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.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
Sex!
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.
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
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!"
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Principles, Vagina and Coke
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.
There.
Now to sleep.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Dreams and Portents: From Singapore (And Sometimes Hong Kong) With Whatever
Caption: PICTURE IS UNRELATEDAnd 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.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Bandar Dosa: Syaitan Mengaji Pada Dini Hari
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.
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
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.
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.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
House of M
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.
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.
Friday, December 23, 2011
I Dream of Electric Sheep
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.
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.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Malaysian Psycho: Jung and Freud
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.
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
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.
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
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Malaysian Psycho
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.
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.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Heroes of Might and Magic
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.
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.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Lepasan Arhat: Hikmat Kitaran Asura
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!
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
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.
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.
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Madness of Crowds
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Judging People Using Top Schools
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)