Destruction is one of The Endless - a collection of beings older than gods, and some are older than time itself.
Destruction is the sibling who abdicated his throne. WIthout him in his realm, destruction - change - still happens.
In 'A Treatise on Optics', Destruction lamented the Age of Reason, when humans started glorifying science and discarding their warlike behaviour. It was simply a lull, he said, before certain unchangeable routes are taken. He was talking about either Copernicus or Galileo who postulated that light has a speed.
And that one philosopher was talking about the relation between mass and energy.
E=mc2. The theory that made possible the atomic bomb, and nuclear energy.
Destruction predicted - no, he KNEW - that the nuclear age was coming, and that mankind will find a way for their eventual ultimate destruction.
He left, wanting no further part in destroying the world. And yet, without him, things continue to be destroyed. Things continue to change. Therefore, who is destroying everything? Who is the force behind change?
I have labelled myself as Lord of Destruction, not because I am crazy and suffer from delusions that I am the anthropomorphic personification of the thing, but because I sympathise with Destruction the most, these days.
I still belong to Dream, but my sympathies are with his brother, the burdened Destruction. Haunted by his conscience, Destruction left, and in doing so, fulfilled the ultimate act of his personification - he destroyed the structure of The Endless.
May God have mercy on man and machine.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
And I Hear the Gentle Beating of Mighty Wings
"I do not understand," I said, revealing my youth. "Why do they do it?"
"They are trying to fill holes in themselves," she said. Her eyes looked like it has seen a few hundred thousand sunsets. There is perhaps a sadness, a crack, but it was barely discernible, if it was ever there.
"And I did everything I could, right? There's nothing else I can do?"
"Why you don't you just enjoy the show?"
I walked with her, for a bit. She didn't have to answer me. I have done everything I could, short of hurting myself.
"You know that if you do anything," she said, "Be prepared for them to turn around and say, 'I've done all you told me to, and now my life is like this and it's all your fault'."
And I know that she's right. Some things, most things, are best discovered on their own. I myself never took to what others have told me, only believing the advices I have been given after I have experienced it myself.
Maybe it is time for me to listen to her, for once. She is one of the few.
As I walked with her, I heard the gentle beating of mighty wings...
"They are trying to fill holes in themselves," she said. Her eyes looked like it has seen a few hundred thousand sunsets. There is perhaps a sadness, a crack, but it was barely discernible, if it was ever there.
"And I did everything I could, right? There's nothing else I can do?"
"Why you don't you just enjoy the show?"
I walked with her, for a bit. She didn't have to answer me. I have done everything I could, short of hurting myself.
"You know that if you do anything," she said, "Be prepared for them to turn around and say, 'I've done all you told me to, and now my life is like this and it's all your fault'."
And I know that she's right. Some things, most things, are best discovered on their own. I myself never took to what others have told me, only believing the advices I have been given after I have experienced it myself.
Maybe it is time for me to listen to her, for once. She is one of the few.
As I walked with her, I heard the gentle beating of mighty wings...
Mere Naam Lucifer
I was about to write something, before I sleep. But no. Let that be a secret. Muahahahaha!
My Favourite Notebook
My favourite notebook is one leatherbound, with stainless steel ring binding. It has a Discovery Networks Asia logo stamped outside it. Of all the freebies I got, this is my most cherished one.
The leather means that this notebook will last long after I die. The contents, though, will have to be replaced after a few months.
I like it better than my Moleskin notebook, which someone stole. I hope whoever stole it will be destroyed. Maybe he or she is already destroyed. I don't know. I don't care.
I do know that after a spate of writing in it recently, I need to replace the notepaper inside it.
And I need a pen that goes well with it. Hmmm...
The leather means that this notebook will last long after I die. The contents, though, will have to be replaced after a few months.
I like it better than my Moleskin notebook, which someone stole. I hope whoever stole it will be destroyed. Maybe he or she is already destroyed. I don't know. I don't care.
I do know that after a spate of writing in it recently, I need to replace the notepaper inside it.
And I need a pen that goes well with it. Hmmm...
The Truth
The Truth is what Spider Jerusalem believes in.
The greatest of all journalists, and he's a fictional character. In a comic book.
Jerusalem is a journalist paranoid, which means he is a paranoid first, with journalistic attributes.
He was fired from The Word and eventually worked for The Hole, which is primarily a porn site with news as a sideline.
Jerusalem brought down two presidents - The Beast and The Smiler. He hates liars.
Funny, because the greatest journalist is a comics character. But true, since he exists only as an idea. Fits Platonic ideals.
Me? Well, some journalists say that since I write entertainment, I'm not a real journalist. I'm 'just' a writer.
Some believe since I didn't go through pain, I am not worthy.
Funny. I don't remember them being hospitalised four times for stress-related illnesses. Don't talk to me about pain. I don't go to my seniors and rub their faces in my snatch, telling them about pain.
Pain, is ultimately stupid. It is something to be avoided or tolerated, not worn like some fucking badge of honour.
Suck my dick. I am not impressed by pain. I'm impressed by courage, not cowardice. Hiding behind pain or any other excuse is cowardly.
Great people, they just smile and get on with it. Cause at the end of the day, everyone dies. And I haven't got all day.
The greatest of all journalists, and he's a fictional character. In a comic book.
Jerusalem is a journalist paranoid, which means he is a paranoid first, with journalistic attributes.
He was fired from The Word and eventually worked for The Hole, which is primarily a porn site with news as a sideline.
Jerusalem brought down two presidents - The Beast and The Smiler. He hates liars.
Funny, because the greatest journalist is a comics character. But true, since he exists only as an idea. Fits Platonic ideals.
Me? Well, some journalists say that since I write entertainment, I'm not a real journalist. I'm 'just' a writer.
Some believe since I didn't go through pain, I am not worthy.
Funny. I don't remember them being hospitalised four times for stress-related illnesses. Don't talk to me about pain. I don't go to my seniors and rub their faces in my snatch, telling them about pain.
Pain, is ultimately stupid. It is something to be avoided or tolerated, not worn like some fucking badge of honour.
Suck my dick. I am not impressed by pain. I'm impressed by courage, not cowardice. Hiding behind pain or any other excuse is cowardly.
Great people, they just smile and get on with it. Cause at the end of the day, everyone dies. And I haven't got all day.
The Oracle
Sometimes, I wish I was wrong.
But no, that's a lie.
Being right is the most addictive thing ever. And while I may get sidetracked with shit, things always unfold the way I have always thought they would. People always turn out to be as I thought they were.
I'm bored, really. Surprise me, for once.
Surprise me, you filthy bastards!
But no, that's a lie.
Being right is the most addictive thing ever. And while I may get sidetracked with shit, things always unfold the way I have always thought they would. People always turn out to be as I thought they were.
I'm bored, really. Surprise me, for once.
Surprise me, you filthy bastards!
How to Make Money
You know, if I had half the skills of some people, I would make lots and lots of money.
If I could draw, I'd be rich. I'd be doing shit for various things and I'd make tons of money. The comics world is global and art has no boundaries, geographical or spiritual.
If I could take pictures professionally, I'd do company profiles. One company profile job is RM20,000 or more.
If I could speak to people, I'd be a trainer. Some trainers charge RM10,000 per head. Per head. I can do modules, man, but I hate talking to people. I've been to these trainings, and I have observed the tricks of the trade. I hate wearing suits, or I'd train.
If I could do music, or play an instrument, I'd be rich.
Cause see, the problem is not in Malaysians lacking any talent. It's all about whether you want to do it. Yeah, I acknowledge all your potentials, but before you have sat down, went through shit and have enough balls to dare to do things, you are nothing.
Whatever little talent I am given, whatever little opportunity I see, I grabbed. People can say many things. They can say my work sucks. They can say whatever. End of the day, I am satisfied with the fact that while others cower in their meek little minds, shrouded in ego, I dared to go forth and show my balls to some hookers. Err, I mean, I dared to show my balls to the world, figuratively.
You can try to kick my balls, but you have to jump up and swing hard just to hit me in the knees.
Suck my dick, all of you - and some of you did. Hahahahaha!
If I could draw, I'd be rich. I'd be doing shit for various things and I'd make tons of money. The comics world is global and art has no boundaries, geographical or spiritual.
If I could take pictures professionally, I'd do company profiles. One company profile job is RM20,000 or more.
If I could speak to people, I'd be a trainer. Some trainers charge RM10,000 per head. Per head. I can do modules, man, but I hate talking to people. I've been to these trainings, and I have observed the tricks of the trade. I hate wearing suits, or I'd train.
If I could do music, or play an instrument, I'd be rich.
Cause see, the problem is not in Malaysians lacking any talent. It's all about whether you want to do it. Yeah, I acknowledge all your potentials, but before you have sat down, went through shit and have enough balls to dare to do things, you are nothing.
Whatever little talent I am given, whatever little opportunity I see, I grabbed. People can say many things. They can say my work sucks. They can say whatever. End of the day, I am satisfied with the fact that while others cower in their meek little minds, shrouded in ego, I dared to go forth and show my balls to some hookers. Err, I mean, I dared to show my balls to the world, figuratively.
You can try to kick my balls, but you have to jump up and swing hard just to hit me in the knees.
Suck my dick, all of you - and some of you did. Hahahahaha!
Amir Hafizi and the Deathly Hallows
I sense death. I don't know where, I don't know who. I feel as if someone is going to either fall violently sick or die.
Oh well. I have been wrong before.
I'll take care of my own shit. Still have loads to do, and I am feeling some pangs of hunger.
Can't eat at this hour. I'll sleep first, and wake up in the morning. Breakfast sounds good.
Oh well. I have been wrong before.
I'll take care of my own shit. Still have loads to do, and I am feeling some pangs of hunger.
Can't eat at this hour. I'll sleep first, and wake up in the morning. Breakfast sounds good.
What the World is Watching
My world is vast and infinite. I don't confine myself in a small cul-de-sac, in a little armpit of the world.
Limiting your world is limiting yourself.
In Canada, I believe Sunder is high. With life, if for nothing else. In Zurich, somewhere, Amran is eating chocolates. In Bonn, Germany, Lia is perhaps purchasing a lederhosen.
Marc is eating prawns off a truck in Melbourne. I told him I saw it in an episode of Lost and last week he found a company that does exactly that.
Back in Canada, Terrina might be screeching and killing roaches with her walking stick. Just like her Yaya did.
Everyone has gone global, and I am operating on a planetary scale. When Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa comes out, it will be shown in at least 30++ countries. It's just the beginning.
You have to jump up and swing hard just to hit me in the knees, motherfucker. You're so far under my radar, I don't even know who the fuck you are.
I'm a black guy in my own country, which explains the hip-hop. Malays in this country are poor ass motherfuckers. Other races drive Toyotas and Hondas on the roads, while Malays have Kancils and MyVis and Kelisas in their driveways, cause they don't have enough money to buy fuel.
I don't want to drive. I want to be driven. In a Maybach? Hahahahaha.
Silly dreams, my friends. Silly dreams...
Limiting your world is limiting yourself.
In Canada, I believe Sunder is high. With life, if for nothing else. In Zurich, somewhere, Amran is eating chocolates. In Bonn, Germany, Lia is perhaps purchasing a lederhosen.
Marc is eating prawns off a truck in Melbourne. I told him I saw it in an episode of Lost and last week he found a company that does exactly that.
Back in Canada, Terrina might be screeching and killing roaches with her walking stick. Just like her Yaya did.
Everyone has gone global, and I am operating on a planetary scale. When Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa comes out, it will be shown in at least 30++ countries. It's just the beginning.
You have to jump up and swing hard just to hit me in the knees, motherfucker. You're so far under my radar, I don't even know who the fuck you are.
I'm a black guy in my own country, which explains the hip-hop. Malays in this country are poor ass motherfuckers. Other races drive Toyotas and Hondas on the roads, while Malays have Kancils and MyVis and Kelisas in their driveways, cause they don't have enough money to buy fuel.
I don't want to drive. I want to be driven. In a Maybach? Hahahahaha.
Silly dreams, my friends. Silly dreams...
The Day Amir Stood Still (For Five Seconds)
Somebody treated me to a massage today, after a long one. And the previous night, I came back from a night assignment, to sleep on the floor cause some relatives came for a visit.
There is only one bed
The massage was done by a real professional. No hanky-panky, and I was screaming all the way.
As soon as I got back home, I lied on the bed and just knocked off. Woke up at 3am. My left ear is still ringing and I think I am experiencing slight hearing loss. My hearing was not perfect to begin with, as I couldn't hear everything in a normal human spectrum.
Listening to people is important to me. It's how I gather information. More information is always good. My mind can process and extrapolate data later.
For example, I understand that I make a lot of people jealous merely by existing. I know a lot of shit. I don't know everything, but I know enough to make idiots see me as clairvoyant. Fucking idiots.
I mean, I come from a swamp. I'm a swamp boy, motherfucker. I taught myself many things, and I had really great teachers. My life is quite nice. It's not perfect, and I have debts I need to take care of, but hey, I'm cool with shit.
Maybe the next time I go back home, I'll take pictures of my village and show you how the people there are stuck in the '70s. Poor ass motherfuckers. All they need is proper management.
Oh well.
It is not my job, to save everyone. I let go, and am still letting go of that delusion. It is extremely dangerous.
Ah, now is time to get back to work. See you after the breach.
There is only one bed
The massage was done by a real professional. No hanky-panky, and I was screaming all the way.
As soon as I got back home, I lied on the bed and just knocked off. Woke up at 3am. My left ear is still ringing and I think I am experiencing slight hearing loss. My hearing was not perfect to begin with, as I couldn't hear everything in a normal human spectrum.
Listening to people is important to me. It's how I gather information. More information is always good. My mind can process and extrapolate data later.
For example, I understand that I make a lot of people jealous merely by existing. I know a lot of shit. I don't know everything, but I know enough to make idiots see me as clairvoyant. Fucking idiots.
I mean, I come from a swamp. I'm a swamp boy, motherfucker. I taught myself many things, and I had really great teachers. My life is quite nice. It's not perfect, and I have debts I need to take care of, but hey, I'm cool with shit.
Maybe the next time I go back home, I'll take pictures of my village and show you how the people there are stuck in the '70s. Poor ass motherfuckers. All they need is proper management.
Oh well.
It is not my job, to save everyone. I let go, and am still letting go of that delusion. It is extremely dangerous.
Ah, now is time to get back to work. See you after the breach.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Amir Hafizi and the Natural Philosophers, Stoned
Me: Hey, Socrates!
Socrates: You called?
Me: Yes, for the past hour. What's up, ugly guy?
Socrates: Ah, and is ugliness an absolute Truth, or does it depend on perception?
Me: Do you always answer everything with a question?
Socrates: ... Is there any other way?
Plato: Ugliness? Ugliness is an idea. No ugliness is True ugliness, merely a physical representation of the ugliness that exists in the idea plane.
Aristotle: What planes are you talking about? Airplanes? Electric wood planes? Roti canai plane?
Plato: You and your fucking labels. Grow up, 'Totle!
Aristotle: No, YOU grow up, you wishy-washy motherfucker. Mr 'God exists because the idea of God exists'.
Socrates: You said that?
Plato: I was merely placating the Church. They were on my ass for something.
Aristotle: I bet. *snicker*
Plato: What's up with you and asses anyway? We all know you don't like women. Pederast!
Socrates: Behold, as I drink this hemlock, probably to gain attention?
Aristotle: That's not hemlock. That's schlitz malt liquor. Ass.
Plato: See? The idea of ass is embodied within your head.
Me: What the fuck is this gay shit? Thank whatever I just got some pussy.
Socrates: You called?
Me: Yes, for the past hour. What's up, ugly guy?
Socrates: Ah, and is ugliness an absolute Truth, or does it depend on perception?
Me: Do you always answer everything with a question?
Socrates: ... Is there any other way?
Plato: Ugliness? Ugliness is an idea. No ugliness is True ugliness, merely a physical representation of the ugliness that exists in the idea plane.
Aristotle: What planes are you talking about? Airplanes? Electric wood planes? Roti canai plane?
Plato: You and your fucking labels. Grow up, 'Totle!
Aristotle: No, YOU grow up, you wishy-washy motherfucker. Mr 'God exists because the idea of God exists'.
Socrates: You said that?
Plato: I was merely placating the Church. They were on my ass for something.
Aristotle: I bet. *snicker*
Plato: What's up with you and asses anyway? We all know you don't like women. Pederast!
Socrates: Behold, as I drink this hemlock, probably to gain attention?
Aristotle: That's not hemlock. That's schlitz malt liquor. Ass.
Plato: See? The idea of ass is embodied within your head.
Me: What the fuck is this gay shit? Thank whatever I just got some pussy.
Amir Hafizi, the Half-Blooded Prince
I, am a half-breed. A mutt. A mongrel. And proud of it.
I am a Chinese-Malay. Which makes me a Chi-Lay. If I make babies with a Bai woman, our children would be Ma-Chi-Bai.
Being a half-and-half, I always get to be an outsider. Well, I used to, until the dominant Malay genes kicked in.
I used to have straight hair, when I was small. My eyes used to be hazel. Now they're dark-brown. I have facial hair.
I can understand some Cantonese, as well as Mandarin and a smattering of Hokkien. Could never speak it, but I could always infer the meanings of shit. I hid this until recently, so I could always detect people saying racist things about me. Hahaha.
Now, I just couldn't care less. Being of mixed parentage, in one of those families that seem to collect ethnicities like some people collect STDs, I know one thing about racism: whoever you hate, ends up in your family, according to Chris Rock.
You hate gays? You will end up with a gay son. You hate Malays? Your daughter will come back with an Ahmad Mesingan.
I used to hate white people, cause no one hates white people. Except for black people, and I could find none in Kuantan.
Then, some of my relatives got with white people. And they're nice folk.
Now, I hate Koreans, in the hopes that one day I get to have sex with one and get some Korean in my family.
I am a Chinese-Malay. Which makes me a Chi-Lay. If I make babies with a Bai woman, our children would be Ma-Chi-Bai.
Being a half-and-half, I always get to be an outsider. Well, I used to, until the dominant Malay genes kicked in.
I used to have straight hair, when I was small. My eyes used to be hazel. Now they're dark-brown. I have facial hair.
I can understand some Cantonese, as well as Mandarin and a smattering of Hokkien. Could never speak it, but I could always infer the meanings of shit. I hid this until recently, so I could always detect people saying racist things about me. Hahaha.
Now, I just couldn't care less. Being of mixed parentage, in one of those families that seem to collect ethnicities like some people collect STDs, I know one thing about racism: whoever you hate, ends up in your family, according to Chris Rock.
You hate gays? You will end up with a gay son. You hate Malays? Your daughter will come back with an Ahmad Mesingan.
I used to hate white people, cause no one hates white people. Except for black people, and I could find none in Kuantan.
Then, some of my relatives got with white people. And they're nice folk.
Now, I hate Koreans, in the hopes that one day I get to have sex with one and get some Korean in my family.
Amir Hafizi and the Qubul of Fire
Me: Mintak qubul?
Perempuan: Nah!
Me: Mmmm. Lazat! Uish! Pedasnya! Ko kena lada kat puki ke apa?
Amir Hafizi and the Qubul of Fire
Perempuan: Nah!
Me: Mmmm. Lazat! Uish! Pedasnya! Ko kena lada kat puki ke apa?
Amir Hafizi and the Qubul of Fire
Amir Hafizi and the Chamber of Secretions
Me: Lawa chamber ko?
Betina: Nak rasa?
Me: Uish! Apa air-air ni? Memancut tak tentu hala.
Amir Hafizi and the Chamber of Secretions
Betina: Nak rasa?
Me: Uish! Apa air-air ni? Memancut tak tentu hala.
Amir Hafizi and the Chamber of Secretions
Amir Hafizi and the Order of the Phoenix
Me: Boss!
Waiter: Yes?
Me: Phoenix Goreng satu?
Waiter: Okay!
Amir Hafizi and the Order of the Phoenix.
Waiter: Yes?
Me: Phoenix Goreng satu?
Waiter: Okay!
Amir Hafizi and the Order of the Phoenix.
Pekak
Aku duduk berapa jam tadi, depan speaker. Sekarang dah tak dengar sangat. Hahahaha!
Gila rock kapak.
Aku nak tidur kejap. Pasni nak buat story. Membujur lalu melintang patah!
Gila rock kapak.
Aku nak tidur kejap. Pasni nak buat story. Membujur lalu melintang patah!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Challengers of the Unknown
You have no idea what kind of challenges await me. All that I have learned today and in the past, is vital in order for me to even draw breath.
Some things could break a human. Will it break me? Only if I allow it.
The kind of shit that perhaps so few have gone through before.
You have no idea, man. No idea. Oh well. Kalau takutkan ribut dan badai, jangan berumah di tepi pantai.
Some things could break a human. Will it break me? Only if I allow it.
The kind of shit that perhaps so few have gone through before.
You have no idea, man. No idea. Oh well. Kalau takutkan ribut dan badai, jangan berumah di tepi pantai.
Taik Yang Sihat
Aku menghasilkan taik yang sihat.
Duduk di atas takhta porselain, mengeluarkan taik-taik yang maha sihat. Pasal aku makan sayur. Sayur bagus.
Mujur takde ketulan biji-biji jagung.
Kalau taik aku ni dijadikan baja, aku rasa subur pokok ni.
Selepas mengeluarkan taik yang sihat, aku akan berangkat menuju ke konsert rock kapak. Kalau tak berak, nanti teran-punya teran, keluar la pulak taik.
Tapi baju aku, baju hip-hop. Tupac Shakur, yo!
Duduk di atas takhta porselain, mengeluarkan taik-taik yang maha sihat. Pasal aku makan sayur. Sayur bagus.
Mujur takde ketulan biji-biji jagung.
Kalau taik aku ni dijadikan baja, aku rasa subur pokok ni.
Selepas mengeluarkan taik yang sihat, aku akan berangkat menuju ke konsert rock kapak. Kalau tak berak, nanti teran-punya teran, keluar la pulak taik.
Tapi baju aku, baju hip-hop. Tupac Shakur, yo!
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