Monday, February 28, 2011


I have with me now, old newsreels, around three hours of a recorded interview I did, old documents, new documents, pictures and around 100GB of various footages.

I need to finish this script by tonight. Means I will finish at least half before 5pm, when I am scheduled to go out.

And this is WITHOUT a day job. I have chosen wisely.

Kisah Leftenan Jurutulis yang Terlampau: Langkawi

Aku pergi buat research kat Langkawi. Baru balik ni. Penat pun tak abis lagi. Baru je sampai rumah dalam 10 minit.

Aku blah KL Jumaat malam Sabtu. Ingat nak naik keretapi, tapi keretapi sudah penuh. Tanya kat minah kaunter maklumat kat KL Sentral. Ada bas ke Alor Setar, tapi kat Hentian Duta.


Hentian Duta. Ambik bas pukul 11.30. Bertolak pukul 12 tengah malam. Sampai di Alor Setar pukul 6 lebih.

Breakfast roti je beb, member aku hentam Maggi, kat luar jeti Kuala Kedah sambil tunggu feri pertama jalan pukul 7.15 pagi.

Sampai kat Langkawi pukul 9 pagi. Terus sewa kereta, start buat kerja. Tak tidur lagi ni.

Boom bang, bumbang, kongkang, sampai pukul 6.30 petang. Baru cari bilik. Letak je beg, aku terus cari massage.

Pilih punya pilih, aku masuk la satu rumah urut ni. Tengah ready je nak kena massage, masuk la tukang urut. Jantan siut! Haram jadah betul. Aku nak kensel, dia hantar orang lain. Perempuan la.

Balik ke bilik pukul 7 lebih. Bangun pukul 8 malam. Aku ronda satu Langkawi, dibawak dek seorang Beach Boy. Memang gila babi la dia cerita, pumpang, pumpang.

"Ini hospital ni, kalau dia bangkit, gabung dengan jeti tu, jadi Ultraman."

Aku: Oooo.

Beach Boy: Ko ni, Bond ka?

Aku: Barry Bonds?

BB: Tak. James Bond la. Piew! Piew!

Aku: Ooo. Takdak aih. Aku orang biasa ja.

Aku keluar pukul 8 malam tadi, aku balik pukul 3 pagi baru sampai bilik.

Tidur, bangun pukul 8.30 pagi. Check out, keluar ronda satu kali lagi.

Balik ke jeti pukul 4 petang, ambik feri pukul 4.30, sampai ke Kuala Kedah pukul 6.

Naik keretapi pukul 7.45 malam. Gila best, keretapi ada katil. Syok tidur kat dalam tu. Sampai di KL pukul 5.30 pagi.

Lepak-lepak kejap, balik.

Sampai kat apartment aku ni, aku kena tulis dan habiskan something, hantar pukul 12, kalau boleh.

Gila betul kehidupan aku ni.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa Documentary

This Friday, Feb 25, at 6pm, on TV3, there will be broadcast a documentary on Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa.

Half serious documentary, half the making of the upcoming movie (to be released March 10), it is a good basic overview of the myth.

I was also interviewed, as the scriptwriter, where I talk about the possibility of the legend being real. Of course, the historians are all more knowledgable in this matter, and they weigh in as well.

I personally believe the subject to be very interesting, academically. With all the richness of the saga, and the material at hand, I believe even a series of serious documentaries is possible.

For example, did you know that according to the hikayat, as collected by RJ Wilkinson, Merong Mahawangsa was Roman?

In my research, I found many theories, including Merong is Indian on the account of his name being Sanskrit, that he was Thai, because his name is Thai Sanskrit. That he was Chinese (real name Ma Her Wing Sher). That he was Pattani. That he was Goan. Greek. Srivijayan. From a lost kingdom left by Alexander the Great near India.

The saga itself stretches a thousand years. From the opening of Langkasuka in the second century (according to some Chinese records) to the time of the alleged first Muslim Sultan of Kedah (Sultan Muzaffar Shah/Sultan Mulzalfal Shah) in the 1100s.

This is at odds with the discovery of Batu Bersurat Terengganu that puts the coming of Islam in 1313.

The characters number in the hundreds. This includes Raja Bersiong, the blood drinker, as well as Phra Ong Mahawangsa who later embraced Islam.

The documentary/making of to be broadcast this Friday will give some basic information on the matter as well as reveal some more footages of the movie.

Catch the show, and watch the movie. It will be released on March 10 in Malaysia, and is available in 72 countries worldwide.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Village People: The Hart Foundation

I had four meetings today. Feel like I wanna pass out.

The good thing is, I managed to get a possible foundation to house the project under. This is cool, if it happens.


Twit This!

I'm watching Amazing Stories, and suddenly I have an idea.

Soapbox: Journey to the Rest

They say that a journey ends when you come back to the same spot you started, with new eyes with which to view your surroundings. Perhaps yourself.

This past year, I started off at a very clear point in my life. I ironed out all the uncertainties - knew exactly where I was and where I'm going, and had just finished my bit of soul searching.

Now, I have decided to leave all that behind. The comfort and solace I felt was no longer comfortable and things were becoming quite chaotic.

Coming full circle, I am reacquainted with the great philosophers whose words I listened to but did not fully understand, a year ago.

It's easy to be Captain Hindsight, but here it is. Here I am.

All my life, I have had women come up to me with their tales of betrayal. Either they betrayed other people, or more usually, tales of how they were betrayed. I thought I was doing them a favour by listening to them. Little did I suspect that those stories were probably meant for me.

I beat depression in 2003, 2006 and 2008. I thought I had it covered. But then, recently, I was in its thrall yet again. Every time, it feels like the worst time it happened, but the Truth is, I don't know.

I know for a fact that any type of negativity comes from identifying with an image or a role that is created by the delusional self. I used to know it, now I have gone through it.

The mind is the great deceiver. It tells us that we are defined by our cars, our clothes, the books we read, blah blah blah. It doesn't. Those things only define our selves to other people and if your God is Other People, then I guess it is true for you.

What I believe in is that we are not all of that at all. That at the very essence, at a basic fundamental level, we are so much more than our possessions and our actions that we have accumulated around us.

In essence, I believe in the soul. The spirit. And I believe that we are all connected.

The Absolute Terror fields, made up of things - of matter, thoughts and dreams - are simply there as an imperfect shell.

We are never who we THINK we are or the little stories we tell ourselves about us. To believe in those images - those illusions - is delusional. It is a mental illness, much like believing in black magic, African money, pyramid schemes or an invisible pink unicorn.

I have had much to ponder these past few months, and I have come to the realisation that the more you think of something, the less value it has. Try it.

It only bogs you down.

Tired of pretending and focusing on things that do not matter, I started a series of actions that has led me here, where I was two years ago, but with perhaps a clearer understanding of myself and the universe. And how they are both one and the same.

Spirit: Stallion of the Silmarillion

I used to have a problem with people - even my close family members - treating the Koran or any Holy Book as a Book of Magic.

A lot of people see spirituality as some sort of magic act. Some sort of sorcery. You recite this verse here, and you cast lightning bolts or shoot lasers. Or magically conjure gold coins from thin air.

Used to. I found it delusional, and the ultimate kind of lying - the one you do to yourself.

I have always seen black magic as a form of mental illness, and I continue to do so to this day. This is why, I believe that in Islam, it is a great sin to practice any kind of magic or sorcery.

However, my derision has at times consumed me. Does it matter what other people believe in? What I believe in? Do I give a fuck?

I find it annoying, but to spend any time dwelling on it is dumb. It is much more productive for me to focus on my own shit.

I still believe that whatever you believe in, is right for you. No matter how dumb or stupid it seems to other people. You can believe politicians. Or you can believe me. Doesn't make you any smarter.

Hell, fuck should I care?

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The Malay Male's Political Roundup

I work in the entertainment industry, so when I want to entertain myself, I read political websites.

They no longer sicken me. They amuse me.

If you read them, you will notice that it was as if all these sites are written by the same person.

The spiteful personal attacks are all employed by both sides, which is just one side, really.

This is not a battle between BN and PR. It is a battle between the rich and how long they can make fools of the poor.

BN and PR are on one side - the TAKERS. And the people are on another side - the IDIOTS.

And then we have the so-called 'third option', which are foolish takers, because not only are they takers, they are doing a bang up job at it as well.

So who is right? Who is wrong? I don't care. I am here, to be entertained.

Pro-Government or anti-opposition sites are running rampant with what I see as personal attacks on Anwar Ibrahim. And Anwar can't say much, cause when he had the stand, with (at the time) 25 million Malaysians hanging on to his every word, I believe he lied ("I have boxes of evidence against the Government!") and he did personal attacks as well ("Whose wife is bald???!!!")

There is a storm brewing in the horizon. Some players are pushing for a race riot. In fact, I think there has always been a push for race violence, all the time. For some do understand that with chaos, comes opportunity.

I believe that the Tunisian, Egyptian and whatever movements are occuring right now, is not accidental. I don't believe it's the Jews, but after the dust has settled, whoever has the money is or was guilty of something.

Our mission, is not to be fooled, as even the best of us are manipulated or used sometimes. Our goal, is to keep ourselves safe from descending to the level of animals, or worse - politicians.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

If I Had Superman's Powers

First thing I'm gonna do is destroy the diamond trade.

I'll create diamond from coal. Fuck you, De Beers! This will render the Jewish diamond trade extinct.

Then, I'm going to fly to every country in the world, using my X-Ray vision to look at boobies.

I will wreak havoc on immigration laws as I go where I want.

Then I will kill, say, a billion people, and threaten the world with more killings unless I am made Emperor Supreme.

As Emperor Supreme, I will dictate that humans are banned from using fossil fuels. We will ALL have to rely on green energy. Petroleum will only be used for raw materials.

I will finally ban any and ALL fax machines. Fuck fax machines!

I will have a million concubines, mostly Thai.

I will make movies and anyone who does not go and watch them, will be killed.

The rich will have to take care of the poor, under threat of rape from mutant dogs.

Newspapers will exist as online only. People will be forced to read and record a certain number of books a year. Say, 50. Failure to do so will result in heavy fines.

Stupid people will be castrated.

The world will be ruled by me, with advice from scientists.

All business majors will be put to death. Goldman Sachs will be turned into a maximum security prison.

The Gaza Strip will be destroyed and the soil irradiated. Both Israelis and Palestinians will be spread all around the world, in communities of 50 or less.

I will bring back knight-errants and samurais as legalised, state-sponsored professions.

Children will all undergo IQ tests by 12. Those who fail, will be forced to eat their parents.

ANyone who voices out disagreements with Freedom of Speech will have their tongues pulled out. Slowly. Muahahahaha!

There will be no NGOs.

The practice of black magic, wicca, astrology and feng shui will be offences punihsable by death. Every year, I would personally execute practitioners of any form of magic that is not an illusion or trick.

Pyramid schemes as well as MLMs will be banned forever.

All conmen will be killed.

Comics would be required reading at all levels. Nudity is legal. So is prostitution.

I am such a benevolent Sovereign.

The Cigarette Smoking Man

This is my last week as an editor at a newspaper. I spent yesterday passed out on my bed.

Last year, today, though, was a totally different story.

I would come to the office at 12 noon, when the Prime Minister would call me up.

PM: Hey, Amir.

Me: What do you want?

PM: Um, please don't run the story about the Malaysian Government killing 200 million non-Malays last week.

Me: Sure. Anything else?

PM: Yeah, can you touch up my picture so I would like this:

Me: Sure. You're considering him for the movie?

PM: Yeah, him or Johnny.

Me: Johnny will make you look either gay or bisexual.

PM: But Kevin Spacey IS... um... what is he?

Me: A space cadet? No, that was the other guy. Actually, I'm not sure, sir. But I'll edit your picture so you could look like him. And the ethnic cleansing? Yeah, I'll keep it under wraps.

After a long, drawn out lunch, I go for a meeting with a secret cabal of people who run the country.

Emperor of Sg Besi: The people are getting violent. We will release weed to counter this problem.

Marquis de Bukit Bintang: I will start discounts on all brothels and bordellos.

Me: Wait, what's the difference between brothels and bordellos?

MBB: Bordellos are more baroque. Tasteless decor and syphillis is untreatable.

Me: Ah.

PM: Anything you want to add, Amir?

Me: Yes. Can we kill more politicians? They are so fucking stupid! Yesterday, one of the opposition guys repeated that 'all pretty girls should stay home and suck dicks'.

Opposition Monarch: You have a problem with that?

Me: Well, not with the pretty girls sucking dicks part, but can't your guys be more subtle? And how can you fuck up in Penang and Selangor? We want to engineer a protest in 2012, and we all need you guys to carry the ball and pretend as if you're fighting for the people. You can't do that with all this stupid dinosaur thinking and crazy statements. Hell, you guys must win, dammit!

OM: Em. Well, we were born that way, Amir. We are that goddamn stupid and racist and chauvinistic.

Me: Ah, point taken. Nevermind then. How goes the vote-rigging and ghost voters?

PM: We have trapped 300 million gosts in our ecto-containment units, ready to be deployed.

Me: When the next election comes up, I want to be able to win Malaysia as well as large parts of Indonesia with all the ghosts we have.

OM: What about Singapore?

Me: Singapore only has ONE political party. What kind of election do they do? It would be strange if PAP were to compete as the sole party, and lose.

OM: Ah, yes.

Me: My Science, you are so stupid, if we are transported 65 million years ago, the dinosaurs would be digging up your fossils.

After tea, I would go and assassinate civil rights leaders.

Then it was dinner time, where I eat sushi off naked women's bodies.

So you see, I just got bored after a while and need to be a freelancer again.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Creative Consultant

Lots of people seek my advice when doing creative projects - movies, TV series, etc which revolves around fiction. I usually dispense them for free, which is fine.

However, I am thinking of providing the service for a fee.

I'll be a creative consultant or some shit. I can put you through to writers, design artists, producers, directors, etc as well - whatever you need for your creative project.

That sounds rather nice.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Signs that Your Company is Going Under

As the world's greatest business guru, I hereby list down signs that your company is either going to be sold, or close down for good.

1. Cyanide

The company starts buying life insurance for you, and then spikes the water cooler with cyanide.

How to detect this? Well, smell the water. Cyanide has no smell. If you do not smell anything funny, your water has been poisoned.

2. High Levels of Bullshit Jargon

Count the times your top management uses the words 'synergy', 'synergistic', 'strategic partnerships', 'social graph', and 'value-added'.

If those words make up of more than 50% of his speech, RUN!

Here's a translation of business jargon:

a. synergy/synergistic - we will get other departments to do the work cause we know jack shit about what we're doing.

b. strategic partnerships - we will get other companies to do something and then claim all the credit because our product is worthless.

c. social graph - I failed at everything in life, except popularity contests.

d. value-added - we are conmen and we want to con people

3. Corporate training

When all else fails, people usually turn to black magic, religion or gambling. Corporate training is all three combined.

If they hired people who need even more formal training (without say, change in systems, law, or expansion), then you know that either they think you're all idiots, or you are all idiots.


Clear Your Calendar!

A documentary on Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa will be broadcast on TV3, Feb 25 at 6pm. Among the speakers include Malaysia's foremost historian Prof Khoo Khay Kim. And then there's me.

Congratulations to KRU, Azeez and Astra for pulling this off. Cheers!


Hello. My name is Amir. I used to suffer from depression, until I decided to beat my depression with my neighbour's artificial leg.

Yes. I beat depression. So can you. If you can't, well maybe you should consider suicide.

Tired of the same-old, same-old? Change your surroundings, bitch! Move to a new country. Move house. Get a new apartment. Get a hobby. I quit my job, and started projects. Got a new lease on life and shit.

You can too. The only other option is to die as an emo kid. C'mon. Death isn't so bad. You're going to heaven, with lots of virgins, 25 US dollars and bragging rights.

Nothing lasts forever, foo! Good times, bad times, people, animals, plants. Nothing lasts. So take that jump off the apartment building today, or set yourself on fire. No one gives a shit anyway.

Please die. Please.

The Mallot Mullet

As the world's greatest political analyst, I must say that Mallot dude, saying bad things about Malaysia in his column - and getting a lot of reaction in return from Utusan and NST - is both right and wrong.

First of all, there is some racist tension in Malaysia. No denying that. But worse than 1969? Well, I don't see anyone dead on the streets. I can still go out and fuck a hooker - of all colours of the rainbow - if I want to, safely, but I don't, cause I'm a Muslim and shit.

No, man. I just go out and pray at Merdeka Square using the Malaysian flag as a sejadah.

Hey, I still remember how to pray. First is the, umm, Takbiratul Ihram, and then, umm...anyway, Mallot dude.

Secondly, we should listen to criticism. And if we don't agree or don't like it, just give them the finger. "Fuck off and die, Mallot!" That's what we should say.

Third, why the fuck is this Mallot dude saying shit about Malaysia? Does he miss fucking our prostitutes?

"Oh, Mona Gersang, your puki bersepah is so exotic. I feel like I'm fucking a badger," said a Mallot body double.

Is it the food?

What the fuck is an American (possible) millionare doing, criticising a third world country? Did Obama bitchslap him with a gun? Banned him from critisizing his own country? SO he gotta do it about other countries?

Was he paid by ANwar to suck his dick? I dunno, man. The fact that a rich guy is talking about Malaysia, for what? Did Pos Malaysia lose your package the last time you were ambassador?

Did the Zoo Negara animals bit your ears cause they starvin' and shit? What's your beef, Mallot?

I don't buy that, "I'm a concerned citizen of the world" bullshit. The last time we heard that, we got colonised for 500 years.

Until I figure out Mallot's interest, I'm taking whatever he's saying with a bag of chikin wings.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Village People: Emergency Response

I got a response from my contact in a corporate body, asking for more details on the family and the project. I got some writing to do tonight, baby.

Tomorrow, I have a meeting with a foundation. I need to park this charity under a foundation that has tax-deductible status. Makes it easier for me to collect funds.

Actually, I've done this before, but not for the people in my village. Back in 2003, I was part of a team that raised RM20,000 for an orphanage. We got used computers from IBM, and spent the rest of the money on paint. We painted the home ourselves.

I don't believe in having special days for the poor. That's just one day. Need to get them something that lasts.

And while building houses is a good start, my eventual plan is to start sustainable industries and provide jobs for the people in my village. Train them as mechanics or start a farming project or something.

There is Government funding, but it is not being utilised properly. No corruption, as far as I know, but no takers either. If I do become a multi-millionaire, I'll retire and take care of these projects full-time.

Ko Kena Tipu Pasal Ko Bodoh

Cuba ko pikir. Kalau ilmu-ilmu hitam kat negara ni betul la, Portugis takkan dapat jejak tanah kat Malaysia ni.

Sampai je Pelabuhan Melaka, dah kena santau. Jejak kaki je, kena parang terbang.

Tembak pakai senapang, orang kebal sudah tahan. Nak tembak lagi, toyol sudah curi peluru. Clean-up pakai harimau jadian.

Apa pasal semua ini tak jadi? Dan Portugis, Belanda, Inggeris, Jepun, Komunis semua takluk ini tempat?

Pasal ilmu hitam itu adalah bullshit. Tipu semata-mata.

Apa pasal tipu?

Aku fikir, orang yang percaya dan mengamal ilmu hitam adalah mereka yang egonya sudah ranap, dan ingin rasa diri sendiri istimewa.

AKu bukan cakap pasal kejadian luarbiasa (yang aku tak percaya jugak, sebenarnya, tetapi akui yang ada banyak perkara yang belum dijelaskan oleh sains), aku cakap pasal sihir dan ilmu hitam - salah satu dosa-dosa berat ikut Islam.

Aku fikir, Islam sebagai agama yang logik, mengharamkan ilmu hitam pasal ilmu hitam bullshit. Kalau terus menerus orang Islam mengambil cakna pasal ilmu hitam, maka tak jadi kerja.

Pernah ada saudara-mara aku percayakan ilmu hitam. Kena tipu beribu ringgit. Nak tarik duit berjuta. Ko tau apa jadi? Tak jadi apa-apa. Rugi duit je, beribu, pasal bangang nak mampus.

Aku cabar mana-mana pengamal ilmu hitam untuk santau aku sampai aku kurus. Mati pun takpa, asalkan kurus.

Hakikatnya, ilmu hitam ni semua bullshit.

Tales from the Drunk Side: Destruction

Some of my friends are hurtin'. I can't be there for 'em. Not yet. And my presence makes little difference anyway.

I'm no superhero. But I can do some things. I know what I can do. I know what I can't do. I know what I shouldn't do.

Running my mouth is one thing. I do that all the time. Running other people's lives for 'em? Na-ah, man. I made that mistake once, and it blew up in my face like a clit that hasn't peed in weeks.

All I got now is this bottle in my hand. And a tippet... somewhere. Man, I'm losing consciousness.

Blurrr blurrrr blurrr.

Amir Hafizi: Revolutions

Well, I'm back home. Need to sortie out tomorrow. Got some shit to do, and I hope one of the meetings I set last week would happen.

Not for me, but for a very poor family of nine. I need some corporate support and I can't rely on anyone else to get it.

I don't know if it'll work, but I sure as hell will be doing my best. The project needs about RM30,000 for the house as well as furniture. We're building a very small house - the size of a studio apartment. It's 432 square feet. Comes down to RM59 per square foot.

I'm not doing this to go to heaven. This is just how I fucking roll. A lot of people bitch about poverty, when they have never seen it themselves. A little sticker on your website just doesn't cut it, man.

I need a club or a foundation to park the damn thing under.

If everything goes well, this will only be the first of many other projects. Houses first, then food. Then clothing, then I need to start up some industries and put some jobs there.

My neighbour makes RM400 a month, for a family of eight. And that's IF they pay him. Motherfuckers sometimes just don't.

I tell this, and the usual reaction I get is, "Why don't they sue?"

Hell, if they can afford lawyers, they won't be eating day-old shrimp cooked in a mountain of chilli powder.

Well, no use getting ahead of myself. One family at a time. One thing at a time. One day at a time.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Amir Hafizi: Reloaded

I spent the day collecting stuff for a documentary. Man, I love old newsreels. They sound so... so... propaganda, but in a good way.

I was looking at videos of people who literally gave their lives so that this country can be a nation. The stabbing that they did was not for promotion or for hatred, but for honour.

And these people, they didn't have much. My father told me that in the old days, there were only four types of biscuits.

"Now, there are hundreds, maybe thousands of them," he mused, completely amazed at how his world has changed.

My father's old skool. He bought a PC in 1996, but only used it for Freecell and Solitaire. I used it for porn. As well as gauging the funny communities that started to sprout there. shit and IRC. ICQ was half a decade away, for us Malaysians.

My father, he is constantly amazed with the hard core science I tell him.

"They're using crystals and light to create the next generation computers," I told him. And he'd just shake his head in amazement.

When I brought back my first Blackberry for the first time, and showed him that the thing can surf the net, he was worried that something so small would be extremely delicate.

However, my father never had the insecurity of being replaced. He was cocksure that no matter what, his values of hard work and stubbornness would carry him for another hundred years.

I must say, I agree. WHerever I go, whatever I do, I will apply the pride in my work - that arrogance - that has served me so well. If I can't take pride in my work anywhere, well, then it's time to go. I don't want to grow up to be one of those leeches who are of no contribution to anything.

I got maybe 10, 20 good working years left. I will not waste a single day on lazing about, doing nothing. Every day, I need to accomplish something. I need to write up a storm, and also take care of myself.

That's just how I fucking roll, motherfucker!

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Major Sins in Sunni Islam

This list (taken from Wikipedia) is a collection of deeds of varying degrees of offensiveness that have been compiled by religious scholars after Mohammed's time, according to the beliefs of their respective periods. The deeds are interpreted as implied by the canon of the Qur'an.

1. Associating anything with Allah
2. Murder
3. Practising magic
4. Not Praying
5. Not paying Zakat
6. Not fasting on a Day of Ramadan without excuse
7. Not performing Hajj, while being able to do so
8. Disrespect to parents
9. Abandoning relatives
10. Fornication and Adultery
11. Homosexual relations (sodomy), but not homosexuality as its a "state" not an act.
12. Usury (Riba)
13. Wrongfully consuming the property of an orphan
14. Lying about Allah and His Messenger
15. Running away from the battlefield
16. A leader's deceiving his people and being unjust to them
17. Pride and arrogance
18. Bearing false witness
19. Drinking Khamr (liquor)
20. Gambling
21. Slandering chaste women
22. Stealing from the spoils of war
23. Stealing
24. Highway Robbery
25. Taking false oath
26. Oppression
27. Illegal gain
28. Consuming wealth acquired unlawfully
29. Committing suicide
30. Frequent lying
31. Judging unjustly
32. Giving and Accepting bribes
33. Woman's imitating man and man's imitating woman
34. Being cuckold
35. Marrying a divorced woman in order to make her lawful for the husband
36. Not protecting oneself from urine
37. Showing-off
38. Learning knowledge of the religion for the sake of this world and concealing that knowledge
39. Bertrayal of trust
40. Recounting favours
41. Denying Allah's Decree
42. Listening (to) people's private conversations
43. Carrying tales
44. Cursing
45. Breaking contracts
46. Believing in fortune-tellers and astrologers
47. A woman's bad conduct towards her husband
48. Making statues and pictures
49. Lamenting, wailing, tearing the clothing, and doing other things of this sort when an affliction befalls
50. Treating others unjustly
51. Overbearing conduct toward the wife, the servant, the weak, and animals
52. Offending one's neighbour
53. Offending and abusing Muslims
54. Offending people and having an arrogant attitude toward them
55. Trailing one's garment in pride
56. Men's wearing silk and gold
57. A slave's running away from his master
58. Slaughtering an animal which has been dedicated to anyone other than Allah
59. To knowingly ascribe one's paternity to a father other than one's own
60. Arguing and disputing violently
61. Withholding excess water
62. Giving short weight or measure
63. Feeling secure from Allah's Plan
64. Offending Allah's righteous friends
65. Not praying in congregation but praying alone without an excuse
66. Persistently missing Friday Prayers without any excuse
67. Unsurping the rights of the heir through bequests
68. Deceiving and plotting evil
69. Spying for the enemy of the Muslims
70. Cursing or insulting any of the Companions of Allah's Messenger

(See also: First Ten Verses of Surah Al-Mu'minoon)

What I Remember of Heaven and Hell

I remember some of the stuff they taught us about the Islamic heaven and hell. I paid attention to this when my ustaz and ustazah spoke of it.

Under heaven, runs three rivers. One of milk, another of honey and a third from alcohol which does not make you drunk - which to me just doesn't make any sense, but I'm not taking it up against the management.

Now, if you have a beard, one strand of beard translates to like, 70,000 bidadari (bidadari is like angel-nymph hybrid or the Hindu Apsara or some shit) and one bidadari is said to be so beautiful, that one look at the soles of her feet would drive any man mad.

The reward for women is unclear (I was in a boys' school). All I could find was that women will serve men in heaven. Apparently, women's heaven is basically indentured service or lesbianism, as there is no such thing as 'bidadara'.

Sex is available in abundance, but instead of jism, the dick will spurt gaseous stuff. Supposedly, this makes sense as there is no need to breed anymore.

But my ustaz said that all this will be immaterial, because everyone will be in ecstasy as they see God's face - which is the greatest bliss of all.

Now, hell is more creative.

Those who were obsessed with fucking will have their dicks grow to the size of skyscrapers and they would balance it like a chingay.

Those who take what rightfully belongs to orphans will have their stomachs bloat into the size of an anthill and then all the poisonous creepy-crawlies would burst forth.

There are seas of molten lead, which some have to swim through. There are seas of boiling pus and snot.

At the bottom, the fire is black and consists of men and women being used as fuel for the fires of hell.

Every time you get injured, you grow everything back, like Wolverine.

So remember, this is what you're fighting for, when you fight or argue about religion. I don't know what the fuck it is, but there it is.

Menyebarkan Dakyah Scientology

Aku dah dua hari tak mandi. Best gila. Rasa macam penangkap ketam dalam Deadliest Catch.

Well, selamat Maulud Nabi. Merry Maulud Nabi? Happy Maulud Nabi?

Aku takleh cakap pasal Islam, nanti orang Islam yang hebat-hebat marah.

Jadi, aku akan cakap pasal... emm... Scientology.

Scientology menegaskan yang manusia sebenarnya 'dijangkiti' atau dihantui oleh semangat makhluk asing yang dibunuh oleh Xenu.


Ride the Lightning

I sent my farewell email to the folks at my company last night. Been wanting to write that email since last year.

Who-wee! I feel good after that. I still have to return for a couple of days, after I finish my leave days, to return my Blackberry and pass some final stuff, but I am free.

They say that it's not a good time to be unemployed. The economy's bad, they say. Well, they've been saying the economy's bad since God knows when. They said it in 2006, when I first quit The Malay Mail. They even said it when I first graduated and decided not to pursue any career in my major - computer science - and instead try to be a comic book writer.

I always ride the lightning, boy. Been watching 300 and Deadliest Catch, and I will show you my balls.

Those men, out on boats in the Bering Sea or long ago in ancient Greece, they never let up. Hell, my grandfather fought for Independence. My uncle killed commies.

They're all dead now, so I guess it's up to me to bear the torch.

I don't give a shit what people say or do. I don't give a shit what game is on. I'm not part of the game. I won't be used.

Cause I'm a cowboy, baby!

A Recipe for Disaster

I spoke about the plight of the poor and some of the reaction I've been getting amuses me.

It reflects what Michael Moore said in his documentary Capitalism: A Love Story.

That people - especially the middle class - tolerate draconian distribution of wealth, lies and hypocrisy in the hopes that one day they will get to sit on top and leech all the money away from everyone else.

I tell people, "There are lots of poor people in this country, broseph."

And they say, "The poor are to blame!"

I mean, sure, the poor do share a large part of the blame for being poor. First of, they were born to poor parents. Number two, they're mostly Malays. Third, they were just not backstabbing enough. Their lies were too little. They're not 'smart' enough to lie like the best of them.

Yeah, sure, but why get all defensive and shit.

I really do hope the poor would wake up and take the wealth of this country.

"Give them nothing! And take from them EVERYTHING!"

One day, when the poor can't even buy food, that's when they will kill people and burn cars and shit on your daughters.

I mean, why should the majority protect an economy that doesn't work for the them?

This is why I'm doing all I can to alleviate poverty. In my own small way. A sticker on your blog just doesn't cut it anymore.

I mean, I don't want to get raped in the ass by angry poor people. I don't know where that cock's been. I might get AIDS and shit. I don't want that. I can't afford anti-retroviral drugs in this country.

I sense rumblings on the ground. When that rumbling turn to grumblings, and then to violence, I just want to reserve the right to say, "I told you so!"

Games People Play

I see the chessboard being set up, with pieces - wittingly or unwittingly - being set up all over the place.

It's the Battle of Sekigahara. It always is.

Me? I'm not a piece, motherfucker. Not for at least USD400 million.

I refuse to be a pawn. Especially in this political battle where everyone's a villain.

I support neither one side nor the other. I believe them both to be equally evil. And even the third side? That one is also dumb.

Everyone's out for themselves. There is no honour in this battle. There is no cause. Just selfish intent.

Well, I'll be selfish as well and work for my money the old-fashioned way. Through sheer grit and integrity. At least I have that.

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Hard Goodbye

Flowers gathered in the morning

Afternoon they blossom on

Still are withered in the evening

You can be me when I am gone

All around me, darkness gathers

Fading is the sun that shone

We must speak of other matters

You can be me when I am gone

- Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones, The Sandman Comics

I Am Unicron

My voice has not returned to normal. It has become gravelly and coarse. I sound like someone from the Nolan Batman movies. Or Orson Welles with a sore throat.

I'm just worried that I will fall sick, but so far, I'm as healthy as can be. If I start heating up, if I get a temperature, I know how that got there.

Last night, I finished most of my deadlines. I also decided to hold applying for this one job until I get more information. I don't know, man. If some deals come through, I won't have to worry for a while. I'm working on them.

After handing in my resignation letter, I feel alive again. I am happy. Wasn't an easy decision, I must admit, but I must always be true to myself, or I'd be miserable.

Fuck all that shit, man.

Today, I'm gonna come up with even more shit, and hope to get a response from the other shit I've been working on. Hopefully, everything works out.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Intermission: What Dreams May Cum

I have been coughing for most of last week.

Just two days ago, someone contacted me and asked/offered me something. I aim to send him an email tonight, after allowing myself to cough out whatever it is that was making my lungs feel like it's been soaked in water, in the past two days.

Just now, after the third meeting of the day, as I was walking to the elevator (lift to all you Brits) at my apartment, I puked a puddle of phlegm. It was gooey and looked like it belonged on Nickelodeon.

After that, I felt as if the liquid has been wrung out of my lungs and immediately started smoking. Yes, my lungs definitely feel better, and I'm ready to write.

This is how you organise your freelance life.

I got short term projects and long term ones. Short term projects are supposed to make money quickly. Long term ones are set for the future. I also have mid-term projects.

If the stars are aligned, and all I planned are fruitful, I will be busy till the middle of the year. For the rest of the year, I got some things cooking for beyond May. Some new opportunities also opened up and I am looking at them.

I also want to use the free time, which looks to be diminishing as the days go by, to go and sculpt my body to one day become an underwear model.

Look, I just want to be a regular multi-millionaire, so I could retire at an early age and help people.

I don't want power. I don't want people to fear or worship me. That's not my dream. If that is yours, then knock yourself out. It's just not me, bra.

If I wanted power, I would have been a politician. My family is influential enough for me to win a seat or two, if I push it. I'll be one of those people. Driving Harriers and wearing blue slacks and white shirts with double pockets in front. And fiddling with my two iPhones - one for the wife and work, another for the mistresses and few-night-stands.

Or I'd pretend to be a pious Malaysian Syariah-compliant politician and moralise people everyday.

I'd get paid a lot of money, for lying. In fact, all you assholes who lie, should become politicians. If you're not already.

The fact is, I'm one of the stupid ones. For all my giganormous intelligence, I do not hold the fate of the world in my hands.

I simply do not have the desire to control people, as much as I love my own freedom.

Anyone who tries to use other people, I regard with suspicion. Not hate or anger, but with a certain sense of wariness.

I believe in freedom, regardless of how stupid that sounds. I think that so many people before me fought so hard, and died so horribly, in order for other people to be able to enjoy their lives and make their own decisions.

These days, there are very few things, and even fewer people, that I do I believe in.

Oh well. Time to do some work.

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Bringer of Rain

I was sleeping just now, when a call came in.

All I could manage was, "Whah? Huh? Okay."

Man, I got lots to finish tonight! Muahahaha!

Konsep Bakhil

Masa bapak aku bersara dulu (dia cikgu sekolah), dia ditawarkan jadi ketua kampung.

Aku (masa tu belasan tahun kot) nasihatkan dia suruh jangan ambik. Pasal menyusahkan je.

Bapak aku cakap kat aku, "Kalau kau boleh buat benda, pastu ko tak buat, dan ko relaks-relaks je, tu bakhil namanya."

Dia terangkan pada aku yang kalau kau boleh buat sesuatu dengan bagus, pastu ko ambik jalan mudah tak buat pasal ko malas atau ada kerja makan gaji buta je, itu bermakna kau bakhil pada dunia.

Dan bila kau kedekut dengan dunia, maka dunia akan kedekut dengan kau.

Itu selari dengan falsampah dia sebagai Cina dan jugak pembelajaran agama dia. Bapak aku bukan imam, bukan lebai-melebai. Orang biasa je. Tapi pegangan dia memang cukup keras dan degil. Sebab tu kitorang biasa gaduh.

Aku tengok, masa dia pegang jawatan Ketua Kampung, memang banyak benda dia buat. Kalau dia tak jadi, aku rasa kampung aku lagi ramai orang mati atau jadi penagih kot?

Kampung aku hardcore, beb. Bukan main-main punya kampung.

Apa pun, bertitik-tolak dari situ, aku memang dah tak boleh nak duduk relaks goyang kaki. Bukan aku nak jadi hamba tebusan orang. Sesapa nak memperhambakan aku akan aku jahanamkan kesemuanya. Tapi, aku hanya percaya pada kerja yang tulus ikhlas. Aku tak boleh nak makan gaji buta.

Orang lain, orang lain punya hal. Rezeki aku, walaupun ditentukan Tuhan, tapi mestilah sesuatu yang setimpal dengan usaha aku dan kepandaian aku. Dan aku tau nilai kerja aku. Kalau tak mampu nak bayar, pergilah mampus.

Aku memang degil.

Nak bukak kompeni lah. Nama kompeni: De Gil.

Death and Rebirth

Ancient spirits of eeevillll...

Transform this decaying form... into Amir Hafizi! The EVER! FUCKING!

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Liberi Fatali

Two years. Two long fucking years.

I didn't seal away Lucifer. I sealed myself.

In the pursuit of doing a website that could change everything. On a global scale. The solution for journalism's decay. The idealist anarchic invention and ultimate manifestation of democracy.

The REAL freedom of the Press, handing over control of the media to the public.

Shattered dreams, all of it.

I have failed. Failed to convince people of the dream. Failed to articulate it in a sellable manner. Failed. Failed. Failed.

And with my failure, comes freedom.

It is no longer my fight. Eventually, maybe 10, maybe 50 years from now, whatever I foresee will come to pass. But I will not be the instigator. It is not my responsibility anymore.

Now, let's get down to business.

Superhuman Samurai Spirits

I am Destruction!

The Devourer of Worlds.

And I will create my kingdom with my own two hands, and wear my crown upon a troubled brow.

Fuck all you haters. Fuck all you snivelling little weasels with huge inferiority complexes.

I am the greatest. So fuck you all.

Freedom and Honor

My ancestors did not fight tooth and nail so that one day, their kin, their blood, would run in fear on their own land.

I do not see myself as belonging to anything, but it would be a great disservice to those who came before me, if I were to live a life of lies.

I cannot keep my head down, because my head is quite large. If I keep it down, it will snap my neck and I will die an Elephant Man's death.

I enjoy the freedom that so many have died for. They fought honorably, without the need to sneak and slither like reptiles.

We are warm-blooded, free men. What use is guile? That is going against my very nature. I live true, and I live free. Let God sort out the rest.

I believe that any bond is imaginary. It is we, ourselves, who keep us true to our own words.

I apologise for nothing. I regret nothing. I have always been what I have always been.

It doesn't matter if the Book of Five Rings was a lie. The idea and the thought behind it is something to aspire to.

I will kill myself before I sink to being a snivelling little coward.

Full frontal nudity! Yeah!

Battle at Hell's Gate

I decided to yell at someone over the phone today, and then send a strongly-worded letter to the company which caused some commotion.

You see, I am a member of a fitness club. A few weeks ago, I was told to come and settle some outstanding payment. There is an offer that they will waive the fees if I decide to sign another 12-month contract with the club.

Since I've been meaning to continue the membership anyway, since I will have more free time soon, I acquiesced to that, even though I did contact them to freeze my membership last year, with no positive response.

In any event, I will be busy till February, so I wanted to start in March.

So anyway, after paying, I was told I cannot freeze my account in February. Since I will be more or less busy in March, I decided to ask that my account be frozen in March.

They agreed, everyone was happy and I thought that was that.

Lo and behold. Today, someone called me up and said that my account will not be frozen and that I will have to pay for March as well.

I was like, "What? I thought this thing was settled."

"No! You have to pay!"

"Fuck you!"

"This is madness!"

"Madness? This! Is! Bangsar!"

"You still have to pay!"

"I will write a letter of complaint."

"You can write whatever."

Taking my spear and my Spartan shield, I wrote an email to their country manager.

A strongly-worded one. Stronger than ones the UN writes to stop genocide. The UN should hire me to write those letters.

Immediately, I get a response, from two different people, over the phone. And I got it done.

All I wanted was to freeze my account in March. That was all. I tried reason. It didn't work.

You know, when doing customer service, please be advised that:

1. The customer does not like being told that he or she cannot do what common sense dictates as possible.

2. WHen you tell the customer that everything is handled, everything should have been handled. Being sneaky about things is not acceptable.

The whole problem with this is the fact that they were being sneaky about it. They hid from me the fact that my account was not frozen. I didn't sign up for this shit. When I was told, "Everything is in order." I expect everything to be in order. I can take paying for February, but DO NOT lie to me. I do not have a vagina.

The second was to challenge me on my honesty. I follow up with what I say. I may have a big mouth, but I will do whatever I can to back myself up. I'm not a fucking liar. I'm not sneaky. I say what I do and do what I say.

If I say I am going to write a letter, I will write a letter. If I say I will do handstands, I will do handstands. Do not taunt me. You do not know what the fuck I will do.

And I am just one customer. There are bigger bitches out there, baying for blood. I do not want blood. I just want my account frozen in March. Was that so difficult?

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Causus Belli

Imma jack off in front of your mama and cum all over her face, motherfucker! And she's gonna like it. Cause she a slut-ho-whore-priestess.

Ya think ya can jump me? Nigga please. I jump your mother in her little ho outfit faster than you can yell "Supplies!"

Fucking ass-fucked motherfuckers. In case you forgot, I'm still hot, so knock that dick out your mouth and fucking kiss my ass.

Owhhh yeah! Kiss my ass, motherfucker! You goin down on me, and ain't nothin' anyone can do to stop you sucking. My dick.

Carutan Pembunuh Dewa

Burit mak kau!

Bapak ko suka isap kelentit lembu! Kelentit lembu yang ada taik lembu hijau lagi!

Mak kau suka rogol ubi keledek! UBii keledek! Dia main bijik kelentit dia pakai batang keladi! Dia petik bijik kelentit dia macam gitar pakai batang keladi!

Oi! Kalau setakat itu jelah akal kau, untuk menipu orang, baik ko ambik basikal lama kepala atuk ko, gilap lawa-lawa, pastu sumbat masuk jubur taik nenek ko!

Ko suka mengumpat ye? Ko tau? Jiran sebelah rumah ko dah 15 tahun asyik cerita kat orang pasal mak kau melukah tunjuk bijik kelentit kat abang posmen, ko tau? Dasar mak ko sundal.

Bapak ko tu, suka isap konek kucing, ko tau? Ko ingat tak, raut wajah kucing ko yang nampak kecewa, macam kena tibai? Tu bapak ko rogol dia la tu. Ko apahal?

Southern Comfort

Last year, around seven months ago, I decided to eventually dramatically alter my current working arrangements and find something that would satiate my wanderlust.

As always, any traumatic decision such as this is accompanied with me having a walkabout in the city. I did it in 2006, and I did it again in 2010.

I found an Australian woman drinking alone in Midvalley Gardens. Had a brief chat, but she made me feel comfortable for a while.

Now, having started the plunge, I found Junior Masterchef Australia, a TV show which somewhat restores some faith in humanity. That out there, somewhere, there is something left in this wretched human existence worth saving, worth protecting.

And you know what? That's all I need.

Take a Look Around

I am currently tying up a pre-shoot script for a documentary on a Malaysian hero.

He gave everything to this country, to now see it dominated somewhat by people who would stoke the fires of racism and fear.

I believe that ALL - bar none - political parties succumb to racism in order to win votes.

As who was it, Jon Stewart?, said, "The person who yells 'let's have a rational discussion about this!'" will not be listened to.

The rational voice is unpopular. Why? Because politics, is professional wrestling.

If the Rock said, "Come on, Triple H, let's have a solid, rational, calm dialogue about our differences," he would not be the most electrifying man in sports entertainment. He would say, "Triple H-ahhhhh! Why don't-ahhhhhh! You take that sledge hammer, shine it up real nice, tuen that sumbitch sideways and stick it up your candy ass!"

The Truth is, people want racism. People want whatever it is you're complaining about. YOU want whatever it is you're complaining about. Cause if you don't want it, you'd stop and chuck it away. You would leave situations you do not like, thrown away stuff you do not need, and cut off motherfuckers, bastards and assholes from your life.

But you wanted it that way, and that's why it's there.

And it's not wrong. It's just your choice. Dumbass.

Village People: Gods of the Arena

So I came back to KL, searching for the ones who promised help in securing the funds for the village housing project for the poor.

I found them on their way to Europe. Of course, I can wait for them, but I would like to try and open other doors.

In the next few days, I will contact friends and family members for any contacts for the things I need to get this project off the ground.

And I thought, "Hey, maybe I could push this online."

So here's the plan.

I have a deserving poor family in need of a house. The material and workforce will need a total of RM25,600. The furniture and other odd things will need another RM4,400 or more, making it a RM30,000 project.

WHat I need first are:

1. A charity foundation that is tax-deductible. Meaning, if anyone or any company contributes any amount of money, they can claim it as a reduction on their taxes.

I would need this organisation to house the project under, as well as their letter of support for it, in order for me to make my rounds.

2. Volunteers, First Tier

I would need people who would be able to spend their time and effort in securing funds and help me manage the project. I can start it off, but I can hardly do it alone.

I have some ideas on where to get these, and by end of February, some of my friends will be back from Europe, but I would like to see if anyone out there wants to contribute anything.

Though I do not limit any religion or religious parties from joining me, I must say that this project is strictly non-denominational. As for political parties, well, money would be nice, but I do not want to turn this into a circus, so no heavy presence of any parties whatsoever. Corporate representation, though, is most welcome.

Contact me at

Blood and Sand

You know, I don't know why, but a lot of people I meet seem to think I grew up in KL. Or in a city. Maybe when I was young, after school, I go and play some video games on my Micro Genius or some shit. I never had a fucking Micro Genius or an Atari.

That I would sneak a cigarette or two behind the school shed or fuck a girl in the graveyard. That my views as a child was one of privilege and wealth. And fucking.

Well, I am thankful that I was not raised in the inner cities, that I had enough to eat - and sometimes more - that my parents did not rape me or were junkies who made me blind cause my mother was shooting up while she was pregnant with me. Or that I was born with cerebral palsy, or stupid.

I had a pretty normal childhood. I was more interested in books than in people, which saved me from a lot of stupid things. One classmate got pregnant when she was 13 or thereabouts. Some were killed in motorcycle accidents. At 17. A childhood friend died of AIDS in recent years.

My toys were primarily hand-me-downs. Broken either by my older siblings or by my own hand.

My allowance was 50 cents a week, in primary school. That meant I had the luxury to decide on either buying an extra glass of water or two slices of keropok every recess.

I saw a total of two movies in my first 15 years of life.

There were lots of books, however, and lots of TV.

I come from Kuantan - a town by the beach - but all I ever saw of the beach, all I remember of Teluk Chempedak from my childhood is having a pre-packed meal in my father's unair-conditioned Opel Kadett, while the beach was around 200 metres away. That, and a kindergarten trip to Pantai Batu Hitam where I was given the neck of a chicken to gnaw on, and had salt water in my nostrils, when I departed the shore, which I did not like.

Chicken necks. I thought my father loved chicken necks. That's why he kept buying them, I thought. Then, later in life, it dawned on me that the reason he kept buying them was because it was cheap.

I took him shopping a few years back, when he was still healthy, and bought chicken breasts, wings and drumsticks. He thought it was a waste of good chicken.

If we wanted to eat anything in abundance, we had to grow them, or rear them. My father had a green thumb and his cucumbers and eggplants - brinjals to some of you - were the size of horses' cocks. Morning glory with leaves as big as yams'.

I spent backbreaking afternoons watering corn. 350ml in each hole. And then selling them, RM2.50 per 7 ears.

And yet I had it easier than my siblings, some of whom had to herd cows or sell fruits to augment the family income. They worked like slaves.

And yet, my family was better off than most, in my village.

A lot more, had a lot less. My father was a teacher, so his income was considered 'middle class'. Do you know how much they pay teachers? Not much.

The Government used to classify anyone living in rural areas with a household income of less than RM500 a month (for four) as poor. In the cities or towns, it is RM1500 or thereabouts. My neighbour makes RM400 a month, IF they pay him, to support eight people.

I read somewhere that in the '70s or maybe earlier, Prof Diraja Ungku Aziz did a research that states the reason for the rural kids not doing well in school is because they do not have enough food.

If you're hungry, you can't study. Better off killing birds for that night's supper than hitting the books - a luxury I had.

Judging by this, I am very lucky. By a simple twist of fate, I could have been born in the other families, struggling to survive. STruggling even more. There would be no chicken necks. Chicken shit, maybe.

And people in the Government wonder why some people are against them.

Undoubtedly, there are a lot of help available. There are numerous funds, largely unclaimed. If you want to start a tailoring business or want to start a kerepek enterprise, the Government requires only that you go to classes, and they will provide you with the machinery. So with the skills and the machines, the only other ingredient is capital, which you can apply for. But what is lacking is drive, and proper management.

Malays, are a self-sabotaging race. On the individual level, as well as on the community level. Actually, I believe that Malaysians in general are self-sabotaging. However, since most of the other races are generally in better economic brackets, they will not starve.

That being said, I believe that any effort to alleviate poverty should reach across the board and not be race-based at all. In an ideal world, we should not be counting the pigmentation on our skins. But yeah. Fuck you.

ANyway, if someone tries to get him or herself up above their situation, usually they get laughed at, or schemes and plots would hatch. I understand that. It is only animal nature that people feel insecure and try to drag others down to their perceived level or lower. But wait. ANimals do not do that.

These poor people cannot fend for themselves. They may be seen by some as failures, but their existence is our failure as a society. I also perceive them as a threat.

Desperate people will do desperate things. If one day, the cities will not rise, because they are fattened up and contented with their capitalist dreams, the rural folk - the poor ones, may grab their hoes (of the non-prostitute kind) and sickles and machetes and do a Hutu Vs Tutsi number on the rich.

Some may think to control them, as a political weapon, but you cannot fool all the people, all the time. The time shall come when Caesar will rise and turn this into a Planet of the Apes.

I don't want the next few generations celebrating a Malaysian version of Bastille Day. Or that a modern-day Guy Fawkes may actually succeed.

Poverty is a cycle. It's like abuse. Poverty-stricken people breed even more poverty-stricken people. There are better literature and research on all this. I don't need to reinvent the wheel.

Anyway, I will be out of a job soon. Aside from taking care of myself and my own ass, I also want to help. My contributions will be small. But I will not go down without a fight. And this is a fight that matters. It is not whimsical, farcical or petty.

I spent my 20s believing that I will be part of some things that could change society. I understand now, in my 30s, that I will have to start it myself.

I have been given the tools and the resources to kickstart some things. I do not know what will happen and how things will turn out. It could be bad, but I have taken more insane risks before, as I am doing right now with my own life.

Bring it on.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Calling the Company

I'm weak and stuck at home with a slight temperature. Slipping in and out of my feverish dreams, I began to think that I would make a good CIA agent.

So here's my offer.

Hey, CIA! Give me US$400 million and I will give you any and all information you would need. And also information you would not need.

C'mon, man. I read wikipedia! C'mon! I'll suck yo dick! I'll suck yo dick! (for US$400 million. Batteries sold separately).

To Cogitate and To Solve

I was telling my family in Kuantan that I meditate, and even though I expected a reaction from them telling me that I was being pretentious, I was a bit surprised that they began telling fairy tales about people who meditate losing their minds.

"You'll go crazy," they said.

Well, there has been cases where people who talk about religion being carted off to death camps, ehem, I mean, 'rehabilitation centers', right here in Malaysia.

It is very dangerous to have a dissenting voice. If you're not part of the whatever, some people tend to kill you for it. And when you get killed, you die.

However, there were people who taught me that after you have chosen your fight, do so fearlessly. There will be hordes of spiteful people on your tail, but guess what? They're on your tail, eating your bullshit.

First of all, religion is not my fight. I ended that years ago. I believe that whatever you believe in, suits you best. Even if you believe in an invisible pink unicorn, you deserve the invisible pink unicorn. In fact, take that invisible pink unicorn, shine it up real nice, turn that sumbitch sideways, kiss it for good luck and stick it up your candy ass.

Like I give a shit.

The only thing I want to say is that always value a dissenting voice. I was a part-time lecturer, briefly, at a private college last year. There were some dissenting voices about my syllabus and teaching style. I did not seek out to silence those voices. I mean, it is not my job to be SEEN or DEEMED as right. I believe that it is my duty to get these people out of their shells and take command of the world around them.

Of course, there is a delicate balance to be maintained.

In the end, some of the opposing voices scored very high. I don't care whether it was their righteousness or their hard work that got them there. What matters is that they got there, in the end. Some even went beyond my expectations and delivered some really amazing demonstrations of their skills.

I thought that I wanted to stop teaching, but seeing as to how some of the students did, and how some conveyed their thanks, I am intrigued to perhaps do that again.

So, back to meditation. Meditation has worked for me in lessening my cough and calming my overactive head. My problem, since I was a young child, was focus. I hate discipline and couldn't force myself to sit down and really just finish something, without a Herculean effort of concentration.

I find that emptying my mind of everything else and focusing on a singular point helps a lot in doing whatever I set out to do. It also eliminates everyone else from my universe. I stop thinking about other people's moves, emotions and eventual destruction. Everything will come, in time. Thinking about it does not make things happen.

I just focus on what I need to do. I know how I want to spend my 30s and it is not doing some of the things I have done before. I want to try out new things before routine starts.

And if I piss some people off along the way, well, you can't make omelettes without cracking a few eggs.

One senior editor once told me, "Amir, I have pissed off two Prime Ministers and a bunch of ministers during my time. I have received threats to my life and condemnation from many quarters - most of whom have never known me at all. And you know what? I'm still the ___ of ____."

At the end of the day, you need to decide what matters. The fights that matter, the people who do matter. The rest are all, well, garbage in your head. Bogging you down and holding you back from your own dreams and responsibilities.

That, I do believe in.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Men and Women of Tomorrow

I now have a new yardstick for measuring children's potential. If your child can't make a Lamb Wellington by the time he or she is 12, you have failed as a parent. If he or she does not know what duxelle is and how to cook it to perfection, you have failed as a parent.

I have three nephews. That's not the same as having children. Thank God, it's not the same as having children. I never want children, because it is a huge responsibility. Having nephews means I can take them out once in a while, and buy them books they may never read.

However, seeing the kids featured in Junior Masterchef Australia and Live to Dance, I am made very aware of how far behind Malaysian children, parents, and our society in general are compared to those in other countries.

We may be ahead of say, Ghana, but that's no excuse, really.

The thing is not about creating prodigies, or nurturing geniuses, but what I saw in those TV shows are attitudes and temperament which I do not see here.

In Live to Dance, the very first contestant was Jalen, who is like, 9 years old? Maybe 10. He dances. Okay, fine. His father was the one who intrigued me. He was a man, probably in his 40s, tattooed on both his arms. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a tough guy.

But he was crying like a bitch as he said this, "I never got the support and opportunity from my parents, so it was important for Jalen to have everything I never had."

Looking at the kid and how he performed, as well as his sunny disposition, I believe that that is a happy kid with a loving father.

There are numerous other examples. Most clear are the kids on Junior Masterchef Australia. These kids are from 8-12 years old and they are cooking dishes that are usually done only by accomplished chefs.

Take Pierre, who did the Lamb Wellington - the lamb version of Gordon Ramsay's Beef Wellington. While it took those chefs years of practice and getting it right, Pierre simply did it almost subconsciously, from his cooking time with his grandma.

There's Jack, from Tasmania, who always prepares his dishes with an artistic flair. And the sisters (twins?) who will probably place in the top three - Isabella and Sofia.

They do stuff from souffles to chicken pies and whatever else that comes to mind. Even prawn with chocolate and lime sauce.

I was actually watching the adults in that show. No matter how prodiguous, these are still kids and the dishes they cook may sometimes get burnt or suffer from any number of imperfections.

But this is what was said to the boy who made the prawns with lime and chocolate sauce - "I don't want you to ever stop being creative."

I can imagine that a dish of prawn with chocolate and lime sauce may taste weird at best, or downright horrible at worst, but the reaction from the judges and the sheer knowledge of these kids show me that there are better communities to raise your kids in. Where they get proper support and perhaps get taught the kind of values that may take some time for kids in other countries to discover on their own.

I have been playing with my nephews, and even though their parents work hard at putting food on the table, and fattening them up, I sense that those three will have to rely only on their innate sense of right and wrong as well as talent and intelligence that they were born with.

This is not a condemnation. I am not going on a moral high horse, because I do not believe in morals, except for ones I set upon myself. I am not calling any parent - well, not most of you - stupid.

I am merely saying that after I have seen what is possible, I often wonder what kind of bullshit is being done on most Malaysian kids, by bullshit parents?

I come from a family of teachers, and after watching those shows, we sat down and discussed somewhat why I have never seen Malaysian kids attain that level of knowledge, security and sense of responsibility.

I am not talking about music and math geniuses. I am talking about the demeanour and how these kids carry themselves.

We all have gone through the education system, and most of us have been brought up by human parents. I guess we all see the flaws ourselves.

When I was a kid, all I was ever told was to get As in my exams. While the curriculum (which means 'chariot horse' in Latin, I was told) was done by very smart people, I believe that the culture of merely getting As as infinitely flawed.

I was never taught to have a thirst or respect for knowledge. I was taught to get number one, regardless of the consequences. I got them all, but at a very young age, I have suspected that there are more things to it.

Science was not taught with wonder and excitement, as well as a dose of history, but with notes on what kind of questions will come out in the exams.

And I see two kinds of parents - those who push their children to get As, and those who make excuses when their children don't. I see both groups as doing a disservice to their kids.

Some parents teach their kids to be manipulative and sneaky. The young people are threatened with abandonement and rejection.

I know it is hard to control five year olds. But... really?

I do not believe that it is yet possible for the adults in this country - myself included - to teach kids the kind of awareness I see in kids from other countries. There, I see the future.

This is why, I have always advised my friends who have children, to take their kids and raise them elsewhere. They might grow up to be the Mahathirs if they are left to develop here, but Dr M is but one person of 28 million.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


I have been spending the past few days in Kuantan, my hometown.

The kind of drama and bullshit I face with and from my family eclipses anything I could ever face in my 'real life' in KL.

These people, my family, put each other through every imaginable psychological and emotional torture. Good thing is, I already made peace with them and their nature years ago.

I got information for some projects as well. We'll see what happens, after I'm done with it.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Cut the bullshit.

If the BN wants to lose more majority and possibly seats in the next election, please, by all means, curb Internet freedom.

Without an outlet, the people may take either to the streets or the ballot box to express their dissatisfaction, real or imaginary.

Walk Like an Egyptian

Balls to the Wall

When I was in college, a lot of people say they want to make music videos. Some, wanted to do 3D design. Others, make movies, play in a band, work in advertising, whatever.

Now, like, more than eight years later, most of them are not.

I guess they eventually realised what hard work any of those things are. How little the money is, et cetera.

They perhaps didn't know the kind of hard work that goes into anything. Never anticipated it. Everything would just be laid down in front of your feet. And you get to enjoy prancing around, basking in the image of being creative.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I know some people in advertising whose tax returns alone are RM30,000 or more. They drive Beemers and Benzs, and the occasional Bentley. I know directors who make great money.

I have worked with people who make more than RM50,000 a month.

And many - though not a majority - are relatively young. Some are bastards. Some are angels. Some used or backstabbed everyone on their way up. Some, are very kind.

It is how it is.

No matter how high they get all of them talk about more or less the same things. How to be happy. How to fuck more pussy. How to make MORE money.

No use asking them, how much is enough? There's always something.

The happy people - doesn't matter if they're driving a Jaguar or they are drivers driving the Jag for someone else (I like to talk to drivers and security detail/bodyguards) - are always going on about this one drug: acceptance.

Now, I'm not gonna go all New Age and shit again here, but let me tell you a story.

I was in Thailand a lot, cause one of the keys to happiness is getting as much pussy as you can, and some red light districts in Thailand are like an ass buffet, and I love talking to dem hos. Sometimes, I talk to motherfuckers who fuck dem hos. And sometimes, I talk to drivers of tuktuks and cabs who drive dem hos around.

I ask them, "Are you okay with the sex industry?" "Are you okay with foreign men fucking your women?" "Are you okay with fucking strange men?"

The answer I got was consistent.

"Well, maybe in the previous life, she/I was a bitch. Now, she/I is a ho. Ho-hum."

And they're - some of them, at least - happy, sucking cock.

If I was sucking dick all day long, I'm not sure how I can be happy. But these people are. Some, are happier than me. Sucking cock.

Infer what you must.

Oh, and to tie this up, dem hos also have dreams, just like my college-mates. They want to open mini-marts.

Well, looking at the number of 7-Elevens in Thailand (1 every 200 metres in Bangkok and Phuket), I guess they're happy they're on their way to opening more convenience stores, one cock at a time.

Hikmat Ketenangan dan Ketenteraman Abadi






Erm. I mean, freelancing is something like this:

Hard for me to explain, see?

My old mentor, Zainal Alam Kadir, taught me that any skill I learn in one discipline can be applied in other things.

Take, for example, writing. I spent most of my free time in high school reading and writing. That's all I ever did. Aside from watching my ass.

See, writing takes skill, right? Well, so do reading. When you read something, a writer would always, always, get inside the author's head. You need to.

For young kids, just think of Copy-Ninja Kakashi from Naruto. Kakashi has one Sharingan eye, which he uses to copy the moves of other ninjas.

It is not the moves, really, that you are learning. It is the essence. Because if you only follow the style, you're missing out on a whole shitload of stuff.

If you must know, I copied a lot of Tatsuya 'Sinfest' Ishida, Chris Rock, Neil Gaiman, Brian Michael Bendis, Frank Miller and Warren Ellis for a lot of my shit. Though I must say Gaiman is uncopiable, because he uses the same technique. His writing is basically done in the style of past greats like Michael Moorcock, Harlan Ellison and Ursula K LeGuin, as well as the Elder God of Writing Alan Moore.

Alan Moore is simply an alien. I can't get into his head. I just can't.

So anyway, freelance. Yes. Applying my not inconsiderable writing skills, I tell myself that I can write anything. And I did.

I have written articles, books, novels, short stories, scripts, papers, proposals, translations, whatever, man. You name it, I wrote it. I have written for any and all disciplines.

Sometimes, I didn't know how to do it. So I found out. I didn't know how a film script looks like. So I asked around. I got Yasmin Ahmad to show me her script. I bought the script and some artwork for Mirrormask - a movie Gaiman did with Dave McKean. Cost my over 200 bucks. I went to and downloaded some scripts such as the Academy Award winning A Beautiful Mind. Didn't cost me a thing.

See, if you want to do something, you can't simply do it by having the idea of it. A lot of people just like the idea of something. But when it comes to doing the work, they run away and hide. Why? Cause they're cowards.

Rule #1 - Freelancers must have balls.

I'm not saying actual testicles. I'm saying, you need to be brave. Courageous. Every problem is an opportunity to exercise your creativity.

If people ask me, 'Can you write this shit?' I'd say, 'Hell, yeah, I can.' You know why? Because I can. I do.

I have had normal and strange requests thrown at me. Anything from writing poems to be read on live TV (one by Lisa Surihanie and another by Rahim Razali and Fauziah Nawi, no less), to a 12-word translation for an accessory company.

I have been asked to write books, films, you name it. There is nothing written that I haven't tried my hand before.

Once you understand how a writer's mind works in order to come up with passages that resonate with you, or just some bits that you like, you can write. The next question would be, do you want to?

The Truth is, freelance writing is just like any other freelance job. The freedom, the risks are more or less the same.

First thing you have to learn, is that it's a big bad world out there. Some people won't pay you. Some, would press you like you're their bitch. Well, if it's a high-paying gig, then that would be okay. If it's not, RUN!

Always, always protect yourself with black and white. Contracts are vital. Emails are important. If possible, NEVER delete any email. Some courts accept email evidence. And the people's court can be just as damaging.

Be careful what kind of contract you sign, if any. Read everything. EVERYTHING. If you don't want to, do not be a freelance writer. Get a desk job somewhere or fuck a rich guy. Or have your mother fuck a rich guy.

Now, the interesting part. How do you get freelance jobs?

Well, to this day, this remains a mystery to me. In 2003, after I graduated, I got lots of jobs writing. In 2006, I got even more jobs. In 2011, it seems as if that door has opened again.

The universe will provide for you. If you're good at your craft, word gets around. People will look for you.

If they don't, you've got to start looking. In fact, I look everywhere. I do not say no to meetings. I check my email every day. Return all my missed calls. You never know, you know?

Where to look? Well, there is the Internet. Don't be fooled by MLM scams or conmen. Know your industry. Know what people want. Know how the world works. And never trust anyone. Always have your own back. Never lend your money to druggies. I learned that the hard way.

I also believe in karma. I have done some good in my day, and I am reaping the benefits. I did not do those things so I could benefit from them, but it is a very humbling lesson that no good deed I have done has ever gone unrewarded or unpunished in some way.

Make yourself open. I believe that in order to accept, you have to let go. No new thing will come into your life until you have let go of some old things.

Be realistic. No one is going to say, "Hey, Amir, I'm going to pay you a million bucks a word while I suck your dick." It's not impossible, and I welcome it, but come on.

There are also people who bitch and moan about how little they get. Well, if they spent the time they wasted on bitching and moaning about it on actually finding work, they might get some.

Finding the work is important, but never forget to do it. Always set some standards.

With me, it's simple. I do the best I can, or I don't do it at all. I'm the best at what I do, or I don't do it.

Remember, when finding freelance work, or doing any kind of business, always believe in abundance.

I'm not talking about some stupid delusional abundance some rah-rah idiots subscribe to. That's pathetic, insulting and stupid, to assume that things will just fall into place, that work will do itself, that jobs will just fall out of the sky. I have met lots of lazy-assed people. Great minds, heavy ass. If you meet these people, RUN! RUNNN! You know why? Cause you'll end up with all the work, and you can't afford that cause time - your time - is money. Your money.

That being said, I have experienced some occasions when some jobs just fell out of the sky. I am not ashamed to tell you that when some of these things happen, I go home and fucking cry. Like a bitch.

It will happen to everyone. I believe that. You just have to live long enough for it to happen. It's not magic, it is the accumulation of your good work, your good name and your good deeds. Also, lots and lots of luck.

I asked one guy the other day, "How did you find out about me?" He said, "I dunno. I just Googled 'writer Malaysia' and your name popped out in a list. No one else on that list replied to my emails."

I tried to Goggle 'writer Malaysia' or 'Journalist Malaysia' and my name was not in any list. I'm not a legendary journalist, nor do I want to be one. But for one moment, one instant, the Gods of the Internet showed him my name, and my email. And lo and behold, I was writing a proposal for something that could keep me afloat for some time.

Some people I met in a bar recommended me for some jobs. All I did was share my views on women. I didn't know it was a job interview.

It's nice to have contacts, but it is not necessary. Also, I do not believe in being a cutthroat Machiavellian or doing things the macha-vellian way.

As long as it is not confidential, I like to share my information and knowledge. Will writing all these tips spoil the market for me? Will people who follow these things I wrote take away jobs from me?


Well, at least I don't think so. See, I am not a man of faith, but I do have faith in myself, my skills and my work ethics. I'm not a wishy-washy pimple-faced teenager. In fact, I never had a serious pimple problem.

I do not believe in harping on scarcity. I believe in abundance. I believe that there is more than enough for everyone. Also, that the more you share, the more you gain, but that is not the point of sharing.

At the end of the day, just be good. Be good at what you do. Be a good person.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


I build my life around the philosophy I find in comic books. And sometimes, TV series inspired by the comic books.

I don't like Smallville anymore. Not since it outlived its freshness a few seasons ago.

But I am watching season 10, because it may be the last one.

In one of the episodes, Brainiac 5 travelled from the future and gave some advice to Clark Kent who was going through some crisis.

Previously, in Smallville, Jor-El has forsaken Clark Kent. All the tests, trials and manipulation were for naught. Clark has to find his own way to becoming Earth's mightiest defender. This being Smallville, he goes on an emo trip.

Brainiac 5 shows Clark what happened in the past, present and future.

"Don't dwell on the past, and don't worry about tomorrow," said Brainiac 5.

"Yeah, I forgot what was in front of me all the time," said Clark.

For some reason, this reminds me of Pootie Tang.

"Sine your pity on the runny kine. Say sadatay, and be okay," said Pootie.

Oh yeah, baby. Wapatah, camietown. Whattatah.