic days provided for many forays into the world of political treatises ranging from Edward Said (I now find it quite strange to have owned three of his titles before entering uni, here I lump blame on my mother), Fidel Castro (awesome reads all the same) and many other ancient political wannabes/philosophers. The fiction section of my library is slowly developing yet still in the works, something that I rue and a gap that I wish I had filled in between Roald Dahl and Jalaladin Rumi. Rue but alas, it's not like it was noneducational. Except for the philosophy phase, maybe.

And now to end with a quote.

"There's a truth deeper than experience. It's beyond what we see, or even what we feel. It's an order of truth that separates the profound from the merely clever, and the reality from the perception. We're helpless, usually, in the face of it; and the cost of knowing it, like the cost of knowing love, is sometimes greater than any heart would willingly pay. It doesn't always help us to love the world, but it does prevent us from hating the world. And the only way to know that truth is to share it, from heart to heart"

From Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts.

Your turn.

It Could Be The Hindu Times

2010-09-10T07:31:00.003+08:00

Oh when the sunshine beckons to ya
And your wings begin to unfold
the thoughts you bring and the songs you sing
are gonna keep me from the cold

And if the soul is hidden among ya
and its words may rule my soul
you can fill me up with what you've got
cos my heart's meant to keep it all

Eid Mubarak everyone! The festivities will draw away the words temporarily. Peace, love and rock n' roll.

Aircrash

2010-09-07T23:28:00.004+08:00

If I had never stopped playing the piano, I would have never picked up the guitar.I hated the regimented and chore-like study of the instrument and eventually switched to the flexible and effervescent six strings. If I had never learned the guitar, I would never have thought to myself that I wasn't good enough to play in a band and decide to pick up the drums instead. I would never have played in that first university band back in first year with Peng Yew and Amir, and I would never have been called by Tristan to audition for his band early in second year. And I wouldn't now be playing drums in a band called Crossing Boundaries.

Trading one skill set for another. Seems like a fair deal, especially since the drums has turned out to be my favourite instrument/outlet for expression.

But sometimes I wish I never gave up playing the piano, so that in times like these I can sit in my room and play Amsterdam to myself.

In the Meantime...

2010-09-05T18:07:00.003+08:00

He Feels Bad - Helmet

Resuming normal(ish) service. Although Facebook refuses to import my blog. Heh. So I copy and paste.

Now I'm one of those people who pretends to have a theory or a philosophy or an idea surrounding everything. It's methodological even if I may favour spontaneity and randomness; a facade. It's all about the facade. Or something.

At the time of writing it's 6.20pm. Due to the abstinence of food for the entire day, any and every topic of conversation around this time will usually surround food. So I'm chatting with Rose, and it's nasi lemak. Then nasi kerabu. And suddenly curry puffs pop into the conversation.

The curry puff, karipap, or epok-epok down south where I'm from, is a beautiful Malaysian thing of bountifully edible awesomeness. I've wittingly or unwittingly managed to eschew commercial curry puffs like the ones sold at Old Chang Kee or Ikea even; this may not altogether be a bright idea because it's never good to disregard food on the basis of commercial hegemony = degradation of quality but oh look, I'm digressing. Some of the best food is obviously found out on the streets, those weird little mobile stalls littered all over the nation on random streets or in pasar malams.

Having said that though, with curry puffs it's tricky. When one stalks the rows of shops in a bazaar, the safest way to identify a good curry puff (in the event that you're fasting and still ineligible to eat) amongst the myriad vendors is to obviously look for the one stall that sells only curry puffs. After poking it to test the pastry, the best thing one can do after that is to pray that it doesn't taste like death with potatoes. Some curry puffs have a tendency to taste astonishingly bad; it's not a safe dish in the sense where an average quality of taste is assured.

So yesterday my family and I, because I'm also part of said family, decided to head out to Kampung Penchala to check out the bazaar there. Aside from having this quaint, sleepy kampung feel, we stumbled on this one place that sold curry puffs that looked semi decent. Now as a unit we have very high standards of curry puffs, collectively preferring the sweet potato kind epitomised in a little puff of pastry awesomeness sold far away in Ampang. That magical pastry has since moved on to greater pastures. So my mum being my mum/punjabi, decided to buy 6 curry puffs, one for each member of the family. Thus if it sucked, it wouldn't be wasted.

So we get home and a shower later and it's buka puasa time. There lie the 6 curry puffs, delicately placed on a plate in the middle of the table, outshining the fruits that my Fit For Life parents seem to have an insatiable desire for. A customary glass of water and I'm curry puff bound. I realise now that as I write this it may be leading up to a description of the most apocalyptic curry puff the world has ever seen but in actuality it was merely a decent one. What this translates into is that the curry puff didn't suck, and if it doesn't suck it can be consumed for hours on end.

We all proceeded to take our respective shares while eying the others hungrily. My parents, being awesome and understanding the nature of four hungry kids forgo theirs. Us in the family, we're weird. We're a strange ass bunch who don't understand what it's like to have a normal dinner conversation; if anyone out there has ever had a meal with my family they'll know what I'm talking about. So when it comes down to the last two curry puffs and who should get them, a silent war breaks out amongst the four of us. Everyone wants a full piece but inevitably we'll have to divide and conquer. Thus the spoils are shared, unfortunately.

So I should have mentioned that this theory has no conclusion. What I merely wanted to demonstrate was the delicate balance between buying many curry puffs from a new seller and risking them tasting terrible thus wasting food, or buy a modest, almost frugal amount and risk sibling rivalry/genocide. We get along well enough but when it comes to food, we go apeshit. I forgive my brother for breaking my telescope, my racing car, my Buzz Lightyear, My Playstation, for throwing my RHCP album onto the gravel, for losing the PS3 controllers but not for finishing an entire pot of kheer before I even got a spoon. AN ENTIRE POT.

The cycle began again today. Earlier I came home from the bazaar again with curry puffs from a new vendor. Everyone eyed each other nervously.

A Blinding Scare, So Cauterising

2010-09-05T00:59:00.001+08:00

Micah - Russian Circles

I use commas a lot.

Maybe it's affecting me more than it should, more than I should allow it to. Not in a way where it annoys me to no end but rather like something that needs to be said. Maybe if it was someone else, something else during a different epoch I might not have cared. But a rebuttal, a response. An attack on my sensitivities as a person and as an individual where some mutual accord of respect should be present, or even as an acquaintance or a friend where sometimes, it's just moot. Maybe I terasa sikit la, but when the thought sticks with you before going to bed and is there again when you wake up, it merits a third thought.

The benchmark of intelligence. Stupidity. Conservation. Happiness. Of character and integrity, of brains and boobs. The thing about stereotypes and working methods is that yes, sometimes you can easily fit a fool into a category. Sometimes people really do make it easy for others to place them within a frame, within a mould that fits comfortably in their mind thus making the world an easier one to be angry about. But you know, other times a little slack would be much appreciated before shallow judgement is passed. Again, I'm not one to care but this has occurred more than once as it is, plus I'm annoyed and was looking for something to blog about.

I started reading The Outsider by Albert Camus again, partly for an assignment and partly for the heck of reading it for a second time. Mersault elevates the physical world over social and emotional aspects of life. The detail given to the description of his surroundings surpasses his care for his emotional attachment at that present moment in time, furthermore his emotions are tied to the prevalent physical climate. The irrationality of human thought and existence swirls in and out of the text shamelessly as I sit in the hairdresser's getting a hair cut. So I think how half the time the preoccupation rests with the physical, with the tangible, with the corporeal; a preoccupation with structure as opposed to substance. Because yes, human thought is largely irrational and when it manifests itself physically the effect is compounded and makes even less sense than it already does.

It's like something I read in The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky (thanks Najah): we're the only creatures on earth with free will, or at least free will to the largest degree, the only creatures that can think, question and analyse and half the time we're trying so hard to do the exact opposite. I think that's just it. One may be pigeon-holed in order for the world to make more sense, but as all Arts students are guilty of doing, a little bit of bitter over-analysis leads to something profoundly stupid, like poststructuralism. Not discounting social studies all together, but the next time someone presents an equation for the way people appear to operate and behave, I'm going to take it with a pinch of salt. And sugar. And cinnamon. And then turn it into a cake. And eat it.

"Love me for my mind, cuz I'm a dangerous heart" - Daniel Johns of Silverchair. He's only half right.

Cheating

2010-09-03T02:04:00.003+08:00

One Way Mule - Silverchair

Cheating, because I wrote this ages ago for a WRT class. I like it. I post it. It counts.

The shape doesn't hold as well after copying and pasting, so where there's a slash in between words, it counts as a new sentence. Can be read vertically as two poems and horizontally as one.

But / Hold

This / Fast

Was not / from you

A normal / sensation

Brownie plate to eat / destroys your sanctum

Beware the spaces that dissolve / temporal highs invented kind

Deep into the lines buried in the sands of the mind / stay aware in your here and now grounded to the earth

Leaking like a brown faucet into a brewing cup that storms and swirls in time and space / suffer an escape if you wish into transient facades that will fade away soon

Numbers and symbols attack the senses as you munch / until you can eat no more, think no more, feel no more

Upon the gooey chocolate / faking control of your mind body

Feed your appetite / kill your appetite

Devoid / or lose

Of / your

Feel / self

Experiment

2010-08-23T20:23:00.002+08:00

Abdul Mateen's idea.

Lets play a game. Write, write anything that goes through your head, pausing not to gather thoughts but instead letting your fingers channel your thoughts straight onto your keyboard. Release your brain-finger filters and forget beautifying any piece of writing that escapes you for the next few minutes. Just write whatever it is you are thinking about. I've already started, no pauses, no breaks just unfiltered typing about anything and everything. Trying to string a coherent thought process uninterruptedly is quite a tricky thing, we all have thoughts that flow through our minds, most of which coherent yet somewhere between thinking about lunch or dinner, your mind manages to break a single thought and implant one more there. Like thinking about how to get to uni today, but halfway through thinking about the route your going to take, you begin to wonder who will be there, is it going to rain today, why can't i always get what i want, i hate that person, i wish i could go to Japan. it goes on and on. The wandering mind is a playground, as wide as your own imagination makes it. Which lead me to this decision to partake in this experiment. Does everyones mind work the same? Are our thought processes similar? Do we all think about love, hate, happiness, sadness, and everything on the opposite ends of a spectrum? or are there people who just think linearly in ways which would bore the hell out of me. Is thinking about one thing really thinking about one thing? Im sure your thoughts can be interrupted by your own thoughts. So join me, i hope at least people will partake in this. Just type whatever it is that comes into your mind, no pauses. Spellcheck at the end dammit. Do not break the flow, just roll with it, and lets see how our thought processes function.

Man my stomach's all weird and queasy. Must've been something I ate, or didn't eat. I can't tell especially since i just gorged down 3 different types of rice. We were late coming home again, Usman dropped me off. Stupid jam. It really threw my tummy off. I could go own talking about my tummy. Funny isn't it? Or not really. I don't think I'm very funny. Or I could be, all a matter of perspective I guess. Now Shimmy, that's a funny guy. He'll make you laugh so hard and this is the part where I insert a metaphor but before I could think of one I wrote that instead. Metaphors. They're shameful. That's a fantastic song, Shameful Metaphors by Chevelle. Their lyrics are so cryptic but I think that one makes a little more sense. More sense then the title does anyways. I feel fine. My tummy is settling. I wan't coffee. With some spekuloos. Google it. It's an awesome biscuit. This rant is filled with food, I guess it's influenced by the time at which I'm writing this. I believe this sorta resonates together with the "running with the referent" class exercise we did for WRT one or two weeks back. Is it wrong or against the rules to correct my grammar? Okay the phone's ringing.

K is for Kheer

2010-08-22T12:09:00.004+08:00

So there's this thing. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Spend enough time with someone and they get to you. Phrases, mannerisms, speech patterns, gestures, posture, quirky eating habits etc.

For example if I'm not mistaken Jerry and Tristan are responsible for the proliferation of the term 'buddy', as is Shaneil is responsible for 'mate'. Mateen is responsible for the deadpan looks of Josh and I (I think) and Fahmy is responsible for the freak face. But I figure there are other instances where one unconsciously picks up the habits of another, such as a tendency to pick up the guitar, the strange call of the pool table, the urge to read or the need to assert oneself.

Taking a step back these traits that rub off one another are easily identifiable; I'd give an example if not for the 'thing'. I find it somewhere in between heart-warming and self-satisfying to note the (positive or negative) ways that I have influenced someone but at the same time teetering at the edge of a loss of identity as that someone else has been able to amalgamate a character trait into themselves. Now is that legitimate reasoning or am I indulging in my own narcissistic bullshit?

All this was sorta sparked off by something I read this morning from someone (yes, a lot of anonymity but no, it's not you Mat); it wasn't a piece that was odd because it was out of the blue and uncharacteristic but rather it was a result of a developing trend, one who's origins are easy to trace.

I guess it was more of an observation more than anything else. Or I'm struggling to articulate exactly what I'm thinking. Or both. It's been a weird, semi-productive morning.

"Is Not Made Of Tuesdays"

2010-08-17T22:43:00.007+08:00

*the above was quoted from Tristan some time ago.

The Good, The Bad and The Queen - Northern Whale

I lost my phone today.

So I made a t-shirt. Which I will wear tomorrow.

It's symmetrically incompetent. Spare me.

Who would've thought it was so difficult to write 'r' on a t-shirt? Or draw an x on a smiley?

This is the fourth t-shirt I've managed to desecrate, the others being the wikipedia protester, the"Four legs good, two legs bad" Animal Farm shirt and Beatles Love.

Peace.

The Fallen are the Virtuous Among Us

2010-08-14T20:14:00.005+08:00

It's not trivial, or maybe a wee bit but that's besides the point.

Collapse (Post-Amerika) - Rise Against

So as you can see, I've got a new watch. Now I haven't owned a watch since I was ten or twelve, so yeah this is kind of a big deal. I remember losing my Casio G-Shock watch at Kuala Kubu Bahru at a waterfall after taking it off to go swimming. Not very bright yeah, but I remember it being my dad's idea. The fact that it was a Casio indicates just how long ago it was; those watches were all the rage back then.

Anyways, this new watch that I've been blessed with fell into my lap after playing a small acoustic show with the band at the Malaysia Something Online Entrepreneur Something Something at Mid Valley this afternoon as part of a goodie bag courtesy of Philip Tay's incredibly cute sister of an organiser. Philip you jackass.

Along with a shirt and some outdated X-Men Origins stuff, this watch was easily the coolest thing in the bag. Why? Because it's green, yellow, from KFC and has Zinger Time written on one side. The only watch that could be cooler is this:

One that I will own one day.

So there I was with a cool new watch, a simple little device which has eluded my ownership for years and then a funny question strikes me whilst having an awesome post-buka dinner at home.

"Hey everyone, what wrist do you wear your watches on?"

Here I should probably mention that I'm left-handed; nature or nurture either way it's my parents fault. It's a curse and a great pick up line all rolled in to one.

At the table the only two left-handers are my dad and I, and everyone replied that they wear their watches on their left wrist. This got me thinking a tad bit, as I remember wearing my watch of my left wrist as well simply because all the right-handers were doing it. Although it did make for uncomfortable writing at times it seemed like proper watch etiquette, if such a thing were to exist. This was until my dad brought back the most common fault underpinning society and progress:

"You wear the watch on your left hand because the dial thing is on the right of the watch."

That's right. The right-handed world serves another forehand right into the face of everyone who is predominantly of the left (heh), forcing us to conform and remain obsequious to the will of the universe. First scissors, then rulers, cheese graters, guitars and now watches. Now I've got no choice but to wear the watch on my left wrist as the right handed world does or suffer to live in a world where time does not exist. To try and wear it on my right wrist would most certainly make the angle for adjusting time most difficult thus inducing carpal tunnel syndrome or AIDS. What kinda jingoistic choice is that? Do left handed watches even exist? WHY MUST WE CONTINUE TO SUFFER?!

I'll probably end up wearing the watch anyways. Peace.

Lullabies to Paralyse

2010-08-13T22:38:00.003+08:00

On the Headphones - Mustard Gas by The Dear Hunter

A flurry, a swan song, heralding and end or a beginning. My headphones are slipping off my head slowly. This awesome pair of auditory joyness is threatening to detach itself from my skull; to think a haircut would put it in an even more precarious position. Yeah forget the haircut.

Cassie - Flyleaf

Do you believe in God, written on a bullet? As my phone goes buzz, another jumper threatening to free fall makes agony known, one that everyone is well aware of as it is. So jump, everyone seems to be doing it. Everyone knows a jumper, or someone who thinks they've got the mettle to jump.

Pffffft.

Right up to this paragraph everything is still disjointed and non-sequitur, yet ramble on, ramble on before my tea runs out. Lemongrass and tea, tonight's another night of firsts where I seem to be discarding my -ine addictions. Or...

Lately - The Ataris

All i'm really trying to do is get back into the swing of writing on a blog. All the writing i've been doing (WRT classes aside) has been dedicated to laconic and dull assignments about Freud and post-modernism and global political economy and all whole bunch of other second-hand theories that I feign to forget.

Three days into fasting, barring a venture into the world of gastric pain and suffering all is well. Three days without a cigarette, three days without a cup of coffee hence my -ine addictions seem to be falling away. If i can last an entire month without smokes or indulging in excessive cups of caffeine then at the very least I can lay claim to the fact that the only reason I smoke or drink coffee is for the sole reason that I enjoy doing it and not as a victim of addiction. Thus if at anytime I wanted to change the intention of my actions, or the actions themselves, I would not be barred by a physical craving, at least that's the idea. They say the first threshold is three days, then a week, then three weeks, then a month. It's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll, as these last few weeks seem to continuously indicate.

So I'm tempted to jump.

Stare at the Sun - Thrice

Fresh Pots

2010-08-12T20:08:00.002+08:00

On the speakers - Goodbye by Army of Anyone

Yes, it's a fresh pot.

Here I am, trying to revive this blog before it officially becomes inactive for an entire year. There's something about leaving one year of non-activity that seems foreboding, and considering the fact that I haven't killed off this blog yet only further proves the need to keep it open. Either that or I'm merely running out of things to do again, or spaces for self-reflection of some ailing sort are shrinking. Or shirking. Shrirnking.

So Back Somewhere, or to nowhere at all. A step into frailty, of security, of ingenuity and incredulity. Venture into tomorrow or next year as some may say, for another round of happiness and sorrow has arrived for everyone still at the table. One year ago and it was the beginning of the second semester of my second year and now we're on the verge of graduating. A random and isolated conversation with my buddy Kuan Fook Face over in Melbourne serves as a reminder of how far, literally, the bunch of us have come in these crazy span of years, yet we still kill the old way.

As I'm trying to prove now. More to follow. Hopefully.

Civil Society Joint Merdeka Message

2009-08-31T16:51:00.000+08:00

Civil Society Joint Merdeka Message
2009-08-30

The Cow-Head Lesson for Merdeka: Deligitimize Violence and Hatred

We, the undersigned civil society organizations are shocked, angered
and saddened by the “Cow-Head protest” in Shah Alam last Friday, 28
August 09, against a proposed Hindu temple in Section 23 of the city.
The carrying of the head of a freshly slaughtered cow, a sacred animal to
the Hindus, and the unveiled threat of blood shed on the eve of
Merdeka celebration suggest that all Malaysians need to reflect deeply
about our 52 years of nationhood, and the clarion call of 1Malaysia

From the outset, these heinous acts of crime perpetrated by the irresponsible
few must NEVER be seen as a conflict between the two faiths or the
two faith communities. All major spiritual traditions, Islam and
Hinduism included, uphold peace and human dignity as their common and
core values. Our spirituality and love for humanity mandates us for
the perpetual quest for peace and abhorrence of all forms of hatred
and civil disorder.

The Shah Alam incident sadly reveals that violence and hatred are
still inadequately delegitimized in our society. We exhort all
Malaysians to unite in our joint efforts to decry and delegitimize
violence and hatred to prevent any individual or grouping from
resorting to intimidation or provocation when faced with any
town-planning disputes or rows of similar nature.

We the undersigned, taking cognizance of the above, do hereby :

1. URGE that all disputes in civil society must be resolved through
peaceful means such as peaceful demonstrations, rational dialogues,
extensive consultations and legal suits. The Selangor State
Government’s plan to hold a town hall meeting to facilitate
communication and engagement with all stakeholders is highly
commendable.

2. CONDEMN in the strongest possible language any act to humiliate and
intimidate any ethno-religious community, in this case the irreligious
and irresponsible display of a cow head. In the Shah Alam incident,
not only the Hindus are humiliated and hurt but also all thinking
Malaysians – Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, Sikh, those of other
spiritual traditions and atheist. We particularly share the pain and
anguish of the Shah Alam Hindu community.

3. URGE all religious authorities, community leaders and political
parties to unreservedly condemn the perpetrators of the reprehensible
“Cow-Head” act. Every racial and religious bigot should be shamed
and distanced by the general public especially by their
ethno-religious community which they seek to represent. Political
parties must also take disciplinary action against members involved in
inciting hatred. This would deprive them the pleasure and
gratification of self-righteousness and
heroism. Legal punishment alone may prove inadequate because it may
instead grant the offenders the self-perceived honour of martyrdom

4. SUPPORT a thorough investigation of those responsible for the
“Cow-Head” protest for threatening violence (not sedition) on both the
local Hindu community and the elected State Government of Selangor.
Threats of violence, for whatever reason, has no place in a civilized
society. Violence must be condemned and can only be completely
delegitimized when society has zero tolerance for it and every
offender is appropriately punished.

5. EXPRESS shock and dismay at the failure of the police force to
stop the protestors from issuing their threats of bloodshed. An
independent investigation on professional negligence should be
immediately initiated to examine these policing failures of a
potentially fulminating racial and religious crisis. This incident
among others further highlights the dire importance and urgent need
for an Independent Police Complaints and Misconduct Commission
(IPCMC). The IPCMC is a must if the Najib Administration is genuinely
committed to peace in Malaysia.

6. CALL on all Malaysians to heed our plea to completely delegitimize
violence and hatred and to strive towards its elimination from our
public life. Let this be our joint resolution for our nation’s
forthcoming Merdeka anniversary. Let us usher in a Malaysia which
cherishes the values of peace, reason, justice, freedom, equity and
inclusion for all Malaysians.

The undersigned groups:
1. All Women’s Action Society Malaysia (AWAM)
2. Centre for Policy Initiatives (CPI)
3. Civil Rights Committee, Kuala Lumpur and Selangor Chinese Assembly
Hall (CRC-KLSCAH)
4. Civil Society Committee, LLG Cultural Development Centre (LLGCSC)
5. Civil Society Initiative for Parliamentary Reform (CSI@Parliament)
6. Coalition of Malaysian NGOs Against Persecution of Palestinians (COMPLETE)
7. Coalition of Selangor Indian NGOs
8. Consumer Association of Klang
9. Council of Churches of Malaysia (CCM) Youth
10. Council of Malaysia Indian Trustee
11. Friends in Conversation (FIC)
12. Group of Concerned Citizens (GCC)
13. Hindu Youth Organization, Port Klang
14. Human Development and Research Centre
15. Islamic Medical Association of Malaysia (IMAM)
16. Islamic Renaissance Front (IRF)
17. Jemaah Islah Malaysia (JIM)
18. Justice for Beng Hock Facebook Group
19. Kelab Sukan Depot Port Klang
20. Klang Vellarun Kalai Pannai
21. Letchumi Pooja Dhana Manbran Klang
22. Majlis Kelab Bell Tamil Selangor
23. Malaysia Belia Hindu Negeri Selangor
24. Malaysia Hindu Sangam Klang Council
25. Malaysia Hindu Sangam Selangor state council
26. Malaysia Indian Youth Council Selangor
27. Malaysian Hindu Dharma Mamandram Selangor
28. Muslim Professionals Forum (MPF)
29. Nadaraikia Sangam Selangor
30. Pamban Swami Maha Teja Mandala Sabai
31. Persatuan Alumni PBTUSM (Lihua) Selangor and Kuala Lumpur
32. Persatuan Kebajikan Bharathana Selangor
33. Persatuan Kebajikan cahaya wawasan Selangor
34. Persatuan Kebajikan Nammakkal
35. Persatuan Kebajikan Vanniar
36. Persatuan Kemajuan Pendidikan Malaysia
37. Persatuan Pembaca Tamil Klang
38. Persatuan Peniaga little India Klang
39. Persatuan Penyelidikan Astronomi Selangor
40. Persatuan Prihatin Belia Malaysia
41. Persatuan Thiruvallavar
42. Persatuan Wawasan India Selangor
43. Pertubuhan Kebudayaan dan Kesenian India Selangor
44. Pertubuhan Kesedaran Hara Krishna Klang
45. Research for Social Advancement (REFSA)
46. Selangor Indian Video graphers Association
47. Sri Vadivelu Culture and Welfare Association Selangor
48. Sri Vaishnava Paribalana Saba
49. Suara Raykat Malaysia (SUARAM)
50. The Divine Life Society Port Klang
51. The Micah Mandate
52. Vishnu Periyaval Sabai
53. Writer Alliance for Media Independence (WAMI)
54. 1BLACKMalaysia Facebook Group

July Chronicles of A Bohemian

2009-07-06T22:53:00.003+08:00

Shaking Paper - Cat Power

Hey it's July! This space has not been idle. Many words have floated in and out of this screen, I just
forgot to press 'record'. Sometimes deliberately.

It's been one of those semesters that seems to disappear into dust before you can turn around and identify tracks of life in the dirt. Not to say this semester has been void of the interesting; on the contrary, there were many things which kept life alive many of which I could delve into but shall refrain from doing so; my audience at large should be aware anyways... Life is more musical, in every sense of the word :D I conformed and put a smiley. But to escape from digression, on Thursday is a trip over to Yogyakarta, back home the following week rounded up with the grind of the mill the week after. Halfway through my degree, one and a half years from a lifetime away. This isn't a descent into nostalgia, I do that often enough. It's merely a statement of fact. Heh.

I sit here at my computer, putting together jumbled up thoughts and vague ideas to draw a heavy conclusion: I'm missing most of my music. Another long yet satisfying day of recording at home with the band (minus Jerry) but the sounds have receded into my laptop; songs mixed to perfection sound alien in my ears juxtaposed against our raw sound. My timing needs perfecting, my drum kit needs upgrading. I've always lacked the resources, as I do now, but it has never been a real stumbling block. I speak from multiple angles, telling parallel stories about no matter how much I may sketch an existential bohemian dramatis persona, it becomes increasingly evident that existence in inertia is useless regardless of the self-indulgence of an individual within the universe. It's something i've known for awhile but have always been reluctant to accept. It's much dandier to attribute the creation and control of happiness to oneself, and I'd be damned to admit that it was reliant on others, but obviously that is and always has been the case. That my bohemian joyful goodness is inhibited by those individuals closest and nearest to me and although it doesn't fully negate my own mind it does diversify emotions as a whole.

But I'm okay with that really, it's never been a problem to save the world together with your best mates. I'm just suffering from a little withdrawal syndrome.

Unwinding.

2009-05-19T01:43:00.004+08:00

There is no coherency, no time, space or matter. No stability or sense, no tangible elements float and mingle with no thought or regard for the other. Just a mass of void, an area of nothing, a block of stupid, which in itself is a oxymoron. Dull colours cover the eyes, cloud the sky and draw a scene, monochrome and insipid. But are we pretending or have we always been cloaked, been deluded, been lured? Was this over before it ever began, is it easier to lead with eyes closed, drawing on the imagination with arms wide open?

Telling lines spoken into the air before fading into oblivion, whose architects are we who seem to trip on the cords that draw the lines of failure. Where is the gravity that pulls us down, where are the ropes that bind us to the earth? Where are the seconds that countdown our remaining time, where is the space within which we call home? We sing this song, play this melody and fill the night with songs whose feelings and emotions become increasingly difficult to discern and decode. A ball that is thrown into the air, expecting a different result each time by overlooking its impossibility. A fire started that continues to rage, for putting it out would require too much effort.

Darkness of the moment like the tunes in my ears, the shadow that envelops my room, the bleakness of the future, and the uncertainty of an eternity, eclipses pulsations of those closest kilometers away. The time brings a warning, a reminder that life continues to revolve with our without us. Time unfurls like a standard blowing in a sea of carnage, immutable in the ground.
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever", but what is forever?

"Man is condemned to be free; for once thrown out into the world he is responsible for everything he does."

Monash Music Festival; Pulsate.

2009-04-27T22:44:00.005+08:00

It's already been a few days, an excess of 48 hours, much of which lack sleep and cohesion; hours fueled on caffeine, nicotine, kilos of nasi lemak and much love from all quarters.

The days blend into hours, the hours blur into minutes as each second becomes less distinct from the last, yet each stand individually and upright alongside its' companions, keeping the beat pulsating and the flow of time moving.

We expand, grow and and diffuse far past the first 9 corporeal beings that pre-existed before last epic Saturday, into a family far-reaching and warm. One that grew from a single digit number to all those who slaved without complaint or those who screamed and sang along to the lyrics thrown out into the night sky.

From the infant beginnings of the organisation of the Monash Music Festival up til the climax of headbanging joyness have we poured much love, time and energy into the fruition of our efforts, to be able to look around the Monash carpark, note the steel barricades and think to oneself, "me and my friends put that shit up". We trudged for hours and hours together, sweating in tandem as we lifted, heaved, ran and worried as one collective and cohesive unit. Joking and laughing, cursing and swearing, whether high on adrenaline or burned out by the sun, we bonded together as a band of brothers and sisters striving for a collective cause.

And then there were the tunes, my melodic brothers with whom we spent many hours perfecting our beats, smoothing our riffs and projecting our music to volumes previously unreached and unseen by any of us, beyond the watts of amplifiers and the kick of the bass pedal into the ethereal nature of the crowd and their energy. Walking onto stage to the cheer of the crowd, jumping into our set and being received as a band by such awesomeness is nothing short of electrifying.

The collective energy i've spent over these last few days in particular has finally taken it's toll on me, as I cringe at the bout of sniffles that threatens to decimate a tiny African village at the sight of dust, nurse a headache that cleaves the mind and a general lethargy that has permeated the student council, but such an experience is not worth endless cartons of free cigarettes, as everything can be measured against cigarettes. The emotional care and support that everyone has dissipated freely and generously reminds me that although the world is a cruel and dark place, we can always rock the fuck out with our friends so long as we surrender our feet to the mosh pit.

A big shout out to my greatest mates: The Activities Committee of KT, Joanna, Namie, Sarah, Philip, Azrul, The Titan and Ju/Jew. The Subs of Usman, Malati, Ashwin, Mahal, Dom and Danni, Fendi and the other Ashwin, the entire damn security team included cuz i can't list the entire team here, all the other sub-committees, my mates Hani, Mutiara, Jegs and Azim for coming out to watch us play, and lastly but-in-incredibly-cliched-fashion not the least in any way, the entire band of Crossing Boundaries including the team of girlfriends, Jerry, Shaneil, Tristan, Hasi, Denise and my baby, Nicole.

I love you guys.

Committee needs a proper photo!

One, Two, Three Marlenas

2009-04-18T11:39:00.003+08:00

Sometimes there are a thousand things to say, a million things to express, a bucket of tears to cry and a flurry of laughter to throw into the air, but words have and always will fall short. Words are the limits of our expression, framing the mind into as much as a vocabulary can hold. Words make thoughts tangible, but tangible to a limited degree, tangible as to the lines that we draw around ourselves.

We exist as products of our language, that it is language that constructs us and not us who constructs language, that language precedes us, that we all exist within a pre-existing structure where all our actions and thoughts are pre-conceived and pre-meditated? How different is that from the submissive belief that God is all-knowing and all is up to him, therefore it doesn't matter what we do since he is all powerful and already knows what we're going to do and we're eventually gonna get fucked over by something outside our control? Lacan must've never heard of free will, sitting in his room nursing his black, black heart.

I say a massive "fuck that"; nobody messes up on my behalf.

The Cure for Fridays

2009-04-03T21:41:00.002+08:00

Four weeks has it been? Or five, since I've typed out my thoughts in this virtual space. I do enjoy the rarity of writing but the sporadic nature of my posting habits isn't really all that cool...

Neither is the weather.

A scorching inferno humidityfest that blows like a autistic zephyr, the prize sweats out from the pores, permeating across every corner of the cancer ward and drenching its victims in a pool of bad metaphors.

I probably should get started on that assignment due Monday, or at least attempt to look for the question. I probably should stop eating the kheer (goodness the sin!) and have a granola or something. I probably should rid my self of my "-ine" addictions, put on my shoes and go save some whales. But hey presto, blog precedence.

Blog precedence = life precedence = life fail

The best rambles are metaphors, so in the words of Tristan here comes a "fuckin' tsunami".

Ramble in shambles. Loosen your shackled feet and drag them to the furthest corner of the hottest campus in the world only to accentuate the heat, whether it be from the sticks we cradle, the moisture of laughter or the sweat on clenched palms. The perspiration hits the floor and mingles with the ash forming a pool of blithe only to be trampled by our lingering shoes.

The grim coolness exudes from a select few, whose lives bathe in similar oil that ignites in the hands of the Chair on a whim or spur; melt and mold into the concrete beneath our feet.

Run.

The chill emanates from dulled rooms, where the most penile of people stand at attention while the pedantics nestle loudly in their foreign sections, blaring at every opportunity. The Accented Shrill sets into normalcy, as those with greater senses of sanity roll eyes in opposing directions at such expressed stupidity.

But not all them birds are dimwitted.

Escape and respite. Laconic or expressive with the penchant of colour and curls splashed on screen like summer undergoing indigestion, we traverse and transcend the monochrome that envelopes ordinaries and subordinates, far away into a place we vaguely remember entangled with the sensation of freshness and virginity as lovers on a steel sofa. Intertwined and immersed in thoughts and memories that construct themselves on the fly, goofy smiles creep across faces like sunlight on skin as sweet nothings fill the air; redolent and perpetual. Day breaks and die as we sit and witness the world on revolution, barely noticing anything other than the twirl of her hair, her iris gleam and my own selfish giddiness.

But we are spatial beings and thus the weekend is here to give reason to all that we miss.

Rue.

2009-03-01T21:59:00.003+08:00

Rue, for the beginning has yet to end, as the end has yet to begin. Kaleidoscopic senses perceive the end of a four month tattered sojourn into oblivion. Boy, its gonna feel good to go back to university tomorrow.

There is nothing remotely deep or philosophical about this post, it has no relation to politics or world issues. I just feel like these last four months deserve some kind of flourish before it is cast into the depths of forgotten memory banks.

What's there to say? I don't want to delve into anything overly personal; those of you who read this and know me well enough will be well versed in the mirth I've bathed in this Australian summer. Yet I'm compelled to keep writing, maybe for the sake of writing, or maybe for the love of it. Sometimes it's impossible to tell, as we all come to learn at an eventual stage.

Unpredictable like the weather, varied like the smiles on the faces of people we meet, the conscience clears like a sunny Friday morning, only to descend into the nebulous vulgarity of Saturday. Many things learned and unlearned, friends made and broken only to find ourselves here again, slowing for the approach on Monday, gingerly treading on shards of shattered glass to the beat of a good tune.

I'm mixed about these four months. Granted they've been horrible, granted they've cut like a razor blade but the people I've spent it with and the times we shared, with a little digression into cliched emotion, have been pretty darn swell. Endless hours sitting drinking teh tarik, talking about everything or nothing, enveloped in the still silence of a chess game or raucous as a Playstation 3 (that's right, your eyes do not deceive) stirred to life by Winning Eleven, my hair indicates that I've grown, for better or for worse.

It's not fair that so much had to happen in a ridiculously short span of time, others included, before we've even hit 20. It's not fair that all these feelings had to be spilled on the floor like the panic of an ambulance before we've had a chance to graduate. Either the circles of sadness are closing in around us, or the world is turning into a cruel, dead place, but like a great friend of mine said, "We can be a great success, or a great failure. Either way, its greatness."
And damn straight it is.

So what does all this mean? Where have we walked to, where have these words led us? Hell if I know, if i knew there would be no need for me to write in riddles and I would have slept well many weeks ago. Here's me saying that I've learned from this time out, however I wish we could all go back to the start. But sometimes being the dreamer is myopic, sometimes hope is Life in denial; yet we have never been dulled by such before. Whatever that all may eventually mean, Time, the bastard procrastinator that he is, will speak his peace one day and we'll be around to curse or luck our whoop with joy.

So here's to The Beautiful Side of Somewhere, a great song and a great line. Hopefully, as we perpetually seem to do, something brighter will light up the sky, some new mistake will unearth itself, or something old and faded will be injected with vigour again. Something to make us sing out loud, skip the cracks in the street and smile at the faces that smile back, if not on our own then with those around us. It will take ages, for the road has yet been weathered, but my shoes are strapped on with the blithe of youth on my side.

When all this is over, when all this is dusted and when I remember the beautiful things I've forgotten, I shall buy all you awesome people lunch. I cannot heave my heart into my mouth and express all these feelings, so I'll let someone else do it for me, something I found in someone else's note but which I thought to be extremely apt.

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,
"You owe Me."
Look what happens with
A love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.

- Hafiz, from The Gift

Awake!

2009-01-08T16:14:00.002+08:00

It has been too long a lapse since any words have passed here, too turbulent a period for any of my thoughts to be collected coherently to serve some eclectic purpose or other. Too caught up in the quagmire of my own demise and disillusionment, bereaving my own selfishness and solitude, I like many others barely noticed the world continue to revolve painfully on an axis that bleeds dry.

It revolves for no one, no single physical entity is the focal point of its perpetual revolution; it spins for existence alone.

We are the masters of our existence and emotions, but merely to the extent until which our free-will ceases to operate and influence. In the grander scheme of things insular love, and conversely pain, are about as meaningful as a singular raindrop in the drought of emotion. We all feel as humans do, but only by feeling collectively do we progress ourselves as well as society.

I once quoted Guevara to someone dear to me where he said " when they say a thousand and one times that we're dreamers, that we're romantics, that we are incorrigible idealists, that we think the impossible; then a thousand and one times we must answer that yes, we are." If I had lost my way since then, I have regained my faith.

I am a revolutionary and this is a call to arms.

In the comfort of homes, resting negligently in front of our television and computer screens, we are the audience that fuels the war in Gaza. At the time of writing, 700 Palestinians and 20 Israelis have been killed, while we shake our heads at the state of the world and change the channel. We read in the newspapers about the merciless slaying of innocents as we heave a heavy sigh and flip over to the sports section. We hear about various aid agencies, read emails asking for aid and allow the guilt to wash away thinking that there is definitly someone else willing to commit the energy we've just spent at the locak mamak.

But that has never been the case. We are the soldiers that shoot Palestinian children, we are the bombs that destroy civilian buildings, we are Hosni Mubarak suffocating Gaza out of existence. As we remain complicit, we the audience lives vicariously on the war, becoming the images we see and witness.
The very apathy that drives our inaction is drawn from the same well that steels those soldiers into murder, the same lack of emotion that morphs us into drones of war and entertainment.

AWAKE!

This is a call to become what we were born to be, humans who feel love and pain as real as bomb fragments that pierce the bone, as reactive as phosphorus on skin. This is not anything that requires extraordinary capabilities, merely to be as we were created and become one with humanity. Put aside your political affiliations and religious divisions to come together on a humanitarian platform before the blood that drives the world spills onto our hands. Do not rank amongst those who stood by and watched it happen; be counted alongside people who have found the heart to care about the darkness that sweeps the world.

It is not for us to leave it to someone else, to complain about the affairs of the world, remain hesitant, to pass judgement thousands of kilometers away and go back to the inertia of our privacy. Our time here is limited and all that really counts is with what virtue we live our lives by, how well we spent our years bettering ourselves, the people around us and our planet For once, leave aside your concerns and rise for what good there is left in this world, for only together will there be a revolution.

The Curse Of the Majority

2008-08-11T20:30:00.003+08:00

Back with a "Come with me now!"

Astounding stupidity reeking from the newspapers prevalent in the air surrounding the Bar Council. I'm sure everyone has heard or read the news about the forum on conversion to Islam at the aforementioned venue and the subsequent protests by a rabid army of tok haji's brandishing signs reading "Jangan Cabar Islam".

Enter the neo-con Republicans of Malaysia!

But before we get into a discussion of religion , there be a couple of things I wanted to point out.
Firstly, why were the protesters allowed within a reasonable perimeter of the Bar Council? Why did the police recommend the forum to be ended instead of arresting the protesters for disturbing the peace?

Polly wants a cracker, maybe I should get off her first...

Moving along, I would like to categorically disassociate myself with these fools who invoke divinity for privilege and philistinism; men and women with minds of frozen ice-lollies insanely ignorant of their own faith and doctrine and who only serve to smear my name, the name of my parents and that of my siblings. Implication by extension, and the media loves frenzied religious fanatics, the orientalists of our time. Their actions are as bad as a misquote from My Poor Brain in the newspapers.

But such is the mindset of those who enjoy the fruits of being a majority in a multi-racial country, when privileges of race and religion should never have been handed out. Fair dinkum if Muslims have their own religion-privy court, which is not unlike the Jewish Halakha, so long as it doesn't jump the jurisdiction of those it doesn't involve. The necessity of a a forum on conversion to Islam is therefore of the utmost importance whichever side of the religious-political divide you fall on, as the grey areas are stark and shiny like cents on futsal court to my eyes.

I say curse of the majority (curses!), as the position is taken for granted in this country. Your not about to see such idiocy in a minority state. I ask the protesters, where is your faith? Are thee that insecure about your own religion? Aren't we suppose to be "right" anyways?

God loves the equals, as if that isn't obvious enough and I doubt he'd appreciate being told to "balik Cina" because he's not Malay.

Damn Malays! My ethnicity is guilty of rampant racism and puerile ignorance and my outburst is all that I can do to rebuke the insanity. Neo-conservatism is an easy thing to fall into, but the epoch we live in refuses unsubstantiated bullshit. And thus killing off that ideology.

All this flush during my assignment week. Inconsiderate.

"I went to Paris and found Islam but no Muslims, I came back to Egypt and found Muslims but no Islam."

-Mohammed Abduh

Space For Rent

2008-07-21T21:27:00.002+08:00

No blog posts for ages, yet I complain of utter boredom.
Like I'm doing now.

"Dude, I'm quite bored wei."

Perpetual like the sands of time. Like football weekends.
Like American Pie sequels.

But not like Batman movies. Oh, Batman, there may never be a better Batman after the sweetfest that was The Dark Knight.

This space shall be going on a mini political hiatus as the current atmosphere that permeates through the newspapers and internet is leaving me more jaded than a Chinese emperor out of tea. But something tells me I might have already mentioned that.

Apologies for being laconic.

Failing Brain Recesses

2008-06-26T17:06:00.005+08:00

Enter an Ouroboros, tailing your demise as it caves and consumes the innards of intuition, leaving behind a trail of impecuniosity and coffee stained mugs. White stains pervade the neon lights that flare and fade within the mind incessantly, like the curls left behind in another memoir, recollected nightly.

To sit and waste to the sonorous wail of a guitar during the Flower Show Riots writes the zeitgeist like an artist with the air as his canvas, flowing as zephyrs do to the whims of the dramatis personae; movements that reflect Failing Brain Recesses. Onward we struggle to make the ends of the day meet, for darkness to touch darkness, and creep out into the celebrations of annual age-growing. Or watching as capitalist activities woo masses into a trance, with Oranje suffering the defeat of pale.

A night of splendor and solace crushed by the solitude of a dream and the cold winds of reality, mixed with the wafting scent of chemicals in an acid rain. Words emerge in the Dance of Feet, nets ringing with the dual sound of victory and defeat epitomised by the beads of sweat dripping to the floor.

What does the week hold in store, until we return to another epoch of occupation?

In Defence Of...

2008-06-08T12:45:00.007+08:00

In provocation of this.

The other day as I was sitting amongst students of variegated faculties (rumour has it that medical students have their own 'library'), when a supposed debate on the trial level faced by different students of different courses arose from the ashes of lethargy and exam apathy.

"F**k you arts guys watch movie for class all, as if your course is so hard!"

"F**k you business students, you couldn't spell Foucault with a management team!"

(improvisation added)

So as we bandied our words around in a polite, respectable manner worthy of prodigal university students, we managed to emancipate a few positions:

1) Assuming that people choose their course because that's what the enjoy studying, then on a data basis those who fail or drop out determines how 'difficult' a course is, because if you're in your niche and still sucking it, then your either a complete r-tard or your course is insurmountable past four feet.

2)That data is gay and erodes the uniqueness of the individual, particularly pertaining to the environment of said individual. (For more information on individualism and the effect of the environment please see Thunderpants )

3) That the point is not worth arguing over as there is no measure for difficulty (based on previous point of individualism), and that everyone should be cool and listen to Interpol.

If your in a course-stereotype mood, feel free to guess which points belong to which faculty.

So anyways, the first point is fine and dandy from a purely empirical point of view, if one were to quantify data on things like lack of sleep, failure rate, dropout rate, hours spent in library etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. However, data and figures alone is not enough to measure the difficulty of course. Sure it gives you numbers, but the conclusion is based on a positive or negative conclusion. The statement may go something like this:

The data states that more business students lack sleep. Therefore we can infer that a business course is difficult.

Which, of course, is a very simplistic analysis.

The second point follows individualism, that we're all too cool and unique to be quantified. 'Nuff said.

And lastly, the third point builds on the second, where since we're all too cool to be transformed into numbers on a spreadsheet it is therefore impossible to ascertain which course is harder (not to mention a tad bit unethical and xeno-coursephobic), and that we should all just chill out to Leif Erikson by Interpol.

Sure some courses may entail more work. For example medicine is determined to rape the life out of its students. However this creates the God complex within them, which is what I despise in all doctors. Furthermore, they go on to rape the world of its cash, just like lawyers. Business students have loads of work but will inevitably get rich some day, where Arts students chill out, stone and theorise with the knowledge that we'll either rule the world or live in a box playing Risk.

Yet we study what we study willingly (unless your a student of journalism) and knowingly. So chill out and make the world a better place with whatever degree you have!

Unless your in law school, as entrance fee is the sale of your soul.

Smelling Petrol Is No Longer Free

2008-06-04T21:45:00.006+08:00

I've got my COM1010 exam tomorrow.
But what I didn't count on was the events of today, and as per usual, blogging takes precedence over exams. Haha!

To adorn a more serious face.
Petrol prices increase tomorrow, to a whopping RM2.70 a litre, Malaysiakini reports.
Cometh the Armageddon, as petrol prices cause a cataclysmic chain of events which will end in the eventual annihilation of humanity as we know it.
The end is nigh, ladies and gentlemen, as we sit in front of our laptops and computers, or kick back to enjoy a cigarette with coffee, decisions based on the principle of market freedom continue to enrich certain sectors of society whilst straining others. This may appear to be something of an anti-democracy, pro-socialism rant, but in all honesty; f**k market freedom, for lack of a better word. Throw away your textbooks, step out onto the streets and pay the price for smelling petrol, because if you don't pay now, you will later.

Economics and marketing become useless and redundant the second petrol lines extend around the corner and past the block. Market freedom doesn't matter when the very electorate are subject to a ridiculous surge in prices, because once we shove the theories aside, side-stepping the charts on the way, if there are queues for petrol, its not working. Period.

Its rather difficult to describe the amalgamation of feelings and emotions within my being when driving past petrol stations to see them closed, and joining the queue for petrol amongst countless others. It was an overwhelming sensation of white-collar slavery, violation, exploitation, with Marx taunting me in my mind and an image of Sartre shaking his head while the words of freedom bind my feet to the gas pedal and my eyes to the fuel meter. All this and I don't even pay for my own petrol, but I shall nevertheless feel the weight of market freedom as prices inevitably rise around us like a surging wave. I'm no economist and I abhor math, but if it binds my hands to further shrewdness of my wallet, then there's a problem that needs addressing.

But its the price we pay?
Its a pretty damn high price. I don't (usually) align myself to any political stance, but visions of socialism form within my mind, alongside the contrasting image of breadlines.

"Man was born free, but he is everywhere in chains."
Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Blog Etiquette

2008-06-02T02:07:00.002+08:00

shite lah. apologies for the vain digression, but I've been tagged!

7 Facts about me
1. I wanted to be a rockstar.
2.I still do.
3. I'm not Jewish.
4. I'm was born in JB.
5. I was white-washed.
6.I did gymnastics as a kid.
7.complete with spandex.

7 things that scare me
1. Ignorance
2. Illiteracy
3. Snakes
4. Mediocrity
5. democracy (hahahaha)
6. The fan unhinging
7. flying

7 songs of the moment
1. The Great Decay - The Great Spy Experiment
2. Pioneer to the Falls- Interpol
3. Under the Bridge - RHCP
4. Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine
5. Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry
6. White Room - Cream
7. The Earth Song - Michael Jackson

7 things that I always say
1. "apa sal?"
2. "cibai..."
3. "whatcha got?"
4. "Anyone got 40 cents?"
5. "goddamn"
6. "what'd i miss?"
7. "which girl?"

7 things that matter the most
1. Everything is connected, so everything matters.

7 First times in life (in the last 365 days I guess)
1. I started uni.
2. I went to Africa.
3. Met a fascist and struck an amiable friendship.
4. Played futsal almost every week since the sem started.
5. Things appeared neither black nor white. Its true.
6.Things clicked.
7. I got tear gassed.

7 tagged people;
1.Mahathir
2. jeff Ooi
3. Marina Mahathir
4. Khir Toyo
5. Rocky
6. RPK
7. Chin Huat

if only they read my blog.

Caleb's Wonder Footballog

2008-06-01T23:22:00.005+08:00

First things first:

HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY JACQ!

This post shall be dedicated to my course-mate, esteemed colleague, team striker and good friend, Caleb Khew.

My mate here has a problem.
And yes, its quite a serious problem.

You see, Caleb has a definitive issue with one Shebby Singh, a football commentator who regularly appears on ESPN and Star Sports as a panelist. Caleb believes his presence there is unwarranted, as Spurs fans should not be granted television rights of any sort, let alone a spot as a pundit. I believe that his appearance constitutes to positive discrimination, but thats another matter altogether and shall not be highlighted.

So here we have a disgruntled football fan, frustrated at the omnipresence of Shebby Singh and his incompetent ways. Being the persevering, headstrong fellow that he is, in true arts fashion he initiated a blog of his own, positing his own views free from the tarnish that is Shebby. Going with the current flow of alternative media, his blog is available at http://90minutesandmore.blogspot.com , where all his complex brain things take the shape of football writings.

Now ladies and gentlemen, this isn't merely a show of nepotism; in my humble opinion Caleb's insightful comments penetrate the very foundations of bullshit, presented in an avidly amiable manner for the masses. Fresh and cordial, Caleb obviously prefers thinking, analysing and writing about football than he does with Media Studies, and this has materialised into what I call Caleb's Wonder Footballog, or Caleb's Wonder Flog, or CWF for short.

So venture into Caleb's footballing world, post comments, and lavish in all things football. Go forth and multiply, in the form of site hits!

And Caleb, I expect lunch.

Of Epochs and Blog posts

2008-05-30T22:42:00.004+08:00

'It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity."

Unbeknownst and benign, time flew like the senses of tree-lovers on a hazy night, dimmed with shades of purple and green within the confines of household plurality.
Or alike the strain of wrists as they toil over letters, punched in to craft work of varied degrees: equally wondrous or incoherent; the same destination but with different paths.
On occasion the mind shall stray, as it tends to do, and wander into thoughts of more delicate things, of porcelain and its commons, whether straight or curly like the waves of an ocean. Lost beneath the tide of flavour and swimming with anchovies, the myrrh of life has swept by in an unrelenting tirade of occupation.

And so has the time passed since the semester started, and since I last posted.

My God Is More Popular Than Your God

2008-04-25T21:33:00.009+08:00

Oh, Tautology!

Enter the Allah saga.

Here we have the ensuing debate on the banning of "Allah" in non-Muslim/non-Islamic contexts. If I remember correctly, (my assignment brain is telling me to give a citation, damn university.) the reason given was "it would cause confusion amongst Muslims/Malays."

When that quote popped up on my screen the first thing I could do was reel in laughter and consider the supposed Muslim intelligentsia that exist somewhere in the parallels of our universe, whether they really are just a myth, and whether Muslims are as docile as we make ourselves out to be. Amazing, I tell you.

Initially, I was not inclined to make such a big fuss about the issue, particularly because it sounded like two things:

a) The ineptitude of the religious department in this country, along with their curtness,

b) "Malaysians concerned about their freedom of religion" screaming "ISLAMOFASCISM!!!"

Maybe the second point is not completely justified on the basis that I've never been in their position. The curse of being the majority.

At any rate, I was of the opinion that the religious department shouldn't have gotten their underpants in a garble.

Anyways, the issue popped up again as I read of the newspaper looking to file a law suit against the banning.

So here we are again. To break it down empirically, it should be divided into two parts:

a) reason for the ban (as mentioned earlier)

b) reason for its use by non-Muslims.

The basis of the argument against the banning is to use "Allah" in place of "God" in the Malay section of the newspaper, or in articles written in Malay. Firstly,

God = English

Allah = God in Arabic

Tuhan = God in Bahasa Melayu, national language of the most kecoh people in the world

So here's the question. Why on Earth would a Malay article use a foreign word for God in place of its own specific, Tuhan? What is so wrong and deficient with our own language that we have to utilise another? AND JUST ONE WORD?

Muslims in Malaysia refer to God as Allah for a very simple reason. As Arabic is the medium of translation from God to Man in Islam, so do Muslims use Arabic terms when speaking of/contemplating/worshiping God. Furthermore, "Allah" is used to refer to God by all Arabic speaking people whether they be Jews, Christians or Muslims. And even further from furthermore, in the Qur'an Allah calls himself Allah. So, tada! The link is one of cultural demographics, where Malays here identify themselves as Muslims, and therefore call God "Allah".

Its the equivalent of using Latin when conducting Church services, or calling God "Jesus".

Why would the paper want to use a term so closely associated with Islam anyways? Is it to blur the lines between the religions, or to actually confuse us sillies?

People say, "We're all worshiping the same God anyhow, so it doesn't matter." Heeeeeeeeell No! There exists only one God, or one "version " of God, but we're all contemplating Him and worshiping Him differently. That's pretty damn evident, therefore to use different religious terms interchangeably would be a technical blasphemy. By calling God "Allah" one is referring to the Islamic version, as the name denotes Islam and everything possible to do with it. Similarly if I were to refer to God as Yahweh I would be referring to the Jewish version of God.

If you don't believe me, see Allah and Yahweh. As Wikipedia is a search engine, it immediately uses the relevant word's direct denotation.

That being said, Allah is merely God in Arabic. Release the religious connotations and its just another word. While the necessity of its usage outside Muslim circles is queer and superfluous, its banning is equally unjustified. Language is a social construct, fluid as the peoples it belongs to. What we say is important, but hardly as important as why we say it. Its something we can neither enforce nor deny, simply because our minds and motives remain hidden under subtle nuances.

So what do I propose? Case be thrown out. Ban revoked. The newspaper to take up Bahasa Melayu lessons.

So can we stop the politicking already? Its getting tiring.

KL Freeze in Unison, Pavilion, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 13th April 2008.

2008-04-13T22:59:00.003+08:00

KL Freeze in Unison, Pavilion, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 13th April 2008.
Originally uploaded by prakashdaniel

Yes! I was there, with my siblings and Abhay, at KL Freeze in Unison in Pavilion. Detailed report to come, probably tomorrow once the assignment load has eased. But for now...

UPDATE:

So yes i've finally handed in all my assignments.
For now.
Not including second assignments. But hey, passing up is passing up.

Anyways, on to the newsworthy story (damn journalism.), KL Freeze in Unison, which happened on the 13th of April 2008.

What can I say? It had all the tension of a demonstration, a firestorm of a rally and the youthful exuberance of an Incubus gig. I've been for some cool shit over the last couple of years, including all the aforementioned, but this was by far the most wicked, in a twisted kinda way.

We arrived at the meeting point, LOT 10 in Bukit Bintang with time to spare. It was rather odd, as the entire mall was filled with vagrant "We're ALL gonna rob your store, and yours, and yours, and look flashy while doing it" people to the point where staff members were getting edgy. Not toooo inconspicuous, I'd say, but nevertheless!

At about 2:30pm, the drug-pushers or "organisers" started walking around, trying not to be noticed while slipping orange slips of papers into the hands of people who were also trying to look covert, as if the act was completely normal, inclusive of the 900 or so people whom it was being distributed amongst.

The Flash point had been revealed: Pavilion.

When we got there, the bros, Abhay and I started scouting for a good place to freeze while killing til the designated time. We decided to freeze as bodyguards surrounding a VIP, played by my tiny ten year old brother.

All was set, until some started freezing earlier than others.
Fools didn't synchronise their watches. Damn.

So the timing was messed up. No matter, it didn't stop it from being any less cool. Nothing like 900 people freezing as they stood for four minutes in a public place with no one else aware of what's going on, managing to get the event on TV, and pissing of the management! Amazing!

Great to see Jasmine freezing in the middle of a photo. Nice. She directed me to this video.

Jasmine's the frozen girl in blue and white, we're the idiots in suits.

Beat that shit!

Assignments = No Blog Posts, Football is a Cheating Wife

2008-04-09T10:53:00.003+08:00

Football is a cold, harsh and cruel game. Just when you think your winning she stabs you in the back, like a significant caught with your best friend's pants.

Back in the heyday of Adams, Pires, Viera, Henry, passivity was uncommon with passion rising higher than an explosive Pompeii in its prime. Anger flared as easily as The Arsenal's football, a win was a woman, a loss was a 90 minute Greek Tragedy.

The paramour nature of The Beautiful Game resulted in a mellow of emotion in the later years, only to be wrecked by a train last night/this morning. Its been ages since i've felt so emotional about a bunch of overpaid men kicking a ball around, but last night's game was a hell raiser.

On a lighter note, amazingly, one more assignment to go and the weights shall be lifted. For the time being, that is.

Damn journalism.

Useless subject.

Cheerios!

2008-03-23T21:15:00.004+08:00

Sweet Easter Bunny my head hurts like I'm a Trostkyist whose head has been split asunder by an ice-pick.
Damn clandestine operations. And course assignments.

With Malaysian politics dwindling in interest to the equivalent significance of tea leaves in an empty cup and with the current whiff of feminism prevalently embodied in the persona of a someone, I've decided to rant on cheerleading.

Cheerleading? Yes. It all came about I can't pin down when, but I remember wanting to write about it after coming home from my younger brother's sports day. It is, I find, rather disturbing seeing those young girls wheel about in attitude to the raucous yells of euphoric parents.
Visual aesthetics? Creepy.

To get one thing straight, cheerleading originates from The USA. Not saying all evil stems from there, oh no. Geert Wilders lives in Holland. To return, although cheerleading started as a means to cheer on a team and as an all-male activity (laughable, I know) it has evolved to become the most sexist, gender-stereotyping and female derisive thing I've ever had the displeasure of witnessing. At least I think so.

Scene from an atypical American football movie: Pep talk in the locker room. Outside the crowd get impatient. The cheerleading squad, all looking joyous and happy in those mini-skirt one piece thingys and Barbie doll make-up start flipping around, exciting the crowd. Football team runs on-field like a pack of angry, ravaged bulldogs.

My point is, cheerleading has evolved to become a woman-cheers-man phenomenon. Not just that, but women-in-skimpy-outfits-cheer-the atypical-jock.

Welcome to gender stereotyping. Why can't it be dudes cheering on a netball team?

So you say "But there are dudes on a cheerleading team." Do you see them shirtless? All they ever do is carry the girls, another stereotype. Surely girls are strong enough to lift one another?
And how many times have we thought male cheerleaders were kinda gay (or at least initially)?

So after all the feminism, the question of why we import an attitude (not a culture), and a sexist one at that, into our culture is beyond me. If I was in a womens action group I'd be sounding my whistle every time a girl did a backflip.

But doesn't everyone want to be a cheerleader?

Was it all A dream?

2008-03-09T11:46:00.006+08:00

Opposition retain Kelantan.

And Nab Penang.

And Kedah.

And Perak.

AND SELANGOR.

Yes, SELANGOR.

What on earth happened last night? Where did all these extra ballot boxes come from? Where did we hid the BN votes? Or did we actually vote in the opposition?

Did yesterday really happen?

For the first time in our nation's history, Malaysians came out to vote for a better Malaysia. After 50 years, this country has gotten the change it needed. Its not the winds of change anymore, its a friggin' tsunami.

The scores and tallies are available elsewhere. The analysis is within the recesses of our brains. What I want to vent is that while some of us celebrate the change that is to come, others rue the loss of the ruling party. While some of us readily assume that all have awaited opposition power, there are those who vehemently oppose anything pembangkang.

Government machinery has been hard at work, using the media to spread its lies and misrepresent other political parties. While some don't fall for the facade unfortunately others do, even those amongst one's tightest circle thus creating a dichotomy among peers, friends you have known since before we could even spell "politics".

Ignorance is the enemy of friends. Here we stand side by side, with one dreaming of the future of ahead and the other saddened by the future lost. Why?

Because we're guilty. Guilty in all our campaigning. For all the strangers I approached, for all the people I personally called, for all the ceramahs I attended, I failed as my duty as a friend to inform my own peers about the state of affairs in this country. While we celebrate the victory of a win, I can only smack myself in the head for all those I missed. With all the euphoria that pervades the atmosphere, I can only think of those unaccounted in the celebrations. Some of them my own friends.
All because I never reached out to those closest, because of ignorance, theirs and mine.

Life is like politics when you try to please everyone. Politicians, like us, are not chameleons, changing to suit the context, we're merely accommodating more friends. What people don't understand is that like life, in pleasing everyone you are not changing your stance. Your finding new ways to stand.

So Us Is This

2008-03-08T00:23:00.004+08:00

And so we have arrived.

Here we stand at the pinnacle of efforts, the penultimate challenge that awaits all us patriots.

Election Day is today.

As I write this, I've just returned from what counts as my fourth ceramah this campaign period, them being the ceramahs in Brickfields (Makkal Sahti!), Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Kampung Pasir Baru and tonight's down in my hood, Lucky Garden Bangsar.

I've heard candidates and representatives of all the opposition parties, PAS, keADILan and the DAP, and the message is loud and clear; f**k off, Barisan Nasional! There were times when the speakers were exploding with fury and vehemence that an expletive seemed poised and rearing. Shit, if that was me I'd have to be on a soap diet til the elections are over.

People are overcoming they're differences. Only the myopic still believe the lies fed to us by the mass media about the opposition parties; PAS is ultra-fundamental, DAP is ultra-Chinese, and keADILan is ultra-irrelevant. If anyone has been to an opposition ceramah, I challenge them to continue to be duped by the BN IV drop. This country has gone 50 years into its independence, from one decadent year to the next while all we did was sip teh tarik and blame postal votes.

Not this time, not again for I fear if it doesn't happen this year, the people will never be roused to awakening again. Today, we have the one and only opportunity to effect the change that we want, not that of our kleptocratic leaders, into the Malaysia we've envisioned and dreamed. All this work the blogs have done, all the scrutiny of the watchdogs, all the drama of the rallies will amount to nothing if the support is not translated into votes. Our yells at the Bersih rally, our screams of "Reformasi" will merely ring empty if we do not act upon our sentiments. As Nurul Izzah put it, "I want a better Malaysia for my daughter."

I can't vote. All I can do is show my support, volunteer where necessary, say a prayer or two, or write something I hope others might read. But I urge, and very strongly, to all those who CAN vote to exercise your democratic rights, but to also go a step further and vote opposition. It doesn't matter who's running in your constituency, be it DAP or PAS, if they can form a coalition, can't we? Please don't leave your lives in the hands of a PM who can't stay awake, an education minister who brandishes the keris, a judiciary-for-sale and a non-protection police force. As dramatic as it sounds, your future in this country is dependent on your vote.

So vote Opposition, God damnit!

Let's Go Nurul, Let's Go!

2008-02-28T21:26:00.004+08:00

That's Shazee, stealing my thunder on nomination day in Bangsar for the Lembah Pantai seat. Well, at least its Nurul Izzah who's contesting.

Well here we are as the impending elections sink into the septic pool it is. I've stopped reading the newspapers now for a couple of weeks, the amount of propaganda makes my eyes bleed. Now I can't decide which is worse, how docile we may actually be, or how docile the government thinks we are. Either way the answer is revolting.
Funny world we live in.
Or just Malaysia.

God it must be hell to be a politician. Pleasing a nation of whining rat-asses that we are. At least over here public policy still overshadows the rights of an individual, thankfully so. I can't bear to imagine having to cater (in theory) to the rights of individuals, from individual to individual.

That's where the system kinda gets screwy, doesn't it? In a secular society where there is no "fixed" yardstick of morals (a bill of rights doesn't count, since it can always be amended) allows for an ever-changing mould of society. All that is needed is for an idea's voice to become loud enough, and hey presto!
Its the new black.

The idea isn't exactly far-fetched, take homosexuality as an example. 50 years ago, to be gay was unbelievably taboo. Now however, if your homosexual you get a parade. It doesn't matter what your views on homosexuality are, the fact is something that was thought to be wrong is now a right, due to its constant lobbying. Development of consciousness you say? It took civilisation God knows how many hundreds of years to develop that consciousness?

Kuala Lumpur, Bangsar, Brickfields, is a beautiful place at night, when the stars litter the sky, the honking of cars has settled for the day, the vibrancy of the Indian community illuminating the philistinism of Barisan Nasional supporters. The campaign posters of the Photoshopped celebrity that is Sharizat take a backseat to the cadence of the unanimous roar erupting from around the corner.

What happened was midway through this post, I upped and left for a ceramah down in Brickfields where Nurul Izzah, Anwar Ibrahim, and a splendid supporting cast of names that surpass me gave short speeches each. The atmosphere, the friendliness of the audience, the veracity of the words spoken, the passion in the swelling crowd lent to the redolence of an impending victory. Can you smell the air? It smells like....

MAKKAL SAHTI!

PM dissolves Nation

2008-02-13T22:50:00.005+08:00

13/02/08

The Prime Minister of Malaysia today announced the dissolution of Parliament, and the rest of the nation with it, at a press conference in his Putrajaya office today.

Looking amused with himself behind his oak podium and speaking into a RM10,000 microphone, YBH Sir Datuk Tan Seri Tun Abdullah Badawi, OBE, stated that he wanted to "surprise" the people by initially denying the dissolution of Parliament on the 13th, his favourite number, and then changing his mind because he thought it would be "funny".

"You should have seen the look on your faces!" roared the Prime Minister, as he slapped his knees in obvious glee.

"Its not hard to dissolve Parliament", he went on to say, "JUST ADD WATER!" as recorded cheers and applause were heard coming from the direction of the Deputy Prime Minister, YBH Sir Datuk Tan Seri Tun Najib Razak, MBE.

"Oh Abby, you practical joker, you!" he choked. "Gets me every time!"

When pressed on their campaign strategy, the pair exchanged grins and began sniggering to themselves.

"Campaign strategy? Oh, we'll just do what we always do!" they said, before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter.

After regaining composure, the Prime Minister began answering questions on his projected campaign results.

"I project a victory! And so will the news agencies! However, we do expect some setbacks in certain areas. We have not gotten an efficient stranglehold, er, I mean representation on the Internet. Nevertheless, we are well "represented" in other media" he added with a sideways glance to Information Minister Zainudin Maidin, who nodded vigourously.

"We also have many things the opposition lack", he continued, "These include police, autonomous bodies, gangsters, phantom voters, supporters over 100 years old, newspaper licenses, plus budak Election Commission itu is my super-kawan!

"But don't worry. I don't influence him. ELECTIONS WILL BE FAIR! AND FREE! NO CHARGE!", he bellowed, to more applause.

Wrapping up the press conference, the Prime Minister said, "But do you know why we are going to win the election? Its for one simple reason."

"This reason is that Thaipusam is now a public holiday! MALAYSIANS LOVE HOLIDAYS!" he said, as he stepped down from the podium to a thunderous standing ovation.

Go Archbishop, Its Your Birthday

2008-02-11T17:13:00.000+08:00

Doesn't Archbishop Rowan Williams have the strangest eyebrows and the swankiest beard ever? That's facial hair to rival a mullah.

Poor guy, getting stick for proposing a new idea. Balls of steel though, why the head of the Anglican Church would talk about the possibility of Shariah incorporation is beyond me. If only he didn't talk so metaphysically, and well, knew more of what he was talking about.

The Archbishop's comments were a little myopic to say the least, but hardly "untimely" with the swirling of democracy everywhere. Which is where we start to get a good overview.

Ah, democracy. I'm truly tiring of the word. Democracy this, democracy that, democracy owns, democracy kicks ass, democracy is absolute, democracy=freedom, democracy equals human rights, etcetera, etcetera etcetera. And of course the endless debate (or rant) of whether Islam is compatible with democracy. Hoo boy.

First off, let me start by stating that Islam has never had a problem with adopting democracy. I can't remember the exact quote in the Qur'an, but it goes something like,

"Oh you who believe! We have created you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. Verily the best among you are those who are pious."

Or something to that effect. The point is that Islam demands equality, that in the sight of God all are naked and alike, irregardless if religion, race or creed. Equality also contains The Rule of Law, where all are equal before the law, that all are accountable. This funny concept, strangely enough, is fundamental in democracy, and even stranger, is present in Islamic teaching.

During the fasting month, Muslims can opt to pray an extra prayer, which I usually attend at the mosque. There we stand, or bow, or prostrate as a single unit, shoulder to shoulder. Even the bigot of a deputy prime minister prays amongst us, morphing into a mortal.
Whether all that is a political ploy I refuse to speculate.

There are plenty of other examples that a scholar could better present. My point is, that there is no reason for Islam not to be compatible with democracy, or vice-versa. It's worth noting that democracy is adopted with other government forms existing before. As far as history goes, Muslims have yet to adopt a democracy that self-proclaimed democrats can be satisfied with.

The world is not ready for democracy.

It was an idea conceived by men who envisioned a completely enlightened society. Democracy is meant to give the power of decision to the people, provided they can make an informed one. Freedom of speech is meant to give voice to the people, provided they speak and argue intelligibly. What was supposed to stimulate discourse, ideas and productivity has only caused the rapid degradation of society. Democracy is for a utopia, not for the real world.

But its purportedly the best available, so we can excuse the sciolism.

You can draw your own conclusions, but one can summarise the reasons for the ideological rift between Islam and democracy, which boils down to a few points.

1) Failure of Islam to adopt a democratic government system - This boils down to sheer ignorance and illiteracy, where the polarisation of religious knowledge and everything else has created an unwillingness of Muslim leaders to accept a "western" idea. What's so wrong in borrowing something good, especially one which compliments Islam and gives growth to its understanding? Democracy is knowledge, knowledge is the way to understand the world, and God keeps it spinning.

2) Failure (or unwillingness) of "democracy" to accept Islam as democratic - Algeria 1992, Hamas elections in Palestine 2006. Hey, they were elected democratically!

3) Failure of Muslims to be good citizens of their country (Islamic or not) as well as good Muslims. Noone said the two are impossible. You live in Britain, you play by their rules.

4) Incompetence in the actual aspects of law, civil and Shariah alike.

This is where we return to Mr. Williams.

Civil Law - the principles of a defining document (generally a constitution) embodied in legislation to ensure its enforcement as well as its safeguard.

Shariah Law - the principles of a defining document (The Qur'an, Hadith) embodied in legislation to ensure its enforcement as well as its safeguard.

Same principle.
What's the difference?
Nothing, well other than the fact that one can be amended.

Generally speaking, the principles of the relevant document remain unchanged. It is however, our understanding of the principles with the continual development of our psyche, the implementation of the principles with accordance to the ever changing nature of the social, economic and political climate and the drafting of legislation based on those factors which are subject to the sands of time.

There is much hullabaloo about Shariah law, simply because those bleating don't understand law themselves, as well as the lateness of the due amendments in Shariah legislation. When i say amendments here, I mean the kinks that should have been worked out ages ago now that feudalism and absolute monarchy have been filed under "superannuated".

Maybe the Archbishop in stating his case, should have presented it from a "Islam is compatible with democracy" angle, instead of the "We should incorporate Islam into our democracy" line. In essence the two are one in the same, but the vagaries of language give birth to Islamophobic nuances. I figure his point must have been that a government should take care of its citizens, culturally even, with neither him nor the rest of the world aware of the similarities that already exist. I'm no Shariah or civil law expert, but this whole issue was a lot of hot air.

In many ways the utopia of Islam and democracy are similar. Both are meant for enlightened societies where every problem has its discussion, where every problem has its practical solution, where education and ingenuity runs riot in a society that demands it in excess, where enlightenment rids society of its diseases.

Dried Ink

2008-02-01T23:13:00.000+08:00

Maybe I left the cap on, the pen ran dry spilled all over the floor rapaciously, draining the ink into the crevasses of a parquet floor, or maybe this ridiculous weather has had my brains fried into neurotic mush that Gray's Anatomy could better explain.

The book, not the show.

Whatever the excuse, its been awhile since I've been able to bring myself to write anything remotely significant. But what does one consider significant anyways? Politics? Racial issues? Religious misunderstanding? Movie reviews? "What I did today"?

Well I got my university application almost sorted out. And I mean almost strictly here, because educational bureaucracy stamps its foot in my way by proclaiming my English impotency. Maybe its just me because I regard my language ability as the only thing I have, therefore it especially pisses me off. But generally speaking, the entire system is designed to deny countless their right to education. Not just at Monash, were i'm headed, but tertiary education in general.

I remember from the movie "Accepted", a dialogue between dean and student :

"You know what makes universities special? Rejection."

People spew about minimum requirements, academic achievements, an excellence of character as criteria in order to be accepted into a top-grade university. All for what? The maintenance of exceptional quality graduates and the standard of academic brilliance that plays on everyone's lips, whilst denying a healthy education to others.

Idealistically speaking I would have gone to LSE to study a PPE. but I didn't apply, simply because my grades wouldn't have been regarded, not to mention the sale of my soul (or rather, my parents). But that's not to say I don't deserve to study there. Just because I don't meet the requirements means I'm not able enough for their program, while a friend of mine who has a bottomless pockets snags a place? There is no measure for intelligence or genius, neither is there a measure for importance. Mental class societies are what destroy us all, the farcical believe that one should breathe a cleaner air as compared to another, that one is more deserving than another; all those who work, work hard, all those who strive, strive hard.
Bureaucracy determines who gets the best education, the best credentials, and the best chance of making an impact, while at the same time ensuring the poor remain illiterate and uneducated. There is so much talk of education and alleviation of poverty, but what we really stand for is our sickening kleptocratic society.

But then again the system exists for reasons that probably surpass me, and this may just be a rant of one denied a dream education. That said I, as well as the rest of the world, deserves the best education there is available, but its the institution that denies us that right.

2008-01-03T23:26:00.000+08:00

Finger dips in taste of chaos! What a crazy past week plus. The assassination of Benazir Bhutto, Arsenal losing the top spot and regaining it, (excuse me if I'm the only one who notices the relevance), the end of a year (boo), the tumultuous Kenyan election and the Malaysian health minister getting his sheets tangled up on dvd. I hope he used protection. Nothing like germ-free adultery!

There's no need to expound on his moral (or lack of) values, as that would be an imposition of view, ironic as the imposition of views is why my blog exists. Anyways, if said minister wants to go fishing, that's his aphrodisiac. What blows is the unanimous support he received from his BN peers. Sure, it takes a man to come out and admit his mistakes, and resign a day after screaming to the headlines how he wouldn't, but the matter of the fact is that he did something wrong and noone vilifies him for it. The reprimanding of a wrongdoing is essential in correcting a wrong, especially in the public eye. What on earth is everyone gonna think when they read how the government is proud, and only proud, of how he came out and owned up? Especially when it was stressed that he resigned from his posts and was not fired. Its like telling a kid who's stolen candy, "No worries young lad, so long as you know you did wrong you can get away with it. Its a good idea to pay the storekeeper, but its okay if you don't, because at least you admitted you stole it."

Load of rubbish.

What sucks even more is that his wife and kids can't do anything other than support him, as political correctness dictates the course of their emotions. Anger from his wife would be admonition, therefore it can't be made known. What's that? She actually supports him? Ask your wife, girlfriend, your sister, hell, your mom, whether they'd be lackadaisical about it. Or ask Soko, she seems to know how to feel.

With regards to Benazir Bhutto, there's nothing to say that hasn't already been said. All i can say is that is was murder. Irregardless of who she was, what the accusations were, it was cold-blooded murder. Period.

The world is going to hell, ladies and gentlemen! The end is nigh! Repent sinners!

Perspective

2007-12-14T22:28:00.001+08:00

So i'm back from my holiday in Egypt and my extended holiday in the Philippines. It would be time wasting to pen a piece of Egypt, just pick up your nearest guidebook. Manila however, was something else.

Attending the Southeast Asian Forum on Islam and Democracy (on a sponsored trip, I might add) was an attendance that brought home perspective. The forum was near irrelevant for me, but it was the side dishes and the room slippers that left its effect. The virginal experience of being on my own in a foreign country amidst alien elements and contingencies has left me frangible to say the least.

What I may have known to be right could well have been a farce, well disguised among the threads of naivety and bonds of chastity. They say Antony was a good politician for his diplomacy, a characteristic that has well dissolved on the flight home, 40000 feet in the air and deep in thought. All it took was a throwaway discussion that spawned confusion slivering to the cores, melting the basic institutions of my mental stability into mush. You could drown your head in a bathtub of water but naught would seep out, imprinted perpetually like a tattoo, in places that may one day become recesses of the mind, I wouldn't be able to determine now. Like a paper aeroplane that flies against the laws of engineering, carried by the draft of a zephyr blowing in the opposite direction, unsure of its raison d'etre or its destination.

Such a revelation will leave its mark. What it manifests into, what the scar looks like. But for the first time in as long as i can remember, I discarded impulse for practicality.

2007-11-24T17:46:00.000+08:00

Egypt for two weeks.

And soon, You will not be able to Breathe: My report from the Bersih Rally

2007-11-10T22:09:00.001+08:00

This is not some second-hand story; this is an account from the front line.

These are not borrowed photographs; these are pictures from the epicentre.

Because that was what the situation descended to in the city centre this afternoon, where my entire view of the present government was shattered the moment I saw those first gas cannisters fly. You can read it in a paper, on a website, in a forwarded email, but the magnanimity of the brutality will never compare to the panic that infiltrated into my being and the fear that I now harbour for the government.

You could feel the stillness in the air, the sudden descent of tension into the atmosphere. Ominous signs paraded before us; my younger brother, my sister and I before we even left the house. We headed toward the city via the Putra LRT where Shaz managed this almost candid shot of policemen in RapidKL uniforms being briefed by a senior officer.

Once we exited the station at Masjid Jamek we were greeted by the ever heart-warming sight of riot police. Here they call them the Federal Reserve Unit but they are nothing more than mercenaries in uniform; zealots armed with batons and gas launchers completely apathetic to the growing crowd, swollen by passer-bys and passionate Malaysians. The police sprayed preliminary water-cannon fire on the crowd which I wasn't to concerned about; it was only upon reaching home that I found out they were contaminated with chemicals.

Now there is something of great importance that I need to stress; in no way, absolutely none, did the demonstrators aim to incite the police. There was lots of chanting, of slogan shouting, of crowd rallying but there was no hatred or contempt hurled against those in power. In short, we did not merit the treatment we received. One may say, "But it was an illegal gathering anyway." How can the executive issue a decree banning the people in a democracy from voicing their opinion? We are not looking for a riot. We're not looking for impeachment. We're not looking for a revolution. We want clean elections. After all, if the government did its job efficiently without corruption, racism and wanton aggression, why would we want to vote for the opposition? The demonstration today was truly model. A peaceful, passionate crowd standing defiant in a completely passive manner. It was a moment to remember, the solidarity on the faces of others as we stared down the threats in the hope of a better tomorrow.

All until the police became violent.

And then God played his hand; the heavens opened as it started to pour. As the precipitation flowed down my skin a sickening sight developed before my eyes. If you notice in the above picture, the corner was crowded with people having made some headway only for cannon fire to push us back to the aforementioned corner. That's when the police formed a line and fired tear gas at the crowd.

Fellow Malaysians, firing on their countrymen.
It wasn't so much as the actual shooting which was horrendous, but seeing them take their line of sight made my stomach turn. These uncompassionate robots, protectors of the society shooting against the people they swear to protect. Here they are ladies and gentlemen, "dispersing crowds" while paedophiles run riot, pun very much intended.

When they fired they shot directly infront of the crowd. Shaz and I happened to be caught in between a mass of bodies and a drain barrier. Just like some bad war movie, everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the cannister rolled to a stop barely 10 feet away. Time sped back to normal as the people around me started scrambling into the nearby station. Shaz and I were stuck outside but fortunately my brother was pulled in by a fairy-tale hero.

"Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" but don't give me tear gas. The following account is in no way dramatisation; it is, as it is. Maybe it was my severe underestimation of the pain both physical and psychological, that caused my hesitation. If not for the rain, I shudder to think of the potential pain. Had I known...

Completely immobile and covering our faces with wet cloths we were powerless for a good 45 seconds to the gas. Initially, you feel a sting in your nose. As the pain increases, it ignites your eyeballs into blindness. As the pain mounts unbearable with tears streaming uncontrollably out of your eyes, the gas enters the pores on your face; the sensation acid to the pH. As you try and escape the gas running literally blind with your skin aflame, the gas enters your lungs constricting respiration to almost nil. Every inhalation you take is void of oxygen and soon you will not be able to breathe. More than once the thought of death surfaced in my mind, as I moved with and not fought against the crowd to clear the area. Shazee later told me she thought she was as good as gone as well. Tear gas brings you to the edge of death, only for you to be resuscitated back into Hell.

Finally we broke into the station where the gas was less. The stations themselves had all been shutdown, effectively freezing all those in the city centre as the station officials looked on with barely masked glee. The three of us huddled in a small corner, tears, mucus and saliva smeared all over our faces like a child's hand painting, resisting the temptation to throw up. We sat there recuperating for much of the time before continuing down the street away from the uncivil servants. We lingered on the corner based on the foolish presumption that the police wouldn't shoot again with so many ordinary civilians. Around us were myriad characters, from women and children to armchair politicians raised to a fury.

And then they fired again.

Now I'm unaware in the ensuing panic whether they fired two volleys or one for as we moved away from the gas (by the way, huge kudos to all BERSIH chaps for ensuring people kept cool) we turned into the corner. The shots were similar to the first episode in that they we're fired infront of the crowd, however, as we entered the corner there was ANOTHER canister on my right barely 10 feet away. What luck.

As we scrambled yet again in my mind I was still able to ponder, as the familiar pain returns, "Are they aware of how devastatingly painful it is?" I question the tactics of the police. Why fire so unbelievably close to the crowd? The gas is supposed to deter and disperse, not to cause chaos and anarchy. How would they have liked it, that fatalistic sensation creeping upon themselves?

We were able to move quicker this time. The crowd pushed and heaved past empty buildings, knocking over motorcycles carelessly parked. An entry point of one office building and we all rushed in, taking to the stairs and as the sensation died down, the sight in the stairwell was one to behold. Like some kind of urban warfare, there were people slumped against the wall faces in disarray, completely broken in spirit, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Around went a saviour passing out salt which miraculously rid us of the worst effects almost instantly. Resigned to painful defeat, we decided to walk back home since public transport at the mercy of the government.

Funnily enough, we found ourselves walking towards Istana Negara, where the memo was to be passed to the king. And i've just learned from dad that as we left the city, people lingered on as a decoy, while a mass gathering took place at the Istana. Ingenious, when you see the size of the crowd. Once again, hats off and big kudos the the organisers who did a fantastic job of keeping everyone calm, orderly, help direct traffic, etcetera etcetera.
At the Istana, it was a normal looking sort of demonstratio, one which did not look like it was gonna get ugly. Cheers as I presume the memo was handed over and the crowd slowly dispersed. As quickly as the tear gas hit, it was all over.

Even now, as I write this, I feel a mild headache coming on. It may or may not be a side effect, but surely the worrying thing is my willingness to believe it is born out of injustice. For now, I have come to a deeper understanding as to why private security is still employed despite the police, and I may cower everytime I see smoke or smell something foreign in the air.
Today serves as a landmark for my patriotism. Today serves as a landmark for the nation's patriotism, for in the face of such cruelty and opposition we prevailed and were crowned victors of the day. I also hope that with the events of today, change shall, God willing, be effected. The people have spoken, the people have risen, the people have taken action. The onus passes to the King as a test of strength, and to the government to clean up its act.

You want the votes? Bloody earn it.

The Dichotomy of Literature

2007-11-07T23:50:00.000+08:00

NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

John Keats, Ode to Melancholy

Literature, the study of it at least, is a strange thing. The raison d'etre of its study is extinguished once you sit on that damn chair, pick up your pen and etch-a-sketch already pre-sketched by some other critic. Literature, by definition, is completely hermeneutics, however eventhough one's opinion is factual, or at least palatable, one still has to conform to specific opinions expressed by others in order to achieve that illusory A. "Substantiated bullshit" vapourises in the face of such conflict, creating a dichotomy between the idea of study and study for exam sake. Embarrassing, it really is, to be unable to express an honest opinion because its not expected.

The best form of literature, I believe anyways, is one interpreted in isolation of other opinions. Every prose, poetry, novel or any text may relate to different people in different ways, with accordance to the uniqueness of the human psyche. haha don't you think so? Lets not take away our extensive capacity as ordinary limited, susceptible beings.
So please don't tell me "this is what Shakespeare meant by his use of rhyming couplets" or, "Keats intended for us to understand this with his use of imagery and caesura" because hell if we know what they intended. All they intended, as I believe once again, was for us to relate to their relevant pieces as we wish. yup.

Bugger off Cambridge, and Ms Elizabeth, while I'm at it.

2007-11-04T23:01:00.000+08:00

That was just to get everyone's attention.

Something the sis pointed out, the death of a journalist in Uzbekistan. Although I may disagree with the way the article tried to bend over backwards in its assertion of the illusory "freedom" and "truth", it nevertheless highlights an important point, that someone trying to get to uncover the truth was assassinated. Note that the premiere of Uzbekistan name is Islam. All these people hijacking what's not theirs, but what I want to point out is how BBC changed it from "Islom". that's "free press" for you, asserting their own bias in everything.

We can draw a parallel to Pakistan and its "emergency rule". Nonsense, isn't it? I just read on AlJazeera that its necessary to curb "extremists". That's just like Mr.Premiere in Uzbekistan, his regime reputedly one of the most repressive in the world. Going after those "Islamic Extremists", he says. These leaders and their sciolism. Repressive regimes from hell, and what's worst, fully endorsed by the Police Canine of the World, America.

America who calls civilian deaths in the Middle East "collateral damage", America who claimed Saddam had WMD, America, the self-proclaimed beacon of democracy and individual rights, sit in their corner and make kuih while Musharraf and Karimov run rampant.

I just finished watching a highlight on Malaysia, particularly race divides and the NEP. There be some things I disagree with, particularly on the subject of racial divide. Its over-dramatised, I would say. Take nothing away from the state of affairs in this country though. There's no need for a 30% quota anymore, poverty should now be eradicated on a person by person basis. Positive discrimination of all races for a balance. Meritocracy. Legion D'Honneur instead of Datukships. No more annoblis bullshit.

Bersih. What's left to say?

why not eh?

2007-11-04T00:33:00.000+08:00

5 things found in my room
1. textbooks strewn across the floor, coupled with plenty of notes.
2. my sarong.
3. a mini-library.
4. an un-made bed.
5. cds.

5 things I've always wanted to do
1. fly a plane.
2. Visit Cuba (me too)
3. jam with Dave Grohl
4. become Prime Minister
5. drink teh tarik for all three meals. (not counting extra meals)

5 things found in my bag
1. Tort Law
2. Contract Law
3. French Revolution textbook
4. Pens
5. The Catcher in The Rye (vindication)

5 things found in my wallet
1. money (not much of)
2. receipts
3. a scooby-doo 2 movie ticket
4. a letter from the missus
5. DRIVER'S LICENSE!

5 things I am currently into
1. politics
2. religion
3. philosophy
4. physics
5. language

5 persons to be tagged
1. Whoever
2. Reads
3. This
4. Is
5. Taggedjustlikeshazeesays

2007-11-04T00:15:00.000+08:00

I'd be damned if I ever had to give up teh tarik. Or mother's chai. Don't ask me to pick, each has its mood. There's a specific time for both, just like how on some days one might pick nasi lemak over roti canai. Personally, roti canai for me is more of a Sunday thing, which spans back from those long ago times when we use to climb Gasing Hill and eat at Raju's. Oh how i miss those days.

I don't know whether to embrace or repulse the elucidation of food in Malaysia. What would you pick?

To quote the sister, "BERSIH rally, 10/11 3pm @ Dataran Merdeka, even if we get arrested".

What would you pick? There's not much to be said on the subject that hasn't already been said.

Et quaqumque viam dederit fortuna sequamur.

Just watch.

A2

2007-10-23T23:31:00.000+08:00

A 2

The Midnight Hour is at hand;With Fear creeping across the land.The beginning of the end, is A2;question is,will you make it through? But making it through isn't it, your grades could still be shit.Making it great is what counts, and as we work the pressure mounts.

While we work and study, We start to remember our buddies.As we start to reminisce,Dammit, I can't find anything to rhyme with this. I feel like studying is all i know, No chicks no fun, no nothing but sorrow.

But soon my friends we shall be free,and on the Cambridge shield we shall pee. No more DotA, no more CS, Off to get my BS.Once again we go our separate ways, But no my friends, this is not the end of our days.For we shall meet once again, In a year, or ten,For bonds were formed that were so strong, They could not be broken by any wrong.

So let us smile and rejoice,While we re-sit our multiple choice.For in the end we all know, that there's happiness and no sorrow.I bid good luck to all my friends, and as we go through A2's loops and bends, let us not forget the awesome mix, that was 0606.

by abhay & aditya, friends of those A Levelers

Teh Tarik In Space

2007-10-10T23:05:00.001+08:00

Somewhere, deep in the urban jungle of Malaysia, in a Mamak...

Anonymous Malaysian Politician A : "Any idea how i can pocket a bundle of cash from something which derives some 'public benefit'? You know lah, make my face more friendly looking."

Anonymous Malaysian Politician B : "Send a man to space lah!"

Anonymous Malaysian Politician A "Good idea! The Russians always give me a good deal. Then the public thinks i'm doing something 'beneficial' for the country! Settle!"

Both laugh.

3..2..1...RM 72 million blasts off into space!

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against the space programme. That would be most stupid and unpatriotic. Its cool that Malaysia's sending an astronaut/space tourist to space. Good publicity.
Makes us look quite cun.
Progressive multi-cultural Islamic/secular state.
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

I have no problem with launching a man into blackened oblivion.

My point is it would have been cool if the country spent the cash improving welfare internally, not on national pride and patriotism stemmed from public image.
Wouldn't it be way cooler if you could say your country was corrupt free, with an efficient police force and a competent vastly educated public?
Personally, i don't really care too much about what other people think of Malaysia. this is the best country in the world and i know it. Personally, i'd love to feel that pride because my country used 72 million to eradicate literal and metaphorical illiteracy, vanquished corruption, and made healthcare free.

Imagine, with 72 million :

a) Improve civil servant wages, denoting corruption

b) Eradicate poverty (if Muhammad Yunus has a way, so should we)

c) More competent internal security, so things like what happened to Nurin DON'T happen

d) Better CSI equipment, apparently ours sucks, so that bastard can be found and shot

e) Education, on everything from negligence to theology, an entire nation of intelligentsia would be impressive..

f) An independent money-fueled enquiry into that judiciary incident

(Politician A: "if you investigate me, take some money, don't lah."
Politician B: "Nah its okay, they'll give me 72 million if i find you guilty..")

g) Free healthcare (i feel its a human right)

They may seem idealistic, but so did the Declaration of Rights of Man during the French Revolution, and a little incoherent, but that's cuz of all the extra crap in my brain right now, which i have to get back to.

But since he's up there....

MALAYSIA BOLEH!

Story Of My Life.

2007-10-04T23:03:00.000+08:00

i was bored and took photos of my table. whoop.

Meltdown

2007-09-30T13:44:00.000+08:00

Although it must be increasingly obvious by now, this page takes a hiatus til the end of November, due to the inevitable fact of my recurring nightmare, in the form of a retake A Levels. As Abhay would put it,

"Fucking Swedes."

So there you have it. Word of advice to anyone doing A's, study like there's no tomoro. i thought that studying til 4 in the morning was ridiculous til i realised i've been doing the same.

Possibly the most frustrating element out of studying is the non-elimination of the fact that irregardless of what I may think, the future of my education and the level of my intelligence is deemed by some white guy whom i have never met and will probably never meet marking information that anyone could read in a book. to quote Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes,

"They'd rather teach us stuff that any idiot can look up in a book."

Studying and fasting leads to an exhausting day. damn exams.

Desi Hydraulics

2007-09-09T22:54:00.000+08:00

yes, that is Abhay.

I HEREBY DECLARE BIG APPLE'S GLACIER TO BE THE BEST DONUT I'VE EATEN THUS FAR

Frisk Me, I'm Muslim

2007-09-05T23:21:00.000+08:00

Beautiful song by Steve Earle about John Walker Lindh called, "John Walker's Blues".

Oh, the Vagaries of the English Language

2007-09-05T23:05:00.000+08:00

Abhay and i go about defining "smart".

abhay says: u want me to define it for you?

r a s h a a d says: don't shit your pants la dude
yeah what you think smart means

AbHaY- show time says:err
intelligent?

r a s h a a d says:hahah
that's not an answer, its a label
AbHaY- show time says:okay
if u want my opinion of smart
i'd say someone who has broken a certain barrier in their mind.(the ignorance barrier if you will). and gets curious. Due to this curiosity, this person obtains more and more knowlege. In the process of obtaining this knowlege, he gets addicted to knowlege and so grows his curiosity. why? because knowlege is power supreme. and power is addictive. but when it comes to knowlege, its in a good way. i can go into further detail to describe what i feel smart is but im too lazy. and i feel that they should come up with a better word for something that means so much.
but thats just my definition
:)
bet u think im a moron right now haha
r a s h a a d says:haha interesting la.you see i was extremely bored yesterday,so i was thinking (never a good thing)
and decided that smart by definition doesnt exist,the more accurate word is "capable".
because there's nothing to differentiate between the two of us, everything's there to learn,its just who's more adept at what.
you knowing science doesnt make you smarter,it just makes you more capable than me.

AbHaY- show time says: But dont you think you are equally capable as i am? everyone has the CAPABILITY.

r a s h a a d says: nope. we all have the capability.but i'm not too good with facts and stuff.
therefore i'm less capable.

AbHaY- show time says:capability makes us capable..and dude, if ure not good at facts, there are things you can do to change that.
my mathematical aptitude was crap 4 years ago.

r a s h a a d says:haha if this makes sense, you've used your capability to make yourself more capable.

AbHaY- show time says: yeah, makes complete sense, because everyone has the capability to do everything.
but then it makes me wonder..lets look at jimi hendrix..what the hell made him so damn good at the guitar?
i doubt it was hell of a lot of practice because alot of other guitarists practiced as much or more than he did..
maybe its inspiration?
which is a whole different thing on its own
bastard, u got me thinking..

r a s h a a d says:alright here have some more..we are influenced by our environment,which in turn influences our specific capability.
make sense?

AbHaY- show time says:yeah, true.

r a s h a a d says: somewhere jimi found something which led to a thought which led to a thought which led to an idea on a guitar.

Stand Inside Your Love

2007-09-03T20:38:00.000+08:00

Stagnation is a lie.
There's no such thing as being constant in one place for a prolonged period.
There's no such thing as unchanging matter.
There's no such thing as being able to sit in this chair in front of my computer, watch the days roll by, and remain the same when i get up.
Everything has an impact greater than zero.
Every second is different from the last.
There's no such thing as remaining unchanged. Even if the change is too small for us to notice.
One can only progress or regress.
Its not stagnation, its regression.

Life is easier to lead without an opinion. People are less quick to judge and damn you for your thoughts and expressions. People are less likely to view you as condescending in knowledge. One might not even know that their opinion isn't appreciated.
We are all so blind...

2007-08-23T23:45:00.001+08:00

More proof that my friends are uber cool.

*naf -Ureeeya- [Land of Rhythm*Infernal*] KickIng iT Old SchOoL says: (11:39:50 PM)
oh ya..ALI!

*naf -Ureeeya- [Land of Rhythm*Infernal*] KickIng iT Old SchOoL says: (11:39:53 PM)
how's the missus

*naf -Ureeeya- [Land of Rhythm*Infernal*] KickIng iT Old SchOoL says: (11:39:59 PM)
:)

r a s h a a d says: (11:40:21 PM)
she's good

r a s h a a d says: (11:40:23 PM)
haha

r a s h a a d says: (11:40:29 PM)
how's the other guy?

*naf -Ureeeya- [Land of Rhythm*Infernal*] KickIng iT Old SchOoL says: (11:42:37 PM)
HARHAR

- ×†¤« JacQ- YNWA »¤†× Torres!!!! Whee! my results... crap!. *mixed feelings* says: (11:41:56 PM)
and c.ronaldo is so fucking ugly. i dont knw why girls actually like him. go stare at torres instead

2007-08-23T21:56:00.000+08:00

3E's post awhile ago....

Let's see, yest...whilst sleeping with aherm ; ) hahaha...ok well before that...maybe a few weeks ago..was doing some reevaluating; "What men and women find most important to them"...ya know what of those ranking shits..? 1 - 10

I asked someone and it was nice to get an honest answer. I asked Him (who shall not be named XP)

He said..the most imp to him...(quite unexpected, I mean after knowing him for awhile, never knew his priorities)

1. Family
2. Studies
3.Money
4. Friends
5. Between GF and Sports (actually he placed GF first but he said it depends, he currently doesn't have a gf so he doesn't know how he feels)

what i responded...

rashaad said...

hmmmmm..... interesting.... hahaha. i dont like to rank lah. everyone and everything's important.

but she is most. hahaha

August 13, 2007 3:41 PM
Delete
Ur3Es'Ya said...

hehe LOVE the fact that you do =P
- was trying to look for one who would say that but eventually those ppl I asked had ranks -

Nasi lemaks to you Rash! haha

August 14, 2007 11:19 AM

and that makes 3E cool! hahaha

Physics Part 2

2007-08-16T00:11:00.000+08:00

This follows a continuation of the conversation between Mr. Abhay Kanchan and myself, with the topic of discussion veering to the fact of human beings being "slowed-down light". Disclaimer: The following has been once again dramatised for reading pleasure.

"r a s h a a d says: okay.
we'd have to start at the beginning naturally, for everything to make sense."

"AbHaY says: ok,start."

We started the conversation with the beginning of the material universe with the Big Bang, the creation of sub-atomic particles from electromagnetic radiation caused by the collision of photons(light) with relation to the expansion of the universe. Abhay politely comments on my impressive scientific knowledge for someone who doesn't study the subject.

"r a s h a a d says:so inevitably subatomic particles consist of photons right?"
(Meaning that if you examined what sub-atomic particles were, they'd be collided photons.)

We continued to discuss how the joining of sub-atomic particles form atoms, atoms through nuclear fission form elements, and then you get your various molecules.

"r a s h a a d says: elements and molecules form amino acids right?"

"AbHaY says:wtf yes but how is that related?"

"r a s h a a d says: im getting there."

"Amino acids are the building blocks of life right?", I asked him which he replied in accord. "Its where you get your protein and shit, biological life and then arranged in its most complex manner, you basically get us, correct?"

"AbHaY says: yeess..."

"r a s h a a d says: now scroll up."

"r a s h a a d says: we are a material representation of light arranged in its most complex possible form, hence "slowed-down light".

The conclusion can be reached using Einstein's formula, where if we as mass were to travel at the speed of light, we would be energy/photons.

"AbHaY says:wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"

"AbHaY says: thats damn cool."

"AbHaY says:its all so clear to me now
thanks man
that was interesting"

And so Abhay decided to return to his Physics, as I decided to return to my writing and await the next opportunity to discuss science philosophically.

The End

Physics Part 1

2007-08-15T22:53:00.000+08:00

This follows a conversation about physics between myself and Mr. Abhay Kanchan. Disclaimer: The conversation has been dramatised for reading pleasure. I'm not trying to make myself sound smart. haha. This information was obtained from the book, The Unified Theory of Existence, in my possession.

The intellectual pair are online, when Abhay, the A level science stream student engages a conversation with the arty-farty one.

In the corner of my computer screen an instant message window pops up.

"AbHaY says: fuck this la. physics is a bitch."

I realise the potential of a good discussion is at hand. "What are you studying?" I send back in reply."Physics..." he replies with a tinge of annoyance. Its been the zeitgeist of many A level students recently. Calmly I ask him to elaborate.

"AbHaY says: ?! since when were u so interested in physics?"

It was my turn to taste slight displeasure. I personally find science fascinating, so long as I don't have to sit for an exam. Coincidentally, Abhay was studying Einstein's famous formula, one which I had recently acquainted myself with, E=MC^2.

"r a s h a a d says: oh yeah.i understand that"

"AbHaY says: u do?"

I explained to him that I understood what it meant and how it could be applied, and its possible impact. "You know right, that the formula helps prove the existence of God and stuff?", I asked tentatively. He replied by telling me it was something he hadn't read yet, and I told him it lay in the area of quantum physics/relativity theory.

"It sorta changes everything doesn't it? How the universe as it was previously perceived as to having mechanical laws and shit sorta evaporates." I stated. Abhay was puzzled at my worldview, and queried as to how quantum physics shows the existence of God. "Its from light", i said, "which is the link between the absolute existence and the material existence as we know and perceive with our logic, and how everything isn't following set laws, but its rather expressing themselves to the full with accordance to their environment, aka a level of free will, and all of which is imprinted in light."

"AbHaY says: wtf. i dont get how electrons that produce photons by losing energy are related to god. i do understand the no fixed law part. light can act as a wave as well as a particle."

That being the seemingly contradictory characteristic of light, its duality. I told him of how light shares no qualities or characteristics with the material existence.

"r a s h a a d says: im not very good at expressing myself scientifically."

"AbHaY says: lol."

We share a hearty laugh based on my scientific ineptitude in school. I decide to launch another topic of discussion.

"r a s h a a d says: and you know that from e=mc2 essentially we are all slowed down light? its two ways of perceiving it again."

"AbHaY says:we are slowed down light?!:S...what?dude...dude!!!!!!"

"r a s h a a d says:think about it....."

"AbHaY says:WE are light?"

Abhay disagreed with me wholesale. "We merely absorb/reflect light.", he told me. "That's light on a 3D plane, a material representation of light.", I replied. I asked him what would happen if he ran at the speed of light, but I was unable to express myself properly.

"r a s h a a d says: okay let me try to explain.it requires me to turn off the music.bear with me man in my limits of science."

"AbHaY says: hahaha...i'll try."

2007-08-15T21:50:00.000+08:00

I feel very patriotic after last night's talk. I don't know enough about Keadilan, but they've got their ideas right, a very socialistic approach. They've got my vote. If I could vote. Oh the fallacy of democracy.

On another note, me and Zee went to the Cuban Ambassador's "farewell party" and came home with a Churchill...

2007-08-13T15:13:00.000+08:00

never really used my blog as a political platform before.

guess it couldn't hurt.

SMS from my dad: " Anwar Ibrahim talk on Tuesday 14 Aug [that's tomorrow] 8pm at Selangor Chinese Assembly Hall across Merdeka Stadium. Bring along your friends!"

see you there.

2007-08-12T21:14:00.000+08:00

that be a test.

Do you call this a response post? Still continuing on the general topic of slights and racism from the last post.

In a multi-cultural society where one race is a ruling party there will continually be disputes and discontentment. The term multi-cultural is rightly annoying the crap outta me. With all the diversity one is inevitably going to see every single viewpoint. Thats where discontent Indians pop up and university students calling for Gwen Stefani's concert to be cancelled. What it viewed as the norm by some is viewed as something completely warped by others. It is said everywhere that what makes our country special and unique is the food and the aura of our society. My best friends are hardly dominated by Melayu chaps. My significant other's Chinese. but there's always gonna be a hard ass, who for better or for worse, doesn't recognise the ruling party's superiority. Its strange really, its not like Malaysia is unique in that aspect, all around the world there are various race quotas and what not. The difference is how we deal with it.

ddee says we're all racist to a degree. I don't 100% disagree, but it would better to phrase it as people find comfort with people they can relate to. A Malay with a Malay, an Indian with an Indian, a Fijian with a Fijian, will find comfort in familiarity, and thus there is a stronger bond than with those who exist outside it. Thats not racism, its brotherhood.

To deal with racism. I was reading the other day from this Malaysian blog myAsylum about the perceived problem in this country, where on one side you've got the want for an Islamic State and on the other side a bunch of people fearing for their freedom, democracy, drug availibility, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Unfortunately the writer chooses to hide behind some pseudonym, but whatever. Anyways he proposes a "Final Solution" (if that was supposed to be a joke, it surely wasn't funny) where a complete breakoff and segregation should take place.

Has history taught us nothing? Berlin Blockade? Cuban Missile Crisis?

Again all this is based from a "keyboard viewpoint". I think i'll patent that. By keyboard viewpoint i mean someone who sits infront of their computer all day, reading reports and blogging with an opinion like their some kind of authority. Ignorance is any real human being's enemy. Any sane, ethical person would learn as much as they possibly could before passing judgement. Why should we fear information? Why should we disagree with learning more? Why do we choose to be opinionated fools without knowing all the facts? As we all know, "The Truth shall set you free."

All I call for is for people to see it from every angle. If we observed everything from every angle and we think objectively, how can we NOT come to a right conclusion? Thats how i propose to begin to find grounds to reconcile. There's much to be said in this area, and im still learning. It will stop all the slander and conjecture, and will halt mankind's slide to destruction.

The End is nigh, ladies and gentlemen, but we could do well to delay it.

2007-08-11T10:56:00.000+08:00

Sometimes its quite sickening to flip through the newspapers.

so yesterday i picked up the NST after a long hiatus, skimmed over the fire in Kluang and landed upon an ince size caption of "I did not mean to insult Malays".

Being a Malay (well, half, but it counts) its thoroughly annoying to see continued sleight-of-hand racism in country's greatest distributor of affairs. Sure, there is a lot of discrimination from Malays against other races in this country, and privileges that others may deem unfair, but thats not the point. If there are Malays discriminating others, shame on them. Damn them to hell. May they burn and rot there. its this pathetic stance that Malays take that makes all tudung-wearing women and Muslim name men scapegoats for 50 years of discontentment.
I'm sorry to say that the Malays in this country as we know them severely embarrass me with their revolting attitude. But at the same time, I'm embarrassed by my fellow countrymen of other races for not dealing with the problem like adults.

Moving on to the article, apparently some Chinese brother studying in Taiwan decided to launch his rap career with a "satirical social commentary on life in Malaysia as a Chinese", posted on YouTube. Unfortunately its in Mandarin and I'm a fool for not understanding the language.
First of all, in a country where topics of race are so finely balanced, this excuse for a laugh can seriously be done away with. What is it with all these brilliant people who decide to say things THEY KNOW are gonna cause a stir? I respect one's freedom of speech and opinion, but at the same time, its abuse is unethical and simply not privy to people likely to get offended. This Wee Meng Chee has really done the country a serious disservice. Irregardless of whether it was supposed to be some kinda joke, it was always gonna incite some sort of unnecessary racial disharmony. Malays and Muslims are rightly offended. everybody else is taking a "liberal" stand, talking about keeping an open mind. If someone insults you, your just supposed to laugh along? What is the need for such discord? As a multicultural society, shouldn't we be constantly working towards peaceful coexistence?

It was just a joke, you say. excerpt from the article :

"In the video, the 24 year-old Wee associated the 5am Azan call with a morning call and said the person praying sang out of tune sometimes which made it sound like a rooster's crow."

This guy is 24 years old and as ignorant as sheep in New Zealand. For me, I find it rather insensitive but i don't take great offense, but undoubtedly, one look at that statement and you know someone somewhere is greatly offended. It may have been "just a joke" but it was very unnecessary. There are more angry people than laughing people. easily.

compare it with Chris Tucker's joke in Rush Hour 3 :

Jackie Chan : "If your half-chinese, i'm half-black."
Chris Tucker : "I'm sorry Lee, you cant be black, there's a height requirement."

One discrimination doesn't make another right. discriminating against chinese in SPM doesn't give this schmuck license to discriminate against a 5am prayer.

this country has been riddled by racial problems since its beginning 50 years ago. but all we do is bitch in philistinism.

the ignorance of man is astounding. here we are in this time and age, with such advance technology and higher understanding, and we still bicker like kids over candy.

2007-08-08T22:58:00.000+08:00

results out tomoro.
should i be worried?

oh yeah.

oh the vagaries of life...

2007-08-06T23:13:00.000+08:00

one of those blog-lull periods, so long that i had to check my calendar and dee's blog to remind myself what i did! haha
so its the 8th now, last post was on the 22, so thats two weekends of recap..
anyways, the holidays are seriously starting to bore me. i've finished another 2 books already.

so i believe it was last-last week when i dispatched myself to MCKL. abhay bitch tits was supposed to pick me up at 645, but being the floppy funbags he is he woke up at 650. so i decided to jog my way down to the lrt station, and when i got there so had abhay with the princess pei pei. they said i was walking to the car like an indon. i say they were still sleepy.
so we went to pick up 3E from sentral, and because we all had different ways to get there we pusing tiga kali around the fuckin buildin, with poor ureee waiting inside. off to MCKL, where we were assigned basketball recording duties. to quote the princess,

"It was alright. At one point, we were all busy eating till we didnt concentrate on the game that was going on. In short; we're the last lot anyone should put on the table. teehee."

the nasi lemak was free, okay.

......dont let us out in public.

so after all that, bitch tits, the princess and 3E came back to my place to have a shower. 3E took particularly long, and abhay got bored while waiting....

i passed my driving test last week monday. since getting my license on friday i've been sending and picking up non-stop.

i watched the simpsons. it was good.

results and rush hour 3 come out on thursday. live is full of ironies eh?

Harry Potter and The Waste of Money

2007-07-22T13:41:00.000+08:00

its like some sorta ancient voodoo spell that gripped the globe. masses of people lining up in places that one normally wouldn't go. disciples obsequious sentinels hanging on the final words of their master. souls so penitent that religion itself was secondary.
like the whole world had been Stupified.

so i read in the papers about how everybody was rushing to donate their money to JK Rowling. little girl gets trampled in a crowd of 400. wedding couple buy the book in their outfit. price wars and boycott schemes. fucking amazing i tell you.
its possibly one of the few times in the history of mankind where purpose and thirst is so great that it actually drives people forward, and all this hullabaloo is due to Mr. Harry Potter. no where in the world could you get people so devout and united for anything that would actually be of benefit.

credit where credit's due. the Harry Potter saga is an extraordinary exhaustion of Rowling's imagination. overall the world she created would probably never be emulated. but as the story wore on, the books got sappier, more mainstream, and if i remember correctly, when has there ever been swearwords in a children's book?

as i was discussing with my esteemed colleague and friend Abhay Bitch Tits yesterday, "JK Rowling has an imagination of a child"

on the actual book, it was diplomatic, to say the least. Harry Potter has never been about amazing writing technique, so i shouldn't be surprised about this one. without revealing anything about the book, it was horribly predictable. everyone was left happy, what had to happen happened, who needed to die died, and favoured characters' death help make one feel like they should enjoy the book. the ending was horribly cliche. the plot was barely relevant. other characters were subdued due to Harry's protagonist shining. worst of all, the boy cant seem to die. like Tom Cruise in War of the Worlds, the boy is fucking invincible. nuclear weapons couldn't kill Harry Potter.

there's not much else i can say without actually revealing the book openly, so i'll leave it to anyone who reads it to be their own judge. personally, im glad that i didnt buy it, and im quite upset at all the trees that had to die in order for Voldermort to be vanquished. i wouldn't wipe my arse with it.

the end of a saga that one follows usually leave one in a state of void. star wars, for example, or the 3rd LOTR movie. when i finished reading the book at three in the morning today, all i could think of was, "i wasted sleep, for THAT?"

Harry's gone, lets get on with our lives. or wait for the next movie to come out.

More 8 Ball!

2007-07-21T22:13:00.000+08:00

AbHaY says: (10:06:30 PM)
i hate my 8 ball

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:07:15 PM)
why?

AbHaY says: (10:07:39 PM)
it still thinks im a dumbass

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:08:30 PM)
hahahahahahahhaha

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:08:37 PM)
the fucking thing never lies

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:08:43 PM)
we all know that

AbHaY says: (10:09:07 PM)
it does la bastard

AbHaY says: (10:09:18 PM)
hahah

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:09:21 PM)
yeah, but then it tells you its lying

AbHaY says: (10:09:50 PM)
it sez it lied about me being a dumbass

AbHaY says: (10:09:55 PM)
i just asked

r a s h a a d loves His Rock & Roll Queen says: (10:10:09 PM)
hahaha you see, its lying about lying

By the Heat Of Your Light....

2007-07-18T22:05:00.000+08:00

Life is an 8 Ball

Life is an 8 Ball.
A whirling kaleidoscope of perpetual possibility.
A two-story corroded fire escape.
A sphere of constant query.
A liquid pool of probability.
A body of articulate labels.
A swirl of black and white.
A mass of conjecture.
A novelty toy.
A ball of poo.
A weapon.
A liar.

But ultimately,
After much try,
Tests,
Shakes,
Profanity,
And perspiration,

It gives us the answer we've been looking for.

*bows*

2007-07-01T23:45:00.000+08:00

JusLou says: (11:38:40 PM)
so what made you decide to stop the ciggies

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:02 PM)
health?

JusLou says: (11:39:27 PM)
you'll go back to it. i swear you will

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:23 PM)
plus the missus quit, and eventhough she never really said it, i knew she didnt like it

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:27 PM)
so i quit for her

JusLou says: (11:39:38 PM)
awwww

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:45 PM)
haha i've got a different sorta motivation right now

JusLou says: (11:39:50 PM)
anythin for the wife eh

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:50 PM)
so hopefully not

r a s h a a d." Autobots! ROLLOUT! " says: (11:39:54 PM)
yeah.. haha

JusLou says: (11:40:10 PM)
i have to meet this woman

2007-06-28T21:47:00.000+08:00

in my humble opinion, it was the most kick ass movie i've seen all year. and i've seen alot. like alot. i've seen:

Surf's Up
Hot Fuzz
Shrek 3
Next
Spiderman
Rocky
Blades of Glory
Wild Hogs
Return Of Taj
Pirates 3

and it keeps going... but Optimus Prime crushes them all with the sole of his robo-foot. like seriously, awesome movie. imma gonna go watch it again. Optimus, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, Mega"Fuck-de-Off"tron, Starscream, Brawl, Blackout, Barricade...
watching transformers was a very emotional experience for me. it's like watching reruns of the old Power Rangers or The Smurfs. i love those blue furballs.

i wish i had some toys.

anyways back to the movie, from start to finish its keeps you captivated. 2 hrs and 15 mins fly by like Starscream when he scanstheskyandflieslowdealingmassiveblowstotheautobotsinparticularwithhismissiles wicki-schhhhh KABOOOOOOOOM

the comedy is surprisingly present.haha. shia the beef does a decent job being the dork who gets the chick.
the animation is top lingerie drawer as well. awesome battle scenes, awesome transformation scenes, and the sounds!!!

my favourite transformer? the machiavellian, Starscream, but in the movie, Prime is like the big brother i never had...

transformers for me : 3000000/10

now, if my friends and i were transformers....

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

its a Black Hawk. hahaha

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

"KHE-KHU-KHO-KHU-KHI!"

hahahahahahahahahahahaha

"AUTOBOTS! ROLLOUT!"

2007-06-27T23:34:00.000+08:00

what's to say?

i've finished college. im on holiday. i hope to get into monash. i've been busy killing time. i've been basking in the glory of adeline. i've started to try make my lifestyle more healthy. i've taken a load of photos. but ill put up another time. ciao.

2007-06-15T03:05:00.000+08:00

i really should be asleep. im not a late sleeper, and its 3. im tired and cold, but fuck, i cant sleep. for whatever reasons. fuck i know why im still awake.

2007-06-11T22:05:00.000+08:00

ignore my last post. im now praying to accumalate 14 points.

hahahaha im such a bastard.

FUCK THE SYSTEM.

2007-06-04T16:16:00.000+08:00

amazing isn't it? i spent the greater part of my weekend prepping myself for my exam ( contract law, or as i like to call it, " Testicle-Void Law ", which is tomorrow..), with the genuine intention to make something of it. but today i feel utterly lackadaisical for the world that revolves around, and i couldn't give a nut or a cracker about my forthcoming papers.

you may say " il a non o mappa "(i think thats right) but i dont see the point of it anymore. i mean,

good grades = swanky university

but knowledge is universal, isn't it? regardless of its source, knowledge is knowledge.
why do we give a damn whether you graduate from Oxford or UM? since when has a STUPID LETTER FROM SOME OLD FART FOREIGNERS

DETERMINED ONE'S INTELLIGENCE? fuck the system, i say. we study endlessly all for what? self-gratitude? what a load of shit. does it feel good to hold your head up proud because you did well in your exams? does it feel good to show off your grade, and people being just like you, only wish they could achieve the same? what selfishness.plus its restraining your level of intelligence to a grade. worthy of an 'A', i'll say. pfffft. i hate having to hear people say, " i have to do well ". what for? for god's sake, its just A levels. wait, wait, i can hear the " determines your future " record playing.

Scenario : one student gets straight A's for their A levels. Another gets straight E's. Both of them enrol into an external law programme. the minimum for said programme is 2 E's. they end up sitting next to each other. what's the damn difference? hell if you believe in that "Determine Future" shit, make it count an university level. for as much as i'd love to bitch about that too, the sad reality is that to make money you gotta appear to seem smart, and in this caffeinated world we live in that only happens if you do well.

i remember my cousin telling me about how people get employed in Hong Kong. there's no difference as to what university you come from or what grades you get, the one of stronger character wins the dough. "* stands up* Why should you employ me? because i can FUCKING DO THE JOB!"

so i disagree with alot of things that govern the world. but i guess its my burden to bear alone. hell, i'm probably just sore. sigh.

i probably wouldnt have gotten all high and mighty if things weren't put into perspective for me. i swear, its painfully ironical.

pictures like these tell a story of how life should be. so i may be idealistic. but fuck you if i dont accept things for the way you are, realists.

2007-05-24T20:19:00.000+08:00

SAMUEL ETO'O SUPERB SKILLS SHOWCASING WHAT HE DOES BEST MUST WATCH!!!

seriously though.

2007-05-23T23:42:00.000+08:00

its like that really nice day outside, when there's a perfect breeze playing in your hair, leaves swirling around your ankles, your favourite song dancing with your neurons. the scent of the air impulsively redolent, where your tempted to shout out, " if i could name today, i'd name it Funday", as you carelessly walk on whistling that song in your head, completely oblivious like a frog to the negligent progression of mankind, and, unfortunately, the need for strays to defacetate as they please, unsuspectingly sinking into a imminent hole filled knee deep with dog doo. and then it starts raining and your mobile goes haywire. and your bag gets wet. and you catch a cold. and lightning strikes a tree nearby that sways precariously, only delaying its inevitable fate of falling straight onto your.......oh the vagaries of life.

hey! its exam month. but i bet you guessed that. it doesn't help that law, history and literature aren't the only exams im having.

2007-05-16T22:25:00.000+08:00

one paper down, nine to go.

exam stress, among other things. superstitious? most fucking definitly.

well, i thought about the army....

2007-04-29T00:07:00.000+08:00

probably the single worst obstacle to a beautiful day would be that whirlpool of ambition rising from the depths of bowel digestion in a last ditch attempt to dye everything greeny.

flamyflamywheeeburnyburnypeee

i have more moodswings than a pregnant cat has lives.

on a slighty almost homosexual note, check out this ridiculous website. thanks to pudge for pointing out just how ugly luke chadwick is.

2007-04-22T21:36:00.001+08:00

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (9:29:25 PM)
INDIAN POWEEERRR

007 says: (9:29:33 PM)
BOOYAKASHA!!!

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (9:30:57 PM)
we kick ass la

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (9:31:04 PM)
there's no two ways about it

007 says: (9:31:14 PM)
haha

007 says: (9:31:19 PM)
ure paki but

007 says: (9:31:25 PM)
tomeyto, tomahto

On the New Friendster.

2007-04-15T23:24:00.000+08:00

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (10:48:07 PM)
dude isnt the new friendster homo?

007 says: (10:48:13 PM)
YEAH

007 says: (10:48:20 PM)
fucking comments and testimonials
r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (10:48:24 PM)
ya man

007 says: (10:48:28 PM)
messed up shit man

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says: (10:48:53 PM)
fucking gaaaay

007 says: (10:49:10 PM)
yeaaaaahhhh...

2007-04-15T22:50:00.000+08:00

dont you love stumbling upon an old song?

so like, oh shit.

my exams are dogs sniffing the Mars Bar in my back pocket, raring for a bite of that good stuff, likely to leave various parts of me in a trail of blood and faeces on the ground...

most unsurprisingly, one of our books for literature, Antony(not AntHony) and Cleopatra is not in our syllabus, as well as Serious Money and The Glass Menagerie. its like pouring gasoline over hell and expecting the fire to go out. whatthefuck's up with that eh? at least it gives me an excuse to fail. hahaha. the inevitable's inevitable. the lit teacher (Or as i like to call her, Medusa, as she resembles, i have to take a photo one of these days) was spotted yesterday looking absolutely livid. i swear she looked like she was in the middle of some damned cultish summoning.

since we're on the subject of literature, here's a piece i wrote on literature class which i wrote during a boring literature class.

Sirens blaring, people screaming, alarm bells ringing as jets thunder overhead, everyone running for shelter, helter-skelter,in perfect symmetrical disorganisation, the sound of guns firing and cars honking, tyres squealing, dogs howling, wolves baying at the full moon dyed red by the fumes that dry our lungs, barely above a whisper, but we're screaming as if the skies have descended to crush the life out of us all. Not a roof in sight, merely tables and chairs knocked over, and 13 others half encapsulated, whether truly or no, by the incessant monotone of implied knowledge. Attendance is compulsory, everybody hearing but is anybody listening? The Voice drones on about our conformity, demanding excesses, from myself at least. And on I run, cerebral, constantly searching, even if in vain, for a simple, mattress of solace.

now go ahead and comment on the language, paying close attention to the imagery, style, tone, font size, type and colour, and homosexual connotations, and then write it all down like its some kinda elite thesis piece that should be revered for its hermeunetics, and then tell someone else allllll about it, cuz i dont give a rats ass. fucktard elitists. dieeeeeeeee

2007-04-06T23:07:00.000+08:00

IMSODOOMED....
TRIALEXAMSSHALLFORETELLIMPENDINGRESULTS....
ALEVELEXAMSSHALLONLYENDINUTTERFAILURERESULTING
INACHAINOFCATCLYSIMICEVENTSWHICHONLYENDWITHMYEVENTUALDEMISE...

2007-03-23T21:35:00.000+08:00

one of life's very valuable lessons.

EL DIABLO! says: (9:31:35 PM)
i cant believe this man

EL DIABLO! says: (9:31:56 PM)
on a normal week we'd be in ure house or in mid valley buying tickets to a 1.30 movie right now

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:32:12 PM)
yeah

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:32:18 PM)
instead we're studying man

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:32:21 PM)
STUDYING

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:32:27 PM)
what happened to the good ol days?

EL DIABLO! says: (9:32:31 PM)
I KNOW!!

EL DIABLO! says: (9:32:36 PM)
wat is the world coming to la

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:33:30 PM)
i dunno man...

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:33:39 PM)
maybe we're all just growing up

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:33:41 PM)
god forbid

EL DIABLO! says: (9:33:49 PM)
haha we're not la

EL DIABLO! says: (9:33:58 PM)
relax

EL DIABLO! says: (9:34:07 PM)
its just that our work isnt getting any easier

r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " New Number - 0176097951 says: (9:34:14 PM)
that is very true.

2007-03-22T22:21:00.000+08:00

flyleaf kick your ass inside out. like fucking seriously.
you aint ever gonna hear anyone scream like lacey mosley.
and a Sameer Samuel Battacharya on lead guitar? seriously?
i think he's the indian looking one.
asian power!

where's all the family love going?

fudges made me tea. but only cuz it was a serving for two. pah. but oh well. its pretty good. *slurrp*

ibuprofen is my new favourite drug.

lack of sleep. diazepam much?tee hee

2007-03-21T20:28:00.000+08:00

finally figured it out.
it didnt really help, really.
feeling worse.

as hani puts it, " feeling superbly uncool at the moment "

2007-03-19T21:51:00.000+08:00

no more maybes
babies got rabies
sitting on a ball
in the middle of the andes

hahahahahaha

apparently i look beyond tired today.hmmmm

haven't been well. tomoro i attempt the impossible. early.morning.jog.
lord almighty.

2007-03-18T21:08:00.000+08:00

Now Anyone Can Comment! haha

2007-03-16T22:09:00.000+08:00

spinning head!

i think mr ananth bought a tie that purposely looks like mine. he did go on about how much he liked it. just like how he's going on and on about my haircut, and just like how he wouldnt stop commenting on how nice i looked to day with the hare krishna motive. hahaha he wont leave me alone. thats why i pay attention in class. sometimes.
i kissed addie on the cheek and he told me to keep studying hard.
hahahahahahahaha

Im merely appeasing my sister when i do this. click.

Each player of this game starts out by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own, 6 weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose 5 people to be tagged and list their names. After you do that, leave them a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog!

1. I sleep with my blanket. all the time. even in the most ridiculous weather. if the sun were to descend and we were all to enflagrate in a mass murder inferno while i was asleep, i'd die wrapped in my blanket.

2. i brush my teeth after breakfast cuz i dont like the mint spoiling my meal. i dont know if thats normal, but i guess it may be considered weird.

3. i dont like cakes very much.

4. i prefer roti canai with sugar over everything else. its not really that weird, my friend's little sister does the same.

5. history is a very,very cool subject.

6. i like short girls. i dont find it weird, but my sis does. i like to call them petite thank you.

so yeah tag blah blah blah...

2007-03-11T22:07:00.000+08:00

haven't had the time or the arse to sit down and blog. plus im feeling mighty unwell today. oh how i hate being sick.

Arsenal V Wigan - Lehmann's moment of Brilliance

Jens is a fucking legend. I have never laughed more during a match. That unruly tousled head with mullet, that Germanic exterior and build, that world class goalkeeping combined with a deep and intense childishness and barely controlled maniac energy makes him a fucking legend.

JENS WE LOVE YOU

2007-03-04T18:23:00.000+08:00

i just listened to hysteria.

pissed very, am i.

The Day I Became Cinderella

2007-02-25T21:26:00.000+08:00

been a while.

Pictures From the Muse Concert.

That's right. its ongoing and im at home. cuz im a fucking idiot. i dont even wanna go into it.
i've had the worst fucking weekend and it doesn't help knowing everyone's rocking out where i should be more than others.

i sneezed and twisted my right shoulder. pathetic.
if arsenal lose against chelsea it'l sum up the weekend. of course God could fuck with my brain and turn it into a riot win.

Casually Dressed and Deep in Conversation

Scene 1, Act 4

Rashaad is cold, lonely and depressed, partaking in the manual labour of washing dishes, thoughts lost 10 km away.

Cue Enter Mom

Rashaad : I feel like Cinderella.

Mom laughs.

Rashaad : Its not funny.

Exuent.

2007-02-13T20:57:00.000+08:00

In fields where nothing grew but weeds,
I found a flower at my feet,
Bending there in my direction,
I wrapped a hand around its stem,
I pulled until the roots gave in,
Finding now what I’ve been missing,
But I know…

So I tell myself, I tell myself it’s wrong.
There’s a point we pass from which we can’t return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm.
All because of you

I haven’t slept in so long.
When I do I dream of drowning in the ocean,
Longing for the shore where I can lay my head down,
I’ll follow your voice,
All you have to do is shout it out.

Inside my hands these petals brown,
Dried up, falling to the ground
But it was already too late now.
I push my fingers through the earth,
Return this flower to the dirt,
So it can live.
I walk away now.
But I know…

Not a day goes by that I don’t feel it’s spurn.
There’s a point we pass from which we can’t return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm.
All because of you

I haven’t slept in so long,
When I do I dream of drowning in the ocean,
Longing for the shore where I can lay my head down,
I’ll follow your voice,
All you have to do is shout it out.

All because of you…
All because of you…

All because of you,
I haven’t slept in so long.
When I do I dream of drowning in the ocean,
Longing for the shore where I can lay my head down,
Inside these arms of yours.

All because of you,
I believe in angels.
Not the kind with wings,
No, not the kind with halos,
The kind that bring you home,
When home becomes a strange place.
I’ll follow your voice,
All you have to do is shout it out.

The Good Left Undone.

2007-02-12T23:02:00.001+08:00

How about we start quote of the week early?

p.DDee?] guess we just grew up...abit. says: (10:57:58 PM)
hehe thnkz rash..youre the best~ ^0^

Princess Pei Pei. kickass.

The Amazing Ability Of A Computer Programme Personifiying Tendencies Of Homosexuality

2007-02-11T21:29:00.000+08:00

in short, the title translates into either Firefox or blogger fucking up. since i cant decide, i pick both.

i was just finishing a nice post on my ma and bro's trip to Kenya complete with photos of Masai warriors jumping like they do in the movies when the shit hit the fan and the program crashed.

does one spell programme programme or program? i spelt it both ways cuz i dont know, but whatever. hah

i just noticed that people comment haha whoops

and yes, this would be rashaad from KDU, the one who has nothing ever to do and nothing ever to write.

fuck laaaaa im still annoyed.......

amazingly the books ( or book type ) that i haven't picked up all week are those concerning a levels. haha did i say amazing? i meant " as a norm " . i cant remember the last time i read a case in law up. and caring. i have read maybe four books, maybe five, including the bible hahaha.

" You know Rashaad, i thought religion was a far-cry from you. i thought you were all lepak, addie, makan..... i didnt expect you to be interested in religion. "

Hema with the quote of the week. kickass.

2007-02-07T22:13:00.000+08:00

fucking annoying. everytime i wanna blog the internet mucks itself up.

but then again, as of late its strange, cuz there's not been much to blog about.

so on the the most random thing i can think of. what if we were all reincarnated into the bird form based on how we live our previous lives? wouldn that be cool?

fuck law lah. fuck literature, fuck history. truth and addie,and im good. sounds good, is good, so yeah, ffuck all.

hasta la victoria siempre!

felt like that needed to be said.

im creeepd out. in a weird way.

2007-01-29T21:58:00.000+08:00

comparative religion kicks ass. its waaaaaay more interesting than dickens, sa addie so aptly put it...

there are alot of questions i have on chritianity but til i get difinitive answers i'll refrain from putting them up for the time being...

so i finally signed up for my driver's liscense. which reminds me, i gotta collect my IC.

i feel like getting back into some form of a more distinguishable shape. hah.

the other day i was going thru ajim's phone and i came across some very disturbing songs. keith sweat? come on man, thats just gay. " i listen to that song every night before i sleep " pfffft hahahaha.

so after many keith sweat jokes we resolved to exchange each other burned cds.

that should be fun.

2007-01-24T21:28:00.000+08:00

" Rashaad, can i borrow a cigarette? "

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha