Tuesday, September 16, 2014

The Malaysians' Fake World

For some reason, some people have problems believing I had a heart attack on Aug 29.

They responded to the news with suspicion and sometimes outright cynicism. As if I'm a conman out to con... something.

The thing is, I am not like them - I do not lie - so I would not even consider faking a heart attack and undergoing a totally unnecessary invasive heart procedure that installed a stent in one of my coronary arteries. I WISH I am faking all this, so I can smoke again and stuff lots of beef down my face-hole.

This whole thing convinced me that Malaysians and their friends all live in a fake, delusional world.

I mean, most of them don't have insurance, they don't plan for their death or even pay taxes. One idiot monkey even accosted me on Twitter demanding to know why I'm paying taxes. He is of the stupid demented belief that only rich people pay taxes.

This is the kind of stupidity in this country that led me to having a heart attack in the first place. You monkeys are soooooooo, sooooo fucking stupid.

I mean, the other day, I found out there was some fuss being made about a UN job offer.

It was made as if a UN job offer is only given to the best of the best. As if to qualify, you need to be the top of your game/industry.

NO.

Go to UNDP's website and look at the jobs being listed. UNDP - UN Development Programme or Project or whatever - recruits anyone between Directors with 15 years experience all the way to security guards, drivers and menial job clerks.

How do I know this? Well, in 2008, UN interviewed me. IAEA - the International Atomic Energy Association - interviewed me for a job. Why? For what? Must be for my extensive skills and knowledge in defusing nuclear bombs, or my experience with giant lizards with atomic breath.

NO.

I applied for a job to be their web editor. What was I supposed to do? Update their fucking website. In Bonn, Germany. That's why I started learning German for a month.

That job didn't require me to be the best web editor in the world. Not even the best in Malaysia. Not even the best whatever. It's just a job.

The UN is just one big stupid Government thingy. They don't just hire the best in the business. They hire what they need, including janitors, librarians (one of the jobs I applied) or web fucks (the one they interviewed me for).

The interview didn't go too well and I didn't get the job. Primarily because I only speak and write 2 languages fluently, and not three-four UN languages. They later sent me a letter saying I didn't get it but encouraged me to apply for it again.

But here's the thing. Malaysians are so in awe of the real world because they all live in fake, delusional worlds.

Just look at the 'urban liberals'. They think they live in the US or Japan or some mythical Karim Raslan alternate reality or some shit.

Look at our politicians. Najib has a total disconnect with his power base - the rural folk, the swamp people, the village mobs. He never had to shop for anything at the wet market.

Najib's advisors are all privileged sons and daughters of rich people who cannot connect with the real people. Just because your Bangsar/TTDI/Damansara stupid friends don't like something, does NOT mean the whole country feels the same.

Fuck you and all your thieving parents. Your parents are thieves! And your grandparents too! Suck my dick!

And when the BN politicians do come down and listen to the real people, they get intercepted by stupid NGOs who dress up in paramilitary gear. Another case of dementia.

Don't get me started with the Opposition.

In my opinion, DAP are all racist fucks promoting a racist agenda so they could steal all the money that's left.  PKR are delusional double-standard unprincipled pretend-victim wannabe-democrats who all kiss and suck Anwar Ibrahim's ass. PAIS-M, meanwhile, have raped the religion of Islam for their own personal benefits.

To me, ALL politicians are liars. Whenever I meet a politician, they always lie to my face. They are the ones who created a delusional Malaysia who believe in conspiracy theories and have trouble believing that I had a legit heart attack on Aug 29.

Seriously, YOU ARE ALL STUPID AND I WISH , ON THIS MALAYSIA DAY, THAT YOU ALL DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Resepi Orang Nak Mampus: Salad Campur

Lepas kena sakit jantung yang menyebabkan aku hampir nak mampus, aku dah berusaha menukar pemakanan aku. Antara benda yang aku buat ialah:

A. Dapatkan tidur yang cukup dan konsisten
- ini penting untuk memastikan aku dapat cukup serotonin dan tak mampus sebab tekanan.

B. Berenti isap rokok
- ini bukan pilihan lagi dah.

C. Reformasi pemakanan dengan:

1. Makan makanan serat tinggi.
2. Minimumkan minyak dan kolesterol
3. Minimumkan garam dalam makanan
4. Tukar garam kepada Garam Perancis.
5. Merombak penyediaan makanan
6. Memilih bahan-bahan dengan teliti
7. Mengawal jumlah makanan yang diambil
8. Makan di meja makan dan bukan makan sambil bekerja.


Hari ni aku nak cakap pasal buat salad. Ramai orang Melayu pemalas, bak kata Dr M, dan selebihnya, bodoh, bak kata aku. Jadi aku kongsi cemana nak buat salad.

Bahan-bahannya:

1. Butterhead lettuce



- Ini ialah pasak bumi untuk salad ini. Aku pakai satu kepala salad terus dan memang terlampau banyak dan terlalu kenyang bila dicampur dengan bahan-bahan lain.

2. Red and green coral lettuce/salad thing



- Okay je. Tak payah pakai banyak sangat. Saja nak tambah texture.

3. Capsicum



- Kepelbagaian masa makan.

4. Cherry tomatoes



- Tambah warna pada salad, penuh vitamin C, blablabla. Rasa best gak.

5. Wild rocket - TIDAK DIREKOMEN



- Rasa macam kesing (serangga busuk)

6. Epal hijau



- Epal merah pun okay. Kalau aku malas, aku letak pear.

7. Oren.



- Oren ni belah dua. Satu belah, perah. Sebelah lagi, kerat kecik-kecik.

Dressing: Bragg's Apple Cider Vinegar dan jus oren segar (diperah sendiri).


- Masalah orang Melayu makan salad ialah dressing. Ramai melantak mayonais atau thousand island. Ini menggagalkan salad sebagai hidangan sihat, dan menjadikannya hidangan bodoh terencat yang mengakibatkan serangan sakit jantung, angin ahmar dan mati pucuk.

Dressing yang tinggi kadar lemak, garam dan benda-benda bodoh lain mengakibatkan kesan pemakanan sama sahaja dengan makan fast food.

Kalau nak makan salad dengan mayonais, atau makan apa-apa saja benda dalam dunia ni dengan mayonais, silalah makan kulit ayam goreng KFC, Big Mac dan pizza keju lebih. Juga, buka penutup bekas garam, dan tuang dalam mulut.

Cara-cara memasak:

1. Basuh semua bahan. Buah semua kena potong.

2. Masukkan dalam mangkuk

3. Curah dua-tiga sudu Bragg's apple cider vinegar

4. Gaul.

5. Makan.

Anggaran penyediaan dan gaul = kurang 5 minit.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Terung Mahawangsa: Resepi Orang Nak Mampus

Hai adik-adik! Abang Terung kena sakit jantung dua minggu lepas dan selepas pembedahan bionik, sekarang hanya boleh makan makanan serta hidangan sihat sahaja. Akibatnya, berat abang Terung sudah turun sebanyak 10kg dalam masa kurang dua minggu. TANPA SENAMAN BERAT.

Di sini, abang Terung ingin berkongsi resepi masakan dan tips pemakanan yang dipanggil 'Resepi Orang Nak Mampus', sebab memang dua minggu lepas abang rasa cam nak mampus dah.

1. Breakfast/Sarapan/Asagohang


- Mulakan dengan psyllium husk. Psyllium husk - atau dedak istimewa - boleh menurunkan kolesterol darah dan menyebabkan berak yang hebat.
- Campur dua sudu psyllium husk dengan satu sudu madu Australia dan dua sudu apple cider vinegar. Tambah air. Minum.

- Makan ubat.

- Makan oats. Kalau abang Terung kena ajar ko cemana nak makan oats, baik ko pergi masukkan diri sendiri dalam lubang puki mak ko sebab ko bodoh.

2. Lunch/Merarau/Makan tengahari

- Jangan percaya semua penipuan bahawa memasak itu susah dan memerlukan masa yang lama. Abang Terung memasak dua-empat hidangan dalam masa kurang 45 minit. Dan semuanya hidangan sihat!


A. Sayur Masak Air

- tumis bawang putih dengan minyak canola/bunga matahari/jagung. Gunakan minyak sikit dan jangan pakai minyak kelapa atau kelapasawit.
- Lepas naik bau bawang, masukkan air
- masukkan satu sudu teh garam. Pemilihan garam amat penting. Garam yang abang Terung gunakan ialah garam Perancis.

Garam Perancis


Garam ini dituai dengan mengumpul semua anak dara di negara Perancis - satu tugas yang hampir mustahil. Kemudian, semua anak dara yang ditangkap tadi dipukul dengan cemeti agar mereka menangis. Air mata anak dara perancis ini kemudian dikumpul dalam tujuh tempayan tradisional.
Selepas dikeringkan dengan cahaya matahari Perancis, maka terciptalah Garam Perancis.
- masukkan sayur.
- renih sampai masak.

B. Ayam Masak Air

- tumis bawang merah/kuning besar dan halia
- Lepas naik bau bawang, masukkan air.
- masukkan satu sudu teh garam. Ya, Garam Perancis.
- Masukkan ketulan dada ayam tanpa kuolit mahupun lemak.
- renih sampai masak

C. Ayam Masak Kari

- tumis bawang merah/kuning besar dan halia
- Lepas naik bau bawang, masukkan rempah kari tiga sudu teh.
- Masukkan air.
- masukkan satu sudu teh garam. Ya, Garam Perancis.
- Masukkan ketulan dada ayam tanpa kulit mahupun lemak.
- Masukkan tomato.
- renih sampai masak


D. Ayam Masak Kurma

- tumis bawang merah/kuning besar dan halia
- Lepas naik bau bawang, masukkan rempah kurma tiga sudu teh.
- Masukkan air.
- masukkan satu sudu teh garam. Ya, Garam Perancis.
- Masukkan ketulan dada ayam tanpa kulit mahupun lemak.
- Masukkan tomato.
- renih sampai masak


E. Daging Masak Kari

- tumis bawang merah/kuning besar dan halia
- Lepas naik bau bawang, masukkan rempah kari tiga sudu teh.
- Masukkan air.
- masukkan satu sudu teh garam. Ya, Garam Perancis.
- Masukkan daging tanpa lemak.
- Masukkan tomato.
- renih sampai masak

F. Sambal Belacan Salsa

- Belacan ialah bahan makanan yang AMAT tidak sihat. Tetapi, seperti seorang kekasih yang suka menikam dada ini dengan tombak berkarat, abang Terung kadang-kadang rindukan rasa dan bau belacan (pada makanan. Kalau pada orang, memang akan dipukul tanpa belas kasihan).

- Ambil secubit sahaja belacan. Boleh kata suku sudu teh atau kurang dari itu.
- Ambil empat ulas lada. Tumbuk dalam lesung bersama belacan yang amat sedikit tadi.
- Ambil tujuh-sembilan biji tomato ceri dan masukkan ke dalam lesung satu demi satu.
- Tumbuk sampai lumat.
- Apa yang terhasil ialah sambal belacan yang tak cukup belacan dan tak cukup pedas, juga terlebih tomato.
- Kiranya antara sambal belacan, ini hanyalah tahap blowjob sahaja.

3. Dinner/Makan Malam/Mentekedarah

- Untuk dinner, makan lauk dan nasi lebihan makan tengahari tadi.
- Lepas tu makan psyllium husk.
- Pastu tido.

Setakat itu saja nukilan abang kali ini. Abang masih penat sebab ari tu hampir nak mati. Kalau abang Terung dapat duit, nanti abang akan beli grill dan kita akan tengok apa resepi untuk makanan panggang bagi mereka yang nak mampus dah ataupun, bagaimana menikmati pasta yang betul-betul sihat,

Sampai jumpa lagi (kalau tak mati lagi)

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Quit Playing Games With My Heart: Final Vent. Survive!

While at UMMC, I met exactly ONE racist fucktard - another patient.

This dude kept on telling me I had it cheaper.

"You had it cheaper," he said.

"Okay," I said, under the influence of mind-altering drugs. "I got charged 10K deposit for the angiogram. How much of a deposit did they charge you?"

"They charged me RM10K as well," said the dude.

"So we pay the same, then?" I asked.

"No! I got a RM5,000 assistance from Welfare," said the guy.

"Okayyyy. And thennn?"

"You pay cheaper! You Malay!"

Well, fuck you. I never initiated any conversation with the victim-wannabe racist idiot after that.

UM Medical Center is set up to be affordable for most people. My procedure required a deposit because apparently some people had it and then ran away without paying, as the gossip goes.

The RM10,000 deposit is not the final amount for the procedure. The angiogram is around 2K, and each angioplasty and stent has a separate cost. In total, I paid around 7K for the procedure. Which means they gave 3K back.

Hospitalisation is very affordable, and each daily test they did for liver function, blood glucose, BP (two-three times a day), are all quite okay.

I was staying first at the CCU and later at a ward. With four meals a day and round the clock supervision, it was extremely value for money. I mean, the nurses would give you sponge baths or even cleaned up your shit if need be. And I heard UMMC is still not the cheapest.

In terms of quality of service, professionalism, empathy and attitude, I rate UMMC cardiology ward and all the other departments I dealt with so far to have exceeded my expectations.

I fully expected a cheap but rude service, but these people - the doctors, nurses and staff - were very patient, accommodating and helpful. I can't thank them enough. Especially knowing civil servant pay scales.

The doctors were not condescending, which was a delight. They explained to me everything necessary and answered all my questions, despite - in the case of one consultant - having hundreds of beds and cases to go to. The dude has like, 5 minutes or less per bed and he was never rude, always patient and I find his attitude exemplary.

This goes to all doctors I encountered at UMMC. Not a single one was an idiot, and for that my compliments to their parents.

Nurses were very capable, very professional, experienced, fast, compassionate, even when I complained of something frivolous. Having seen my neighbour suffer from the hiccups (related to his heart condition) for four days, I pressed the red button when after a meal, I began to suffer from the hiccups.

They came. Ooooh.

In the first two days, every time I needed to pee, I pressed the red button and the nurses would come with a bed pan or a chamber pot, as I was not supposed to stand up or move about that much.

I also witnessed the nurses trying to flush the stomach of one of my neighbours before a colonoscopy. This task required feeding an old man litres of water with a substance to clear the intestines, as well as waiting for the old dude to go number two in his adult diaper.

And then changing them. And then repeat until the guy's colon is clean enough for a colonoscopy.

A job where every day you deal with cleaning up piss and shit and making sure you're clean again to hand over medication. I believe, like the policemen for law enforcement and teachers for our educational system, our nurses are the backbone of our healthcare.

The only drawback with UMMC is because it attracts a lot of people. Most of them poor or not rich.

I was lucky because I had my sister who immediately took over the tasks involved with insurance documentation like obtaining medical reports, settling the bills, etc, as well as lining up at the pharmacy.

There are always hundreds of people queuing up, and if I was alone, I don't know how long it would have taken me to even get discharged. This is not UMMC's fault and seeing how they work, I believe they are doing the best they can with the amount of people they have.

It's just... people get sick. Lots of people do. And a lot of them are not millionaires or children of thieves who stole all the money from this country and are now crying out for social justice by pretending to be a liberal while beating up their wives and girlfriends.

If I had the money, I would go to a private hospital just because it's faster and to ensure UMMC and other similar establishments can cater to people who are really in need at the time, such as myself right now. Right now I'm broke cause some people did not pay me money.

People who have the money should go to private hospitals. Leave UMMC and other establishments for the poor or the broke. If your net worth is over a million - fuck you.

Anyway, I just want to say thank you to the doctors, the nurses and the staff at UMMC. This episode was made survivable and bearable mostly through the good work of the people at UMMC.

Thank you. For serious.


Quit Playing Games With My Heart Part 5

Previously, on Amir Hafizi: I was wheeled in for an angiogram after suffering from a heart attack five days before that.

So there I was, lying on yet another bed as a nurse washed my forearm with massive amounts of alcohol. The medical team was going through the radial vessel.

Then there was an injection of anesthetics on my right hand. There was a choice between femoral or radial and I was glad it was radial.



So anyway, I have an version to bloodloss. I get all lightheaded and queasy at the sight of anyone losing blood. That's why I can't be a doctor. And because I do not want that kind of responsibility on my ass. And I'm too lazy.

So anyway, the doc pushed the catherer through my right hand, up my left arm, across the chest all the way into my heart. I only felt a cold stuffing feeling up my wrist, but little else.

After around 20 minutes of pushing the catherer and injecting a dye, they recorded the blood flow in my heart with pictures and videos that look like these:


Yes. X-rays have videos now.

As the doctors convene either for a short meeting so as to what to do with my heart, I watched the monitors with my bloodflow and stuff. 

Oh yes, I was fully conscious the whole time and when there were live footage of the flow in my heart, I watched all of it.

The doctor came back and told me the news. It was bad. I had two blockages - one 90% and the other 50%.

Our heart has three main arteries carrying oxygenated blood from the heart back to the heart - the right coronary artery, the left anterior descending artery and the left coronary artery. A block of 60-70% could result in a heart attack.

One of mine was 90% blocked. Another was 50%, possibly the one that caused all this problem five days prior, due to residual plaque.

So, the doctor explained to me what he was going to do and why. Also, why I need to come back a month later for MRI on the 50% blocked artery. I remember everything, but I'm not going to share this with you idiots. I was primarily worried at the time whether I would be able to have an erection because all this has shrunken my balls and dick to a very small size.

Anyway, they took care of the 90% blocked artery via a balloon (angioplasty) and then installed a stent. Blablabla.

Then they slapped me with the coolest bandage ever - it's a transparent hard plastic bandage/bracelet that had an air pump to maintain pressure on my right hand. It even had a small pump to inflate or deflate the thing pressing on the wound from the angiogram.

It looked so high tech. I can't find the picture online, but trust me, it's really cool.

And that was that. I was wheeled out and sent back to my ward. Stayed there another day, for monitoring and I was discharged the next day. The discharge process took almost half a day and could have been the entire day if I did not have someone to do it for me.

But anyway, I am uneventfully still alive and recovering nicely from the ordeal. I will return to UMMC for the MRI in order to determine how much tissue damage my heart has sustained and if there are any necessary follow-up procedures. I'll also be back for cardiac rehab, which is like, once a month or something.

I am also sentenced to blood thinners for the rest of my life. As well as a few other meds. Right now, I am on six different meds.

Anyway, aftermath and my thoughts on UMMC, the Malaysian medical system and other thoughts will be recorded in the next and final instalment of this heart attack series.

Cheers.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Quit Playing Games With My Heart Part 4

NOTE: I AM WRITING THIS SERIES OF ARTICLES ABOUT MY HEART ATTACK SO PEOPLE WON'T ASK THE SAME BLOODY FUCKING QUESTIONS. UNFORTUNATELY, TO THIS DAY, I STILL GET IDIOTS AND RETARDS ASKING ME STUFF I HAVE ALREADY STATED HERE.

BEFORE TALKING TO ME, READ THESE ARTICLES FIRST OR FOREVER FUCK YOUR OWN MOTHER.

NEXT TIME YOU WANT TO ASK ME A QUESTION ABOUT MY HEART ATTACK AND WHETHER I SAW GOD/THE DEVIL/EYWA OR FIND OUT WHETHER I HAVE FOUND RENEWED FAITH IN ANY OF YOUR STUPID RELIGIONS, DO YOURSELF A FAVOUR AND FUCKING KILL YOURSELF RIGHT NOW. HEAVEN AWAITS.

Previously, on Amir Hafizi: After surviving a massive heart attack, Amir Hafizi was warded, monitored and scheduled for an angiogram on the fifth day.

An angiogram is when well, wikipedia lists it here as angiography. Read the whole shit there. Basically they were going to insert a small tube through my arm, into my heart and pump it with dye to show blood flow and if there are any blockages as seen through X-Rays.

After obtaining the diagnosis, the doctor would then decide to do whatever doctors believe need be done. The obvious options would be an angioplasty, stenting, or a coronary bypass. Also available on the menu are euthanasia via morphine or a double-tap shotgun to the head should I turn into a zombie.

Anyway, the procedure and walkthrough were explained to me on the first night or second day. I forgot. I was hoping for either 20-30% blockages only, not requiring any further procedures and just treatment by medication.

I was also informed that the angiogram can be done either through the radial or femoral arteries. I prefer radial as the procedure through the femoral artery requires mandatory bed-rest and no movement for the next 12 hours after the procedure. I have fought for so long to ensure I don't poop on the bed, and I do not want to lose on this final stretch.

They also did what was told to me as an 'echo test' which I believe was an echocardiogram. Seems similar. That one tested my heart for areas not functioning properly.

So far, I was feeling very good, despite the heart attack on the 29th. In fact, I suspected that maybe it was just a fluke occurrence involving magnets and the Freemasons. Maybe it was heartburn, after all?

What I was trying to avoid was the annoying Malaysian belief that if something bad happened to you, it is because you are being punished by a stupid and petty God these idiots pray to.

In fact, I was worried if the PKR idiots thought my cardiac arrest was due to me pointing out how they got everything wrong.

Blablabla, blablabla, I eventually found myself, on the fifth day at the hospital, in a room waiting for my turn at the angiogram. This was it. This would determine a lot of stuff.

As I sat there, my feet turning cold from the anticipation and the air-conditioning, I asked myself these questions that ends in a proposition:

1. Do I have anything or anyone to live for?

Nope

2. Do I have anything or anyone to die for?

Nope.

Then the only thing left to pray for would be a swift procedure with minimal drama.

And then they wheeled me in.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Quit Playing Games With My Heart Part 3

Previously, on Amir Hafizi: I had suffered a heart attack - a massive cardiac arrest - and was being admitted to the Critical Care Unit after a successful emergency treatment involving thrombolytic agents and some painkillers.

Dr S even said, "You look good for someone who just had a heart attack."

And I was like doing the paso doble:

Paso Doble: Where the man is the matador and the woman is the matador's cape. Or possibly his opponent the double minotaur
But she didn't notice of course, because I just had a massive attack. I was soon wheeled to the CCU and put in a solo room with these graphs and charts hooked up to my chest. Every 15 minutes, the machine would take my blood pressure - it was 170++ over 120++, which is extremely high for humans.

My heart rate was also a bit crazy, as usual, after a heart attack. It was around 130 bpm or something?

My oxygen levels in the blood were also low, at 90-92% even with assisted O2 breathing thingy.

The numbers were all behind me, so I got a small mirror so I could monitor my numbers properly. I began doing breathing exercises and managed to push the breathing rate down and oxygen percentage up. Meditation or possibly just fatigue from a recovering heart plus meds eventually pushed my BP down to below 100 over 60.

I was not supposed to stand up or walk about the place. There was a 'fall risk' sticker on my bed, meaning I am at a risk to fall if I were to stand up. Peeing and shitting was supposed to be done on the bed. For peeing, there are various designs of chamberpots and for pooping - I don't really know, because as soon as I found out I was expected to poop on the bed, I regulated my meals and water intake so as to ensure I can go for three to five days without pooping, until they allow me access to a toilet.

Making sure I don't poop in a 72-hour period was easy because:

1. I lost appetite after the heart attack.
2. Hospital food suck most of the time.

The peculiar thing about non-private hospital food (hospital Gomen/semi-Gomen), is that they give you an illusion of choice.

Every day, a nurse or a dude or whoever will come and ask you whether you want "ikan tomato or ayam tandoori." for lunch, or would you prefer "kuay teow ladna" for breakfast or bread. I was shocked when, available on the menu were "nasi minyak and ayam kurma."

First of all, the hospital's definitions of ayam tandoori or ayam kurma are extremely loose. Ayam tandoori, ayam kurma, chicken with ginger sauce, chicken stew, chicken soup, chicken ala orange, chicken cordon bleu are all boiled chicken with some variations in herbs used. This is how it should be. Hospital food should not be tasty.

According to hospital food science, both of these chicken dishes are exactly the same. They are called 'chicken tandoori'

The curry chicken was my favourite chicken dish, as it really had curry powder in it, but sans the evil santan or milk. Best dish? Tempeh. Flavourful, healthy and never bland. If you get warded in PPUM/UMMC, try the tempeh. Fried bee hoon (baked, really) also not bad.

The first two days, I could only manage a few mouthfuls and stabs at the chicken before giving up. They always give everyone chicken thigh. I hate chicken thigh. I hate the chicken butt, the thigh and finally the drumstick. Fuck the entire lower half of the chicken.

They always give us double veggies. Tasteless, because the salt, I discovered later on, was supplied separately. I've been having the meals without salt for a few days without noticing.

Anyway, I was under close observation for two days before I was transferred to a normal ward. Somebody else needed the monitoring instruments more than I do, and I was happy at the confidence the hospital had in me.

In fact, on the first day itself, Dr D - my primary physician explained to me the entire walkthrough of this game. I was to have an angiogram, that would determine follow-up treatments and so on. I just needed to survive until Wednesday.

And so began my countdown to have the angiogram, which will be the subject of our next instalment. Now, I need to lie down and take a nap while I peruse these new naked photos of Jennifer Lawrence - a woman who possibly one day will also have a heart attack.


Thursday, September 4, 2014

Quit Playing Games With My Heart Part 2

When we last leave me - your hero - I was being wheeled into the emergency room with chest pains that are equivalent to a sledge hammer to the heart. Other symptoms include numbness to the left shoulder and arm.

"Are you sweating, sir?" asked one of the people wheeling me in.

"Ah, my wet hair? I'm sorry, but I took a last-minute shower before coming here, so there is no way to determine whether I am perspiring or not. I did puke from the pain, though."

The ER folks are always up for some jibber-jabber, but they were handling a crisis here, so they got their ECG thing out. That's ElectroCardioGram to you idiots and not Ecto-Containment Graph or whatever.

They clamped my feet and had these weird suction cups on my chest. I felt like I was being tested by some Dharma Initiative instrument.

Artist dramatization of an ECG reading



Actual ECG reading in progress

So the ECG confirmed it - I was having a heart attack. An extensive one. Oh my.

A cardiologist - Dr S - was summoned to the scene, and she was a vision of beauty. She looked like Nurul Izzah, but prettier and, well, a doctor and not a professional liar.

These are feelings of love and infatuation that only a Japanese love song can express:


I was immediately smitten and what a nice story to tell people if I met my girlfriend - a DOCTOR, honey - at the emergency room, experiencing huge amounts of pain, fighting for my life.

Oh, which reminds me.

I was at the emergency room, experiencing huge amounts of pain, fighting for my life.

Dr S, the cardiologist, decided on a treatment of thrombolytic agent to be administered with ISO - umm, let's just be fair to the idiots out there who can't even Google. They stuck some stuff into me that would dissolve the blockages in the arteries as well as some things to soften the walls of the blood vessels and of course - my favourite medical thing: mighty morphine pain-killers.

I was really insecure about the morphine because I was duped before and injected with a placebo by a doctor who thought he was being cute. I never went to his multi-million dollar scam center ever again.

But the injections were pure, legit morphine. And soon, I was quite high and the pain in my chest became a bit more manageable, with sudden bursts of unbearable torment now and then.

After the thrombolytic agent were finished (they gave me two rather large syringes of the stuff), the pain was gone and I felt ready to continue my life of pornography and literary criticism. Unfortunately, I was to be held back for observation at the Critical care Unit. Because the risk of getting another cardiac arrest is high after the first 72 hours.

I didn't manage to thank everyone at the ER. There was the nameless Gurney Boy, Dr Sg who asked me for my next of kin's number, Dr A who injected the morphine, the spectacular ER nurse F who noticed backflow due to my high BP and did some tubing magic.

I am also not sure, it might be just a painful hallucination, but there was perhaps an incessant, short, effeminate person who asked me to rate my pain from 1-10 without specifying 10 being the worst pain imaginable or the worst pain I've ever experienced.

"So which is it?" I asked. "Cause I can imagine other pains being more intense, but I have never experienced something as bad as this."

"Yes" was the answer from the strange man.

"Nine," was my final word on that to the strange creature.

And of course. Dr S. Had we met under different circumstances - oh what could have been. I'm still up for any non-caffeinated drinks, but I'm sure she's busy saving lives everywhere.

Anyway, I soon found myself at the CCU around 7pm++.

To be continued...

Quit Playing Games With My Heart Part 1

Hello. I just got back from the hospital. Got discharged, really. Because on Aug 29, I had a massive  heart attack.



I'm still a bit tired from the ordeal, but I'll start the documentation process on what happened and what I experienced.

It was a rather normal Friday afternoon. I went to Berjaya Restaurant and had my usual daging dendeng, fried lungs and double veggies. I smoked almost 10 sticks as I finished three drinks. All the while, making fun of PKR poseurs with one hand.

Then I went home.

I was sitting on this very chair when suddenly it felt like Triple H burst into my room, produced a sledge hammer, handed it over to Brock Lesnar who then immediately started hitting my chest with it, in slow motion.

All the while both Triple H and Brock Lesnar singing that annoying 1996 Backstreet Boy hit Quit Playing Games (With My Heart), while my heart was really in this intense, gripping pain.




In my head, there were only three possibilities:

1. Heart burn - most plausible
2. Heart attack - at 34? I don't think so.
3. Some weird form of food poisoning

I was so confused and so in pain - and Brock Lesnar and Triple H were still singing that song - that I decided to take a shower.

I reasoned that if I were to burst through the emergency room doors and dramatically claim to have a heart attack when in reality, I was suffering from heartburn, at least I'd smell nice. Up to that point, around 4pm, I did not have a shower yet. While taking the shower, I puked three times from the pain.

So, with a semi-wet body, in my best t-shirt and shorts, I decided to go to the ground floor of my apartment and fling myself on to the nearest neighbour who would give a damn.

That man happened to be Richard Gardner, of Gardner and Wife fame. He immediately invited me to his car and also offered me the use of his mobile.

I dialled my sister's phone number and said,

"I am in a car driven by Richard Gardner of Gardner and Wife. This is his phone I'm using. I believe I have heartburn and I am on my way to the hospital. "

I apologised profusely to Richard for being in such a state and he also apologised for the state of the traffic on a Friday evening, which to be fair was none of his fault. I began to feel a numbing in my left shoulder and arm, which is indicative of a cardiac arrest.

The good man dropped me off at the emergency entrance of Universiti Malaya Medical Center. Less than 10 seconds later, I was on a gurney, wheeled in with a rotating cast of characters asking me the same questions over and over again..

Man, I'm tired. I'll continue later tonight. But I'll spoil the ending - I'm still alive, and PKR can suck it.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Menyamar DrM: ISIS dan Tanggungjawab Menegur

1. Baru-baru ni, saya terbaca di media sosial ramai anak-anak muda Melayu Islam yang amat marah bila orang bukan Islam samakan ISIS dengan mereka.

2. ISIS sekarang dilaporkan telah melakukan banyak keganasan, pembunuhan, kezaliman dan mengambil pendirian keras perihal menubuhkan empayar atau negara Islam yang besar. Sememangnya boleh faham keresahan sesiapa juga yang akan disamakan dengan mereka.

3. Malangnya, ISIS memang dianggotai orang Islam, dengan agenda Islam. Jadi, kita tidak boleh melatah dan marah sekiranya komuniti global menyamakan semua orang Islam di bawah label atau panji yang sama.

4. Kita juga tidak seharusnya berasa terkejut sekiranya media asing yang dibiayai kuasa asing - mahupun orang bukan Islam di negara kita sendiri - terus menggunakan peluang ini untuk memburuk-burukkan orang Islam seluruh dunia. Mesej penting media asing mestilah menggambarkan semua penganut Islam adalah puak pelampau yang suka bunuh orang.

5. Ada juga antara orang Islam di negara ini yang suka bila ada saja kekalutan yang dicetuskan oleh orang Islam sama ada di dalam mahupun di luar negara. Mereka suka perkara ini terjadi supaya mereka boleh melaungkan agenda keluar Islam - sebuah agama yang tidak menjadi relevan kepada mereka lagi. Mereka 'cool' dan popular. Mereka 'liberal'. Dan mereka senang dengan pujian dan tepuk atas kepala rakan bukan Islam yang sukakan Melayu sebegini.

6. Jadi, apa jawapan kita, sebagai orang Islam? Kita ada beberapa pilihan. Kita boleh cakap kita tak sama dengan ISIS, tapi saya kira penjelasan ini lemah dan tidak dapat diterima komuniti antarabangsa mahupun tempatan.

7. Pada asasnya, memang ISIS dianggotai orang Islam. Malah ada laporan mengatakan orang Malaysia sendiri - Melayu dan Islam - telah menyertai gerakan ini.

8. Sekiranya kita cakap kita tidak sama dengan ISIS, media dan kuasa bukan Islam hanya perlu menunjukkan bukti penglibatan orang Islam dan orang Malaysia sebagai alasan untuk melabel semua orang Islam sebagai pengganas.

9. Saya fikir, sudah terlalu lama kita membiarkan imej dan kehadiran Islam di persada tempatan dan antarabangsa diterajui oleh puak pelampau. Mereka ini senang saja melakukan semua perkara demi kepentingan diri sendiri dan berlindung di sebalik topeng agama.

10. Menjadi tanggungjawab kita - malah, fardu kifayah - untuk menjernihkan imej Islam supaya menjurus ke arah falsafah asal agama yang suci, murni, terbuka dan progresif. Adakah Nabi dulu pergi bunuh orang sewenang-wenangnya demi kepentingan politik?

11. Medan tempur Islam sekarang bukan di padang pasir, tetapi di medan media. Perang imej telah lama dilancarkan dan musuh Islam sebenarnya sudah lama bertapak dalam disiplin ini.

12. Pemimpin Islam pula pada hari ini terlampau sibuk mengkafirkan orang dalam pertandingan menunjuk-nunjuk siapa yang lebih alim daripada yang lain. Mereka mengabaikan penjagaan kelakuan dan imej Islam daripada diserang oleh pihak bukan Islam yang berniat jahat. Bila orang tanya, tak boleh jawab.

13. Dalam kes ISIS, pemimpin Islam seharusnya berdiri teguh dengan pendirian tetap menentang keganasan. Nak buat negara Islam, buatlah. Tapi ikutlah prosedur yang betul di negara itu. Sekiranya majoriti penduduk di sesuatu tempat mahukan negara Islam, maka bentuklah negara Islam seperti yang mereka mahu.

14. Entahlah. Saya juga risau sekiranya saya bercakap pasal agama, nanti ada pihak akan memandang serong, sama ada sengaja atau tidak. Saya bukanlah ulama. Saya tak hafal Al Quran. Saya tak pakai kopiah. Mungkin, kalau saya pakai kopiah dan hafal 2-3 surah, orang akan dengar cakap saya.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Malaysian Film Industry Reboot

Been caught up with the whole Selangor MB issue - the intensity, the drama, the twists and turns, the dick jokes - that I just need to write about something else for a moment. That thing would be the proposed Malaysian Film Industry Reboot.

I'm writing it in English so I don't get sued. If I were to write it in Bahasa Malaysia or Chinese, it could be taken as propaganda aimed at the majority of the current Malaysian film audiences. At least by major Malaysian studios. Young people who understand English and actually want to read a pseudo-intellectual article - people who possess the lexicon and education to understand it - are all pretentious snobby bastards who don't watch local films anyway. They all want intellectual films like Transformers and Transformers 4: Age of Extinction.

So no one can prove loss of income in the court of law.

First, the problems:

1. The "industry" (note the quotation marks)

The Malaysian film industry sucks. The first thing is the fact that production houses and TV stations take all the money. In some other film industries - industries that can call themselves industries - almost everyone involved in the creative process gets a cut of the gross (an early Animaniacs cartoon taught me that nett doesn't exist and that I should always go for gross).

I don't know about the rest, but the Screenwriters Guild of America guarantees around 2.5% of gross across the board. This means if Tanda Putera V: Khalid Strikes Back makes RM100 million at the box office, the writers of the script/screenplay get RM2.5 million.

Which brings us to another thing. Scriptwriters don't usually get credit as screenwriters, no matter if they did any screenwriting or not. This is because directors take all the credit for screenwriting. Why? A few reasons.

First, most directors treat the script as a mere suggestion. When it comes to shooting, they sometimes just throw the script away for practicality or just for the fucks. Our pre-production process is in shambles and matters little for the final product. Some directors actually are the screenwriters themselves because they decide on the final product on the set.

I'm not making excuses for screenwriters. Observing all this, and knowing how much we're getting paid at the end of the project, we also make arrangements to finish a script as soon as possible. A lot of us jobbers were used to fixing things before a shoot or doing it on the fly.

Whereas in the West, if you did a great script, you can live off the royalties till you die a fat old person, over here, it is not unusual for scriptwriters to take on 10 jobs all at once. I did it. My friends did it.

And come award time, scriptwriters are recognised by exactly only one award - Anugerah Skrin. FFM does not recognise scriptwriters. They recognise screenwriters - who are actually the directors who change a lot of things on the shooting script.

Which brings us to awards. Who the fuck cares? Gay people. Yes, Malaysia has a vibrant gay community, working under the cover of shadows to turn straight young men into whatever.

Aside from them, those awards and award shows mean little other than to entertain some folks at home with slight pageantry as well as increase the asking price for some actors. Yes, you may disagree with me, and I might be wrong. The opinions expressed in this article are personal and are just my own wanking. Don't take them seriously. Or fuck off. I don't care.

And then, when all is said and done, the TV stations come and buy everything. The rights to a lot of movies. Do the production houses even get royalty? They might, nowadays. I'm not sure. I do know for a fact that most creative workers - cast and crew - get nothing.

2. The people

When I threw a pitch for an almost impossible movie, every cast and crew member said they could do it. I listened very carefully to what they have to say and believe that for most of them, it is just a matter of getting another job. They perhaps suspect that I could land them another gig.

I'm gonna talk about level of skill, so I'll be the first to admit that my capabilities as a screenwriter are limited at best. I see the same lack of polish across the board. There are many excuses, but fuck it. For example, I approach screenwriting like problem solving, based on my training as a computer programmer. It is my personal opinion that we currently lack the skill to do something great and the way the industry is set up means sometimes crew and technical people have to choose between getting it right, honing their skills or simply to put food in their families' bellies.

Don't get me wrong. There are highly-skilled people in the industry, but sometimes they, too, are burdened by extremely short deadlines and crazy budget restrictions. Producers always sell the fact that they are working on a million other future projects to keep the crew and cast motivated. "He's doing 10000 hours of TV after this. If I could just get 50 of that..."

The people who have been honing their skills are the ones in the Chinese film industry. Then you have crazy freaks like Dain Said.

Not 'missing talent', but there is hardly any way to even improve the level of skill on the job.

Actors? Acting? I believe if the crew can recognise bad acting, there wouldn't be bad acting anywhere. maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe we should do 3D stuff only. That way, we don't have to use actors.

I'm biased. Instead of spraying liquid shit and blood through my ass on them, let's get to the common enemy:

3. The audience

Filmmakers here LOVE blaming the audience. "It's not MY fault, you're too STUPID to get it. Get it? STOOOPID!"

Or "I make stupid movies because those sell well to our STOOOPID audience."

And then the audience say, "I'm not stupid. HOW DARE YOU! I watch intellectual movies like Transformers and Transformers: Age of Extinction. You're the one who is stupid, for making stupid films."

You know what? They are all correct.

Movies have become an extension of our identity, our brand, our ego. The movies we like, or how we like a movie, define our image we put forth to the world, even though all images are always lies.

And thus, movies and our taste in movies are used as both weapons and targets. If you don't like Bunohan, then you're an uncultured idiot. If you don't watch rempit movies, you are a fucking elitist snob. All that hate, from people who say they love movies.

I don't believe there is a formula to get audiences to choose the 'right' movies for them to watch. And I believe it is undemocratic to chastise anyone for watching and/or liking anything. It's like being angry at a girl for not liking the right person (you).

The only solution is for everyone to grow up. To mature. This will take over 500 years, but eventually, we will have a vibrant Malaysian film industry, if Malaysia stays above water for that long. Figuratively and literally.

The Plan:

So here's the plan. It's amazing and elegant in its simplicity.

First, destroy the film industry.

In order for this to happen, we need to stop making movies for say, 10 years. Let most of the cast and crew move on to TV or Youtube. Let them hone their skills there.

Next, we rebuild the industry.

This requires bureaucracy and a heavy hand from administration. Funds must be spread horizontally first and vertically after that for specific goals. Proper guilds ensuring a fairer distribution of wealth must be backed by the Government at first and then hands off. We already see Music Authors Copyright and Performers' Rights royalty collecting setups in Malaysia and while some of that is a clusterfuck, the fact that they are there shows that it is possible.

Some initiatives such as limited screens for certain types of local films can be done, and given to some in the industry for them to manage it into a sustainable venture or the continued grants for short films by young people (FINAS has done some in order to foster new talent and we can see it working somewhat).

Guilds can also be a way for the industry to increase its own skills. People hardly join filmcraft associations because the associations are not functioning as unions who fight for the right to say, 2.5% across the board. But the template is there. If the guilds are useful and relevant, then they will hold power and clout amongst the filmmakers. They will listen to the guilds, then, which opens up various opportunities.

Some filmmakers love to shoot the shit for free. Pay them some money and a lively sustained discourse can be started. I know young filmmakers to be very passionate in bed. I mean, very passionate about their craft and love talking about it all night long. Most of it is complaining, but it is a viable platform for the sharing of ideas, tips, tricks, and so on.

Finally, we engage the audience.

I hate the term 'educate the audience'. Educate them to what? To movies YOU like? Fucking elitists.

Okay. I like pinku eiga of the Roman-Nikkatsu era. How about I educate you to the merits of having body fat on actresses who do BDSM? Or perhaps the revival of pseudo-intellectual pron that addresses existentialism and social issues in porn movies such as The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai and The Cow Cries at Dawn?

Nobody likes things imposed on them. Shoved down their throats. So I believe the term 'educate the audience' as a stupid way to try and bully the masses into some form of approved thinking. Stupid because it will not work.

Malaysia does not really have a film-viewing culture. Our reactions to our politicians also reveal a lack of maturity in some quarters. Therefore, I postulate that aside from some low-hanging fruits in the initial reboot of the industry, the final goals of improving the industry will only be felt around 50-500 years in the future.

But hey, you got to start somewhere.

Friday, August 1, 2014

High Level Functioning Sociopath

Just came back from Raya and for the first time in remembered history, I didn't fight anyone. I wanted to, but I didn't. More engrossed with other things and attaining peace rather than duke it out for no reason.

Raya has always been extremely stressful. In recent years, for example, I discovered a narrative going around some of my relatives that I was - or perhaps am - a lousy son who never called and never contributed anything to the welfare of my parents.

I don't know who spread these lies, and I don't care anymore. They can all suck my dick.

Their judgments stem from an intense desire to feel or be seen as better than other people - better than me. Better than my parents for having such shitty children.

I imagine that when they were growing up, their cognitive development was impaired by extremely psychopathic parents themselves. Sensing that this is not the family values and experience they were exposed to either through books, stories found in textbooks, or TV/movies (no Internet back then), they created holes in their souls.

I believe that humanity in its purest state yearns for and senses the truth, so their truth is that they live in a fake, shallow world, and secretly, they suspect this.

Hence, their immediate reaction is deluding themselves into the belief that others are worse off, or worse people. This ties in to the stories they tell themselves of how great they are - the chosen ones with the perfect whatever.

This leads to latching on to any theory, rumour or whisper that others are worse off or worse people than they are, for this is the only way they can feel adequate about themselves - massive amounts of schadenfreude.

Fueled by insecurities, immensely unstable emotionally, these people go forth into the world looking for other people's flaws - real or not. They will immediately believe whatever story or theory that suits their desired world view. They acquire achievements that are either meaningless and shallow or significant but made out to be meaningless due to a false humility.

Whenever I see these people, I only sense a mass of tangled psychosis, megalomania, delusion, dementia and the early onset of Alzheimer's Disease.

Humanity is in a state of insanity.

I'm happy to be back at my apartment, already working on a job that came in via messages just a few hours ago while I was on the road from my village back to the capital.

I accept all of your insanities. And I will do something about some of them, either through love, hate or whatever. For the rest of you, if you listen very carefully, you will hear the sound of me not giving a fuck.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

This, Too, Shall Pass


I feel like this character from Watchmen - Dan Dreiberg, the second Nite Owl. The world has gone to hell as news and images from Gaza and what  has happened and what is happening concerning MH17 and the ongoing investigation with the attempt at recovery of the bodies.

Helpless and useless in the face of crisis. And yet, if our purpose at this moment is to do nothing - for most of us who can contribute nothing - then we will do nothing to the best of our abilities.

There is absolutely no need to make these impossible tasks for finding out what really happened and what can be done more difficult by throwing our wailing selves into the mix. Would it contribute anything positive to the unbelievable situations we are witnessing? If so, then Godspeed. If not, pause and reflect.

This, too, shall pass.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Sejuk Mata Pedang, Dingin Hati

Baru-baru ini, seorang rakan datang kepada aku dan berkata, "Aku nampak kau lebih ceria dari dulu. Apa yang kau buat?"

Aku pun bercerita pasal eksplorasi mencari kebahagian dan keamanan.

Dia terus menceritakan pasal bagaimana seorang telah memotong barisan menunggu teksi. Dia mahu tahu apa yang dia boleh buat untuk menangani beruk dalam kehidupan seharian.

"Aku tak mampu nak bagitau kau apa yang kau boleh buat, sebab aku hanya melihat ke dalam untuk menentukan bagaimana aku boleh mencapai keamanan," kata aku.

"Tapi, orang yang menolak aku, dia dah buat benda yang salah, dan dalam dunia ni, ada benda salah dan ada benda betul."

Dia mengeluarkan kata-kata itu dengan penuh kesakitan dan kemurungan. Persoalan 'betul dan salah' ialah antara asas mencipta 'pihak' 'aku vs dia', 'kami vs mereka'.

Akhirnya, ia akan menjurus ke 'cerita yang kita kisahkan pada diri sendiri'. Dalam cerita ini, biasanya kita akan memegang watak hero atau orang yang dimangsakan. Pemikiran dan identiti mangsa ialah tempat persembunyian dan kota ego yang paling kukuh.

Tindakan yang boleh diambil bergantung pada pelbagai faktor, jadi tiada jawapan yang mutlak untuk apa tindakan boleh diambil oleh sesiapa atau seseorang pun dalam satu-satu situasi. Contohnya, adakah orang yang memotong itu memegang pistol? Adakah dia perempuan mengandung yang hampir melahirkan anak dan perlu ke hospital secepat mungkin? Sekiranya kawan aku memarahi si pemotong barisan, adakah dia akan dapat mencapai tujuannya? Apakah tujuannya? Adakah tujuannya untuk memulihkan sistem barisan? Atau untuk berasa 'lebih bagus' sebab yang memotongnya menunjukkan sikap beruk yang biadap (beruk yang sopan tidak akan memotong barisan)?

Banyak faktor dan pembolehubah untuk membimbing tindakan, tetapi hanya ada satu jawapan untuk reaksi dalaman, iaitu tiada reaksi. Lemah sangat semangat kita dan rapuh sungguh keinginan kita untuk keamanan kalau tindakan sebegitu mampu menggegarkan kita daripada keadaan tenang menjadi marah dan sengsara.

Dan bila seorang manusia memotong barisan, maka apa yang terjadi hanyalah seorang manusia telah memotong barisan. Ini baik atau buruk? Betul atau salah? Manusia atau beruk? Nilai baik dan buruk, betul atau salah, malah label manusia atau beruk ini hanya ditetapkan oleh kita, dengan persepsi dan pandangan kita sendiri.

Jika hendak mengambil tindakan menghalang pemotongan barisan itu, kita tidak perlu membuat keputusan dan penghakiman sama ada tindakan itu baik atau buruk, betul atau salah. Kita boleh saja, dalam situasi itu, pergi ke orang yang memotong barisan dan menyatakan bahawa kita tak bersetuju dengan pemotongannya.

Apa yang terjadi seterusnya  akan melalui proses sama.

Dalam setiap fasa proses ini, tiada satu pun keperluan untuk emosi atau penghakiman. Apa pandangan dan pendapat kita tentang sesuatu yang terjadi tidak diperlukan untuk membuat keputusan dan mengambil tindakan. Tetapi nampak penting, ya? Penting untuk siapa? Ego. Penting untuk ego.

Aku cuba menjelaskan semua ini, tetapi rakan aku sudah marah. Dia berasakan aku sudah menghakiminya. Secara telus, ya. Satu-satunya pandangan yang boleh mengesan ego ialah melalui ego sendiri. Aku telah nampak egonya melalui ego aku sendiri, dan satu-satunya cara aku memproses ini ialah dengan tidak melakukan apa-apa reaksi dan memerhatikan ego aku melihat egonya, dengan sedar bahawa tiada satu pun elemen-elemen ini ialah diri manusia yang sebenar.

Diri manusia yang sebenar ialah kesedaran.

Kesedaran pasal semua ini. Kesedaran pasal detik sekarang.

Dalam kesedaran, tidak ada kesengsaraan, kesangsian atau keinginan. Inilah matlamat manusia yang sebenar.


Ketenangan Dan Ketenteraman Abadi

Beberapa minggu yang lepas, aku berasa amat tertekan, dan hampir terjerumus kembali ke pola kelakuan yang berkait dengan tekanan.

Ada tekanan kerja yang sentiasa wujud, dan pada masa yang sama, struktur sokongan aku ranap dan tak boleh diharap. Aku rasa seperti keluarga aku memangsakan aku, aku rasa rakan-rakan hanya menggunakan aku bila mereka perlukan bantuan dan tidak langsung berterima kasih malah menyalahkan aku bila aku membantu mereka. Juga terdapat penjilat-penjilat jubur taik yang menjengkelkan dan beruk-beruk yang masih belum berevolusi, menyalak sekeliling aku.

Aku rasa seperti diburu. Aku rasa kacau. Aku bimbang keadaan bapak dan mak aku yang bermasalah. Aku risaukan masa depan orang lain dan diri sendiri.

Jadi, sebelum aku terjerumus ke dalam lubang gelap tekanan dan perasaan negatif, aku pergi ke luar KL selama beberapa hari untuk mengatur kembali tenaga dalaman.

Beberapa tahun yang lepas, aku telah terjumpa buku A New Earth oleh Eckhart Tolle. Buku ini lebih bagus daripada semua jenis kursus latihan yang aku pernah sertai. Sejak 2003, aku pernah membelanjakan sejumlah wang ringgit untuk menghadiri kursus-kursus pembinaan kendiri, intelek dan benda-benda lain. Hasil yang aku dapat daripada buku berharga RM40++ ini jauh lebih berkesan, sebenarnya.

Aku menilai kembali kehidupan aku sejak aku membaca buku itu. Walaupun aku sudah sedar dengan kehadiran ego dan sumber kesengsaraan, aku secara perlahan terjerumus kembali ke pola kelakuan lama. Corak perangai dan pemikiran yang menyebabkan aku sengsara.

Aku sentiasa menggunakan otak untuk berfikir dengan kerap dan mendalam - ini boleh membawa ke arah kesedihan. Bukan hendak dikata yang mereka yang tidak berfikir (beruk) lebih bahagia, tetapi ada hadnya untuk berfikir pasal sesuatu, dan yang selebihnya hanyalah pemikiran untuk memuaskan ego. Pemikiran jenis ini tidak berguna langsung sebab tidak menyelesaikan masalah. Berfikir sebab seronok berfikir dan rasa pandai bila berfikir.

Ada beza antara pemikiran yang membuahkan hasil dan pemikiran yang hanya menjadi penguat ego dan identiti. Berfikir supaya boleh kata, "Aku seorang pemikir. Aku pandai. Aku lebih bagus daripada kau."

Ego dalam diri kita sentiasa mahukan sesuatu untuk membuktikan kewujudannya, dan benda paling bagus untuk menguatkan identiti yang akhirnya akan memberi definisi kepada ego ialah perasaan negatif. Self-flagellation.

Aku pernah melalui keadaan ini bila aku terkena insomnia selama tiga tahun sebelum filem-filem aku keluar di pawagam.

Descartes pernah berkata, "I think, therefore I am". Sartre pula membaca ayat itu dan menambah bahawa "the I who thinks is not the I who is". Ada beza antara fikiran kita dan pemikir - kita sendiri. Malangnya, untuk ramai orang, cebisan fikiran yang rawak ini dijadikan identiti dan kita tertipu yang inilah diri kita yang sebenar. Ini hanyalah ego.

Diri kita yang sebenar ialah semangat di bawah semua ini. Kita bukanlah buah fikiran kita, tetapi pokok atau akar, malah mungkin tanah yang melahirkan pokok yang membuahkan sesuatu.

Sebaik saja aku mengasingkan fikiran dan pemikir, aku dapat tangkap sejenis ruang antaranya yang membuatkan aku rasa tenang. Ruang antara fikiran dan pemikir.

Bahayanya, pada tahap ini, ialah jika aku menjadikan pemikir itu sebagai identiti aku, seterusnya mengalihkan ego supaya menempel pada imej pemikir itu pula.

Pemikir itu bukan imej. Bukan identiti, dan tidak terhad. Manusia secara nalurinya mahu mengukuhkan dan memautkan identiti (ego) pada sesuatu yang boleh diukur atau dihuraikan ciri-cirinya.

Aku Amir, 5 kaki 9 inci, penulis sambilan, perunding sambilan, suka makanan Siam, suka berfikir, suka menyakat peminat bolasepak yang terlalu serius sampai nampak macam beruk, kacak, konek kuat, jubur harum - semua ini ialah label. Label hanya berfungsi untuk mengehadkan atau membataskan diri kita yang sebenar.

Dalam animasi Jepun, Neon Genesis Evangelion (siri asal), episod terakhir, ada dinyatakan bahawa pada asalnya, manusia tiada definisi dan berada dalam keadaan terawang-awangan. Kemudian identiti mula memberikan laluan dan hala tuju, dimensi untuk bergerak dan tidak berasa terapung lagi. Bagi aku, inilah titik tolak bila manusia mula memilih antara keamanan dan kesengsaraan.

Aku gunakan contoh Evangelion sebab pembuatnya, Hideaki Anno, menggunakan medium animasi dan cerita ini untuk menerokai tekanan perasaan yang dialaminya pada masa itu, dan menghuraikan falsafah dan teori teologi yang dicedok daripada agama-agama Judeo-Christian bersama Zen Buddhism.

Jika membataskan semangat atau roh ialah punca kesengsaraan, apakah rahsia kebahagiaan?

Pharrell Williams dalam lagunya Happy, telah menulis lirik (sebahagian daripada liriknya sahaja) yang bagi aku amat dalam maksudnya.

"Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof."

Pharrell menyatakan salah satu definisi kebahagiaan sebagai perasaan seperti 'sebuah bilik yang tiada bumbung'.

Bilik yang tiada bumbung, kalau kita tengok daripada segi semangat, bermakna perasaan diri yang sebenar tanpa salah satu batasan yang biasa kita bayangkan, dalam kes ini, bumbung.

Cuba ingat bila rasa gembira atau bahagia. Bagaimanakah perasaan itu? Bagi aku, rasanya seperti sesuatu ruang halimunan dalam dada aku yang mengembang secara mendatar. Apa dalam ruang itu? Tiada apa-apa. Hanya ruang.

Bukan kosong. Tetapi ada ruang.

Ahli fizik menyatakan bahawa kebanyakan daripada alam semesta ialah ruang, bukan jirim. Di luar bumi ada ruang. Dalam atom, antara elektron dan nukleusnya, di dalam nukleus sendiri, ada lebih banyak ruang daripada benda. Daripada jirim.

Mengapa kita rasa gembira atau tenang bila semangat kita hanya mengesan ruang?

Jika alam semesta kebanyakannya ialah ruang dan bukan benda, bila hati atau semangat kita dipenuhi ruang, itu bermakna kita telah bersatu dengan alam semesta.

Konsep ini amat popular dalam banyak agama, termasuk Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity dan juga Islam.

Membuka hati dan menerima kejadian serta kehendak Tuhan dipanggil redha, dalam Islam.  Islam sendiri bermaksud 'surrender'.

Surrender kat sapa? Kat Israel ke? Kat bini ke? Tak, maksudnya surrender to the will of God. Apakah the will of God? Apa yang Tuhan nak buat? The present moment. Ketika ini, apa saja yang terjadi pada detik ini, ialah kehendak Tuhan. Jadi, kita boleh pilih sama ada untuk menentang semua yang terjadi pada saat ini - setiap nafas yang ditarik dan dihembus semua 8 billion manusia, semua perdagangan, perbualan,  termasuk perkara yang dikatakan buruk seperti pembunuhan, pencurian, rogol, dan sebagainya - atau kita boleh memilih untuk redha dengan kehendak Tuhan.

Redha bukan bermaksud bawak kereta sambil tutup mata. Itu bodoh namanya.

 Maksudnya, bagi aku, ialah kita boleh memilih untuk menerima ketentuan, pada saat ini, dan tidak membenarkan apa-apa yang terjadi untuk menyebabkan kita terganggu secara emosi. Kita masih boleh mengambil tindakan berkesan seperti menghentikan pembunuhan, pencurian, dan sebagainya. Tetapi kita boleh memilih untuk melakukan semua kerja tanpa komponen emosi yang terganggu, kacau dan negatif.

Secara asasnya, kita semua boleh memilih untuk jadi bahagia, tanpa menyalahkan sesiapa atau apa-apa di luar sana. Kita boleh memilih untuk berada dalam keamanan.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

The Greatest Mind of the 21st Century

I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century.

Now how do you feel reading that?

If you are an insecure monkeyfucking cocksucker, you'd be threatened. You'd feel stupid and inadequate.

"Is he saying I'M stupid?"

Someone did ask me that question after I made that proclamation. My answer was - and remains - YES!

Smart people - real smart ones - wouldn't give a flying fuck about how and what other people think about themselves. They would go on and do their work. Or masturbate.

It is only the extremely insecure who would react to this statement, who would treat everything as a competition. Because their lives are so hollow and meaningless.

Let's get back to how and what people think. Since most of the other disciplines that attract smart people - physics, chemistry, money - are all oversaturated, I have committed myself to this - about how people think. It stems from my own immense insecurity about my intelligence.

I come from a little village in the rural areas of Kuantan. 24 hours electricity was only available in 1986, the same year we got TV3. My career prospects were to be either a teacher, a drug addict, a sales assistant or join the police force. I came to KL in 1998 with immense insecurities. I had earlier seen the more affluent KL kids in my high school - SDAR - eating Swiss chocolate and getting whole roasted chickens every weekend.

My parents went to the school exactly twice in my five years there. Insecure people often compare things, and so I watched as these other kids - KL kids - spend thousands every year on tailored clothes, food and music. I spent probably RM20 a month until I was 17.

So I came to KL when I was 18, scared out of my mind. My carefully laid-out plan of landing a scholarship with my top 5% SPM results were sabotaged by George Soros and his currency speculating. Only the rich kids got scholarships. I got nothing.

Earlier in my childhood, my father had instilled in me huge personality flaws and insecurities that compel me to beat everyone at whatever game they were playing - unless it's video games. I suck at hand and eye coordination.

And so began my perilous, insecure journey.

What worked in my favour, though, is the discovery that KL folks are stupid. They are so stupid, a monkey - a real monkey or chimpanzee, Pan Paniscus - can beat them at everything. The only thing you needed to survive and even thrive is to be just a little smarter than the rest, which I was and am.

The problem with KL folks is this - insecurities. The very same insecurities my parents had instilled in me was and is apparent  in them. They are insecure about everything. How else would you explain their bond to flashy material possessions without any substance? How they group together like monkeys and laugh insecurely at things and other people they do not understand. Their ironic populist behavior, their strong desire - even stronger than rural people - to define themselves while paradoxically clinging to be part of something else.

Yes. City folk are weak. Hollow. And best of all, they are arrogant. The Achilles heel of many is always arrogance. Being judgmental is stupid. Being presumptuous is stupid. 'Being clever about it' is the stupidest thing EVER!

You know what's smart? It's not figuring out a complex equation in minutes. It's not being praised or envied by others.It's not getting the approval of other people. Not the money in your bank account, not the car you drive. Or the clothes you wear.

No.

It is being happy. In order to be happy, you have to be honest - with yourself, with people, but especially with yourself. It is letting go, it is accepting things as they are and then doing something about it, without any emotional attachments. It is being free.

Now that's smart. But don't tell these KL folks. They stupid.

Monday, May 19, 2014

Suit for the Soul

Recently, I ordered a suit. Went to a tailor, got my measurements done and last week, I went for a fitting.

It's a cheap suit, well below a thousand ringgit. I didn't get it for vanity or anything. I just noticed the eyes and stares some of my clients would give me when I show up in jeans and a shirt. And Bata's Power sneakers.

Ah, yes, I do a business where I get to meet - or rather HAVE to meet - corporate leaders. Wearing big boy pants actually means tailored pants.

I find it disrespectful when your client is all dressed up and stuff, and you come in jeans. So I ordered a suit. Yesterday, I bought a few shirts to go with the suit and because the last time I bought shirts was five years ago. Some of the shirts I'm wearing now has a few missing buttons. I dress like a fucking redneck.

In fact, one of my favourite brands is LL Bean. It's famous for outdoor wear, but recently have come up with office wear, using similar outdoor material. I want to wear a shirt meant for a lumberjack, but with corporate styling.

If I could, I'd wear a suit of leather armour and never, ever take it off. Like, fuck you, civilisation.

Five years ago, it was at FOS Centerpoint (now closed) and they had an amazing offer - three shirts for RM11. Yesterday, I bought two shirts for RM63 - there was a sale. One of them needs cufflinks, so today I bought a pair.

For advice, I consulted not one, but TWO former stewards and a few gay people and some Datuks. I also half-remember a feature on Esquire magazine about suits. I went to the tailor and got myself the most traditional, cheapest suit I could get. Black. British. Two buttons.

The suit will be ready next week. I imagined myself like Daniel Craig, but I'm more like Rodney Dangerfield, whenever he wears a suit.

It's a big deal for me cause I come from a swamp and I thought by this age, I'd be back in my village, slogging through some mud and weeds. Hardly any environment for a suit.

Life has taken me like a tumbleweed. I get blown off to one thing after another, like I'm Forrest Gump or something.

This suit will probably help in taking people's 1% attention away from me, but it won't protect me from feeling like an idiot. I HATE formal wear. It is a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless. EVIL!

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy



Go watch the thing on Youtube. Embed disabled. Click Here

 I can fix my father's roof, but I can't fix my father.

I went home to Kuantan recently, and immediately, as soon as I got off the car, I got really pissed off.

The anger and frustration continued till I went back to KL. This is strange to me, as I was deliriously happy before I went back. Something's not right.

So today I went to the pool to try and figure things out. Eckhart Tolle said that if you think you're so enlightened, go spend a weekend with your family.

My father's sick. He can barely walk. Confined to a wheelchair, but he still refuses to use it. Stubborn old man. What I get from him is this intense frustration. His faculties are fading and he can't communicate as he used to in the past. He'd lose words, sense of time,

As a man who kept a very rigid control of himself and his surroundings, I can imagine his frustrations.

My job involves fixing things. I put out fires, I consult on best practices, finding solutions to editorial and communication - sometimes business - problems. I like it. I thrive on it. It is one of the things that uses my full intelligence. It flexes my considerable mental muscles.

And yet, despite all I have achieved, despite all my skill, I can't make the lives of the people I care about better. I can't rework or regrow the neurons inside my father's aging brain, ravaged by four strokes. I can't cure him of his diabetes. Or his hypertension. Or his heart problems. I can't lend him the strength to walk again, so firmly and sternly.

I can't reach out to my mother and calm her down. Or teach my nephews how to do well in school.

I can't teach people how to be happy and this makes me depressed. Why can't any of you see what I see? Always, spending time with idiots, it is endless competition. It is always the same old bullshit.

I have seen and heard all of everything I see and hear today and next week before and all of you bore me to death. I have heard all the arguments, all the justifications, excuses and bullshit a million times over. I understand the darkness inside everyone's hearts. And I feel suffocated.

If anything, this trip highlighted my limitations, and I hate it. I'm a fixer. I find solutions. I solve problems. If people want to be stupid or if they don't want to listen to me, that's their problem. That's their bullshit stupid monkey lives. I hoped for better things for my family.

Part of growing up is learning to let go. That has always been very difficult for me. I have my father's stubbornness. Friends or even family members won't understand because all of them do not have my insight or my powers of empathy. This is not gloating or a desperate attempt by my ego to feel superior. I don't FEEL superior, I KNOW I'm superior.

And yet, for all my superior attributes, I can't fix my father. Or anyone. This pisses me off. I'm afraid I'll have to let all of you go. May this being called God do a better job than I did.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Lancapan Padu Maut: Ego dan Kemusnahan Dunia

Shallow. Tohor. Cetek.

Bagi aku, kebanyakan manusia yang aku pernah jumpa amat bodoh, bukan pasal IQ mereka rendah atau mereka tak boleh buat Add Maths. Mereka bodoh, bahlul, bengap dan pukimak sebab mereka - bagi aku - melihat dunia dengan penuh cetek dan hanya dari segi luaran.

Jadi, adakah untuk tidak menjadi bodoh, mereka semua harus jadi 'deep'? 'Deep', dengan tanda pembuka dan penutup kata, ialah slang bebudak jaman sekarang yang lebih menjurus kepada poyo.

Contoh: Tengok filem Holy Mountain lepas tu melancap tanpa kawalan. Tengok filem Zardoz dan cakap pasal subtext. Baca Haruki Murakami sebab... sebab poyo sial baca Haruki Murakami.

Yang membuat umat jadi shallow bukan pasal buku apa diorang baca, atau filem apa diorang tengok. Diorang shallow sebab diorang self-absorbed. Diorang taksub dengan diri sendiri.

Dalam diri setiap manusia, ada satu benda, satu makhluk yang asyik beritahu diorang bahawa diorang tu spesel. Diorang istimewa, diorang terpilih. Kalau 100 orang terjun bangunan 10 tingkat, mati atau patah riuk. Kalau diorang terjun takpe, sebab diorang spesel.

Bodoh, kan? Ya. Kenapa bodoh? Sebab diorang shallow.

Benda yang cuba yakinkan diorang tu bahawa diorang spesel, bagi aku, ialah setan. Sebab benda ni paling buruk dan racun paling pukimak anak anjing yang kita boleh telan.

Kalau kau dengar benda ni, kau akan percaya bahawa kaulah manusia terpilih, the Chosen One macam David Moyes. Kau akan percaya bahawa orang lain lebih rendah daripada kau. Ini akar umbi kepada semua perang, termasuk perang agama sebab orang beragama pun rasa diri sendiri lagi bagus daripada orang yang dia bunuh. Sebab apa lagi bagus? Macam-macam sebab yang diyakinkan oleh benda itu. Benda itu, ialah ego.

Kalau kau baca Freud, kau akan tahu dia kelaskan identifikasi diri dengan tiga tahap - id (naluri dan nafsu kebinatangan seperti nafsu makan, nafsu seks dan nafsu lain), ego (atas sikit, identifikasi dengan label dan cuba menghubungkan kehendak id dengan realiti dunia sebenar), juga super-ego (sesuatu yang berfungsi melawan kehendak dan nafsu id untuk menegakkan nilai-nilai kemasyarakatan dan berlagak sebagai suara hati yang murni).

Semua ni aku kelaskan sendiri sebagai ego. Senang. Sebab ini semua bukan diri kita, kesedaran kita yang sebenar. Bukan dalam bentuk ini.

Jesus Christ cakap, 'deny thyself'. Nafikan diri sendiri. Diri sendiri apa yang dia cakap tu? Ego. Pendita Hindu cakap, 'the mind is maya'. Minda kita ni tak real, sebenarnya. Minda kita palsu. Minda = ego, dalam konteks pendita Hindu tu la.

Kalau mamat yang backstab rakan sekerja untuk DILIHAT lagi bagus oleh bos atau mamat yang menipu bini sebab nak main perempuan lain sambil DILIHAT suci tu bukan diri kita yang sebenar, siapa diri kita?

Bagi aku, jawapan dia ialah 'the awareness'. Kesedaran. Ramai orang tak paham 'the awareness'. Dia main cakap je. Aku lain. Aku paham, sebab aku spesel. Muahahahaha.

Kau boleh panggil dengan nama lain. Jiwa. Raga. Bakul. Basket. Roh. Semangat. Kesedaran ni cuma muncul bila kau ada empathy dengan orang lain. Ramai orang yang CAKAP dia empathetic sebenarnya hanya menghakimi orang lain. Dia tak paham pun orang yang dia cakap dia paham tu. Dia cuma hakimi mereka dengan senang. Sebab apa? Sebab malas. Susah nak pikir pasal orang lain ni. Susah nak jadi empathic. Kena rajin. Ko rajin ke?


Monday, April 14, 2014

tranCenDenz

I went for breakfast and one guy asked me about how to address the religion issue in Malaysia.

We've heard all the bullshit everyone is doing. In some small, way, I am moving towards something that could make a difference, but I can't divulge any information yet. Instead, I will tell you the underlying philosophy behind it - my thoughts on it.

I believe that religion - all religions - in this country have been abused and misused to forward the agendas of some people. Mostly political, but even underneath that is an egoic purpose. Religion has been used to tell other people they are wrong. That the accuser's brand of whatever Kool-Aid they're drinking is superior, hence, they are better than other people. They are more enlightened, they know the REAL truth - all the same common trappings of a hyper-intellectual like me. The only difference is I'm way smarter to deal with it than these idiots.

Let's take Christianity and Islam. Or more specifically, the Catholic part of Christianity and the Sunni part of Islam. Both religions pray to the same God - the Abrahamic God. The underlying tenets of both religions are the same - be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes!

And yet the egoic pursuit is about the differences, because only through differences can any one claim to be better or superior than another.Even though God said, in ALL the holy books, that beside God, everyone is the same. And He/She/It is the ONLY one who judges all.

One can simply look at the Ireland problem to see how Catholics and Protestants kill each other or how Shiites and Sunnis do the same. For what? So that one person or a group of people can assert a very unstable and ultimately false sense of superiority.

It is ultimately egoic in nature. Total bullshit.

These idiots crave the approval and acceptance of others because they subscribe to the point system, without even knowing all the rules for scoring. Why? It has been stated before and I'll say it again - these people have such unstable faiths that they need the validation of others, the agreement, that they are doing the right thing.

Anyway, I believe that any effort in developing an inter-faith agenda is to set common goals and work together towards them. This will encourage these religious people to find similarities, a common ground that is NOT based on talk or fighting over who gets born when and on which desert.

I believe that if people of all religions in this stupid country can agree on say, helping the poor, and act in tandem towards that same goal, regardless of religion, race and stupid denomination, there can be hope.

Set a common goal - help flood victims on the East Coast or work together towards addressing drug problems or social issues. Stop TALKING and do something. Together.

AND.

Kick politicians from any project. Politicians and politics are ruining the country, creating their own stupid religion. We have seen Anwar, DAP, PIS-M and UMNO make use of religion to forward their ends. Why? Because they think you're all stupid.

Are you stupid? So far, yes you are.

Both Islamic and Christian philosophies are charitable in nature. They are all-embracing, accepting religions. Like Buddhism. But we hardly see any of that nowadays.

I believe that if we get religious people to see and accept each other as people, a lot of problems can be solved or avoided.

Realistically, though, I doubt this will ever happen. Ego always wins in the minds of monkeys, even though the Hindu stance on the mind is that the mind is maya. Virtual. It is not real. This extends to the ego, but nobody wants to give up the drug of feeling as if they are better than other people. As if they are special.

It makes me sick.

It will take a lot of soul searching before these monkeys attain the realisation that they are NOT the center of the universe, but they ARE the universe.

Well, Malaysians have a choice. I give them 50-400 years to evolve and gain tranCenDenz, capital C, capital D. Before that happens, all of humanity will be on a train, escaping the effects of climate change.