Imbas Kembali Kisah Dahulu:
Ketika, aku, berjalan-jalan. Koteku terasa gatal -
Sundal: Ko nak pergi mana tu?
Aku: Menanam hatiku yang luka.
Aku pun berlari masuk dalam rumah (yang baru dibersihkan), tanggal semua baju dan seluar, kemudian masuk dalam tandas.
Aku: Hikmat Menanam Hatiku yang Luka! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
20 minit kemudian.
Aku: Eh? Kenapa hati aku cair? Adakah kerana makan pedas banyak sangat, atau sebab semalam aku dah berlawan dengan demam?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Super Robot Spirits
I think I am recovering from this fever. It only stayed in my system for about five hours, before I started sweating - meaning my body no longer considers itself under threat and has decided to lower its temperature. It only raised my temperature so some antibodies would work better.
Fevers and flus rarely stay in my system for more than a few hours. The exceptions are the really nasty ones. I attribute this to my Super Robot Spirit.
I am a fan of Super Robot anime. And my character is the same as the fiery, straight dude, with a strong sense of justice.
Unfortunately, my battle with the fever has cost me my energy. If I don't get some rest soon, there is a possibility that other flu viruses might attack me. So, good night.
Fevers and flus rarely stay in my system for more than a few hours. The exceptions are the really nasty ones. I attribute this to my Super Robot Spirit.
I am a fan of Super Robot anime. And my character is the same as the fiery, straight dude, with a strong sense of justice.
Unfortunately, my battle with the fever has cost me my energy. If I don't get some rest soon, there is a possibility that other flu viruses might attack me. So, good night.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sunday Night... FEVER?
My temperature is rising. I might develop a fever soon.
But knowing my body's resistance to disease and dirt, it is possible to fight it off using craziness.
I mean, KRRRRRAZIIIIINESSSSS!!!
No disease has ever killed me... yet. I am living testimony of all the bugs and viruses and bacteria that have tried and failed - miserably.
You can't kill me, motherfucker. Only the good die young, and I am THE Ancient Spirit of Evil.
My back is shivering. My throat is parched, kinda scratchy. My shoulders are weak and there is a slight throbbing pain.
I will beat this fever like I bitch-slapped the ancient pagan Arab gods Al-Latta and Al-Uzza.
Temperature control is vital. My mind is slipping. I will be a bit delirious for around 10 hours. Shouldn't be writing. Or I might let slip the secrets to the universe.
Muahahahahaha!
But knowing my body's resistance to disease and dirt, it is possible to fight it off using craziness.
I mean, KRRRRRAZIIIIINESSSSS!!!
No disease has ever killed me... yet. I am living testimony of all the bugs and viruses and bacteria that have tried and failed - miserably.
You can't kill me, motherfucker. Only the good die young, and I am THE Ancient Spirit of Evil.
My back is shivering. My throat is parched, kinda scratchy. My shoulders are weak and there is a slight throbbing pain.
I will beat this fever like I bitch-slapped the ancient pagan Arab gods Al-Latta and Al-Uzza.
Temperature control is vital. My mind is slipping. I will be a bit delirious for around 10 hours. Shouldn't be writing. Or I might let slip the secrets to the universe.
Muahahahahaha!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
I Had a Dream
I just woke up from a nap, and I, had a dream.
I invited some girls to spend the night at my place, and I was lying down with one of them in front of the TV.
There was a ghost or a monster in the living room, but I wasn't terrified. I was annoyed.
And then, I was walking to work, only the road was the stretch between Nana Station and Nana Plaza, in Bangkok.
I argued with myself on whether or not I should stop for lunch at KFC, as all KFCs in Bangkok are halal, or to continue to my office.
I decided to walk on, as I couldn't find the door to the KFC restaurant, only ending up on grey concrete cul-de-sacs.
I found cheap open-air stalls that sell shoes and socks. I suddenly realised that I was wearing sandals, so I debated with myself on whether or not to buy a pair of shoes and socks or just fake it with a pair of socks only, as I haven't been paid my salary yet and was only surviving on loans from people.
I decided to check out the prices first. Quickly and quietly, as Najib was in the next stall, and for some reason, I did not want him to see me.
There was a pair of shoes I thought was adequate, but the price was RM2190. So I decided to get a pair of socks instead.
They didn't have anything I liked, and the only one that made sense was RM690.
I was like, "Man, things are so expensive these days."
And then I woke up.
I invited some girls to spend the night at my place, and I was lying down with one of them in front of the TV.
There was a ghost or a monster in the living room, but I wasn't terrified. I was annoyed.
And then, I was walking to work, only the road was the stretch between Nana Station and Nana Plaza, in Bangkok.
I argued with myself on whether or not I should stop for lunch at KFC, as all KFCs in Bangkok are halal, or to continue to my office.
I decided to walk on, as I couldn't find the door to the KFC restaurant, only ending up on grey concrete cul-de-sacs.
I found cheap open-air stalls that sell shoes and socks. I suddenly realised that I was wearing sandals, so I debated with myself on whether or not to buy a pair of shoes and socks or just fake it with a pair of socks only, as I haven't been paid my salary yet and was only surviving on loans from people.
I decided to check out the prices first. Quickly and quietly, as Najib was in the next stall, and for some reason, I did not want him to see me.
There was a pair of shoes I thought was adequate, but the price was RM2190. So I decided to get a pair of socks instead.
They didn't have anything I liked, and the only one that made sense was RM690.
I was like, "Man, things are so expensive these days."
And then I woke up.
The Mythical Man-Month
Brooks' Law states that adding more people to a late project only makes it later.
It can be simplified like this: "Nine women can't make a baby in one month."
This is for software projects, and I read about it in college, but I believe it can be applied to anything that needs a rapid turnover within short deadlines.
The concept is simple. I took some of this from Wikipedia.
1. It takes some time for the people added to a project to become productive. Brooks calls this the "ramp up" time. When you add people to a project, they need to be brought up to speed by existing project members. This will cost time for the new additions, as well as the originals. Mistakes will be made. Clarification, repeat clarification, as the new ones and the originals adapt to each other. Social dynamics will change. This will all take time.
2. Communication overheads increase as the number of people increases. The number of different communication channels increases along with the square of the number of people; doubling the number of people results in four times as many different conversations. Everyone working on the same task needs to keep in sync, so as more people are added they spend more time trying to find out what everyone else is doing.
Managers of people need to be aware of Brooks' Law. If they want to add anyone anywhere in their organisation, or move them around, they need to be able to foresee how timing will be affected.
People talk about optimising all the time. Like say, a plant has four machines producing 200 cans of bullshit an hour. Purchasing a new machine will get you 50 more cans in an hour. People are not machines, and even with machines, there is downtime with maintenance and other complications. Can the supply queue get stuff to the fifth machine in time? When the machine is down, what do you do with a queue that is optimised for five machines? Can the other four handle the extra load?
My motherboard busted one capacitor, which in time became four capacitors, incapacitating the whole motherboard. This is because the loss of one capacitor burned out the other three that had to take its load.
Brooks' Law said that adding people to the beginning of the process, not in the later stages, have come up with better results. I am inclined to agree with him. All the ramp up time associated with added personnel can be offset with the performance we get from experienced and knowledgable workers at the end.
Oh well. Just thinking.
It can be simplified like this: "Nine women can't make a baby in one month."
This is for software projects, and I read about it in college, but I believe it can be applied to anything that needs a rapid turnover within short deadlines.
The concept is simple. I took some of this from Wikipedia.
1. It takes some time for the people added to a project to become productive. Brooks calls this the "ramp up" time. When you add people to a project, they need to be brought up to speed by existing project members. This will cost time for the new additions, as well as the originals. Mistakes will be made. Clarification, repeat clarification, as the new ones and the originals adapt to each other. Social dynamics will change. This will all take time.
2. Communication overheads increase as the number of people increases. The number of different communication channels increases along with the square of the number of people; doubling the number of people results in four times as many different conversations. Everyone working on the same task needs to keep in sync, so as more people are added they spend more time trying to find out what everyone else is doing.
Managers of people need to be aware of Brooks' Law. If they want to add anyone anywhere in their organisation, or move them around, they need to be able to foresee how timing will be affected.
People talk about optimising all the time. Like say, a plant has four machines producing 200 cans of bullshit an hour. Purchasing a new machine will get you 50 more cans in an hour. People are not machines, and even with machines, there is downtime with maintenance and other complications. Can the supply queue get stuff to the fifth machine in time? When the machine is down, what do you do with a queue that is optimised for five machines? Can the other four handle the extra load?
My motherboard busted one capacitor, which in time became four capacitors, incapacitating the whole motherboard. This is because the loss of one capacitor burned out the other three that had to take its load.
Brooks' Law said that adding people to the beginning of the process, not in the later stages, have come up with better results. I am inclined to agree with him. All the ramp up time associated with added personnel can be offset with the performance we get from experienced and knowledgable workers at the end.
Oh well. Just thinking.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Sound and the Fury
A tale told full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
The struggle. The pain. Oh, the drama. And in the end? Nothing. We are back at the same point in the circle. The karmic wheel.
When the wheel spins, you don't want to be on the edge. Cause you will be most affected by the highs and the lows.
Find the center, and no matter where the wheel revolves, you will always be in balance.
Oh well. We live and learn.
As for me, I live, and play Super Robot Wars Alpha.
The struggle. The pain. Oh, the drama. And in the end? Nothing. We are back at the same point in the circle. The karmic wheel.
When the wheel spins, you don't want to be on the edge. Cause you will be most affected by the highs and the lows.
Find the center, and no matter where the wheel revolves, you will always be in balance.
Oh well. We live and learn.
As for me, I live, and play Super Robot Wars Alpha.
Tales from the Drunk Side: Surprise Buttsecks!
I just got back from a place, and I am quite lugubrious at the moment.
So I'm gonna get right down to the chase.
My expectations are very low. If I can breathe tomorrow, that's a fucking miracle. If I can walk, or take a dump, that's fucking fantastic. The fact that I survived this long in whatever industry, in whatever discipline, has always amazed me. And this is not some fake humility bullshit.
See, I come from a swamp. My kampung was, and still is, a motherfucking swamp. I'm a Swamp Thing, motherfucker.
My friends growing up, used to kill fucking snakes for fun. These kids, right, I don't join them that much, cause they're dirty and could never fully understand what the fuck I was talking about.
They'd go out, right, and they kill birds with slingshots. And then, despite them not having enough to eat, they'd come to my house, and offer me half of their dozen.
They grow up, and the only profession that is available, is to be a drug addict. A lot of my childhood friends ended up dead, crippled or simply fucked up. I saw that when I was eight.
So I was like, "I got to get out of here, motherfucker!" I don't want to end up dead at 22, or dribble all over my face cause I got into a motorcycle accident. I don't want to be 40 and have six kids I can't pay for.
So I ran. And I'm still running.
I left home when I was 12. Got into a full-residential school. Government -sponsored, right? I had clear and smooth sailing, right? WRONG! I had to watch my ass for five years.
You try that for a week, and tell me you'd rather be a KL kid with RM400 bucks in your pockets to buy fucking Yu-Gi-Oh cards.
I took insane risks. Made lots of mistakes. Learned and is learning from some of them. I lived in pain for most of my adult life. Worshipped pain. So don't you bullshit me about pain, motherfucker. I have been through some shit, and I have seen and heard people go through even worse.
WORSE!
I mean, the biggest annoyance to me this week was getting a call from my mother, asking me about the history of Planta Margarine. That, and another person asking me whether USB is the same as MP3.
Spoke to one guy tonight, and his main problem was that he lost his job. The fuck is he going to feed his kids with? The fuck he's going to tell his wife? Fuck, man.
Some of you might say, "Well, not my problem."
Correct. You are right. Not your problem. Not mine, either. But to empathise is one of the greatest skills you can acquire. If you understand, or at least have an inkling to how people work, then whatever you do in life, can be more efficient and optimised.
Thinking only of yourself, will get you nowhere. I saw people get nowhere, or find dead ends at the end of the rainbow. Why? Cause they thought being in pain is the surest way to success.
Ekkk! Been there. Done that.
Don't take my word for it. Even if you do, there is a difference between knowing, and living it. Somebody told me that years ago. It took me this long to understand what that meant. There is absolutely no course you can take and pay for, that can substitute for real life experience. And it is not the years, but the miles that matter.
That being said, knowledge is power. Books, courses, philosophies, are great because your turnaround time can be faster. When ideas - when those images in your head - gel with what's actually happening, you will know what to do. You will know how to react, or how not to react.
The greatest lesson I have learned so far is very simple. Be happy. Not fake happy. Just, happy. And it is a choice. Unconditionally happy.
I know it's damn near impossible for you fake fuckers out there. You fucking pain-worshippers. You fucking creatures of Desire.
And one more thing. Dreams are everything, but Desire is poison. Never get trapped in that quagmire. That bullshit. I have seen good men fall into its bleakest, blackest pit, and they never come out. For Desire's twin, is Despair. No matter what you lust after, in the end, you will face Despair. Disappointment.
Even in victory, that bullshit is never satisfied.
And you don't have to tell me that I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.
So I'm gonna get right down to the chase.
My expectations are very low. If I can breathe tomorrow, that's a fucking miracle. If I can walk, or take a dump, that's fucking fantastic. The fact that I survived this long in whatever industry, in whatever discipline, has always amazed me. And this is not some fake humility bullshit.
See, I come from a swamp. My kampung was, and still is, a motherfucking swamp. I'm a Swamp Thing, motherfucker.
My friends growing up, used to kill fucking snakes for fun. These kids, right, I don't join them that much, cause they're dirty and could never fully understand what the fuck I was talking about.
They'd go out, right, and they kill birds with slingshots. And then, despite them not having enough to eat, they'd come to my house, and offer me half of their dozen.
They grow up, and the only profession that is available, is to be a drug addict. A lot of my childhood friends ended up dead, crippled or simply fucked up. I saw that when I was eight.
So I was like, "I got to get out of here, motherfucker!" I don't want to end up dead at 22, or dribble all over my face cause I got into a motorcycle accident. I don't want to be 40 and have six kids I can't pay for.
So I ran. And I'm still running.
I left home when I was 12. Got into a full-residential school. Government -sponsored, right? I had clear and smooth sailing, right? WRONG! I had to watch my ass for five years.
You try that for a week, and tell me you'd rather be a KL kid with RM400 bucks in your pockets to buy fucking Yu-Gi-Oh cards.
I took insane risks. Made lots of mistakes. Learned and is learning from some of them. I lived in pain for most of my adult life. Worshipped pain. So don't you bullshit me about pain, motherfucker. I have been through some shit, and I have seen and heard people go through even worse.
WORSE!
I mean, the biggest annoyance to me this week was getting a call from my mother, asking me about the history of Planta Margarine. That, and another person asking me whether USB is the same as MP3.
Spoke to one guy tonight, and his main problem was that he lost his job. The fuck is he going to feed his kids with? The fuck he's going to tell his wife? Fuck, man.
Some of you might say, "Well, not my problem."
Correct. You are right. Not your problem. Not mine, either. But to empathise is one of the greatest skills you can acquire. If you understand, or at least have an inkling to how people work, then whatever you do in life, can be more efficient and optimised.
Thinking only of yourself, will get you nowhere. I saw people get nowhere, or find dead ends at the end of the rainbow. Why? Cause they thought being in pain is the surest way to success.
Ekkk! Been there. Done that.
Don't take my word for it. Even if you do, there is a difference between knowing, and living it. Somebody told me that years ago. It took me this long to understand what that meant. There is absolutely no course you can take and pay for, that can substitute for real life experience. And it is not the years, but the miles that matter.
That being said, knowledge is power. Books, courses, philosophies, are great because your turnaround time can be faster. When ideas - when those images in your head - gel with what's actually happening, you will know what to do. You will know how to react, or how not to react.
The greatest lesson I have learned so far is very simple. Be happy. Not fake happy. Just, happy. And it is a choice. Unconditionally happy.
I know it's damn near impossible for you fake fuckers out there. You fucking pain-worshippers. You fucking creatures of Desire.
And one more thing. Dreams are everything, but Desire is poison. Never get trapped in that quagmire. That bullshit. I have seen good men fall into its bleakest, blackest pit, and they never come out. For Desire's twin, is Despair. No matter what you lust after, in the end, you will face Despair. Disappointment.
Even in victory, that bullshit is never satisfied.
And you don't have to tell me that I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Let the Freedom Bell Ring!
Free at last! Free at last!
Man, this PC is good. I have polished everything up till the final climactic battle scene of a treatment/breakdown. This movie will work better when I get the dialogues and screen-play elements in.
That battle scene, I will leave for tomorrow, when I am fresh.
For now, sleep awaits.
Before that, I need to tinker around with the video card driver.
Meanwhile, a world away, two guys sold a script to Jerry Bruckheimer and Disney for US$3.5 million.
Here's the story: Click here, idiot!
Everyone in Hollywood has a screenplay. Theirs is another world. Where 30 second advertising spots on TV can cost around US$1 million or more. And according to Sex in a Submarine, the recent Lost finale sold the ad spots for US$900,000. With 45 minutes of ads, that's a whopping US$81 million.
Nowhere near Avatar's over US$2 billion gross, but hey, do YOU have US$81 billion?
Which brings us to perspective. I mean, there are things to fight for, and I would probably commit murder for US$81 million and sell my ass and throw in a couple of murders for US$2 billion, ask yourself this: is anything you do worth it?
I mean, really, now. All that drama? For? What?
Man, this PC is good. I have polished everything up till the final climactic battle scene of a treatment/breakdown. This movie will work better when I get the dialogues and screen-play elements in.
That battle scene, I will leave for tomorrow, when I am fresh.
For now, sleep awaits.
Before that, I need to tinker around with the video card driver.
Meanwhile, a world away, two guys sold a script to Jerry Bruckheimer and Disney for US$3.5 million.
Here's the story: Click here, idiot!
Everyone in Hollywood has a screenplay. Theirs is another world. Where 30 second advertising spots on TV can cost around US$1 million or more. And according to Sex in a Submarine, the recent Lost finale sold the ad spots for US$900,000. With 45 minutes of ads, that's a whopping US$81 million.
Nowhere near Avatar's over US$2 billion gross, but hey, do YOU have US$81 billion?
Which brings us to perspective. I mean, there are things to fight for, and I would probably commit murder for US$81 million and sell my ass and throw in a couple of murders for US$2 billion, ask yourself this: is anything you do worth it?
I mean, really, now. All that drama? For? What?
The Demon Writer of Bangsar: At Last! My Arm is Complete Again!
It feels good to have my PC up and running again. I feel invincible. Complete. I can now take on worlds. And eat them up. And create new ones.
This new motherboard is smaller, but faster. Plus, all its capacitors are intact. I never knew how attached I was to it until it was gone for a while. I love my PC.
As a whole, though going through a few upgrades, this system has stayed with me for seven years. The DVD-ROM, which is due to be replaced, has been with me since 1999. That's longer than most relationships.
Love it, love it, love it.
Thanks to all who helped.
Cheers!
This new motherboard is smaller, but faster. Plus, all its capacitors are intact. I never knew how attached I was to it until it was gone for a while. I love my PC.
As a whole, though going through a few upgrades, this system has stayed with me for seven years. The DVD-ROM, which is due to be replaced, has been with me since 1999. That's longer than most relationships.
Love it, love it, love it.
Thanks to all who helped.
Cheers!
Kuih Bangkit!
AKu menulis ni, sambil mengambil masa rehat daripada projek filem aku yang berikutnya. AKu menulis pakai komputer aku yang sudah dihidupkan semula oleh sumbangan penerbit filem yang memberikan aku motherboard baru.
Dia offer untuk ganti apa-apa saja yang rosak, dan walaupun power supply unit dan motherboard aku rosak, dan aku perlukan water-cooling system, aku cuma mintak motherboard sahaja. PSU ni nanti aku beli lepas masuk gaji.
Hujung bulan, beb. AKu pokai jugak lah. Cukuplah nak makan dan beli rokok, pastu bayar bil eletrik yang dah keluar surat kaler merah.
AKu terharu jugaklah. Pasal kerja aku ni memang tak dapat apa-apa penghargaan biasanya. Kat FFM pun, dia kasi kat Lakon Layar Terbaik. Best Screenplay. Lakon layar biasanya dibuat sama ada oleh pengarah atau pengarah dan penulis skrip, pasal ada jugak yang akan diubah di set. Setakat skrip, apalah yang boleh dibanggakan?
Tapi, aku memang tak cari benda nak bangga. Takde benda aku nak buktikan, pasal kerja aku buktinya sendiri. Kalau buruk, buruk lah. Kalau bagus, baguslah.
Aku sebenarnya, awal tahun ni, aku rasa macam terkandas kat tengah lautan. Takde pendayung, takde kemudi.
Kemudian, aku tengok benda-benda yang membangkitkan semangat aku balik. Namron blah daripada Aswara, walaupun ditawarkan kontrak baru. Dia berani melawan apa yang dia fikir patut dilawan. Mamat tu ada keluarga, ada anak. Kalau aku, memang aku susah nak blah masa tu.
AKu buat suka ati sekarang pun, aku tak takut apa-apa pun, pasal aku memang memilih jalan kera sumbang. Aku takde bini. Aku takde anak. Aku tak bertanggungjawab kat sesapa. Kalau aku mati pun untuk apa yang aku percaya, aku mati tanpa sesal.
Memang aku pilih untuk hidup seorang, supaya diorang takleh nak kidnap anak atau bini aku dan jadikan tebusan. Diorang tak boleh goyangkan makanan anak-bini aku depan aku, pasal aku takde anak, takde bini.
Kalau aku mati, aku mati sorang. Ini bukan janji RPK. Ini kenyataan.
Namun, aku masih ada tanggungjawab. Bukan untuk keluarga aku, tetapi untuk keluarga-keluarga orang yang bekerja dengan aku. Buat filem ni pun, buat projek TV, aku biasa bukak pintu je. Lepas konsep dah okay, aku akan passkan sebahagian kerja menulis skrip kepada orang lain. Bayaran, ko ambik le semua.
Nak tulis semua pun bukannya aku larat. Nak tamak bendanya? Ko ingat kerja ni senang? Pergilah mampus. Idea tahap wira tempur infiniti, tapi nak mengarangnya, sampai aku start isap rokok balik.
Namron punya kes, bulan Februari. Pastu, bila aku tengok orang rajin, aku pun rajin sama. Kawan-kawan lama aku semua dah jadi rajin. Ye la, sesetengahnya dah beranak-pinak. Lain-lain, dah nak tua kerepot.
Dey, SUnder! Ko dah tua siot! Bila ko nak bertaubat? Kamil pun main urut perut macam Yahudi mabuk minum Guiness.
AKu suka tengok kerja orang rajin. Bukannya susah nak jadi rajin. Kalau kau rajin 100%, takde benda ko tak boleh buat.
Ni aku tengah rajin la ni. Kalau aku tak rajin, jadi cam orang yang tak bersyukur. Tau minum kedai kopi je. Aku pun minum kedai kopi gak. Habis semua jenis kopi aku telan. Aku tak heran la setakat kedai kopi. Pergilah mampus. Kalau kat bulan, ye, aku heran. Camana air tu stay dalam cawan? Graviti bulan cuma 0.7-0.8 je graviti bumi.
Dah. AKu nak sambung buat kerja. Demi membalas jasa baik penerbit ni, aku nak ambung tulis dan habiskan malam ni gak.
Dia offer untuk ganti apa-apa saja yang rosak, dan walaupun power supply unit dan motherboard aku rosak, dan aku perlukan water-cooling system, aku cuma mintak motherboard sahaja. PSU ni nanti aku beli lepas masuk gaji.
Hujung bulan, beb. AKu pokai jugak lah. Cukuplah nak makan dan beli rokok, pastu bayar bil eletrik yang dah keluar surat kaler merah.
AKu terharu jugaklah. Pasal kerja aku ni memang tak dapat apa-apa penghargaan biasanya. Kat FFM pun, dia kasi kat Lakon Layar Terbaik. Best Screenplay. Lakon layar biasanya dibuat sama ada oleh pengarah atau pengarah dan penulis skrip, pasal ada jugak yang akan diubah di set. Setakat skrip, apalah yang boleh dibanggakan?
Tapi, aku memang tak cari benda nak bangga. Takde benda aku nak buktikan, pasal kerja aku buktinya sendiri. Kalau buruk, buruk lah. Kalau bagus, baguslah.
Aku sebenarnya, awal tahun ni, aku rasa macam terkandas kat tengah lautan. Takde pendayung, takde kemudi.
Kemudian, aku tengok benda-benda yang membangkitkan semangat aku balik. Namron blah daripada Aswara, walaupun ditawarkan kontrak baru. Dia berani melawan apa yang dia fikir patut dilawan. Mamat tu ada keluarga, ada anak. Kalau aku, memang aku susah nak blah masa tu.
AKu buat suka ati sekarang pun, aku tak takut apa-apa pun, pasal aku memang memilih jalan kera sumbang. Aku takde bini. Aku takde anak. Aku tak bertanggungjawab kat sesapa. Kalau aku mati pun untuk apa yang aku percaya, aku mati tanpa sesal.
Memang aku pilih untuk hidup seorang, supaya diorang takleh nak kidnap anak atau bini aku dan jadikan tebusan. Diorang tak boleh goyangkan makanan anak-bini aku depan aku, pasal aku takde anak, takde bini.
Kalau aku mati, aku mati sorang. Ini bukan janji RPK. Ini kenyataan.
Namun, aku masih ada tanggungjawab. Bukan untuk keluarga aku, tetapi untuk keluarga-keluarga orang yang bekerja dengan aku. Buat filem ni pun, buat projek TV, aku biasa bukak pintu je. Lepas konsep dah okay, aku akan passkan sebahagian kerja menulis skrip kepada orang lain. Bayaran, ko ambik le semua.
Nak tulis semua pun bukannya aku larat. Nak tamak bendanya? Ko ingat kerja ni senang? Pergilah mampus. Idea tahap wira tempur infiniti, tapi nak mengarangnya, sampai aku start isap rokok balik.
Namron punya kes, bulan Februari. Pastu, bila aku tengok orang rajin, aku pun rajin sama. Kawan-kawan lama aku semua dah jadi rajin. Ye la, sesetengahnya dah beranak-pinak. Lain-lain, dah nak tua kerepot.
Dey, SUnder! Ko dah tua siot! Bila ko nak bertaubat? Kamil pun main urut perut macam Yahudi mabuk minum Guiness.
AKu suka tengok kerja orang rajin. Bukannya susah nak jadi rajin. Kalau kau rajin 100%, takde benda ko tak boleh buat.
Ni aku tengah rajin la ni. Kalau aku tak rajin, jadi cam orang yang tak bersyukur. Tau minum kedai kopi je. Aku pun minum kedai kopi gak. Habis semua jenis kopi aku telan. Aku tak heran la setakat kedai kopi. Pergilah mampus. Kalau kat bulan, ye, aku heran. Camana air tu stay dalam cawan? Graviti bulan cuma 0.7-0.8 je graviti bumi.
Dah. AKu nak sambung buat kerja. Demi membalas jasa baik penerbit ni, aku nak ambung tulis dan habiskan malam ni gak.
Words to the Wise
A few years back, one drunken night - and the night was drunk or full of drunken people. I was not drunk - one of the first guys to have ever given me a writing job said to me, "So what do you want to do now?"
"I want to kill idiots," I said.
This stemmed from an elegant conversation with another person I respect. She told me, "Amir, our jobs, as smart people, is to kill fucking idiots. Evil happens when good, smart people do nothing."
Only, I did not put it as elegantly. It was just, "I want to kill idiots." And that was it. I was also trying very hard to get ISA-ed and to bring down a Government, so killing idiots seemed like a good reason for living.
The old guy put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You know, the difference between you and me is that I am older. And as an older man, I can take more shit. Let the idiots be idiots. There is nothing they can do to us."
I was like, fuck. Here were two people with two very different perspectives. On one hand, you can't allow idiots do anything, hence killing them is the best option. On the other, Nit-Shit did say that gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.
I thought I was the abyss. You gaze into me, and I kill you so hard, your ancestors will die. I may still be the deepest, darkest, most powerful abyss EVAR, but there are other abysses and and they are not just shallow, but also full of holes.
Still, the guy's philosophy was that instead of destroying idiots, you can simply be unreachable. Untouchable. Invincible.
It would be a few years before I had an inkling of what that would entail.
These past few days, I have been beset with people not behaving as they should, according to my own bias.
For example, in the midst of an extremely busy day, my mother called me up and asked, of all things, the history of Planta Margarine. She wanted to enter a cooking competition, and that was one of the questions.
I was so enraged, I was quoting George W Bush.
Bush: I am irradiated!
Me: I am irradiated! Wait. Wha-?
For the record, my mother is not an idiot. In fact she is the the most successful emotional manipulator I know. She just has a great sense of timing to ask for the history of Planta Margarine.
So, again, my mind wandered to the conversations I had with those two, and what I have learned in those five years since.
First, idiots will always be there. Often, devoured by Desire. Pathetic, dry husks of beings sapped empty by Desire.
In his masterpiece The Sandman Comics, Neil Gaiman (chaos be upon him) took great pains to differentiate Desire from Dream. He made them almost polar opposites and showed what great things dreams can achieve and how poisonous desire is.
So going back to those two philosophies, the answer was amazingly simple. Both were correct.
To react to idiots is in itself idiotic. To allow one's self be affected in any way by idiots is stupid.
Also, to allow idiots to roam free is also stupid and evil. Because idiocy is contagious. Like syphillis.
So what you do is simple. Remove yourself from the plains of Leng - the battlefield of idiots - and destroy them with solid bombs from above.
Our jobs, as smart people, is to never be touched by idiots, and also to destroy them. Not with hatred or any other sort of emotion, but with The Truth. There is no fear, if you are in line with The Truth.
In fact, idiots are deathly afraid of The Truth, for they are creatures of lies and deceit. Creatures of Desire.
I am Dream's, and Destruction's.
I am sharing this as it was shared to me. May you never be an idiot.
"I want to kill idiots," I said.
This stemmed from an elegant conversation with another person I respect. She told me, "Amir, our jobs, as smart people, is to kill fucking idiots. Evil happens when good, smart people do nothing."
Only, I did not put it as elegantly. It was just, "I want to kill idiots." And that was it. I was also trying very hard to get ISA-ed and to bring down a Government, so killing idiots seemed like a good reason for living.
The old guy put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You know, the difference between you and me is that I am older. And as an older man, I can take more shit. Let the idiots be idiots. There is nothing they can do to us."
I was like, fuck. Here were two people with two very different perspectives. On one hand, you can't allow idiots do anything, hence killing them is the best option. On the other, Nit-Shit did say that gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.
I thought I was the abyss. You gaze into me, and I kill you so hard, your ancestors will die. I may still be the deepest, darkest, most powerful abyss EVAR, but there are other abysses and and they are not just shallow, but also full of holes.
Still, the guy's philosophy was that instead of destroying idiots, you can simply be unreachable. Untouchable. Invincible.
It would be a few years before I had an inkling of what that would entail.
These past few days, I have been beset with people not behaving as they should, according to my own bias.
For example, in the midst of an extremely busy day, my mother called me up and asked, of all things, the history of Planta Margarine. She wanted to enter a cooking competition, and that was one of the questions.
I was so enraged, I was quoting George W Bush.
Bush: I am irradiated!
Me: I am irradiated! Wait. Wha-?
For the record, my mother is not an idiot. In fact she is the the most successful emotional manipulator I know. She just has a great sense of timing to ask for the history of Planta Margarine.
So, again, my mind wandered to the conversations I had with those two, and what I have learned in those five years since.
First, idiots will always be there. Often, devoured by Desire. Pathetic, dry husks of beings sapped empty by Desire.
In his masterpiece The Sandman Comics, Neil Gaiman (chaos be upon him) took great pains to differentiate Desire from Dream. He made them almost polar opposites and showed what great things dreams can achieve and how poisonous desire is.
So going back to those two philosophies, the answer was amazingly simple. Both were correct.
To react to idiots is in itself idiotic. To allow one's self be affected in any way by idiots is stupid.
Also, to allow idiots to roam free is also stupid and evil. Because idiocy is contagious. Like syphillis.
So what you do is simple. Remove yourself from the plains of Leng - the battlefield of idiots - and destroy them with solid bombs from above.
Our jobs, as smart people, is to never be touched by idiots, and also to destroy them. Not with hatred or any other sort of emotion, but with The Truth. There is no fear, if you are in line with The Truth.
In fact, idiots are deathly afraid of The Truth, for they are creatures of lies and deceit. Creatures of Desire.
I am Dream's, and Destruction's.
I am sharing this as it was shared to me. May you never be an idiot.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Nimble Momonga
If I am any card in the game Yu-Gi-Oh, I believe I am Jinzo or its original Japanese name: Android Psycho Shocker.
Jinzo neutralizes all traps on the field. However, my favourite card has always been Nimble Momonga.
You see, when you kill Nimble Momonga in battle, the player who owns Nimble Momonga gets an additional 1,000 HP and its death also summons two more Nimble Momongas and places them on the field.
My dream deck would center around Jinzo, though. Here's my deck construction:
1. Jinzo
2. Nimble Momonga X 3
3. Giant Germ X 3
4. Dark Necromancer
5. Slate Warrior X 3
6. Penguin Warrior
7. Sinister Serpent
8. Summoned Skull
9. Island Tortoise X 2
10. Monster Reborn
11. Change of Heart
12. Dark Hole
13. Raigeki
14. Torrential Tribute
15. Magic Cylinder
And a few other loose cards here and there.
Jinzo neutralizes all traps on the field. However, my favourite card has always been Nimble Momonga.
You see, when you kill Nimble Momonga in battle, the player who owns Nimble Momonga gets an additional 1,000 HP and its death also summons two more Nimble Momongas and places them on the field.
My dream deck would center around Jinzo, though. Here's my deck construction:
1. Jinzo
2. Nimble Momonga X 3
3. Giant Germ X 3
4. Dark Necromancer
5. Slate Warrior X 3
6. Penguin Warrior
7. Sinister Serpent
8. Summoned Skull
9. Island Tortoise X 2
10. Monster Reborn
11. Change of Heart
12. Dark Hole
13. Raigeki
14. Torrential Tribute
15. Magic Cylinder
And a few other loose cards here and there.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Devil in the Gateway
So I got the motherboard, right. A new one, from nice people, and I refused an offer to install the damned thing, preferring to do it myself.
It would have been faster, if not for the fact that some wires are not compatible. The CPU fan power thingy has three holes, while the CPU fan plug thing has four needle jacks.
This means that either:
1. I need a new CPU fan.
or:
2. I need some small parts (that I do not have) that need to be spliced together with some tools (which I also do not have).
So now, I have to send it to the people who gave me the motherboard, first thing tomorrow morning. Along with the processor, and RAM, which I have already installed, with the hard drive, graphic card and the big-ass casing.
Without a PC, I feel incomplete, as I have extended my ego to encapsulate my computer as well.
Oh well. There are other things to extend my ego to.
I shall play games now.
It would have been faster, if not for the fact that some wires are not compatible. The CPU fan power thingy has three holes, while the CPU fan plug thing has four needle jacks.
This means that either:
1. I need a new CPU fan.
or:
2. I need some small parts (that I do not have) that need to be spliced together with some tools (which I also do not have).
So now, I have to send it to the people who gave me the motherboard, first thing tomorrow morning. Along with the processor, and RAM, which I have already installed, with the hard drive, graphic card and the big-ass casing.
Without a PC, I feel incomplete, as I have extended my ego to encapsulate my computer as well.
Oh well. There are other things to extend my ego to.
I shall play games now.
The Wolf Beneath the Tree
A young person asked me, "How far can I go in this business?"
I was like, "How far DO you want to go?"
Eminem said, at the end of his video Lose Yourself, "You can do whatever you put your mind to, man."
Which is true. Humans are beings of limitless potential. To put restrictions on ourselves would be foolish.
That being said, and how nice it is to have goals, I have learned that thinking about the future does not make it happen. Doing shit now, makes the future happen.
When I decided, years ago, to try and replicate Neil Gaiman's writing journey, I had no clue as to where my crazy-ass plan was going to get me. I barely had enough to eat.
I was buying omelettes, cooked my own rice, and ate the egg thing with aji-shio (flavoured pepper). And I consider myself lucky. Cause the people who came before me had to deal with shit like the 70s and unshaved armpits and made way less money.
How far you want to go in life or whatever, is dependent on your current efforts as well as luck. Furthermore, ask yourself - why that far?
Cause if the answer - the real, honest answer - is simply to compare yourself to other people, then you might as well kill yourself now. Cause that path has no end. There's always somebody who has done better, have it better, blablabla better.
To me, personally, the only reasonable goal is to be happy. Be happy right now. Cause happiness is not in the future or in the past.
I was criticised once because I was trying very hard to stay a few steps ahead. I was always a few steps ahead - it wasn't very hard. Most people are idiots - but I forgot to enjoy the now. I was the Man of Tomorrow.
Some people I've met, live in the past. There are painful experiences they hold on to for dear life, as they probably think that to let go of the pain would somehow make them less real. Less entitled. So they don't live in the present, but cling on to past glories and ancient wrongs. Captain Yesterdays, the lot of them.
And by ancient, I meant something like racial memory or some shit like that. Or how their parents abused them. Boo fucking hoo. Most parents abuse their kids. You're not special. Shut the fuck up and die already.
Behind closed doors, most relationships are abusive and parasitical. People are being used by other people, like in that Marilyn Manson song. Even your family may be using you. Yes, all that suspicion was and is correct. You are just a pawn in their game of ego.
Me? I am Fenrir the Wolf. The Wolf Beneath the Tree. Under the shade of Yggdrassil, I await for the end of times. WHich is now, cause I'm going to sleep.
I was like, "How far DO you want to go?"
Eminem said, at the end of his video Lose Yourself, "You can do whatever you put your mind to, man."
Which is true. Humans are beings of limitless potential. To put restrictions on ourselves would be foolish.
That being said, and how nice it is to have goals, I have learned that thinking about the future does not make it happen. Doing shit now, makes the future happen.
When I decided, years ago, to try and replicate Neil Gaiman's writing journey, I had no clue as to where my crazy-ass plan was going to get me. I barely had enough to eat.
I was buying omelettes, cooked my own rice, and ate the egg thing with aji-shio (flavoured pepper). And I consider myself lucky. Cause the people who came before me had to deal with shit like the 70s and unshaved armpits and made way less money.
How far you want to go in life or whatever, is dependent on your current efforts as well as luck. Furthermore, ask yourself - why that far?
Cause if the answer - the real, honest answer - is simply to compare yourself to other people, then you might as well kill yourself now. Cause that path has no end. There's always somebody who has done better, have it better, blablabla better.
To me, personally, the only reasonable goal is to be happy. Be happy right now. Cause happiness is not in the future or in the past.
I was criticised once because I was trying very hard to stay a few steps ahead. I was always a few steps ahead - it wasn't very hard. Most people are idiots - but I forgot to enjoy the now. I was the Man of Tomorrow.
Some people I've met, live in the past. There are painful experiences they hold on to for dear life, as they probably think that to let go of the pain would somehow make them less real. Less entitled. So they don't live in the present, but cling on to past glories and ancient wrongs. Captain Yesterdays, the lot of them.
And by ancient, I meant something like racial memory or some shit like that. Or how their parents abused them. Boo fucking hoo. Most parents abuse their kids. You're not special. Shut the fuck up and die already.
Behind closed doors, most relationships are abusive and parasitical. People are being used by other people, like in that Marilyn Manson song. Even your family may be using you. Yes, all that suspicion was and is correct. You are just a pawn in their game of ego.
Me? I am Fenrir the Wolf. The Wolf Beneath the Tree. Under the shade of Yggdrassil, I await for the end of times. WHich is now, cause I'm going to sleep.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Lootan Plunder
In the next General Elections, I will cast my vote probably in Kuantan. And then, I am going to take a bus and come back to KL.
Whatever happens - be there a bloody race riot, or just business as usual, I will be in KL. This is ground zero. The Plains of Meggido. If anything comes down, it would be here.
I already bought my machete, and I have a list places I want to 'shop'.
I really hope it doesn't come to that. But if it does, I'm getting a new PC.
Whatever happens - be there a bloody race riot, or just business as usual, I will be in KL. This is ground zero. The Plains of Meggido. If anything comes down, it would be here.
I already bought my machete, and I have a list places I want to 'shop'.
I really hope it doesn't come to that. But if it does, I'm getting a new PC.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Beranak Bersepah-Sepah (Lepas Tu Menyusahkan Orang)
Aku tengah lepak tadi kat Bangsar, tiba-tiba ramai la bebudak meraung. Mak bapak buat dekkk je.
Sekor datang kat aku, mintak makanan. Macam kucing. Aku lututkan ke tepi, pakai skill tomoi. Mak bapak dia buat dono je.
Kebanyakan pembiak macam ni, cuma fikir satu je: macamana nak mempergunakan bebudak ni bila dah besar, tanpa belanja banyak sangat sampai umur dia 12 tahun.
Ya! Kebanyakan pembiak hanya akan menjaga anaknya sampai umur 12 tahun. Lepas tu? pergilah mati. Supplies! Aku tau trick korang! Takyah nak tipu aku la.
Ko nampak mat-mat rempit tu? Ko nampak perompak atas motor? Ko nampak bohsia? Ha, yang tu mak bapak dia memang pukimak dan pentingkan diri sendiri la.
Umur 12 je, pergunakan budak tu macam hamba abdi.
Dalam kepala hotak dia, "Ala. Bebudak. Banyak mana la dia makan?" Ada la RM2,400-RM3,600 setahun, bawah 12. Ko tak pikir kan? Ko ingat kerajaan nak bela, macam bela beruk kat zoo? Malaysia tak kaya sangat lah.
Dahlah jaga sampai umur 12 je. Sambil dalam umur 12 tu pun, bukannya tau tanggungjawab. Dia makan nasi beriani. ANak dia, main bagi sampah kat atas pinggan. Jimat kos, katanya.
Tu budak jadi cam kucing, mintak makanan kat meja orang.
Macam ni nak masuk syurga? Syurga ke?
Aku respek mak bapak yang sanggup bankrap, hantar anak ke universiti. Cakap kat aku, tanya yang mana bagus. Of course, yang bagus adalah kursus-kursus kat universiti US dan UK, yang mencecah lebih RM2 juta.
Kalau takde duit, apa yang ada ajalah. Yang penting, ada niat, usaha dan rasa tanggungjawab. Tau beranak, taulah jaga.
Kalau budak tu bodoh pulak, nak buat camana? Hantar la ke bulan. Bodoh jugak.
Beranak bersepah-sepah, macam anjing kat lorong belakang. Pastu takleh jaga. Anjing pun tau jaga anak. Babi pun beranak ramai gak. Besar jadi babi gak. Gemuk je. Tak heran pun. Ko?
Pukimak punya manusia. Aku harap budak tu curi duit ko, pastu hantar ko kat rumah orang tua yang terbiar. Pergilah mampus.
Sekor datang kat aku, mintak makanan. Macam kucing. Aku lututkan ke tepi, pakai skill tomoi. Mak bapak dia buat dono je.
Kebanyakan pembiak macam ni, cuma fikir satu je: macamana nak mempergunakan bebudak ni bila dah besar, tanpa belanja banyak sangat sampai umur dia 12 tahun.
Ya! Kebanyakan pembiak hanya akan menjaga anaknya sampai umur 12 tahun. Lepas tu? pergilah mati. Supplies! Aku tau trick korang! Takyah nak tipu aku la.
Ko nampak mat-mat rempit tu? Ko nampak perompak atas motor? Ko nampak bohsia? Ha, yang tu mak bapak dia memang pukimak dan pentingkan diri sendiri la.
Umur 12 je, pergunakan budak tu macam hamba abdi.
Dalam kepala hotak dia, "Ala. Bebudak. Banyak mana la dia makan?" Ada la RM2,400-RM3,600 setahun, bawah 12. Ko tak pikir kan? Ko ingat kerajaan nak bela, macam bela beruk kat zoo? Malaysia tak kaya sangat lah.
Dahlah jaga sampai umur 12 je. Sambil dalam umur 12 tu pun, bukannya tau tanggungjawab. Dia makan nasi beriani. ANak dia, main bagi sampah kat atas pinggan. Jimat kos, katanya.
Tu budak jadi cam kucing, mintak makanan kat meja orang.
Macam ni nak masuk syurga? Syurga ke?
Aku respek mak bapak yang sanggup bankrap, hantar anak ke universiti. Cakap kat aku, tanya yang mana bagus. Of course, yang bagus adalah kursus-kursus kat universiti US dan UK, yang mencecah lebih RM2 juta.
Kalau takde duit, apa yang ada ajalah. Yang penting, ada niat, usaha dan rasa tanggungjawab. Tau beranak, taulah jaga.
Kalau budak tu bodoh pulak, nak buat camana? Hantar la ke bulan. Bodoh jugak.
Beranak bersepah-sepah, macam anjing kat lorong belakang. Pastu takleh jaga. Anjing pun tau jaga anak. Babi pun beranak ramai gak. Besar jadi babi gak. Gemuk je. Tak heran pun. Ko?
Pukimak punya manusia. Aku harap budak tu curi duit ko, pastu hantar ko kat rumah orang tua yang terbiar. Pergilah mampus.
Dalliance with the Damned
Well, I'm not getting the motherboard today. So I'm going to sleep. For now.
The Divine Comedy: The Kindness of Strangers
I was supposed to hand a treatment to a collaborator today, but my motherboard blew a few capacitors and I could not access the files at all. Stayed up all night trying to recover the data or restart the PC, even using another machine.
In the morning, I SMSed the guy I was meeting and told him the problem. I asked for an advance so that I can buy what I need, and then some. I thought he was going to tell me to fuck off.
He didn't, and was willing to try and help me out. He's not going to fork out an advance, but he can get me in touch with somebody who will furnish me with a motherboard I need.
Our meeting was about a few hours away, so I decided to take a nap as I had stayed up the whole night. I woke up at 3pm, three hours late for our meeting.
FUCK.
Today, I'm just a fucking bastard.
I called him up and apologised profusely. I should not have gone to sleep. But he was okay with it, it seemed. And gave me the number of his supplier, who will get me a replacement motherboard.
Spoke to the guy, and he will try what he can.
Now, I'm waiting for him to call me back. If I can get the motherboard, I can get my friend the treatment tonight. If I can't, then it will have to wait a few days.
I felt so bad for being such an ass, and I am rather impressed with how my collaborator responded to the whole situation and how he is willing to help me out.
If I still have access to any sort of PC, I'll post what happens next later tonight.
In the morning, I SMSed the guy I was meeting and told him the problem. I asked for an advance so that I can buy what I need, and then some. I thought he was going to tell me to fuck off.
He didn't, and was willing to try and help me out. He's not going to fork out an advance, but he can get me in touch with somebody who will furnish me with a motherboard I need.
Our meeting was about a few hours away, so I decided to take a nap as I had stayed up the whole night. I woke up at 3pm, three hours late for our meeting.
FUCK.
Today, I'm just a fucking bastard.
I called him up and apologised profusely. I should not have gone to sleep. But he was okay with it, it seemed. And gave me the number of his supplier, who will get me a replacement motherboard.
Spoke to the guy, and he will try what he can.
Now, I'm waiting for him to call me back. If I can get the motherboard, I can get my friend the treatment tonight. If I can't, then it will have to wait a few days.
I felt so bad for being such an ass, and I am rather impressed with how my collaborator responded to the whole situation and how he is willing to help me out.
If I still have access to any sort of PC, I'll post what happens next later tonight.
Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa Dan Lain-Lain
Fullamak. Gila teruja aku tengok filem Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa punya trailer. Sejuk jugak pankreas aku, walaupun PC aku jahanam.
Apa-apa hal pun, aku kena tabik kat Yusry dan KRU Productions. Memang lebih dari sangkaan aku.
AKu jugak nak mengucapkan terima kasih kat semua orang yang terlibat dalam projek ni.
AKu buat pra-produksi sahaja, jadi orang yang aku deal adalah Norman, Yusry, Elmy, O, Kromosom yang jadi bidan terjun buat sketches untuk character design, semua orang yang aku interview, terutama Puan Rohani, Chee yang offer nak buat dialog dalam Bahasa Cina klasik, Stephen Rahman-Hughes yang bagi banyak input berguna.
Juga, krew yang aku tak jumpa, pasal KRU suruh aku develop cerita lain la pulak.
Terima kasih kepada semua stuntman, extras, tukang katerer, key grip, boom operator, second unit, costume designers, pembuat-pembuat set, assistant directors, assistant producers, editors, VFX unit, sound, MPO, pereka poster yang cuma dapat synopsis untuk poster pertama filem ni, bahagian akaun, penari, penyanyi, penulis subtitle, termasuk la pencacai tua pengangkut najis, sekiranya ada.
Tanpa jasa baik dan kesungguhan korang, takdela filem ni. Tak boleh la aku bawak balik, tunjuk kat orang kampung. AKu budak kampung je, beb. AKu duduk tepi paya.
Aku harap, aku dapat tunjuk filem ni kat bapak aku. Dia sakit kat kampung sekarang ni, dan kadang-kadang aku tau dia syak aku ni kat KL jual dadah kot?
Ye la, mak aku call aku hari Jumaat, pukul 12, aku tengah tidur. Aku memang cuti hari Jemaat. Pastu, call aku hari Isnin, pukul 11 pagi, aku masih tidur. Ye la. Syif aku pukul 12.
Aku mintak maaf kat keluarga aku pasal aku lambat bayar Astro sampai kena potong. Aku bayar, tapi lambat. Nak buat camana? Sekarang dah ok balik kan?
Jangan bimbang. Aku tak pernah jual dadah. Ambik dadah ada la. Doktor suruh. Nak buat cemana?
Apapun, aku cuma rasa agak gembira yang filem ni nampak mantap, daripada trailernya lah. Tak sabar aku nak tengok, lepas tu buat filem lain la pulak.
Tapi kena beli motherboard baru dulu. Ni nak tulis pun pakai Blackberry.
Apa-apa hal pun, aku kena tabik kat Yusry dan KRU Productions. Memang lebih dari sangkaan aku.
AKu jugak nak mengucapkan terima kasih kat semua orang yang terlibat dalam projek ni.
AKu buat pra-produksi sahaja, jadi orang yang aku deal adalah Norman, Yusry, Elmy, O, Kromosom yang jadi bidan terjun buat sketches untuk character design, semua orang yang aku interview, terutama Puan Rohani, Chee yang offer nak buat dialog dalam Bahasa Cina klasik, Stephen Rahman-Hughes yang bagi banyak input berguna.
Juga, krew yang aku tak jumpa, pasal KRU suruh aku develop cerita lain la pulak.
Terima kasih kepada semua stuntman, extras, tukang katerer, key grip, boom operator, second unit, costume designers, pembuat-pembuat set, assistant directors, assistant producers, editors, VFX unit, sound, MPO, pereka poster yang cuma dapat synopsis untuk poster pertama filem ni, bahagian akaun, penari, penyanyi, penulis subtitle, termasuk la pencacai tua pengangkut najis, sekiranya ada.
Tanpa jasa baik dan kesungguhan korang, takdela filem ni. Tak boleh la aku bawak balik, tunjuk kat orang kampung. AKu budak kampung je, beb. AKu duduk tepi paya.
Aku harap, aku dapat tunjuk filem ni kat bapak aku. Dia sakit kat kampung sekarang ni, dan kadang-kadang aku tau dia syak aku ni kat KL jual dadah kot?
Ye la, mak aku call aku hari Jumaat, pukul 12, aku tengah tidur. Aku memang cuti hari Jemaat. Pastu, call aku hari Isnin, pukul 11 pagi, aku masih tidur. Ye la. Syif aku pukul 12.
Aku mintak maaf kat keluarga aku pasal aku lambat bayar Astro sampai kena potong. Aku bayar, tapi lambat. Nak buat camana? Sekarang dah ok balik kan?
Jangan bimbang. Aku tak pernah jual dadah. Ambik dadah ada la. Doktor suruh. Nak buat cemana?
Apapun, aku cuma rasa agak gembira yang filem ni nampak mantap, daripada trailernya lah. Tak sabar aku nak tengok, lepas tu buat filem lain la pulak.
Tapi kena beli motherboard baru dulu. Ni nak tulis pun pakai Blackberry.
Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa Trailer (English)
Oh my. The trailer looks really good. I am proud to have been a part of this project. And I thank everyone involved - from the extras to the KRU brothers who gave me the opportunity to write a once-in-a-lifetime movie.
They could have gone with anyone, but they went with me. For that, I am thankful.
I don't think I'll be doing anything like this again. At least not for some time. At last, all that hard work is finally taking shape.
I saw the rushes as they were putting the CGI in. I must say that Yusry is a fantastic director, with a great vision, and very few people can do what he did for the movie.
It was a pleasure working with him, KRU and everyone involved in the project.
I would also like to thank the Academy - erm... anyway, I'd go and watch this movie five times. Or something like that.
Arcadia of My Youth
This PC was very good to me. It was cobbled together from parts of six different PCs.
It was my Millenium Falcon. The Arcadia of my youth. With it, I supervised 3700 hours of TV programming.
I wrote seven (+three) scripts currently in various stages of completion.
I finished my novel on it, and wrote hundreds of articles for newspapers, magazines and websites.
It was robust, rugged, and I treated it like a 40-year-old whore.
This was the only PC I used which has never, ever, given me a blue screen. NEVER.
When it gets temperamental, it just shuts down. I give it a few minutes, and turn it back on again.
In the end, I guess it was time for it to die. The motherboard - its soul - blew a few capacitors, perhaps due to my habit of turning the power off just like that. Or maybe the Power Supply Unit (PSU) was just erratic to begin with.
I always get pissed whenever my PC dies. It means I can't do what I am used to doing. Like smoking and listening to stupid '80s songs while I write.
I have a netbook, but I only use that for emergencies. Like for my day job.
Blogging, Twitter, Facebook, I can use my Blackberry. Without the PC, though, I will not do any creative projects. Na-ah. Not a single fucking one.
I guess I'll just have to wait till payday to get my new motherboard. An MSI K9N or something that can take:
1. An AMD dual-core processor
2. DDR2 RAM
3. SATA hard disk.
There are better systems out there, but I don't want them. I want to salvage as much hardware as I can from the old system.
Just need a motherboard, a new DVD-ROM, a liquid-cooling system, and possibly a 2TB hard disk.
Fuck, man. I want to travel to the n-th dimensions of ideaspace, but 4 capacitors blew up and I'm stuck in a smelly room with too much smoke.
I miss my porn. I mean, PC.
It was my Millenium Falcon. The Arcadia of my youth. With it, I supervised 3700 hours of TV programming.
I wrote seven (+three) scripts currently in various stages of completion.
I finished my novel on it, and wrote hundreds of articles for newspapers, magazines and websites.
It was robust, rugged, and I treated it like a 40-year-old whore.
This was the only PC I used which has never, ever, given me a blue screen. NEVER.
When it gets temperamental, it just shuts down. I give it a few minutes, and turn it back on again.
In the end, I guess it was time for it to die. The motherboard - its soul - blew a few capacitors, perhaps due to my habit of turning the power off just like that. Or maybe the Power Supply Unit (PSU) was just erratic to begin with.
I always get pissed whenever my PC dies. It means I can't do what I am used to doing. Like smoking and listening to stupid '80s songs while I write.
I have a netbook, but I only use that for emergencies. Like for my day job.
Blogging, Twitter, Facebook, I can use my Blackberry. Without the PC, though, I will not do any creative projects. Na-ah. Not a single fucking one.
I guess I'll just have to wait till payday to get my new motherboard. An MSI K9N or something that can take:
1. An AMD dual-core processor
2. DDR2 RAM
3. SATA hard disk.
There are better systems out there, but I don't want them. I want to salvage as much hardware as I can from the old system.
Just need a motherboard, a new DVD-ROM, a liquid-cooling system, and possibly a 2TB hard disk.
Fuck, man. I want to travel to the n-th dimensions of ideaspace, but 4 capacitors blew up and I'm stuck in a smelly room with too much smoke.
I miss my porn. I mean, PC.
SATA
Oh, and my hard disk is a SATA, and his only has IDE slots.
So I can't plug it in as an internal. Fuck, man. What am I going to tell my collaborators tomorrow?
That I need a few hundred bucks for a new motherboard? Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing anything for the next few weeks?
And it's the end of the month. I don't have any cash left. Barely have enough to buy food.
Well, I'm no longer writing anything free scripts, ideas or treatments for anyone. You want two words, or a letter - the letter 'A', I want cash upfront. I don't give a shit, man.
I have given five different companies enough ideas to do creative projects for the next 20 years. And what have they given me? Peanuts.
Well, I'm sorry, but the honeymoon days are over. I need a new computer, and I will not - cannot - write anything until I get it.
Oh well. I take it as a sign to cash in on all their promises to me. Give me money, NOW.
So I can't plug it in as an internal. Fuck, man. What am I going to tell my collaborators tomorrow?
That I need a few hundred bucks for a new motherboard? Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing anything for the next few weeks?
And it's the end of the month. I don't have any cash left. Barely have enough to buy food.
Well, I'm no longer writing anything free scripts, ideas or treatments for anyone. You want two words, or a letter - the letter 'A', I want cash upfront. I don't give a shit, man.
I have given five different companies enough ideas to do creative projects for the next 20 years. And what have they given me? Peanuts.
Well, I'm sorry, but the honeymoon days are over. I need a new computer, and I will not - cannot - write anything until I get it.
Oh well. I take it as a sign to cash in on all their promises to me. Give me money, NOW.
Redundancy Check
So I invited my friend to look at my computer, which was behaving weirdly. His prognosis, at the beginning, was that it was running too hot.
So he opened it, cleaned it up, and now it wouldn't start. At all.
He thought it was a power supply problem, but it wasn't. Actually, 4 capacitors on the motherboard blew up.
The problem is, I have a scene breakdown I need to polish and send tomorrow afternoon. For the past 10 hours, though, we have been unable to get into BIOS, let alone Windows. It's that bad.
Anyway, I convinced him to go to Kajang and bring back a CPU as well as a hard disk bracket. Or housing. Whatever you call that thing.
He got here, and I managed to get my hard disk to be accessed by his CPU. Only to find out that my documents are protected and unless I make it a master boot disk, it won't give me the script I kept in a secure folder.
It was my bad that I didn't email myself a copy.
So now, I plugged my hard disk back into my old CPU and is trying to turn the damn system back on. I have no basis, no logic for thinking this could, in any way, work.
It is all up to faith. I am waiting for the CPU to charge up what is left of the capacitors and see if it will give me one last, fateful ride.
This would not have happened if I were a rich man.
So he opened it, cleaned it up, and now it wouldn't start. At all.
He thought it was a power supply problem, but it wasn't. Actually, 4 capacitors on the motherboard blew up.
The problem is, I have a scene breakdown I need to polish and send tomorrow afternoon. For the past 10 hours, though, we have been unable to get into BIOS, let alone Windows. It's that bad.
Anyway, I convinced him to go to Kajang and bring back a CPU as well as a hard disk bracket. Or housing. Whatever you call that thing.
He got here, and I managed to get my hard disk to be accessed by his CPU. Only to find out that my documents are protected and unless I make it a master boot disk, it won't give me the script I kept in a secure folder.
It was my bad that I didn't email myself a copy.
So now, I plugged my hard disk back into my old CPU and is trying to turn the damn system back on. I have no basis, no logic for thinking this could, in any way, work.
It is all up to faith. I am waiting for the CPU to charge up what is left of the capacitors and see if it will give me one last, fateful ride.
This would not have happened if I were a rich man.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Last of the Romantic Disciplines
Journalism is the last of the romantic disciplines. Samurais and knight-errants don't exist anymore. Journalism, with its quest for truth, is the only one left. In theory anyway.
I can tell you many stories why I did it. The truth is simple: Neil Gaiman said he failed to publish his stories when he was 23 years old, so he became a journalist for eight years.
He said it was a good experience and also gave him contacts to do his comics projects.
So I thought, okay, I'll be a journalist.
What I like about this job is the simple fact that anything I learn at it can and will be used on other things.
I was taught by people who believed in the possibility of skill sets being applied to many different things.
For example, writing movie reviews, you tend to figure out how movies work, and then you can apply some of that in writing for the screen. Same thing with TV. I did my first TV script - an animation project - without knowing how the fuck a script looked like.
Well, when you don't know, you find out. Simple, right?
The thinking process of writing - if you have good teachers - can carry you in any field. I used to hang around my editor like crazy. Simply because I enjoyed his company, and also because I wanted to learn his skills.
In Japan, there is a vocational tradition/culture/institution for skill-based work like cooking or drawing, sword-making and other stuff. There are no sword-making colleges or prominent manga-drawing courses in universities.
Apprentices stay with the masters, and they become little more than indentured servants, but also gain opportunities to observe and 'steal' the skills of the masters.
One thing about me is that when I read about these things in comics, I tend to try them out in real life. Worked just fine for me.
I felt like a ninja. And really, the one who thinks he or she has learned everything there is to learn, knows everything there is to know is arrogant, stupid and just waiting to die. When you stop growing, when you stop learning, you die.
Life is just one big classroom. Observe. Listen. Listen. Listen. Form is just a training wheel. In the end, substance matters most.
I spend hours everyday reading Wikipedia. I got over 100 tabs and windows open before me right now. One day, all this information will prove useful. Information is always useful.
I love journalism.
Alas, it is also a dying profession. Chivalry is dead, and so is romance. Well, not really. Journalism will continue to exist, just - and this is only my belief - its form will again change. The structure will change. It will incorporate some new things and discard others.
Journalists as news breakers is no longer as viable as before. Still there, but not as it was. A storm is coming, and the world will adapt in its own way. Adaptability is key. Applying the same skill-sets and critical thinking to a whole new world of possibilities and responsibilities.
I'll continue to learn, and shift and transform. If I've learned anything from my masters, it's that no one knows what tomorrow will bring.
So, take my hand, and into the breach?
I can tell you many stories why I did it. The truth is simple: Neil Gaiman said he failed to publish his stories when he was 23 years old, so he became a journalist for eight years.
He said it was a good experience and also gave him contacts to do his comics projects.
So I thought, okay, I'll be a journalist.
What I like about this job is the simple fact that anything I learn at it can and will be used on other things.
I was taught by people who believed in the possibility of skill sets being applied to many different things.
For example, writing movie reviews, you tend to figure out how movies work, and then you can apply some of that in writing for the screen. Same thing with TV. I did my first TV script - an animation project - without knowing how the fuck a script looked like.
Well, when you don't know, you find out. Simple, right?
The thinking process of writing - if you have good teachers - can carry you in any field. I used to hang around my editor like crazy. Simply because I enjoyed his company, and also because I wanted to learn his skills.
In Japan, there is a vocational tradition/culture/institution for skill-based work like cooking or drawing, sword-making and other stuff. There are no sword-making colleges or prominent manga-drawing courses in universities.
Apprentices stay with the masters, and they become little more than indentured servants, but also gain opportunities to observe and 'steal' the skills of the masters.
One thing about me is that when I read about these things in comics, I tend to try them out in real life. Worked just fine for me.
I felt like a ninja. And really, the one who thinks he or she has learned everything there is to learn, knows everything there is to know is arrogant, stupid and just waiting to die. When you stop growing, when you stop learning, you die.
Life is just one big classroom. Observe. Listen. Listen. Listen. Form is just a training wheel. In the end, substance matters most.
I spend hours everyday reading Wikipedia. I got over 100 tabs and windows open before me right now. One day, all this information will prove useful. Information is always useful.
I love journalism.
Alas, it is also a dying profession. Chivalry is dead, and so is romance. Well, not really. Journalism will continue to exist, just - and this is only my belief - its form will again change. The structure will change. It will incorporate some new things and discard others.
Journalists as news breakers is no longer as viable as before. Still there, but not as it was. A storm is coming, and the world will adapt in its own way. Adaptability is key. Applying the same skill-sets and critical thinking to a whole new world of possibilities and responsibilities.
I'll continue to learn, and shift and transform. If I've learned anything from my masters, it's that no one knows what tomorrow will bring.
So, take my hand, and into the breach?
Jaafar Off Day
I took a single off day, today. With the dubious circumstances of a movie premiere I wanted to go to - they only confirmed I had tickets after I told them I won't be going - I decided to spend almost the entire day in bed, reading Lucifer - a comic book series published by the Vertigo imprint.
It was a good decision. I needed some time in bed. The mattress was a gift. An expensive full-latex affair which I didn't have a lot of time for on any given day.
I only really got out of it at night, when I went looking for food. Got back, and started writing at around 12.30am. I am working on several projects at once, in the hopes that at least some would make it to the silver screen.
A producer called me up, and we discussed work as well as payment arrangements. I can do synopsis on a pro bono basis, but I won't write a single word of script until I get at least 30%. This is not diva-ing off, but simply because a lot of movies never get made, so my time must be invested wisely, and I will not be the only one at risk for spending my precious time on something that will never be.
Things are looking good, I think. I asked for two things:
1. Creative control
- granted, the director will be makiing the final calls to the script and the movie. That is a given. But I no longer want to do crazy rewrites to any script. To protect myself, the creative integrity of the story as well as everyone else, I asked for better creative control of the story. Meaning I can say no to some things which I deem unnecessary.
2. Payment details
- If you're getting paid for stuff like this, make sure all details concerning payment are clear from day one. One of the issues that saw a lot of scriptwriters I worked with - as well as technical people in the creative industry - quit to sell burgers, or join the Government service is because there were no concrete agreements as to how much and how payment will be made. Also, WHEN?
I have been promised a lot of payments for scripts - most of them, as of today, will never see the light of day. Things happen. People get replaced. I lost interest in some projects, they lost interest in some projects. No funds. Fights break out. Shit happens, man. Bada bing, bada boom.
People can promise you the sun, moon and stars. I can do that too. In the end? To me, it's always 70-30. As in, 70% of projects never get done.
In this regard, you need to be a bit strict, without being a bitch. No need for rudeness, just simple questions would do.
---------------
These days, I only do projects that interest me. And stuff that allow me more creative control. Thank God for my day job. I can say no to a lot of offers. Time is becoming more and more precious. I aim to put 30 movies on the screen before I retire. I don't need to, but I guess a target wouldn't hurt.
If I continue my plan to produce, though, that number will have to be cut down. I will not direct, as that will cut my time even more. Normal directors get to do maybe 10 good movies in their lifetime. If you're in Hong Kong or in the Indian movie industry, then that's a different story.
ANyway, after race, religion will raise its ugly head. I foresee a lot of fighting about religion soon. Like, duh. Religion is a powder keg just waiting for a match, for an excuse to explode. Sorry, I mean, EXPLOD!
It all stems from people's desire to be right. To be told that they are right.
I am not right at all. I am not left either. I'm just wrong in so many ways. I'll never get to heaven, according to some people. And I don't give a shit. Not my business. God's business.
I have no desire to be right. I don't need people to tell me I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.
It was a good decision. I needed some time in bed. The mattress was a gift. An expensive full-latex affair which I didn't have a lot of time for on any given day.
I only really got out of it at night, when I went looking for food. Got back, and started writing at around 12.30am. I am working on several projects at once, in the hopes that at least some would make it to the silver screen.
A producer called me up, and we discussed work as well as payment arrangements. I can do synopsis on a pro bono basis, but I won't write a single word of script until I get at least 30%. This is not diva-ing off, but simply because a lot of movies never get made, so my time must be invested wisely, and I will not be the only one at risk for spending my precious time on something that will never be.
Things are looking good, I think. I asked for two things:
1. Creative control
- granted, the director will be makiing the final calls to the script and the movie. That is a given. But I no longer want to do crazy rewrites to any script. To protect myself, the creative integrity of the story as well as everyone else, I asked for better creative control of the story. Meaning I can say no to some things which I deem unnecessary.
2. Payment details
- If you're getting paid for stuff like this, make sure all details concerning payment are clear from day one. One of the issues that saw a lot of scriptwriters I worked with - as well as technical people in the creative industry - quit to sell burgers, or join the Government service is because there were no concrete agreements as to how much and how payment will be made. Also, WHEN?
I have been promised a lot of payments for scripts - most of them, as of today, will never see the light of day. Things happen. People get replaced. I lost interest in some projects, they lost interest in some projects. No funds. Fights break out. Shit happens, man. Bada bing, bada boom.
People can promise you the sun, moon and stars. I can do that too. In the end? To me, it's always 70-30. As in, 70% of projects never get done.
In this regard, you need to be a bit strict, without being a bitch. No need for rudeness, just simple questions would do.
---------------
These days, I only do projects that interest me. And stuff that allow me more creative control. Thank God for my day job. I can say no to a lot of offers. Time is becoming more and more precious. I aim to put 30 movies on the screen before I retire. I don't need to, but I guess a target wouldn't hurt.
If I continue my plan to produce, though, that number will have to be cut down. I will not direct, as that will cut my time even more. Normal directors get to do maybe 10 good movies in their lifetime. If you're in Hong Kong or in the Indian movie industry, then that's a different story.
ANyway, after race, religion will raise its ugly head. I foresee a lot of fighting about religion soon. Like, duh. Religion is a powder keg just waiting for a match, for an excuse to explode. Sorry, I mean, EXPLOD!
It all stems from people's desire to be right. To be told that they are right.
I am not right at all. I am not left either. I'm just wrong in so many ways. I'll never get to heaven, according to some people. And I don't give a shit. Not my business. God's business.
I have no desire to be right. I don't need people to tell me I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Amir Hafizi: Feminist
As the world's greatest feminist, I fight for the right of women all over the world to fuck around.
As long as she is not tied to any man, woman or thing, she should be allowed to fuck as many man, woman or thing as she wants. In fact, society should support this. Maybe even make it compulsory. Five dicks a week, or we want our money back.
Seriously, though, I am blessed because I was born with a dick. I can get away with so much shit. I should be thankful, shut up and just beat my wife, right?
Well, I come from a family of extremely strong women. The men in our family, we're all aloof. We couldn't care less. When there is a problem with something, we beat that thing until it stops moving.
We men are free spirits, in my family, so the women are the ones who hold the entire family unit together.
My mother was one of those full-time housewives. At the time, there were few options, and I sense that even until today, she yearns for freedom. This has affected us four siblings in different, yet similar ways.
I have my own lifelong pursuit of freedom and independence. The thing four of us share is that we do not need any other person to fuck our lives up as we are entirely capable of doing that ourselves.
Coming from this background, it was quite shocking to me when I got out of my all-boys' school, and found that a lot of women in Malaysia are submissive.
I had high hopes for women, when I was in school, because I have seen what a society governed by men would be like. Full of ass-rapes and demonstrations of power and fantasizing about being in a triad. I go to girls' schools, and they all smell better. Except KaTaK (Kolej Tunku Kurshiah).
So I got out, right, thinking that women would be smarter and have better ideas. What a great disappointment it was to discover that women are just as stupid as men.
They are just as egotistical, just as arrogant, and have the capacity to be just as spiteful and violent.
Women are not going to save the world. In fact, the family unit - one of the greatest evils perpetrated on mankind, by mankind - is fully endorsed and instigated by women. I can blame them for it because I'm a man - an ANCHORMAN!
I was back at square one.
It was then that I fully understood the futility of being sexist. So I went to Thailand and became SEXAY! All over, all these nubile girls started calling at me, "Hey, hansum man!" and when I wasn't wearing any underwear, or pants for that matter, they call out, "Hey, SEXAY man!" and "Want to go boom-boom in my loom? I lap you long thyme!"
I do not understand why, as a man, I am expected to start and decide everything.
One girl asked me, "You like my hair long, or short?"
Me: I dunno. How do you like it?
Bitch: NO! YOU MUST TELL ME!
Me: Okay... how do you take a dump with long hair? Doesn't it like, touch the shit or something?
Bitch: So you like me with short hair?
Me: I didn't say that.
I also find that some girls believe they are taking care of my ego when they ask me for opinions on matters they are experts in.
Slut: I need to buy a business suit. Do you think my eyes go with mauve, or fuschia?
Me: Erm...
Slut: I think blue eye make-up is more suitable for me. Plus, it has Acai berries, which is pronounced A-sa-ee, by the way. What do you think?
Me: Uhh...
One thing I do know - I hate Femi-Nazis.
They are just as bad as ass-rapists, propagate hate and are ultimately insecure. If a race riot happens, I'm going out with my machete and I'm killing Femi-Nazis.
As long as she is not tied to any man, woman or thing, she should be allowed to fuck as many man, woman or thing as she wants. In fact, society should support this. Maybe even make it compulsory. Five dicks a week, or we want our money back.
Seriously, though, I am blessed because I was born with a dick. I can get away with so much shit. I should be thankful, shut up and just beat my wife, right?
Well, I come from a family of extremely strong women. The men in our family, we're all aloof. We couldn't care less. When there is a problem with something, we beat that thing until it stops moving.
We men are free spirits, in my family, so the women are the ones who hold the entire family unit together.
My mother was one of those full-time housewives. At the time, there were few options, and I sense that even until today, she yearns for freedom. This has affected us four siblings in different, yet similar ways.
I have my own lifelong pursuit of freedom and independence. The thing four of us share is that we do not need any other person to fuck our lives up as we are entirely capable of doing that ourselves.
Coming from this background, it was quite shocking to me when I got out of my all-boys' school, and found that a lot of women in Malaysia are submissive.
I had high hopes for women, when I was in school, because I have seen what a society governed by men would be like. Full of ass-rapes and demonstrations of power and fantasizing about being in a triad. I go to girls' schools, and they all smell better. Except KaTaK (Kolej Tunku Kurshiah).
So I got out, right, thinking that women would be smarter and have better ideas. What a great disappointment it was to discover that women are just as stupid as men.
They are just as egotistical, just as arrogant, and have the capacity to be just as spiteful and violent.
Women are not going to save the world. In fact, the family unit - one of the greatest evils perpetrated on mankind, by mankind - is fully endorsed and instigated by women. I can blame them for it because I'm a man - an ANCHORMAN!
I was back at square one.
It was then that I fully understood the futility of being sexist. So I went to Thailand and became SEXAY! All over, all these nubile girls started calling at me, "Hey, hansum man!" and when I wasn't wearing any underwear, or pants for that matter, they call out, "Hey, SEXAY man!" and "Want to go boom-boom in my loom? I lap you long thyme!"
I do not understand why, as a man, I am expected to start and decide everything.
One girl asked me, "You like my hair long, or short?"
Me: I dunno. How do you like it?
Bitch: NO! YOU MUST TELL ME!
Me: Okay... how do you take a dump with long hair? Doesn't it like, touch the shit or something?
Bitch: So you like me with short hair?
Me: I didn't say that.
I also find that some girls believe they are taking care of my ego when they ask me for opinions on matters they are experts in.
Slut: I need to buy a business suit. Do you think my eyes go with mauve, or fuschia?
Me: Erm...
Slut: I think blue eye make-up is more suitable for me. Plus, it has Acai berries, which is pronounced A-sa-ee, by the way. What do you think?
Me: Uhh...
One thing I do know - I hate Femi-Nazis.
They are just as bad as ass-rapists, propagate hate and are ultimately insecure. If a race riot happens, I'm going out with my machete and I'm killing Femi-Nazis.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Oh. My. God
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! YES!
Maria Ozawa is one of the best Japanese porn stars ever. EVAR! She had sex with some transsexuals and even simulated rape with some black dudes. Kudos to the Indonesian filmmakers for making this movie.
A hardworking talent such as Maria Ozawa deserve to do as many movies - porn or non-porn - as she wants.
If she comes here, I want an autograph. SOmewhere.
Captain's Log
Today was a great day.
I managed to kill Rebi Torah with just three shots. One when she attacked my SRX (Super Robot X-Type, the second most powerful robot in the game) and SRX countered. Then, I had to plan it out.
See, she would run away if I were to attack using Heaven and Earth Sword or something using the SRX. Cause she runs at like, 50% HP or thereabouts and the attack can only get her down to 10%.
I just needed damage her another 10%. There was no robot in range, so I took Quatro Vagina, who is actually Char Aznable (why he would call himself vagina is beyond me), in a Sazabi, and used the Move Again magic. So he travelled practically 16 spaces and was just in range to deliver a medium-strength attack, to weaken Rebi.
Then, I took SRX, used the Spirit magic (triple damage) and attacked using the ultimate attack thing. And she's dead.
Oh, she'll come back, cause she's the final boss. I played this game almost 20 times from beginning to end already (I know it's more than 15, less than 20).
This time, I am trying to upgrade all my important Gundams. Cause my Super Robots are just plain super already. The Real Robots - now that's a challenge.
I now have the Nu-Gundam HWS (Heavy Weapons System) and am looking for the FA ZZ Gundam (That's Full Armour Double Zeta Gundam to you).
Once I have those, man. My team would be invincible.
Right now, the All-Star team would comprise of:
1. Ryou-Ko-Oh
2. SRX
3. Majinkaizer
4. Shin Getta Robo 1
5. Combattler V
6. Voltes V
7. Raideen
8. Boss Borot (energy replenishment)
9. Diana A (healing robot)
10. Nu-Gundam HWS
11. ZGundam
12. FA ZZGundam
13. V2 Assault Buster Gundam
14. Eva 01
15. Eva 02
16. Methus (Healing)
17. VF Valkyrie 1J (Max Jinias)
18. Gunbuster (Goalkeeper cause it's the third most powerful robot in the game)
Mothership:
Macross
Substitute:
a. Daitarn 3/Titan 3
b. Great Majinga
c. Sazabi (Quattro Vagina) or FA Hyaku Shiki Kai
d. VF Valkyrie 1J (Miriya Jinias)
e. Super Gundam (Christina Mackenzie + Bernard something-something)
f. Dancougar (final attack is 6300, beast ability causing damage to be X 1.5 or X2 naturally, and almost all four pilots can use the Motivate magic.)
Okay. Going to sleep now.
I managed to kill Rebi Torah with just three shots. One when she attacked my SRX (Super Robot X-Type, the second most powerful robot in the game) and SRX countered. Then, I had to plan it out.
See, she would run away if I were to attack using Heaven and Earth Sword or something using the SRX. Cause she runs at like, 50% HP or thereabouts and the attack can only get her down to 10%.
I just needed damage her another 10%. There was no robot in range, so I took Quatro Vagina, who is actually Char Aznable (why he would call himself vagina is beyond me), in a Sazabi, and used the Move Again magic. So he travelled practically 16 spaces and was just in range to deliver a medium-strength attack, to weaken Rebi.
Then, I took SRX, used the Spirit magic (triple damage) and attacked using the ultimate attack thing. And she's dead.
Oh, she'll come back, cause she's the final boss. I played this game almost 20 times from beginning to end already (I know it's more than 15, less than 20).
This time, I am trying to upgrade all my important Gundams. Cause my Super Robots are just plain super already. The Real Robots - now that's a challenge.
I now have the Nu-Gundam HWS (Heavy Weapons System) and am looking for the FA ZZ Gundam (That's Full Armour Double Zeta Gundam to you).
Once I have those, man. My team would be invincible.
Right now, the All-Star team would comprise of:
1. Ryou-Ko-Oh
2. SRX
3. Majinkaizer
4. Shin Getta Robo 1
5. Combattler V
6. Voltes V
7. Raideen
8. Boss Borot (energy replenishment)
9. Diana A (healing robot)
10. Nu-Gundam HWS
11. ZGundam
12. FA ZZGundam
13. V2 Assault Buster Gundam
14. Eva 01
15. Eva 02
16. Methus (Healing)
17. VF Valkyrie 1J (Max Jinias)
18. Gunbuster (Goalkeeper cause it's the third most powerful robot in the game)
Mothership:
Macross
Substitute:
a. Daitarn 3/Titan 3
b. Great Majinga
c. Sazabi (Quattro Vagina) or FA Hyaku Shiki Kai
d. VF Valkyrie 1J (Miriya Jinias)
e. Super Gundam (Christina Mackenzie + Bernard something-something)
f. Dancougar (final attack is 6300, beast ability causing damage to be X 1.5 or X2 naturally, and almost all four pilots can use the Motivate magic.)
Okay. Going to sleep now.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Chee-Ling Express
So I left work today, to have dinner with Chee. It was my second meal of the day which involved food, so it was dinner.
At Bangsar, my regular haunt. We talked for a couple of hours, and then Chee went to the toilet. I was SMS-ing people, and BBM-ing them, and Fb-ing and Tweeting, for what seemed like 10 minutes, when I heard gasps of horror from the next table.
I looked up, and there was Chee, covered in blood. Like, literally. AT first, though, I thought he was covered in tequila and cranberry juice. I don't know why. Maybe cause I was a bit high.
He was groping about, and I realised that he couldn't see.
Took him down to his seat, some guy gave him a towel with ice inside and I began questioning Chee.
Me: What happened?
Chee: I can't remember.
Me: Did you black out?
Chee: I think I did. I remember peeing, and then it was totally black. I think I blacked out, dude.
Me: Did you see the future?
Chee: What?
Me: Nevermind. How many fingers in front of me right now?
Chee: I can't see, man.
Me: Okay. Where's your phone? I need to call Ling.
By the time he gave me his phone, Chee had regained his sight, but was a bit freaked.
Chee: Man, a blind artist - that's pathetic.
Ling is Chee's wife.
So I called her up, and asked her to come and pick us up, as Chee was in no state to drive. Starting to tell her was difficult.
Me: Umm... he's all right. Chee's okay now, but he bumped his head and I don't think he can drive.
Ling: I'll take a cab and be ther in a bit. Where are you guys?
Me: We are at Bangsar. At ___ ___.
Then, I grilled Chee again.
Me: You can see now?
Chee: Yeah.
Me: Dude, that's a lot of blood.
There was a large stain on his chest, and some dried blood on his forehead, chest and huge bruises on his shoulder as well as collarbone. There was a huge cut on his forehead which will leave a lighting-shaped scar. Blood was oozing out.
Most worrying, though, was the fact that he blacked out and lost his vision. That freaked both of us out.
Me: How many is this?
I waved three fingers.
Chee: Three.
Me: Do you feel pain at the back of your head?
Chee: No. Just here. And here.
I remember thinking at the time, that the part of the brain that controls vision is at the back of the head. If he didn't hit that part, it might not be brain damage after all. But the cut on his forehead was deep, and it was oozing blood.
I went and checked where he fell.
At the restroom area, there is a steep staircase, with sharp, jagged edges where the tiles broke off.
At the bottom of the staircase, was a large pool of blood. It was the diameter of a Dominos regular pizza. It was a lot of blood, really, and I presumed that Chee had fallen, opened a gash on his head, lay there for several minutes as the blood pumped out, and then got back up again.
I went back to Chee.
Me: I saw the crime scene. There's a large pool of blood there, the size of a regular Dominos pizza.
Chee: What? Crime scene what? I need to see the crime scene.
Me: No. Let me settle the bill and let's go to a hospital. Let's wait for Ling.
Some people at a table nearby was telling me what to do.
They: Take him to the hospital.
Me: Yes. I know. We are going. We're waiting for his wife.
They: Take him to the hospital.
Me: You don't listen, do you? We. Are. Going.
Then I thought, why wait for Ling? We can just go now.
So we got the bartender to call a cab, and we went to Pantai Medical Center. I also called Ling to meet us there.
They took him into the plaster room, after some prodding. Ling arrived 15 minutes later, and the doctor checked on him 15 minutes after that.
Apparently, no broken bones, he requires some stitches, and they wanted to CT Scan Chee's brain.
I waited outside with Ling. Cracked some jokes about Langkawi, and 40 minutes later, Chee okayed by the physician.
Apparently, he did not suffer any brain damage. The loss of vision was most probably due to concussion. Even though I advised Chee to ask for as many painkillers as he could get hold of, he said no to any sort of drug.
I advised Ling to get him Ponstan and Damidol - painkillers used to alleviate toothache and period pains - and also to get him Benadryl.
It was an eventful night. The last time I went out with CHee, we got raided at a pub in Sunway.
We went out tonight, and his head was split open. Maybe next time, we should just do lunch.
At Bangsar, my regular haunt. We talked for a couple of hours, and then Chee went to the toilet. I was SMS-ing people, and BBM-ing them, and Fb-ing and Tweeting, for what seemed like 10 minutes, when I heard gasps of horror from the next table.
I looked up, and there was Chee, covered in blood. Like, literally. AT first, though, I thought he was covered in tequila and cranberry juice. I don't know why. Maybe cause I was a bit high.
He was groping about, and I realised that he couldn't see.
Took him down to his seat, some guy gave him a towel with ice inside and I began questioning Chee.
Me: What happened?
Chee: I can't remember.
Me: Did you black out?
Chee: I think I did. I remember peeing, and then it was totally black. I think I blacked out, dude.
Me: Did you see the future?
Chee: What?
Me: Nevermind. How many fingers in front of me right now?
Chee: I can't see, man.
Me: Okay. Where's your phone? I need to call Ling.
By the time he gave me his phone, Chee had regained his sight, but was a bit freaked.
Chee: Man, a blind artist - that's pathetic.
Ling is Chee's wife.
So I called her up, and asked her to come and pick us up, as Chee was in no state to drive. Starting to tell her was difficult.
Me: Umm... he's all right. Chee's okay now, but he bumped his head and I don't think he can drive.
Ling: I'll take a cab and be ther in a bit. Where are you guys?
Me: We are at Bangsar. At ___ ___.
Then, I grilled Chee again.
Me: You can see now?
Chee: Yeah.
Me: Dude, that's a lot of blood.
There was a large stain on his chest, and some dried blood on his forehead, chest and huge bruises on his shoulder as well as collarbone. There was a huge cut on his forehead which will leave a lighting-shaped scar. Blood was oozing out.
Most worrying, though, was the fact that he blacked out and lost his vision. That freaked both of us out.
Me: How many is this?
I waved three fingers.
Chee: Three.
Me: Do you feel pain at the back of your head?
Chee: No. Just here. And here.
I remember thinking at the time, that the part of the brain that controls vision is at the back of the head. If he didn't hit that part, it might not be brain damage after all. But the cut on his forehead was deep, and it was oozing blood.
I went and checked where he fell.
At the restroom area, there is a steep staircase, with sharp, jagged edges where the tiles broke off.
At the bottom of the staircase, was a large pool of blood. It was the diameter of a Dominos regular pizza. It was a lot of blood, really, and I presumed that Chee had fallen, opened a gash on his head, lay there for several minutes as the blood pumped out, and then got back up again.
I went back to Chee.
Me: I saw the crime scene. There's a large pool of blood there, the size of a regular Dominos pizza.
Chee: What? Crime scene what? I need to see the crime scene.
Me: No. Let me settle the bill and let's go to a hospital. Let's wait for Ling.
Some people at a table nearby was telling me what to do.
They: Take him to the hospital.
Me: Yes. I know. We are going. We're waiting for his wife.
They: Take him to the hospital.
Me: You don't listen, do you? We. Are. Going.
Then I thought, why wait for Ling? We can just go now.
So we got the bartender to call a cab, and we went to Pantai Medical Center. I also called Ling to meet us there.
They took him into the plaster room, after some prodding. Ling arrived 15 minutes later, and the doctor checked on him 15 minutes after that.
Apparently, no broken bones, he requires some stitches, and they wanted to CT Scan Chee's brain.
I waited outside with Ling. Cracked some jokes about Langkawi, and 40 minutes later, Chee okayed by the physician.
Apparently, he did not suffer any brain damage. The loss of vision was most probably due to concussion. Even though I advised Chee to ask for as many painkillers as he could get hold of, he said no to any sort of drug.
I advised Ling to get him Ponstan and Damidol - painkillers used to alleviate toothache and period pains - and also to get him Benadryl.
It was an eventful night. The last time I went out with CHee, we got raided at a pub in Sunway.
We went out tonight, and his head was split open. Maybe next time, we should just do lunch.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I Told You So
I told you race would be an issue sooner than you think.
WIth DAP's SIbu win, lines have been drawn!
-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------
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LINES HAVE BEEN DRAWN!
Next GE, if a race riot happens, I'm rioting at Harvey Norman.
Me: Race riot!
*pushes trolley with 42 inch flat-screen LED TV
Me: Race riot!
Next stop? Low Yat Plaza. I need a new power-supply unit, a graphics card, and a bigger flat-screen monitor.
Me: Race riot!
WIth DAP's SIbu win, lines have been drawn!
-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------
LINES HAVE BEEN DRAWN!
Next GE, if a race riot happens, I'm rioting at Harvey Norman.
Me: Race riot!
*pushes trolley with 42 inch flat-screen LED TV
Me: Race riot!
Next stop? Low Yat Plaza. I need a new power-supply unit, a graphics card, and a bigger flat-screen monitor.
Me: Race riot!
How Scriptwriters Get Screwed (In Hollywood)
Read this, man.
This is how bad things could get, creatively, for scriptwriters in Hollywood.
This is why, to protect my shit, I am going to ask for co-producing roles in my next movies. Thankfully, I work in Malaysia, where filmmaking is like a cottage industry. Family business and all that.
I think the guy, William Martell, is right and has unique insights as to the world of scripts.
And yes, it might be bad in Hollywood, but some get paid 100K per script. One script got US$3 million. That's the standard rate. Over here, we go over the same shit, for much, much, much, much, much, much, much less.
Oh well. I hope I don't have to write something similar about my experiences. I'm very new to the industry and has had a pretty clean ride so far. Pretty much.
This is how bad things could get, creatively, for scriptwriters in Hollywood.
This is why, to protect my shit, I am going to ask for co-producing roles in my next movies. Thankfully, I work in Malaysia, where filmmaking is like a cottage industry. Family business and all that.
I think the guy, William Martell, is right and has unique insights as to the world of scripts.
And yes, it might be bad in Hollywood, but some get paid 100K per script. One script got US$3 million. That's the standard rate. Over here, we go over the same shit, for much, much, much, much, much, much, much less.
Oh well. I hope I don't have to write something similar about my experiences. I'm very new to the industry and has had a pretty clean ride so far. Pretty much.
Super Robot Wars Alpha and Alpha Gaiden
I have been playing these two games for years now. Started from beginning till end for about what, 11? 20 times? I can't remember.
I have played it backwards and forwards and know it like the back of my hand. No secret I haven't uncovered. AND STILL! It manages to surprise me now and then.
For example, a robot that cannot be hit, the SRX (Super Robot X-Type) after I have done upgrading it, was hit. And it exploded. By a lesser boss.
Apparently, there is a way to get the Nu Gundam HWS early on. There is a way to get the Full-Armour ZZGundam (it's pronounced Double Zeta Gundam), etc, etc.
And then, I also discovered the meaning of certain high-level kanji and their effects. The game is entirely in Japanese, so the superpowers of certain pilots are marked by certain kanji - Japanese ideograms. One is Miracle, which casts Motivate three times(raises ki-ryoku by 30), Spirit (triple damage), Speed-Up, 100% Hit and Flash (100% evade). A combo worth 220 SP points, for only 100SP.
There is Raid, with similar effect, and other things.
I got a call about my next few movie projects. Guy had nice words to say about my story. It will go ahead, I presume. And I do hope there's money in this.
Man, I love my life.
I have played it backwards and forwards and know it like the back of my hand. No secret I haven't uncovered. AND STILL! It manages to surprise me now and then.
For example, a robot that cannot be hit, the SRX (Super Robot X-Type) after I have done upgrading it, was hit. And it exploded. By a lesser boss.
Apparently, there is a way to get the Nu Gundam HWS early on. There is a way to get the Full-Armour ZZGundam (it's pronounced Double Zeta Gundam), etc, etc.
And then, I also discovered the meaning of certain high-level kanji and their effects. The game is entirely in Japanese, so the superpowers of certain pilots are marked by certain kanji - Japanese ideograms. One is Miracle, which casts Motivate three times(raises ki-ryoku by 30), Spirit (triple damage), Speed-Up, 100% Hit and Flash (100% evade). A combo worth 220 SP points, for only 100SP.
There is Raid, with similar effect, and other things.
I got a call about my next few movie projects. Guy had nice words to say about my story. It will go ahead, I presume. And I do hope there's money in this.
Man, I love my life.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Intermission: Recess
Today is a work day. I work on Sundays. Been up all night, doing some other stuff. I need to take a day off just to finish my work, and I think I will do that, sometime this week.
I have around five hours of sleep before I start at the office.
A lot of loose ends. Moving parts. Blah blah blah. I will celebrate as soon as I finish them all. But that is in the future.
Right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I stay up as long as I want, I write as much as I want, and nothing as well as no one, matters more than just plain old me.
By this time next year, I'll be more famous than I am, ever. I may be infamous, but I don't care. Fame has its uses. And annoyances.
Not something I seek, popularity or infamy, but it comes my way. And whatever or whoever comes my way, I deal with it. Right, wrong. Good, bad. Doesn't really matter to me. To meeeee.
I look at the people, most of them scared. They live a life coming from fear. I have nothing to fear. Not anymore. Desiring nothing - not money, fame, recognition, approval, being right or simply winning - I can do more things, HAVE done more stuff, and the quality can be improved, as it has.
In time, things can only get better. Honestly, I can't wait to be 40. I was born 40, and all my life has been to prepare for 40. If I live that long.
Okay. Sleep.
I have around five hours of sleep before I start at the office.
A lot of loose ends. Moving parts. Blah blah blah. I will celebrate as soon as I finish them all. But that is in the future.
Right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I stay up as long as I want, I write as much as I want, and nothing as well as no one, matters more than just plain old me.
By this time next year, I'll be more famous than I am, ever. I may be infamous, but I don't care. Fame has its uses. And annoyances.
Not something I seek, popularity or infamy, but it comes my way. And whatever or whoever comes my way, I deal with it. Right, wrong. Good, bad. Doesn't really matter to me. To meeeee.
Mama just killed a man. Put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now he's dead.
Mama, life has just begun. But now I've gone and thrown it all away. Mama, oooOOOOOooooh. Didn't mean to make you cry. If I'm not back again this time tomorrow. Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.
Too late, my time has come. Sends shivers down my spine. Body's aching all the time
Goodbye, everybody. I've got to go. Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth. Mama, oooooooh (Any where the wind blows). I don't want to die. Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.
I look at the people, most of them scared. They live a life coming from fear. I have nothing to fear. Not anymore. Desiring nothing - not money, fame, recognition, approval, being right or simply winning - I can do more things, HAVE done more stuff, and the quality can be improved, as it has.
In time, things can only get better. Honestly, I can't wait to be 40. I was born 40, and all my life has been to prepare for 40. If I live that long.
Okay. Sleep.
The Greatest
You will grow old, and ugly. If you're not dead by then.
And I will watch all of you die.
I won't die. Only the good die young. I'm the greatest.
And I will watch all of you die.
I won't die. Only the good die young. I'm the greatest.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Master of Time and Space
I have loads to do. Too many things usually just crash my system.
Two days ago, I was kept awake until 6am because I developed a headache due to my long hair. I can't keep long hair. Gives me severe headache. So I went for a haircut yesterday, after my dentist cancelled on me.
These days, you can call me self-absorbed. People come to me with their political problems and I just sit and nod.
Uhuh. Ooo. I never saw that coming from a mile away. Ahah. Where have I heard this before?
Blah blah blah blah. Blah. Blah blah blah.
Some people think what they think, or what other people think, matter. Unless you're a politician, in which case, it sucks to be you, it don't mean a thing. And it don't got that swing.
The last thing on my plate right now - the least important bit, is minding other people's business. Or become anyone's pawn. Just because I'm a Malay AND a man, doesn't mean I am that dumb. Or maybe I am. Big fucking deal.
I mean, people see a Malay, right. And a man, they immediately think that guy's stupid and horny.
Can't do much about the stupid bit, but I trained my horniness under the Whore-Priestesses of Shabda-Oud. No one can bribe me with pussy. Cause it's only worth 50 bucks.
I got shit to do, man. And I am not about to add other people's shit on my fucking plate.
I got like, four movies to do. A few TV series. Some Internet proposal shit and other stuff. I always make sure I pledge 300% of my capacity, because the nature of these things is that 70% of the stuff will never happen. You deal with a lot of prospect work, so a lot of them just remain prospects. Some, do happen, and I am gearing myself up for those real projects.
Imporrtant thing right now is to get some rest before the final push later tonight. I'm going to bed and waking up after midnight.
Cheers!
Two days ago, I was kept awake until 6am because I developed a headache due to my long hair. I can't keep long hair. Gives me severe headache. So I went for a haircut yesterday, after my dentist cancelled on me.
These days, you can call me self-absorbed. People come to me with their political problems and I just sit and nod.
Uhuh. Ooo. I never saw that coming from a mile away. Ahah. Where have I heard this before?
Blah blah blah blah. Blah. Blah blah blah.
Some people think what they think, or what other people think, matter. Unless you're a politician, in which case, it sucks to be you, it don't mean a thing. And it don't got that swing.
The last thing on my plate right now - the least important bit, is minding other people's business. Or become anyone's pawn. Just because I'm a Malay AND a man, doesn't mean I am that dumb. Or maybe I am. Big fucking deal.
I mean, people see a Malay, right. And a man, they immediately think that guy's stupid and horny.
Can't do much about the stupid bit, but I trained my horniness under the Whore-Priestesses of Shabda-Oud. No one can bribe me with pussy. Cause it's only worth 50 bucks.
I got shit to do, man. And I am not about to add other people's shit on my fucking plate.
I got like, four movies to do. A few TV series. Some Internet proposal shit and other stuff. I always make sure I pledge 300% of my capacity, because the nature of these things is that 70% of the stuff will never happen. You deal with a lot of prospect work, so a lot of them just remain prospects. Some, do happen, and I am gearing myself up for those real projects.
Imporrtant thing right now is to get some rest before the final push later tonight. I'm going to bed and waking up after midnight.
Cheers!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
I Just Gulped Down Half a Bottle of Cough Medication
What the fuck is nuffink?
And why is 'tt' short for 'that'? Shouldn't it be 'tht'?
U humens sudn't come here. Or you will SUFFAR! And it will EXPLOD!
And why is 'tt' short for 'that'? Shouldn't it be 'tht'?
U humens sudn't come here. Or you will SUFFAR! And it will EXPLOD!
Lngg
Some of my seniors and old, geriartric people thought they had it bad when my generation started with all the lols and lulz and a/s/l and battr8s and penis-mightiers.
But they will surely die in today's world of Internet language.
I saw this posted on Facebook the other day:
Pntt pkmk mk k lh. Aq sk mkn kcg
Well, something like it.
Yes, old people, welcome to the new language - no vowels (except for a in 'aq', which is 'AKU').
It started probably at Kolej Tunku Kurshiah (KTK). For years, we have been calling them KaTaK, and this has probably angered them enough to rid the world of vowels forever.
As we all know, angry teenage girls explode in a shockwave of limitless energy. In fact, if we throw a KaTaK into an a nuclear reactor - without the nuclear - that single reactor can power the entire northern hemisphere for 10,000 years.
Now, a new standard has been created by Squirrelking - KING OF ALL FAN-FICTION WRITERS.
Here, I reproduce his first fan-fiction, without permission, to be gentle on new readers:
Get his stuff from:
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1047027/squirrelking or click here.
But they will surely die in today's world of Internet language.
I saw this posted on Facebook the other day:
Pntt pkmk mk k lh. Aq sk mkn kcg
Well, something like it.
Yes, old people, welcome to the new language - no vowels (except for a in 'aq', which is 'AKU').
It started probably at Kolej Tunku Kurshiah (KTK). For years, we have been calling them KaTaK, and this has probably angered them enough to rid the world of vowels forever.
As we all know, angry teenage girls explode in a shockwave of limitless energy. In fact, if we throw a KaTaK into an a nuclear reactor - without the nuclear - that single reactor can power the entire northern hemisphere for 10,000 years.
Now, a new standard has been created by Squirrelking - KING OF ALL FAN-FICTION WRITERS.
Here, I reproduce his first fan-fiction, without permission, to be gentle on new readers:
Half-Life: Full-life Consequences
John Freeman who was Gordon Freemans brother was one day in an office typing on a computer. He got an email from his brother that said that aliens and monsters were attacking his place and aksed him for help so he went.
John Freeman got his computer shut down and wet on the platform to go up to the roof of the building where he left his motorcycle and normal people close because he was in his office lab coat. John Freeman got on his motorcycl and said "its time for me to live up to my family name and face full life consequences" so he had to go.
John Freeman ramped off the building and did a backflip and landed. He kept driving down the road and made sure there was no zombies around because he ddint have weapon.
The contrysides were nice and the plants were singing and the birds and the sun was almost down from the top of the sky. the mood was set for John Freemans quest to help his brother where he was. John Freeman looked around the countrysides and said "its a good day to do what has to be done by me and help my brother to defeat the enemys".
John Freeman was late so he had to drive really fast. A cop car was hiden near by so when John Freeman went by the cops came and wanted to give him a ticket. Here John Freeman saw the first monster because the cop was posessed and had headcrabs.
"I cant give you my lisense officer" John Freeman said
"Why not?" said the headcrab oficer back to John Freeman.
"Because you are headcrab zombie" so John Freeman shot the oficer in the head and drove off thinking "my brother is in trouble there" and went faster.
John Freeman had to go faster like the speed of sound and got there fast because Gordon needed him where he was. John Freeman looked at road signs and saw "Ravenholm" with someons writing under it saying "u shudnt come here" so John Freeman almost turned around but heard screaming like Gordon so he went faster again.
John Freeman drove in and did another flip n jumped off his motorbike and the motor bike took out some headcrab zombies infront of John Freeman. John Freeman smiled and walked fast. John Freeman then looked on the ground and found wepon so he pickd it up and fired fast at zombie goasts in front of a house.
John Freeman said "Zombie goasts leave this place" and the zombie goasts said "but this is our house" and John Freeman felt sorry for them becaus they couldnt live there anymore because they were zombie goasts so he blew up the house and killed the zombie goasts so they were at piece.
Then John Freeman herd another scream from his brother so he kept walking really faster to get where he was. Ravenholdm was nothing like the countrysides there was no birds singing and the pants were dead and teh dirt was messy and bloody from headcrabs.
When John Freeman got to where the screaming was started from he found his brother Gorden Freeman fightin the final bosss and Gordon said "John Freeman! Over here!" so John Freeman went there to where Gordon Freeman was fighting. John Freeman fired his bullet from teh gun really fast and the bullets went and shot the final boss in the eyes and the final boss couldnt see.
Gordon Freeman said "its time to end this ones and for all!" and punched the final boss in the face and the final boss fell. John Freeman said "thanks i could help, bro" and Gordon Freeman said "you should come here earlier next time" and they laughed.
The laughed overed quickly though because John Freeman yelled "LOOK OUT BRO!" and pointed up to the top of the sky. Gordon Freeman looked up and said "NOO! John Freeman run out of here fast as you can!" and John Freeman walked real fast out.
John Freeman loked back and saw Gordon get steppd on by the next boss and he was mad and angry.
"I'll get you back evil boss!" John Freeman yelled at the top of lungs.
to be continued..?
Get his stuff from:
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1047027/squirrelking or click here.
IT WILL EXPLOD!
This is my favourite YouTube series ever, and it has reached its conclusion.
Enjoy, the fourth and final arc of the Half-Life: Full-Life Consequences tetralogy.
Enjoy, the fourth and final arc of the Half-Life: Full-Life Consequences tetralogy.
HitMan
I have had two hours of sleep in the past two days. When you don't sleep, your body gets tired, but only up to a certain point.
It's just a road bump of sorts. A thing. Once you go over that bump, you crossed a line, motherfucker.
You start getting all energetic again. It's a rush, but it feels fake, like aspartane is to sugar.
Then you start killing people, and stuffing them in your fridge.
Waitaminute. I don't have a fridge.
Then, I'll stuff them in my car and drive to a-
I don't have a car.
So now, in order to dispose of bodies, I need to have a meat grinder and a pig farm. I live near Selangor, so that's not a problem.
Okay. COugh syrup taking effect.
It's just a road bump of sorts. A thing. Once you go over that bump, you crossed a line, motherfucker.
You start getting all energetic again. It's a rush, but it feels fake, like aspartane is to sugar.
Then you start killing people, and stuffing them in your fridge.
Waitaminute. I don't have a fridge.
Then, I'll stuff them in my car and drive to a-
I don't have a car.
So now, in order to dispose of bodies, I need to have a meat grinder and a pig farm. I live near Selangor, so that's not a problem.
Okay. COugh syrup taking effect.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Nooner
I just spent a few hours writing three stories. Will look at them again in the afternoon.
I want to see how my brain handles under these conditions. Will find out when I wake up in a few hours.
For now, sleep.
I want to see how my brain handles under these conditions. Will find out when I wake up in a few hours.
For now, sleep.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Malaysian Nuclear Power Plants: A Dream Come True
SOme people want to stop nuclear power plants from being built in Malaysia.
I say, go for it! Other than synthesizing the Uran Spark or solving cold fusion, nuclear power is our best bet.
Sure, they want pros and cons. SO here are the pros and cons:
Pros:
1. WIth Malaysia being Malaysia, a nuclear leak will happen. SOme stupid candlelit vigil with some lipstick liberals will rupture the lead walls with their sheer stupidity. That, or some beureaucrazy will ensure a leak happen in time. This will create superheroes. I want to be the first in line to be turned into a costumed adventurer. You've read the stories, saw the movies. This is my last chance to have superpowers.
2. We can finally use nuclear power to fuel up electric cars. Fuck the oil companies! Fight fire with nuclear, baby! Yeah! I once sent a proposal for Malaysia to adopt renewable, green energy like hydrogen, wind (turbines inside giant baloons 1,000km above sea-level), solar, as well as that wave thing. It was rejected, or something. The guy I spoke to was an idiot. He tried to explain Google to me, when I already constructed my own search engine when I was in college. I didn't think Malaysia will ever let anything jeapordise Petronas, until this nuclear thing.
3. And finally, a lot of idiots will die. A lot of smart people, hut idiots will die too. Yay!
Cons:
1. Urm... errr... nothing.
I'm all for nuclear power. Hooray!
I say, go for it! Other than synthesizing the Uran Spark or solving cold fusion, nuclear power is our best bet.
Sure, they want pros and cons. SO here are the pros and cons:
Pros:
1. WIth Malaysia being Malaysia, a nuclear leak will happen. SOme stupid candlelit vigil with some lipstick liberals will rupture the lead walls with their sheer stupidity. That, or some beureaucrazy will ensure a leak happen in time. This will create superheroes. I want to be the first in line to be turned into a costumed adventurer. You've read the stories, saw the movies. This is my last chance to have superpowers.
2. We can finally use nuclear power to fuel up electric cars. Fuck the oil companies! Fight fire with nuclear, baby! Yeah! I once sent a proposal for Malaysia to adopt renewable, green energy like hydrogen, wind (turbines inside giant baloons 1,000km above sea-level), solar, as well as that wave thing. It was rejected, or something. The guy I spoke to was an idiot. He tried to explain Google to me, when I already constructed my own search engine when I was in college. I didn't think Malaysia will ever let anything jeapordise Petronas, until this nuclear thing.
3. And finally, a lot of idiots will die. A lot of smart people, hut idiots will die too. Yay!
Cons:
1. Urm... errr... nothing.
I'm all for nuclear power. Hooray!
The Early Worm Gets the Finger
I have an early day tomorrow, so I'm turning in early.
Already downed cough medication, and no amount of robot-killing is going to keep me awake.
Things are looking up. Man United lost, despite winning, and looks set to lose even more.
Things are looking up and already, I have three meetings/arrangements set up for my weekend.
I get to set my beliefs concerning the new generation and social media to test, soon. So in whatever form, the vision I had will see the light of day, Science-willing.
Now, if I can just make money out of it. THAT, my friends, will definitely make my week.
This is Amir Hafizi, saying, "We need nuclear reactors in Malaysia, so that I can get bitten by a radioactive journalist and become Super-invulnerable, amongst other superpowers."
For now, the daily porn.
Already downed cough medication, and no amount of robot-killing is going to keep me awake.
Things are looking up. Man United lost, despite winning, and looks set to lose even more.
Things are looking up and already, I have three meetings/arrangements set up for my weekend.
I get to set my beliefs concerning the new generation and social media to test, soon. So in whatever form, the vision I had will see the light of day, Science-willing.
Now, if I can just make money out of it. THAT, my friends, will definitely make my week.
This is Amir Hafizi, saying, "We need nuclear reactors in Malaysia, so that I can get bitten by a radioactive journalist and become Super-invulnerable, amongst other superpowers."
For now, the daily porn.
Monday, May 10, 2010
What a Show of Striking Dominance!
Manchester United won 4-0 against Stoke City at Old Trafford. So they retain their crown as FIRST runner-up of the English Premier League.
This, on the heels that Old Trafford itself will be sold, with their training facilities hung, drawn and quartered.
This is karma, bro.
The good thing is, the pretenders, the fakes who once supported Man Utd just cause they WERE strong, will now move to Chelsea.
Man Utd will be the next Liverpool. They will win perhaps just one more premiership, and then they might be gone. Relegated! Into Conference football!
Muahahahahahaha!
This, on the heels that Old Trafford itself will be sold, with their training facilities hung, drawn and quartered.
This is karma, bro.
The good thing is, the pretenders, the fakes who once supported Man Utd just cause they WERE strong, will now move to Chelsea.
Man Utd will be the next Liverpool. They will win perhaps just one more premiership, and then they might be gone. Relegated! Into Conference football!
Muahahahahahaha!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
The Man from U.N.C.L.E: I, Malay
Even though I am genetically half-Chinese and half-Malay, many people consider me a Malay.
Since I'm a man, and I'm Malay, a lot of people assume that I am stupid and horny.
Well, I guess I am horny. I'm horny all the time. Oh my Science, I'm so horny, I am masturbating as I type. How's my one-handed typing skills?
Maybe I am stupid, cause I am not a millionaire. Anyone who is not a millionaire is stupid.
What else?
Oh yes, I'm lazy.
I'm a laziest ass motherfucker who ever fucked your mother.
I get handouts from the Government. Why, just this morning, Uncle Najib, our PM, knocked on my door and gave me two full bags of money.
Najib: Here's your Bumiputera money, nephew!
Me: Thanks, Uncle! How much thic time?
Najib: Oh, just two million. You can't work hard like Lee Kuan Yin, cause Lee Kuan Yin got rich cause of hard work, and you - a Malay - can only be rich if you kiss my ass.
Me: I don't have to kiss your ass, do I, Uncle?
Najib: No, that would be incest. Hey, I heard this Anwar guy is susceptible to anal rape?
Me: I can't say anything, Uncle, that would be subjudice.
Najib: Oh, we don't follow the law here in Malaysia. The law is just for show. We are so lawless, no lawyers can make any money.
Me: Yeah, I know. I gave one lawyer two cents last night. He ran away deliriously happy.
After that, Uncle Najib gave me some spy gadgets all Malays should have:
1. Fancy smartphones.
2. Fancy smartphone covers.
3. Ringtones and ringback tones for my fancy smartphones.
Najib: I want you to spy for me.
Me: What's my assignment?
Najib: Oh, I dunno. Just be evil and spiteful. Make sure that the Care Bears never win.
Me: Roger that, Uncle. Last night, Butt-Heart and NakedBear and Handicapped-Heart and Holier-Than-Thou Bear just ran for their moral high-ground, which was incidentally below sea-levels. ANyway, I got to sleep now. Thanks for the handouts! Now that I'm a multi-millionaire, I'm no longer stupid. Just horny.
Najib: I got like, 20 million bumiputeras to give handouts to. Thank Science that every day, is a long day, allowing me to send all these handouts amounting to RM850 trillion daily. Science-speed, my nephew. Science bless us all.
Me: Science-willing.
Since I'm a man, and I'm Malay, a lot of people assume that I am stupid and horny.
Well, I guess I am horny. I'm horny all the time. Oh my Science, I'm so horny, I am masturbating as I type. How's my one-handed typing skills?
Maybe I am stupid, cause I am not a millionaire. Anyone who is not a millionaire is stupid.
What else?
Oh yes, I'm lazy.
I'm a laziest ass motherfucker who ever fucked your mother.
I get handouts from the Government. Why, just this morning, Uncle Najib, our PM, knocked on my door and gave me two full bags of money.
Najib: Here's your Bumiputera money, nephew!
Me: Thanks, Uncle! How much thic time?
Najib: Oh, just two million. You can't work hard like Lee Kuan Yin, cause Lee Kuan Yin got rich cause of hard work, and you - a Malay - can only be rich if you kiss my ass.
Me: I don't have to kiss your ass, do I, Uncle?
Najib: No, that would be incest. Hey, I heard this Anwar guy is susceptible to anal rape?
Me: I can't say anything, Uncle, that would be subjudice.
Najib: Oh, we don't follow the law here in Malaysia. The law is just for show. We are so lawless, no lawyers can make any money.
Me: Yeah, I know. I gave one lawyer two cents last night. He ran away deliriously happy.
After that, Uncle Najib gave me some spy gadgets all Malays should have:
1. Fancy smartphones.
2. Fancy smartphone covers.
3. Ringtones and ringback tones for my fancy smartphones.
Najib: I want you to spy for me.
Me: What's my assignment?
Najib: Oh, I dunno. Just be evil and spiteful. Make sure that the Care Bears never win.
Me: Roger that, Uncle. Last night, Butt-Heart and NakedBear and Handicapped-Heart and Holier-Than-Thou Bear just ran for their moral high-ground, which was incidentally below sea-levels. ANyway, I got to sleep now. Thanks for the handouts! Now that I'm a multi-millionaire, I'm no longer stupid. Just horny.
Najib: I got like, 20 million bumiputeras to give handouts to. Thank Science that every day, is a long day, allowing me to send all these handouts amounting to RM850 trillion daily. Science-speed, my nephew. Science bless us all.
Me: Science-willing.
Justifications
I got rid of my justifications a few years ago.
I can't and won't justify myself. I'm just so fucking evil. And sexy.
I can't and won't justify myself. I'm just so fucking evil. And sexy.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Days of Future Past
I used to keep track of what happened to people I didn't like. People I thought wronged me. All of them, no exception, met really stupid, painful or even tragic existence and situations.
I was addicted to schadenfreude, and since all those people are either liars, hypocrites, backstabbers or other bad things, they all suffered.
Several years ago, I stopped doing that. I stopped cataloguing the misery of my so-called 'enemies' and undesireables.
Doing so, is to propagate hate. To nurture hate. If you look for flaws, you will find them. If you look for failures, you will definitely find them. It is a waste of time.
Nowadays, I look for success, wherever that may be, in whatever form.
It's easy to laugh at people whom I do not like. They already carry with them the seed of the rot. The seed of destruction. Being fake, they have no capacity to be happy, and living an unhappy life is worse than death, really.
Noawdays, I take care of my own shit. Other people can suck my dick.
I was addicted to schadenfreude, and since all those people are either liars, hypocrites, backstabbers or other bad things, they all suffered.
Several years ago, I stopped doing that. I stopped cataloguing the misery of my so-called 'enemies' and undesireables.
Doing so, is to propagate hate. To nurture hate. If you look for flaws, you will find them. If you look for failures, you will definitely find them. It is a waste of time.
Nowadays, I look for success, wherever that may be, in whatever form.
It's easy to laugh at people whom I do not like. They already carry with them the seed of the rot. The seed of destruction. Being fake, they have no capacity to be happy, and living an unhappy life is worse than death, really.
Noawdays, I take care of my own shit. Other people can suck my dick.
The Malay Male Talks About Love
Some people on Facebook and Twitter are talking about love, so I think I'll weigh in on the matter.
They are saying that, "We love without reason, and without reason, we hate."
The late Yasmin Ahmad once said, "You do not need to understand anyone to love them."
"Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel," wrote Neil Gaiman.
Me? I just don't give a fuck. I love chicken, for example. I don't know why. Maybe because it's delicious. I love playing SUper Robot Wars Alpha and Alpha Gaiden, cause it seems like the game was made with my interests in mind.
Other than that, nothing. I feel nothing. I don't feel numb. I just feel nothing, and that, to me, is happiness.
One Malay dude who wears sunglasses even indoors (to better check out your boobs, my dear) once asked me, derisively, almost contemptuously, "Have you ever been in love?" Cause he thinks I'm like George in Seinfeld.
He was retaliating to my attack on family units.
I thought for a while, what Chris Rock said on the matter: "If you have never thought about murder, you ain't never been in love."
And I thought about my plans for genocide and going by Chris Rock's definition, I was probably very much in love.
But I said to him, "Do hookers count?"
And the guy smiled, a sneer on his already ugly stupid face.
Eventually, this guy lost his job, his girlfriend, and had rumours about his dick being small and tasting sour spread all over Malaysia.
Here, my friend, is my last laugh:
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
They are saying that, "We love without reason, and without reason, we hate."
The late Yasmin Ahmad once said, "You do not need to understand anyone to love them."
"Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel," wrote Neil Gaiman.
Me? I just don't give a fuck. I love chicken, for example. I don't know why. Maybe because it's delicious. I love playing SUper Robot Wars Alpha and Alpha Gaiden, cause it seems like the game was made with my interests in mind.
Other than that, nothing. I feel nothing. I don't feel numb. I just feel nothing, and that, to me, is happiness.
One Malay dude who wears sunglasses even indoors (to better check out your boobs, my dear) once asked me, derisively, almost contemptuously, "Have you ever been in love?" Cause he thinks I'm like George in Seinfeld.
He was retaliating to my attack on family units.
I thought for a while, what Chris Rock said on the matter: "If you have never thought about murder, you ain't never been in love."
And I thought about my plans for genocide and going by Chris Rock's definition, I was probably very much in love.
But I said to him, "Do hookers count?"
And the guy smiled, a sneer on his already ugly stupid face.
Eventually, this guy lost his job, his girlfriend, and had rumours about his dick being small and tasting sour spread all over Malaysia.
Here, my friend, is my last laugh:
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
Full Stop: Conversation Enders
Some people say to me, "You suck, Amir!"
And I say, "Nipples. I suck nipples. And clitorises. Clitori. Whatever. Labia major and labia minor."
And then they get this shocked look on their stupid faces.
"I also find that the small of the back is a good place to suck. And necks, and just behind the ears. Some areas on the thighs, etc."
And I say, "Nipples. I suck nipples. And clitorises. Clitori. Whatever. Labia major and labia minor."
And then they get this shocked look on their stupid faces.
"I also find that the small of the back is a good place to suck. And necks, and just behind the ears. Some areas on the thighs, etc."
Sleep Deprivation: Do not disturb.
Tomorrow, I am going to sleep for most of the day, as well as at night. Do not call me for anything. Unless you're CHeepork and have the final Lost episodes. And Spartacus. And Glee.
Soylent Green
I just spent half an hour, looking at photos of people eating at barbecues.
I cook a pretty mean barbecue.
Look, a barbecue has to have a few things:
1. Easy-to-cook, easy-to-eat food like sausages, burgers, small meat cuts, teriyaki, satay, etc.
2. The special. Some people barbecue a whole goat. SOme, go for seafood, like crabs or prawn or oysters, mussels, etc.
3. The usual stuff - wings, meat, breasts, etc.
Some people go to barbecues and they do not want to work too hard at eating things, so grilled sausages, burgers, etc are good.
Some, don't mind the extra work, so we have the rest.
Marinating is a must, for me.
My marinating recipe is simple:
Garlic, onion, shallots, ginger, chilli powder, curry powder, a bit of fresh tumeric root and Lea & Perrins - blended. Add honey and rosemary for chicken. Pepper, basil, oregano for some of the meat.
A trick to soften meat without meat tenderiser is jackfruit leaves. You slow-boil the meat with the leaves for an hour or so, if that's your inclination. Half-boiled meat, marinated, then grilled, is tender, but loses out on the juiciness and taste.
I prefer lumping everything together for an overnight soak.
Man. I miss my barbecues.
I cook a pretty mean barbecue.
Look, a barbecue has to have a few things:
1. Easy-to-cook, easy-to-eat food like sausages, burgers, small meat cuts, teriyaki, satay, etc.
2. The special. Some people barbecue a whole goat. SOme, go for seafood, like crabs or prawn or oysters, mussels, etc.
3. The usual stuff - wings, meat, breasts, etc.
Some people go to barbecues and they do not want to work too hard at eating things, so grilled sausages, burgers, etc are good.
Some, don't mind the extra work, so we have the rest.
Marinating is a must, for me.
My marinating recipe is simple:
Garlic, onion, shallots, ginger, chilli powder, curry powder, a bit of fresh tumeric root and Lea & Perrins - blended. Add honey and rosemary for chicken. Pepper, basil, oregano for some of the meat.
A trick to soften meat without meat tenderiser is jackfruit leaves. You slow-boil the meat with the leaves for an hour or so, if that's your inclination. Half-boiled meat, marinated, then grilled, is tender, but loses out on the juiciness and taste.
I prefer lumping everything together for an overnight soak.
Man. I miss my barbecues.
House of M: Soldier of Fortune
Some people say that journalists - writers - are mercenaries. Once more, with feeling.
Others have told to my face that journalists are responsbile for how the public thinks. That the country has gone to hell, and that journalists made it so.
Wow. I didn't know that I was that powerful. Kun fayakun. Be, and so be it.
In Islamic traditions, it is said that in your grave, everyone will be asked by two angels this question, amongst other things: marobbuka - who is your God? Can you say, Amir Hafizi?
"Marobbuka?"
"Amir Hafizi is my God. He changed the world! I was merely playing along to the world that he created! It was all his fault!"
Let's look at say, movie reviews. I said, and am saying, that Iron Man 2 is a good, enjoyable movie. That is one view - mine. There are other views, sometimes in direct opposition to mine.
I believe that Babe is one of the greatest movies ever made by mankind. Roger Ebert doesn't think so. Who is right? Who is wrong? Is there a right or wrong?
The secret is simple - you decide. You get your vote.
I said it pure and simple, years ago, that writing up to 2000 words about something or someone doesn't fully encapsulate the real, whole essence of that something or someone. Or doing a movie about a subject. Or a 100,000-word book. You can spend over 40 years with somebody, like my parents did, and still not know him or her.
The medical profession has been around for what, thousands of years? Hundreds? And even the best doctors in the world don't know everything about the human body.
Perhaps one day, the role of us journalists - sorry, mercenaries - is not to come up with views of our own, but to facilitate discussion and encourage many different viewpoints to be expressed. Not to fight for any one perception, as some do, or one side of the story, but to ensure that people have enough information to make up their own minds about something.
End of the day, it is up to the individual, who make up the people, to decide.
Others have told to my face that journalists are responsbile for how the public thinks. That the country has gone to hell, and that journalists made it so.
Wow. I didn't know that I was that powerful. Kun fayakun. Be, and so be it.
In Islamic traditions, it is said that in your grave, everyone will be asked by two angels this question, amongst other things: marobbuka - who is your God? Can you say, Amir Hafizi?
"Marobbuka?"
"Amir Hafizi is my God. He changed the world! I was merely playing along to the world that he created! It was all his fault!"
Let's look at say, movie reviews. I said, and am saying, that Iron Man 2 is a good, enjoyable movie. That is one view - mine. There are other views, sometimes in direct opposition to mine.
I believe that Babe is one of the greatest movies ever made by mankind. Roger Ebert doesn't think so. Who is right? Who is wrong? Is there a right or wrong?
The secret is simple - you decide. You get your vote.
I said it pure and simple, years ago, that writing up to 2000 words about something or someone doesn't fully encapsulate the real, whole essence of that something or someone. Or doing a movie about a subject. Or a 100,000-word book. You can spend over 40 years with somebody, like my parents did, and still not know him or her.
The medical profession has been around for what, thousands of years? Hundreds? And even the best doctors in the world don't know everything about the human body.
Perhaps one day, the role of us journalists - sorry, mercenaries - is not to come up with views of our own, but to facilitate discussion and encourage many different viewpoints to be expressed. Not to fight for any one perception, as some do, or one side of the story, but to ensure that people have enough information to make up their own minds about something.
End of the day, it is up to the individual, who make up the people, to decide.
House of M: Previously, on Amir Hafizi
You know, people ask me all the time.
"Have you realised that we are right, you are wrong and have you decided to agree with our way of thinking?"
And I would go, "Huh?"
Cause, I don't keep track. Too old for that game. Right and wrong are not absolutes. Is killing someone wrong? What if you're an executioner? A soldier? Jack Ketch? Self-defense?
Over a millenimum and a half ago, marrying nine-year-old kids was all right, in some cultures. Try and do it now.
Way I see it, life is a great democracy. People choose their own truths, and from that mosaic of votes - black and white pixels - a picture will appear. What it depicts depends on the individual.
So when people try to impose their bullshit on me, as I sometimes do on them, I just don't give a shit.
I am only one man. My vote is one pixel. On whatever part of the graph, forming a picture. I do not hold the keys to the truth of the universe.
Whether I think something is right or wrong does not make it so. Whatever you think as right or wrong, does not make it so either. Therefore, people who go for the moral high ground are just building an imaginary foundation. Is there a need for foundation?
Is there a need for resistance?
I have not learned enough to be perfect, and I continue to make mistakes. SMall ones, big ones. Only the foolish believes he or she knows everything. For that delusion inhibits growth.
It is hard to fill a cup that is already full. - Neytiri's Mom, Avatar.
My own mother, knows emotion. She could see emotion as well as any doctor can identify body parts during a surgery. She is the ultimate tempestuous knot of feelings as my father is the objective, machine-like intellect.
Me? I go for information. My thing is information flow. It's like the human circulatory system.
That being said, it would be foolish to close one's self to other things as well.
When people ask me why I do so many things at once, I tell them that I do not. I do one thing at a time.
30 years. It's been 30 years. I have no wisdom for you. All I learned can be summed up in perhaps two things:
1. There is no center of the universe. And if there is one, you are not it.
2. Be happy. Happiness is a decision, not a condition.
A lot of people delude themselves that pain and suffering means entitlement. We live in a society where in some parts, to some people, being in pain means that you are better than everyone else. When other people do not recognise that, do not sympathise, they feel neglected and wronged, creating even more pain.
The ultimate pain is death. If you crave pain so much, why don't you die?
Been there, done that. I am not impressed with pain. I kicked my addiction to pain years ago. In search of enlightenement, I prowled the back streets of Bangkok and the open paths of Phuket.
I found my answer. What's yours?
"Have you realised that we are right, you are wrong and have you decided to agree with our way of thinking?"
And I would go, "Huh?"
Cause, I don't keep track. Too old for that game. Right and wrong are not absolutes. Is killing someone wrong? What if you're an executioner? A soldier? Jack Ketch? Self-defense?
Over a millenimum and a half ago, marrying nine-year-old kids was all right, in some cultures. Try and do it now.
Way I see it, life is a great democracy. People choose their own truths, and from that mosaic of votes - black and white pixels - a picture will appear. What it depicts depends on the individual.
So when people try to impose their bullshit on me, as I sometimes do on them, I just don't give a shit.
I am only one man. My vote is one pixel. On whatever part of the graph, forming a picture. I do not hold the keys to the truth of the universe.
Whether I think something is right or wrong does not make it so. Whatever you think as right or wrong, does not make it so either. Therefore, people who go for the moral high ground are just building an imaginary foundation. Is there a need for foundation?
Is there a need for resistance?
I have not learned enough to be perfect, and I continue to make mistakes. SMall ones, big ones. Only the foolish believes he or she knows everything. For that delusion inhibits growth.
It is hard to fill a cup that is already full. - Neytiri's Mom, Avatar.
My own mother, knows emotion. She could see emotion as well as any doctor can identify body parts during a surgery. She is the ultimate tempestuous knot of feelings as my father is the objective, machine-like intellect.
Me? I go for information. My thing is information flow. It's like the human circulatory system.
That being said, it would be foolish to close one's self to other things as well.
When people ask me why I do so many things at once, I tell them that I do not. I do one thing at a time.
30 years. It's been 30 years. I have no wisdom for you. All I learned can be summed up in perhaps two things:
1. There is no center of the universe. And if there is one, you are not it.
2. Be happy. Happiness is a decision, not a condition.
A lot of people delude themselves that pain and suffering means entitlement. We live in a society where in some parts, to some people, being in pain means that you are better than everyone else. When other people do not recognise that, do not sympathise, they feel neglected and wronged, creating even more pain.
The ultimate pain is death. If you crave pain so much, why don't you die?
Been there, done that. I am not impressed with pain. I kicked my addiction to pain years ago. In search of enlightenement, I prowled the back streets of Bangkok and the open paths of Phuket.
I found my answer. What's yours?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
31
It is approximately 31 hours after I woke up on Tuesday.
The following takes place between 8.53pm and 8.54pm.
Me: Benadryl! Triple dose! GO!
Glug glug glug.
And-
The following takes place between 8.53pm and 8.54pm.
Me: Benadryl! Triple dose! GO!
Glug glug glug.
And-
Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls: Dr Hate
I can't sleep. Benadryl no longer has any hold over me. I have a morning assignment tomorrow, so I am stuck with two choices:
1. Take whatever sleep I can get and risk waking up at noon.
2. STay awake until the time comes to go for the thing.
Some of my friends' marriages are not working out. They now look at me like I'm some sort of wise man.
I am not wise. Far from it. I'm just a wise guy.
You can see the tell-tale signs of a relationship doomed to either end in one year, or would last forever - and even then, not in a good way.
One is a lack of passion. Most relationships people are trapped in have no real passion in it. By passion, I do not mean tango under the moonlight by the bay, kissing and groping each other all the time, or even having good conversations with each other.
Those are all forms. Many people just get stuck in forms. Erecting a facade of something - a sham of a marriage, a lethargic relationship or even relationships with fake people.
When you are in a thing with fake people, everything becomes false. Practiced. Rehearsed. Planned. Pretend. No passion. No truth. No honesty. Just... bullshit.
You happily play along. For a while. And then he beats you up. She beats you up. She sleeps with other men. Both of you are left unhappier than when you first started.
How many people come up to me, giddy with the news that they have found someone. My reaction is usually this - "Meh."
And then they get angry, saying I was judging them. How dare I blahblahblahblahblahblah. Blahblahblah. Blah. I don't give a shit.
A year later, after several bruises, broken bones, broken hearts, failed marriages, a few lawsuits, quite a number of screaming matches, some fucked-up kids, depleted bank accounts, et cetera, they come to me and tell me I was right.
Thing is, I don't want to be right. Not in this, at the very least. This is why I stopped dispensing relationship advice years ago. Not my fucking business, man. It's YOUR fucking business. When the business fails - IF it does - YOU handle it, not me.
Nowadays, I just take the opportunity to laugh at people. Because it is all just one big cosmic joke. At their expense. Not mine.
I have seen and heard it all. No I didn't. And I am glad I did not. Muahahaha.
You fuck someone cause he has money, even though that very financial stability makes him unstable. I give it a year or forever.
Cause guys with money, it's like, "I paid for your pussy already, bitch. What the fuck else do you want from me? Now give me MAH PUSSY!"
I was in Thailand and I got some money. I know what that's like for a lot of guys who had more money than I did. Some develop feelings of entitlement.
You fuck a girl, and all she ever wanted was money - stability. And you expect her to be more than a hooker and a maid? Aside from a fancy decoration when you go out, those girls are empty. Bottomless pits. Yeah, go on. Stick your dick inside them. See what kind of monsters come out.
I used to ask people, "Why do you want to be in this relationship?"
Not a single person ever told me, "Cause I love him/her." Or "I like being with him/her." Or "I enjoy his/her company."
It's always, "I'm getting OLD!" "My pussy is dry!" "I need the money!" "I need to show off how successful my pussy is cause it attracted a rich dick." "I get lonely with no pussy at night." "I am following an ancient stupid fertility rite by the Babylonian fertility Goddess Astarte" Nyeeeeeeeeeeee.
Two of those couples whom I polled, are now going through messy divorces. Both have kids.
Well? Not MY kids. Muahahahahaha!
Tell-tale signs: when either one of you so desperately advertises(without being asked) how happy you are in your relationship, it means you're not happy. Real happy people need nothing. Want nothing. Not even the desire to tell other people how happy they are. For happiness is the absence of desire.
If it's any consolation, and if you're one of those people who compare yourself to others on a constant basis and simply CANNOT LOSE, I have seen only two or three relationships that work. Out of thousands. SO there is a chance. A possibility. That's why I am now playing 4D. Leaves less of a mess, and if it works out, I'll be a fucking millionaire.
1. Take whatever sleep I can get and risk waking up at noon.
2. STay awake until the time comes to go for the thing.
Some of my friends' marriages are not working out. They now look at me like I'm some sort of wise man.
I am not wise. Far from it. I'm just a wise guy.
You can see the tell-tale signs of a relationship doomed to either end in one year, or would last forever - and even then, not in a good way.
One is a lack of passion. Most relationships people are trapped in have no real passion in it. By passion, I do not mean tango under the moonlight by the bay, kissing and groping each other all the time, or even having good conversations with each other.
Those are all forms. Many people just get stuck in forms. Erecting a facade of something - a sham of a marriage, a lethargic relationship or even relationships with fake people.
When you are in a thing with fake people, everything becomes false. Practiced. Rehearsed. Planned. Pretend. No passion. No truth. No honesty. Just... bullshit.
You happily play along. For a while. And then he beats you up. She beats you up. She sleeps with other men. Both of you are left unhappier than when you first started.
How many people come up to me, giddy with the news that they have found someone. My reaction is usually this - "Meh."
And then they get angry, saying I was judging them. How dare I blahblahblahblahblahblah. Blahblahblah. Blah. I don't give a shit.
A year later, after several bruises, broken bones, broken hearts, failed marriages, a few lawsuits, quite a number of screaming matches, some fucked-up kids, depleted bank accounts, et cetera, they come to me and tell me I was right.
Thing is, I don't want to be right. Not in this, at the very least. This is why I stopped dispensing relationship advice years ago. Not my fucking business, man. It's YOUR fucking business. When the business fails - IF it does - YOU handle it, not me.
Nowadays, I just take the opportunity to laugh at people. Because it is all just one big cosmic joke. At their expense. Not mine.
I have seen and heard it all. No I didn't. And I am glad I did not. Muahahaha.
You fuck someone cause he has money, even though that very financial stability makes him unstable. I give it a year or forever.
Cause guys with money, it's like, "I paid for your pussy already, bitch. What the fuck else do you want from me? Now give me MAH PUSSY!"
I was in Thailand and I got some money. I know what that's like for a lot of guys who had more money than I did. Some develop feelings of entitlement.
You fuck a girl, and all she ever wanted was money - stability. And you expect her to be more than a hooker and a maid? Aside from a fancy decoration when you go out, those girls are empty. Bottomless pits. Yeah, go on. Stick your dick inside them. See what kind of monsters come out.
I used to ask people, "Why do you want to be in this relationship?"
Not a single person ever told me, "Cause I love him/her." Or "I like being with him/her." Or "I enjoy his/her company."
It's always, "I'm getting OLD!" "My pussy is dry!" "I need the money!" "I need to show off how successful my pussy is cause it attracted a rich dick." "I get lonely with no pussy at night." "I am following an ancient stupid fertility rite by the Babylonian fertility Goddess Astarte" Nyeeeeeeeeeeee.
Two of those couples whom I polled, are now going through messy divorces. Both have kids.
Well? Not MY kids. Muahahahahaha!
Tell-tale signs: when either one of you so desperately advertises(without being asked) how happy you are in your relationship, it means you're not happy. Real happy people need nothing. Want nothing. Not even the desire to tell other people how happy they are. For happiness is the absence of desire.
If it's any consolation, and if you're one of those people who compare yourself to others on a constant basis and simply CANNOT LOSE, I have seen only two or three relationships that work. Out of thousands. SO there is a chance. A possibility. That's why I am now playing 4D. Leaves less of a mess, and if it works out, I'll be a fucking millionaire.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Tales from the Drunk Side: Desire Lives in the Heart
When I was younger, I was working on a concept. If it were to manifest in A4 papers hanging from the ceilings, it would be, "There is no hunger. There is no food. There is no desire."
See, desire, is a dangerous thing. It's like alcohol. It may be fun for some people to imbibe on it. Or even overdose on it. Sometimes. But like Wong Kei Yin, father of Wong Fei Hung said, in the movie Drunken Master 2 starring Jackie Chan, "Water that floats a ship can also sink it."
He was talking about alcohol, but it also refers to desire.
Most of the problems in my life were caused by my own desire. Poisonous, the seed of ruin. Meanwhile, things done without desire, come out better than expected. Don't mistake goals for desire.
To me, goals are merely targets, without emotion. Without feeling. When emotion is involved, then it becomes desire. When you project your self-worth on something and failure to achieve it means a failure of self. Success, means a bloated self. A bloated ego.
How many times can you count on jumping, without falling? A hundred times? A thousand? Ten thousand? A million?
Given a long enough timeline, everyone will fail. Everyone will fall. Everyone will die.
So there is no worry. There is no hunger. There is only what is inf ront of you right now, which in my case is Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden.
See you in, say, 23 hours.
See, desire, is a dangerous thing. It's like alcohol. It may be fun for some people to imbibe on it. Or even overdose on it. Sometimes. But like Wong Kei Yin, father of Wong Fei Hung said, in the movie Drunken Master 2 starring Jackie Chan, "Water that floats a ship can also sink it."
He was talking about alcohol, but it also refers to desire.
Most of the problems in my life were caused by my own desire. Poisonous, the seed of ruin. Meanwhile, things done without desire, come out better than expected. Don't mistake goals for desire.
To me, goals are merely targets, without emotion. Without feeling. When emotion is involved, then it becomes desire. When you project your self-worth on something and failure to achieve it means a failure of self. Success, means a bloated self. A bloated ego.
How many times can you count on jumping, without falling? A hundred times? A thousand? Ten thousand? A million?
Given a long enough timeline, everyone will fail. Everyone will fall. Everyone will die.
So there is no worry. There is no hunger. There is only what is inf ront of you right now, which in my case is Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden.
See you in, say, 23 hours.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Insomniac
I was very close to nodding off, when I got a phone call from a friend.
Gossips, gossips, gossips! Just hung up.
Now, sleep attempt number three.
Gossips, gossips, gossips! Just hung up.
Now, sleep attempt number three.
Death and Rebirth
All you fuckers watch out now. I got my life, my love back.
I have successfully revived a game I have been playing for the past 11 years. Or something like that.
It is the resurrection of Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden. It's better than sex.
Basically, you control hundreds of robots from dozens of mecha anime shows from the 70s to the 21st Century, on a chess-board-like setup.
Every character who pilots the robots have different skills and 'magic' which they can use by spending limited SP points.
Each robot is different in characteristics, weapons, etc.
So this makes it a role-playing strategy game.
Everything is in Japanese, so some knowledge of the language is a pre-requisite. That, or if you can read Chinese, you can pretty much figure out things for yourself.
Using this game, I have improved my kanji by threefold. I know and recognise the kanjis for blood, concentrate, custom, etc. 'Hirameki' means flash. Blablabla.
I also got my friend to look at my PC. Seems nothing is wrong, save for the power supply. Much, much preferrable to buying a new PC.
I have successfully revived a game I have been playing for the past 11 years. Or something like that.
It is the resurrection of Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden. It's better than sex.
Basically, you control hundreds of robots from dozens of mecha anime shows from the 70s to the 21st Century, on a chess-board-like setup.
Every character who pilots the robots have different skills and 'magic' which they can use by spending limited SP points.
Each robot is different in characteristics, weapons, etc.
So this makes it a role-playing strategy game.
Everything is in Japanese, so some knowledge of the language is a pre-requisite. That, or if you can read Chinese, you can pretty much figure out things for yourself.
Using this game, I have improved my kanji by threefold. I know and recognise the kanjis for blood, concentrate, custom, etc. 'Hirameki' means flash. Blablabla.
I also got my friend to look at my PC. Seems nothing is wrong, save for the power supply. Much, much preferrable to buying a new PC.
Mari Belajar Mencarut Dalam Bahasa Jepun
Semasa menonton filem,drama atau kartun Jepun, aku selalu perasan yang bila dia menjerit kat orang macam mencarut, translation pada subtitle cumalah "Awak!"
Omae = awak
Teme = awak
Kisama = awak jugak.
Lepas tu, barulah aku paham yang Jepun ada level sopan, tak sopan dan kurang hajar bila nak panggil orang.
Paling kurang hajar adalah menggunakan perkataan 'kisama'.
Kisama maksud dia Encik Pokok, atau Tuan Pokok.
Secara asasnya, orang Jepun tu tengah gelar orang lain sebagai:
Encik Pokok: Dibenci oleh orang Jepun
Jadi, kalau jumpa orang Jepun, panggillah dia 'Kisama!'. Mesti dia suka.
Omae = awak
Teme = awak
Kisama = awak jugak.
Lepas tu, barulah aku paham yang Jepun ada level sopan, tak sopan dan kurang hajar bila nak panggil orang.
Paling kurang hajar adalah menggunakan perkataan 'kisama'.
Kisama maksud dia Encik Pokok, atau Tuan Pokok.
Secara asasnya, orang Jepun tu tengah gelar orang lain sebagai:
Encik Pokok: Dibenci oleh orang Jepun
Jadi, kalau jumpa orang Jepun, panggillah dia 'Kisama!'. Mesti dia suka.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Iran Man Too
With Iron Man 2 poised to make at least US$700 million at the box office, Iran has come up with their own superhero movie: Iran Man. Starring rogue statesman Ahmadinejad.
Took me all of 10 minutes to do this. And your 12 year old child should be able to do better, or abort them. Now.
Took me all of 10 minutes to do this. And your 12 year old child should be able to do better, or abort them. Now.
Urut Kepala
Lepas aku interview orang tadi, aku pergi la ke rumah urut.
Urut punya urut, sampai la ke 15 minit terakhir.
"Bang, nak urut apa lagi?"
"Urut kepala la."
Dia terus selak tuala.
"Woi! Woi! Bukan kepala tu la. Kepala betul, bukan kepala bana."
Dia sengih-sengih, macam kelapa kena tebuk T-Rex. Muka buruk macam tu pun ada hati nak lancapkan aku ke?
AKu memang suka kena urut kepala. Kepala betul, ya. Dalam kepala aku ni, ada macam-macam senario main, macam dalam pilem. Kalau gini, gitu. Kalau gitu, gini. Jadi, kalau kena urut, memang best.
Aku menyampah tukang urut ni, bila aku pilih yang tak lawa langsung.
Aku biasa pilih yang muka macam kerbau kena penyek dinosaur, pasal logik aku adalah: Kalau kau tukang urut, pastu hodoh macam kambing, mestilah ko terer mengurut, kan? Pasal rupa takde, skill patut ada lah.
Contoh: Peter Crouch.
Peter Crouch: Pemain bolasepak paling hodoh dalam sejarah.
Tapi, Peter Crouch, skill pun tarak.
Anyway, ada sekali tu, aku pergi rumah urut. AKu pilih yang rupa paling Peter Crouch sekali.
Ingat power la.
Laaaa. Dia tak urut pun. Dia main sapu minyak kat bontot je. Pastu tanya, nak lancap tak? Pukimak betul.
Terpaksa la aku cari rumah urut berdekatan yang ada kasi rub down pakai tuala basah. Kalau tak, berlengas la aku, dengan minyak celah kangkang.
Urut punya urut, sampai la ke 15 minit terakhir.
"Bang, nak urut apa lagi?"
"Urut kepala la."
Dia terus selak tuala.
"Woi! Woi! Bukan kepala tu la. Kepala betul, bukan kepala bana."
Dia sengih-sengih, macam kelapa kena tebuk T-Rex. Muka buruk macam tu pun ada hati nak lancapkan aku ke?
AKu memang suka kena urut kepala. Kepala betul, ya. Dalam kepala aku ni, ada macam-macam senario main, macam dalam pilem. Kalau gini, gitu. Kalau gitu, gini. Jadi, kalau kena urut, memang best.
Aku menyampah tukang urut ni, bila aku pilih yang tak lawa langsung.
Aku biasa pilih yang muka macam kerbau kena penyek dinosaur, pasal logik aku adalah: Kalau kau tukang urut, pastu hodoh macam kambing, mestilah ko terer mengurut, kan? Pasal rupa takde, skill patut ada lah.
Contoh: Peter Crouch.
Peter Crouch: Pemain bolasepak paling hodoh dalam sejarah.
Tapi, Peter Crouch, skill pun tarak.
Anyway, ada sekali tu, aku pergi rumah urut. AKu pilih yang rupa paling Peter Crouch sekali.
Ingat power la.
Laaaa. Dia tak urut pun. Dia main sapu minyak kat bontot je. Pastu tanya, nak lancap tak? Pukimak betul.
Terpaksa la aku cari rumah urut berdekatan yang ada kasi rub down pakai tuala basah. Kalau tak, berlengas la aku, dengan minyak celah kangkang.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The Truth, The Light, The Way
I was rather lugubrious last night, so while waiting for my cab to get there, I struck up a conversation with a few people over Blackberry Messenger. Product placement, yo!
I was like, "I am rather lugubrious at the moment. Ask me anything, and I shall tell you the truth."
So I solved some of the world's greatest mysteries, and then one girl asked me, "DO you admit that you are egotistical?"
Me: Really? How so?
Girl: In the sense that you always think you're right about everything.
This is a friend, so I did not tell her the obvious answer:
I don't think I'm right about everything. It's just that I AM right about everything.
What can I do? I'm like a divining rod with a dick attached.
How many times have I wished that I was wrong, but my instincts have never, EVER failed me. When I fail to listen to my instincts, that's when I get into trouble.
If I feel funny about something, then there's something wrong with it. If I feel funny about people, then the truth is much, much more terrible than even I could conceive.
It got to a point where I decided to just shrug my shoulders, do whatever I want, heed the warnings from my 'pimp senses' and just live a happy life.
It's not that I want to be right. Or for other people to tell me that I am right. I know I am right. And I am right. I don't need to argue with people, because I am in line with the truth.
In fact, I think I am the truth, the light, the way of the magic. Not lipstick liberals. Not PKR or UMNO or DAP or whatever the fuck.
You'd think this is a gift, but having an innate sense of what is right and wrong is a burden. I can't realistically convince myself that humans are good creatures when they are not.
I just sit with SOME people who delude themselves with the lies of family, marriage, children, religion, politics and society, and my presence breaks through their lies. Their charade.
I sit with fake people, with liars, and they get uneasy.
If I am ever in parliament, they will throw me out without me ever opening my mouth.
Then again, real people enjoy my company. And I would much rather spend my time with them, than the fake ones.
I was like, "I am rather lugubrious at the moment. Ask me anything, and I shall tell you the truth."
So I solved some of the world's greatest mysteries, and then one girl asked me, "DO you admit that you are egotistical?"
Me: Really? How so?
Girl: In the sense that you always think you're right about everything.
This is a friend, so I did not tell her the obvious answer:
I don't think I'm right about everything. It's just that I AM right about everything.
What can I do? I'm like a divining rod with a dick attached.
How many times have I wished that I was wrong, but my instincts have never, EVER failed me. When I fail to listen to my instincts, that's when I get into trouble.
If I feel funny about something, then there's something wrong with it. If I feel funny about people, then the truth is much, much more terrible than even I could conceive.
It got to a point where I decided to just shrug my shoulders, do whatever I want, heed the warnings from my 'pimp senses' and just live a happy life.
It's not that I want to be right. Or for other people to tell me that I am right. I know I am right. And I am right. I don't need to argue with people, because I am in line with the truth.
In fact, I think I am the truth, the light, the way of the magic. Not lipstick liberals. Not PKR or UMNO or DAP or whatever the fuck.
You'd think this is a gift, but having an innate sense of what is right and wrong is a burden. I can't realistically convince myself that humans are good creatures when they are not.
I just sit with SOME people who delude themselves with the lies of family, marriage, children, religion, politics and society, and my presence breaks through their lies. Their charade.
I sit with fake people, with liars, and they get uneasy.
If I am ever in parliament, they will throw me out without me ever opening my mouth.
Then again, real people enjoy my company. And I would much rather spend my time with them, than the fake ones.
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