STICKY: Federal Territory for Amir Hafizi!

Please click on the widget on the upper right side of this blog and help me pay off my PTPTN loans. And possibly get me a ride.

I have joined the Blog4FT competition. It's a blogging competition where people write about the Federal Territories - KL, Putrajaya and Labuan.

I entered because last night, I was looking down and saw only my dick, with throbbing veins and flexing its muscle. So I decided to enter in the media category (so most of you bloggers need not worry. I'm not competing with you).

First prize is a Kia Optima Novus (for the media category).

If I win, I'm going to sell it off and pay my PTPTN debt in one shot. I will wear a baju Melayu to the PTPTN office and have the major television event recorded. I will then post it on YouTube as an example on how to handle payment to PTPTN, in style.

Whatever money that is left will be used for two things - to get myself another, cheaper, used car, as well as to fund my trips to Thailand.

This is the only way I can write another installment of National Pornographic Special and Discovery Travel and Fucking.

Tet tet tet teeee tet! Tet tet tet teeeee tet! Tet tet tet teee tet tet tet tet teng! Dong dong!

So vote for me, bitches! Your votes count for 30% of the points. You can also click here:



This is a sticky post and will stay up here until the contest ends in January next year.

STICKY: Tulis Surat Kepada PTPTN

NOTA: INI ADALAH ARTIKEL 'STICKY' YANG TIDAK AKAN DITURUNKAN SEHINGGA BAYARAN PINJAMAN AKU KEPADA PTPTN DILANGSAIKAN (OLEH AKU SENDIRI) ATAU SEHINGGA PTPTN MENUKAR CARA MEREKA MENDAPATKAN KEMBALI PINJAMAN YANG TIDAK BERBAYAR.

NOTE: THIS IS A 'STICKY' POST, AND WILL NOT BE TAKEN DOWN UNTIL I COMPLETED PAYBACK TO PTPTN OR UNTIL SUCH TIME WHEN PTPTN CHANGES ITS METHODS IN RECOVERING UNPAID LOANS.

Sebelum aku berhenti bercakap pasal PTPTN dalam usaha aku memberi tumpuan kepada urusniaga menjual bontot demi membayar 12% faedah pinjaman PTPTN, ini aku kepilkan alamat-alamat berkenaan.

Aku bercadang untuk menulis surat kepada mereka untuk memberitahu perihal masalah PTPTN. Senang je. Surat rasmi. Ko bayangkan, kalau satu juta surat, hard copy, sampai kat diorang ni. Soft copy, dia delete je. Hard copy, dia kena failkan.

Mintak tolong mak bapak dan adik-adik ko tulis sekali.

Kalau korang semua ada pengalaman buruk dengan PTPTN, sila hantar kepada diorang. Jangan hantar pada aku.

Perlu diingat: AKU TAKKAN MERAYU UNTUK KURANGKAN FAEDAH yang dikenakan pada aku. Atau nak mintak duit free. Kalau ko nak mintak duit free, ko boleh buat kempen ko sendiri. Ini semua bukan tujuan aku.

Aku memang berhutang, dan aku harus bayar. Wajib. Pasal bila aku tuntut apa yang orang lain patut bayar pada aku pun, aku nak diorang bayar.

Tujuan utama aku cuma untuk memberitahu masalah yang dihadapi peminjam PTPTN apabila ingin membayar balik.

Kalau dah cakap, ”Kami takkan terima apa-apa pelan pembayaran.” dan ”Kami akan mengheret ke mahkamah dan mengecaj kadar faedah 12%” serta ”Terpulang pada PTPTN untuk menerima pembayaran daripada kamu”, aku rasa macam berurusan dengan Ah Long je.

Fokus aku pada:

1. Layanan khidmat pelanggan PTPTN daripada semua bahagian yang aku hubungi.
2. Masalah dengan saman dan protokol perundangan.
3. Cara pembayaran kepada PTPTN.
4. Pengenaan kadar faedah sejak beberapa tahun lepas dan BUKAN pada tarikh pengeluaran keputusan penghakiman.

Lepas aku hantar, aku letak kat sini. Korang nak copy, go ahead.



Datuk Seri Najib Tun Abdul Razak
Perdana Menteri Malaysia
d/a
Principal Private Secretary to the Prime Minister
Office of the Prime Minister of Malaysia
Main Block, Perdana Putra Building
Federal Government Administrative Centre
62502 PUTRAJAYA
MALAYSIA


Y.B. DATO' SERI MOHAMED KHALED BIN NORDIN
Menteri Pengajian Tinggi
PEJABAT MENTERI
ARAS 7 BLOK E3 PARCEL E
PUSAT PENTADBIRAN KERAJAAN PERSEKUTUAN
62505 W.P.(PUTRAJAYA)
minister@mohe.gov.my
TEL: 03-88835010
FAKS : 0388891952



En. Yunus Abdul Ghani
Ketua Pegawai Eksekutif Perbadanan Tabung Pengajian Tinggi Negara (PTPTN)
Wisma Chase Perdana,
Off Jalan Semantan,
Damansara Heights,
50490 Kuala Lumpur.

Oh ya. Simpan semua dokumen yang kau terima, terutamanya daripada firma guaman.

Dapatkan khidmat nasihat peguam. Juga ada Unit Bantuan Guaman untuk mereka yang miskin atau tak kenal lawyer atau bukan lawyer di semua bandar utama.

Lepas dapatkan khidmat nasihat mereka, sila hantar aduan berkenaan firma guaman berkenaan kepada Bar Council:

Salina Lim Abdullah
Malaysian Bar Council Executive Officer

Address:
No. 13, 15 & 17, Leboh Pasar Besar
Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia
50050

Telephone: +603-20313003 (Ext.189)
Fax: +603-20316640

Juga, Ahli Lembaga Pengurusan PTPTN:


Y.B Dato’ Dr. Mohamad Shahrum bin Osman
Pengerusi
Ahli Parlimen Lipis


Y.Bhg. Datuk Idrus bin Harun
Peguam Cara Negara
Jabatan Peguam Negara


Encik Nik Hassan Shah bin Nik Ab. Rahman
Timbalan Setiausaha Bahagian
Bahagian Kawalan dan Pemantauan
Kementerian Kewangan Malaysia


Y.Bhg. Datuk Dr. Zulkefli bin A. Hassan
Ketua Setiausaha
Kementerian Pengajian Tinggi Malaysia


Y.Bhg. Tan Sri Dr. Zulkurnain bin Haji Awang
Ketua Setiausaha
Kementerian Pelajaran Malaysia


Encik Che Omar bin A. Rahaman
Timbalan Ketua Pengarah (Pematuhan)
Lembaga Hasil Dalam Negeri


Y.B. Datuk Halimah binti Mohamed Sadique
Ahli Parlimen Tenggara


Cik Mariany binti Mohammad Yit (Mariany & Co.)
Ahli Yang Dilantik Oleh Y.B. Menteri

Aku dapat daripada:

http://www.ptptn.gov.my/web/english/corporate/management

Kalau salah, gambar, sila rujuk di laman web berkenaan.

Diorang semua ko boleh hantar kat pejabat diorang sendiri atau kau hantar je kat alamat PTPTN:

Wisma Chase Perdana,
Off Jalan Semantan,
Damansara Heights,
50490 Kuala Lumpur.

Kalau kempen aku yang pertama ni tak berjaya, aku akan carikan alamat pejabat diorang dan juga alamat rumah, kalau sampai ke tahap tu.

Perlu diingat, tak perlu maki diorang macam orang gila. Kita ni, orang Malaysia, orang berhemah. Cuma, berikan penjelasan berkenaan masalah yang ko hadapi.

Lagipun, kita ni penghutang yang hina.

Aku sibuk sekarang, jadi aku takkan tulis sampai first week of June. Pastu aku akan hantar. Kalau korang nak tulis dulu, korang tulis lah. Aku akan buat templat kalau korang nak, pasal aku penulis – ini memang kerja aku.

Korang print, tukar nama dan IC, pastu hantar. Hard copy, tau. Soft copy boleh delete je.

Aku jugak akan dapatkan khidmat nasihat dari peguam yang aku kenal untuk pastikan aku tak langgar undang-undang.

Kalau aku dapat respon yang wajar dikongsi, aku akan letakkan di sini. Kat website aku.

Sambil tu, aku akan berusaha keras untuk membayar kembali pinjaman PTPTN. Perlu diingat, kita di pihak penghutang. Hak kita sama macam hak anjing kurap je. Tapi aku takkan membiarkan pengalaman buruk aku berurusan dengan PTPTN hilang begitu sahaja.

Daripada ko undi pembangkang, baik ko hantar surat kepada semua orang ni.

Ingat. Takde sapa yang akan tolong kita melainkan diri sendiri.

Dan jangan lupa untuk menyimpan semua surat yang ko hantar/terima. Pastu hantar kat aku imej scan nya.

Saya Yang Menjalankan Tugas,

Setan Kuning

Roid Rage

I want to pick fights with small kids.

I hate Naruto. Not because Naruto's fucking gay. Hell, it would have been cool if Naruto would just come out of the closet and admit to being the gay icon he is.

Like when he actually kissed Sasuke:



Here's all of the dialogues in Naruto:

Naruto: Sasuke!

Sasuke: Naruto!

Naruto: Sasuke!

Sasuke: Naruto!

Naruto: Sasuke!

Sasuke: Naruto!

Repeat ad infinirectum.

Naruto is fucking gay.

But that's not why I hate Naruto. I hate Naruto cause all its fanboys and stupid fucking fangirls believe that everyone copied from Naruto.

Avatar? Naruto copy! Why? Cause it has a village in it.

Jessica Alba? Naruto Copy! Why? Cause Naruto fans are fucktards.

I fucking hate Naruto.

In fact, let me just spoil everything for you right now:

In the end, Naruto makes love to Sasuke's sweet slut ass.

THE END.

Cowboy Bebop

The greatest thing that mankind can ever achieve is Cowboy Bebop. I said it then, I'm saying it again.

I believe that a superior, imaginary being put humans on earth, possibly created us after he created himself using a... BOOM STICK!

Anyway, I believe that we were put on earth so that one day, we would make Cowboy Bebop.

After that, Armageddon.

Cowboy Bebop is the highest aspiration of mankind - the greatest form of its art, science, ideas and whatever else. To go beyond Cowboy Bebop, is impossible.

When I first saw Cowboy Bebop, I ejaculated violently, several times. Drowned my neighbour. That's how great Cowboy Bebop is.

Random House

I have refrained from making butt jokes about Anwar, or making him the butt of jokes. For several reasons:

1. Anwar is no longer funny. He's boring. Old news. So the man gets caught/accused of buttfucking every 10 years.

BIG FUCKING DEAL.

Cry me a fucking river.

Now, YoRais, that's the HOT, IN-THING at the moment, yo!

2. People are self-centered. I am people. Therefore, I am self-centered. Not as self-centered to the extent of cutting in line like some mildly well-dressed assturd monkeyfuckers (pin-striped shirt) at the mamak shop at 3-2 Square, during lunch today.

Cut my queue again tomorrow, and I am going to eat your children.

Not even as self-centered as the sow and piglet at Midvalley Megamall this morning - a mother-daughter team of queue-cutters at the taxi stand, North Court, on whom I unleashed a tirade of profanity which caused the girl to cry.

No.

But still, I only care about myself, so fuck Anwar. Figuratively.

3. I am getting angry. Angrier and angrier. ANGRY!

Interview with an Umpire

So after almost everyone left the office, I went down to have dinner with one of my best friends.

I found myself with her, sipping cooling coffee as we farted and burped after a heavy meal of chicken and rice.

"They annoy me," she said.

"Who?"

"Idiots."

Me: Why?

She: They just do! They annoy me! Because I don't believe in stupidity or innocence. Everyone is responsible for everything they do. They are evil, malicious, spiteful, self-centered, EVILLLL!!!! ARRGGHHH! They annoy me.

Me: They're people. People will always be like that. But why?

She: Why what?

Me: Why allow yourself to be annoyed? Why give them that power?

She: What do you mean? I find them annoying because I hold on to values. Right and wrong. Ethics and morality. And I shall not compromise.

Me: Wait. Those are good values. If you hold on to good values, only good things will come from them - only good feelings. Being annoyed, I believe that there is something else you are holding on to. Something negative.

She: Do you know what it is?

Me: I don't know what it is. That's for you to find out.

She: ...

Me: ...

She: So, how are you?

Me: You know, not many people ask that and stick around to hear the answer.

She: Maybe because you deflect everything, every time someone asks.

Me: Maybe because they all fall asleep after a while.

She: So tell me. How are things?

Me: I'm stressed out, man.

She: Why? Work?

Me: Work is work. This is not as bad as the time when I puked blood. So, it's still manageable. I'm coasting, mostly.

She: So? Your father?

Me: ... yeah.

She: What's happening?

Me: I...am...so....angry. ANGRY!

She: Why? Superhero complex?

Me: No.

She: Why?

Me: I'm angry. ANgry. ANGRY. REALLY, REALLY ANGRY.

She: Not at him?

Me: No.

She: At the situation?

Me: Yes... and no.

She: Then?

Me: Huhhhhhh.

She: ...

Me: I am okay with death. I dealt with that last year. The reality of it all. The mortal nature. The fact that we are all going to die. That my father will die. That is all... accepted. I guess... I am just not ready to accept that he is so stubborn at giving himself pain. At torturing himself. At smoking four packs a day, not watching what he eats, not caring about wounding his legs when he has diabetes.

Me: I think about it. About how he can go blind. How he can lose his legs. And to avoid all of those things, is not impossible. I hate it. I hate the fact that there are things that can be done, but is not being done.

She: ...

Me: I wake up every morning, and I have this thing hanging over my head. This, swinging axe.

She: The Pit and the Pendulum.

Me: ...

She: Sorry, you were monologuing. Continue.

Me: There's that thing. It hangs over my head. If my father spends the rest of his life in pain, I am not sure how I can live with that. I cannot accept that.

She: There are things you can't resist. When you've done all you could, there is nothing else you can do.

Me: I hate the fact that I am poor!

She: You are not poor.

Me: Yeah, my neighbour is poor. I hate the fact that I am not rich. I can't hire an army of nurses. I can't fly in specialists from Johns Hopkins. I can't afford cryogenics, robotics. I can't hire people to ensure that no bramble or bush cuts into his skin.

She: You have a choice. Resist circumstances, or accept them. Not accept them as in surrender and die and not do anything. Just... be okay with it. Can you be okay with it? I mean, be okay with it, and function however you can? Cause they need you out there. Being angry, hateful, stressed out, will not help him, it will not help you. You need to function. Become your aspect. And you need to be okay with it.

Me: It is not easy.

She: It can be.

Me: You know what? This is why, over the years, I have lost and gotten rid of a lot of friends. This is why, all these years, I've only kept a few.

She: Yeah, I know.

Me: I'll just have you know, I'm on your side.

She: Of course. Because I KNOW I'm right.

Me: Yeah, I don't care if you're right or wrong. You can be as wrong as you can be. You can get into a fight, cause you killed this person's baby. And ate it. I don't give a shit. I'm on your side.

Membujur Lalu, Melintang Patah

Aku tak kira, dan aku tak berkira.

Jadi, maka jadilah. Mati, maka matilah kau.

Sylvester

I am now on Twitter.

Name: amirhafizi.

The Knowledge-Based Ego

Ever notice, when you are telling people something they may not know, a sense of pride sometimes creeps in? For a brief moment, you feel superior to the person who do not know. And sometimes, for some people, being told news they did not know makes them feel a bit inadequate?

Or when you hear some idiot you just educated, saying, "Oh, I knew that already! I know everything!"

This, my friends, is the ego. The festering, cancerous tumour that envelops the soul, making it as dark and stupid as their mother's vaginal canal from which they came.

How do you react to all this bullshit? Don't. Leave them be. To die. To suffer and kill each other. I have seen egos consume each other. Habitual backstabbers and cannibals will eat each other up like Ouroborous, the serpent who eats its own tail.

In other words, fuck off and die.

Meanwhile, I am so fucking smart. I have just repaired my own PC. I am the greatest this universe has ever seen. I am the greatest under heaven, and above heaven, and in heaven.

No ego is bigger than my ego.

I do not need to be told that I am right. I need not be proven right. I KNOW I am right.

Amir Hafizi, Computer Diagnostician

Fucking hell, man.

My computer was experiencing problems. Every time I leave it off for more than a few hours, it won't start.

Meaning, I would turn it on, the lights would be blinking, but no display. It didn't even go into BIOS. No BIOS beep. After 20 times or more of restarting via the power button, it will be okay again.

It can't be RAM, cause that would generate a blue screen. Can't be a number of things, cause no blue screen. Just... nothing.

I suspected either:

a. graphics card burnout

b. temperature problems

c. Hard disk dying

d. Power supply issues

Of all this, C is the worst possible scenario. I have in these hard disks, 14 years worth of stuff I accumulated.

Thankfully, most of the important documents are saved in my portable hard drive as well as the Internet.

So when I have a problem, usually I call one of my friends. He came here, and tried to fix it. But, couldn't diagnose the problem properly. He showed me taht the temperature of the CPU is quite high - 52 degrees Celsius, on a rainy day, without running anything.

Diagnosis: system too hot. Fans might be dirty.

Treatment: clean the fans, perhaps install a cooling system, a new power supply, and a new large copper heatsync for the processor, re-applying the liquid coolant.

Cost: around RM200.

Then my brother just announced that he will be staying at my apartment for one night. Asked him to take a look at my system, as he has over 20 years experience with this shit.

He says that temperature is the least of my problems. What I was experiencing sounded like:

a. onboard battery failure

And the treatment is:

a. buy a new motherboard battery

Cost: RM7

He did some stuff to my PC, when I was watching House, and then went to sleep.

When I checked on my PC just now, I discovered that after rebooting, my login screen has gone 800x600, was in 16-bit High Color and was stuttering like an old lady with aa walker, humping a mailbox.

My brother's already asleep, so I had to use computer skills I haven't accessed in more than 10 years.

I rebooted several times, hoping the problem would just go away. Nada.

I left it for 10 minutes, hoping it would go away. Nope.

I restarted in safe mode. Success! Resolution was back to 1024x968.

Fiddled a bit, defragged C:, ran scan disk, checked for viruses, rebooted normally.

Still the same problem.

Rebooted and entered via Ubuntu.

Did ssome real thorough checking for stupid shit disk errors and possible bullshit viruses or trojans. Nada.

Restarted, same problem.

Did a rollover. Restored system config to a safe backup.

Success!

Yay?

Here's my diagnosis:

A. My computer is too old.

Even at 1.76GHz dual core, 4GB RAM, it is a bit old.

Treatment:

Shopping.

I don't need an entirely new PC. I just need an upgrade.

A new motherboard, with a new processor. I am keeping the RAM. A new hard disk - 1TB and power supply.

I'll keep everything else.

Cost: I can't afford it, unless some things happen soon.

Wanking

A friend of mine went to a management seminar recently, paid for (in the millions, I presume) by his company.

It was a Spiritual Training thing, or whatever, which uses tenets of religion at the workplace.

Here are some excerpts from the training course:

"The Big Bang is proof that the theory of evolution is a lie! A lie!"

My friend waited for backing facts or statements from the facilitator, but that was that.

And those who WANT TO BELIEVE nodded their heads sagely.

Then, there is this:

"George W Bush is an example of a leader who only uses IQ."

This, in reference to how spirituality, in this case structured religion, can save you. How, if you use religion, then you will be far better than Bush. That bush is, ultimately, an intelligent man who only relies on intellect.

Unfortunately, Bush has always appealed to the religious.

"I believe God wants everyone to be free, and that is part of my uhm, ah, part of my foreign policy," said Bush, in one of his speeches.

And the crowd cheered on.

"I do not know about his politics, but I will vote for him based on his religion," said one American woman, about Bush.

So Bush won, because of faith and belief. Not because of intelligence.

I am not against religion. No, no! That boat sailed off a long time ago. I'm not shitting on anyone's religion - unless it's really, really fun to do so - but I want to point out how there are movements that want us to forego intelligence and replace whatever we use our intellect for, with faith.

Now, intelligence has its roles. So do faith and belief. Never shall the twain meet.

One priest at the Vatican Observatory puts it this way.

Religion started, maybe 5,000 BC. The Bible was written some few hundred years BC to a few hundred years after. Islam was a few hundred years after that. While science, Galileo, Copernicus, Newton, Einstein, Michio Kaku, all started only a few hundred years ago.

How can there be science in scripture? Empirical observation, hypothesis, repeat experiments, etc are all new concepts which did not really exist back then, when today's most popular religions just started being written by man.

Same thing with democracy, which is a new thing. Monarchy, despotism, anarchy all existed for thousands of years and was largely sucessful until democracy - the new kid on the block - was started a few centuries ago.

I find attempts to validate religion through science disturbing. Faith is not scientific. That's why it is called faith. A belief in something you can neither prove, nor disprove.

I mean, I can say, "I believe that the world was created as an ornament on the tree of cosmic awesomeness, by some large aliens that resemble snake sock puppets that can talk. They did it after a night of partying and TP-ing the neighbour's house."

No one can prove me wrong, as much as I can't prove my faith right.

Okay, I'm off to lie down and do some work now. Fuck you.

House of M: Death of the Messiah

When blogging first came into prominence in Malaysia, some media people tried to harness it by putting stock into personalities who exist online.

They believe that by tapping into brands (read: identities) who are popular, they can also ride on their integrity and sell more stuff. Shampoo, perhaps.

Well, that worked beautifully, for about five hours. Well people realised that nothing about any of these Internet personalities make them any more special than you or me - I mean, anyone can start a blog or a website or start posting on FB and Twitter - that was it. The game was up.

Anyone can publish their own thoughts. And what was once an exclusive club for newspaper people and TV moguls and marketing gurus became the common field for everyone.

Everyone can have a blog. Everyone can have a say. Which means something like, in the Marvel or DC Universe, everyone has superpowers.

For centuries, humans have been a tradition of messiahs - cults of personalities. Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad, Churchill, Hitler, Pressley, Kennedy, Bush, Obama, Cullen, Neytiri.

Everything revolved around great men. And very few great women.

At the focus, is the individual. And forever more, the focus will be on the individual. However, the messiah tradition is soon to phase out. It will never die, but it will lose its impact.

Is anyone still as naive to wait for one person to come and save everyone?

Is it like a movie trailer?

In a world, where everyone is going to die, ONE MAN has the answer to immortality.

Does anyone still buy this bullshit?

In a time, when no one knows what will happen after we die, ONE MAN knows. Possessing mental powers all of us do not, he is really cool. And ANGRY!

No great work is ever the work of one man. Or woman. It is always a group.

We are becoming more connected, meaning that the individual will indeed become less and submerged within a collective hive-mind.

I am a fierce individualist. However, my utopia is a world where I do not have to be an individual.

Figures. Personalities. Will all make way to the collective hive mind, buzzing independent thoughts and actions, but functioning and synergising as a complete whole.

We are already well on our way. We buy the same, trendy, clothes. Listen to the same, popular music, watch the same, trendy shows. We connect to other people through a shared experience.

This will all evolve to a collective consciousness that is the sum of all its parts.

After that, we will all transform into Vorlorns and escape this plane of existence.

Tales from the Drunk Side: Anarchy in the Pewkay

I am a great sympathiser to the great anarchy philosophies. None of the anarchy movements, because all anarchy movements get tangled up in the focus of anarchy as actions.

Like throwing Molotov cokctails and smashing windows. That's not anarchy. That's destruction. The greatest form of destruction, the greatest effect, can only be achieved when it is organised.

The oposite of order is not anarchy. It is chaos. Anarchy and chaos are as different as the Sunni and the Shiite are different. Which means very different.

My belief in chaos is the ideal translated as, "without leaders". Not "without order".

This was all captured beautifully in Alan Moore's masterpiece V for Vendetta, which was bastardised by the Wachowski Sisters who did not comprehend what the work was all about, or simply took a different interpretation.

So don't watch the movie. Read the comic book.

In a world without leaders, there is order - voluntary order. Which means that everyone leads their own lives and govern their own actions.

Since it is an ideal, and though ideas are bulletproof, it is not really achievable.

I believe that people can decide for themselves the right amount of smut they want to generate and/or receive. That they are smart enough, individually, to determine what kind of slant or bias they want in their view of the world.

I believe that everyone has an opinion already, and do not really need other people's opinions as a guding light to anything. What people need is simply information. Some demonstrations, perhaps, as to how to view things - more as reminders and examples rather than doctrine.

I do not believe in control, by anything or anyone.

A system focused on leaders would beget politics, and as we have seen, politics and politicians have failed us on numerous times before. We decree and perhaps, surprisingly, agree as a society that politicians are stupid.

Take Bush - pure Spiritual Quotient, and no IQ or EQ. How can someone so fucking dumb in so many areas rise to the top of the world and became the most powerful global leader?

How? Because while he did not appeal to people's intelligence or even emotional maturity - he went after belief. He knows sentiment and how to play most people like a musical instrument.

Bush is an example of how faith and belief can lead to great disaster and cruelty.

The days when we can rely on one person to save us all, or one person to blame for anything and everything, are numbered.

With the scientific and technological advancement we have achieved as a species, every small step, have paved a road for all to have a bigger stake and a more powerful voice in shaping the world around us.

I believe that mankind is now poised, on the brink of eradicating politics and politicians.

For perhaps the first time in history, humans can have more say in what happens around them.

A natural democracy.

This democracy, is being incubated in chatrooms and blogs and Facebook and Twitter and QQ and social networking sites.

They are in SecondLife and WoW and KoL and RO and Maple Story. Sorority Life and Superhero City, Farmville and Restaurant City.

My father's generation had the Second World War. My brother had Vietnam and the sexual, cultural and civil rights movements. WOmen's suffrage.

For my generation, we are the midwives of the techno-spiritual democratic radicalism that could make or break the world. And we're also quite grandiose, and self-important about it.

If your company is not part of this, then it will die. If you are not part of it, watch and be helpless as your world is re-written around you as if you were in The Matrix.

Everyone can now assert reality. WIthin their sphere of influence, anything can be anything.

For years, I experimented with seeding ideas into people's minds and watch them grow. Ideas so ludicrous, but are no longer considered improbable.

I am not a God, merely a snowflake in a giant blizzard.

Self-awareness is peaking. More and more people realise every day that the world is what you make of it. This is the core of most religion, spiritual traditions and quantum physics.

If you believe that the world is bad, then it will be bad for you. If you believe that the world is great, or horny, then so shall it be.

Methods - the all-important hows - will become apparent as times goes by. All we have to care about, most of the time, are the whats and the whys.

I do not know what the final form will look like. I do not know exactly how. Or when, or where. However, I do know that one thing has not changed from the beginning. It is people who will determine how the world is and will be. Only this time, a lot more people will get a say.

Choose your weapons. No, tools.

Mine are information and perception. I have always had a keen sense of information flow. I know perception and opinion like I know the hairs on my ass.

I know where it is heading, whether we are on board or not.

End of the day, like in another Alan Moore masterpiece, Watchmen (also bastardised, but not so), it's all up to you.

I will do my best to make it happen. You do yours.

Intermission: Old Friends and Lighter Things

Met some old friends.

Haven't seen them in a while. Some, by choice. There are some old friends whom I deliberately left alone these past few months.

I was there, around them, at a time when I thought they needed me. As soon as I have outlived my usefulness, or when I think my presence is no longer needed, or if my presence could be detrimental to whatever, I tend to disappear.

Which is kind of stupid. So now, I'm going to go wherever I want to go and be wherever I want to be.

Nowadays, I would only hang out with people who make me feel good or leave me alone. Those who try to do stupid things to me? Well, fuck off and die.

On a lighter note, I finally got the light in this room fixed. For the past six months, I have been typing in the dark. With this new flourescent bulb, I hope to write even more.

I was really angry yesterday. Family stuff. Really, really angry. Oh well. Hopefully, today would be better.

My Monkey forecast for the year of the Metal Tiger is mixed. According to Joey Yap, I'll have to work hard, but asvancement is in sight.

I do not believe in the supernatural, but will probably be accompanying a friend to see a witch-doctor soon. Obladi, oblada.

Mabuk-Mabuk Kepayang: Akulah Syaitan III

Akulah syaitan, tanpa sesalan
Aku dah tulih, memang dah lama
Tapi ada yang tak paham - kesian!
Pergilah mampus, masuk neraka

Puki berdarah, puki berdarah
Tiap-tiap hari pun nak marah-marah
Ko tak penat ke, dekat puki?
Leset pakai cili, hari-hari?

Sapa nak hidup, dalam kesakitan?
Konek dikerat, kelentit dirabit
Apasal tak cari je kain kapan?
Pergi jadi makanan cacing kerawit?

Aku cari kau kemudian
Aku sekarang taknak melayan
Tinggalkan aku sendirian
Tinggalkan aku, seorang syaitan.

Tallow Aquamarine

I am at home, tired and drugged up. Pretty soon, I will be too woozy to write anything.

Mmmh?

Just one more week. And then, I will be back in Kuantan. For the New Year. Forecast is whatever, for me, the Metal Monkey.

I was born, on the hour of the rooster, on the day of the white metal dragon, the month of the rabbit, in the year of the Metal Monkey.

I like being a Monkey. This year, Monkeys are 6, 18, 30, 42, 54, 66, 78 and 90. Maybe a few are 102 years of age.

Oh well.

The Lost Generation

Still at the office. I am listening to Glee. I am waiting for Lost - the FINAL SEASON next week. Oh, nope, a few days from now.

I am going to enjoy this one, man. It is the one series that have failed to fail me after more than what, five seasons?

There are friends who failed me after just a few days, or a few months. Boston Legal never failed me, right to the end. Lost is also doing well.

One day, one of these days, I will do a TV series where I have full creative control. Ah, but that is, if it happens, most probably in the very distant future.

For now, I will concentrate on my stop coughing.

Intermission: Benadryl!

Everything is half finished. I will pick up the slack tomorrow.

I had five sticks of cigarettes today. My body cannot handle five cigarettes anymore. I will have to reduce tomorrow's intake.

I just had some benadryl, meaning I will sleep soon. Very soon. And wake up at 8am to finish everything off.

I notice that with quitting smoking (I haven't fully quit yet), my money does not drain that much. I used to go to the ATM machine, twice, three times a week. Now, one withdrawal can accomodate me for a whole week.

The anger is mostly gone. When it resurfaces, I try other methods to deal with it other than smoking.

The lethargy, though, is harder to combat. I am going for some time off during Chinese New Year, so I hope to recharge then.

I am still very worried about my parents. My father's health is stabilising, but it is not getting better. Oh well. My father has proven everyone wrong before. I believe that if his current track record of confounding the medical community continues, he still has probably 20 years of great health.

On other fronts, I am having fun tackling things I have never done before. To me, work - any kind of work - is a new puzzle to solve.

I am now doing something about Malay culture, which I have resisted for a very long time.

I mean, it is easy to find fault with anyone or anything. Finding what's good about people or a society is not as easy.

I believe that until you can be good to people who would naturally be your enemies, or an embodiment of what you hate, you have not achieved non-resistance with your own prejudices. You still have not accepted the world.

Seeking the goodness in people will bring forth goodness. Seeking faults or things to whine and complain about will only give you flaws and problems.

The spiritual shit I am practicing has done wonders for me. It works for me. Perhaps it will for you. And perhaps not.

All in all, I can't wait to have some rest. Tonight, and also Chinese New Year. I would love to see my Chinese side of the family. They're quite funny people.

My uncles come from a bygone era - the last of their kind.

My grandfather came to Malaysia in 1917 or sometime back then. He was in his teens, having been born sometime near or at the turn of the century.

His name was Fong Ah Man. A very 'Ah Beng' or 'Ah Lian' name, I guess.

He worked as a rubber tapper. A farm hand. It wasn't easy, I think. My family comes from the Guangzhou province. They used to plant fruits. Orchards.

One year, around a decade ago, one of my aunts went to Guangzhou to retrace our lineage. She brought back fruits - lychee and longan and whatever the fuck. She bought them from the Fong clan she found there.

I like to think that one of my ancestors is Fong Sai Yuk. But that could just be the cough medication.

We're Cantonese. Traditionally land owners. Though my cousins and uncles set up car workshops in Kuantan.

Each branch of the family takes one part of the car. There are air-cond specialists, engine workmen, body shop and chop, interior people, etc.

We all love lemang or any form of glutinous rice thing. Very unhealthy. Most of us die at quite old age. Only one uncle passed when he was 55. The rest mostly reach 70 or beyond. My grandfather managed 90++, I think.

He was a huge man. Big hands. Big, Buddha earlobes. White hair. Wrinkly skin. Sad, intelligent eyes.

He kept over 40 dogs at any one point. And 10,000 chickens. Kept bonsai trees. Gave me RM10 in my ang pow every Chinese New Year. His ang pows are always smaller in size, with a matte finish. No glossy paper. There would be pictures of a ship, a junk, almost every year.


Oh well. Am almost passed out from the benadryl overdose. See ya!

Mother! Father! Family!

I am writing something with a collaborator. It's about a family. Basically, my assignment is to write a family I would love to be a part of.

Honestly? I don't have any desire to be part of any family. I mean, I already have one. Why would I want another family?

My family is like a Malaysian version of The Addams' Family. We are morbid, dark, dysfunctional, but it works, somehow.

As a unit, we can be extremely evil. If we can agree to hate anyone, we will destroy that someone. We would spend 30 years having revenge for a long-forgotten slight. The amount of hate that we are capable of, if we get together as an evil council, is the most powerful force I have ever encountered. So thank God we are chronic individualists.

So it has been a challenge. Instead of a family I would like to join, I make it what other people might seem to be attracted to, in a family.

You know, like an all-accepting, non-judgmental whatever the fuck. Yeah, I know. Unrealistic, but hey, this is fiction.

An Early Childhood, Furnished by THEY

When I was a small kid, I was extremely angry.

I walk back home from kindergarten, through a trail amidst some tall grass, and I was filled with righteous indignation.

I was taller and bigger than most kids. Probably because my parents could afford more meat. Better quality food. Part of a Malay family, food is very important.

I love chicken.

My father worked as a teacher. He was never rich. Though I must say, God has blessed him with a green thumb. Anything he grew on his land turned out big and healthy.

We had kangkong he planted, the leaves of which were as big as yams'. Kangkong besar daun keladi. Cucumbers as big as a cow's penis.

Recently, when I started a spice garden for them, the basil grew as high as my waist and the leaves all were as big as daun sireh.

When he started experimenting with rearing chicken, the chicken all grew as big as small dogs.

He had a car, a motorcycle, and a brick house. Back then, a brick house is a luxury few could afford. We had cool marble floors, and complete flush toilets, while most of the other villagers still have outhouses.

It wasn't that my family made a lot of money. It's just that things have a way of working out for us. We were lucky, most of the time. My father is a frugal saver. The effort he put into saving money scared me.

So, I grew up with good food, and I had books. Lots and lots of books. Not mine. All of them from my parents' collection, or stuff Kuantan libraries threw out.

I read Ragtime. Little House on the Prairie. Ian Flemming's The Man with the Golden Gun. Little Women.

I never had any children's books. There were some, actually, but not much. When the Moving Library came to my village, I finally discovered Enid Blyton and the rest. Narnia, translated into Bahasa Malaysia.

There were illustrated books published by DBP.

And late at night, I would take out my father's Gospel of St Luke - a memento from his school days - and read the 'forbidden' bible.

This made me a very strange kid.

While most kids would be out and kill birds and snakes near the swamp, I would be safe at home, pretending to be asleep as my mother and sister tried to teach me how to read the Koran.

I hated kelas mengaji, because there are no stories in the Koran. There is only grammar and proper pronouciation and enuciation and whatever.

The villagers saw me as some sort of a freak, which I guess was justified, somewhat.

I didn't go and learn religious stuff from the PUS motherfucker, due to some dispute he had with my father. My father's a Chinese, genetically, and also a firm BN supporter. So the holiest of holy men in my village condemned him to hell decades ago.

Boo fucking hoo.

So every time I walk back home after kindergarden, some of the people would call me names and such.

They said that since I was fat, I was stupid. That I was a rhinoceros. That since I didn't study how to recite the Koran, I would go to hell. That I was fat because I ate the corrupt money of the BN party.

When I went to primary school, and got top place in my age group every year, they all said that I only got number one because my father was a teacher. That he pulled some BN strings and got me first place. It wasn't because of my hard work.

That last one, is true. I got number one not because of my hard work. The other kids were just so fucking stupid. How can you NOT get first place, when the competition was that bad?

I got 4As in UPSR - the best result you could possibly get - and I got into a boarding school. You know what they said? I got in because my father is a teacher, and he supports UMNO.

I got 8As in my PMR. I got eight aggregates in SPM, aceing six of 10 subjects.

When my father was asked, about how I did, he said, "Amir dapat lapan (Amir got eight)."

The reaction was, "Mujur bukan sembilan (Thank God it wasn't nine!)" Nine, as in F9.

Or, "Anak saya dapat Tiga! (As in, Grade Three, five levels above eight, I guess)"

I got into UM. (UMNO! UMNO!)

After I graduated (a decent 3.21 CGPA. No fireworks there) I got a job, but I was not a doctor, lawyer or engineer.

What a failure.

And then, in 2006, I was out of a job. I started my own company and did freelance.

When they come to the house, they asked, "What are you doing Amir? Still at the newspaper?"

My mother would make up excuses for me, but I would just stare them straight in the eye and say, "Saya menganggur. (I'm jobless)"

Some were perplexed that I didn't try to hide my shame. That perhaps, I was shameless? That I did not care what they think?

I mean, I worked for every single thing I got, dedicated myself at every opportunity, and all these years, all they ever did was try to discredit me and take me down so that they could feel better about themselves?

A background chorus, singing hate and despair and failure. A bunch of people underneath my trapeze act, with fucking spears to impale me.

The fuck should I care?

What have you ever done for me? Except waste my air.

And yet, if some of the projects I have in line happens, some of these spiteful idiots would be the beneficiaries.

I don't mind. Even maggots have a function. If we focus too much on the naysayers, the jealousy of insecure people who NEED you to acknowledge how great they are as compared to little pathetic you, the slaves of the ego, then I wouldn't get any work done.

Which reminds me. I have work to do. Cheers!