Monday, January 30, 2012

Dragons of Spring Dawning

For the past few days, I haven't been able to write. A condition I suffered as a child - pompholyx - has come back to haunt me.

Pompholyx affects the fingers and toes in the form of small bubbles of water and it is very itchy. As the onslaught receded, I was besieged by an infection of the affected areas, making it painful to type.

Idiots will of course cry supernatural bullshit to tie the infections to my activity making fun of Holy Gods such as Anwar and other bullshit fuckers.

So, as a precaution, tonight I am summoning golden-scaled dragons to my aid. These supernatural beings will kill all the family members of anyone who ever slighted me, leaving my enemies alone and desolate in a cruel, cold world - eventually culminating in their suicides. Suicides which I will include in my Individual Eleven master conspiracy.

Writing all of that made me rest for a few minutes, so that is the pain threshold I am facing right now - a few hundred words, then rest. This is better. Previously, I couldn't even type.

Ah, tonight, I shall have to dance - contemporary ballet - to summon the dragons. Using their arcane energies, I can then regain my speed in writing.

Friday, January 27, 2012

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

Hey, primitives.

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

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

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

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

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

The Dutch cut is similar to the American cut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Being Civil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Melayu Boleh: Tribut Kisah-kisah Agung Percintaan

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

Tajuk: Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Temah termuntah darah beku.

Kemudian, dia juga membuat beberapa balik kuang di udara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kembaaaaaaaaang cipap aku mendengarnya," kata Temah.

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


Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Mari Belajar Bahasa Rempit!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Discovery Travel and Puking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Belajar Bahasa Sunda dan Jawa

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

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

Aku cuma tahu beberapa patah Bahasa Sunda:

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

Walujiang - selamat. Walujiang enjing maksudnya selamat pagi.

Bahasa Jawa pulak, aku rasa ramai yang tahu:

koe: engkau

aku: aku

tersno: cinta

kokkorok: sama/dengan

rampong: sudah

iseng: berak

ti lem: tidur

susu: tetek

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

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

Lebih kurang macam tu lah.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Berak-berak Eastern Heretic

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Udah keluar, pak," katanya.

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

Bandungese: Katanya ingin ditubuh band baru.

Aku: Apa jadi Peterpan?

Bandungese: Udah berpecah.

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

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

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

Blablabla, dia tanya aku pasal Malaysia.

Bandungese: Malaysia, udah makmur ya, pak?

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

Bandungese: Tapi saya lihat orang Malaysia semua intelektual.

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

Bandungese: Kok mengapa sih?

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

Bandungese: Sama aja macam di Indonesia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Makan-Makan

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

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

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

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

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

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

Siri Bercakap Dengan Ting Ting: Kisah Sangkuriang yang Gaul

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Begitulah kisah Sangkuriang.

Aku pergi tidur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aku: Hello, encik, saya nak bayar PTPTN.

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

AKu: Tapi, saya nak bayar.

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

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

Jadi, passport aku dah okay. Yay!

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

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

Yang lain, aku akan tulis di sini.

Cuma satu saja aku nak ceritakan sekarang.

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

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

Aku: Mintak segelas?

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

Oklah. Aku nak sambung buat kerja.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Watcher

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Kesejukan Sepandang Layang

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Kitab Masakan Tempur

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

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

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

3. Mesti tidak membuatkan kita mengantuk semasa bertempur.

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

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

1. Ayam Goreng Kunyit Menunduk Naga

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

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

2. Roti Bakar Asura

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

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

3. Butterhead Lettuce Boddhisativa Pembuka Jalan

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

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

- Ditulis oleh Syaitan Pekerjaan.

Monday, January 9, 2012


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was still here. I am still here.

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

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

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

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

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

Genderang Perang Menghentam Dada

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

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

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Malaysian Psycho: Gandhi (the film)

I do not know Gandhi. Never met him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, January 7, 2012

One Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saya Belia 4B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sekain, terima kasih.

Intermission: Nine Yin Manuals

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Limit Break

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Baru-Baru Ini: Analisis Politik Sebab Terbangun Nak Kencing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pergilah mampus.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just bring it.

Winning Conditions

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

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

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

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

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

Still reading, you fucking morons?

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

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

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

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

Fight the Future

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that's stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You understand any of this, you fucking morons?

Monday, January 2, 2012

Moronic Verses

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

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

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

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

The Adventures of Boron - World's Most Boring Man

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Malaysian Psycho: Cyclic Coherency

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

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

Few believed me. I do not understand why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Night Visits

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Assert reality, I told him.

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

Assert reality!


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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