The Malay Male

Tales from the Drunk Side: The Quest for the Best Cut in the World

2012-01-27T01:47:00.003+08:00

Hey, primitives.

I went to Kuantan for Chinese New Year as my father's family celebrates the thing. I also had a hidden agenda which I made clear on the very first day I was there - I was going to buy and cook - all by myself - the tenderloin cut of beef, known to Malays as batang pinang.

The last time I tried this, I gave my sister and my mother money to buy the tenderloin, and all they got me was fucking brisket. Brisket is one of the toughest cuts and do you know who eats brisket? Fucking Jews, cause it's cheap.

I actually love a lot of Jewish cuisine, such as bagels and fish sticks, but when it comes to beef, fuck the Jews. Fuck brisket, fuck that weird fish dish, and fuck shorts - the Jews' ultimate invention to ensure Muslim Malays stray from their faith.

Anyway, to educate my family, and to stop them from being conned into buying brisket, I drew them a picture - a diagram - that looked like this:

See that? Tenderloin is that funny, conical cut between sirloin and top sirloin. But remember, this is the American cut. Some other cuts such as the British cut has no tenderloin.

The Dutch cut is similar to the American cut.

There are some BM sites - including the BM wikipedia - that got it wrong. Batang pinang is tenderloin, not fucking sirloin, not top sirloin, you fucking dumbass primitives.

Anyway, as you can see, the brisket is situated usually in the front of the cow, and as the cow's forelegs support most of its weight, the brisket is extremely tough. Briskets are usually cooked as stews or soups - any dish which requires slow cooking to tenderise the meat.

The tenderloin, meanwhile, is a special cut that is very, well, tender and used for stir fry or in steaks such as the filet mignon. Fuck ribeye or T-Bone, people who order ribeye or T-Bone are primitives and amateurs.

Ribeye and T-Bone are prized simply because of the marbling - the amount of fat it contains. The tenderloin is prized for its texture. As I have no intention of having a heart attack, I love the tenderloin cut.

So, after explaining the theory to my family, I got them to drive me to the Pasar Tani Kuantan. The first butcher stand I went to said they do not have 'batang pinang' and tried to offer me their 'most tender' cut - the fucking American brisket.

I walked off in a huff and found a stall that had two python-like almost-cylindrical cuts of the tenderloin, selling at RM23 a kilo. In comparison, the brisket is RM20. So fuck it, tenderloin all the way, baby!

This is fresh local meat, mind you. If I bought frozen Indian beef, the price would be cheaper by 8 bucks, but the Indian cut follows the British cut, so they have no tenderloin. Their best is sirloin, but my father always end up buying topside, which is the cow's butt. I'm not eating cow's butt, so fuck it.

I bought two kilos of tenderloin and rushed home. Local tenderloin is encased in an annoying layer of marbling - fat - and arteries, so I painstakingly cut all of that away, ripping away the arteries with my hands.

I cooked the beef twice in two days - two types of dishes. One is the traditional tumeric and salt, with me finally learning my family's secret recipe. The other is daging masak merah - beef cooked with premium chilli powder and lemongrass and stuff, also a secret family recipe.

The result? Two of the best beef dishes ever. EVER!

While I have already mastered the use of meat tenderisers (the best being jackfruit tree leaves), the tenderloin cut needs no tenderising! The skipping of the tenderising boil step means that the beef flavour is more intense. I have also mastered the art of including the boiling stage into the cooking stage, meaning I end up with meat that has lost some of its collagen, forming a thick beef stew that encapsulates each and every slice.

Fuck briskets, man. Batang pinang is the best in the world!

How to recognise batang pinang - it looks like a snake. A giant snake, cylindrical in shape. It is the most tender cut of all. Next time you go to a steak restaurant, ask for a filet mignon and taste the wonders of the tenderloin.

Or fucking go to a local butcher shop and buy a few kilos. The Australian beef sells it for RM39.90 per kilo, and I would usually skip this cut for the more cost-effective top sirloin Aussie beef, at RM29.90 per kilo. The local beef at RM23 per kilo for - fucking tenderloin - is a steal!

Being Civil

2012-01-25T20:44:00.002+08:00

Towards the end of the working day today, I had a headache. I am thinking about my parents.

My father was a teacher. A Government civil servant. Surprisingly, he is not rolling in cash as some of the Opposition and idiots make out civil servants to be. And even as a teacher, he took very few off days. Even on leave, the old man used to go to school and cut grass, paint the school building and did other things.

See, my father was born in 1941. He was constantly living in the homes of relatives and good samaritans. It was a tough life, and having a home of his own is something he valued so much.

His starting salary was RM222, ending at RM445 for his payscale. His work lasted well into the night, alternating blue and red Pilot pens to mark students' work.

He retired with no insurance, a few hundred ringgit a month in pension, and a whole lot of pride in his work.

In 1981, doctors told him he was going to die. Here he is, 30 years later, very much alive - last time I checked.

My mother is 64 years old. She used to sell stuff to make her own money. Kuihs, junk food, rattan weavings - she used to take orders for clothing.

Two old people, repeating the stories of their own fathers and mothers.

"I have so many stories that I could tell you," said my father, his eyes glazed. Stories I have heard before. Communists killing people. The back stories of thousands of individuals.

My parents are staunch, loyal supporters of the BN Government, from a time when being an UMNO politician actually meant something. And yes, I can't deny that civil servant pay - meagre as it was and still is - paid for my food, clothing, put a roof over my head, and gave me an education. It is an education I still do not trust, but there it is - an education.

I hear people and I read their writing, convinced that civil servants earn a lot of money for not doing work, and I just rub my chin. While it is true in some cases, the plight of most of them and the poor - they rely heavily on the civil service.

Most civil servants will end up like my father - low pensions in an ever-inflating economy. Getting first-stage cancer means a few hundred thousand nowadays. Complications from diabetes, high-blood pressure, various forms of heart disease will deplete any kind of savings from anyone who are not millionaires when they retire, within a handful of years. And most of these people, do not have insurance.

My parents are from the Silent Generation. When the Baby Boomers start to hit 60 or 70, medical expenditure will go through the roof. It is the Gen-Xers and Millenials who will bear the brunt of the cost, our tax dollars spent on medications and procedures.

I suggest we get rid of the problem - a systematic culling of the Baby Boomers. We kill Baby Boomers, ensuring more resources for all. A true Malthusian solution.

Melayu Boleh: Tribut Kisah-kisah Agung Percintaan

2012-01-19T01:10:00.002+08:00

Setelah membaca karya saudara Pipiyapong, saya berasa terpanggil untuk juga menukil satu tribut kepada genre kisah-kisah agung percintaan yang sering saya baca ketika muda.

Tajuk: Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar

Bunyi cip-cap, cip-cap kedengaran di dalam bilik, sebelum aku dan Temah sempat membuka pintu. Dengan hati yang berdebar-debar, aku meramas tombol pintu. Aku main punat kuncinya, kemudian, aku buka. Luas.

Rupa-rupanya, ada banyak burung dalam bilik tersebut. Patutlah bunyi cip-cap, cip-cap kedengaran tadi.

Temah menggenggam erat tangan aku, sampai berdarah, memberitahu aku yang dia sudah tidak sabar. Temah terus membuat beberapa balik kuang di udara, menghalau semua burung keluar dari bilik.

Aku pun, menghunuskan pedang Mochitsuki (Pedang Kuih Bulan) dan berlari-lari anak keliling bilik sambil mengamalkan jurus-jurus pedang sekolah Kunlun dan Jurus Naga Mengejar Matahari ciptaan Raja Utara. Keadaan tidak ubah seperti mencit seekor, menggada seratus.

Selepas berjaya menghambat semua burung keluar dari bilik, aku dan Temah terduduk atas katil dengan nafas tidak keruan.

Aku mengatur kembali kuasa dalaman, lantas aku terasa ada tangan halus Temah memindahkan tenaga dalaman menerusi belakang aku. Terus aku memuntahkan darah beku dan membuat beberapa balik kuang di udara untuk memastikan aliran tenaga dalaman aku sudah lancar.

Aku pun memindahkan tenaga dalaman ke dalam badan Temah. Tangan aku dapat merasakan kehadiran coli Temah yang bersaiz 56GG, dengan sokongan dawai serta lapikan silikon, diperbuat dari kombinasi kapas dan nylon, menjadikan kain coli tersebut keras dan kenyal, tetapi panas.

Aku pasti, tetek Temah pasti panas, lebih-lebih lagi selepas aku mengaktifkan kuasa sarira naga yang aku curi daripada Tok Bulu Hijau.

"BLUERGGHHH!"

Temah termuntah darah beku.

Kemudian, dia juga membuat beberapa balik kuang di udara.

AKu asyik menyapu darah dari mulut aku apabila Temah mengaktifkan Hikmat Monyet Mencuri Buah Pic - Jurus Memecahkan Kelangkang dan mencengkam konek aku.

Aku terus terajang dia pakai Tendangan Larian Seribu Kuda dan aku pun follow-up dengan Tinju Maut Dunia Paus.

Temah membalas dengan Hikmat Alam Semesta Songsang sampai aku cirit-birit. Pertempuran tergendala sebentar sambil aku pergi ke tandas.

Sekembalinya aku dari tandas, Temah menyerang dengan 18 Cakar Penunduk Naga yang dipelajarinya daripada Kumpulan Pengemis. Aku terus mengaktifkan Hikmat Pedang ke-23 yang aku curi daripada Pedang Sakti.

Masa seolah-olah terhenti apabila aku menggunakan kesempatan itu untuk menanggalkan baju Temah. Ternyata, Temah bukanlah bersaiz 56GG. Dia membawa dua biji limau bali dalam colinya.

Ternyata, Hikmat Pedang ke-23 mengatasi kehebatan Hikmat Pedang Syurga, sebab Temah masih melayang-layang dalam keadaan tanpa seurat benang, secara slow-motion sambil aku memegang dua biji limau bali atas katil.

"Temah," aku bersuara. "Aku jolok limau bali ko ni, okay ke?"

"Kembaaaaaaaaang cipap aku mendengarnya," kata Temah.

Aku pun terus mengeluarkan pedang aku yang lagi satu, dan dengan tujuh lanjutan pedang saktiku, aku lantas membenamkan konekku ke dalam limau bali yang digunakan Temah untuk menyamar sebagai gadis berdada besar, sampai ke pagi.

Sekian

Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar

Mari Belajar Bahasa Rempit!

2012-01-18T17:38:00.002+08:00

Rempit adalah sejenis spesis berukera yang sukakan motor dan bergerak dalam kumpulan, sebab takutkan haiwan pemangsa seperti polis, polis trafik dan juga manusia yang mahukan habitat mereka untuk aktiviti riadah.

Rempit bukan bergenus Homo seperti manusia (Homo Sapien), tetapi seperti spesis chimpanzi (Pan Paniscus), menurut genus Pan. Nama Latin untuk rempit adalah Pan Rempitus Mobilus Motorcyclus Kreeengg Kreeengg Minor. Setelah diuji di makmal, ternyata spesis rempit kalah dengan chimpanzi dari segi skil kognitif dan memori.

Rempit juga punya bahasa sendiri. Artikel ini bertujuan memahami bahasa mereka.

Pertama sekali, untuk menjadi rempit, semua mestilah ada masalah dyslexia. Kalau mahu mengeja perkataan 'jamban', akan dieja 'ajmabn', kemudian, secara rawak, hilangkan beberapa huruf tanpa alasan, menjadi 'ajbn' atau 'jma'.

Sesetengah perkataan dan frasa juga akan dipendekkan, kemudian dipanjangkan semula menggunakan algoritma misteri.

Contoh: frasa "dia hendak memikat rempit betina itu lah itu!" akan disingkatkan menjadi, "dya nk tklc awqs 2 le 2" dan kemudian dipanjangkan menjadi, "dyer 2 nk takcle aweqs 2 letewww."

Ada ahli biologi yang berpendapat, rempit bukan penghidap sakit dyslexia, tetapi sebenarnya menghasilkan kod supaya tidak diketahui pemangsa yang mereka mahu ke jamban atau memikat rempit betina. Kalau pemangsa tahu mereka hendak ke jamban, mereka akan dimangsakan. Kalau tahu ada rempit betina berdekatan, maka rempit jantan lain juga akan menyerang dan menyergah, membuatkan rempit yang rata-rata kurus keding menghadapi masalah untuk membiak.

Persoalan bagaimana seorang rempit boleh mengenalpasti maksud yang diniatkan terjawab apabila pengkaji bahasa dari Belanda, Marco Van Basten, mengemukakan teori dalam jurnalnya yang rempit mempunyai telepati dan kuasa ideo-motor yang tinggi. Ini mungkin disebabkan rempit terdedah kepada asap motor secara berlebihan, mengakibatkan mutasi.

Discovery Travel and Puking

2012-01-18T09:31:00.002+08:00

This is the second day I am back from Indonesia, and I am still unwell. Every time I eat something, I get sick. Something I ate in Jakarta or Bandung did not and does not agree with me.

My energy comes in short bursts, only to simmer down quickly when exposed to things like air conditioning or the like.

Bandung is described as a shopping haven, but after I have mastered discount shopping in Malaysia, I did not find anything great over there. For example, there are branded jeans in Bandung that you can buy for 60++ ringgit, but I am already buying Old Navy jeans in KL for RM25, at FOS. Or RM80 for jeans from Marks and Spencer at Gardens. Marks and Spencer - the Mydin of UK.

There are very cheap t-shirts, at RM8 each, but they do not have my size. The shops that do, charge extra. I bought one for RM20 because I had to get another t-shirt for the final day. Also bought two for RM30, but only after intense haggling from a very rude shopkeeper. I hate haggling and Bandung is haggling-heaven, which makes it hell for a shopper like me.

What is cheap are the cloth and stuff for weddings. Malay weddings. So, if you want to get married, go to Bandung and shop like crazy. Also cheap are children's clothing. If you are a breeder, Bandung is fantastic. I am neither, so the shopping experience was not so good.

I did buy some batik from Bandung for my entire family, though. Without haggling, I got the cloth for 20,000 rupiah per meter. That's like 6 ringgit.

However, the experience in Bandung is not one of comfort. First, the haggling. Second, the attitude. Indonesian shopkeepers are mostly rude and in your face. I found two who were polite and did not try to force their shit down my throat, so I bought a few hundred bucks worth of stuff from them. I only tried minimal haggling with them as that is the custom and as a result, they gave me a discount anyway, in the end. One shop in Bandung's Pasar Baru and another in Jakarta's Tanah Abang.

Third, are the fucking touts and street peddlers. They rush you like it's Piranha 3D. And if you don't buy shit or don't give them money, some of them get really, really angry. They will curse you on the spot and in your face.

I would not recommend Bandung to anyone other than families who can weather the storm of human bodies or people desperate to get married. Oh, and wedding planners will find Bandung a real haven to cut their costs down. Two people who went with us on the tour are mak andams and they bought 6 bags/sacks of stuff.

Overall, though, I did not find Indonesia to be a welcoming place. It's rough, dangerous and rude. That being said, I did meet some very friendly people who refused to take my money for anything. I believe that if I were not following a tour and was exploring the country on my own, I would have found more like-minded people.

I only saw one side of Indonesia completely this trip, and unfortunately it is the seedier, more desperate side.

And my stomach is still rebelling from the oily food. I need to go to the office clinic and get some meds, possibly an MC as I really don't want to be running to the toilet every half an hour while working.

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Belajar Bahasa Sunda dan Jawa

2012-01-18T00:28:00.002+08:00

Aku suka belajar bahasa orang tempat aku pergi. Kalau ke Thailand, aku teringin nak belajar Thai. Kalau ke Indon, aku dapati ada banyak jenis bahasa.

Pasal kat Indonesia, banyak kaum. Ada Betawi - Presiden Indonesia sekarang, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, orang Betawi. Ada Jawa, Batak, Bugis, Minang dan ada Sunda. Kebanyakan orang Bandung, orang Sunda. Sunda ni, dia ada falsafah enlightenment dia sendiri. Falsafah kesedaran Sunda iras-iras fahaman Hindu yang disulami falsafah Buddha.

Aku cuma tahu beberapa patah Bahasa Sunda:

Ci - maksudnya air. Banyak nama tempat, bermula dengan Ci. Cilaki (Air Laki-laki), Cikuda (Air Kuda), etc.

Walujiang - selamat. Walujiang enjing maksudnya selamat pagi.

Bahasa Jawa pulak, aku rasa ramai yang tahu:

koe: engkau

aku: aku

tersno: cinta

kokkorok: sama/dengan

rampong: sudah

iseng: berak

ti lem: tidur

susu: tetek

Jadi, kalau nak cakap, "selepas berak, aku cintakan tetek engkau", mesti disebut, "rampong iseng, aku tersno kokkorok susu koe."

Atau, "Aku sanggup tak tidur cintakan tetek kau" dalam bahasa Jawa adalah, "Aku doyan kagak ti lem tersno kokkorok susu koe."

Lebih kurang macam tu lah.

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Berak-berak Eastern Heretic

2012-01-17T23:42:00.003+08:00

Sekembalinya aku dari Jakarta-Bandung, aku mula sakit perut. Baru lepas Kentut Tidak Terbatas, baru lega sikit.

Sebelum ini, kalau aku ke Thailand, aku akan balik bertenaga dan dipenuhi Kuasa Kitaran Asura dengan Ketenangan dan Ketenteraman Abadi. Kalau dari Indonesia pula, aku dapat rasakan jurus Alam Semesta Songsang daripada Kitab Tung Fung Pak Pai.

Aku lepak dengan orang Indonesia di Bandung dan Jakarta. Yang friendly la. Ramai yang macam cipap je muka, kalau tak dibagi duit, tapi aku paham. Kehidupan diorang susah.

Ko tau, aku tengah tunggu bas depan Pasar Baru Bandung, kena serbu dengan berpuluh orang jual beg bentuk kasut dan keychain selipar. Tu belum kira pemuzik jalanan dan yang lain.

Unjukkan tenaga yang diorang buat adalah tenaga kesesakan. Unjuran minda kekacauan. Dan aku faham, semuanya pasal tak ada duit.

Aku lepak dengan brader jual air. Dia relaks je, lepak kat tangga. Aku beli air, minum sambil isap rokok atas tangga. Aku tanya pasal Ariel Peterpan kena penjara kat Bandung.

"Udah keluar, pak," katanya.

Aku: Ariel Peterpan udah keluar? Dia buat apa sekarang?

Bandungese: Katanya ingin ditubuh band baru.

Aku: Apa jadi Peterpan?

Bandungese: Udah berpecah.

Aku tanya pasal Ahmad Dhani kena ban pasal simbol zionis. Rupanya pasal pertelingkahan Ahmad Dhani dengan pertubuhan Islam di Indonesia.

Aku: Kamu bisa aku ngobrol Bahasa Inggeris atau Bahasa Indonesia palsu? Aku nggak bisa ngobrol Bahasa Indon, cuma Bahasa Malaysia yang beritma Indonesia.

Bandungese: Nggak apa-apa, pak. Saya paham.

Blablabla, dia tanya aku pasal Malaysia.

Bandungese: Malaysia, udah makmur ya, pak?

Aku: Mmm... masih banyak yang perlu dipertingkatkan. Masalah Malaysia bukan prasarana, bukan luaran, tetapi dalaman. Orangnya suka komplen, tapi nggak mahu buat apa-apa.

Bandungese: Tapi saya lihat orang Malaysia semua intelektual.

Aku: Mungkin pendidikan kami bisa melahirkan mereka yang kelihatan intelektual. Tapi itu luaran. Dalamannya, kami masih mentah. Masih bertelingkah. Mahu gaduh-gaduh. Seperti binatang.

Bandungese: Kok mengapa sih?

Aku: Sebab diapi-apikan orang kaya. Di Malaysia, ada isu perkauman. Pasal apa? Bukan pasal orang nggak cukup makan, tetapi pasal orang kaya-kaya mahu orang miskin sentiasa bertelingkahan, supaya senang diambil duit mereka. Bedanya di Malaysia, bukan warna kulit, tetapi warna duit. Persoalannya, berapa lama orang kaya boleh menipu orang miskin dengan retorik politik tidak telus.

Bandungese: Sama aja macam di Indonesia.

Aku: Mana-mana pun sama aja. Kita sama aja.

Mamat Bandung ni, baru kahwin 4 bulan lepas. Dia tinggal sama isterinya di satu apartment kos paling rendah. Sewa RM100 sebulan. Dia jual air, cuma dapat RM100 sebulan - cukup untuk sewa sahaja. Isterinya bekerja untuk dapatkan duit bagi makanan.

Makanan, tempat tinggal, pakaian. Semasa orang di negara lain bersusah-payah untuk memenuhi keperluan asas manusia, ada rakyat Malaysia yang hanya tahu komplen dan cakap Malaysia macam sial.

Ya, ada banyak benda boleh diperbaiki, tetapi, selagi kita tak perlu jual keychain selipar untuk membayar sewa RM100 sambil bini jadi pelacur untuk dapatkan makanan, elok-eloklah bersyukur dengan apa yang ada, sambil cuba memperbaiki apa yang kurang.

Kalau tak best sangat, boleh pindah ke negara yang lebih bagus. Ramai member aku dah pindah negara lain. Relaks je. Tak bising dah pun. Kalau bising, hanya untuk bagitau aku yang diorang buat pilihan tepat meninggalkan negara, satu perbuatan yang membuatkan aku bimbang kebahagian mereka di luar sana.

Bukan bersyukur pada kerajaan Barisan Nasional, ya? Tetapi bersyukur yang kita tak perlu jual sampah-sarap atau hidup dikelilingi sampah-sarap. Hargai apa yang ada. Secara spiritual, bukan politikal.

Dan sudah-sudahlah percayakan ahli politik tu semua. Diorang nak duit, bukan nak perjuangkan hak kau atau aku. Pergilah mampus semua ahli politik.

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Makan-Makan

2012-01-17T13:03:00.002+08:00

Empat hari tiga malam di Bandung dan Jakarta, aku makan dan minum sebanyak mana aku mampu.

Terus-terang aku cakap, makanan Indonesia tidak begitu sesuai dengan perut dan tekak aku. Kalau di Thailand, makanannya membuatkan aku segar dan bertenaga, makanan di Jakarta ada yang membuatkan aku berasa mual, lemah dan loya. Terutamanya, makanan Jawa.

Makanan Jawa yang aku makan, jenis ayam goreng yang berminyak.

Nasi padang masih antara hidangan paling aku suka, tetapi kesannya tidak baik untuk seorang pengembara sebab nasi padang membuatkan aku mengantuk.

Aku makan di tepi jalan, dan aku jumpa nasi uduk yang sebenarnya nasi lemak. Nasi yang dimasak dengan santan. Rasanya okay, tetapi ayamnya ayam yang amat berminyak.

Mujur aku mengikut tour, jadi makan biasanya di restoran-restoran. Kalau aku buat apa yang aku biasa buat di Thailand - makan di tepi jalan, pergi ke restoran murahan - nescaya aku akan sakit atau lembik sepanjang hari.

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Kisah Sangkuriang yang Gaul

2012-01-17T08:53:00.002+08:00

Bandung punya kisah dan lagenda sendiri. Yang paling masyhur dan aku ingat daripada pemandu pelancong adalah kisah Sangkuriang.

Pada mulanya, ada seorang dewi kayangan yang dihukum ke bumi sebagai seekor babi betina - Wayung. Wayung dahaga, kemudian pergi minum air kencing raja, lantas bunting. Babi betina itu melahirkan seorang manusia bernama Dayang Sumbi yang sangat cantik.

Dayang Sumbi entah macamana (pasal masa ni aku terlelap sekejap), duduk di istana, tetapi lebih sukakan kehidupan kampung. Jadi dia pindah ke kampung ditemani seekor anjing - Tumang.

Semasa di kampung, Dayang Sumbi ramai orang nak usha pasal dia lawa. Walaupun mak dia babi. Dayang Sumbi memutuskan untuk mencampak jarumnya dan sesiapa yang bawak balik jarumnya, dia akan kahwin.

Jarumnya dibawa oleh Tumang dan Dayang Sumbi - anak babi - harus kahwin sama anjing. Tumang pun sebenarnya seperti Wayung - juga indera kayangan yang disumpah menjadi anjing.

Apapun, Dayang Sumbi melahirkan Sangkuriang. Kemudian, dia minta Sangkuriang pergi memburu babi sebab ingin dimakan hatinya.

Sangkuriang dan Tumang ternampak Wayung dan Sangkuriang mengarah Tumang membunuh Wayung. Tumang tak mahu sebab anjing itu tahu babi tersebut adalah ibu mertuanya.

Lalu Sangkuriang yang tak tahu menahu neneknya babi dan bapaknya anjing, membunuh Tumang dan memberi hati Tumang untuk dimakan Dayang Sumbi.

Selepas Dayang Sumbi sedar yang suaminya, Tumang, dibunuh anaknya Sangkuriang, dia memukul kepala anaknya dan dihalau keluar.

Beberapa tahun kemudian, Sangkuriang kembali daripada kembara dan sudah jadi hero yang hebat. Dia terserempak ibunya - Dayang Sumbi - yang masih kelihatan cantik lalu pergi dating dengan mak sendiri.

Semasa tengah dating kat dalam hutan, Dayang Sumbi membelai kepala Sangkuriang. Nampak parutnya dan bertanya. "Engko ni Sangkuriang ke?"

Dah kantol yang Diorang anak beranak, tapi Sangkuriang masih nak kahwin dengan emak dia sendiri. Lalu Dayang Sumbi suruh Sangkuriang buat perahu dan beberapa perkara lagi macam sekat sungai la, apa la, sebelum ayam berkokok.

Sangkuriang power bab construction, jadi dia dah nak siap kerja-kerjanya, semangat habis pasal nak kahwin mak sendiri.

Dayang Sumbi pun sabotaj dengan membakar hutan dan menyebabkan ayam hutan berkokok sebelum masanya.

Sangkuriang bengang, lalu menyepak perahu sampai terbalik, jadi gunung Tangkuban Perahu. Hasil kerjanya yang lain maka jadi Bandung dan kawasan sekeliling.

Cerita ini biasa habis di sini, tapi kalau dengar versi orang Sunda, ada sambungannya.

Sangkuriang masih nak kahwin mak sendiri, lalu dikejarnya Dayang Sumbi masuk hutan. Dayang Sumbi bertukar jadi pokok jaksi dan Sangkuriang, frust, menghilang.

Sampai hari ini, kalau orang Sunda jumpa pokok jaksi dalam hutan, diorang ambik daun dia buat ubat kecantikan.

Begitulah kisah Sangkuriang.

Aku pergi tidur.

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting (Amir Hafizi ke Bandung-Jakarta)

2012-01-17T08:24:00.002+08:00

Aku sampai ke rumah semalam pukul 10 lebih. Malam. Masuk aje ke dalam apartment aku, terus seluar terlondeh, terhuyung-hayang ke PC, bukak PC, tengok monitor aku mampus, pastu pengsan atas katil.

Aku bangun pukul 7 pagi. Terus repair monitor. Monitor dah okay, tapi aku masih penat dan badan rasa sengal-sengal.

Empat hari tiga malam di Bandung-Jakarta. Aku pergi sebab kerja, bukan suka-suka. Tapi walau apapun, aku amat gembira sebab passport aku boleh pakai. PTPTN, selepas aku berunding dengan pihak diorang bulan tujuh tahun lepas, dah menarik balik sekatan untuk aku ke luar negara.

Aku tak perlu bayar semua pinjaman aku, cuma sebahagian, dan membuat Standing Instruction untuk membayar RM330 sebulan. Aku cadangkan sesiapa yang ada masalah dengan PTPTN boleh terus ke ibupejabat diorang di Wisma Chase Perdana.

Tak payah telefon, pasal orang yang jaga telefon tu serupa anjing menyalak. Aku tak jadi bayar PTPTN dulu pun, pasal menyampah dengan orang yang jaga telefon.

Aku: Hello, encik, saya nak bayar PTPTN.

Anjing: Kami tak mau terima! Kami nak bankrapkan awak! Kami nak sita semua harta benda awak!

AKu: Tapi, saya nak bayar.

Anjing: Ouk! Ouk-ouk! Ouk-ouk-ouk! Gong-gong-gong! Hiiii-hiiiiiiiiii!

Bila aku pergi ke Wisma Chase Perdana, yang ada di kaunter adalah manusia-manusia yang berperikemanusiaan dan boleh dibawa berbincang. Tak nampak seekor anjing pun.

Jadi, passport aku dah okay. Yay!

Di Bandung, aku pergi ke banyak tempat jugaklah. Toko Tiga, Rumah Mode, Pasar Baru. Secara ringkas, Pasar Baru adalah tempat terbaik untuk shopping beberapa benda. Juga tempat paling memenatkan dan membuatkan aku tak mahu ke mana-mana yang ramai orang, seperti Mekah.

Di Jakarta, Tanah Abang not bad. Aku akan tulis liputan perjalanan aku secara lengkap, tapi terlebih dulu, aku harus menulis artikel rasmi kerja aku.

Yang lain, aku akan tulis di sini.

Cuma satu saja aku nak ceritakan sekarang.

Masa di Tanah Abang, hari terakhir di sana, beberapa jam sebelum naik kapalterbang, aku lepak dengan pak guard Tanah Abang. Diorang minum air dari botol besar 4 gelen. Aku tanya, ni air apa?

Pak Guard: Ini air gunung blablabla. Minum air lain, jadi lembik. Yang ini, jadi kuat. Sudah dijampi.

Aku: Mintak segelas?

Lepas minum, aku tau itu hanya air paip dengan kuasa Hanuman. Sepanjang perjalanan balik, syaitan dalam diri aku bergelut dengan Hanuman dalam perut. Akibatnya, aku jadi penat.

Oklah. Aku nak sambung buat kerja.

The Watcher

2012-01-12T23:25:00.002+08:00

In a few hours, I will be flying off to Jakarta. It is for work, and I will be lugging a camera around - a video camera - for most part of the trip.

It's amazing that I can I actually get my hands on a camera and handle it for a very distinct purpose.

The goal is to make one or two videos and upload them for a project. I always work backwards. The goal are finished videos, so I would need to shoot a few types of footage to be cut into scenes later. Each scene is at most several seconds long for a fast cut result.

It can also be done by doing a long shoot and then piecing the footage separately. I do not know what I'm going to get, or if I will get anything, but several shots are inside my head.

The video head who - along with another colleague - showed me how to work the camera, suggested establishing shots of Jakarta itself.

I think it will go well with splices of Jakarta people with character, before we even see the tourists in the group - and finally the celebrity. After that, it would be shots of them doing activities, then short soundbites, maybe taken from a master interview later.

If this was a longer programme, I can perhaps set up segments, but that requires more energy and planning.

Oh well. We'll see what happens. This is the first time I am handling a mini-DV camera since 2007.

Kesejukan Sepandang Layang

2012-01-11T22:23:00.002+08:00

So far, my sojourn into writing in Bahasa Malaysia has been entertaining. You would not believe the kind of trouble I got into when I address a different audience.

I have been covering the Malaysian entertainment scene for years, but even though the primary language of that scene/industry is BM, I trained and was trained in English.

I have taken steps to explore more of the language, since I find that languages are always useful.

My BM novel is nowhere near completion, but I think it will be soon. I have several dictionaries now, which I purchased with the help of an ex-girlfriend who went to a book fair.

However, after spending months on BM, it is refreshing to go back to what I know best. This doesn't mean I will abandon BM anytime soon. In fact, I plan to continuously improve my understanding - dare I say mastery? - of the language.

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Kitab Masakan Tempur

2012-01-10T22:59:00.002+08:00

Ada kalanya, kita makan sebelum bertempur. Hidangan bertempur perlu menepati beberapa syarat:

1. Mesti tidak terlalu pedas, kelak hilang suara ketika bertempur.

2. Mesti tidak terlalu berminyak, kelak loya atau batuk semasa bertempur.

3. Mesti tidak membuatkan kita mengantuk semasa bertempur.

4. Mesti memberi tenaga dengan cepat, sebab pertempuran boleh berlaku bila-bila masa.

Oleh itu, masakan atau hidangan sebelum bertempur yang sesuai antaranya:

1. Ayam Goreng Kunyit Menunduk Naga

- Ayam yang dilumur kunyit dan sedikit garam sebelum digoreng. Pastikan minyak segar dipakai, sebab minyak yang dipanaskan kembali akan menyebabkan barah serta menjadikan ayam terlalu berminyak.

Suhu minyak mesti tinggi supaya senang menggoreng ayam. Kalau tak cukup tinggi, kelak ayam akan menyerap terlampau banyak minyak.

2. Roti Bakar Asura

- Roti bakar adalah pengganti nasi atau pulut yang boleh membuatkan pemakan mengantuk.

Sapuan pula mesti jem dan bukan mentega atau lepa susu. Gula dalam jem akan memastikan tenaga didapati dengan cepat.

3. Butterhead Lettuce Boddhisativa Pembuka Jalan

- Butterhead lettuce segar bugar dan menyegarkan ketika dikunyah. Memberikan kesan psikologi dan ideo-motor peringkat tinggi.

Jangan gunakan dressing melainkan cuka kayu balsam untuk mengelak rasa loya.

- Ditulis oleh Syaitan Pekerjaan.

Recess

2012-01-09T23:30:00.002+08:00

I am neither proud nor ashamed to be Malaysian. I believe that while there are many things that can be improved, I find this country adequate.

I have pushed the envelop of my industry, and others' far enough to know that things can be done, are being done or will be done soon.

When I was younger, my dream was to go to the States. I wanted to get that Petronas scholarship, use whatever means necessary and available to me, and leave the country forever.

That moment came. I was 16. Out of 12 candidates in my round of group interviews, I had their attention. It was Petronas or Telekom. I think it was Telekom. So, in front of a board of Telekom interviewers, I was there, sensing that this could change the course of my life.

Merely sensing, because I had no information I could use. There was hardly any briefing - just that some people from a big company wanted to see a bunch of us. They sat there, looking over our academic records. I knew mine wasn't spotless. I excelled in the languages and maths, but my chemistry scores sucked. So were my test results for physics and additional maths.

Long story short, everyone spoke in BM. I knew that if I wanted to impress these people, I needed to bring out my English and American accent, which I have gleaned from watching years of TV.

But everyone else spoke BM. And so I did too.

Yes, I did not get the scholarship I wanted, didn't leave the country - in fact, I have never left South East Asia. But if I did, I do not think I would be here right now. And I don't think I would have preferred another life. Not really.

It was 2003 and the system I built for a year was chosen for an IT convention in Portugal. I went to my lecturer's room to tell her that I was not going.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm going to be a writer," I told her.

She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and sent me on my way.

I worked as a cashier in a pharmacy for a few months, pissing off my boss because I spoke to Japanese customers in Japanese, and that I read books when there was nothing to be done.

I ate rice and fried eggs for six months, a downgrade from my halcyon days as a student when I ate roti canai.

Meanwhile, some of the smarter friends studied mechanical engineering in Germany or chemical engineering in the States. And fucking foreign chicks.

I was still here. I am still here.

I do not hate this country. I learned more about people and communication because the country is uniquely so. I have also worked with people from outside the region. White people, black people, and I have come to the conclusion that people are simply people. They are the same everywhere, with the same fuck-ups and fears.

People talk a great deal about systems. How America has the best system and values in the world. So much so, that when banks got the police to chase people out of their homes in the States, they are still the greatest country on earth.

Some people say Malaysians are stupid. I say Malaysians are stupid. But so are everyone in the world.

It is not the values or the systems that make a country. It is the people. Laws are just rules people decide to obey. Money is an honour system we choose to obey. Without our obedience, without following whatever system we ourselves put in place, there is no country. There are no countries. No borders. No rules. No order.

I subscribe to anarchy, which only means without leaders, not without order. I distrust any individual who wants to lead. Leading is an immense responsibility and no true leader wants that responsibility. Because it is always your fault.

Genderang Perang Menghentam Dada

2012-01-09T00:32:00.002+08:00

Walaupun dikelilingi perabot baru, aku rasa kurang sihat. Badan rasa tidak sedap. Perut aku dari tadi asyik mengeluarkan kentut yang lebih daripada biasa.

Aku ingin menulis perihal Ketenangan dan Ketenteraman Abadi, juga Panduan Hikmat Asura, tetapi rasanya aku perlukan tidur dan rehat yang cukup agar esok aku tidak jatuh sakit.

Malaysian Psycho: Gandhi (the film)

2012-01-08T20:10:00.002+08:00

I do not know Gandhi. Never met him.

And when I was small, I read about Mohandas Gandhi in a children's encyclopedia (we have several sets which my father ordered from Reader's Digest. I read them all).

The books catalogue the life of such luminaries as Clara Barton, St Francis of Asissi, George Washington Carver, Marie Curie, Samuel Clemens and John James Audobon. Gandhi was one of a few stories.

Then, one night, I saw the 1982 movie Gandhi on TV2. It was at 12 midnight, same slot as when I saw Goodbye Mr Chips (1969). It ran for too long, of course. 3 hours, and my father was pissed.

But I watched that movie, and I thought to myself, "Hm, that's a strategy."

Gandhi's very being meant that he does not take, but give. I see many businesses that are confined in their corners, without a means to grow outward because they believe in taking, not giving.

I believe that when you come from taking, others will clutch on to their purses even tighter. Give. Give, give, give. How much can they take anyway, before they start giving?

Of course, don't be foolish and give everything away, but come from a position of giving.

Often, what we resist or detest are exactly what we are. We project what is projected unto us. Or is it the other way around?

I have seen and heard people talk derisively of say, Jews, and they behave exactly like the negative attributes they are describing. Substitute Jews with any other label, and what have you?

Gandhi, he gave and gave until the British imperialists could take no more. And he liberated a country. Two, sadly.

The Malaysian Opposition would get more support and get more things done if they took that approach, but then again, the Malaysian Opposition is no Gandhi. No matter how hard they try to be.

Let's Go Let's Go Chopping! OoooOOO!

2012-01-08T17:36:00.006+08:00

While other people brag and gloat about their purchase of the cheapest offering from any brand. I'm going to brag about buying cheap stuff.

My white shirts are all RM11 for THREE, with ONE Dockers shirt at RM200. Mostly I wear the RM3++ shirts.

Yesterday, I decided it's time for a change and bought an office chair, a corner computer table I've always wanted and a dining table with four chairs set. Here they are:

This is the Jokkmokk set from Ikea. It's the only set from Ikea I saw that comes with four chairs. It's antique-stained, which means its colour is normal wood.

This is the Malkolm swivel chair. My old chair, which Ikea no longer carries, is worn out and frayed. I was going to get it re-upholstered as the structure is still strong, but do not have the time to do so. Plus, at RM299, the Malkolm is just slightly more expensive than getting my old chair fixed.

Finally, we have this. This is the Vika Amon corner computer table top with five Vika Curry table legs.

I have always wanted a corner computer table and now I have it. Wheee! Muahahaha!

The closest thing to a corner table set is priced at RM500. This one costs me RM249, because I opted for cheapo table legs. Since I am only placing my flat screen monitor on the table with my keyboard and mouse, with possibly an ashtray, I do not need that much support.

I do not believe that paying more will certainly get better things. Case in point: Bangsar Seafood at OneBangsar is, in my opinion, overpriced and the food is lousy. I would much rather dine at roadside seafood stalls.

Doesn't mean there's a bargain everywhere either. Just buy what you need, or what you can use. And I can certainly use these things.

One Note

2012-01-07T10:44:00.002+08:00

You know what they say about how everyone have stories. I also see that they put forth certain stories as well, in their daily lives.

A person's story - his entire existence could be, "If you know me, you will know that I am great. Please be impressed. PleasePleasePlease!"

Other people project this - "I'm better than everything and everyone and should be worshiped. PleasePleasePlease. Please believe me!"

Some people project whole genres. A woman could carry the 'spirit' genre of stories, stories of facing adversity, without even facing adversity. Always on the verge of tears for that moment in an inspirational movie where the protagonists fight and climb over a hill or something. Willy the Killer Whale jumping over some weird kid.

A few I have seen carry the victim story and project them everywhere like a projector leaking light. Crazy. And quite a few.

There is no problem having or projecting a story, but when you are too caught up with one tale, one message, you become a one-note human.

Unless trying to reinforce an idea for whatever purpose, it is best to not project stories or get too deep into your own story. Or project many different stories. Not a rule or law, but what I find effective.

Otherwise, we all will be caught up with some form of whatever without having the chance to do many things.

Saya Belia 4B

2012-01-07T03:28:00.002+08:00

Sebagai Ketua Jejaka UMNO Cawangan Bangsar, saya ingin mengunjurkan setinggi-tinggi ucapan terima kasih kepada Perdana Menteri kita, Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak menyediakan langit yang cerah hari ini.

Saya yakin, kalau PM ialah saudara Anwar Ibahim, langit akan gelap dan kita akan dihujani bontot.

Berdirinya saya di sini adalah untuk menyampaikan rasa tidak puas hati pada Restoran San Francisco 1901. Francais ini telah mencabar kerajaan - jangan cabar kerajaan! - dengan meminta untuk menjual hot dog di mahkamah.

Saya ingin tanya Restoran San Francisco 1901 yang tiada wakilnya hari ini, kenapa sanggup menconteng arang di muka setiap warga Malaysia sebegitu? Makanan orang Melayu bukan hot dog, tetapi ayam goreng.

Saya tidak mendengar KFC meminta permit untuk menjual ayam mereka - makanan tradisi Melayu - di mahkamah. Kalau mereka boleh mengikut adat-resam kita, kenapa tidak awak? Sudahlah San Francisco itu bandar di Amerika. KFC tak ada pula meletakkan nama bandar asing dalam kedai mereka. Apa salah KFC?

Saya juga ingin menegur sikap sesetengah pihak tidak bertanggungjawab yang memperlekehkan dan mentertawakan laman sesawang Kementerian Pertahanan yang saya akui, tidak diterjemah dengan baik.

Tetapi, apalah implikasi negatifnya kalau kita mengikut perincian cadangan di laman sesawang tersebut?

Bapa saya membelikan saya baju cerpelai - baju kebangsaan Malaysia - sejak saya kecil, dan ibu saya membunuh musang di pagi Raya agar kami adik beradik dapat memakainya untuk pergi masjid, sembahyang raya.

Tuan-tuan semua tidak fahaaaam, niat kerajaan. Kerajaan berniat baik. Kerajaan seudah menyediakan kesemuanya - bekalan air, eletrik, pili bomba, sungai. Semua sudah ada.

Saya kesal dengan retorik pembangkang dan media alternatif yang hanya mewujudkan polemik picisan yang pincang. Mereka hanya tahu membangkang, tetapi tidak mentadbir.

Sebagai belia 4B, saya akan bermain bola selepas ini. Jadi, saya harap saudara-saudari sekalian fikir-fikirkanlah apa yang bakal kita gunakan sebagai wacana masyarakat hadhari madani, samawi majusi.

Sekain, terima kasih.

Intermission: Nine Yin Manuals

2012-01-07T03:08:00.002+08:00

In recent weeks, I am thinking of expanding my skill sets. My question is, which way?

I started out as a programmer, because I prefer talking to machines than humans. After graduating, for no apparent reason, my gut instincts told me to pursue my dreams of writing. Well, there was a reason. I went through that cult - the Asiaworks training thing.

If you go through the training, the most important thing - for me - was facing yourself. You can't find the truth without knowing yourself. Gnothi seauton. The training works (or doesn't) differently for different people.

I would say that if this was Heaven's Sword and Dragon Sabre, that would be Great Solar Stance.

I was a guy in the desert, finding a few drops of water.

I went into journalism because Neil Gaiman became a journalist for 8 years. The past 8 years, I have achieved whatever I wanted to achieve. My goals, not others'.

Wrote a biography, a few movies, some TV series, a couple of documentaries, wrote a novel. The usual stuff. I picked up photography along the way.

Now, I have writing. Should I try my hand and push at photography, programming or graphic design? Should I push languages? I left my Japanese education early, and I have been listening to Cantonese and Hokkien.

Some things, I will continue to hone. After discovering Eckhart Tolle, I will continue to live my life as an experiment in happiness.

Limit Break

2012-01-07T00:26:00.002+08:00

My mind was debating whether I should or should not write about how I'm feeling good.

Consider that most idiots, when seeing or sensing someone in a positive mood would seek to destroy that positivity as it is seen and experienced - perhaps unconsciously - as a threat to their self-existence or in other words ego.

If I were to reveal my happiness, I would be besieged by hordes of idiots trying to disprove my statements. Especially those who believe reading this website will give them some kind of advantage over me as they find out what I'm thinking.

Then, I thought, why the fuck should I give a fuck?

In the past few weeks, since I decided that there's no use moping around and whining to my sister, I decided to move forward. When I move, I can't help but distort and skew the world around me. It was the price. It is always the price. Our existence deforms the universe - that is responsibility, said Delirium.

So I continued my breathing exercises, picked up on my cooking and started focusing. There are literally hundreds of tiny little tasks, maybe thousands. I approach them one by one, and I apply Eckhart Tolle's teachings.

I find that my energy has improved, and I am now more aware of energy projection, my presence. I sense that the working days seem shorter as I cram even more things into them.

My memory has improved as I begin to see things as both disjointed individual things as well as part of a whole. I could remember figures, facts, actual quotes, even dig up memories of old, things I haven't been able to remember for a long time.

It was like, before this, I always saw the world as moving in slow motion, without me being able to do anything. Now, I can make some movements. Only some.

This weekend, I am faced with three tasks. Three projects - all very different challenges but requiring the same kind of awareness.

The first is an organisational challenge. I need to re-establish flow. The second requires an understanding of mass psychology and research. The third, taps into creativity and storytelling, primarily.

I have 48 hours, starting 39 minutes ago. See you after the gap.

Baru-Baru Ini: Analisis Politik Sebab Terbangun Nak Kencing

2012-01-05T01:54:00.002+08:00

Selepas puas bergelak ketawa dengan retorik politik klise di Twitter, aku duduk sebentar sambil menghisap rokok.

Aku memerhatikan perkembangan politik Malaysia secara senyap. Aku bukan orang politik. Aku orang paya.

Baru-baru ni, ada cerita penulis blog ternama Sakmongkol masuk DAP. Rupanya dia dulu ADUN Pekan. Masa yang sama, RPK hentam Anwar.

Baru-baru ini jugak, ada kisah Anwar nak namakan pengganti. Baguslah. Aku rasa PR akan lebih kukuh tanpa Anwar. Calon terbaik? Bagi aku, Baru Bian.

Baru Bian amat popular, dan mampu menukar arus di Sabah dan Sarawak - kawasan kelemahan pembangkang, kalau ikut analisis RPK.

Kalau Baru Bian calon PM Pakatan Rakyat, aku fikir barulah ada keseronokan pilihanraya umum nanti. Hahaha.

Kuasa kedua-dua BN dan PR harus dikekang. Sebagai seorang yang True Neutral sejati, aku pedulittaik sapa menang, sapa kalah. Bukan aku dapat duit pun. Hidup aku sama aje.

Kalau aku menyampah sangat duduk Malaysia, aku pindah negara lain. Menyalak, melolong ke hulu ke hilir, buang masa je.

Pergilah mampus.

The Boron Bunch: The Continuing Adventures of the World's Most Boring Man

2012-01-03T22:19:00.004+08:00

Today, I started work for 2012 with a bang. I uploaded four times the number of required stories, then checked to see my team is also on high gear.

Things get done and before I knew it, I was stopped during lunch for a consultation, by another department. Fortunately, I have spent most of my time in the past several months reading. That means four to eight hours every day poring through websites, in search of knowledge.

The consult was concerning a celebration in March and I gave ideas on how to improve a guest speaker option.

Then, it was time for a meeting. I am sometimes obsessed with structure, but this time, I forego the well-thought out introduction to cut straight to the chase - a defining point in a campaign.

This point, if not given proper focus and attention, could make or break the whole thing. Resolution? I will have to write it down.

Writing is my element. As I wrote, several things and methods came to mind and I began to see some ways on dealing with that pivotal point. None offer a complete solution, but it is possible.

Spent time on that for a while, farted, smoked, and then I had several interesting conversations before hooking up with some photographers and realising that I want to start taking pictures again.

Photographers are an uncanny tribe. Just like motoring as well as sports and entertainment journalists. We all think differently than normal news desk people. I was absorbing a lot of their demeanour and having a good time chatting up with them, before we all dispersed.

I found myself at a table of middle-aged newspeople. They listen. They also absorb, so I decided to unload on comic books, OhMyNews Japan and Yomiuri Shinbun. When no one talks, I will open my mouth. When everybody talks, I keep silent. It's a habit.

Then, my appointment showed up, and after two hours, he confided in me a sense of appreciation for people who do not whine.

I cringed a bit because I do whine, though nowadays only to family members and a very select few. I have gone through some bullshit, and I realise that whenever the shit hits the fan, you don't run away. You stand and you face it.

I wanted to run away many times in my life. But I didn't. I was too lazy. Normal people have fight or flight responses. I have fight, flight or sleep.

I won't run away. Somebody ran away once, from his problems. He was a good friend. And he left me with a huge mess. I walked on. Kept my head high. And the motherfucker STILL owes me money.

I'm not a runner. Nothing in this world scares me. There was a point I almost went bankrupt. It was my decisions that led to it. I owned it. I stood tall. It took some elbow grease and working till I literally coughed out blood, but I managed to pay most of what I owe.

My goal for 2012 is to be debt free. I know it can be done. In fact, I did it last year when I paid off my credit cards and half my student loans.

Hard work? Hah! I come from the swamp, motherfucker! My grandfather was in his 80s when he woke up at 6am every day to care for his bonsai trees, his one thousand chickens and 40 dogs. When he first came to Malaysia, sometime in 1917, he slept on a brick pillow and only had the clothes on his back. My other grandfather turned down a comfortable life in the Tun Razak administration, preferring the company of durian trees rather than politicians.

My father opened the village he stays in now, and he dragged it, kicking and screaming into the 21st Century. He improved the lives of so many people, rescued some from a lifetime of drug abuse and taught half the town.

I'm not running. Not fighting either. Definitely not sleeping. Not anymore.

Just bring it.

Winning Conditions

2012-01-03T01:12:00.003+08:00

Some of my freaky friends said I write a lot about spirituality, but not practical shit. Not useful shit.

I told them all to fuck off. The quest for happiness is the ONLY quest worth having. Everything else is just bullshit.

You get yourself in order, aligned with the truth, and nothing as well as no one can touch you. You will be free, one with the omniverse and all that jazz. Of what use is anything else?

You looking for a manual to become a millionaire? Hahaha. Not here, bitch. I won't pretend to know the secrets to wealth. What do I look like, Robert T Kiyosaki? Fucking conman.

I don't know any 52 easy life tweaks to make you lose weight, make a billion dollars while fucking every girl in Thailand. I don't sell drugs or delusions, motherfucker.

Still reading, you fucking morons?

Okay, here is ONE trick to winning. In life, winning is never defined by anybody or anything. People become losers because they go on and on and never stop anywhere. Hence, they never win - and because of that, they are losers.

What you can do is set the winning conditions for yourself. No one can do that, because then it's no fun and other people are always morons. Stupid motherfuckers.

So you set them, and you achieve them. Every single fucking day. No backing off. Full speed ahead. You make your own rules, and you reward yourself.

Still useless? Good. You're all still stupid. I win.

Fight the Future

2012-01-03T00:48:00.002+08:00

Idiots live in the past. Wannabes live in the future. These stupid fucks do not understand that the past and the future do not exist. Time does not exist, except only as the present.

It is very sad to see otherwise healthy, talented people preferring to live in a moment long lost. An instant when they were great, to justify for present failures and shortcomings. It's pathetic and annoying.

All the past is ever good for is jokes. For laughs. And to learn shit. To extrapolate data.

"I was the greatest-" IT DOESN'T MATTER if you were or were not. The only thing that counts is, are you the greatest NOW? How the fuck will past wins and losses influence your play today?

And then there are those who live on potential. On a promise that one day, they'll do shit. Fuck that shit, man. You either do, or shut the fuck up.

The reason why people use the past and the future as excuses is because they are afraid. Most people are cowards, not wanting to face everything they have faced before.

But that's stupid.

I've dealt with failure and rejection. Fucking conmen conned me and 'friends' backstabbing me. I'm still standing here saying fuck the free world.

There was a point when I thought, "It can't get any worse than this." but it did. And I'm still alive. Still standing with the only two things that have stayed with me - my wit, and my will.

I'm still the greatest there was, the greatest there is, and the greatest there ever will be.

When insecure freaks tried to make me feel insecure, I was just laughing inside. There is no one in this world and beyond that can make me feel insecure.

I grew out of comparing myself and tethering my self-worth to people's judgments a long time ago. I run a lonely race and the only worthy competition is myself. I do not try to be a better person, because the very concept of 'better' is dumb and stupid.

Realising that means you can stop wasting your time on fucking bullshit and start to do things that matter to you.

Failure and success, like right and wrong, are basically the same thing - results. Results are neither your friend nor your enemy. They are just there. It is our judgements that colour them, make them something they are not. It's good for business and shit, but applying this shit to our selves is a recipe for disaster.

The only path to true happiness is not in the results, but in the process. A result is a result, is a result. The process, though - that's living.

You understand any of this, you fucking morons?

Moronic Verses

2012-01-02T16:12:00.002+08:00

I'm a text offender, a registered text offender who doesn't give a fuck about your gender, closed Government tenders, executive orders or even the motherfucking KFC crispy chicken tenders.

I do the razzle dazzle and Billy Dee Williams start to sizzle.

Lost reference, yo! But nobody ever heard of Pablo and that chick, much less find anything I say stick. But you always pray to me before each and every journey.

Cause I'm dope, I'm MONEY! I'm a self-taught everything - I even trained yo momma how to get down and start sucking.

The Adventures of Boron - World's Most Boring Man

2012-01-02T03:23:00.002+08:00

I finished a paper - a proposal - a couple of hours ago. I was going to postpone it till tomorrow, but decided to start tonight.

It was done in two hours. I felt it move and I went for it. I was halfway, then fully done. It's a 2,000 word paper - pretty flimsy. By no means a complete and finished article, even after the once-over polishing I did.

At the most, this would be enough to illustrate one of my ideas. Just one. Though it has, over time, expanded and mutated into something else.

I'm beginning to feel like my old self again.

People usually say this as an excuse. "I'm beginning to work like how I used to," said the guy who fucked up, or the woman who was facing intense pressure from below-par performance.

It is used usually to basically say, "You know, I'm a lot better than how you see me now. If I could just replicate the conditions and situations that happened before, in the past, I can show you what I can do and you will be impressed and you will like me."

I give no excuses. I go at every task with whatever I can at any moment. That's how I fucking roll. Sometimes I fail. Sometimes, the tasks go beyond expectations. That's how it is.

Tonight, I will tell you about two things - presence and awareness. Presence is how you carry yourself, the energy that you project. I find that people - myself included - respond to any energy with the same type.

You bring ego, a victim mentality, insecurities into a grouping of people, and all you get is the same shit from everyone - ego, victim mentalities and insecurities. People don't realise it, but whatever they get from others is usually exactly what they give out, what they project.

Presence is a state when you bring your soul and your essence into an area. Martial arts people sometimes describe this as Chi or Qi or whatever. And no, you can't fly using qi. But what you can do is control your presence.

Other entities need acknowledgement in order to bring their presence around as well. Some people, though, are beyond that in the sense that no matter what you do, they will never be present. I have no idea what to do with these people. I know that we are all connected, but I am not responsible for other people as well.

Second is awareness. Do you ever do anything automatically? Like you wake up and go to the bathroom, pick up your toothbrush and start brushing, while your mind feels like mashed potato? Have you ever driven home drunk, your mind stuck on a loop somewhere else?

Sometimes, I talk without thinking - reactionary stuff are always non-aware. Whenever I reach for another cigarette, I am doing so without awareness.

Remember when you lose your temper, consumed by sadness, doing something stupid because you were so happy?

These situations demonstrate you without being aware. There is another state where you do realise what you are doing, but do not know why you are doing it or why you keep doing it even though your rational brain keeps telling you not to. Like having sex with your abusive boyfriend/husband. Again. All the while screaming inside?

This are actions done without awareness. If you are aware, you would be in complete control of yourself. You are aware of even the slightest movement.

It doesn't happen to me a lot of times - total awareness - but when it does, it's fucking sweet. Before I know it, things get done. All those unnecessary chatter go away and what remains is the empirical value of the situation.

Example: The task of taking out the garbage could be a sensitive issue if you live with other people. I don't, but I used to. So you can have all the drama in the world, plot to kill your housemates and carry a spiteful resentment that could last years or in my case - a decade.

But if you isolate everything and just focus - being aware - of merely handling taking the trash out, or reasoning with the person who is supposed to take the trash, you can solve the issue.

Awareness is very important, internally, and with awareness, you bring it to the world with presence.

I assure you that being aware of your own intentions and everything going on inside will eliminate any form of evil within you. People who are aware are never evil, unless they are psychopaths.

It's okay with me, because I am a high-level functioning sociopath. Ha! Stole that from Sherlock Holmes - the British TV series, not the Hollywood movie.

So be aware, and be present. Once you have dealt with your own evil, the evils of the world will be lessened because you are not feeding it.

Evil still exists, though - and so does stupidity - so be careful.

This is Boron - World's Most Boring Man, signing off.

Malaysian Psycho: Cyclic Coherency

2012-01-01T22:19:00.002+08:00

I discovered early on, that if I were to tell people the truth in a direct manner, they would never believe it.

Example: For years, I have been telling people that I have the most powerful mind in the world and that I also have a strong dick that can stand sexual intercourse for hours on end, ensuring any woman experiencing orgasm if they have the stamina to ride my dick.

Few believed me. I do not understand why.

So I went ahead and told them the truth in a roundabout manner. This seemed to work, until I realised the tragic truth - people expect you to lie. And why is that? Because people lie. They themselves lie, and their only yardstick to measure and judge people - and they do at every single moment of their lives - is to compare others to themselves.

Which is why it is vital - for most people - to get as much varied experience as possible in order to judge more accurately.

These days, my communication is confined to what is vital and those details which the other person needs. I had a problem wi9th communication early in my life simply because I could not compress all the information I have in succinct forms.

How do I include a description of the processes in which my mind goes through to ascertain that someone's goals are veiled through a complex network of lies and falsehoods?

I also find our Asian societies a bit disorienting because you are not supposed to look directly at people in their eyes as you speak with them. This is considered a sign of aggression - something we share with dogs.

The eyes do reveal a lot. A contracted iris means that a person is in an uncomfortable state, he/she/it does not want to absorb more of what's happening. Dilated pupils means they are in a state of joy.

I have some trouble with hearing - my range is slightly off - and whenever some people read this on my blog, they try to screw me over by talking in a rushed, low tone. I always get my revenge by destroying their lives, but that's besides the point.

I have learned to compensate by focusing on people's lip movements. There are also various clues there. Lips quiver and tremble, they stick out, go in, or - when talking - reveal more of the lower teeth or upper teeth.

Or how about sometimes some people are nice to you when they feel guilty for screwing you over or talking behind your back?

How the fuck was I going to incorporate all this information in a few sentences? It is impossible, unless I am talking to myself.

And so, what I do for important conversations is that I run simulations inside my head. It is slow at first, making me a mostly silent creature.

With practice, though, this becomes more habitual and instinctive.

Man, I am so smart. And my dick is strong as well.

Night Visits

2012-01-01T22:02:00.002+08:00

And so I had a night visitor - an old friend from the old days. He was seeking council - advice on going freelancing. However, I sense that he also wanted me to tell him what to do, and I am not in the business of running anyone's life, except for a ridiculous amount of money. Though I did say the price for listening is that I get to write a blog about our encounter since I am approached many times over by similar friends facing similar difficulties.

And no, this is not me talking about a friend when I'm really talking about myself. This is me demonstrating how smart I am, at the expense of other people.

I told him his life is his own, and that he is responsible for it and himself. There is no one else who can take responsibility for that.

He whined about his work making him unhappy and I told him that nothing and no one makes us feel anything. It is, in the end, ourselves that create the feelings and situations.

I told him to stop being a victim. We all have more power than we realise. Things happen because individuals went ahead and did them. I longed for a system that could eliminate the human factor, but - perhaps for my benefit as well as every human being - that system does not exist.

Corporations and countries work because of the effort of the individual, doing tasks. The overall result is simply a culmination of all tasks and each result.

Therefore, the individual is key, in current systems. Any one part dropping the ball means that every part - the whole sum - is incomplete.

I told my friend, cruelly, to grow up. And to stop being a victim. And to distrust emotions, as emotions are simply an energy source that can consume you.

Assert reality, I told him.

As he left, though, I wondered whether his visit was for his sake, or was it for my benefit, as I review the lessons of old.

Assert reality!

2012

2012-01-01T17:31:00.003+08:00

It has been many hours of 2012, and the world has not started destroying itself yet.

I spent the day going out for a haircut. As I got the trim, something clicked in my mind. It was like I was trying to piece jigsaw puzzles together and I finally realised where the key pieces went.

Afterwards, I went out and passed a very hot chick. Minidress. Sneakers? And a bag which does not seem to be her handbag. She paid for her cigarettes with a smaller bag she got from her oversized, cheap bag. The bag looked like one of those free shopping bags they give out at supermarkets, or sell for a ringgit or two.

Maybe she's out to run errands, but the minidress, in the mid-afternoon sun didn't make sense. Maybe she was out shopping? But I believe the sneakers meant that she was prepared to get sweaty.

Big cheap bag, sneakers, and with the time she spent on her make-up? I guess she's going to the gym later?

She noticed a lot of guys staring at her cleavage, so I just walked past without staring and I found she looked at me.

So I got into a cab and went home. The cabbie was still angry from last night, when he encountered some rude passengers. Spittle was spraying all over the place as he talked - loudly - about how some people are total, complete idiots.

If I feign disinterest, he would raise his voice even louder. So I listened very carefully to what he was telling me, asking a few questions, in my normal, soft tone.

By the time I reached my apartment, the cabbie was still shouting angrily about last night's shenanigans, but I was smiling and not at all affected by his sour mood.

This year seems to be shaping up even on its first day. I can feel the silhouette, the curves and ridges - the edges and valleys. More importantly, I can feel myself again, after months of burnout.

If this Dec 20 is the date on which the world ends, I think it's going out with a bang.

Sex!

2011-12-30T23:49:00.002+08:00

Way back when, my weakest subject was composition - writing. Realising that this was my weakness, I focused on that for years.

The period when I was in high school, I sensed there were dark undertones - some grim current running throughout the school. So I spent most of my time there reading. For five long years, all I did was read and read until the library became boring and I had to reread certain books - my favourites - more than 20 times.

Coming to KL, I had a deep distaste for Malaysian entertainment. There was a period in my life when I only watched movies by Japanese directors and Wong Kar Wai. So lo and behold, there I was right smack in the middle of the entertainment industry.

After learning mankind's dark sides first hand, I cultivated a hatred for people and everything concerning them. So, I thought it would be a good exercise if I were to try and understand them - these mammals with theatrics.

The amount of information was overwhelming. Tone and volume of voice, facial expressions, hand gestures, what they say in and out of context. I find that the best way to understand is to understand fear, as humans are motivated primarily by this emotion.

Yes, fear makes the world go round. Not love, hatred or anger. It is always fear.

The fear of being judged and coming up short. The fear of rejection. The fear of not being believed - especially true for children and idiots. The fear of losing out. There is always fear. Everywhere.

And so I thought, "I must experience these fears."

That set me on a quest where I hurled myself into countless awkward situations, just to experience the fear. To better understand it.

I finally discovered Eckhart Tolle's teachings in his masterpiece A New earth, which finally puts everything into perspective. I finally understand what that fear is, and why humans do what they do.

Doesn't make me a millionaire, but it does give me the opportunity to sleep soundly at night, realising why humans are as they are.

2011 in Revue

2011-12-30T21:11:00.002+08:00

CAPTION: THIS is a revue. Okay?

And so, On Feb 14 or so, Amir Hafizi doth left his post as news editor for entertainment at The Malay Mail and set forth on his quest.

"I shall build my kingdom with my own hands and wear my crown on a troubled brow."

Amir Hafizi knew that financially, he was in trouble. Credit cards and student loans piled high before him, the barbarian unzipped his fly and showed them his dick.

"Credit cards! Arrrr! Student loans! ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! By this dick, I rule!"

And so it was foretold that the Last Son of Pimpton, the Lord of Destruction, knuckled down hard and survived 12 inhuman feats of labour.

"My father and his father before him carried each of their societies into the 20th and 21st Century. And my mother's father's father walked the earth as a preacher before - with only the dust of his travels on his pants - he built a cattle empire. Your figures make me snarl."

And so he hacked and he slashed, and with more luck than he would admit, managed to pay off his credit cards and slash his loans in half.

"Huarrrggh! Barbarian at the Gates of Hell!"

Throughout the journey, the vagabond barbarian discovered some use for his spirit practice. He soon discovered a form of barbarian magic and became a mystical being of pure rage magic.

"I need mana!"

A chance encounter at a toilet opened a safe passage to a ship for our young barbarian. On his journey, Amir Hafizi started crafting a Reality Gem.

"I assert reality!"

Where would he end up? Thrown among the piles of bones and carcass, a small blade on his back, an arrow to his sphincter, or to reign as lord of all Sheogh? Only time will tell.

"Fuck this BLR shit or Amir SMASH! ARRRRRRGH!"

Principles, Vagina and Coke

2011-12-28T02:29:00.003+08:00

I was pondering a melodramatic entry about principles, when I decided to write about girls using their vaginas to open a bottle of Coke and 'drinking' the entire content of the bottle with their cunt, and then filling the bottle again.

There.

Now to sleep.

Dreams and Portents: From Singapore (And Sometimes Hong Kong) With Whatever

2011-12-27T01:53:00.003+08:00

Caption: PICTURE IS UNRELATED

And so I dreamed, earlier tonight, that I was at a Comicon in Singapore, where I bought two t-shirts for RM70, when I realised I needed more than the money I have in my wallet to last through the trip. After I paid my last RM70 to get the shirts, I went to an ATM, where I suddenly realised that I had no passport.

Aghast, I went back inside the Comicon area where my friend told me that he himself had come to Singapore last week and he had forgotten his own passport. He assured me that it is possible to sneak past immigration.

Then, people from my office showed up and I found myself smoking behind the hall, staring up at a hill. For some reason, the hill was observed by a camera. I instinctively knew that the camera did not capture the images we see with the naked eye, but rather of the hill in the future.

One of us brought down the camera and I immediately disassembled it, taking apart the memory card as well as whatever could be a tracking device. I was alerted by the party and as I looked up, two guards showed up at either end, preventing our escape.

I immediately noticed a room that wasn't there before and quickly entered, where I stuffed the electronics into my pants.

Then I walked nonchalantly past the guards and what followed was a merry chase on the streets of Hong Kong, for some reason.

We parted ways and I was trying to sneak past the Singaporean immigration when I woke up and decided for an hour's worth of sleep, that was certainly a long dream.

Bandar Dosa: Syaitan Mengaji Pada Dini Hari

2011-12-26T18:30:00.002+08:00

Aku hela nafas aku dalam-dalam. Tarik supaya lebih dua ribu bahan kimia menekan diaphragm, menekan alveolus, bronkiol dan bronkus. Rasa seperti paru-paru diurut seorang tukang urut Siam. Pakai siku.

Aku merokok di tengah bandar yang penuh kepura-puraan. Banjir sampai ke hidung dengan manusia yang berpura-pura. Perempuan yang mengenakan solekan agar nampak seperti mat salleh, atau seperti watak kartun Jepun. Lelaki yang bersolek supaya kelihatan seperti perempuan.

Yang berserban dan yang memakai rantai salib melintas jalan. Penganut Buddha yang menyembah manusia, walhal agama Buddha tiada tuhan yang pasti, hanyalah jalan ke arah kesedaran hakiki.

Mereka terjerit-jerit perihal bagaimana orang lain itu palsu, tetapi mereka sendiri?

"Tulen, bang." Kata TV yang memainkan filem Mr Os. Di kedai tepi jalan tempat aku minum. Tempat aku tengok orang lalu-lalang sambil pura-pura ahli filasuf.

Aku menghirup teh aku, pasal aku ini watak dalam cerpen urban. Mesti minum teh. Kalau tonggang minum arak, kena jadi artikel keinsafan. Kenalah aku pergi bertaubat di sebuah masjid dengan seorang ustaz yang hanya senyum, mungkin pasal dia kentut.

Sebelum tu kena berdrama dulu dengan keluarga, sambil mak aku pakai telekung putih berdoa sambil menangis. Lepas tu mesti aku cuba curi rantai emas dia, nak buat gadai, pasal nak beli dadah. Pasal kalau minum arak, mesti isap dadah.

Jadi aku minum teh jelah, ya?

Aku perhatikan manusia, dan syaitan dalam diri aku mula bergerak. Perlahan saja, pada mulanya, kemudian keluar dengan penuh kehangatan dan kederasan api neraka.

Syaitan aku menjerit-jerit ke muka aku. Membisikkan rahsia-rahsia dunia dan rahsia kehancuran.

Aku biarkan saja. Teh aku, sudah tinggal separuh.

Syaitan yang sudah penat, duduk di kerusi kosong sebelah aku, capai rokok aku dan dia menyalakan sebatang.

"Tenang kau hari ni?" katanya, selamba.

Aku menarik asap rokok, mengurut peparu.

"Apa pasal kau tak jawab?"

Aku habiskan teh.

Muka syaitan sesekali nampak macam Dave Grohl pakai mekap setan.

"Kau ingat," aku berhenti seketika untuk pastikan syaitan masih mendengar, "Zaman sekarang ni, kau dah cukup jahat?"

"Akulah Tuhan Kegelapan!"

Aku tenung mukanya, yang nampak macam Usain Bolt.

"Hmph. Kau dah ketinggalan zaman. Aku jauh lagi ke depan."

Aku pun balik rumah, dan aku berak. Pastu aku pun tidur awal.

Pada dini hari, aku terjaga dan aku terdengar Syaitan baca Al Quran sambil menangis teresak-esak. Aku sambung tidur.

"Hmph, amatur," bisikku pada diri sendiri.

Intermission: For Whom the Bell Tolls

2011-12-26T03:29:00.003+08:00

Been resting and playing for two days, so today I am going to work. There are a few things that need to be done and as always, I am the one to do it.

But that's work. It's the same anywhere, everywhere.

Recently, there has again been a big hoo-haa on wishinghttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif people 'Merry Christmas'. Some morons said Muslims can't wish that to non-Muslims, for fear of points being deducted from our good deeds.

What nonsense. But then again, this is how a lot of people want to live their lives - dictated by nonsense people - so who is anyone to tell them otherwise? To tell them they are wrong.

Whenever I alert people that they are wrong, they get angry, even when the whole intention is the sharing of information. And there are lots of information about these religious festivities.

For example, Christmas is probably not the day on which Jesus was born. He was born probably in Spring. Some sources say that Dec 25 was a pagan holiday to celebrate either Mithras or Saturn. Hence The Big Bang Theory's Sheldon saying Happy Saturnalia instead of Merry Christmas.

When I was in school, my teachers and a book said that the two Eids were created to replace two pagan festivals happening at the same time. I do not know the veracity of this as it was handed down as an oral tradition.

If we go back further in time, we can find many elements in current religion stemming from even older beliefs. The Siratul-Mustaqim that is mentioned in Islam, was also a depiction of Judgement Day by Zoroastrians. Their As-Sirat was also a bridge the width of a seventh of a single human hair.

Jesus' traits of being born of a virgin, tempted in the desert, crucified and later resurrected were also the stories of Mithra, Krishna and some Egyptian God. And Jesus was mentioned in both The Bible as well as The Koran.

The teachings of a middle path is also inherent in Buddhism, some 500 years before Christ. Islam also teaches moderation, also a middle path, frowning on extremism.

In Malaysia, the practice of bankrupting one's self for marriage was a fusion tradition. Islam required that news of a marriage be announced somewhat, and the natives here combined that with Hindu traditions to a certain extent. So that today, we have people going into debt to throw a party (or several) for weddings.

In the end, though, as I always tell my atheist friends, leave the people be. They want to believe or celebrate anything, let them. Who are we to tell them otherwise. Each one of us have our own vices and the worst could be a desire to be right and prove other people wrong. There is no comparison, really, as right and wrong are merely two sides of the same coin.

FUCK YOU! and Merry Christmas

2011-12-24T12:28:00.001+08:00

House of M

2011-12-24T11:57:00.003+08:00

I'm a late bloomer. I laid my hands on my first computer - a monochrome Macintosh when I was eight years old, in my old primary school.

My brother, whose former interests were motorcycles and photography, then got into computers and bought a 386, later a 486. He showed me what was cutting edge at the time - screensavers.

The screensavers he showed me were used as a demonstration of what the computer could do back then.

I only knew the machines as one thing - a possible tool to play games. I played Jane's simulation for the F-117 and the A-10. Also, Dune 2 and C&C 2: Red Alert as well as Doom.

In 1996, my father decided to buy a PC. It was a Pentium-S machine with 16MB of EDO RAM and 2GB hard disk drive. It also came with a 14.4kbps modem.

I had previously encountered more computers and my first programming language - LOGO - at school. Back in my school, we used to break into the computer room to play games and for some, to surf and print porn.

I was online in 1996 at home, with the full intention of looking for naked pictures of Shizuka from Doraemon. What I found were communities of people living there.

In 1999, I was in UM and a bunch of us went to MMU to access the high internet speeds. I spent a month there, not realising I was missing out on a special semester at UM, to watch anime.

This was also the first time I created a website. At 19. It had a main title, which had a reflection that shimmered because of a Java applet embedded. It had glowing buttons. In other word, the website was total crap.

I say I'm a late bloomer because today, I see 12-year-olds doing incredible things. Technology has advanced so much that within a mere handful of months, kids can make professional websites with all the functionalities that any business would require.

I have met tudung-clad makciks who run successful blog-shops online. Those who say blog-shops do not work, with their rudimentary free tools and amateurish coding, do not understand people.

You can look at global graphs charting the rise of e-commerce in terms of fashion, gadgets and books.

It's not how the thing looks - it's the functionality. Bottomline, is this shit useful? Does it cater to my needs? Function before form. Fuck Steve Jobs. Long may he be gone.

Reddit's design sucks and is too cluttered. But when they hold Q&A with anyone I have an interest in having a Q&A in, I willingly sift through their pile of shit to get at that thing I want.

Craigslist sucks, but people still go there.

The Internet is a Millennium Falcon, not a Star Destroyer. Things get fucked up, tools are used not for their intended purposes, and people are jerks and douchebags. They are also way smarter than anyone gives them credit for. Understand that.

The world is fast passing me by. But I am not worried. Tides will change and there is nothing any single person can do about it. There is no use worrying about the ocean.

My skill sets are hardly unique. But I am.

I Dream of Electric Sheep

2011-12-23T00:53:00.002+08:00

Woke up at midnight again. I slept maybe for an hour. Maybe less.

I had a dream of a blue shirt in front of a cabinet full of papers. And that was it. Just one picture. A still image.

I record my dreams for an experiment. It's a useless thing, really. Trying to recreate experiments by noted psychologists.

So far, I have recurring ones where I met Satan(who looks like actor Zami Ismail in traditional garb made of rags), trapped in an oil painting - as part of the painting, part of a military experiment which allowed me to hover inches off any surface and dreams where I try to explain on TV horrific circumstances that I only realise as I grabbed the mic.

I have been having these dreams for some years now. I have no idea what they mean.

When I am tired, I often do not dream, and feel lethargic after I wake up.

Sleep without dreams means I did not go into REM sleep. Dreams only occur during REM sleep and the unique brain-serotonin is only produced by the organ when you dream.

Serotonin is the chemical that controls happiness and apetite.

This is why humans feel better after a restful sleep. Which is why I am going back to bed right now and try to dream of electric sheep.

Malaysian Psycho: Jung and Freud

2011-12-22T22:41:00.003+08:00

Today, I'm going to write a very simplified and condensed take on the works of Jung and Freud by using myself as an example.

You can read about their stuff on Wikipedia, so these are only things I myself have taken and thought about. This came about when some people told me I was probably insane or suffered from some form of autism.

Asperger's syndrome, probably.

I ruled out Asperger's because the syndrome requires that I be socially awkward most of the time and I do not have repetitive types of behavior common in the sufferers of such a disease. The social awkwardness I experienced early on in life was just me being young. And my moves have been random, only some of the times deliberately so.

My interests are broad, ranging from comics to Jungian psychology. Jung is by far my preferred authority on the matter simply because his analytical psychology fits with my world view. I irrationally reject MOST of Freud's derivations and theories simply because I find his penis-envy and seeking pleasure to be too simplistic.

Jung talks about a collective unconscious, which has been proven in some lab studies with white mice. White mice a few generations later could navigate through the maze better than the first few who encountered it, even if the babies were separated from birth - ruling out a kind of mice language for knowledge transfer.

Freud, meanwhile, believes in a subconscious dictating our moves and patterns of behavior. His theory points to the ego. In fact, he came up with the terms the id, ego and super-ego to explain what is basically - to me - the ego trying to convince the self that it is the self.

Jung is particularly useful in analysing mass crowd movements. The book Generations adhered to this theory somewhat in their take on each generation embodying a certain archetype.

I think I have written enough big words today. Now, for some tweeting before sleep.

Victim Stories

2011-12-22T00:43:00.002+08:00

As the world's greatest psychological mentat, I must say that our society - the global one - is fraught with victim stories.

It is an old story where people place themselves as victims, relinquishing any and all form of control or responsibility to whatever is at hand. Whatever is convenient.

It is the ultimate running away practice, when you are no longer human or even a sentient being. You are just a victim, a worshiper of pain and therefore gets all the sympathy you can get.

The truth is, we all have more power than we dare admit. Whatever happens to us is a direct result of our decisions. We even command our state of being.

So if you are in an abusive relationship, you can always leave. If you are heading nowhere, you can always head somewhere.

"You don't have to be nowhere forever." - Delirium of the Sandman Comics.

In my world view, there are infinite gates - portals that can lead you anywhere, for you to have fun pretending to be anything. Because at the end of it all, we are not our labels or our jobs or whatever thing we call ourselves. We are not the experiences or the pain or the joy or whatever the fuck.

We are all limitless beings, capable of anything.

And those who limit themselves, limits their world.

Dreams and Portents

2011-12-22T00:31:00.003+08:00

I got home, crashed on my bed and woke up just now.

I had another weird dream. This was one of those trapped-in-an-oil-painting ones. Usually, I was chased by a huge Ctulhu monster, and I couldn't run very well because we are all oil paintings.

This time, I was chased by transparent monkeys with red eyes. And strapped to my chest was a nuclear bomb. I was trying to tell the monkeys, in my dream, not to push the red button in my hand. But they continued the mindless assault.

After what seemed like an eternity, I got tired and just said, 'Fuck it' and pressed the goddamned button. Hard.

There was a blinding light, and I woke up.

I just wanted to record the dream before I forget any detail.

Malaysian Psycho

2011-12-20T00:52:00.002+08:00

In this media industry, you usually turn out as either one of two characters - panic-button mashers or those who are as cool as a cucumber.

I am acquainted with both types, and I see their skills in getting the work done.

It would be easy to assume that panic-button people are chaotic and annoying, but in reality, they sometimes provide the order necessary for certain conditions.

In essence, panic-button mashers worship order and are striving through chaos to get to it.

Meanwhile the cool ones have nerves that rival combat fighter pilots. Nothing, absolutely nothing fazes them. And I have seen the wrath of extremely powerful men and women thrown at them, and still they smile.

These people are comfortable even in chaos, and in fact sometimes create chaos by being their laissez-faire selves.

These characters exist everywhere, on all manner of political spectrums. It is not an alignment, merely a method. Like acting.

And the best ones can switch between the two extremes at will, and still you can follow their logic and common sense.

The ancient Greeks, I think, came up with a theory that personalities are divided into four - choleric, phlegmatic, melancholic and sanguine.

Sanguines are happy people, or pretend-to-be-happy people who outwardly exudes only mirth, fun and joy. They do things without thinking and are often the blondes of the psychological world. They are the most worthless of people, most of the time, until such an occasion their function is needed. They are defined by their narcissistic tendencies and self-absorbed nature.

Melancholics are brooding thinkers, analyzers. Does not mean they are smart, just that they like to think, until sometimes some of them get paralysed from doing anything. Most valued attribute: intelligence.

Cholerics have huge temper tantrums and are obsessed with control. They are usually the most successful of all personalities because they value goals above humanity. The greatest tyrants, CEOs, kings and warlords were and are all cholerics. Courage defines them. Cholerics are often fearless and make decisions very quickly and are very committed.

Phlegmatics are supportive and malleable. They get along and are the anti-thesis of cholerics. People-oriented and introverted, phlegmatics are often the ones who ensure the drive of the cholerics and the plans of a melancholic are executed well as they value harmony above all else.

I followed some courses that make use of these classifications and people who find themselves as identifying with any class to believe theirs is the best. These people are usually the dumb and mostly useless sanguines.

The truth is, we encompass all these personality traits in ourselves and are capable of switching from one to the other at any given moment, to ensure it is the most useful at that instant.

So be it two or four, the goal is to be able to accept all sides of ourselves and be effective. Even as the dumbass sanguines.

Heroes of Might and Magic

2011-12-18T15:51:00.004+08:00

I have been playing the Heroes of Might and Magic series for years. Now it's Heroes 6, but my favourite was Heroes 3.

Favourite alliance was Necropolis. Necropolis units are not affected by morale, which means there is one less factor in the game I need to pay attention to. It also inflicts bad morale to anyone fighting it, meaning yay for me.

Necropolis has the Lich, which is a pretty good ranged attacker, with a poison cloud attack that damages all units within a specific area.

There are also Vampire Lords, which can regenerate with each attack.

And then there's Dread Knights - to me the best melee unit.

See, Dread Knights have this ability to deal a death blow of some sort, which doubles the damage dealt. The effect is random, though, which means something like 20 % or whatever.

If you have a Necropolis hero with Expert Luck skill, this means that a stack of Dread Knights have the potential to deal FOUR TIMES its initial damage.

The seventh-level creature is the Ghost Dragon, which has a 20% ability to AGE creatures it attacks. Meaning, 1 Ghost Dragon vs a stack of 1000 Angels, and the lone dragon has the 1 in 5 chance to halve the HP of every single unit in the stack. ALL 1,000 of them.

Necropolis in Heroes III is truly an awesome side to be on. My number two favourite is the more expensive Tower faction.

Because they have this:

SEXAY!

Tower is good because my normal gameplay is resource control. I spent many nights in my youth, playing custom maps where I painstakingly captured and defended each and every mine or mill until the enemy has nothing but second level units it could afford to buy.

I would also defeat their heroes and then recruit them at the tavern whenever possible, because human resource (as well as elf resource, dwarf, undead, demon, djinn, etc) is the most vital resource.

And THEN I attack the last towns, savouring the moment of total victory.

Patience is the last thing I thought I'd learn from playing games.

Charity and Goodwill

2011-12-17T03:04:00.002+08:00

To all.

And to all, a good night.

Lepasan Arhat: Hikmat Kitaran Asura

2011-12-17T02:35:00.007+08:00

Aku fikir, aku tak cukup best untuk menulis perihal Islam, jadi aku akan menulis falsafah Buddha.

Buddha menyatakan yang manusia dibelenggu kesengsaraan demi mengejar nafsu sendiri. Nafsu dalam konteks ini, aku kira, bukan saja nafsu serakah, amarah mahupun nafsu lain yang tidak mempunyai nama yang cool dan popular.

Nafsu juga, secara keseluruhannya, merujuk kepada keinginan manusia untuk menjadi 'lebih'. Mengejar kejadian yang 'lebih' ini telah menyebabkan manusia melakukan pelbagai perkara yang akhirnya mendukakan diri sendiri.

Perkataan sanskrit 'dukkha' merujuk kepada kewujudan dan kehidupan dalam dunia. Dalam erti kata lain, kehidupan itu sendiri adalah 'dukkha' - satu keadaan yang memeritkan. Sungguh emo sekali, tetapi itulah hakikatnya.

Buddha berkata yang manusia mampu menjadi gembira, sekiranya insan itu berjaya membebaskan dirinya daripada belenggu nafsu.

Beliau berpendapat hidup mengejar nafsu adalah hidup yang sia-sia, manakala mereka yang memilih untuk hidup dalam kesengsaraan juga agak bodoh. Buat apa hendak menyakitkan diri sendiri?

Buddha percayakan jalan tengah, dan bukannya berlawan dengan nafsu, tetapi mengiktiraf yang nafsu itu ada dalam diri kita semua. Buddha sebenarnya mengajar kita semua supaya menerima kehadiran nafsu, agar kita tidak dikawal atau dipandu olehnya.

Pada masa yang sama, amalan fizikal mestilah sentiasa baik agar kefahaman dalaman tidak diganggu-gugat oleh mainan luaran yang hanya mengacau.

Okay, masa untuk onani!

Semusim di Syurga: Seribu Pedang Pulang ke Asal

2011-12-17T02:04:00.003+08:00

Aku membesar dalam keluarga yang bercakap Bahasa Malaysia loghat Pahang.

Loghat Pahang ni, dia slow, dia perlahan, dia ada ritma. Ada lenggok.

"Nok ke mana di tu?" (Awak hendak ke mana tu?) dengan sebutan sebegini: "Nowk ke manee Di tuUUuu?"

"Matnya di nok buat gitu? Wii baleee!" (Apa tujuan (mat = matlamat?) awak buat macam tu? Habislah!)

Kalau pergi ke Jerantut, loghatnya lain dengan loghat Pekan, dengan dialek Rompin. Orang Pahang memang jenis yang santai, tak suka ribut-ribut. Kalau berdrama pun, jenis drama yang membara dengan perlahan.

Ini lain, pada pandangan aku, dengan orang Kelantan yang terus beraksi agresif, juga orang utara yang sama kerasnya. Orang Johor, kalau marah, ritmanya tersusun dan tegas.

Apapun, aku membesar dalam loghat Pahang yang malas dan santai.

Selepas beberapa lama, aku mula membaca dan bahan bacaan Inggeris memang paling menghiburkan. Rancangan TV juga banyak membantu aku menguasai bahasa tersebut.

Aku mula bertutur dalam Bahasa Inggeris hingga menjadi bahasa utama aku. Aku mula berfikir yang Bahasa Malaysia sukar untuk dijadikan bahasa yang dinamik dan juga bahasa akademik.

Aku fikir sebegini hinggalah aku terjumpa penulisan Ahmad Kamal Abu Bakar yang menulis tentang ahli falsafah, penyair dan pendita yang aku hanya baca dalam Bahasa Inggeris.

Agak lucu bila aku baca perihal Sartre dalam Bahasa Malaysia, juga Nietzche (betul ke ejaan ni), Goethe, Plato dan yang lain.

Aku dapati bahasa hanyalah tunggangan idea, dan kalau diperhalusi betul-betul, mampu menyampaikan idea dengan mustajab kepada pendengar berbeza.

Dalam dunia dengan media yang semakin rumit, aku rasa penguasaan lebih daripada satu bahasa amat penting untuk kekal relevan.

Pengkhususan dan penumpuan aku pada Bahasa Inggeris telah memberi manfaat kepada aku, dan aku mahu pertajamkan penulisan Bahasa Malaysia aku, baik dalam prosa moden mahupun klasik.

Sejak beberapa tahun lepas, aku telah diberi tugas penerjemahan yang, pada masa aku tiada pekerjaan dan menjadi hamba berhutang, telah meletakkan sepinggan nasi dan sepiring lauk atas meja aku, atau meja kedai.

Aku tidak rasa ada canggungnya kalau berbahasa Malaysia. Bahasa itu sendiri tidak bersalah.

Antara kebimbangan mereka yang melontar Bahasa Malaysia jauh-jauh adalah imej dan keinginan untuk tampak profesional. Aku kira ini tidak adil. Gunalah apa sahaja bahasa, yang penting mesejnya sampai.

Ada juga yang kurang selesa sebab mereka jarang menggunakan Bahasa Malaysia dalam pertuturan mahupun persuratan. Jadi penggunaannya janggal. Aku akui yang aku juga rasa menulis dalam Bahasa Malaysia sebagai sesuatu yang tidak datang dengan sendiri.

Apa yang aku usahakan adalah membaca buku-buku Bahasa Malaysia yang aku senangi. Aku suka membaca teks-teks lama dan aku suka pantun. Aku suka cerpen-cerpen Bahasa Malaysia selepas Perang Dunia Kedua dan sebelum 1980an.

Penulis berbahasa Malaysia kesukaan aku adalah Uthaya Sankar SB. Mesejnya lantang, pendiriannya tegas, namun kehalusan bahasa dijaga.

Untuk menulis dalam Bahasa Malaysia moden, aku dapati jenis prosa yang telus seperti naskah skrip pentas Namron (Matderihkoloperlih, Lembu) sebagai contoh ulung.

Aku tidak akan berhenti belajar dan memperhalusi bahasa aku, walaupun dalam mencarut, sebab masa untuk aku berhenti belajar adalah pada ketika nyawa putus dari badan.

The Madness of Crowds

2011-12-16T00:41:00.002+08:00

I spent a delightful evening having a great good old laugh with an old friend.

There were fart jokes, work jokes and stories of greatness and despair. And through it all, we managed to do some work that was hanging over my head. Hopefully it would be done by next week.

I was just enjoying being zoned out for a while and just do nothing. Be nothing.

Oh well. Time for porn.

Judging People Using Top Schools

2011-12-14T23:46:00.003+08:00

If you come from an all-boys' school, or one of the famous schools in the country, chances are there are people who would judge you in certain ways. Here I list the most common stereotypes.

1. MCKK

Malay College Kuala Kangsar. Elitist fucks.

Counter-point:
Yet I had some of the most fun at UM with MCKK boys. Fun, being in the non-homo-erotic category.

2. STAR

Sekolah Tunku Abdul Rahman. What? Least famous and impactful of the top schools.

Counter-point:
I dunno. Maybe they're on stealth mode?

3. SAS

Sekolah Alam Shah. Polite, soft-spoken and mild-mannered. VERY mild-mannered. EXTREMELY mild-mannered. I am not implying anything.

Counter-point:
I'm not implying anything!

4. SDAR

Sekolah Datuk Abdul Razak. Underdogs. Not high enough to be elitist, not grounded enough to be barbaric. Or were we?

Counter-point:

Nah, we're underdogs.

5. MRSM

Maktab Rendah Sains Mara. Malays who did enjoy the elusive 'Malay' privileges?

Counter-point:
I already put a question mark up there.

6. VI and ST John's

Victoria Institution and St John's Institution (It is St John's, right? Or another St. Whatever.)

Lucky cause they were in KL and close to BBGS.

Counter-point:

Unlucky cause they were in KL.

7. STF

Sekolah Tun Fatimah. Highly capable women. Seriously.

Counter-point:

And maybe a few bitches here and there.

8. TKC or KTK

Tunku Kurshiah College or Kolej Tunku Kurshiah. KaTaK! KaTaK, WOI! And they wore green. Arrogant.

Counter-point:

Looking back, I think the girls of KATAK! were just scared young girls, seeing a bunch of rowdy underdogs in a bus.

9. SMSy

SMS y-kecik. I don't know anyone from SMS y-kecik. I just love the idea of SMS y-kecik.

Counter-point:
I saw their yearbook. Very proud of their y-kecik.

10. SSP

Sekolah Sri Puteri. I have no clue whatsoever.

Here's one truth - by the time you reach 18, all you gained from high school is gone. Except MCKK. They're still elitist. And they wear their school ties every whatever day.

But hey, man. I don't believe in judging people. Actually, I do, I just say that to be politically correct.

And I use many more insignificant things than the school they go to. For example, five years ago, I once judged somebody by how much of an asshole he was. And he just went to a whatever school.

Okay, time to finish wanking.

Sexist Bullshit

2011-12-14T22:37:00.003+08:00

Some people think I'm like George Constanza - socially awkward, geek-like tendencies, vulnerable to women.

The thing about women is that I was raised in a family of extremely strong women. They are the heart and soul of the family. We, the men, are all aloof, and we just don't give a shit. My mother and sisters kept everyone together, or we would have said, "Fuck off, man," and wandered off into three different sunsets, by the three suns of Arrakis.

The women of my family do not believe they need anything or anyone in their lives - and I believe it is true. Their themes are independence and overachievement. They are some of the smartest people I know.

Fiercely independent, these women follow a strict code of honour and they believe themselves to be the ones who maintain balance in the universe.

Having grown up with such strong feminist ideals, I was perplexed when I found myself at a school for gifted boys. I spent five years there, cursing a world where men are dominant.

You see, in a society where men are dominant, there are lots of drama with people prancing around constantly measuring anything against each other, when they're not measuring dicks.

I thought that a world with more women would make more sense. I loved that idea for a while, thinking all the stuff I read in books would happen if more women were around me.

I was immediately disappointed when I emerged into the world and found that women are just as stupid as men. They are just people with boobs and a vagina. And people STILL prance around, measuring things against each other in pointless bullshit.

I was so disappointed.

And then I went to Thailand.

And then there was Eckhart Tolle, and his teachings pointed to a complete understanding of people, the self as well as the universe.

I find that aside from the tools to have gratuitous sex, there is really no discernible difference between men and women.

They are all equally fucked up. With the same potential for greatness and stupidity.

I called my mother just now. I cannot help her. I am sorry. All the talent and intelligence in the world, all the gifts, the skills - real and imagined - and I can't help anyone other than myself. And if I ever let up, if I ever slip, then they would worry about me.

I am so sorry. I can't save any of you. Men. Women. Mother. Father. Family.

That last line was a reference from the movie Tarzan: Earl of Greystoke.

I, Mercury

2011-12-14T21:26:00.003+08:00

I once told a girl she had a moustache. My intention was pure. I just wanted to alert the tudunged girl she had a moustache. Not to laugh at her, but maybe to give her five bucks to get her moustache some threading.

She got offended.

I once told a person that certain things may not go their way. My news - again, well-meaning - provoked a tantrum. And weak machinations that annoyed me so much, I chose to not give a fuck about the fucker.

I have learned that people do shoot messengers, and I sure as hell will no longer be that bearer of bad news.

So the good news is, the world will end. Regardless of what we do, the world will die. If we stop struggling so much, maybe we would have some time to enjoy the bondage.

Some people believe that merely the force of feeling bad will change things. It doesn't. Feeling bad has never and will never do anything.

Anger, guilt, sadness, frustration, depression. All useless.

Okay. Nap before the thing.

I Don't Give a Flying Fuck

2011-12-14T20:49:00.003+08:00

I got home from work. But I still got shit I need to do.

The past few months, I wallowed in the helplessness of it all, thinking it was Buddhist shit. But no, the Awareness means we take control of ourselves and our destiny, our life and even our breath, by standing in the rain, holding your dick out and massaging it lovingly as you wail to the sky.

"Respect my dick!"

It's simple. Nothing - absolutely nothing in this world has meaning. We put meaning into things, therefore the definition of the world is ours. We define it.

And you know what it all means? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just people p0laying games.

So fuck it, I got something I need to finish tonight, and I'm finishing it. I'll get some sleep first, cause I'm fucking tired, but seriously? I am the true embodiment of not giving a fuck.

Tales from the Drunk Side: Fuck You

2011-12-14T02:29:00.002+08:00

I am a bit lugubrious at the moment, having spent the whole night in front of amber liquids and some darker ones. But I can still write. I can write in my sleep.

I don't know why everything is run by idiots and stupid people. I don't. I really don't. But I'm not going to complain or tell my victim story.

No, man.

And this just after coming back from talking to people who know shit. Older people. I have spent a lot of my life trying to figure out old people because if you do, then you would have the wisdom of the ages. Hahahaha.

I have seen and gone through a lot of shit. Shit you wouldn't understand, in your puny brains. And I have enough brain capacity to know what kind of shit is going to go down. It comes so natural to me that it is instinctive.

All these inferior humans talking and worrying about the little shit, the little dramas, I know what's what.

A huge part of it is my understanding of people. I hate people, and because of that, I have studied them for a long time. Their tell-tale verbal and non-verbal signs, their psychological bullshit, even how they think.

First, you have to figure out what their motivations are. What drives them. For most people, it is the ego. The need to feel superior due to their insecurities and their fear.

I sense a lot of insecurities that shape our world. Our world, our existence, is shaped primarily by fear. That's stupid, but that's how it is. I am disgusted, but that's the way it is.

Everybody lies. Out of fear. I am the only person dumb enough to be honest. I can't and won't tell a lie. I'll escape telling you the whole truth if I believe that if doing so means I have to deal with more bullshit - which I hate - but I have never lied to anyone.

You know why? Because I know all fears are bullshit. What is there to fear, really? I have never met anyone smarter than me. I have never encountered skills I can't figure out or replicate in a few weeks. I am humble because it puts people at ease. It is for your benefit. And also mine, because I don't want to do your bullshit.

I am the smartest person I know, and with that, comes great tragedy. No one would understand what I'm talking about, or that I have gone through the simulations in my head many times over as you go just a few steps in the whole thinking process.

Do you know how agonising it is to wait for people to discover and figure out what you have a long time ago?

This is my ego - the biggest in the world - talking, but I am always light years ahead and I have to wait because the world is too slow.

"How is it working out for you, being clever?" said Tyler Durden from Fight Club. See? I should NOT have had to mention that Tyler Durden was from Fight Club, but for the benefit of philistines and idiots, I have to insert disclaimers all the time.

I meet people who love cliches. Tropes. Does any of you understand how annoying it is to see and hear what people are going to say just a few minutes in advance? Or even a few seconds?

I always feel like I have lived this life many times over and that I have had all conversations at least twice before, therefore there is no point in me saying or doing anything because I already know the outcome.

It is this immense boredom that I hate.

People think they are so clever, with their silly little constructs and schemes, when it is as transparent and insignificant - ultimately stupid - as one devised by five-year-olds.

So this is why, a few years back, I decided to stop being right and just find a better way to be happy. Fuck all this shit, man.

Being happy, to me, (and putting 'to me' is like saying 'in my opinion' because if it is your opinion, it is never wrong and you can never be sued) means to be free from all the lies and stupidity and idiocy and dumbness. Actually, it is to be free from everything. Which is why I am typing this naked.

I believe that being happy is the only quest worth pursuing. Everything else is bullshit.

Nothing and no one makes you happy. You make yourself happy by detaching yourself from your self. When all the definitions and labels are gone, you are left only with the essence of your being - your soul. It is this soul thing that, if you feel it, means you are one with the universe.

The few times I am able to detach myself from any and all labels, I am truly happy. Happy is a state when you realise there is nothing you want. It is the absence of desire.

And you know what? I want nothing. I used that at first, years ago, to ensure that no one can control me. Then I realised that that was also a want, a desire.

Oh God, I puked. In the toilet.

I am the greatest gift that God/Science/Eywa has granted the omniverse. Which is another label, I guess. But it's true.

Sleep. Now.

Give Me Money

2011-12-11T06:21:00.002+08:00

The world is really just made of paper. Imaginary lines, scribbles on pictures are all that determine our right to be where, as well as our time and everything else.

You wanna know why the media is so powerful? Because the media can remix reality, reshape the world you live in. It influences what is thought, what is talked about and eventually what gets onto paper - your pay, your worth, your freedom.

The power lies not with the media, but between those who are at either ends of it. Media is simply a collection of mediums for communication. And at the end of the day, it is this communication, this information flow, that holds all authority, all power.

It is this communication that defines communities and societies. They can take away everything else, but as long as they do not control what we communicate and how we do it, we are, in this last inch, free.

Give it up, and we are slaves forever.

I don't believe in resisting anything, except for attempts to grab my crotch or my man-boobs by undesirable people. I believe that anything we fight simply gets bigger. Every time I forget this, it gets slammed in my face.

Eckhart Tolle wrote some true shit, but he never taught us how to fight. And he's right. Fighting simply feeds the adversary in our own hero story, starring ourselves. Fighting feeds the ego.

Resistance IS futile.

And here's the secret. You do not fight. You do not resist. You do not struggle, it will only make the bonds tighter. You sit still, and you say no. Without emotion, without ego, without a loaded thought. Just say no. A high quality, flat-toned no. When the moment comes for action, you move with the universe, and the universe moves with you.

Ka-POW!

Okay, time to masturbate.

Vote Amir Hafizi for 2012

2011-12-10T03:26:00.003+08:00

Okay, that's it. I'm running for the Malaysian Presidential office against Zaid Ibrahim.

Here are my issues:

1. I am for the Peaceful Assembly Bill.

2. I am for the restoration of the ISA. And volunteer to be the first inaugural prisoner of its reinstatement.

3. I am against CPB2011. Unless I am on the board. In which case, show me the money!

4. I am for the legalisation of prostitution and the formation of a Prostitution Board which I will chair.

5. I am for Ambiga S to be part of any party, parade or whatever as Grand Marshall, to ensure good turnout.

6. I am for the creation of a third gender classification on Malaysian ICs. If Thailand has kathoeys, we will have pondans as a selectable gender. And 'pondans' can marry anyone.

7. Mohamad Sabu will have his own TV show. His catch-phrase will be 'ka-kaaa! woohoohoo!'

8. Zaid Ibrahim will be made Secretary for life, thus rendering him a non-president for life.

9. Anwar will be allowed to change details on his IC.

10. Armpits will no longer be an offensive bit of flesh warranting letters of warning from the KDN.

And here's my campaign slogan:

Spare Me Some Change?

CPB2011: MOSTI's Response

2011-12-10T02:49:00.002+08:00

This is a statement from MOSTI on the CPB2011:

PRESS STATEMENT

The Establishment of the Board of Computing Professionals Malaysia (BCPM)

Recently, there was a misconception about the proposed BCPM Act currently being drafted by the Ministry of Science, Technology and Innovation (MOSTI). The claim is that the new Act will regulate computing practitioners and force them to register with a new Board called the Board of Computing Professional and that those who are not registered with this new board would not be allowed to practise programming, software engineering or apply for government tenders regardless of their years of experience or other qualifications.

MOSTI would like to assure all concerned parties that the establishment of the proposed BCPM is a body that will give recognition to the information, technology and communication (ICT) practitioners in the country as professionals in their respective computing domain. BCPM does not aim to regulate the computing profession in the nation but only applies to those that are identified as Critical National Information Infrastructure (CNII) entities with the intent to safeguard the interest of the nation in view of the current dynamic and challenging global environments. CNII is defined as those assets, systems and functions that are vital to the nation that their incapacity or destruction would have a devastating impact on National economic strength or National image or National defence and security or Government capability to function or Public health and safety. The CNII entities will be as identified by the The Chief Government Security Office (CGSO).

As for the need to be registered as Computing Professionals with BCPM, it is not mandatory. Registration with the BCPM does not apply only to graduates from the computing domain but will also take into consideration those from other disciplines with adequate computing experiences as well as those with professional qualifications in their respective computing domain.

Why do we need this Act? The need of this Act is to achieve the following objectives:

Enhance the value of the profession as it will require registered members to possess minimum levels of qualification/experience;
Raise professional standards by developing and maintaining a code of conduct for computing professionals;
Review qualifications offered by other bodies in order to serve as a guide and reference when gauging which certifications are valid and relevant;
Provide some level of assurance of the quality of computing professionals to employers who hire those who are registered by BCPM;
Enhance the supply of ICT manpower in the country and help the nation achieve the goals of the New Economic Model in becoming a productive high-income nation; and
Serve as a central repository of all computing professionals and practitioners in the country.

The vision of BCPM is to ensure that all computing services provided by the Malaysian Computing Professionals are globally recognised and with full regards to the public interest in mind. BCPM’s mission is to elevate the standing, visibility and recognition of Computing Professionals to ensure that computing services provided by the Computing Professionals in the country are in compliance with appropriate legislation and policies.

Within the context of this draft BCPM Bill, “Computing” has been defined as a goal-oriented activity to plan, architect, design, create, develop, implement, use and manage information technology or information technology systems.

In coming up with the draft of the BCPM Bill, MOSTI has initiated an effort to ensure the views of all key stakeholders are taken into consideration. With this intent, MOSTI has engaged various parties from both the private and public sectors such as the Ministry of Information, Communications and Culture, Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission (MCMC), Public Service Department of Malaysia, Malaysian Administration Modernisation and Management Planning Unit (MAMPU), National Security Council, CGSO, National ICT Deans Council (MADICT), National Professors Council, Association of the Computer and Multimedia Industry Malaysia (PIKOM), Multimedia Development Corporation (MDeC), CyberSecurity Malaysia, MIMOS Berhad and Malaysian National Computer Confederation (MNCC) to deliberate and confer on all pertaining issues on the subject matter of computing professionals in the country.

In order to solicit further inputs to improve the BCPM Bill, MOSTI will be having an open day on 13 December 2011 (Tuesday) from 9.30am to 5.00pm at the following venue:

Dewan Perhimpunan
Ministry of Science, Technology and Innovation
Level 1, Block C4, Complex C,
Federal Government Administrative Centre,
Putrajaya

The intent of the open day is to inform the public of the proposed establishment of the BCPM and to provide a platform for all interested parties to view the draft BCPM Bill and give the opportunity for members of the public to present constructive feedbacks, opinions and thoughts on the draft BCPM Bill. All feedbacks, opinions and thoughts will be considered by MOSTI in ensuring the draft Bill address the concerns and issues of all parties.

Ahah! This is the MOSTI response to the uproar against CPB2011 (now BCPM). They are stating what some people discovered earlier yesterday. That the Bill will not seek to regulate the ICT industry.

That means no registration of anyone for anything except for the CNII.

Honestly, I am torn about this issue. On one hand, we have the benefits of having such a board. On the other, I do not trust any organisation or body that is not formed by the grassroots.

UMNO was created by the grassroots. Granted, they were Johor's elite, but grassroots all the same. A regulating ministry, setting up a body and populating it with whomever they choose is... suspect. To me.

It's like if my bosses set up a union for me. And elected themselves as de facto Jimmy Hoffa.

Secondly, there is the matter of the vaguely defined CNII. It is determined, it is now revealed, by The Chief Government Security Office (CGSO).

Copypasta: Chief Government Security Office or CGSO is a unit under the Prime Minister's Department of the Malaysian federal government. CGSO is responsible to provide 'security protection' on all government assets such as federal buildings and so on. CGSO also provides 'security clearance' for the candidates who wish to join the civil service to ensure if he or she is not a member of any extremist groups.

Here's their website:

http://www.cgso.gov.my/~cgso/portal/

Now, CNII is as defined by CGSO. Fine. Will the definitions change over time? I dunno.

I know that a bunch of people got really pissed off about this and I was extremely concerned as they are some of the more prominent members of the ICT industry. Others were depressed and thought their jobs are lost. A few have planned for emigration.

So here's a few suggestions to MOSTI concerning the BCPM:

1. Define, or get CGSO to define clearly, what current projects are deemed CNII. Also a guideline for what will be deemed as CNII in the future. Then, put this in the bill.

2. Ensure that no one outside of Gov-linked projects will be required accreditation. Ever.

3. Just a thought, but maybe the ICT people would be better suited to be on the Board, with one or two Government people on it as well. Let them govern themselves. And open doors to work with the Government, instead of against it. If that is the plan, then good.

I hope there is a good outcome over this. The news that MOSTI has stated no one will be carted off to jail for installing Windows is good enough for today. Let's make tomorrow less dramatic as well, on all sides?

Inside Amir Hafizi

2011-12-10T01:53:00.002+08:00

I think I'm supposed to prepare something as part of some training material for new writers.

Well, best advice is still: Read. Write. Finish what you write.

If you want to copy style, there's only one way I know - read. And get into the mind of the author. Only when you see what they see, understand what they understand, can you write in that style.

So to help people out, this is what goes on in my mind, every day. I'll give you the first 30 minutes from waking up to reaching the office.

Wake up. Check Twitter. Nothing. Check email. 40 emails already. It's 8am.

Should I pee or smoke first? Which one is further away? The cigs are in my 'home office', around 10 tiles away from this bed. The bathroom is 8 tiles away. Pee first, because holding pee in causes kidney stones. And it's nearer.

After peeing, smoke. Sit down. Scan Gizmodo, Google News, Yahoo News. Scan feeds.

Go and take a dump. Shower.

Choose shirt. Must distribute colour. Wear red less. Red intimidates. Boxers. Pale-blue jeans for coloured shirts. Blue jeans for white shirts.

Tag. Bag. Shoes.

Walk out of apartment. Go down stairs. Give two sticks of cigs to guards. Walk to office.

Mentally go through everything in mental list.

See NSTP guards. Guys I've known for years. Scar on left hand. Knife? Motorcycle accident? Walk past. Smell of un-deodorised armpits. Must remember not to inhale next time.

Door to office. Glass. Double doors. See the gap at the bottom. Locked? No. See the gap between doors. Locked? No. Enter.

Anyone having breakfast? Any chance of getting food? No. Walk past meeting room. Say good mornings. Walk to my desk.

Walk to people who come earlier. Establish what time I came.

Log in. Sit down. Log in again because mis-typed password out of habit. Check emails again. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. mental list one more time. Boss around? If present, go to boss. If not, go to breakfast.

At mamak. Scan. Try to match people's faces. See the connections. Patterns. Some girls only have a set of five ensembles. Some, a bit more. Today, wearing a newer piece of clothing? Yes? No?

Colour choice. Mostly white/light colour - probably no period today.

Night make-up, at 9am. Why?

Guys with shirts tucked in. Where do they work? Guys, shirt tucked out. Face seem oily. Must be journalists from night shift. Other table. Hair slicked back. Too much oil/gel/wax. Keys. Alfa Romeo keychain. On table. Insecure?

Zone out. Fart.

Zone in. Twitter.

Wait for second fart. Then pay.

Time to go back to the office.

Lucky for Me

2011-12-10T00:49:00.004+08:00

I met some white friends recently and for some reason, I sense some unease and disillusionment on their part concerning being in this country.

I just had fun saying this line: "Easy for you, lah. You're white."

I get that all the time. "Easy for you, lah. You're Malay." From my friends. Usually close ones.

I look back at my life, and I try very hard to figure out, what has been easy?

I come from the swamp. I educated myself because I distrust the Malaysian Education System. Love the teachers, but distrust the system.

Lucky for me.

I was in the top 400 12-year-olds so they sent me to a boarding school. For the elite, right? Privileged, right? My friends and I had to endure shit you encounter in '70s and '80s college, in that school. And more. I was lucky to come out alive and intact.

Lucky for me.

I went to UM. Big fucking deal, UM. Computer science, bitch. The most important thing I learned from UM is that you can survive on roti canai for five years and that as soon as you figure out the system, you must destroy it.

Lucky for me.

And then, I started working. Wow. All these fat Government contracts. Politicians shoving my ass with cash. In my dreams.

I had to endure things you could never imagine. I worked like none of you have ever worked before. Bar none. BAR NONE.

People often tell me, I eat like I haven't seen food in a year. I relish every bite of food I get because I know how hard I worked for it.

Lucky for me.

Fuck you. I mean, fuck you.

I am Malay. So? What's the big fucking deal? If I want to climb this fucking coconut tree and tweet while drinking coconut juice on top, why the fuck should you care? If I want to worship a space God that can teleport and shoot laser beams from its ass, why should anybody give a shit?

The war in this country, is not a race war. It is a fight between the rich and the poor. The big question is how long will the poor allow themselves to be fucked up the ass and felt up by grubby little greed fuckers before they literally start killing people.

And yet, yes, I am lucky. I am a fucking genius. I may do some dumb things, but I am the greatest.

And no one is luckier than me. Except for white people.

CPB 2011: Mammaries of Things to Cum

2011-12-09T20:13:00.003+08:00

I am happy to hear that AT THIS STAGE, the Computer Professionals Bill 2011 (CPB2011) MAY not include everyone - just programmers involved with Critical National Information Infrastructure(CNII)projects. This remains to be seen, until such time when the bill is described fully and in detail.

The danger of the Computer Professionals Bill 2011, in my opinion, is the fact that all those restrictions to programmers can be extended to anyone.

With the definition of CNII being a debated topic - some definitions put it encompassing the entire universe of IT fields - should one day CNII is defined as just that, 'everyone', it is a hanging sword which can come down at any moment.

I do not prescribe paranoia to anyone, but I am uneasy with such a bill hovering over anything. If it passes, it will mean that should things get too hot one day, the Government can choose not to amend the bill, but redefine CNII and include just about anything and everything.

I am not saying they will do it, because who knows who will be in power tomorrow or next year. I am just saying they CAN, and giving a loaded gun to someone watching my Jagger-like moves with only their non-visible promise of not pulling the trigger is hardly a good thing.

Right now, the bill is made to be as vague as it can be. As people hop from one foot to the other to decipher its meaning, the vagueness of the bill makes it what some have termed a 'blank cheque'.

I must say that we are not dealing with idiots here, but a system that has kept everyone in check for over 50 years. These are not simple politicians who look like buffoons, but extremely smart and brazen people.

While idiots annoy me, smart people make me worried.

Oh well. Time to masturbate.

A Twist in the Tale

2011-12-09T19:11:00.003+08:00

I was surfing (with a keyboard) when I encountered this article.
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Written by Lim Yung Hui, it points towards this part of the new CPB2011 bill:

Application2.

(1)This Act applies throughout Malaysia.

(2) This Act applies to the Critical National Information Infrastructure(CNII).

(3)Every Registered Computing Practitioner,Registered Computing Professional and Registered Computing Services Provider shall be subject to this Act

Read the full second draft here.

A few questions have surfaced. Lim asserts that the act only applies to CNII:

So, with my minimal knowledge of legal / legislation matters, I would say this Act DOES NOT cover ALL Malaysian tech people (contrary to many assertions, including mine). Unless you’re developing mission-critical systems to support the Malaysian economy, defense, public health and safety, this Act is probably of no relevance to you. - Lim

Then again, there is that sentence above CNII - (1)This Act applies throughout Malaysia. So, is it all CNII projects throughout Malaysia, or simply all throughout Malaysia?

Which is it? I shall wait for some response or new developments on the matter.

And Then They Came for the Technopriests

2011-12-09T01:06:00.007+08:00

A friend posted this as apparently, the Governmen is allegedly considering this act. And the technopriests are shouting bloody murder.

A few years ago, the paranoid Pak Lah Government tried to slap bloggers with a Mutant Registration Act.

They wanted to register us all and brand us with numbers and licenses similar to the Printing Presses and Publications Act (and the Jewish registration in WWII Germany) that would have severely curtailed our freedom of expression, speech and to write things like this x-rated poem in BM:

Sorong konek, tarik konek
Bijik kelentit dalam perahu
Suruh kongkek, saya kongkek
Puki mak kau memang berbulu

You know what I did when they tried to come for us? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They will pry my backlit keyboard(s) from my cold, dead fingers. But before that drama, there would have been years, maybe decades of me taking my shit underground and attacking whatever form of governance that is erected. Just for fucks.

Now, the Government has realised that they cannot control alternative media or social media, so this act they are introducing I believe is aimed at controlling the technology that makes it an even-playing field. If they can't tell you to stop using the swing, they will take away the foundation of that swing and try to destroy it.

This bill, if passed, will PROBABLY not affect regular technopriests, aside from minor inconveniences of infringing their rights. However, it will serve as a means to control those whom the Government does not like.

For example, the technopriests at Malaysiakini, The Malaysian Insider, The Mole, hell, even Lim Kit Siang's blog may not be given accreditation and thus their sites will be deemed illegal.

It could also affect me.

For example, if I wanted to start a site about how Datuk Seri Rais Yatim is a douchebag (which he is clearly not)

PICTURED: NOT Rais

or how Datuk Hishamuddin Hussein looks like an 'ikan baung' (he does NOT look like an 'ikan baung' or any variety of catfish),

CAPTION: This is not Hishamuddin, and neither is it an 'ikan baung'

CAPTION: The Real McCoy

the Government, through this bill, if they so choose, can use it to deem the activities of my site's programmer as illegal and therefore the site as illegal. And Google, who worships money, will probably succumb to Government pressure and block it, even if I host it overseas.

Apparently, they have never relented from trying to slap on the Mutant Registration Act on us, just trying it in different ways.

This is not a new idea. Several years ago, as I discarded my dreams of being a programmer to become a writer, several people wanted to band together and form an IT board and I was offered to join them. The intention, aside from obviously making money, was good. It was to protect and validate the IT profession as how engineers, lawyers and doctors have their own board thingies.

However, none of us ever envisioned something like that to be used as a means of control.

I will post updates on this issue as soon as I find any. I currently do not know when the bill is going to be tabled or if it has been tabled already.

All I can say is:

Reality 2

2011-12-07T03:53:00.003+08:00

What BN Politicians Think They Look Like:

What They REALLY Look Like:

Reality

2011-12-07T02:51:00.002+08:00

What Opposition Politicians Think They Look Like, Concerning Phantom Voters:

What They REALLY Look Like:

I woke up in the middle of the night to do this? Fuck!

Masuk Bakul Angkat Lebih-Lebih

2011-12-06T00:25:00.004+08:00

Sambal belacan aku, punyalah pedas, lepas makan DAN basuh tangan, kalau aku tampar Nicolas Cage, terus jadi Ghost Rider.

CAPTION: Nicolas Cage control macho lepas kena backhand aku

Aku terjaga tadi pasal rasa nak minum susu coklat. Patut dah tidur dah. Okaylah, aku tidur dulu.

Genesis

2011-12-05T22:30:00.008+08:00

Coming back from a hectic day at work, I put on the Neon Genesis Evangelion DVDs and watched the Rebuild of Evangelion - director Hideaki Anno and Studio Gainax's re-telling of the story of Eva - and realised very well that Evangelion was my first introduction to Judaism.

NGE had angels named in the Abrahamic tradition, trying to bond with either Adam or Lilith - an exclusively Jewish construct of the first woman. When they combine to initiate the Human Instrumentality Project, it is in the form of the Tree of Sefirot - the Jewish Tree of Life.

All this religious symbolism and signifying, while featuring this:

PICTURED: Judaism

Yes, that is from an extended nude scene from a recent movie of the original cartoon series. So you have religious dogma being used as a basis for a giant robot cartoon, teenage sexual tension and naked cartoons - an explosive combination that sadly, for some, resulted in them purchasing this:

Nothing says "Freak!" louder than naked dolls on your desk.

Hideaki Anno also loaded the whole anime with psychoses. NGE was a psychological tour de force which fascinated me because I was studying psychology to show how smart I am. I was very insecure with my intelligence back then because everyone thought - thinks - I am stupid. Or gay. Or a Hindu. Quite unrelated, but these misconceptions are all I deal with every day.

I have since outgrown this childish insecurity by realising that everyone is stupid - or gay. Or Hindu - and accepting that fact with my Buddha powers.

Personally, I don't like the Evangelion robots. The very concept of very rare, special robots built for exactly one, 'chosen' pilot irks me. I prefer the Robotech mecha, which are mass-produced.

If everything is mass-produced and the same, then the only difference would be the man behind the machine.

This is why I like PCs. Completely customisable to your own specifications and how you want to use it. There is no predestination determined by one will, one way. Just free will.

I do not like Apple simply because their products make it so hard to exercise free will. There is no freedom in using their stuff. There is only one way - the Apple way. It is the vision of only one man. Or one team. And I find that just as disconcerting as listening to the wisdom of the crowd. I hate both absolute states.

What the fuck am I writing? Oh. Neon Genesis Evangelion. Nekkid cartoons. Judaism. Cool.

Gonna go sleep now. I've pretended enough that I am oh-so-smart and know what I'm talking about. The self-deprecating humour signifying that I am better than what I have written. Oooh. Depth.

Fuck it. Sleep.

Insecurities Commission: Politics of 'The Other'

2011-12-04T12:42:00.004+08:00

In today's Insecurities Commission, we shall talk about group dynamics and the ego.

Many years ago, I was part of a team that was trying to raise RM20,000 for an orphanage. Our deadline was roughly a month.

It was both pain and pleasure as, a couple of weeks in, the more insecure members of the group started to point fingers at each other. A few people quit.

Then, the organisers or facilitators or the demon-priest Cenobites decided to step in.

Cenobites: Explorers of pain and pleasure

They introduced us to another, similar group who would 'help' us. This triggered our collective ego, as most may have felt that we were considered not good enough to do the job, which was going rather well, actually, despite the drama.

I remarked to another member of the team at the time, that this was similar to a psychological experiment mentioned in Peter Gray's Psychology text book, the chapter on the Eagles vs the Rattlers, which I have on my bookshelf (and I am mentioning this to show how smart I am).

In the experiment, a group of kids at a summer camp were separated into two - the Eagles and the Rattlers. Both groups soon found identities and labels to latch on to as well as labels for the opposing team. The Eagles considered themselves superior and better coordinated than the 'disorganised' Rattlers. The Rattlers believe they are cool and condemn the Eagles as arrogant sticks in the mud.

The guy gave me a blank look, and as my own individual issue at the time was my unwillingness to step forward and kick up a fuss for no reason, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself.

Long story short, the team managed to pull off the 20K fundraising while the other team was busy doing their own project and that was that.

Eight years later today, I can't help but wonder if we had actually gone into the whole thing with a more positive and open attitude, could we have done better?

Imagine if we simply included the other team. We would have more bodies, more minds and ultimately more resources. The intention, the goal was to raise funds for a fucking orphanage, not demonstrate how big our penises or clitorises were. Are. Whatever.

I am constantly reminded of this project whenever I work with other teams or even other people. Hate, insecurities and fear bring with it the seeds of destruction and as the Lord of Destruction, I know all about it.

I was later thrust into production, where it is a hugely collaborative medium. I can't very well worry about what the props people are doing, or whether the costumes are correct or even if the actors are given proper motivation. Worrying about other people's responsibilities and work only meant I would lose sleep worrying about nothing. The others will do what they do, regardless.

The collective ego and group paranoia was demonstrated in Lost. The survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 literally encountered 'The Others' and both groups behaved like in classic psychology. Textbook psychology. The Eagles vs the Rattlers.

Ah, who cares? I'm a berserker, what do I know? BERSERKER BARRAGE!

A Special Christmas Offer to Malaysian Politicians

2011-12-03T23:13:00.003+08:00

Caption: PICTURE IS UNRELATED

Hey, Malaysian politicians!

Are you tired of being the butt of everyone's joke? Is your ego lashing out because it has grown small due to the stupid shit you say? Are you worried that you will lose in the next General Elections?

Fear not! Uncle Amir is here with a Special Christmas Offer!

For merely RM20 million, I will deliver 3 million voters in your favour. How? Why, through the MAGIC OF THE INTERNET!

I will hardcode a null backspace to my Java environment and then send a pre-fetch command to ALL computers in Malaysia, including pocket calculators and PS3s, even a TI-82.

Using the MIDI capabilities of the gadgets, I will then send a sequence of brain-altering hypnotic sub-dermal suggestions to the frontal lobe of these targets, making them either insecure about their faith (for YOU, PIS-M), believe one day they can actually get the mythical, mystical, total bullshit 'Malay rights' (UMNOPutras! Special Offer!), racists but pretend to be non-racists (DAP), or ALL OF THE ABOVE (PKR).

(MIC, MCA, Gerakan, whatever party Ku Li is in - no hope for you. Take the money and run to Australia. Parti Kita - who?)

This system will work on any human, dog, pig or monkey no matter how primitive or modern they are. They will all succumb to being irrational, emotional people who chant slogans and fist-pump because they have nothing better to do than waste other people's time.

Using this 'hacking technology', I will also 'hack Facebook' AND 'hack Google', by getting their source codes in a notepad and fiddling with their header and footer classes. Then I will funnel US$ 400 billion - almost the entire revenue for new media in the States last year or the year before - into your Cayman Islands/Israel/Swiss bank accounts.

If you order now, I will also make anyone have sex with you by also stimulating their medula oblongata with the relative minor of F Sharp.

Order now!

Here's my Maybank account number: 114487051142. Name: Amir Hafizi Mohamed Sood. Password: Password

BUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUY

Desire Series: Ambition

2011-12-01T02:01:00.004+08:00

Desire is poison. And it is so simply because we treat it that way.

Ambition is just another word meaning to desire something that isn't is. To resist the present. Only suffering can come from that.

When I first started my career, I had lots of desires. All egotistical. I thought they gave me the drive to strive further and reach higher, until I realise that ambition was simply holding me back.

It was only after I cast off my ambitions that I was free to achieve everything I ever conceived and more.

Some people try to use others' ambitions as a means of control. The carrot - a much more dangerous and sinister weapon than the stick.

What if carrots have no effect? What if you have neither desire nor ambition? Try it. You shed a lot of bullshit and you can finally do stuff you want to do.

I have seen many good people fall to desire, to ambition. Purely egotistical, it impeded their being so badly that they become husks, shadows. Goals are lost simply because desire must be fed with even more desire.

Ultimately, desire and ambition are neither bad nor good. They are simply elements and we who wield it are responsible. We are always responsible, for we lead these things, use them and then eventually blame them for everything.

I believe that we are all responsible for any state we are in because we chose to be in that state.

A lot of people fail to face themselves or their deeds, and their own responsibilities, because it is much easier to complain and to blame.

Accept this yoke, and be free.

The Creative Process

2011-12-01T00:28:00.002+08:00

Coming back from a drink with one of my few friends who are equally exposed to radioactive science fiction growing up, I was going to write about the commedia dell'arte and its influence on modern day comic books, perhaps segueing into creating a comic book version of the commedia dell'arte, but I thought, no.

So I decided to write on how credit cards are evil, evil things as well as my own story getting out of debt. But, no.

So maybe I'd write about how politicians are stupid and how stupid works for you stupid people, but, then again, no.

So then I thought maybe I'd write about how epic my dump was and my high-fibre diet is creating really enjoyable dumps that are epic and should be turned into legendary hossanas, but, then, no.

And so on.

Stories I May Never Write

2011-11-30T03:32:00.004+08:00

Long before I was a writer, I had ideas for stories. Some of these, haunt me to this day, like just now, as I lay my body on my bed, I couldn't stop thinking of all the cartoons I was going to do, when I was 19.

There was an idea for a cartoon, there is an idea, which I have kept with me for years, and I never got to do it. If I die, I guess at least the story will be here.

This is a cartoon, because it can only be a cartoon. It cannot be anything else.

It started off with an image of an old man, scarred, on a horse, on top of a hill, overlooking an ancient city. Ships approach from the horizon, bearing the Portuguese flag.

Flashback 50 years ago, and there was a huge commotion as people of an alternate reality island in the middle of the Straits of Malacca rush to the palace bringing news of the arrival of a huge army from the empire of Majapahit.

Also arriving, unnoticed by almost everyone, are two companions from their lengthy travels. The duo have arrived home after leaving for so long.

They follow the commotion to the palace, where the Prime Minister is tasked by the King to go and find out what the Majapahit want. He starts by enlisting conscripts to his makeshift army. The duo joins, as well as five other young people of their age. These will be the seven companions.

The army marches, 10,000-strong, as part of a gunboat diplomacy tactic, to face the approaching Majapahit army.

In the night, as they set camp, 90 per cent of their fighting fore deserts them, as this was a ploy by the corrupt ministers in the palace in cahoots with the invaders, to kill the Prime Minister and get rid of the King.

With only 1,000 men, facing 20,000 of Majapahit's best, the Prime Minister looks to be in trouble. However, the duo come up with plans of diversion and tactics gleaned from travelling to such places as China, Japan, Saudi Arabia, etc, plus the individual skills of the seven companions, they fought a winning battle the next day, managing to scatter the Majapahit formation and elephant armies enough to escape back to the palace and saving the Prime Minister's life.

The seven are awarded positions and titles, and after this, go their separate ways, following their own agendas in the political labyrinth that is the palace and the kingdom.

Each new arc would explore each character's past history and introduce another character/tale from the rich vein of folklore in this region. It is to create a universe where all the legends can interact, as well as explore the meanings of dreams and life's goals.

This universe is filled with elephant cavalries facing teams of were-tigers. Shamans can summon armies of imps and ghosts, while people who control flying machetes fight invincible men. All the stories you have ever heard, is true.

Throw in classic scientific discoveries and classic battles relived on that small island as the kingdom fends off ancient empires at the time. Strategies employed by Sun-Tzu and Muhammad face off against Tokugawa's backhanded politics and betrayals.

Imagine a 15-year-old boy jumping up and slicing a fanged giant in two with an over-compensating dull giant blade. One of the shady characters using the keris to pierce and inject poison in rapid machine-gun-like attacks.

Valor, loyalty, and ultimately, betrayal as the draws to its final, shocking conclusion.

Ah...

It would have been great.

But it will never happen.

Oh well. Time to try and sleep again. And maybe dream of it.

Vagabond: Training

2011-11-30T02:39:00.003+08:00

I work with a lot of young people nowadays and ever since my lecturing gigs since two years ago, I have been more conscious of the best ways to pass on some skills.

I was very, very lucky. I had the opportunity to learn from the greats of our profession. Renegades, rebels and reniuses.

I had learned, earlier on, that in Japan, the craftsmen, the artisans, they learn or acquire new skills by closely following masters at their craft. This applies to cooks, comics artists, blacksmiths, etc. These are things they do not teach you in class - any class.

And so, for a long time, I studied them. No one person is perfect, so you try as best you can to get their best techniques. Before that, though, you must appreciate their own skills. You cannot learn from people whose skills you do not know, or do not want.

Writing can't be taught, which is both true and false.

The second thing, which is a more important matter, is one of attitude. In Avatar, Neytiri's mother said, "It is hard to fill a cup that is already full." If you are convinced that you know everything already, there is no point of learning anymore. Go and write your Nobel Literary Prize winning novel and give the world the finger.

The best writers, change over time. Neil Gaiman's prose have changed since I first read him, 17 years ago. Grant Morrison's writing has also evolved. The Invisibles was a verbose treatise on existentialism and spirituality while We3 is a minimalist tale of simple family bonds and primal relationships. He achieved this shift in four short years.

Your skills must evolve, must change, or you die as a writer. Writing is war, my friend.

Of course, Alan Moore never changes, but he is the Eldritch Elder God of Writing. And He Shall Come in the Night from the East and You Shall Not Know Him.

You acquire new skills by the simple act of observation, and you will do this, in silent humility and openness. Not in awe, for masters also make mistakes and no skill is perfect, but in presence.

Steal the skills. Learn them. And grow.

What works for me these days is simply to read. I read, and I imagine what goes on in the writer's head as he writes what he wrote. There are matters of structure, allegory and flow. When I write, I try and imagine myself as the reader. Would I be even slightly interested in the article that I am writing?

If not, I prefer to be paid handsomely, as I am a handsome man.

The Violence Has Started at Occupy Wall Street

2011-11-29T02:37:00.003+08:00

For YEARS, I have said that there is no racism, or a war because of religion. I have always believed that at the end of the day, it is a question of how long the poor will allow the rich to rape them in the ass.

Today, I got these images concerning the Occupy Wall Street movement and the cops moving in to fuck them up. Is this Kent State all over again? Will Occupy Wall Street turn from a stupid hipster bullshit, into a bona fide Financial Liberties movement?

Time will tell. For now:

All I can say is:

The Dream

2011-11-28T21:47:00.005+08:00

I don't really like KL. It's polluted and mean-spirited and much-much too overcrowded and expensive to live in.

I came here because of the job opportunities, in 1998.

Used to be, when I get depressed, I would walk throughout the city, admiring what's there. Nowadays, I don't walk the city anymore. A short walk can leave me coughing as I think of the smoke and dust in the air.

I have a dream of buying a condo by the beach at Cherating, Kuantan, with a private beach and a gym and not 30 minutes from my parents' place.

Prices are lower, and I know more people there. Growth and development has been good to provide all the necessities and wants of a modern life, while retaining the wide green spaces of the land.

Kuantan recently won an award as the third most liveable place in the WORLD, as determined by the UN.

All these things is why I have seen and met many white people on the beaches. Some of them wear the sarong and can speak Malay after only an eight-month stay.

For all you breeders, there is an international school there, somewhere. And one of Pahang's top high schools - SMART.

I think there are at least three colleges there and business opportunities include agriculture, port stuff (import-export) and factories (DRB-HICOM assembling Mercedes cars in Pekan and factories and refineries in nearby Muadzam Shah).

There are quarries, palm oil refineries and numerous plots of land primed for agriculture right there in Kuantan.

I believe that Kuantan is definitely an alternative place to do business other than KL. It still has huge stretches of land and opportunities to establish long-term industries and businesses.

The Iskandar Development Region in Johor is definitely a growing opportunity, and Penang says they are fucking developed and shit. Hell, even Selangor touted itself as the country's most developed state.

I think that there is a need to boost the East Coast and East Malaysia. There is huge potential in Sabah and Sarawak as well.

Fuck, man. Hey, Government! Yo! Go and pour 30 billion on the East Coast, yo! I wanna see my hometown grow, healthily.

Great Tools for Great Men

2011-11-28T21:25:00.004+08:00

This, my friends and dear readers, is the Scotch Brite Heavy Duty Scrub Sponge. This is the greatest and best thing to scrub your pots, pans and plates, glasses, even the kitchen sink.

I have tried many brands, and first encountered this when I was staying at a friend's house. Didn't think much of it at the time, but when I moved to my own place, I must say this Heavy Duty Scrub Sponge is not to be trifled with.

It has a green scrub side and a yellow sponge layer. The green, I use to scrub my pots. Very resilient and very effective. High quality stuff, this. The other side, is fantastic for wiping and washing dishes and smooth surfaces.

The yellow sponge side is a bit strange for sponges. The way it is constructed and the materials used means that it does not trap any food and stay clean all the time with no rotting meat or rice after a few days.

The great thing about it is, while other sponges and scrubs get destroyed and grimy after a good scrubbing - some even become balls of sponge and greenish material - mine has survived more than three months of intense scrubbing. This is definitely the Ferrari of scrub sponges.

And this, also something I first encountered at my friend's place, is the Mr Muscle Kitchen Cleaner. It will clean EVERY FUCKING THING in the kitchen.

I have used it to clean counter-tops, stubborn stains on dishes (tumeric and curry on PLASTIC) as well as grime on one pot after rigorous frying of beef. The beef stain is like charred whatever, and after scrubbing for a while with the Scotch Brite, I sprayed it with the Mr Muscle Kitchen Cleaner and left it for a minute. When I went back, it came off easily! Fantastic stuff!

These two are fucking great! Just fucking fantastic.

Happy Feet 2 and Other Reviews

2011-11-27T21:09:00.003+08:00

Entertaining, but the first one better. So many good and great things, but it doesn't gel.

Krill scenes brilliant, but seems like clips from other movies.

Mumble is not desperate enough. His kid Eric is irritating. If I hadn't watched the first movie, I would not have cared at all for any of the characters.

Now need to lie down and regenerate brain cells. Can't write shit after watching Breaking Dawn yesterday. Twilight sucks ass. As usual.

Meanwhile, on TV, Glee sucks balls. I don't care about the characters anymore and now, I don't even give a shit about the songs.

House is boring. Fringe is stupid. Thundercats 2011 sucks. Homeland sucks. True Blood sucks except for the fucking scenes.

Terra Nova is white noise. Ringer is bloody fucking stupid.

Downton Abbey is perhaps the only series worth watching now. After Lost and Boston Legal are gone, TV sucks a big black dick.

Futurama is good, but has ended for the season. South Park is okay. Robot Chicken is not done fast enough.

Oh well, there's always sleep.

Vagabond: The Journey Continues

2011-11-26T01:57:00.004+08:00

Today, I came in at 9am, finished a market research thing, went to four and a half meetings, had lunch with a colleague, then stayed on till 12.30am finishing some stuff up.

I completed all tasks, and finally saw the schedule for the next few months. All I can do is quote Neil Gaiman: "The destination is often a surprise to the destined."

With my job and all, I can't take on an offer to travel the region I had, but I guess I will be travelling anyway.

I've been planning a tour of the country, to 'walk the earth' for some time now and I might get to do just that.

I don't know where I'll be tomorrow or the day after. Nobody knows what tomorrow holds. But I do have a schedule, a calendar, and there are multi-coloured tags on them.

For now, I'm glad to be home, near my bed with the full-latex mattress, and to be free.

Fuck all you who doubt me. Suck my dick while I'm pissin'.

400 Per Cent

2011-11-24T23:18:00.003+08:00

Somebody once told me that I was too fucking intense. I made some people cry, and when I found out, I asked, "What's wrong?"

The person said, "I'm too tired."

So I said, "Well, maybe you could grab a candy bar. Snickers always does the trick, though I do prefer the taste of Butterfingers. I think you may have low-blood sugar level."

I have a strong flavour. A strong presence, so I keep it locked down cause the world is made of cardboard.

However, this is arrogance. This is just me thinking I'm better than everyone else.

Truth be told, at my most obnoxious, I have pissed off so many people. I pissed off, at one time, a PM's Press secretary, who had a gun. He eyeballed me like shit cause I went to an event in cargo pants and a torn t-shirt.

I pissed of terrorists (PIS-M), I pissed off gay people, I pissed off upstanding bullshit hypocrites of society. I pissed off people who deserve to get pissed on, and I pissed off people who didn't deserve it.

In my second assignment ever, I pissed off Ian Wright, and he kicked my ass. Literally.

I pissed off Raja Petra when I called him out on his promise to die. I pissed off Anwar Ibrahim until he blocked me on Twitter. I was asking him about phantom voters on his own constituency.

I pissed off people so much, they called my former bosses. At least three times. For different things.

And you know what? I'm surprised I'm still alive. I'm still standing here saying fuck the free world.

My editors who trained me, they pissed off Prime Ministers, Sub-Prime Ministers, Ministers, gangsters - they received clear threats (I only received threats from pussies). One of my bosses, one night, tried to pick a fight with an entire police station.

What I'm trying to say is, fuck that shit. Fuck all this thin masks of civility. You want things done, you got to break some cardboard boxes. And burn them.

I once helped conceptualise and execute a TV show in three days. Three days. There were three of us, and we did it while giggling like schoolgirls. That show went on to be one of the best performing shows on that channel that year.

My team at Astro, we did 3800 hours of TV shows one year. That's THREE. THOUSAND. AND EIGHT HUNDRED. HOURS. Anyone from the team, whether you love me or hate me, stand up and be proud.

With a skeleton crew at The Malay Mail, because skeleton crews are all The Malay Mail ever had, we did the jobs of hundreds. Maybe thousands. In Hulu Selangor by election, one newspaper sent 11 photographers and 11 journalists. Another sent 11 journalists and photographers. The Malay Mail? We sent 2.

My team of 6 writers at The Malay Mail entertainment desk filled in the same number of pages as a team of 17. Previously, I was a member of the team at The Malay Mail who worked at least 12 hours a day and churned out stories for 16 pages a day, every single fucking day of the week, 365 days a year.

I went to every single assignment my editor told me to go to, no matter how stupid it seemed. Because no story is stupid. With proper research, writing and editing, any story can be great.

I did movies that won awards, and some of them, kids still come up to me and tell me how they enjoyed them, which is the highest praise.

One of my articles was laminated and hung at Bukit Bintang because I wrote a drag queen show review as if it was the Miss Malaysia pageant. Highest acclaim as a writer.

And you know what, I still remember what my first editor told me, as she handed me a copy of the first story I ever got published in the newspaper.

"You started out writing cover stories. Never go down from there."

From that day, I treated every single story and every single task as if it was a cover story. I don't care where it gets published. When you read it or watch it or experience it, BAM!

The only times - and there were many of these - that anything I worked on suffered, is when I stop to listen to other people. Fuck other people.

It doesn't matter what other people think because I AM THE 400 PER CENT. I can't keep my head down. I'll go out blazing, whichever way that may be. Cause that's how I fucking roll.

And one of these days, if you fucking pussies ever, EVER, get the balls to finally come and kill me, please do. Because I am the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be. Fuck your mother.

The M Trilogy

2011-11-20T23:54:00.003+08:00

Tonight, Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa grabbed the Best Film award, amongst a bunch of other gongs at the 24th Malaysian Film Festival. I think the movie won close to 10 or something. I wasn't counting.

This is the second year running that KRU movie projects won big. Last year, Magika won Best Film and MySpy won Best Comedy, amongst other accolades.

Meanwhile, earlier this month - or was it last month? - Magika won, beating Merong, at the Anugerah Skrin.

I played my part in these projects - I wrote the scripts - and I am very happy that the overall strength of the team, the team's work and the teamwork managed to carry the story and cover most of my own shortcomings as a newcomer in the industry.

When Norman KRU asked me to write MySpy - my first and still favourite movie - I thought, "Okay. This will be an adventure."

I did not know that it would be a few years of being nervous and scared to death on most nights. The wins in the past two years were just a good ending to the M trilogy of films - MySpy, Magika and Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa.

There are a couple more films yet to be released by KRU, and I hope to - in the future - get my own stories released.

I did not do these things to win awards (except the Academy Award, which remains an elusive dream) - and truth be told, have never won one personally - rather to see and experience what it would take to write movies. The fact that the films won numerous awards I think is just a bonus to the team. I am just happy to be there for the ride. Thanks to all who helped. Cast, crew and KRU. I'm happy for everyone.

Well, the highlight of the night is done. Time for me to finish some work and go to sleep. I sleep early these days, as my job requires me to come in the morning.

I am still buzzing and can now close this chapter of my life with a smile. The M trilogy is complete, and I believe the stories are done. Cheers!

UPDATE: Magika won seven awards last year. Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa won eight.

The Pulpit

2011-11-18T03:48:00.002+08:00

I got to deliver a talk to young journalists today, and I managed to sneak in a sliver of of 'everything about me' shit.

I'll tell you this - I am not sure what kind of job or position you can classify me in these days, but I believe the skills I have learned in journalism will always be useful.

I told the kids, I wanted to be a journalist for two reasons:

1. I wanted to be a comic book writer. Long story.

2. I believe that journalism is the last of the romantic disciplines. Not romantic as in, "Let's jump into this icy water and die together, Jack" or, "I'm not jumping, Robert, so fuck you and your alternative lifestyle."

Romantic as in the ideals of romanticism. Because really, at its very core, journalism is about the quest for truth, and there is nothing more romantic or idealistic than that.

And I have spoken, yelled, taunted and cajoled journalists for some years, to fucking drop the content and go for user experience.

I have been doing it for so long, that I believe the world has moved on. People KNOW about the idea already and have embraced it. There are so many social media shit flying around that my ideas are no longer novel or revolutionary. In essence, I wanted to do a Huffington Post, but Huffington Post did it first, so I am stuck with my dick out.

I believe in cycles. The Hindus call it yugas. I think that hardcore content might be making a comeback and for the Internet to behave as one of its primal, basic functions - that of being a true medium.

Users have experienced the thing. So the next step is unfeeling it. Internet will be made seamless and a part of life, ubiquitous and invisible. I believe that is the direction we are heading, what with the next generation being more comfortable with structure and rules than my own generation.

Religion is making a comeback on the young in a big way. The heathens and atheists who defined my era will soon come face to face with evangelical young people.

Structure, form will be paramount in the next few decades, as younger people take control of the world. Chaos is nearing its end and order will come to replace it. It is a cycle that is as inevitable as the spin of the earth causing the transition between day and night.

It is up to these youngsters, in the future, to shape the world we live in. My thoughts right now are of how to retire gracefully, and to be forgotten, for mine was a path of destruction.

And bla bla bla.

I had a good, full day. I did many things - most of them I enjoyed. And I am merely capping it off with the one thing I enjoy the most - writing. And sleeping.

See you after the breach.

The Drive Review

2011-11-17T01:48:00.004+08:00

I got back at 10.30pm from watching The Drive - a new horror play at The Actors' Studio. I immediately went for an important meeting and soon after managed to catch the cast at supper.

Having managed to tell the sole actress in the play that I believe I saw her bits of her undergarments on stage as I was situated quite strategically smack in the middle of the rows, I went home around 12 midnight to finish some work stuff.

However, I must say that The Drive is an entertaining show. One of the more entertaining plays I have seen in recent years. This is saying a lot, for me, since I abhor horror movies - accompanying one of my good friends to watch Twilight as the extent of how much horror I can take. Since it is Twilight, I must say I am quite a brave soul.

ANyway, The Drive follows much of the tropes of horror. And by tropes, I am using a more polite word for cliche. Nothing wrong here. If the cast and crew were to hope for more audience participation, some of them might get punches in the face instead.

The story is about three friends on a drive to an old abandoned asylum. Horror hijinks ensue, as the story became a frame for other tales.

The acting was okay, with some good scenes and some less so. If anything, The Ride suffers from an uneven feel. However, this does not distract from the enjoyment as well as the comedy thrown in.

There is a certain issue on the setting of the play - whether it was local or in the States - but it is a minor detail. For most.

A message for people who like to talk during theatrical performances - don't. The cast cannot hear your warnings and in fact, if they do, might miss their cues.

I recommend The Drive for those who like horror. It is a bit off season as the Americans are celebrating Thanksgiving - a play around turkey and masturbation might be more topical - but it was all in good fun.

If anything, it is heartening to see genre stories on stage. Shakespeare is great, but seriously, fuck Shakespeare. And fuck expositioning to the audience. Nobody gives a shit you got fucked by your uncle 20 years ago. I mean, sorry to hear that, but walk it off or go to a group therapy thingy.

The Drive is a refreshing performance and story. It's not perfect, but it's enjoyable.

Side Note: I want to see a Namron play or movie. I believe Namron to be one of the most underrated and unappreciated writers or directors in Malaysia. The man has a wealth of talent, knowledge and experience. I'd pay 50 bucks to see his shows.

Side Note 2: I noticed that I did not put in driving or golfing puns into the drive. The absence of puns is intended.

V for Vagina

2011-11-14T22:16:00.002+08:00

A lot of people say a lot of things about Malaysia. Especially Malaysians. Some people say we are heading for a more mature democracy.

However, I hardly find anything we do as mature. In fact, I find most people here as infantile as ever. Some are stuck in kindergarten, others in primary schools, and some, even more barbaric, in high school.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I am not saying right here that you are all stupid. I do call you stupid, but not here. I'm talking about maturity here in this article.

It is strange that a man who favours fart jokes and toilet humour would even deign to lecture on maturity, but here we are.

I find that we as a society - all of us - as being held back from maturity, which I will define as the ability to have two or more opposing thoughts in one's mind without going crazy.

I see the schemes being cooked up by people who consider themselves smart, and I do not even frown on their evil or the amount of bad karma it will produce. I am simply stunned at the sheer clunkiness - the unclean arrogance of it all.

Once you speak - once words leave your lips, do you expect that the people around you will never repeat it? Do you really believe that your motives are invisible? That no one will know? That you can get away with it? Your secret hate and thoughts.

Oh, humanity, you make me laugh. Sadly.

Politicians are stupid or behave in a stupid manner because they are merely aping what they see. They are popularity hounds, seeking as much airtime and facetime and celebrity as anyone else. Because if they get noticed, if they are liked, you will vote for them. Without even thinking what that means to your jobs, your health, money, your present and your future. Sometimes, also your past.

Politicians constantly do stupid things because they think you are stupid, and by golly, yes you are.

They say, people deserve the Government they get. And to me, I have long stopped differentiating between the BN and PR people as separate. They are a system designed to enslave us, and we are too stupid, too infantile to recognise it together, as a society.

As a member of my generation, I am duty-bound to point out the mistakes of our system. The flaws. The mistakes. The ugliness. That is our jobs.

And I believe that politicians are merely the symptoms of a cancer that will very soon consume us all. And that disease, is our lack of maturity. In everything.

It is a cold night tonight. Rain keeps falling down. Say goodbye to the static numbness of your TV sets, or the illegally downloaded porn on your computers. And say hello to the Voice of Fate.

Happy Birthday, Alam

2011-11-14T18:43:00.003+08:00

Today is my old editor Zainal Alam Kadir's birthday. He hates to be reminded, he said, of the number that seems to be growing bigger each year.

I believe it's a cool thing. I can't wait to reach 40, because I was born an old man. When my contemporaries were busy partying in clubs, I was in a pub somewhere, reading the papers every night.

But this is not about me. Alam was my first real editor, and one of the three legendary journalists whom I look up to, and with the other two completes the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe trio.

I remember that the four plus years when we worked together at The Malay Mail at Balai Berita, we had around 2 and a half meetings in total. I could come in at 11am, and would go back sometimes, at 8 in the morning the next day.

I had two nervous breakdowns - both invisible and not at the office - and was hospitalised for stress-related illnesses four times. I didn't mind. I don't think any of us did, because Alam was - is - such a strong character, a great boss, and a fantastic teacher.

He would give you tasks and didn't care how you did it, as long as it got done. You want to come in at 5pm? Once a month? Sure. Where are the stories?

The reason why we produced so many stories - I was averaging three features a day, sometimes six, before one burnout - was because no story ever went to waste. We were doing some good work, and it showed. There was value in our work. And the person to determine the value was him, the editor.

I believe it is a credit to the man that as long as he was there, there was no chance for politics. There were no backstabbings or clunky, clumsy maneuverings simply because Alam held the biggest hammer and the only way you can kiss ass is by doing a lot of work. A LOT.

Each person I worked under have different management styles. Some are relaxed, while others are meticulous to the point of generating hatred. Alam's style is mixed. Sometimes, he simply tweaks a few things and your story is out. Other times, I have seen him tear through some people's work and it is not a pretty sight. Whatever it is, we knew that our stuff were in good hands.

I've worked with the man across many different platforms and media. I can safely say that he is the country's most effective creative man, the best that we have, bar none.

He can draw, write, sing, act, host, cook, produce (both albums and TV/movies) and anything else that comes to mind. His Mee Bandung Muar takes 12 hours of preparation - a testament to what kind of a person he is.

Alam intimidates people. Especially insecure ones, because there is no way they can look good when he's around. I do not even consider myself Alam's equal, though with my new age leanings, I recognise that everything and everyone is connected.

We've had our differences and I have worked for years to be out of his shadow - so great is his talent. Nowadays, I am still proud to call him my friend, and to have trained under him - one of, if not the best writers/editors/hosts/producers/singers in Malaysia.

Cheers!

Off the Fasttrack

2011-11-11T01:16:00.002+08:00

I live in a fast world. Everything whizzes by so fast these days, and I am an old man.

Let me ask you a question - when was the iPad launched? Three years ago? Six years ago? Nope. It was last year. June of last year. And yet it feels like it's always been there.

Ideas that seemed revolutionary just a few months or weeks ago are now stale. Lame. Boring. This is why I liked journalism. Every day, it's a new thing, a new story.

I generate and chuck out ideas at an alarming speed. I think of them, fall in love with them, and then I throw them out.

However, while I follow the tempo, the rhythm for idea genesis, I am still a traditionalist when it comes to certain things. I believe that certain things should be meditated on, and for some craft to be allowed time.

Because being fast and pretending to act like you're fast are two extremely different things. If, at the end of the day, you consume the same amount of time to do things properly, why waste time and energy on acting?

Whenever I sit down in front of a keyboard, I turn off all external bullshit. People might be killing each other, bleeding themselves with blunt rulers or some shit, they can say and yell and sing all the fuck they want. I'll be in my world, and in it, time stops, all noise die down. There is absolutely nothing, except myself and my work.

Because, really, fuck everything else. That's all bullshit. All unnecessary, all for the ego. All lies and manipulation. The evils of the world stemming from deep-seated insecurities.

So, take your time. Relax. Take a deep breath, and do whatever. Cause no one and nothing is worth anything. We are all, to quote Tyler Durden, the same all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

Humans are like a virus.

Pornographicology

2011-11-11T00:52:00.003+08:00

One of the more disturbing porn I have seen in recent years was not really porn. I couldn't classify it as that. Not really.

I mean, it has all the necessary fucking. There's one in the beginning which is mostly just nudity, to entice and set things up for the rest of the story. Two fucks in the middle, and one - the pay-off - at the end.

However, the story constantly wanders off to tell the tale about the characters - an old Japanese farmer suffering from dementia who 'milks' his daughter-in-law every morning. He thinks she's a cow called 'Bessie'. The girl allowed him to do so just to go along with his dementia, and also because she, too, wants to fuck him. INCEST!

See, the girl's husband and the farmer's son had died and two of them live alone in a secluded farmhouse that is nearing financial ruin. Both are horny, and you can expect what the finale is a mile away.

What disturbed me were two things. One was that after one daughter of the farmer comes back from the city and gets fucked for cash by an old lover who raped her when she was a teen (sordid past! three-dimensional characters! wow!), we immediately cut from heavy, loud fucking, to a visual of the old man - the farmer - masturbating with a bottle of shampoo/body bath.

I was like, fuck! The juxtaposition of raunchy sex and old man masturbating was disturbing enough, but I disagree more with his choice of lubricant.

Anyway, things happen, characters have arcs, and we get a satisfying resolution to the story, even if there was no fucking (there is). The whole story was, in the end, a meditation on caregiving for the baby boomers, isolation and dementia.

What I can say is that this porn has more depth than most shit I see on TV nowadays, which is the second thing that disturbs me. There is care in the acting, the characterisation and each scene, each shot was lovingly done and created a timeless classic. If I were given enough funds someday to do a movie, I would readily employ these actors - porn stars - to act in my film.

They got it where most people don't. I ended up watching the movie again, and fast-forwarding the sex scenes - who wants to see old men fuck young girls anyway - and enjoying the story, the performance and eventual tragedy of the tale.

Pinku eiga - the period of 'pink cinema' in Japanese porn industry is truly a treasure trove of hidden gems and forgotten, discarded masterpieces.

Pantun Mencarut Tanpa Alasan

2011-11-11T00:27:00.002+08:00

Sorong konek, tarik konek
Biji kelentit dalam perahu
Bapanya borek, anaknya rintik
Emaknya tak pernah mencukur bulu

Konek emas di dalam seluar
Gosok sebiji di atas puki
Pantat mak kau macam kelawar
Ada sayap, telinga dan gigi

Kalau puki, katakan puki
Tidaklah kami menggosok biji
Kalau berlaki, tunjukkan laki
Tidaklah kami menjilat si isteri

Kalau ada puki di ladang
Boleh kami menumpang pantat
Kalau ada biji yang panjang
Itu kelentit, atau ketuat?

Vagabond: Decoder Rings and Toy Swords

2011-11-10T00:02:00.004+08:00

Earlier in life, influenced by tons of manga and anime, I decided to follow the philosophies of the samurai. I was young and stupid. Now, I am slightly older and still as dumb as I was. With one difference - I found out that the Code of Bushido, the Book of Five Rings as written by Miyamoto Musashi himself, was a lie.

There are allegedly historical records saying that the Samurai did not have a death before dishonor code. Far from it. There are accounts, written by the samurai themselves that tells of fort sieges.

It went something like this:

"We laid siege for two weeks, thinking this shit will be over in one. So we went home."

The samurais, with their armies, went home. Death before dishonor my ass. So I wandered the land, a vagabond, shocked at realising that this philosophy was a lie concocted simply because samurais wanted to continue getting an allowance from the Tokugawa government. See, after the Battle of Sekigahara and several other smaller battles, Tokugawa Ieyasu became shogun and united all of Japan. The feudal wars were mostly over and samurais - gods of war during more turbulent times - find themselves hardly relevant in peace times, but continue to receive money from the state. Just in case war breaks out again and Tokugawa needed some generalising.

So there I was, all that was taught me, ultimately, tragically and pathetically, a lie.

Did I lie down and allow myself to be raped by Imperial dogs? No! I decided that if generations of people can subscribe to a lie as a guiding philosophy, so shall I.

I decided to construct my own code, cobbled together from comic books. Tells of the same shit. Honour, loyalty, all that jazz.

Later on in life, I was like, fuck all this shit, and came up with my own code. I have no morals, just a few ethics. And right now, my code tells me I need to go to sleep and get ready for another day tomorrow.

There is no one who can guide me, except myself. There is no one who would listen, except myself. There can be only one truth, and I am the only one who can tell me what it is.

I am Lucifer! Called the Morningstar! And I shall carve my own kingdom with my own hands, and wear my crown upon a troubled brow. By this dick, I rule.

Good Cop, Bad Cop, Cop a Feel

2011-11-05T23:09:00.002+08:00

I was called in the morning today, to see some people about something, and we had a nice chat. During the conversation, I was told that the easiest way to make money in Malaysia nowadays is to advise politicians on their PR strategy, with particular interest on their Internet presence and persona.

So, as the world's greatest Internet image consultant, I was going to display my gargantuan brain by listing out several basic tips on cultivating an effective political online persona.

Instead, I decided to just write about sex education in Malaysian schools.

They say that there is no sex education in school. I beg to differ. I was eight years old, I think, when my Islamic Studies teacher said, "You can't have sex with your wife if she's having her period."

And I was like, "What the fuck is period?"

For years after that, there has been an obsession about periods. Apparently, women in their periods can't fast, can't fuck, can't perform the Haj, have to find other ways to 'pleasure their husbands' and that fucking doggie style is prohibited because Jews fuck from behind. Which leads me to having images of Muslim clerics watching Jewish porn in their offices. Because how else can you know about Jewish sex habits, if not for Jewish porn?

There is no need for sex education in Malaysian schools because, after going through the system, I can safely say that sex is taught quite openly as part of religion. There is an obsession about periods, or bleeding pussies, pregnancies, and taking baths after you have either ejaculated or menstruated, before you can pray and fast and stuff.

Barbaric, you say? Well, what right have you - or anyone - to judge how people want to live their lives?

Look at the liberals - always asking people not to judge them. But they judge those who judge them all the time. How can you preach tolerance when you are intolerant of intolerance?

I asked these questions when I was in my 20s. I'm an old man now. These days, I just laugh at people. And wank.

Prometheus Unbound

2011-11-05T02:40:00.002+08:00

It's 2.40am. Time for some MEGALOMANIA!

YEAH!

I'm the best there is, the best there was and the best there ever will be. The excellence of execution. The cerebral assassin. The king of kings.

Vocare Ad Regnum!

The stealer of wrestlers' hype. The bringer of rain! I am Spartacus, bitch! While you're just a wannabe snitch.

Fuck the haters. They be in the bathroom with their turkey basters, thinking about cellulite-ridden strippers. Talkin' like they be gangsters. Huh. Walk it off, you fucking masturbators!

Humens Must Fight for Freedome!

2011-11-05T00:57:00.002+08:00

Freeeeedom! I'm not making sense, but fuck it. Fuck it!

This is like, what? The fifth blog post? Fuck it!

Magika won at Anugerah Skrin after its earlier victory at FFM. As part of the team that did it, I'm pretty chuffed.

I'd like to do more kids movies. Buttt, we'll see.

More stuff coming. But first, I just want to rest. It's been a long week. With a non-sexual happy ending.

Wrath

2011-11-05T00:51:00.002+08:00

I am pissed off!

For years, I was confused with the shows Webster, starring Emannuel Lewis, and Different Strokes, starring Gary Coleman.

WHat the fuck, man? TV got me confused between two midget black people.

Soapbox: PPSMI

2011-11-05T00:16:00.002+08:00

Well, suddenly I am getting requests to write about the PPSMI issue. Since Magika won best film - again! - this time at Anugerah Skrin 2011, I guess I'll just comment on the issue.

My main concern is for the Government not to flip-flop on their decision on PPSMI. If you want Malaysian kids to study maths and science in English, then keep it that way. If you want them to study in BM, then keep it that way. FOREVER.

Any leader that flip-flops is a weak leader, Uncle Najib. Make a stand, and hold your ground. FOREVER.

Fuck being a populist. A populist is a dumbass who sways according to whoever last told him/her off. And you don't even have to be shouting and yelling in an angry voice to have a backbone. Just relax, clear your head, and stand your ground.

Because this shit is not scientific. Opponents to PPSMI cite shortage of textbooks. Well, call me! Give me a fat, juicy Government contract and I'll furnish every child of primary and secondary school age in Malaysia with books. Add enough money, and I'll do it double time.

If I'm no good, get someone else. Within 10 years, the shortage of textbooks can be solved.

I have always believed that learning other languages is key to opening your minds up to stuff and shit. I believe that every one in Malaysia, regardless of age, should take up an extra language, constantly, on top of what they already know.

I'm going to polish up on my Japanese soon. I don't give a shit.

Also, I believe that people who blame everything on education as fucktards. Education is NOT the magic bullet.

I come from a swamp. Blah blah blah. What I saw was poverty all around me. No matter what language you teach them kids, it won't make a difference if other shit are blasting their influence on them from all sides, 24 hours a day.

And while they're at it, some don't have enough nutritious food to even keep their brains alive.

Food, shelter, clothes. Those three first. THEN we talk education.

The task of improving our citizens will not be solved with a temporary Government edict. It will take generations, and the first step is admitting that yes, Malaysians are not that rich.

In KL, you can splurge on a lot of shit. You can spend RM25 on a pint of Hoegaarden. You can buy RM100 single-plate meals. Or pay RM1,000 per head to eat chrysanthemum tempura. What the fuck are the rural folks eating?

I believe that if we disregard the welfare of the poor, the really poor kids will come and rob us in 10 years. They will rape us, kill us and take all our shit. They will not discriminate between the rich (Francis Yeoh) and the barely-made-it (me). Because they would have nothing left to lose.

So PPSMI is an issue, yes, but I believe it is hardly the gravest issue. Neither is sexual equality the gravest issue this country is facing. I believe that we have to tackle poverty FIRST. And get food to these people. Food, for 10 years, vocational training for the next 20, and THEN education 30 years down the line. Or everything at the same time.

A sustained effort for the next 50 years MIGHT make a DENT. Anything else? Is bullshit.

Soapbox: Two Straight Guys Talk About Malaysian Homer-Sexuality

2011-11-04T23:24:00.003+08:00

So after a long but fun day, I went to have Thai food with one of my close friends.

We're both straight, but somehow the conversation turned to Seksualiti Merdeka - Malaysia's premier gender and sexuality equality rights movement.

Friend: So, this Seksualiti Merdeka thing.

Me: Yeah?

F: What do they want?

Me: Gender equality, I think.

F: You mean, feminism?

Me: No, I mean, well, maybe feminism too, but more like sexual equality.

F: Like what?

Me: I dunno, dude, I'm not gay. I am perhaps reflective of straight ignorance of LGBT struggle.

F: There's a struggle?

Me: I think so.

F: But you started STRET - Straights Towards real Equality and Things - in support of gay rights. What do these gays want?

Me: I'm not really sure, but I support them all the same. Why are you so interested? Are you gay?

F: No, but our friend M*** asked me to ask you.

Me: Why? Do you guys think I'm gay?

F: No, but, you know, you have more gay friends than I do. Are they oppressed?

Me: I... think so. I believe that their plight is more implied. More psychological, more administrative, with some outbursts of physical stuff.

F: Like what? Were they beaten up?

Me: I believe that the chances that some were is very high. Though since there has been no credible research that has been made public, that I know of, I really can't say.

F: I never read about them in the papers.

Me: Look, you're an atheist. Do you feel oppressed? From our majority God-fearing community?

F: Sometimes.

Me: Okay, now I believe that it is not fair for us to assume what the LGBTQWERTY whatever community is up against, since we are not them.

F: Well, they did get Ambiga... which seems fishy.

Me: Why? That they turned to someone who recently made a successful commotion?

F: But why would they want a commotion? Why do they want attention?

Me: I believe that their stories are not getting enough exposure. If I was in their shoes, I'd get everyone, PLUS Ambiga.

F: What's the story?

Me: Maybe that's what they're trying to tell us.

F: You don't think they are just trying to force people to accept them?

Me: I don't know, dude.

F: Lots of things you don't know.

Me: To be fair, I haven't even heard fully what Seksualiti Merdeka - a subset of the LGBT community - is really complaining about. And maybe that IS their point - to put across their point. To people like us. Who don't know what they want.

F: I don't give a shit whether they're gay or not. They get the same treatment from me as everyone else.

Me: I'm sure.

F: What do you think they want? Gay marriage?

Me: Maybe later? I think it's just awareness and creating a support system, not turning straight people into gays.

F: Yeah, that turning people gay thing is bullshit.

I left for home feeling uncomfortable. I believe that everyone should be allowed to express whatever they want, IF THEY WANT TO. Seksualiti Merdeka does not represent the entire gay community, IMHO. They represent a people, trying to express their freedom of speech. Above all else, I believe in freedom.

I am increasingly asked by people concerning Seksualiti Merdeka. I am not sure why. I must state that I am STRAIGHT. Yes, I do watch musicals and am in touch with my emotions, and I am straight.

I do not agree with some of the thinking behind some people, who believe that fighting oppression and discrimination will make it go away. It simply, IMHO, makes it stronger and for the lines dividing us easier to see.

However, if that is the message that any group wants to convey, then I believe we either should help, or get out the way.

The problem with freedom of speech is that you must also allow and/or protect the kind of speech you don't agree with.

I believe that there are more things that make us similar, that binds us together - in a non-liberal way - than things that keep us apart. I believe that everyone and everything is connected. That winning and losing are two sides of the same coin.

And that ultimately, if you are aware and awakened, you will understand that the weapon to end all wars and hatred is not ego or emotion, but acceptance of the world and the nature of the people that God has created.

I hate liars. I hate racists. I hate insecure people. I hate idiots. And if I am strong enough, if I am wise enough, I will find myself in them and open my hearts to them.

But seriously? Fuck Apple zealots.

Nominated!

2011-11-04T21:46:00.002+08:00

I got home from dinner and called my mother. She gleefully told me that I had lost in Anugerah Skrin 2011 for both Magika and Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa in the script category.

I was smiling all the way, though, as really, being nominated is enough. I wasn't even aware of the nominations till today, when KRU called me up, and another team, which did the documentary on Yuen Yuet Leng also told me that the docu was up for an award at Skrin.

Even though the movies lost, the documentary won. Muahahahaha! Yeahoo!

This is a step up from FFM. My name was not nominated at all at FFM, but at least my name is there for ASK 2011.

And my team won for the documentary. Muahahaha!

Yeah! I mean, that's what my producer told me just now.

Yuen Yuet Leng is one of Melaysia's living legends. He fought the Communists, became Perak Chief of Police and Sarawak Police Commissioner. I had fun interviewing him. He's like a Malaysian James Bond.

Anyway, I'll savour the moment of being nominated for a while. It's been a great day. Yeah!

I, Amazo

2011-11-04T02:29:00.004+08:00

I'm trying to sleep early because I want to wake up early tomorrow, but I keep waking up.

This time, things just fucking clicked, and I just figured out some shit. I am such a fucking genius! No wonder people are constantly threatened and scared of me.

I amaze myself again. Hahaha! This is the answer to everything! MYreka! I look at myself in the mirror, and discovered that not only am I ruggedly handsome, I am also a fucking genius!

I should pose in the middle of the night, on a building, dressed as a bat.

Someone like me only exists every billion years or so. I pity the lesser primates who call themselves humans.

Dang, I am so fucking smart.

Lull

2011-11-04T00:14:00.002+08:00

I just woke up from a two-hour nap. It was a restless sleep, but as soon as I woke up from a dream involving weird Japanese TV shows, I felt good and calm again.

Lots of things are happening, and people close to me are going through some tough times. In fact, almost all of them are. My first instinct is of course to help, but I remember now that I am no longer a superhero.

I can't save anyone and the best thing I can do is take care of myself and make sure no one has to worry about me.

There are lots of distraction and I haven't been writing much. All the bullshit will soon pass and I'll be at the keyboards again. I'll be reading again and writing again.

I'll be telling stories again, because at the end of it all, that is all I can do.

Hey, it can't rain all the time.

Now, back to weird Japanese shows.

Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Inherit

2011-11-03T21:31:00.001+08:00

Bedtime

2011-11-03T20:40:00.001+08:00

I'm trying to reschedule my sleeping, so I'm going to bed soon. There's nothing to watch on TV anyway, so fuck you guys!

Rerun: Doing Content for a Brave New World

2011-11-02T21:02:00.002+08:00

Despite my cheering of the Internet, I'm basically a traditionalist. I'm old school when it comes to writing.

The reason being I was influenced at an early age by classic articles in Reader's Digest. And I believe that since everything goes in cycles, the style would be fresh again very soon, when the current generation comes into power.

They would never have been exposed - most of them anyway - to the style of yesteryear. And after all that focus on the youth, old school will be cool again. If old people live long enough, they will be cool again.

The old school style I like so much can be explained as a hat-wearing, suit-donning 1950s guy who knows what a shoehorn is.

Fuck, man, I'm very bad at explaining styles. Okay, it's like when that boyband sang Uptown Girl, or when Michael Buble did covers of classics. Josh Groban singing Somewhere over the Rainbows for Oprah's farewell.

See, a style is a mentality, a personality. You embody that personality, or you showcase a side of you - becoming a simplified version of yourself - and you speak as that character.

Yeah, yeah, you can say I'm wanking but it's true, it's true. I've met really raucous and lewd people whose writing style is very dignified. All writers I ever knew, are different from their styles. It's an act, a performance. Writers are actors, telling a story.

Ah, fuck it. Time to shut up and write. Fuck off!

Rerun

2011-11-02T01:59:00.000+08:00

More than a year ago, Ralph Simon - the 'father of ringtones' and Lady Gaga's Internet advisor (please note that Lady Gaga is NUMBER ONE on Twitter and maybe Facebook) - finally articulated RIGHT HERE IN MALAYSIA what I believe is the single most important point concerning traditional, and new media.

"Ask old media - Fox, Universal Pictures, Sony Music, Rupert Murdoch - what is their product, and they would immediately say, 'content'," said the small man at PICC. "Ask Facebook and Google, what their product is, and they would tell you it's 'users'."

Which makes a damn lot of sense. If you ask Mark Zuckerberg, 'what is Facebook's primary selling point'? He's not going to answer, "Uhhh... we have location tagging and big blue buttons." No. He's going to say, "Facebook has over 750 million users, and growing."

Or something like that.

Traditional media is dying out and as part of the generation that helped destroy it, I feel damn fucking proud.

Actually, it's not destroyed. I believe I will die first before Ted Turner. Because Ted Turner is Captain Planet.

You can't fight the Internet on content. Nosirree. I don't believe that you can 'fight'. You can only add to the ocean of content. That's all.

News entities that want to fight the Internet will one day die like a fucking beached whale. Once all the newspaper readers die off in 20-50 years, that's it. You're dead.

And people who try to sell content online as what traditional media has done for the past couple of hundred years are merely doing what that old dude was doing. Roll the boulder up the hill, and watch it slide down again. Roll it up, slide down again.

On the Internet, you don't sell content. You sell user experience to users, and then you sell your numbers to advertisers.

For years, YEARS, I have been telling newspaper people that the ONLY way to make newspapers relevant again is to hand over the control of the paper to the people.

Have them vote on what comes out on the front page. Is it Najib? Is it Rosmah's imaginary diamond ring? Is it Anwar (allegedly) fucking someone in the ass again? Is it a pothole in Balakong? Everybody decides.

Okay, fine, maybe not the front page, but the inner pages.

Get people involved in news creation. Create a sense of ownership for newspapers, by the people. It's their fucking paper. The user experience generated by that would be so fucking tremendous and awesome, that I guaran-damn-tee that readership will increase by SIX BILLION readers.

Newspaper companies would have to cut down all the forests in the world, and everyone would die for lack of oxygen in TWO WEEKS. TWO WEEKS!

You know why I thought of this? Cause:

1. Nobody wants to read anything except their own writing and people who agree with them. Fuck facts. Fuck information. You tell them something they don't like, and they hate you for it. Even if it is true. Like, "The Opposition are just dumb racist fucks who want to embezzle even MORE money than the present Government."

2. News agencies waste a lot of time and resources sending reporters to cover areas where nothing happens. It's like, "Go cover Sepang and see if there's any landslide in two weeks." "Duhhhhh..." "Fuck you! Go cover 'em now!"

Of course, nothing happens and everything is a giant waste of time. And resources.

Instead, why don't we get people to suggest and vote for shit they want covered.

"Say, my daughter is graduating ballet next week. Can you cover that shit?"

"Fuck you, old man! There's a pothole behind my house and I want it covered right now."

Then, we go for a vote where ballet recital gets 1 vote, pothole gets 1 vote and Najib's Budget gets 200 billion votes. Fuck you, ballet recital.

During the days when we were all fighting against alleged control of the media, we all criticised how only a handful determines what comes out in newspapers and on TV. Well, my model breaks the game.

I've been yelling this on my blog since 2003. I've spoken to Government-linked and opposition-linked news outlets. ALL of them I believe - and this is only my own personal opinion - are afraid of relinquishing control.

Bros, Sistas, you never had any goddamn control since 1984? 1983? When the public Internet was born. You lost the grips fully when alt.news was all we had to share news and shit. You lost the battle on IRC. You got KOed for the billionth time, with FB and Twitter.

There is no control. There never was.

So just learn to let go.

Nowadays, I hear even the self-proclaimed information revolutionaries run their mouths with their silly little marketing slogans. They know something's coming, but they don't know jack shit what.

For us content people? Well, there's always a need for writers. For journalists. ESPECIALLY when everyone is a journalist. Look at Tyra Banks and her America's Next Top Model. Opening up the industry of modelling, telling people HOW to model properly did not destroy modelling, but simply increased appreciation for the discipline.

Sharing their recipes did not bankrupt Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver. Hell, they're worth more now than they ever were. Cause you can know the secrets, you can have all the tools, but nobody bakes Beef Wellington like Gordon Ramsay. Nobody can take pictures like Ansel Adams.

Writers and journalists who are afraid to share the techniques and tools of their craft are one-trick ponies and frauds afraid of being exposed. If you're really that damn good, you would share your knowledge.

I have shared what little I know of screenwriting with anyone who showed an interest. You know how many people actually wrote a script based on my advice? ZERO. I guess some people merely love the idea, and wanted to know about the process. They didn't really want to write.

I believe that opening up journalism and writing fully will elevate it into an art-form. Finally. Because it is an art-form.

And as an artist, a fucking rock star, I should be paid by the billions.

So good night, good luck, and fuck you.

Dumb Polarity and Transparent Roofs

2011-10-31T23:19:00.004+08:00

Several weeks ago, somebody tried to explain to me the concept of fan-fiction.

"And if we don't like what happened in the series, we CHANGE them!"

I had to pick up my jaws from the centre of the earth.

The fact that some people consider fan-fiction to be a cool, hip new idea is as shocking as being electrocuted by all the lightnings that have ever hit earth, in my ass. The fact that they would think I wouldn't know what fan-fiction - and how lame it is - is doubly so.

Well, I shouldn't have been that shocked I get this from people. I believe that people generally think I'm stupid, because they keep on lying to me and doing as well as saying stupid things in front of me. I'm like a dumb magnet or something.

Anyway, last night, I dreamed I was back in Kuantan. To be more precise, I was in my front yard. Or on my front yard. Whatever.

So, I was standing there, and I noticed that on the power lines, there were these weird contraptions. And I knew, as we know for certain in dreams, that these things were put there by aliens. There was this impending dread of aliens.

The sky turned dark.

I went inside my house, and then the roof and ceiling became transparent and I saw these flying saucers with tentacles under them.

They began abducting humans through transparent roofs.

All this while, in my head, only one thought stood out amidst all this dread: "Huh. Flying saucers. That's a bit cliched, right?"

Ah, well. Hopefully, tonight I will dream of something more... pleasant.