Friday, August 22, 2008

Intermission: Black Hawk Down Syndrome

My Internet is down. Joseph Anthony gave me the wrong account number and I can't pay him the monthly fee for this stupid Maxis Broadband thing.

So I will be busy with real shit in real life.

Just a word to the wise: There is nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in this world which matters more than freedom and independence.

I am waiting for news on some things. When I get them, and safely on my way, I'll share them here.

Could take a while, though. Maybe a year or two.

Anyway, fuck you.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Diz iz Bananas?

The Righteous Brothers

I look and I listen to righteous people, and a slow smile crosses my lips.

Let me rephrase that.

I look and I listen to righteous people, and I FUCKING LAUGH MY ASS OFF.

Now that, in itself, is righteousness. Pure and raw.

As the most righteous motherfucker on the planet, I can tell you a few things about righteousness.

Righteousness comes from a deep-seated insecurity that probably started developing in childhood.

It is the fear of being wrong. It is the need, the dependence, on being right. To feel superior than other people by being right, and they - wrong.

Being right is more addictive in crack cocaine.

In some cases, being right is necessary. As a journalist, you HAVE TO be right. As a judge, you also HAVE TO be right. As a doctor, you MUST be right. When you are driving a car, you HAVE TO do it right.

Otherwise, people die.

In most cases, though, being right is completely unnecessary.

Not daring to make a fool of yourself, not daring to be WRONG, you keep certain things to yourself and NEVER, EVER, find out.

I live on the bleeding edge of being embarrassed. I have crashed and burned so many times that my astral proection would look like a badly-charred skeleton. I am no longer afraid of being wrong. As long as I don't start peeing on minors in a sex tape, I'm okay with that.

Because right and wrong is simply perception. Marrying a 9 year old or having sex with a 12 year old may be illegal now, but at one time, it was perfectly legal and perfectly right.

Would you like to be right at that day and age?

People stutter and stumble over their words, to prove that "Oooh, I'M doing it right. YOU'RE doing it WRONG."

It's a disease, really.

In The Sandman, The Devil, Lucifer Morningstar, left Hell. He quit. Why?

In his monologue, he said, "And what do I get, in the end, being the other side of the coin? Do I stand at the edge of creation and yell, 'see? I was right all along!'. I don't want that."

Or something like that.

Even The Devil knew. It is pointless. Because right and wrong are viewpoints, perceptions, rates, agreements and whatnot.

What is worrying to me is when I see righteousness manifest itself as a competition for who is the biggest victim.

"I am a victim, therefore I am RIGHT. You are not a victim, or are a smaller VICTIM so you are WRONG, or I am MORE RIGHT than you are."

Oh well. What to do?

Now, back to work.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Rant: The Blind Leading the Blind

You know what pisses me off?

Blind people.

No, not blind people, blind people, but people handling the blind people. Geddit?

I mean, there are centers for the blind and the disabled all over the country (maybe, but I have seen a few) and you know what they teach?

Well, a blind friend told me that they teach massage techniques, playing instruments and weaving baskets.

What the fuck?

So the average blind man in Malaysia has clearly three options:

1. Be a masseuse.
2. Play music and beg on the streets.
3. Weave bloody fucking baskets.

Baskets. BASKETS! Bloody fucking baskets! How many baskets does one need?

Who came up with this shit, anyway? Malaysia's FIRST blind person? Goddamn.

Me: Hey, Eric, where you goin' man?

Eric: I'm blind, foo! Imma weave me some baskets.

Me: Is it good business, this basket thing?

Eric: Fuck should I know. I'm blind, motherfucker! I'm blind!

Fortunately, my friend Eric is actually employed as a telephone receptionist at an insurance company. He was recently (and by recently I meant 4 years ago, as I don't really hang out with blind people. What do I look like, Mother Fucking Theresa?) promoted to full receptionist.

He remembers like, 200 numbers or something like that. When you got so little, you really look at it.

I propose that the Malaysian Government make it a motherfucking LAW that 10% of telephone operators for major companies that make billion-kajillions of dollars a year to be staffed by blind people.

And start retraining them to do this shit rather than weave baskets or play an electronic rendition of bullshit on the streets.

It would take them off the streets and get them proper jobs.

I mean, those annoying telemarketers, they should ALL be blind. I fucking hate telemarketers.

Language is also another bullshit this country has to deal with.

Some Chinese and Indian Malaysians are making so much noise aboot the Sekolah Kebangsaan thing.

Why? Because, not just the matter of preserving one's ethnic heritage. It is also aboot money. Chinese or Tamil-speaking people will buy and read Chinese and Tamil-language newspapers.

They can also find jobs as language teachers. It is an economic cycle that benefits Malaysians, so why destroy it?

And the Government is so gung-ho aboot English as a medium for science and technology.

Meanwhile, in the papers, you can normally see job advertisements requiring Mandarin as a requirement. For some, it's because they do business in China, Hong Kong or Singapore. As for others, I'm not sure why. Maybe it would put the rest of the staff at ease?

Who gives a shit?

The recent drive by the Government to make Tamil and Mandarin as elective subjects is cool, but the next step would be to make it compulsory for you to pass the language subjects - Bahasa Malaysia, English, Tamil or Mandarin - in order you to graduate.

Perhaps also make it compulsory for ALL civil servants, Ministers or whoever the fuck to be AT LEAST bilingual.

I mean, for God's sake, we're in fucking multi-cultural Malaysia. How can you be in this country if you at least do not understand a smattering of Bahasa Malaysia and a few words from the others.

Anta valakerreng, kerekke.

This way, everyone wins.

The Chinese and Tamil newspapers gets a more varied readership, the people are more educated, the 'heritage' of these languages are preserved, and Malaysians of ALL ethnicity can apply for jobs previously reserved for a certain race of people.

And, we can open up the Chinese and Indian markets.

The only drawback would be the loss of translators and subtitlers as their services will no longer be needed. But they can always apply for UN work, which pays RM20,000 a month, TAX-FREE.

Talking about China and India, one prominent filmmaker made a documentary recently (and by recently, I meant 2-3 years ago) about the growing Indian economy. In India.

She was more interested in India because, unlike China, there is no starvation in India. For a nation of over 1 billion people, with no proper sanitation in a lot of areas and low income for a majority of the population, no person in India will die of starvation. Unlike China, which on the flip side has the fastest growing economy on the planet.

One of the reasons for this is their good schemes backed by the Government.

My father have often told me, in his pragmatic way, that Communism is not evil.

"It is the BEST form of governance for managing large nations," he said.

This was in the 1980s. When Mikhail Gorbachev - the guy with Russia's map on his forehead - was still in power in the SOviet Union.

My father's reasoning come from his belief that if there are too many people and too much land to cover, elections would be a fucking nightmare.

How can you accomodate the voices of EVERYONE, even if you have enough money, when the amount of time is still the same.

Now, we know better. Or do we?

Anyway, back to India. There are two programmes in Inda which I think might work here:

1. A giant-assed cooperative
2. Focus on the women and women's economy

India has THE LARGEST cooperative in the world. It is a cooperative to collect milk and sell them.

The rationale behind this is simple - most Indian families, in India, no matter how poor, would have a cow or two that would produce milk. Every single day.

Let's say, for simplicity's sake, that each family is 4 people. Each family has a cow. Each cow produces 2 litres of milk everyday - one litre for self-consumption, and the other litre to be sold.

Now, if India has a population of exactly 1 billion, that would mean 250 million families. 250 million cows. Producing 500 million litres of milk. EVERY DAY. No, not EVERYDAY, Every Day. The phrase, not the brand.

After consumption, that's 250 million litres of milk, 7.5 billion litres of milk every month. That's a whole lotta cheese, broseph! To be taken advantage of by unscrupulous middle-men.

Not any more! This giant-assed cooperative now handles the collection and distribution fo excess milk, eliminating the middle men altogether. ALl profits go back to members of the cooprative - Indian citizens.

It's a beautiful idea. If only there were no corruption. In India.

ANyway, the second one on the list is women's economy.

In a drive to improve the financial status of Indian women one Government-backed agency went to villages and set up loan centres. For women to get loans and start businesses.

At first, not many came forward. The policy-makers were curious, so they interviewed the women.

Why don't you go for the loans we set up for you?

The answer? The loans being offered are too big.

These poor Indian women only wanted to borrow small amounts like 20 dollars and pay the week after.


Because the businesses they do, the trade these Indian women are involved with, are small. Small capital (very small), small returns, but VERY FAST turnover.

So the Government agency changed their loan structures and began giving out smaller loans, for smaller lengths of time. It has been working ever since.

Now, the reason we should focus on women's economy, is simply because women, like it or not, be you chauvinist or Femi-Nazi, are the ones most directly responsible for family building.

All the leaders and scientists and artists and thinkers of the future are now sucking on the nipples of their mothers.

Men have nipples too, but only prostitutes suck them.

If these kids can get a better environment growing up, have access to better education, better food, there will be an increase to quality of life in a few generations' time. Because they will make it so.

In Malaysia, if you go to the Pasar Besars and whathaveyou, a LOT of the traders are women. Doing small businesses like selling keropok, cancer-causing cordial drinks, farm produce, songkoks, cloth, Pork rice dumplings, pirated DVDs, etc.

Helping them out - as I have seen and read of what and how SOME ministries are doing and NOT doing - would be beneficial to all.

There was this thing I read - one Government agency spent millions for cronies to come up with vans and motorcycles for women to do their food business. They got these vans equipped with cooking appliances and motorcycles that can carry hundreds of packets of Nasi Lemak and banana fritters. Nur Catering or something like that.

I read it, and I was ready to buy some nasi lemak. Cholesterol levels be damned.

So I waited. That week, it was probably too early. The month after, maybe in some areas only?

Now, today, several YEARS later, what the fuck happened to that project? Have the ministry lost heart? Was the project poorly-conceived? Poorly-maintained? What?

I think an area they should focus on would be the Kelantan makciks. Those are expert traders, taught for generations on how to turn profit. How to take the simple, humble cucumber or kangkong and long beans, and turn them to gold bracelets and gold teeth - perfect for a snatch-thief or a snatch-dentist to rob. Which is another economic circle/cycle to observe.

Vegetable to gold. Take that, alchemy!

These are the nation's poor. These are the nation's uneducated - most of them anyway. I do meet a PhD holder who sells baju raya, imported from China, every Ramadan. They can't or won't get a 'normal' job.

ANd they breed like rabbits.

If we don't do something to improve THEIR quality of life, Malaysia is doomed, because these are the people who are raising future Malaysia. These are the people who will give birth to idiots your UK-educated sons and daughters will be yelling at in the future. These are the mothers of people who will drive the lorries that take your children's product, which they painfully marketed by sucking on the white men's asses, to Port Klang.

These are the people who will breed the next generation of the face of the Malaysian sevice industry. AT least on the pamphlets, you can always employ eurasians. When the whiteys come here for real, they will be served cocktails by a Minah or an Abu.

These are the people who will raise your children, when you're too busy screwing your gardener or your secretary. They will cook your meals, your grandchildren's meals. For the luckier ones, they are the ones who will be teaching your children and grandchildren their ABCs and HTTPs and Snoop D-O-Double Gs.

Cause when the Indonesians go back to their country - because of the recent agrarian boom or because of too many atrocities against them here - these are the people you will turn to. From fixing your cars to your toilet bowl.

Everything and everyone is connected.

In order for a nation, any nation, to grow, you must have a solid foundation. That foundation, even though I REALLY, REALLY HATE to say it, is family.

And the foundation of the family are the women. The mothers and the sisters.

Look at my family. If it weren't for my mother and my sisters, I think my brother, my father and myself would just go our own separate ways.

Cause we don't care, foo! We're too cool for school. And for most men, sadly, that IS their credo.

Man of Tomorrow

Some people say that I am very unhappy with some of the things that is going on in the world and in Malaysia because I do not live in the moment. Because I live only in the future. Of what will be, instead of what is.

I say, I am pissed off with the idiots. And pretentious people.

Fortunately, the future is not powered by idiots, victims or pretentious people. The future, a billion-kajillion tomorrows, is powered by an almost invisible but definitely present compulsion of the universe. An almost inertia-ic force, if there is such a word, that would force change.

And what is change if not destruction, and I am the Lord of Destruction.

Already, scientists and unreasonable people are creating microchips from protein. From meat. The rationale being that for all of man's silicon and semi-conductor wizardry and lens technology, the greatest camera ever is the human eye, and the best computer is still the human brain.

Imagine computers in the speed of meat. Imagine quasi-organic laptops that latch onto your back like a pet. Imagine 'driving' a giant cyborg crab to work. A crab you only need to feed garbage to, as fuel. A giant cyborg crab that shits fertilizer on...asphalt roads? What the fuck is asphalt? There will be no roads in the future.

And when you're hungry, crabmeat is fucking fantastic.

Boss: Hey, Amir, you're early today. How'd you beat the jam?

Me: Oh, I took a crab.


There are also data storage in crystals. Our pen-drives and hard-drives of the future will be made of crystals. Storing yottabytes (1000^8) of data.

Maybe, there will be crystal implants to our brains, in the future. Accessing the data we stored since birth using quasi-organic computers routed, implanted, directly to our brains.

So the next time Angelina Jolie adopts an African child, she can instatly download Swahili into her brain, to understand the child as soon as it learns to talk - at around 20 days old.

The future of language is also interesting. When everyone can simply plug into decades worth of language training by just replacing their crystal head-cartridges. Maybe there will be a movement to create a universal language.

It's form?


Const: pi=3.142;
Var: a;
array: b, c;


a = pi;



Print(b "Can I have some pie?");

Print(c "Here: "a);

Print(b "LOL");


Idiot: Can I have some pie?

Idiot2: Here: 3.142

Idiot2: LOL

Right now, today, scientists are charting human brain-wave patterns. Every thought has a frequency and it will only take a few generations to decode at least some of them.

This could result in a new form of entertainment, communication and propaganda - mood advertisements, emotional-newspapers and would redefine the term hate-mail.

The TV will be able to emote feelings of happiness. Politicians will be able to go round in their stupid vans, broadcasting the emotions they WANT you to feel.

Places of work, airports and schools might have, instead of a metal detector, an emotion or thought detector, just in case you're a terrorist.

Also being decoded: the human genome.

By 2015, Malaysia will not only run out of oil. The world could be seeing the brith of the LAST blonde-blue-eyed person on earth.

In the future, EVERYONE looks Malay, based on a Time Magazine image composite a few years back.

Malay, or Mexican. Who cares?

But by decoding the human DNA, we can preserve the almost extinct blonde-blue-eyed people and keep them safe in zoos, following a proper breeding programme.

It would be the brown-man's burden. All of us, cause we will ALL be brown.

Space travel will be possible, but humans of the future, at least the spacefarers, will have to have at least 5% cockroach DNA.

Cockroaches have a gene that allows them to survive in radioactive places. Space is one of them. When you are in space, a billion-kajillion invisible cosmic radiation passes through you. Without the protective barrier of the Earth's atmosphere, so many astronauts return to earth bearing some kind of sickness and mutation caused by this radiation.

Only by combining our genes with cockroaches' will humanity survive. Because we NEED to find another planet like earth. SOON.

Resources are dwindling down and people are too fucking stubborn to change their ways or leave their cronies behind.

The end result will be a dying planet. Well before the Sun, our Sun, Sol, becomes a Red Giant and consume us whole in its fiery embrace.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Semusim di Syurga: Kaget Pahang

Melenggang hai
Melenggang dengan tari lenggang
Kalau baik hati
Nanti orang pun sayang

Melenggang hai
Melenggang dengan tari lenggang
Kalau busuk hati
Puki ko pun busuk...ang.

Darilah Pahang
Ke negeri Melaka
Singgah di Low Yat, beliiiii barangan
Janganlah pura-pura baik semata
Orang yang kurang, ditindas jangan

Janganlah pura-pura baik semata
Orang yang kurang, ditindas jangan

Melenggang hai melenggang
Dengan tari lenggang
Kalau baik hati
Nanti orang pun sayang

Melenggang hai
Melenggang dengan tari lenggang
Kalau busuk hati
Puki ko pun busuk...ang.

Pukullah gendang
Hai kulit naga
Dalam hospital Tanjuuuung Rambutan
Toksahlah perasan malaikat di syurgaaaaa...
Kalau dalaman, macamlah setan.

Toksahlah perasan malaikat di syurgaaaaa...
Kalau dalaman, macamlah setan.

Melenggang hai melenggang
Dengan tari lenggang
Kalau baik hati
Nanti orang pun sayang

Melenggang hai
Melenggang dengan tari lenggang
Kalau busuk hati
Puki ko pun busuk...ang.

Negeri Pahang, aman sentosa
Kaya dengan pondan dan Ah Kua
Busuk di hati, hipokrit di muka
Mati nanti, jumpaaaa di neraka

Busuk di hati, hipokrit di muka
Mati nanti, jumpaaaa di neraka

Melenggang hai melenggang
Dengan tari lenggang
Kalau baik hati
Nanti orang pun sayang

Melenggang hai
Melenggang dengan tari lenggang
Kalau busuk hati
Puki ko pun busuk...ang.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Ye Olde Unconscious UN Post

I'm pimpin' the sailor, man!


I'm pimpin' the sailor, man!


And fights around the world! I mean, an foites 'roun the woyle!

Awite, 'uv! Wot we got ere is failure to cofornicate. You knows im. Cofornicate. S'fore 'alileo-wossname. Sed woyle woz roun'.

Aw, blimeymenutcrackersandpantaloons! Look at 'at! Izsa Chinese! Doin' kung pow!

Chinese: Who you calling Chinese? I am KOREANSZ! Do I look Chinese to you? And this is not kung fu! This is tae-kwan-do! I am KOREANSZ!

Ell, yousa looka Chinese t'me, saz that spaz 'Ave Chappelle. But you are Koreansz! The average Koreansz droives inna Hyundai and con eat him bodie wait in kimchi, which is pickled 'rangutan.

Koreansz: I do not eat. Rrrrrrrrram-bhutan! kimchi is made from daicon!

Japanese: Daicon is. Japanese word. For. White radish. Malays call it - robak.

Oy, Captain! The reactor's not gonna hold on much longer! She's gonna blow!

Patrick Stewart: From hell's heart, I stab thee! From hell's heart, I stab thee! From hell's heart, I stab thee! From hell's heart, I stab thee!

William Shatner: Why? Do you. Keep us locked up. Like animals. In a cage.

Jonathan Frakes: I have more hair on my chest than you do on your head, Patrick Stewart!

Levar Burton: Look, ma! I'm Cyclops, foo! Optic Blast! Optic Blast!

Hugh Jackman: You're blind, foo! Berserker Barrage! Berserker Barrage! Berserker Barrage!

John Travolta: Xenu shall destroy you! O, mighty Xenu! Please, help us! I beseech thee!

Xenu: Xenu phone hooooome!

Crikey! Wotfatlotogooddidme - AT last! MY arm is complete again!


Work, in the name of thy God, the most gracious, the most merciful.

Work, foo!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Secret Diarrhea of a Kal-El

You know what's good about diarrhea? When you wake up in the morning and your stomach is all full of gas and shit and you go to the toilet, the primum mobile, and you just let the crap out.

Then you make the face like Ewan Mcgregor ("a Mcgregor's seed in your daughter's belly! What'd you think of that, huh? Huh?") in Trainspotting. The worst toilet in Scotland scene.

What's bad about it is how weak you feel after a while. Maybe two-three hours just to get cracking again.

I get intermittent diarrhea. The occasional diarrhea. From the flu the last couple of weeks. And while there is no more fever, and my coughing has lessened, I still get diarrhea.

But no diarrhea is gonna stop me.

As I strive to fight for justice, truth, and the Thai way!

For All Mankind

You know what?

I'm sick of being a victim. Fuck you.

I am sick of victims being championed like heroes. Fuck off and die.

I am sick of how the whole country has become one large Who's the Biggest Victim reality gameshow.

Take your stupid games, shine it up real nice, turn that sumbitch sideways, and shove it up your asses!

I'm sick of learned helplessness. I am not a dog in a stupid experiment. I'm just a dogg, dawg.

I am sick of racists who call people 'racialists' - a word which doesn't exist. Even if it does, it is stupid.

I am sick of all races calling the other races racist. PRETENDING to not being racists. Fuck you. And go back to where you came from - your mama's fuck-hole.

I don't care who you are. Compliant Chinese? Towering Malays? Funky Indians? Tighty-whiteys? Peckerwoods? Nigras? Dan Lain-Lain?

Fuck you. I hate all things that denote a race. If you adhere to a racial identity, I hate you. Except for Thais.

I am sick of fax machines. I FUCKING HATE fax machines. Fax machines are stupid.

I am sick of Malaysians wandering around like depressed zombies.

I am sick of faggots destroying the country. If you're a nation-building faggot, or a good faggot, you're okay. The rest of you, SUCK MY DICK. Figuratively, of course.

But you know what? Despite all the shitty people and the shitty things they do, I have quite a positive outlook on the future.

I may not have faith in many things, but I have faith in the future. I am the Man of Tomorrow. And only I have the power over what tomorrow brings.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Exodus: The Malaysian Nightmare

Tonight, I celebrate Sunder Raj - a Knight of Bukkake - who has achieved the NEW Malaysian Dream: getting the fuck out of the country.

Sunder is a comics artist. One of the few Malaysian comics artist who actually do comics and not one of those who, instead of improving their art, log on to comics forums whining and bitching about how people don't appreciate their art and trying very hard to be pseudo-intellectual about it - probably hoping to con, I mean teach, graphic students at some overpriced private college sometime in the future. Or borrow money from people and not paying them back. Like Milx.

I took Sunder to a place where they sell cheap booze and okay food. We watched the Olympics opening ceremony and I yelled support for Thailand's contingent.

Wouldn't it be weird if an Islamic country won and then there would be text on the screen, saying: TERRORISTS WIN!

So I axed him: Why do YOU want to leave?

Sunder: Because here, you can tell people whatever you want and they will believe you.

Me: And that's bad?

S: Yeah, that's bad. Look, I was in Flint, Michigan and I was respected for my work and for who I am.

And he went on and on about Flint, forgetting my initial question.

I think what he meant was that over here, people don't really appreciate talent and just accepts things and people at face value.

It is not uncommon for those leaving this country for other places to be disillusioned with how 'pretentious' and 'fake' everything is here. Everything is skin-deep. Though we maintain a delusion that everything has meaning. That everything is okay.

At least, that's what most of the people whom I know and are leaving or left think. Based on my conversations with them. It's just an opinion. Don't let other people's thoughts destroy your faith in the country.

Idiot: Oooohhh! Other people's thoughts! They're different than mine! I have to backstab. NOW! Full-on denial mode!

Kembaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang cipap aku mendengarnya.

Another couple is also leaving. They got their visa last week or something.

Friend: Amir, as soon as you get your first half-chance, LEAVE! LEAVE! LEAVE!

Friend2: This country is FUCKED UP! FUCKED!

It would be easy to say, "Good riddance to bad garbage." or "We don't need you, anyway, nyee!"


"I'm not going to PRETEND to stop you as you THREATEN to leave like a small child."

Oh well. Some people judge other people by looking at themselves. Meaning that If they were going to do so, then other people would as well.

What to do? I don't speak monkey.

As for me, I'm giving this country one last go. For the road. For old time's sake. For whatever.

It is not a childish threat. It is simply me finally deciding, like Morpheus the King of Dreams, that I have to either change or die. And finding out that there is a third alternative, like in Lucifer by Mike Carey.

Gordian knot, yo!

For I, too, dream the Malaysian dream.

Anyway, as for Sunder, I wish that he finds what he is looking for. Maybe a new dream. Somewhere.

A Game of You

One of people's favourite games is the Victim Game.

Bloody motherfucking Victim Game. You've played it. I've played it. Everybody's fucking played it. The difference is in degrees. And frequency. Some people are addicted and can't even see it. But it's there, and you keep on doing it.

"I'm so fucking oppressed, boo hoo hoo."

"People tried to screw me and make me look bad. Boo hoo hoo."

Poor you. WHy don't you fuck off and kill yourself already? Do us all a favour.

"The country's bad. Boo fucking hoo."

If the country's bad, you have one of four options:

1. Destroy the country.
2. Change the country.
3. Leave the country.
4. Shut the fuck up (in public) and moannnnn...moaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnn...moooan.

Take one of the first three and run with it.

The secret is: No one gives a shit.

No one gives a shit about you. No one gives a shit about your father. No one gives a shit about your mother.

I don't give a shit. Your family doesn't give a shit cause they're too busy breeding. Kay-Jay doesn't give a shit. The PM doesn't give a shit. Anwar doesn't give a shit. The hairs on Anwar's ass don't give a shit. God doesn't give a shit about you.

And finally, you actually don't give a shit. You only care about yourself anyway. Not other people. Stop pretending this noble bullshit.


Friday, August 8, 2008

Faces of Fantasy

And so Death said to me, tonight, "I hate it when there's all this bullshit with you."


"I feel that whenever we talk, there's always a wall. That you've erected defenses. The bullshit."

"Ah, you mean, the image."

So I told her.

"I am the most arrogant motherfucker ever. I look down on everyone. I believe that human minds are not strong enough to experience me. Therefore, as a favour to mankind, I process myself and present to them, a face, a side which they can understand.

Because humans only think of themselves. They can only understand one facet of humanity at a time. They can only think in boxes.

So I get into a box, labelled properly, and I give myself to them. For them to suck my dick.

For if people knew what and who I am, they will kill me. Some, after knowing me, went mad."

Neil Gaiman once wrote, in the book Faces of Fantasy, "These are not our faces. Blahblahblah."

He was writing about how when people meet writers, they always say, "I thought you'd be taller" or older, or wiser.

Neil Gaiman also said, through his characterisation of Erasmus Fry in the Great Work Sandman's Calliope, that "Writers are liars, my dear."

It is the ego of the writer. The righteousness.

We are always bigger from inside our heads. Gaiman again. Delirium. In The Kindly Ones. I think.

Writers understand the nature of truth. That truth is malleable, that it depends primarily on perception. Quantum physics, yadda yadda yadda.

It is not because I think I'm special. Everyone are just that - facets. Not faces. Facets. And no one, not a single person, has enough time on earth to understand each and every side, each and every angle.

I do not believe in good or evil people. Just people. Being stupid. Playing games.

I used to pity them. I don't anymore. Because it is a waste of my time. Time I should be spending thinking about myself.

So I did the most economical thing. I take everyone, put them in a large box and label them all as IDIOTS IN DENIAL. Who deserve a nuclear holocaust.

And shelve them somewhere. And went merrily on my way.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Semusim di Syurga: Menyusuri Misteri Mexico

Aku masih mengalami cirit-birit ringan. Aku terpaksa bangun dari percubaan aku untuk tidur dan duduk di primum mobile. Sambil duduk di sana, aku terkenangkan perbualan yang pernah aku dengari. Dan kadang-kadang sertai.

Bodoh: Ko tau?

Aku: Kembaaaaaaang-

B: Apadia?

Aku: Takde apa-apa. Apa yang aku tau?

B: Aku suka makan makanan Sepanyol.

Aku: Kembaaaaaaaang-

B: Aku suka makan Fas-Jees-Tas.

Aku: Oh?

B: Ye, pasal aku feeling-feeling ala-ala Sepanyol.

Aku: Yeke? Aku pun. Aku suka makan Vas-Gees-Nas.

B: Kat mana ko selalu makan? Tak nampak pun kat SATU-SATUNYA RESTORAN MAKANAN SEPANYOL KAT MALAYSIA?

Aku: Pasal ko bodoh. Aku makan Vas-Gees-Nas kat Siam je.

B: Oooh. AKu bodoh rupanya. Best ke kat Siam? Murah ke Vas-Gees-Nas kat sana?

Aku: Murah jugak la. Ada la dalam 150 untuk Vas-Gees-Nas berkualiti.

B: Wah! Gila mahal. Fas-Jees-Tas aku dalam RM20 je.

Aku: Malaysia lagi mahal. Dalam RM300. Tapi kalau ko pergi Brickfields, dan kalau kau sanggup (aku tak sanggup) ada la dalam RM30 untuk Vas-Gees-Nas. Kalau kat Petaling Street, RM6.

B: Ha? RM6?

Aku: Ha-ah. Mamat angkut guni masuk lori je sanggup makan Vas-Gees-Nas kat situ. Sebab tu jual murah.

B: Ooo.

AKu: Ko suka makanan Arab?

B: Suka jugak.

Aku: Kat Phuket, ada hidangan ni - Al-Farajun Ghunnah.

B: Amende tu?

Aku: Dia ada berdengung sikit.


Aku: ...

B: Ko tipu aku, eeeeeeee?


Debating Techniques: The Perfect Response

Fuck Eckhart Tolle and his 'Is that so?' bullshit.

The best retort, the best response for anything and everything people throw your way is: KEMBAAAAAAAANG CIPAP AKU MENDENGARNYA.

Imagine this - Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim Vs Datuk Shabery Cheek

Shabery: When you were Finance Minister...



And yesterday, I was stopped by the Pole-lease.

Pole-lease: Saya saman ya, encik?

Me: Hmh.

P: Saya saman ni...



Me Vs Racist motherfuckers:

Racist: You are a racialist! Because you are a Malay!

Racist2: You!


Racist: ARGH! Cough blood oredi.

Racist 2: Nodus limfa akuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Me Vs Retard

Retard: Have you fucked the letter oredi?

Me: I'm...sorry?

R: Have you fucked the letter oredi?

Me: Fucked? Wut?

R:(points at fax machine) The fuck machine. Have you fucked it?

Me: ...

R: So, you fucked it?


Me Vs Random Dude

RD: I don't care about what people think about me.

Me: Kay.

RD: So what do you think of me?


Me Vs check-out counter girl.

COCG: Bang, boleh tak tunggu sekejap? Saya tak reti nak tukar gulung resit ni.


Alex Ferguson Vs Cristiano Ronaldo:

AF: You will NOT leave Manchester United for Real madrid, and that's final!


AF: Eh, yeke?


WARNING: Will not work on fags.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Raising Miss Daisy

These past few weeks, I have been telling a lot of people, especially Malays, the advantages of living in other countries.

If you live for 10 years in Australia, for example, they will put you on the dole. Means you get free money for being a loser.

Some countries in Europe give free education. If you're a family of 10, that's worth at least a million Euros or something like that. In other words, Lots of free money.

They don't understand why I would consider a move outside the country. And they can't understand why I would promote these countries to them.

Very simple, really, as for me, I believe that if I am not the best at what I do anywhere, I will have to go somewhere where I AM the best at what I do.

I don't think I am what's best for this country, and I don't think this country is best for me.

As for other people I've told this to, I believe that they are not the best thing for the country, and that's that.

People who would breed simply because it's a fad, without even thinking whether or not they could support the child.

I mean, to have a child, you must make sure that you will make more than a million disposable income within the next 20 years. That means RM4,166 a MONTH AT THE VERY LEAST savings ONLY.

THAT's responsibility. If you don't have access to that kind of money, you are being irresponsible. I don't care how happy your mother-in-law is. Fuck you. I don't care how fertile and SUCCESSFUL other people THINK you are.

I don't care about your IMAGE. Fuck you.

I'm just saying that if you CAN'T provide for your children, then don't have any.

I don't even think my parents should have had ME. They're not millionaires. They're not rich. If it weren't for the fact that I'm a crazy motherfucker, I'd be on the streets, selling handjobs for crack.

Parents, they set their children up for failure since young.

And their grandparents, too.

I see old folks, telling young kids, ages 2-12:

Old Fart: Kesiannya! (Poor widdle bullshit!)

And then stuff their faces full of chocolate and ice-cream. Ram that candy bar down the kids' throats! Ram it!


Congratulations! Not only have you SUCCESSFULLY raised a whole generation of victim-wannabes, you're giving them diabetes and heart disease as well.

Way to go Malaysia!

By saying 'Kesiannya' over and over again to the little assholes, you're telling them that to get attention and more candy, you HAVE to play the victim game.

These kids grow up to be attention-seeking victim-wannabes who all say, "Poor me! Pity me! I'm in PAIN! Woe is ME! Boo hoo hoo!"

Fuck you.

The only person who can victimize you is yourself. Stop it with the blame game bullshit.

If you get raped, rape that motherfucking rapist back. WIth a cucumber. That has studs on it.

You hate where you are? Bomb the place or fucking leave.

You hate people? Start killing. You a pedophile? Go kill yourself. We need all the help we can get.

You know about learned helplessness?

These behavioral scientists did this experiment on dogs, see?

Batch A Dogs: An electrical current is passed on the floor. All the dogs have to do is solve a complex mathematical equation and get out of there.

Batch B Dogs: An electrical current is passed on the floor. All the dogs have to do is prove God exists using the Pythagoras theorem and get out of there.

Batch C: Just chillin'.

So when the juice flowed, Batch A solved the Intergration equation in 10 seconds and left.

Batch B tried to argue their case, but found that it's subjective and since the scientists are all atheist motherfuckers, can't be convinced on the existence of God. Nothing they could do would stop them from being electrocuted.

Batch C started masturbating.

The shocks were administered randomly and Batch A could always stop it by doing something. It didn't matter what Batch B did. They're ALWAYS wrong.

Batch C started asking for porn.

After a while, the doors were opened or something like that. So Batch A, as soon as the shocks started, left immediately.

Batch B stayed there, whimpering, giving up and resigning to the fact that they do not control their destiny at all.

Batch C rushed one of the scientists and suicide-bombed him.

Batch B is pathetic. Batch B is you.

You have learned this helplessness all your life.

You are helpless. There is nothing you can do. Blah blah blah.

There is ALWAYS something you can do. Eat a doughnut. Eat a baby. Suck dick. Whatever.

Pansy-assed motherfuckers.

Just relax, think of a way, and follow through. No matter what the consequences are, tomorrow's shit would be different than today's.

I mean, yesterday, it was a floater. Today, I can see some grain in it or something.

Sunday, August 3, 2008


So today, I woke wayyyy early on a Saturday morning to get my phone fixed. I can't hear people, and people can't hear me using that stupid shit ass piece of junk.

So anyway, I went to SUnway cause Cheepork was going to SUnway Pyramid and I don't have a ride.

So I went there and approached the first mobile phone shop I saw. The guy said that it would cost me RM140 to get it fixed and around 4 hours cause he doesn't have the parts and shit.

I told him to fuck off and went to a Nokia Care Center and they could do it in two hours at RM50.

So I had no phone, felt naked, so I went to get some waffles.

Now, when I don't have a phone with me, I feel free. I don't have to plan things to say to people if they sms or call me. It was freedom, and I was enjoying it, so I went to get some waffles.

I was sitting there, eating the stuff, when this new-found freedom gave me an epiphany and one question.

The epiphany: people play games.

The question: what do people talk about during sex?

Yeah, people play games. Most people are not inherently evil. They just play games. They need to role-play and be the victim, or be number one, or be respected or to get other people to like them, desire them, suck their twats or dicks and stuff like that.

So when people ask me, "how can people be so cruel?" I can say that most are not cruel. They're just caught up in their games. Doesn't pardon them of their crimes. Doesn't make it okay. Doesn't make it wrong. Doesn't make it right, either.

It's just - people play games.

They need to adopt a role and be that role. They need to go into a box and stay there. Cause otherwise, it's scary for them and it's scary for other people. People can't comprehend other people when it comes to more than one dimension.

They are unwilling to see the duality of man and the triplicality of man and the dodacahedronality of man. They refuse to acknowledge that because to think in that way will take computing time away from thinking about themselves and most people only think about themselves.

They will think of other people, but only in relation to themselves.

This information is actually completely useless. Like the Sex and the City movie. And for the record, I FUCKING HATE Carrie Bradshaw.

The other three, they're okay, even though Samantha is a woman's version of a superhero. She does what women want to do, talks the way they want to talk and she gets away with it. She's everything a woman wants to be. Samantha Jones is a man.

So anyway, the other question - what do people talk about during sex?

The state of the Thai agricultural sector? The rising price of oil? Gossip Girl? Lost theories? What?

Then, as I was contemplating these mysteries of the universe, I finished my waffles, went for a massage and got my phone back.