2012 Part I

This year has been about escalating violence and stupidity. The world didn't end on Dec 21, but seeing what has happened in the world these past few months, I wonder whether it should have.

A young man took weapons to a school, shot and killed 26 people, 20 of them kids between 6-7 years old.

Meanwhile, a 23-year-old Indian woman was kidnapped, raped and beaten, then thrown off a bus.

Her 6 rapists inserted a metal rod into her, either through her vagina or anus, far enough to cause abdominal infection.

And yet she was lucid enough to give a testimony to the authorities that many believe don't really care about upholding the law and protecting the innocent. She died due to her severe injuries.

I read that her ordeal - the rape and the beating - lasted over an hour. And she was just coming out of a cinema. She just wanted to see a movie, as those kids in Sandy Brooks probably were just looking forward to recess.

All this, framed by the war in Gaza.

I see echos here in Malaysia. I'm not the cleanest guy around. In fact, I once grabbed a girl's ass in a pub, intoxicated I was with youth, stupidity and other things. But I do worry for a society - our society - that would say all a woman needs is a dick in her vagina, or that women who dress sexy are just asking for a metal rod shoved up her butt and into her intestines.

It saddens me that religion has been abused to commit these crimes. Gaza, India, the US, even here. Religion has been abused and misinterpreted so that people focus on things like dress codes and periods and semi-magic rituals and spell-casting rather than peace, tolerance, and all the other gay crap.

I mean, in Malaysia, a lot of Muslims are spending most of their 'religion time' to tell other people that they're doing religion the wrong way, like what I'm doing right now. They tell others how they pray, and how some inflections are correct, or they fight over the name of God. For what? Do you really believe God gives a flying fuck?


As a Malay man, I know I can get away with a lot of stuff. A LOT of stuff. I take my business elsewhere, though, in order to ensure I do not descend into becoming those six monkeys in that bus. Does that make me better than you, you might be wondering? I dunno. I never shoved a metal rod up people's asses. Not literally.

It's not about whether I am better or whether you are better. That's purely egotistical. I just wish that we, as a species, have had enough.

On a more personal front, my father's condition has deteriorated. I once witnessed how my grandparents got old and now I am seeing the same thing with my father.

We get old, we get ugly, we lose those things that we think make us who we are, and then we die. Nothing lasts forever.

Even more personal, I was going through perhaps the worst period of the year in the past few months. I felt the dark vibes and there was really nothing more I could do about it other than stand my ground and take care of what I can.

I'm glad 2012 is ending. I got plans for next year, for 2013. I know the what, but have yet to firm up the how and the who.

Best Video 2012

This is the best video of 2012.

Fuck Gangnam Style.

Flu Fighter: There Is Nothing Left To Lose

I woke up, boosted myself with as much vitamin C as I could, pumped up the multi-vitamins, and went to work.

My head felt like it was wrapped in a towel and I just don't give a fuck anymore.

I still managed to do all my tasks, on time and as well as I could. I still honour my work. However, I would be lying if I say that I didn't think of just lying down on a bed somewhere and just give myself an overdose of morphine.

Got an SMS about an assignment at 8pm. There was no one else, so I went to The Curve, packing a 7D and a 9mm semi-automatic.

Met Amir Muhammad who said, "It is better to do something you love than do something else that would get you to spend time doing something you love." And also, "Time is wealth" or some shit.

Went to the assignment, did my shit and went for dinner. I had some soupy stuff cause I could feel the fever getting stronger. Also bought some vitamin C and zinc, cause Neil Gaiman wrote about a character who said his aunt swore on vitamin C and zinc. And also that 'appointments are only by telephone' or some other such nonsense.

I went home around 11pm, feeling shitty as the fever got higher. The Guardian pharmacy at The Curve closes its prescription thing at 7pm, so fuck that shit. I know I need Clarinase or Actifed, but I think I'll get it tomorrow, if I am strong enough to get out of bed.

I know enough of pharmaceuticals to self-medicate. If I go to the clinic tomorrow, the doctors will only give me Actifed, Mucosolvan, maybe Difflam and also Benadryl. Rather, Bena-expectorant - the generic version of Benadryl. I'll also get Bactrim - an antibiotics which treats upper-respiratory tract bacteria. Some overzealous doctors might prescribe flagyl, an antibiotic which treats vaginal bacteria.

All of this are stupid, because flus are caused by rhinoviruses. Yep. Viruses. Antibiotics - something to kill bacteria - would only be for my swollen and possibly infected throat.

But that's just medication for my body. What about my soul? I burned out months ago.

Ah, small matter. I have already put into place certain ideas and things that will grow and the gears will turn, in an unstoppable revolution. Pretty soon, I'll be off on another HIGH ADVENTURE.

By Crom, I shall carve my own kingdom with my two hands and wear my crown upon a troubled brow. I have some time, and I don't give a flying fuck.

Flu Fighter: Learn to Fly

I haven't been feeling well since Christmas Eve, and I fear this sore throat I have will result in me being bed-ridden by the end of the week.

I still need to go to the office, because without me, nothing happens. It pisses and frustrates me that this is so, but it is as it is.

I had a long chat with a friend about equity share last night, and we soon got down to talking about dreams. My friend is almost obsessed with the idea of being great, of having great achievements.

"Do you have any dreams of being great?" he asked, with this hopeful glint in his eyes.

I shook my head.

"My dreams are very modest. I wish to be left alone as I write books. Everything I do - all of it - is simply to buy my freedom and purchase my time from the world so I could sit down and write, not worrying about food, rent or the Internet bill."

And that is the truth. Some people have dreams of whatever. I only want freedom. My friend and I have figured out that to get the necessary funds to retire, working for people is not the best way forward.

Imagine you have a job that pays you RM20,000 a month. Imagine that you spend RM10,000 a month and manage to save - in a Herculean effort, RM10,000 a month. At the end of the year, you would have RM120,000. Now, being humans, and this is especially true for Malays, you may take RM20,000 and buy shit you don't need, like a vacation, hookers, pay your mistress, get a big bouncing car, rims or splash it on bullshit.

That leaves you RM100,000. You need to work 10 years to hit RM1 million. And then, to reach my goal of RM2 million, that's 20 fucking years.

And what do you have to do, in order to earn RM20,000 a month? How many asses do you have to kiss? How many idiots do you have to tolerate? Who do you have to kill in order to get RM20,000 a month?

I'm not making RM20,000 a month right now. And I am the greatest mind of the 21st Century. Who the fuck are you? A politician? A liar?

Things that hold me back are my code of ethics which I follow simply because I do not wear a turban or pretend to be pious. If I pretended to be pious, I assure you I could fuck as many 12-year-olds as I could ever want - I just don't want to because I am not a pedophile.

I know more about religion than anyone I know. I know more about Islam than PAS people. I know more about Christianity than most people, and I know enough of Buddhism to tell you that 'Buddhists' in Malaysia have combined Buddhism with ancestral worship.

Buddha was not and is not a God. He never claimed to be one. The word Buddha simply means 'the enlightened one', which is very similar to Jose Mourinho calling himself 'the Special One'.

I retain 70% of what I heard and learned. People try to lie to me constantly, but my mind is like a tape recorder with detailed minutes of each conversation. This is why I hate liars. I can never work with liars. SO fuck liars.

I am embarking on the next stage of my journey in 2013. I don't know where it will take me. I just know enough that I will fall into depression again if I am not working towards my one true goal - freedom.

Kamen Rider Decade

Next year, in May, I will celebrate my 10 years in the industry. I have been in the media for 10 years.

I often compare notes with engineers, lawyers and the occasional sales people from outside my industry to better understand the world we live in.

A lot of my close friends have left the country, as I mentioned in previous posts. I sometimes wonder, why am I still here? Whenever I get depressed with Malaysia, I would seek out jobs with the UN. Their pay scale is rather attractive and I have always been interested in saving the world, having suffered from a superhero complex stemming from guilt since I was 17.

When I was 17, I finally realised that my high school was a hotbed for abuse and a small social experiment oh what the world would be like if it was run entirely by men, superstition and a compliance to an imagined authority. I felt guilty for not knowing that I was part of such a hellish system, so I developed a superhero complex.

It's not been an easy life, but I am not here to whine.

I focus on the present so I could safeguard the future. So I look to the past for lessons learned. In this past 10 years, I have learned that everywhere is the same. I constantly meet the same people over and over again. The same TYPES of people, doing practically the same thing.

The only way for me to effectively change my environment from unwanted elements is to establish control of that environment. Most humans in Malaysia shirk responsibility. They don't want to decide, or take ownership of anything. I don't know where the fear comes from, but it is distinctly Malaysian.

In terms of skills and knowledge, I have always busied myself observing how people work. My degree was in computer science, not mass comm or public relations, so in order to understand anything, I needed to shut up and observe.

One of my first editors convinced me that all the basic skills in journalism are simply common sense, and that common sense can be applied to any position, any task and any sort of work. I threw myself into lots of unfamiliar territories in the past decade, showing no fear - sometimes unwisely - and getting a whole bunch of mixed results. I've had some unbelievable successes and heart-wrenching failures, and sometimes I imagine that I have learned from those things.

In the first two years of my career, I accumulated debt. Credit cards fucked me up. Actually, I fucked myself up using credit cards to buy comic books. I used to spend anywhere between RM200-500 a month on comic books. It took me five years to pay off my credit cards. Three years to procrastinate, and two to do something about it.

I worked like a motherfucker for a year, during a period when I had  insomnia, and managed to pay off everything.

I used to take on any jobs, simply because I wanted to learn how to do things. I've never been afraid of hard work, in my youth, and saw those extra tasks as an opportunity to improve myself by acquiring more skills and knowledge by doing things.

Nowadays, growing older, I know I can't do anything and everything that's pushed my way. I need to choose and at this stage, I believe I can choose.

I come from the swamp, so I consider myself very lucky to have lasted this long in the big city. I also made and stuck with the decision to avoid drugs altogether. Drugs fucked up some people in my hometown. I knew then that if I were to do the same, knowing my addictive personality and my tendency to overdo things, I would be dead in three months.

Some people think I took drugs to write. Bitch, please. This is real talent right here. I'm not Lance Armstrong. Wank wank!

I did suffer from insomnia, though. It wasn't good at all.

Anyway, in my 10 years, which is not even half the experience with some people I work with, I have managed a tour of the media industry which included everything from newspapers, magazines, TV, film and now social as well as new media. The only medium I have never worked with is radio.

As for personal development, I have found my spiritual whatever in the non-magic texts of orthodox religions. I really have a problem when people treat religion as some sort of Harry Potter Magic Textbook or grimoire. I don't believe in magic. I just don't. I think that is abusing and misusing what religion was originally intended for - a manual to calm the fuck down.

Some humans need religion to keep them from being animals - stupid, evil and/or greedy. The Jewish beliefs have this thing called the Tree of Sefirot, which lists God, Angels and Humans as three levels of being. The tree has branches and each branch represents an attribute or feature for each of the three.

Some traditional religions have 'enlightenment stages' such as the arhant, the boddhisativa and the Buddha.

In Islam, I believe a lot of the things are philosophical and are in line with most other faiths. However, the closed nature of most Muslims have made these similarities less obvious, in an attempt to feel special or victimised, or special due to being victims.

Oh well. Fuck that.

I better get some sleep, or I might develop insomnia again.

Tales from the Drunk Side: COCKs, DICKs and PENISes.

As we all look towards the end of the year and the start of a new one, I begin to wonder as well as plan for next year's activities.

I am doing way too much, so I am thinking of stopping some activities to allow proper focus on others.

I believe that it is time for me to stop writing other people's scripts and focus entirely on my own stories, for film. I have so many stories to tell and not enough of a lifetime to write them all. I want to write novels next year.

I am also planning to go into business properly and set up another company. I believe that in my lifetime, I will probably set up three companies in my lifetime, and this would be the second after the first one in 2006.

I believe I also need a new acronym for my role. Something along the lines of Professional Expert on National Information Services (PENIS). I find it hilarious if such an acronym for that position is made commonplace. Corporate people love their jargon so .

PBT, EBITDA, ARPU, ROI, PATAMI, CEO, COO and the like. Why not PENIS?

"I need to send this report to the PENIS!"

"Hello, I would like to speak to your PENIS. It's regarding the budget."

"The PENIS is entirely responsible for the execution of this project, so all of you fuck off."

Or maybe DICK - Director of Internet Communications and Knowledge.

"Amir Hafizi is the best DICK in town."

"What do you do for a living, Amir?" "I'm a DICK, bitch!"

Or how about COCK? Consultant - Online Communications and Knowledge.

"What are your qualifications?" "I'm the best COCK in town, bitch!"

"Oh My God! Our company needs your help right now. I need to speak to your COCK!" "Here I am, bitch." "Oh My God! Oh My God! Oh My Godddd!"

I also plan to lose another 20kg, after I shake off this depression. Am not really that depressed anymore, after I figured out what I want and need to do.

The first is always the 'what'. Money. Novels. Films. Whatever. Next comes the 'how'. Execution, operations. I've always been a 'how' guy and I respect people who have huge respect for their work. I also take processes seriously, with the ultimate aim of improving them by eliminating steps in any and all processes. I am not impressed at all by conmen and liars because they always do and say stupid things and expect you to believe them, thinking you are as stupid or stupider than them.

I am also equally annoyed with people who believe just because they lie, I would as well. I have never told a lie. I have used smokescreens and omission of details or manipulated the timing of information, but have never told an outright lie.

For example, knowing the stalking nature of people who think social media is a great source for insight into verbose and expressive people like me, I have bombarded the Internet with non-vital information about myself. Yes, I have filled it with shit. If it really matters, why would I put it up?

I have never even uploaded a picture of myself on anything public. All of my pictures on Facebook, for example, were taken and tagged by other people, sometimes with smug superiority that they could take a picture of me. I have been very careful not to release any details out, but some people are just pathetic. I said some, so don't think it's you, it's the other ones.

I have also had my photo taken by a few homosexuals who believe I am one of them. One of them constantly calls me at 4pm every day last week. I don't know why, because 4pm is when some meetings occur and I had to to tell them to call me at another time. While I owe some training to gay people and am indebted to them for many things, I am afraid I am not gay.

Nothing wrong with gay people. In fact, I believe in supporting homosexuality, which means reduced competition for heteros like me, as well as more hot lesbian action.

Anyone and everyone who have ever tried to manipulate me are all dead. Figuratively. I no longer think about them. They simply do not exist.

I have met and am meeting some extremely smart people, and with it comes a different challenge.

Oh well.

I will cut my teeth with cold, hard business, with an aim of retiring, realistically, before I'm 40. The stretch target is before 35.

I have learned a lot about humans in my nine year career in the media. Most of the time, I prefer machines. There is only one breed of humans I do not understand - idiots. My process is to get into people's heads and find out how they work, how they see things and why they do what they do. With idiots, if I replicate the process, I am afraid of doing the same with their inferior, animalistic brains.

I lump racists, masochists, chauvinists, Femi-Nazis, freeloaders and the insecure in the same category as idiots, perhaps idiots as their genus and each a different species of the same shit.

The insecure fucks have made quite a splash in my world this year. I understand that the sheer capacity my brain holds, and my giganormous talents (with an 'S') would cause any person with a well-developed ego to shake in their knees, but some things are getting ridiculous.

I mean, talentS such as my own only exists once in a millennium  I am the greatest mind of the 21st Century. I just need to focus on what I want to do, and I am very confident that it will be done. Or not. An enlightened genius such as myself would not bother with past failures other than as 'things to avoid doing' later on, in future projects.

I am a gift to the world. You are not. Learn to live with that. And suck my dick.

The Last Dinosaur

 Caption: PICTURE IS UNRELATED

My family is in town.

I spent some time with them today, at a hotel somewhere in the middle of the city. I could barely manage the time, because there are loads of work that still needs to be done.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm the only concerned about work. But that's another story, for a tell-all book that would wrap up this trilogy I have inside my head.


I took leave for today and Monday, in the hopes of recalibrating my workload and regroup, mentally. These past six months have been wrought with constant change, just not in the way I want.

My family being here is also putting my stress levels through the roof. I find no enjoyment from family. I don't believe families are necessary and I find it hard to understand why humans want to imitate viruses.

I had an argument with a teacher, once, about the polural form of viruses. She said it was virii, and I said it was viruses because going by her logic, it would mean that the plural for buses would be bi, throwing the meaning of the word bisexual as someone who likes to fuck buses.

Coming from a family of teachers, I know about the Malaysian Education System more than the average Malaysia. I found out that we are adopting the failed American system, with none of the things that work.

Nowadays, students are assigned 'bands' which are skill sets. You progress by showing you can fulfill certain skills as defined by 'bands'.

The problem is, some schools might lie, saying "Oh yes, our students can read Shakespeare or Shaxbird or some shit." when in reality, those kids might not even be able to spell 'chicken' as anything other than 'KFC'.

At its heart, the band system should wean students off the convoluted and outdated exam system, the British curriculum, which is Latin for 'chariot horse' because students race to see who scores higher to get into pole position.

I've often believed that those who score in the bottom 2 percent should be shot or chemically castrated, so as not to spoil the gene pool with such inferior minds. I deal with idiocy everyday, especially at queues because some monkeys have yet to learn that society and the social contract breaks down when you become selfish and a burden to others.

I have refused to allow idiots get in my way, but I am sensing that even our top people enable idiocy so as to ensure political victory.

I have no faith in the future, with the economy, education and society developing as it is. I also find Malaysians turning into a spoiled, namby-pamby nation of howler monkeys. But that's just me, the old man, the last dinosaur.

I hope, in the next few months, to secure a change of environment because I feel the current one has become mean-spirited, cold and bleak.

Whatever

As a high-level functioning sociopath, I am not surprised at all that I fell into depression, AGAIN.

Being the greatest mind of the 21st Century means I am well aware of everything, including - especially - the bad stuff. I understand the evil that lurks in the hearts of men. Like The Shadow.

Once, years ago, I made a wish that I would understand people. That wish was granted, and like Martian Manhunter, I was overwhelmed by the erratic, dark thoughts of humans.

Depression impairs my ability to write and I find myself falling behind writing deadlines. However, while my work in creative projects suffer, depression also pushes my mind into other parts of problem-solving.

I see now what I must do to solve one of my outstanding issues - how to get RM2 million and retire quickly before I become one of them. One of the lifers. Before I lose all interest in creating things and just maintain stuff. Before I get swallowed by the machine.

Most people don't understand that the only thing I have ever wanted to do was and is to write. I tolerate other things so that I can afford to. Writing is not that profitable here in this country, and writers often have to take on day jobs so they could write what they like during their free time.

Trust-fund babies and rich people don't count. It's the swamp-rats like me who have pushed and pushed so that we could find some time to practice our craft. And not starve doing it.

I once tried to get some writers together so we could form a union like the Screenwriters Guild of America. However, only three people showed up. None of us wanted to sacrifice our time from writing to do the necessary evil of organising everyone into one strong and solid hammer.

Everyone works in solitude, and every writer stands alone. Forever and always.

Oh well.

I know of several endings to the path I walk, and I have enough balls to inch my way ever so closer to my goal - freedom from money and financial bondage so I could write whatever the fuck I want, whenever I want to, however I want to do it.

And for the first time in personal history, I'm doing this entirely for myself.

Drama! Komm, Susser Tod

Readings Somewhere in CM

Tonight, I went for the KL launch of Readings from Readings 2 - a short story compilation of some pieces read at the Readings series which is now being held at Seksan's.

Seksan's is a gallery of sorts somewhere near Lucky Garden, Bangsar. I would suggest Special Branch officers to go there and spy on rogue elements of society and what they do - read and write, mostly, with the occasional poet rhyming now and then.

My piece, Scenes of the Father - perhaps the only piece I ever read in the event series - is included in the collection. I wrote it because I - as always - foolishly said yes to anything ever offered to me, except drugs and anal sex.

The piece is about growing up with my weird family. All families and everyone is weird, but I guess my childhood can be a bit strange, at times.

Anyway, I went there with my sister and read a sample of the piece. I found myself  surprisingly nervous, even amidst a crowd who mostly have read my writing and haven't thrown any rotten eggs at me so far.

Three girls even came up to me at the end, and I told them to add me on Facebook.

Now I'm back home, too tired to do more. And tomorrow is another day, filled with twists and turns in the corporate world I'm living in right now.

One day, maybe next year, I will finish my novel, hopefully novels. One of them, I plan to write in the style I did with the piece in the collection.

For now, it's back to my day job and my commitments on some creative outside projects.

I think I'd need to take some days off, after I delegate a lot of the stuff I am taking care of personally.

Just Wanking

Next year, I will celebrate the 10th year anniversary of working. It has been 10 years? Really? That long?

Next May or June, it would be 10 years since my first story was published in the newspapers. The first one was the cover of Nuance.

The only thing I have spent more time on was my primary and secondary education, which lasted 11 years.

The 9-year journey has been filled with adapting and applying myself to new and unheard of things. One of my old editors told me that all the basic skills of journalism can be used to do anything. To learn and master anything.

When you take on a job, what is the first thing you need? Knowledge and skills. Skills, come from practice. It comes later. Knowledge, you would definitely need.

You acquire knowledge from information. If you don't have information, you need to get it. That's what journalists do - we get information. This is how I found myself moving from the swamp, to running a magazine, sections in a newspaper and then on to new media.

I am currently traversing the frontiers of the digital age, all the while honing my people skills - definitely my biggest weakness in my 20s. I was a robot, most of the time. I knew I had a huge capacity for emotion, which scared me.

I was too intense, and that intensity could burn through anything. Running away from it is not a solution, though. I needed to be okay with it. I needed to ride it and make sure I control it, and not the other way around.

Oh well. I just have one goal now - to retire. To be able to afford retirement, which would cost me RM2 million at the very least.

The only way I believe this would happen is if I get on the New York Times best-seller list. This is not an impossible notion, as I am confident of my writing. I just need the time to apply myself.

Right now, I am swamped with deadlines - mine and other people's - that I can't even take two days off to sleep properly. But the time will come. It's a marathon, not a sprint, and pacing myself now will pay dividends later on.

I see things from many different angles, and I try to keep myself a few steps ahead. I already know most of the outcome of this week. If I'm wrong, I'll be pleasantly surprised. Such is the advantage of being a pessimist - though I must say I also ensure it doesn't get to me.

Some things will be published or launched this week. SO wait, also, for the good news.

For honour! And vagina!

Executioner's Song

Some people asked me about my depression.

The depression I had a few weeks ago. I can tell you that I've been dealing with depression since I was 17 years old, when I discovered the shit lying underneath a world I believed to be pure. Also since that was the age I truly understood my parents were poor.

I deal with it by acknowledging the damned thing. I am usually depressed, my outlook on life is primarily negative. Do I let it affect my work? Whenever I do, I just slap myself and get back on track. Cause nobody - not even me - messes with my work. I don't take myself seriously - I'm a walking parody of myself - but I do take work seriously.

I've been trained by three legendary journalists whom I suspect are also deranged in some way. Their key message was - take care of your work, and your work will take care of you. Everything else - humans, emotions, climate change, Obama, are all unnecessary and superfluous.

In fact, if you cock your head and listen very carefully, you will hear the sound of me not giving a fuck.

Anyway, one of the projects I was attached to bagged another award at WAN-INFRA. It's Bronze for cross-media editorial coverage. This is the second award we bagged this year, after also winning Bronze for Best Online Driver at Marketing Awards last week.

It's nice to have your efforts recognised, but my sight is focused purely on the tasks at hand. You are only as good as your last story, so you are only as good as your last project.

I'm deciding to let go of a lot of outside writing projects so I could focus more on work. There are some things I will do for fun, and to wank my creative dick, but I will target my intensity on the work at hand. I don't give a shit.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I got two reports to file. No power in the universe can stop me now.

Digital Media Asia KL

I went to a seminar organised by WAN-INFRA today. WAN-INFRA stands for World Association of Newspapers and News Publishers.

There were many speakers, one of them being a guy from a pharmacy who spoke of harnessing social media for journalism. He also said something significant.

"It is significant," he said.

He also said that with or without journalists today, the news will keep on churning tomorrow.

Finally. A real journalist talking about the work and news as work.

When I did my second tour of duty at The Malay Mail in 2009, my first mission was to set up a system where things would go on with or without me. The reason is simple - I want to go to Thailand a lot. If I couldn't establish a system where the pages - the news - would run whether I'm there or not, I wouldn't be able to fuck off to Thailand as much. Or at all.

Ah, The Malay Mail. I loved that paper. But I don't think I could work there again. It's too personal. Every spelling mistake, every gaffe, was s slap in my face. It was a product that was too close to me. I need to be a complete professional in order to be able to make hard decisions and a certain distance is key.

Funny. AT one time, I would have died for that paper. There was a time I thought I would grow up to be the late Mr Lim Chang Moh, who had a horrible, horrible combover.

I thought I'd grow up to be a sub. But here I am, still  8 years old, relying on skills and knowledge I gleaned from porn.

A late bloomer, and a poor swamp kid, I first went online in 1996, in search of cartoon porn. In serach of Sizuka from Doraemon, in the nude. I knew the Doraemon comics we got here were censored and censorship drove me crazy back then.

I began observing the people who live on the Internet. The stalking gay people, the righteous fuckers who try to pick fights with everyone to prove their superiority and the porn connoisseurs such as myself.

I was really great at searching and indexing porn. Mostly hentai, scenes from classics such as La Blue Girl and Urotsukidouji broken up into 2-minute clips which would take me 3-4 hours to download, on a 14.4kbps dial-up modem.

I've always viewed the Internet as the last bastion for stupidity, for chaos, for freedom, in this increasingly crazy world.

But now it is what it is, coloured - peppered - by so many things.

I only wished that The Malay Mail had made the transition as they should, way back in 2009. But just in case the paper dies during my lifetime, I already have a headline for a final article - Stop the Presses (For the Very Last Time).

That one is the title of a great article in Reader's Digest way back in the '70s, about the death of the newspaper.

The Wan Infra seminar speakers are not predicting the death of newspapers, but the change of journalism as we know it. It's been happening all this time, and we are just riding on the crux of change.

The Mis-Education of Amir Hafizi

I spent some time with someone - a Malaysian - who went through the American Education System. We were, of course, discussing the Malaysian Education System Super-Saiya (MESSS).

My whole family is in education. They are either teachers or in the education department, making and implementing policies for education.

Growing up was also tough as my father stressed on education. I grew up under the impression that if I get a B, I will be roasted alive and eaten. I never got a B until I went to high school, which was essentially prison because it was an all-boys' school.

It wasn't the run-of-the-mill all boys' school either. It had stuff you only find in prison. That kind of shit.

And then I was in UM - Universiti Malaya - or Malaysia's best university. I remember thinking, if this is the BEST university in Malaysia, all the other colleges and unis combined would have the educational value of a dog kennel.

Our education system is extremely bad. As a product of that same system, I risk devaluing myself, but the truth is the truth.

The focus of our education system is not about learning. It's about how to beat the system. Our MESSS is set up to train our kids, our young, not to be book-smart, but street-smart.

All throughout my education, I felt like I was growing up in the Bronx, that I was black and I was just an inch away from getting the police shooting me up in a bust or something.

I thought I could do something about it, so I went and became a lecturer for a while. What I experienced was a self-governing, self-destroying and self-feeding system akin to the Ouroborous - the serpent who eats its own tail.

The pressure is not for kids to acquire knowledge or skills, but to pass exams. Heard that before? Yeah, but have you realised that this constant message over decades has seeped through to the kids as well? They have learned the system, our system, the MESSS, and they just want the certificate.

Put aside the politics and hear me out. I believe that our education system, our MESSS, is a symptom of our delusion as a society and as a nation.

We are NOT a first-world country. We are NOT a developed nation. Most of our stuff are not that good. I mean, what do we have? Industry? China beats us. Cheap labour? China, Indonesia, Vietnam, Cambodia, even Thailand can throw a million people a day, each with a degree, earning RM1 per month before we can even say skilled labourers.

Political stability? Thanks, assholes.

Culture? We have an education system designed to snuff out any interest in the so-called arts. That's why people who end up in the 'art industry' are usually those who failed early on in life. I'm not saying they're bad or stupid. I'm just saying that our MESSS sabotage the arts for decades by painting it as a sub-par bullshit thing. And it's still doing it.

My batch was the first one in high school without an arts stream, without even a social science stream. ALL of us were in the science stream. Why? Because the Government wanted us to become engineers and doctors because engineers and doctors make lots of money.

Here's a secret, kids - NOT ALL DOCTORS AND ENGINEERS MAKE LOTS OF MONEY. I got a whole bunch of friends who are doctors, lawyers and engineers, and they're not rich.

Oh, by the way? Rich is either having RM2 million cash, or making RM20,000 a month. Below that, you're poor. Below RM3,000, you're like, crazy poor or some shit. That's not me talking - that's the statistics and how they brand you. Except for the RM20,000 part. That's just me.

Okay, so MESSS kills art every year. We focus on science, right? So we must have the best technologists and innovators in the world, right? Malaysians must be inventing shit like robots and dildos that transform into robots and shit, right?

No.

I have never heard of a Malaysian inventing anything significant. A few years ago, maybe more, there was a guy who could start his car with his watch. His name was Zul something. Saw him on Berita TV3. Where is that guy? Did Knight Industries hook him up?

All that focus on science, and we don't even have inventors and scientists who could invent something as shitty as an exercise machine made from bamboo that they can sell on shopping networks?

I'm a huge, huge Dr M fan, but I believe his policy of forcing or cajoling (forcing) kids to take up science stream courses in college was and is a recipe for disaster.

I believe that while Singapore is worried that their Gen-Y are a bunch of whiny, lazy assholes, Malaysia is squandering our youth as we have always squandered them before.

Why? Because we're delusional. Saying everything is okay and sleeping on it is Pak Lah's ostrich policy. I believe we must acknowledge that our MESSS is a mess and then work towards improving it.

Admitti8ng you have a problem is the first step towards fixing it. I don't think it's a lost cause at all. I don't think ALL Malaysians are stupid. I don't think the country is crappy. I just believe that it can be improved.

And it's not on the shoulders of BN, because I believe BN and the Government have consistently failed for the past 55 years to improve the quality of our human capital.

I also believe that PR is even worse because they are exactly the same fuck-ups with the same attitudes as BN, but pretending to be holier-than-thou.

I believe it is all up to us to change society. How? If I knew, I'd say it already. But since we're all science stream majors, doctors, engineers and shit, we should be able to come up with a solution, right?

JUst a word of advice - if you have kids, send them overseas for schooling. If you plan to have kids, make sure you have enough money for that. If you have kids NOW, today, you would need a million bucks, 20 years from now, for a basic degree programme in Australia.

Working Through Depression

I've been handling depression since I was 17 years old. Most people don't even understand what that is, especially those who pretend to be chirpy all day, every day.

And I hate these fuckers who pretend to be depressed because they think it's cool to be in pain. Dumbass pretentious fucks.

I can tell you depression is real. I was hospitalised four times for stress-related illnesses. I even thought I went deaf at one point or whatever. Got kidney stones, sleep apnea which required surgery. I even had insomnia for three years.

My doctors told me if I didn't change my lifestyle, I was going to die before I'm 40. Hypertension, that dumb sleep apnea, the lack of sleep and long hours were going to kill me, and not in a way I like.

So I researched the shit out of this shit. I learned meditation and breathing techniques. I got all New Age and shit. I lowered my blood pressure to 120. Changed my diet and shit.

Even while going through depression, I still needed to do work. Recently, I executed and hung on for dear life while going through severe stress.

How do I do it? I'm a fucking genius, that's how.

Seriously, though, it was having a clear grasp of The Truth. The reality. People can say or do whatever. They can try to do bad things to you, but realise that these people, do not matter. Focus is essential.

What matters is your work, your tasks and taking care of your self because without you, your tasks are fucked.

I worked and am working in a high-stress environment. Morale is extremely important. It is the thing that determines how good a job is. Morale can't be brought up with a simple gesture or just getting drunk at a silly party.

Work morale is increased when workers like me can accomplish tasks and missions we set out to do. When we complete a thing. Whenever this is accomplished, regardless of whatever happens and whatever other people say or do, morale will be up.

Take care of your work, and your work will take care of you - this is the philosophy and mindset of real workers. Only the weak play politics. Playing politics means you are not good enough and you know you are not good enough for anything other than menial labour.

They see politics as  a short cut - an easy way to bullshit and con their way to more money and feigned respect. I can tell you there is no such thing as an easy way forward. Those fuckers who used politics to get ahead - none of them I can say are, were or ever will be happy, regardless of the money they have stolen and cheated out of people.

Come crunch time, you can't bullshit your way out of delivering the goods on your word. Integrity is the ONLY currency that never gets devalued. It's the only thing you have that is valuable. It is the final inch, that distance where you draw the line.

I have huge respect  for people who respect their own work.

For me, I am on an infinite learning journey. Whatever I suck at, a few years later I will be an expert at it. Writing was my weakest subject, when I was 13. I hated people and was a failure in human communication at 23.

I worked at every single one of these things, not to prove people wrong, or to be given empty praise. I do it, because I like doing it. I want to do it. And unless you want to do something, there is really no reason to do it.

I went through the motions, and I took control - of myself. I went there and I did what I promised to do, to ensure I still retain my integrity, my final inch. Come rain or high water. Or depression

This weekend, I owe some people four scripts. Four episodes of this TV series I am working on. Only God can stop me from finishing them.

Tales from the Drunk Side: Crossroads

I am rather lugubrious at the moment.

Been out drinking with friends, which is not something I can say often these days.

I mean, most of my drinking buddies and my friends in general have left the country. Fucking upped and left.

Now, most of what's left are drug addicts and tea drinkers. Most. The Resistance lives on.

I been thinking - maybe I should go and fucking leave the fucking country. But I don't hate Malaysia. I am already comfortable here. I got my game on, I know how things work, and I understand the people. I could empathise with them, you know? Cause I'm a fucking Pisces and shit.

The only way I would leave is if I'm offered to do something that could either save the world, or fulfill my artistic needs.

Fancy term, artistic needs. But it is what it is. I got deadlines this weekend. I got shit I need to do, and I control everything with that. Only way to work, brosephs.

When you know every single moving, flapping thing, your work can finally reach the potential it can achieve.

Otherwise, it's just bullshit.

But, you know, persevere. It's a marathon, not a sprint, except in places where you have to sprint. My team won the bronze award at an international marketing thing tonight. And the company I work for won gold. Number one. Best in the world

I can tell you that we are the best in the world. And when you're the best, you're a moving target. You got a target on your back. But never let that affect you. Fuck that shit, man. I know shit. I know everything.

I'm so fucking smart, man. The greatest mind of the 21st Century.

Who couldn't pick up the fucking lighter for the past five minutes.

I see what's going on. I do what I can, as a superhero, to make everything better. I'm still a fucking superhero, trying to help whenever I can. What the fuck? I mean, I should just go and fucking score all the money and pussy I could get, right? But noooo. Altruistic and self-sacrificing. That's me. I'm a saint. An angel, man. I mean, like, what the fuck.

If I was selfish, I'd be a politician and take ALL your money. All of it. But I'm honest and hardworking and shit. That's my curse. I'll always be fair and neutral and one with the universe and shit.

I AM the greatest, aren't I?

Took care of my ego years ago. I can be frighteniongly professional and shit. And not because I'm ambitious. It's simply because that's who I am. I don't give a fuck about bullshit image. Look at my clothes. ALL of my shirts are more than five years old.

I'm so fucking great and shit. You kinow? What the fuck?

Just Fuck It

There are things we can control, and there are things we can't. Worrying about things beyond our control could land us in despair.

But seriously, ask yourself - what is really beyond our control? You can always refuse to be a victim of whatever.


I lay on my bed just now, and suddenly, I feel the old energy again. Been a long day, but suddenly I am not tired.

I guess light comes when it is darkest or whatever.

Been walking around for the past few weeks with dread hanging over me. That feeling of dread is gone. In its place, a sense of purpose. I am ready to lose everything, and therefore I am ready to do anything.

Time is a resource, and time is a barrier. It is an issue, like money, but fuck it. Just, fuck it.

I was raised by television. By cartoon shows that teach me, to just fuck it. If you have a pet dinosaur, you go skateboarding with it. If a green-haired personification of the planet is living inside your ring, you try to make out with the hot Russian chick.

This is what happens when you hit depression's rock bottom. You either go kill yourself, or stand tall and you fucking walk.

Fuck you. Fuck all of you who ever think I'm stupid or can be manipulated into anything. I am politicians' worst nightmare because I can't be bought, and I believe in the truth.

I have like, Abraham Lincoln for a penis.

I've always been afraid of my intensity, because I have seen how it burns through everything, but I think it is also a very useful tool to get things done. Rather than mope around and shit, I should go out there and just fuck it.

Do not fuck with me. Unless you're Thai. Or Natalie Portman or something.

THe Miserable Adventures of Boron - World's Most Boring Man

This weekend, I went to the office and got some more work done. I don't know whether it will be enough, though, because honestly I am now handling my own personal shit. I don't know how next week will unfold and how I will feel at the end of it.

Depression is a quagmire that is tricky to navigate and go through. I understand that nothing lasts forever, not even this shitty feeling, not even the company, not even the country or this world. One day, the sun will expand and burn the earth, and then everything here on this planet dies, if they had not already by then.

My energy is depleted, and I begin spending more time sleeping. The short bursts of delirious energy I experienced throughout the middle of this year is gone. I feel miserable almost every day and it is time I do something about it.

Funny, when  I was younger, I had emo friends who wanted so much to feel the pain of whatever. Dumbass motherfuckers did not know what they were asking for.

Depression has physical and psychological components. You need to address both in order to do anything about it.

Ah, fuck it. I think I'll just go get some sleep rather than talk about it. Not much I can do at this stage.

Ambi-Dexter-ous

This has been a mixed year, mostly crappy and I found myself for the past few weeks in the cold, dark grips of depression. Again.

People like me are prone to depression. I was born in the spring, which statistically means I would be 17% more likely to have negative thoughts.

I am also highly intelligent, with IQ tests putting me way above monkeys and gibbons. Smarter people tend to get more depressed, easily, because we understand and see everything.

Furthermore, since I already have Omega-level genius, I have been working on my EQ for the past nine years. I am so empathic that I can read minds. The problem is, I also understand the pain and suffering of others, and that leads to me detecting that I am surrounded by animals.

Animals, to me, are humans who want to be miserable. They are pain-worshippers and use it as a currency of sorts.

This is why I love Thailand. Despite the fact that the hookers have to suck dick to get food, they don't suck. They generally have a more cheerful outlook on life. Whenever I go to Thailand, I always restore my faith in humanity.

Depression is not something you can snap out of. I should know. I've been depressed since I was 17. It's also not a cry for attention or some other annoying shit. It's scientific and clinically proven.

Whenever I'm depressed, I have no energy. I would always feel depleted, and I would start getting migraines. My blood pressure would go up and my sleep would usually be without dreams, which compounds the problem.

The brain produces serotonin. Actually, the brain and the stomach produces different types of serotonin. Serotonin is like midi-chlorians, but for happiness instead of the Force. It is a clear indication of your happiness.

Talking about chemicals, the brain tells you you are happy if you get lots of dopamine or dopamine-like things that fit into the dopamine receptors on the neurons. Most drugs provide this function, and when some people are depressed, their body secretes this dopamine-blocker that prevents any dopamine from cheering you up.

Since I am on a two-year diet, I don't even get pleasure from stuffing my face with comfort food suck as fast-food fried chicken or durian.

I wish I could tell you that I have depression beat, or there is a miracle drug that can fix it. There are some, but the chemical imbalance and dependence would eventually result in even worse and even more dangerous situations. Xanax or Prozac withdrawals have been known to be the cause of some suicides.

I also wish that I could prescribe a religion for depression, but most religions are depressing.

What has worked for me is meditation. I meditate and I accept the chaos I am in, the kind of shit people throw my way. Thailand works for me. I go to Thailand and I take a step back and see the world and realise what's important (my self, my work) and what's not important (humans and other apes).

Sometimes, though, I do feel murderous. I feel like murder, and a red haze is on everything. I just want to kill, maim and wound. I do plan scenarios inside my head, and it can get pretty creative. Which is an outlet, I must say.

I dunno.

I wake up every day, and being the smartest man on earth, I deal with it every day. The anger, the frustration. I guess I am a high-level functioning sociopath and women should suck my dick.

The Hangover

I woke up feeling shitty but a bit better.

Despite all the ego and sabotage over the course of nine years working in this industry, I'm still standing here, saying fuck the free world.

Everywhere I go, it's the same ego, stupidity, jealousy. I'll never be free until I score RM2 million and go back home, to Kuantan, in a mission to save the world.

I know the village folk back home - the swamp people - are also egotistical, some are stupid, and some are also equally insecure, but at least they're poor - perhaps because of their ego - and they need the most help.

When I go back, and if I can just make the lives of 10-15% of them better, I would consider my efforts a success.

What I want to do is imitate the biggest co-op in the world, in India, which collects and redistributes fresh milk from all families that have a cow. The people in my village have nothing - no education, no proper jobs, no opportunities - save for land and time.

Ours is swamp land. It's perfect for planting several different types of fruits, and the easiest is papaya. Just stick 'em near a drain and the papaya tree will flourish. Fuck pesticides and shit. The only thing they have to do is protect the fruit from bats, birds and some types of bugs.

If I can convince them to plant some particular types of papayas, the business model would be all set. I'll handle the marketing, logistics and sales.

Papaya is great because it is present in almost all hotels in Malaysia. Go to any one, and they might not have durian, while some have watermelon. But papaya is always there.

Instead of selling at wet markets for pittance per kilo, these people should take only the best fruits and sell them to hotels and high end restaurants, which Kuantan has in abundance.

It's 30% more effort for an increase of 50% in profit margins, more or less. If we can do it right, we can supply to the entire east coast.

While they plant and take care of the papaya, they can also rear free-range chicken. Free range chicken require space, and that is one of their only assets. Free-range eggs, free-range chicken fetch a high price, and if we can go with the economics of scale, it can grow big enough to ensure city folk have 'ayam kampung' on their menu instead of the battery farm chicken.

I've seen this happen in Indonesia. ALL the chicken I ate in Bandung and Jakarta were free-range chicken. How do they get that kind of supply? From small, independent farmers.

Of course, things can get fucked. That's why I need the RM2 million to be financially invincible. No matter what happens, short of cancer, I can still be free and not rely on managing a gaggle of highly emotional, self-destructive people.

The Government have tried to come up with solutions for these poor folk, but they themselves sabotaged the Government efforts, due to one of the most pure demonstrations of the ego I have ever seen. You see, for some people, if they receive any help, they will hate those who help them. They believe that receiving help makes other people look good and makes them look stupid. Indebted to those who help them.

The ego is not simply owned by the city folk, with their fancy lattes and fancy cars. It also exists in poor people, and I have seen the pure destructive power it brings.

The ego compels people to do stupid things. It compels them to do evil, due to their insecurities and poisoned mind. I have seen them all. I know what I'm up against, and if I take a confrontational stand, it will only serve to get the ego bigger.

No matter what the religion - Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, (fake) Malaysian Buddhism, liberalism, education - everyone has failed to understand their own faiths and beliefs, which all shout a united chorus of setting aside such stupid things as the ego.

Unfortunately, we live in a world of idiots who are trapped with defining their self-image when that is a fool's errand.

Sometimes I wish I would be run over by a car and just die, because existing with these dumbass motherfuckers is worse than being eaten by worms.

Empathy, Compassion and Thai Prostitutes

Hi, kids! Today's lesson is about compassion and empathy.
There is sadly no Bahasa Malaysia word for empathy. The Kamus Dewan Inggeris Melayu lists empathy as 'empati'. Meanwhile, compassion is merely listed as 'belas kasihan', which is a totally different thing.

Meanwhile, the Chinese word for it is 'Ci bei (see bay)' which seems like 'cibai' or vagina.

Is this why Malaysians are so heartless?

I dunno.

What I do know are Thai prostitutes. I love talking to Thai prostitutes as I find them smarter and more pleasant than the average Malaysian. Most of this boils down to high EQ demonstrated with an abundance of compassion and empathy.

Thai prostitutes also demonstrate a lot of social or communal perspective.

I often goaded and prodded them into talking about their country and how to make it better. A social experiment, you see.

A lot of them say, "In order for Thailand to become a developed nation, I hope prices of food would go up."

I was perplexed. Isn't one dollar for a gallon of soda the hallmark of a well-developed country? Isn't obesity the sign of a prosperous people?

The Thai Prostitutes then explained to me that they are the daughters of poor Thai farmers. And yet they sell their bodies to mostly farmers from France, Germany, the UK, Australia and other countries.

"Why is it that farmers in Europe make so much more money than farmers in Thailand?"

These Thai hookers are so much aware of their society, that I sometimes feel ashamed. They have empathy and compassion. When I talk to most Malaysians about these things, they either don't understand the meaning of the words, laugh at me because I was being 'uncool', or simply go climb back up a tree and start flinging shit all over the place.

NEXT: How political bullshitters lobby for your support

Chicken Little

Recently, a member of my team on one of my hobby projects who was supposed to deliver something simply ran away and never delivered on her promise.

She didn't answer any queries on any media platform I asked, and she is also incommunicado with every other person involved with the project.

I was pissed off for about half an hour. Really pissed off. I wanted to do all I can to ruin her life and her career. I plotted and planned and came up with really gruesome scenarios. I really am more suited for destruction.

But then I thought, let he who is without sin cast the first stone. I blew a deadline, once. It was the only one time I ever fucked up a job so bad, I had to drop it.

As a result, I lost RM78,000 in opportunities, and my honour as well as integrity was tarnished. I went into depression. Again.

But I never ran away. Despite all my problems then, personal and professional, financial.. I was there all the way. Because running away does not and will not solve any problems - just makes it bigger, more bad-ass, until it eats at your soul.

I know that when faced with insurmountable odds, or a problem too big, the meek side of humans - including mine, if I have any - will wish for things to go away. For some giant hand to come down from the skies and make it all better. From experience: Not gonna happen.

I mean, I'm not an atheist, but I live like one. I don't make God my bitch and ask him to do shit for me. No religion - not even The Secret - tells anyone to sit on their ass and make excuses not to do anything all day, every day.

Even if you hate your job - you can always quit, but you need to give your employers plenty of notice, so that everything won't turn to shit. One person I know - another person - just upped and left another unrelated project, giving a one-day notice.

I find that highly irresponsible and disloyal.

This is also why I refuse to lie. I'm a simple person, perhaps a simpleton, and I just hate cleaning up messy stuff. I believe lying is messy, because it needs to be staged right and the pretense has to be kept up for years on end. It's extremely tiring. And annoying.

In this recent case, at least no money was involved, just that a broken promise leads to other broken promises and as usual, I have to clean up the shit afterwards. Well, no use lamenting over it. I know better now and I hope everyone involved walks away wiser from this bullshit.

Malaysia has an abundance of talent, but integrity and honour are only demonstrated by a few.

Loyalty and Responsibility

This week, we celebrate Deepavali, the festival of lights or as my friend Sunder puts it, 'the Indian Christmas'.

The light element also represents, to me, something-something enlightenment something-something. This week, it is about loyalty and responsibility. And it has nothing to do with Maxis, which I am happy to report has contacted me and SEEMS willing to find an amicable solution to our little stand-off.

I will take on some responsibility issues concerning loyalty this week, and I do hope all parties involved will walk away from it a bit wiser.

A lot of people do stupid things, while it is the tactic of evil people to goad and prod people into making stupid mistakes. Stupidity is a tool, a weapon. And at the core of stupidity is the ego.

I have long been in this world - too long - that I sometimes tire of the little schemes and machinations that endlessly repeat itself. When I was younger, I found it beautiful because it is a repeating fractal, and I am a pattern recogniser.

Nowadays, I see things - I see everything, really - and I am just bored. It's the same people, doing the same things, though with different names and wearing a million different faces.

Oh well. I have a neckache to tend to. I think I'll get nsome sleep later. In the meantime, surprise me, you filthy bastards. Surprise me. I dare you. I double dare you.

Unified Under Stupidity

I have been cursing TM Unifi for a full two years now. Every week, the bloody thing has given me a new, unique problem. That's 104 unique problems.

I cursed and swore at them so much, I felt sorry for everyone working at TM. It's nothing personal, and I wasn't trying to be mean. The fibre optics network that TM has laid out, and the Government is paying RM11 billion for, is extremely unstable.

Maxis bought a lot of those trunk lines, as reported in the papers, and then they launched Maxis Home Fibre.

After getting sick of cursing Unifi every single day, I thought I'd give them a break and install Maxis Home Fibre instead. I know it's the same thing, but maybe, driven by money, Maxis MIGHT provide a better service? I dunno. I try out these things so I could tell people how crappy or how great they are.

I have not cancelled my Unifi account, just in case.

The techs came yesterday, and after a flurry of activity, I was online on the 10mbps line.

So I bid the techs adieu and went about doing my regular stuff. Six minutes later, ALL the problems I ever faced while using Unifi for the past two years started surfacing.

So I called Maxis and - AFTER TELLING ME TO RESET THE ROUTER WHICH REQUIRES A TECH PERSON TO RESOLVE - they told me it would take a week to send a tech person to my place. "Two working days," he said, which in real time means 2 months.

I kicked up a tantrum and started yelling rape, so they sent a tech to my house today. After he fiddled with it, I could have access to Maxis Home Fibre again. SO I bid him adieu, and 15 minutes after he left, the same problems surfaced again.

I tweeted to @MaxisListens and asked if I could just terminate my contract since Maxis is not providing me what they promised anyway, and it has only been 48 hours, with me being online for only 20 minutes during that whole time period.

They said no can do. Basically, they're telling me, "Hah! We got your money, bitch!"

Well, all I can say to them is this:

"I know who you are. I know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let me go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will do daily reports of how you and your product sucks. Every day, every hour, for the rest of my life, until the day I die." - Liam Neeson, Taken

The kind of damage that can be done is significant. Already, I have made up my mind to  find other mobile carriers after my contract with Maxis has ended. I am also prepared to document every single  thing wrong with Maxis Home Fibre and the Maxis 012 line, which I have used for 13 years, over three phone numbers.

This will go on every hour, every single day, for the rest of my natural life, until the day I die. Or until the day they see some sense and let me off the contract I never signed physically, but just agreed to verbally over the phone, without realising what kind of shitty product Maxis Home Fibre really is.

Well, they also don't know what kind of shitty customer I can be.

I think the best resolution is for me to go back to using Unifi, which is what I'm doing now. Thank God I haven't cancelled it. I know most of the problems already, after 2 years of dealing with hell. I should also get a Microsoft or Cisco networking certificate since I can now configure TM and Maxis Home Fibre - which is what you need if you want to get broadband in this country.

As a consumer, a citizen and registered voter, I believe The Malaysian Government has been conned of RM11 billion to set up an extremely unstable fibre optics network, which is now being sold by TM, Maxis and other whatever. And it is in my opinion that Maxis' and TM's respective contracts for 2 years is extremely draconian and victimises users.

I believe that in the race for profit and the short-term bottom-line, companies such as Maxis are losing the long-term perspective of their business model. I have been their loyal customer under various accounts for 13 years, since I got my first mobile phone. This incident is likely to get me to swear off any of their products for the rest of my life. I will also tell my friends and family members never to use any of their products because that is all I can do, short from reporting the sheer crappiness of Maxis Home Fibre to the consumer tribunal, which is something I am thinking about.

Of course, no one is forced to follow what I tell them. What do I look like, Maxis?

I would suggest, in my own opinion, that no one registers for any broadband service in Malaysia using the same shitty fibre optics network until such a time when they have ironed out all the problems and issues, which could take between 50-500 years.

In the meantime, I believe such countries as Thailand, Ghana, Zimbabwe and Sudan have way better broadband Internet connection because I keep losing to them in online games due to my shitty 'broadband' connection.

May you fuckers burn in hell.

Man-Woman Interface: Manipulation and Lies

Sometimes, I do get uncomfortable when I talk with people. Yeah, imagine that. And it's different between men and women, when they talk about each other.

Some men love hypnosis shit. The idea is to hypnotise hot chicks to be addicted to your dick. That's the Holy Grail. If it's not hypnosis, then it's some magic technique where you can get girls to be addicted to your dick.

That's pretty straightforward enough, and I don't blame them. Most humans' only purpose in life is to breed, like a virus, and destroy this world with overpopulation and heavy-handed moralising.

You tell this to a girl, right, and her reaction can sometimes be, "Ehermahgerd! That's so manipulative! That's so fake!"

Well, consider these arguments:

1. Even though women shun all things fake and only go for all natural, organic, free-range whatever the fuck, they constantly slather on petroleum by-products on their faces and blame men for it.

2. Even though women 'hates fakery on all levels', they tend to go for the most pretentious of roosters (and by roosters, I mean cocks) who drive expensive cars or 'look cool'.

3. Again, fuck with the fakery, but weddings - more often symbolic than functional - would require spending lots of time, energy and money for pure bullshit - a legal, licensed way to destroy the earth with stupidity.

What I'm saying is that coveting hypnosis as the only means to get some pussy - aside from money - is pretty pathetic enough, those who do say it's manipulative and lying while at the same time incorporating manipulation and lying into the core of their beings is pretty hypocritical.

No, I'm not angry or disgusted. I had 10 years to do that, in my 20s. Now, I just watch it for the comedy.

Towards a More Perfect Confederate

You know what I hate? I hate poseurs. You know what I hate more? Poseurs who fail at posing. Some people claim to be liberal, but they're not. And some people, while following the US election, claim to be oh-so American, but don't even know jack shit about shit.

Never fear! Uncle Amir is here to write what was already in wikipedia anyway. So if you want to be a poseur, pose properly, okay?

Way back in 1990, I saw a PBS telemovie on TV2. It was about the founding of the nation (said nation being the US) and some shit called Amendments, and said amendments' effect on the Constipation.

The title of the movie was "Towards a More Perfect Union". It was about Benjamin Franklin, the founding fathers' equivalent of Thor, and a bunch of unwashed dudes talking about some trade stuff.

Apparently, the British refused to trade with the United States of America because some Spanish dude said, 'Cui Bono?' which is the Spanish commerce philosophy of 'who benefits'? Apparently, trading with the US benefitted dunno who or whatever. The Brits were just spiteful because they just lost the colonies after Mel Gibson and Heath Ledger kicked their asses.

So, reeling from a huge butthurt, the Brits decided not to trade with these Americans.

So Ben Franklin and co decided to amend some documents. This was, before the movie Margin Call, some of the most gripping meeting scenes in TV history.

Ben Franklin was from Virginia, which had loads of people. Then there were other stakeholders like Delaware reps. Delaware had fewer people, but maybe more money or some shit.

The problem was, the big states, with lots of people, wanted popular vote to decide everything. The smaller states wanted proper attention given to them as well, because they're small and shit. So there was a deadlock.

Political maneuvering in that movie made anything Malaysia has ever seen like kindergarten. And I just finished kindergarten four years prior to the movie, so it seemed impressive.

At the end of it, the US came up with the concept of electoral college, senate and congress, etc. It was to ensure no one side or person would have total absolute power or some shit. Ben Franklin said it was as if the US is like a centaur. Half man, half Sarah Jessica Parker.

Electoral college works like this: each state has pre-determined points, for those who failed to pose properly this election year. Win the popular vote in that state, and you get the points, or the electoral vote.

Thus, while popular vote is important, it is possible to win the election while not getting a majority of the votes. This has happened four or five times in US history, the most recent one with the Bush-Gore debacle. Al Gore won the popular vote, but Bush defeated him using the electoral college system.

In Malaysia, we have 222 parliamentary seats and around three, four times that number for State seats. Here's how it works out. The Parliamental Area of Kuantan (one big seat) may have between 2-4 State seats. You vote for two candidates in your state seat area - one for the State rep and one for Member of Parliament.

The state seats determine who gets control of the State Government, while the Parliamentary seat determines who governs the country, or the Federal Government.

In order to win, you need to gain 112 parliamentary seats at least, for a simple majority. No matter what you do, never, EVER give any one party 148 seats. With 148 seats, or 2/3 of Parliament, those politicians can amend the Constitution. Amending the Constitution means they can pass laws like all women will have to give blowjobs. To goats. Every Thursday. And Anwar can stay in the dorm room of certain boys' schools or some shit like that. And that will be a binding law of the highest whatever.

Actually, with just a simple majority, a lot of laws can and have been passed. The 114A, amendment, for example, was passed with just a simple majority.

The Malaysian system is not as open and exciting as the US, or, say, the Taiwanese system which features chair-hurling as a political sport, sometimes.

There are few, if any, effective debates. Once you win, you win forever. Or for the next five years.

I believe the Malaysian election is coming up, like duh. But I predict it will be next year, sometime after Chinese New Year, maybe a month or two.

I have maintained my neutrality all this while, choosing only to make fun of the most comical or undesirable of politicians. I am a registered voter because I hold power over politicians and they can all kiss my ass.

Lord of Destruction

You know, I wanted so much to like PKR politician Nurul Izzah. She comes from my generation, so I thought she could be different.

I mean, fuck her father. In my opinion, Anwar Ibrahim was and is a liar. I waited 14 years for him to open one of his 'boxes upon boxes' of evidence of corruption against the UMNO top brass. I was here, in KL, and I listened during the Reformasi years. I was 18 years of age. And I've waited since then.

14 fucking years. I thought he had something, but all that drama 14 years ago was just so he could stand on stage and call Siti Hasmah bald. That was all. The spiteful drama queen. I've met many people like Anwar since and I understand it is just a mental epidemic. It is a symptom of the bruised ego. I see people like that nowadays, and I just smile, because soon... soon (aheheheh).

I don't even give a shit about Anwar's sexuality or whether he fucks prostitutes. I always think that's between him, God and his family. If he did any of those things, he lied to his family, he lied to his wife. I don't give a flying fuck. It just fits his profile of being a liar, if he did lie to his family.

For some people, lying is acceptable. Not to me. Which is why I have problems with politicians - most or all of whom constantly lies - or politician wannabes who read too many dumbass management books.

In Nurul Izzah, I expected more. My fault, really. I had expectations, despite my understanding of where that ultimately leads - disappointment.

Of all possible issues to bring up, religious freedom is the toughest. If Nurul Izzah were to bring it up properly, if she had stood up for the real deal and not just pussyfooting the whole thing, I believe a lot of Malaysians would back her up, myself included.

I believe in religious freedom. Total religious freedom. I find it embarrassing that we would hold apostates in captivity. I find these acts sabotage the faith, sabotage Islam. It makes Islam look pathetic, makes Muslims look like insecure stupid bullshit artists, and if there's one thing I hate more than evil, it's stupidity.

In a world where perception is almost everything, Islam, Muslims - especially Malaysian Muslims - are losing a global battle. Fuck ideologies, even at a base level, we are doing what the suicide bombers did - make the religion look like some crazy mumbo-jumbo retarded bullshit.

But no. Nurul decided to play politics instead. To play the politician. And a million different monkeys leapt either to her defence, or to condemn her for a stand she cowardly backed out off.

And then she is threatening to sue people. Real original, that move. There are lots of things from America I hate, and a culture of lawsuits is one of them. It is the only way to intimidate people and to curb freedom, to waste time and resources.

What could have been a game-changer, is now just a clumsy denial. Nurul just addressed the huge elephant in the room, and then said she never saw anything. Or heard the cries of those still locked up, perhaps, in Pusat Pemulihan Akhlaks.

I mean, sure, strategically, bringing this shit up could cost PR the election. The next election. GE13. But after that, there is a four year time period where one of a few things could happen:

1. Nurul and PR's fight could spark a valid discussion and get the backing of the people.

2. BN could smell the world changing and also changed their stand to make Malaysia a more liberal country.

3. People could start killing each other in a religious civil war.

If number one or number two happened, with or without number three, it would have been great for our society. I mean, if we say fuck the politics and who is in power, as long as Malaysians get to have more freedom, it would have been a good thing.

However, PR is not willing to put politics behind or beyond them, for the good of the people. I mean, we all know what BN is capable of, but PR has always maintained the higher moral ground posturing. Sadly, in the end, it is just posturing. They are just as fucked up as BN is.

Wake up and look around you. Today, Colorado legalised marijuana. Maine is allowing same-sex marriage. The whole of America will follow. Then, the world will also reconsider its own policies. Within 20-30 years, it would be a very different world indeed.

We always try to future-proof our economy, but what about future-proofing our society? You want to start something, you want to stand for something? This is the time. This is the place.

Ah, well. I said my peace. 

The Final Frontier

Today, the BN cybermonkeys started wailing about PKR MP Nurul Izzah making a statement that allegedly sounded like she was standing up for freedom of religion.

She was reported as saying something about Muslims in this country should be allowed to change their religion, but she also said she was against apostasy.

Regardless of the default Romneying by Nurul Izzah, I was excited. Finally, aside from the economy, education and care for an ageing population, Nurul is bringing up a valid issue that warrants further discussion.

So I asked every Opposition cybermonkey I knew. "Is this true? Is she standing up for freedom of religion? For serious?"

NONE of them - not a single one, not even the rabbit-faced Nizar Jamaluddin who usually pops out like Bugs Bunny now and then, dared to say anything.

Not even the high and almighty Anwar Ibrahim responded.

I understand their silence. As one cockroach conveniently told me, "You know lah. If she says anything about it, she will be screwed by BN."

Yeah, so should just Romney her stand on the issue?

Well, news flash, bitch! Regardless of what you stand on any issue, the other side will screw you for it. I mean, they even pointed out Nurul was wearing a red bra. A RED bra. And? So? Who the fuck gives a shit? Take off the bra and I will give a shit. In the toilet.

I even heard rumours of a Nurul Izzah sextape, which I think is a dumb move by BN. Unless she is fucking someone who is not her husband, and that's when you can play the morality card, there is no strategic advantage of making her a sex symbol. A heterosexual sex symbol.

Dumbass.

But back to religion.

I don't expect politicians to be anything more than gladhandling, pandering baboons, so I'm not really shocked or even the least surprised that instead of addressing the issue properly, Nurul, as with the rest of the simians, decided to try and wank the masses. She, along with ALL other politicians are trying to get people to like them. It's what politicians do. They serve no other function except waste our time and other resources.

Religion, along with Internet freedom, is something close to me. Oh, by the way, FUCK 114A.

I do not believe Islam is stupid, but I have seen many Malaysian Muslims who are. I point my fingers and my dick at the people, whom I believe have sabotaged their own faith. But that's just me.

I mean, they turned Islam into a magic mumbo-jumbo bullshit which is more in line with our original religion - pagan worship. How else can you explain the fixation with black magic and the tendency to use the Al Quran as a book of spells?

I was taught that Islam was a religion of science and enlightenment, of charity and goodwill, not magic and mystery. Fuck that shit.

Is it so hard for Nurul Izzah, or anyone, to say that they believe in religious freedom for all kinds?

I do. I believe everyone should be given a choice to follow any faith, including the dreaded Giant Teapot religion. If Muslims feel so bad about allowing that, then start making Islam look and feel more desirable.

During Muhammad's time, the unique selling point for Islam was the fact that it does not discriminate from master to slave. All are equal under God's judgement. That struck a chord. People followed him, they embraced the religion. Muhammad did not have to throw people into Pusat Pemulihan Akhlaks or harass people into joining his faith. He was not so insecure that a few unbelievers would shake his conviction.

Muhammad was a great general as well as marketeer. He didn't tell people what to do. He was so cool about everything that people asked him to tell them what to do.

Nowadays, I see people, and they try to bribe God. "Oh God, if I pray, will you give me RM2 million?" They try to make God their bitch. "That man fucked me up on Twitter. Now, God, go and fuck his life up. Fetch, God! Fetch! Sick! Sick on him!"

And they try to fool God by sneaking into heaven. "Oh, God. I fucked a bunch of kids. In the ass. But I never ate pork. C+ for me?" Or "I was a black-hearted, spiteful fuck who backstabbed people almost every day. But I went for Friday prayers. C- for meh?"

I find politicians no better than these assholes. Yes, politicians are assholes.

Nurul Izzah had the opportunity to make this a prime issue for the GE13. It may have cost PR the election, but it would have sparked a national debate and discussion on the matter. Sure, a few people would die, but at least we'll get some things moving.

And she is not the only person with the opportunity to say something. All politicians do. You all do. I said my peace. What's yours?

And yeah, FUCK 114A. Hey, Najib, if you lose this election, Anwar will use 114A to fuck everyone so far up the ass, you would be giving birth through your mouth, like Noorkumalasari in Misteri Rumah Tua. Ya dig?

The Dream

This is the last and final ambition I have left. This is what I want to do when I retire.

After collecting RM2 million or more, I will go back to Kuantan and buy a condo unit in Cherating.

I'll pay 29% taxes on my money, leaving me around 1.4 million. I'll invest the one million in unit trusts and bonds as well as stocks. I'll use the 400K to fund my simple lifestyle for the next 4-5 years.

I'll buy a used 4WD. I don't need fancy cars, man. Just something functional.

Every morning, I'll wake up and either do my jujitsu exercises, or I'll go ride a horse. Horse-riding is excellent exercise.

Then I'll go swimming for an hour or so. Breakfast will be various forms of oats. I recently found steel-milled oats - best oats in the world - but they're expensive.

The, I'll go start my 4WD and go to my parents' house. For lunch, as well as to take care of my agricultural projects.

After I am financially free, I want to do something good for the poor folk I grew up with. I'll get them to plant papayas, rear free-range chicken or whatever. Then I'll buy everything from them, handling the marketing and whatever. I'll get my cut, but at least I would be able to supplement their income by 600-1,000 a month.

Maybe I'll plant some exotic stuff on my land - I got a few acres back East. Maybe I'll buy more land and plant, I don't know, coconuts or some shit.

I'll be back at my condo in Cherating by dinner time, and I'd eat oats with some dishes cooked by my mother. Lots of vegetables and loads of water.

Then, I'll go and continue my smithing practice (I'm gonna make samurai swords), jujitsu or piano/dance lessons.

Late at night, I'd be writing. I'd write the shit out of writing. I'd write that great Malaysian novel.

Then, I'd go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Forever and ever. Until the day I die.

The one million will generate at least 500K after five years, allowing me to sustain my lifestyle.

Some weeks, I'd go to KL, to send my manuscript or scripts, pick up cheques or handle a fundraising thing for some charity projects.

Twice or three times a year, I'd go to Thailand.

You see, I don't need much. I just need RM2 million.

I don't have dreams to conquer the world or prove I'm right. I don't need people to tell me I'm right. I KNOW I'm right. Fuck you.

So any of you rich people can send me RM2 million by depositing it into my Maybank account: 114487051142. Name: Amir Hafizi Mohamed Sood.

After you make the deposit, send an email to amirhafizi@gmail.com.

By freeing me from financial shackles, I will make life better for everyone, because helping the poor also means you and your family are less likely to get raped and robbed by desperate people. Less likely. Not a guarantee.

Kool-Aid

I know some friends who say they refuse to pander to the masses, but that's what they do.

I don't care if you're doing business or art, whether you're in the corporate world, artsy fartsy, or plain old soy bean peddler by the street, perhaps even a blind beggar, maybe a politician. You're all subscribing to the almighty brand.

You're selling stuff, by trying to convince people how it will make them be whatever.

For example, I got friends - and some enemies - in both of Malaysia's political camps. You know what they're selling? Not economic stability or growth. They're not selling you the idea of social improvement. Hell no.

You - the masses - never wanted society to improve. You don't want economic stability because if the economy is stable, you have no excuse and nothing to whine about.

So what you want, and what they're selling, is image. Use this product, watch this film or support this candidate, and it will make YOU a ____.

Support the Opposition, and you're a cool leftist Che Guevara. A fighter for the people! That's fucking cool, man! You don't even have to know what Guevara fought for. Or who he killed. Doesn't matter. You're cool and now you will have all the sex. ALL of it.

Support the Government, and you're like, prime material to land a fat Government contract. You're going places. You're a patriot. You're not mainstream like the lefties. You're cool! And with the money, you will buy all the sex. ALL of it.

Man, I fought cool for years. I hated cool. It's so dumb. But that's the world we live in. I shrug and continue to masturbate.

Oh, man. I see how they do it, and I'm like, what? It's the same shit, over and over again. The scary part? It sells. Not cause it works. Nothing makes you anything. It just sells because that's what humans do. That's what they believe in.

Nothing makes you anything. And despite all the quantum physics - which I tend to believe as pseudo-science - perception does not materialise into reality.

The world does not run on magic. It runs on oil, and they just discovered 64 million barrels of it off the shores of Kuantan. That's just RM10 billion or so. But it's enough. For me.

You go take all the cool. I'll take all the money, thanks.

Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?

I hardly, if ever, write about my work. My job. I find it unprofessional to do such things. Most of the time, you wouldn't know where I'm working. I've always separated my presence on new media with my work in old media.

However, I watched the presentation today done by some of the top bosses - one of them comically and in good fun calling himself  'Futureboy' - and a realisation came over me.

"I'm working for a multi-billion dollar company."

I had to sit down for a moment, after that. Alan Moore did the same, when he realised that his daughter had turned eight or 12. So I guess I'd do the same, since I don't think I'll ever have or even want any children.

You see, all I ever wanted was to write, and all of the outfits I worked for - save Astro - were smaller ones.

Sure, The Malay Mail was once part of NSTP, but we were the underdogs, the black sheep. Nobody gave two hoots about us until we started making strides and they killed us and whatever. That's old history, and last I heard, the culprits are quietly sipping beer alone somewhere.

I am more used to being out of the way, free to experiment and execute. I remember Mail Motor, which was manned by one editor and one writer. Entertainment - my desk - had to help out. It was in a time when The Malay Mail had three senior news journalists and four interns, while NST had over 100. So naturally, everyone rallied together under the leadership of our crazy editors.

For Mail Motor, we got celebrities to do 'celebrity drive' where they would drive cars and give feedback on the machines.

I remember thinking, as I took the pictures and wrote the stories, that it was going to be 70% celebrity, and 30% car, which was reflected in the text as well as photos.

That caused a lot of ruckus. Some feminists had some things to say, of course. But the most flattering thing came when other newspapers copied our format. I finally understood what it meant to be a market leader. A trendsetter. Automobile ads were spilling over into lifestyle and entertainment pages. Those were halcyon days, and I remember them fondly.

I left The Malay Mail in 2006. It was 31st August 2006. I woke up one Sunday and thought, "I need to resign tomorrow." And so on Monday, I printed my first resignation letter with no savings, no offers and almost just the clothes on my back.

I have used that same resignation letter at the end of my tenure at a number of different companies, including The Malay Mail again when I left for the second time on February 14, 2011. My leaving the paper I so loved in 2006 had allowed me to go and take a tour of the Malaysian media industry.

I have worked at so many places, yet I believe everywhere is the same. Only the names and faces change.

They always expect nothing from me or my department, and I allow myself sometimes to believe that the teams I have worked with delivered more than what was needed.

It is different now.

My travels have taken me to new media, and I feel like there is a huge burden of expectation hanging over the division I work for, like a sword of Damocles. It is certainly disconcerting, even when I am not being overly melodramatic about the affair. Not altogether unpleasant, but it is a huge responsibility nonetheless.

My old boss - one of them - tried to convince me that I should climb the corporate ladder. I did not tell her that I have no such ambition. I constantly find myself, over the years, holding the bag, as they would call it.

My perhaps rapid succession - I was the youngest editor at The Malay Mail at one point - I suspect had more to do with there being no one else to do it rather than anything else.

Oh, I am grateful, of course. But I have never planned for it, and certainly never asked for more responsibility. My concern lay with the job at hand, and any 'achievement' I have done in my life, I owe to people I work with.

Some people crumble under pressure. I have problems with expectations. I am forever fearful that I would disappoint. But that is egotistical, at the end of the day.

Truth be told, I joined a new media division of the largest newspaper company in the country, because I had megalomania. Yes. Delusions of grandeur.

I have no more ambitions - having seen my name four feet tall on a screen, and feeling no different afterwards - has cured me of any crazy desires somewhat. I know what is important, and it is definitely NOT getting people to be jealous of you or proving people wrong.

My megalomania stems from my superhero complex. I believe that newspapers are dying and journalists as well as content creators would do themselves a favour if they adapt to an ever-changing world.

I thought that if I were to do something in new media, I could - Oh, I don't know - show the way how journalism can move on from selling dead trees. This was to be my love letter to the profession I love.

That was my drive. That was my arrogance.

I know now that the process do not need a catalyst. It is already well in its way. Sooner, or later, and I dare not be so arrogant as to predict when, 90% of media will be soft copy. Perhaps many years after I die, maybe next month. Who knows? The pundits who would have you believe they know are liars and charlatans. False prophets. Because they have all been wrong.

What is left for me is to protect my team. I am the last of the Generation X(born 1980). We are destroyers, not builders. We seek out what is wrong and we kill it.

The future, lies not in our hands - certainly not in my hands - but in the dreams of the green ones.

I have achieved everything I ever set out to do. And have come to terms with not fucking Scarlett Johansson. My belief system is now one of peace and acceptance.

What lies ahead for me, is retirement. I need to plan and execute now because there is little time left. I have a few tricks, a few plans, and that is it. I shall eventually withdraw back into the swamps from which I came, a forgotten old man, just like my father and grandfather.

And in the darkness, I shall close my eyes. And masturbate.