Bagaimana Menjadi Kaya

Tahun Baru Cina lepas, aku balik kampung. Aku tengok bapak aku, yang sepatutnya pakai kerusi roda, masih cuba gagahkan diri berjalan perlahan-lahan. Aku geleng kepala, tapi nak cakap apa?

Walaupun dah kena stroke 4-5 kali, bapak aku masih boleh berjalan dan masih menyumpah Anwar Ibrahim bila dengar nama dia kat TV. Bapak aku penyokong kuat UMNO dan Barisan Nasional. Right wing gila-gila punya. Mati hidup balik pun dia tak akan undi pembangkang.

Ini menyebabkan aku selalu bertekak dengan dia, masa dia sihat dulu. Pasal aku neutral, dan kepada seorang penyokong parti politik, seorang yang neutral juga bermakna aku menentang. Sama la macam penyokong pembangkang yang sesuka hati fikir aku macai UMNO pasal aku Melayu dan aku tak buta tuli nak sokong pembangkang. Aku tengok isu, dan aku tahu bila pukimak politician ni semua menipu.

Aku jugak perhatikan yang pemimpin masyarakat yang sebenar - mereka yang benar-benanr membina komuniti mereka tanpa meminta ganjaran dan sogokan wang ringgit lama-lama akan jadi macam bapak aku. Takde langsung macam orang kaya-kaya dekat KL dengan rumah banglo kat Damansara Heights atau apartment RM50 juta kat KLCC.

Bapak aku telus, dan dia tak pernah bertukar sokongan. Tak macam skim penipuan pelacuran di KL ni. Ramai mereka yang menyokong pembangkang akan mula menjadi penyokong kerajaan yang gila babi sebaik disogok wang ringgit. Ramai ahli pembangkang sekarang bertukar parti semata-mata sebab sudah tiada peluang untuk merompak wang titik peluh rakyat biasa macam bapak aku kalau masih dalam Barisan Nasional.

AKu perhatikan dua-dua belah pihak kerajaan dan pembangkang sebagai benda paling hina dalam dunia.

Semasa aku datang ke KL pada tahun 1998, aku sedar dengan kekayaan si celaka-si celaka di sekeliling aku. Perompak-perompak wang rakyat yang datang daripada kedua belah percaturan politik - Kerajaan DAN Pembangkang. Semuanya anjing pukimak mak bapak dia dan babi sondol menyudu longkang, penghisap jubur profesional dengan bermulut busuk.

Pada beberapa kali dalam hidup aku, aku berfikir dengan serius - mahukah aku hidup dengan memiliki apartment The Binjai berharga RM50 juta? Mahukah aku ada drebar dengan kereta Bugatti Veyron?

Mahukah aku dihisap konek oleh gadis-gadis terdesak yang hauskan peluang untuk menjadi kaya raya, lantas berenang di kolam renang di dalam rumah di OneKL?

Jawapannya, ya.

Soalan kedua ialah, mahukah aku menghulurkan lubang jubur taikku untuk dijilat dan dijolok sama ada secara figuratif atau literal, nyata atau proverbial oleh watak-watak seperti Anwar Ibrahim atau yang lebih teruk lagi?

Sebab ini ialah jalan terpantas untuk menjadi kaya - menghulur jubur sambil lidahku ligat menjilat lubang jubur taik para ahli politik yang KESEMUANYA jauh lebih bodoh daripada aku?

Aku berfikir lama. Ada dalam lima-enam tahun.

Selepas itu aku memutuskan, aku punyai batasan dan akan cuba menjadi kaya dengan hanya menggunakan kehebatan otak aku. Aku akan cari makan dengan cara yang halal. Sekiranya aku masih miskin pada akhir percubaan atau hujung nyawa aku, maka aku terpaksa redha dan mengiktiraf bahawa mereka yang menjilat dan menghisap lubang jubur taik para ahli politik sambil lidah mereka dimasukkan jauh melepasi rectum sambil mencecah ketulan-ketulan taik di dalam usus besar sebenarnya lebih pandai daripada aku.

Sebab makan taik akan memberikan kau segala kemewahan dalam dunia ini. Mana mungkin aku akan dapat kontrak-kontrak dengan bayaran setimpal untuk kerja aku yang selalunya berlipat kali ganda nilainya daripada nilai yang tertera? Mana mungkin dunia ini adil dan menghargai seorang genius seperti aku? Terutamanya dunia Melayu yang dipenuhi berukera penjilat jubur taik yang Maha Berkuasa?

Tun Sri Lanang memasukkan kisah Hang Nadim ke dalam Sejarah Melayu sebab aku rasa dia fikir keadaan ini adalah masalah orang Melayu - takutkan orang yang bijak seperti aku. Ini juga amaran untuk orang seperti aku dan bapak aku - tiada niat yang baik yang tidak dihukum.

Bapak aku tak pernah kaya, tak pernah faham apakah maknanya menjadi seorang yang benar-benar kaya. Bagi bapak aku, RM20,000 ialah sejumlah wang yang amat besar.

Bapak aku membuka kampung tempat kami semua duduk sekarang. Bapak aku tak pernah menipu orang. Bapak aku menolong orang dan habuannya ialah kebencian dan sifat dengki mereka yang ditolong. Apabila menolong binatang, binatang akan rasa kecil sebab ditolong, sebab ada orang difikirkannya lebih mulia daripadanya, maka hasilnya ialah perasaan marah dan benci akibat ego yang mengecil.

Aku rasa, pengakhiran aku akan jadi seperti bapak aku. Aku tak heran pun. Aku dah melepaskan impian rumah banglo besar di tengah KL, atau apartment duplex mewah dengan kolam renang di dalam rumah.

Aku cuma ingin pulang ke kampung dan menjaga mak bapak aku, sekiranya mereka masih hidup. Jika tidak, aku hanya mahu balik kampung dan menunggu mati.

Flu Fighter: Notes on the Run

I'm slipping in and out of consciousness due to the meds I am taking for this flu. So before I go to bed, I find a need to talk to you about Miley Cyrus, the new marketing bullshit and Alvivi.

Last year, I remember having lunch paid for by a guy who owes me money. The guy is old school business and we got to talking about Miley Cyrus. He believed the poor girl's career is over due to some bad decisions. I told him I believed she was just taking Paris Hilton's marketing strategy to the next level.

Hilton, I told him, was a nothing. Who the fuck gave a shit about her until she probably leaked her own porn?

After that, she had a few reality shows, a chain of clubs, was courted by some shady people with money - including one Malaysian dude - an album, starred in some of the worst movies ever made by mankind (yes, even worse than Tanda Putera) and got paid to support her lavish lifestyle. Just from one sex video. And who can forget Kim Kardashian? She built an entire entertainment empire off her own sex video.

The guy had some problems processing this, so I let him off the hook. I have not left him off the hook for owing me money, but there's no reason to explain complex modern economics to a traditionalist. Miley Cyrus had no problems and is now worth 150 million. USD. over 300,000 tweets per minute during her crazy VMA performance, amounting to 4.5 million tweets total for the show. Her album went to number 5. You know how difficult that is?

Miley is NOT on the top 10 list of richest female celebs last year simply because she didn't tour. If she did, I dunno, maybe. The market is fickle and anyone who claims to know for sure is either Simon Cowell or an idiot impostor.

This is perhaps why Alvin and Vivian - the duo known as Alvivi - released their own sex tape. Why did Kardashian and Hilton make hundreds of millions off their sex tape and Alvivi only had people judging them and telling them they suck, have bad teeth and they suck? Did I mention they suck?

The problem, I believe, is timing. The mechanics today, in Malaysia, in order to capture money from attention is not as advanced as it is in the West. It's soon catching up, but it won't be until a few years from now when people like James Lee and others can pave the way here.

Number two - Alvivi do not create anything except buzz. Where's your product, bitch? Where's your webshow? Where's your t-shirt? Where's your money-raking Youtube channel? Where's your downloadable ringtone?

This is where Gen Y fails. This is where America failed earlier this century. If your only product is buzz, if marketing is your entire production, and your system is not advanced enough to get money just from your 15 minutes, you are fucked.

Alvivi had the right idea, but they missed one crucial step - what the fuck are you selling? What? You think you're gonna get movie roles and write books and people will buy that shit?

Do you even know how much they pay actors? Which publisher is going to take you? You wanna self-publish? Good luck not getting banned in Malaysia. Kindle? What?

Goddamned delusional wanking bullshit artists.

You remember the movie Pain and Gain? Arguably Michael Bay's best movie, but not my favourite (it's Armageddon), the thing shows what kind of crazy self-help business-class guru can tell you that being crazy and stupid and half-assed is the way to become a millionaire.

Recently, I see some self-help books in Malay talking the EXACT SAME SHIT the popular '90s business books were telling. And Malaysian businessmen doing what the businessmen and women of the '90s corporate America did - pretend you have success and success will come to you. Even if you can't afford it, buy that sports car, that lavish bungalow and business will come your way.

I have to say, in this sense, I am a traditionalist. I'm in new media, but I remember the dotcom bubble of the '90s, when all these frauds got caught and American venture caps lost billions thinking they're backing the next Google or Apple. Fuck you.

See, I study why things fail, because I see myself as Karnak from the Inhumans. The dotcom bubble burst simply because there were so many bullshit companies selling bullshit. Really, man. Just read up the Times and Forbes magazines of that era. People were getting paid millions a year just to be a 'team player' while not doing any work. Companies were not making anything, had no business models and were not selling anything but the image of modern business. Fuck that shit.

I come from a swamp, motherfucker! I do not identify with any image, but with the core substance of anything - a person, a company, a whole fucking industry, a generation.

You are getting money from something, or you are not. There is a transaction of buying and selling. Goods and services change hands for funds. Basic. There is no magic.

You wanna do business? What you selling, Willis? Vitamin pills? A blowjob? Does the price cover your cost plus margins? Go read wikipedia - there's more business self-help there than you could read in a year. Keynesian economics? Norwegian economics? Go fucking read, bitches.

And this brings us to, as always, multi-level marketing.  MLMs. I HATE MLMs with the intensity of a thousand suns. Why? Because they have created a system where you - the seller - become the biggest captive consumer target market. And you fucking fell for it! You fucking idiots! I should just kill you out of principle.

MLMs play with people's beliefs, their hopes and dreams, and instead of killing them, these MLMs just leave them as financial husks who then rob other people's homes in the true spirit of '90s commercialism.

This is why, even in business, I have never lied. My business is the truth, because I am the light and the way.

Intermission: Past, Present, Pending

Last week, I pitched an extremely intelligent, dignified movie to some people who wanted to do an extremely intelligent and dignified movie about extremely intelligent and dignified people.

I do not believe it will ever get made and even if it did, it will probably flop at the box office because movie audiences do not flock to see intelligent and dignified movies. This would be purely an exercise in national service and doing things for the sake of a greater ideal - if it ever gets made. Others might accuse us of self-absorbed wanking, but all art is self-absorbed wanking.

I got two comic books to write and one to publish. I also have a TV series to finish.

There are some details on a few quotations I have to see to after coming back from CNY. I cannot take all of them, so I will only do what pays the best and gives the most satisfaction as well as freedom. Lots to think about during CNY. One thing's for sure - I am the best in the world at what I do and I no longer come cheap. Neither does my team.

Oh, yes. I have built a team. Hand-picked each member, with fringe players coming into play. Jose Mourinho demands physicality and everyone doing their fair share of defensive duties. I demand loyalty and intelligence as well as adaptability. With this, comes speed.

The kind of things I might be doing in the next few months might require skill sets that do not exist yet in this country. Like sex gymnastics or something. New challenges keep me on my toes.

Meanwhile, my little comics publishing endeavour is shaping up to be in a most interesting position. There are opportunities that suddenly opened up and if I can publish three books this year, I'd be very happy.

I'm also doing an app or two.

Some motherfuckers still owe me money and a few owe me blood. I will collect this year. Or I can imprison them for 15 years and when I let them out, hypnotise them to fuck their mothers.

Why Malaysian Movies are Stupid

People often ask me why Malaysian movies are so stupid. I tell them this is necessary as all movies are stupid.

All movies and all songs are dumbed down to their empirical values. One simple message that reaches out to a base emotional level.

It's like in the book Animal Farm. Everything the farm revolution stood for was boiled down to a simple slogan - "Four legs good, two legs bad." This was originally done for the sheep, who are depicted in the book as stupid, just like people in large groups.

The problem with Malaysian movies and some songs (most of Malaysian music is on par with whatever we have globally) is that it is simply the messaging without the details. No data, no information, no 'isi penting' or proof or arguments to back up the broad statements being made. You get one character saying something general like, "Dia tu jahat." or "Dia tu urban" And that's that.

This is why Malaysian movies are stupid. Because it works on a stupid premise, using a stupid structure, for stupid people.

Look at how people interact online. How discussions and arguments are conducted. Emotive, emotive, emotive. Mana cognitive? Mana stats? Data? References?

BN Jahat! PKR curi duit!

Our culture is a culture of kindergarten emotions. We are a young society, but grow up already, you stupid sons of bitches.

The Daily Porn

Tomorrow, I got a cleaner coming here to my house, a dental appointment at 11.30am, and a show at 8pm or so. Supposed to write a letter and read it. Haven't done it, so maybe I'll just wing it.

My bed is beckoning. For a reckoning. But first, the daily porn.

Primum Mobil

As I sat on the primum mobil - the Prime Mover or as I call it, my toilet seat - I began to reflect on my day, and, as I am wont to do, the state of humanity.

It started with a shortlist of tasks I needed to get done today and I fucking did it before lunch. Also, while fielding all of these things that needs fielding, and courting, I was suddenly attacked by a member of my school alumni. Alumnus. Wait. Alumni is the plural, right? Fuck that shit.

I was accused, by this 'old friend', of being a businessman without a business. And even of being a fictional character. Meaning I lied so others would look up to me.

Well, I was perplexed at first by this wanton hatred and jealousy directed at me when I believe I have conducted my affairs properly and have successfully portrayed myself as the salt of the earth kid from a swamp with a massive brain and throbbing genitals.

Isn't that my image all these years?

I mean, if I wanted these monkeys to look up to me, the only thing I need to do is to say I am now super religious. That I repent from all the sins I have committed and am now getting married, be a breeder and occasionally suck some underaged child's cock. Bam! Instant rectecpa from the monkeys.

Unfortunately, my motivations are much simpler. A lot of people are unnerved by my lack of desire, believing that if they do not control any aspect of what I want, then they cannot control me. And not being in control freaks these shit-bastards out.

I will tell you right now of the thing I want - freedom. I want the freedom to be able to afford to die.

I have no desire to seek approval from others. The words of others are not my God. And yes, these idiots do worship the thoughts and words of others. Their God is not Allah, Jesus, Yahweh, Jehovah, Mithra, Krishna, or Xenu. Their God is Other People.

They care so much about what other people will say that they become these infantile bullshit-eaters. And they want me to feel as insecure as they do.

I asked the dude who accused me of being a fake, "Why are you jealous of me?"

He said, "Ceh. I am not jealous of you, merely repeating what others have said."

See, in his monkey brain, he thinks that by telling me Other People have been talking behind my back, I would repent, cower in the corner, shaking, as a blanket is placed over me as I pray for the approval of Other People.

Dude, I wrote Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa. Other People held seminars - actual fucking Government-sanctioned seminars - behind my back to dispute the historical accuracy of the movie which was based on mythology. Do I look like I give a flying fuck?

I thank him and others for their jealousy and their spite. It is indeed quite an honour to receive the jealousy of monkeys who worship Other People. To you your stupid religion, to me mine.

Despite my Buddhist powers, I was perplexed for about 15 minutes. I was rather surprised that despite not doing anything, I am considered a threat.

These are the same people who ask me constantly about my religion. As in, what brand of religion I subscribe to, like what mobile carrier I choose (Maxis and DiGi) or which team I support (whatever team Jose Mourinho is managing).

These same idiots - and this is pure conjecture - want to know how much people make and make charts based on who makes more money. It is a collective effort to judge one another.

Judging is God's work, not ours. See? I can be religious too. Now please, look up to me, Other People. Love me love me, say that you love me. Fuck you, bitch.

May God have mercy on man and machine.

Best. Kangkung. Video. Ever

Lawak Antarabangsa

Aku bengang baru-baru ni bila terjumpa bebudak berangan tak sudah.

Kalau ko rasa ko international standard, ko pitch la kat kompeni international. Bukan susah, bro. Pitch je la.

Aku start pitch idea dan cerita kat kompeni antarabangsa masa umur aku 19 tahun. Aku ambik outline cerita, idea dan cerita tak siap - pasal aku budak umur 19 tahun yang tak mengenal dunia - pastu aku hantar pakai email ke Random House, Del Rey, Dark Horse Comics, apa-apa alamat e-mail yang aku jumpa masa zaman purba Internet.

Kebanyakan daripada diorang reject. Ada yang hantar rejection letter yang amat sopan, baik dan pemurah. Ada sorang je editor berbangsa Yahudi yang memberi galakan yang hebat. Berminggu-minggu dia suruh aku habiskan cerita pasal orang Yahudi masuk gas chamber.

Dia rasa, seorang beragama Islam menulis cerita sci-fi pasal orang Yahudi kena bunuh masa Perang Dunia Kedua sebagai satu cerita yang penting. Sampai sekarang, aku masih terhutang budi kepada seorang editor Yahudi yang membakar semangat aku di kala aku rasa terperangkap dengan dunia penerbitan fiksyen. Banyak jugak aku belajar daripada dia.

Beberapa minggu lepas, aku pitch kat satu kompeni international yang bertumpu kat sini - kat Malaysia. Selepas 14 tahun, akhirnya ada kompeni sebesar tu yang suka cerita-cerita aku. Apa akan jadi? Adakah aku dapat buat cerita-cerita yang aku suka dan pasarkan ke arena lebih besar? Entah. Aku tak tau.

Aku masih berpijak pada bumi yang nyata.

Yang penting, aku tahu yang aku hanya akan gagal selepas aku berhenti mencuba. Jadi, kepada sesiapa yang amat yakin dengan karya sendiri, kalau nak pitch kat kompeni international, dipersilakan. Bagi aku, aku percaya kepada membangunkan kemahiran sendiri dan mengkaji penerimaan pasaran di kampung halaman sendiri sebelum kau mencuba pasaran luar.

Apa-apa karya yang mampu menyentuh sekumpulan manusia, mempunyai kebarangkalian besar menyentuh kumpulan manusia yang lain. Sebab karya kreatif ni cuma menyampaikan cerita dan idea kompleks melalui apa-apa medium, dengan perlaksanaan yang hebat.

Aku menyampah kat ramai Gen Y sebab berangan lebih. Fahami market kau sendiri - fahami industri kau sendiri sebelum kau terkinja-kinja melompat macam beruk. Fahami manusia. Kalau pemahaman kau pasal dunia cuma bergantung daripada buku yang kau baca dan siri TV yang kau tonton, baik ko pergi keluar dan betul-betul hayati dunia ni macam mana.

Tetapi, aku juga rasa amat gembira bila aku terjumpa Gen Y yang bersemangat nak buat kerja. Ya. Aku tau. 'GenY' dan 'kerja' tidak selalu selari. Tapi ada yang rajin. Ada yang mahu terus berusaha. Ada yang faham bahawa kejayaan itu tidak datang daripada duduk melangu, mengelamun sambil tunggu orang basuh berak kau.

Gen X pun ada jenis tunggu orang bagi dia duit. Atau fikir orang buat kerja sebab nak rompak/curi duit dia. Aku kenal. Ramai.

Ada kos untuk semua benda. Kalau kau fikir kau hebat sangat, dipersilakan. Selepas 10 tahun aku bergelumang dalam industri korporat dan kreatif, aku masih lagi budak umur 19 tahun yang hantar pitch kat syarikat antarabangsa.

Cuma janganlah kau fikir semua orang ialah bibik kau yang akan basuh lubang jubur taik ko untuk bayaran picisan. Ko cubalah dengan kompeni antarabangsa dan tengok sama ada kau diterima atau tidak. Kau mungkin berjaya, atau kau mungkin jadi lawak antarabangsa.

I'm Better Than You

You know what? Just because I come from a teacher's family from the outskirts of Kuantan, I AM better than any of you.

Think about it.

I come from a rural area, my family barely had any money, I never went to a single fucking tuition class, and still manage to score in the top 5% of the country when I was just 12 fucking years old. I beat over 90% of you, on a lower budget.

I got all As for UPSR, all As for PMR and six As for SPM (out of 10) cause by the time I was 17, I was an extremely egotistical kid who wanted to prove I could score without studying.

I got 4A1s, 2A2s and a bunch of C3s for SPM on subjects I didn't give a shit about. Plus a 1A for my 1119 O Level. I look at you rich retards, and I think, "Fuck you, you rich motherfucker."

While you fuckers plonked down 400 bucks for Yu-Gi-Oh cards, I could only read reviews of games and comic books online. While you fuckers get driven to piano classes and dance lessons and whatever the fuck shit rich kids do - I was staying away from being raped and/or beaten up.

I beat the motherfucking odds time and again. The ever shifting standards of education in the old days? I educated myself. Fuck you.

I was stuck in the fucking swamp and I learned stuff myself, on my own. I AM better than you.

I can imitate any skill, given enough time and the right reference material. Nothing is beyond me.

Given enough time, I can do anything.

Despite all your resources, all you could ever hope to achieve is to be a loser douchebag while I accomplish heroic feats impossible to rich people cause they never know what it means to be so broke, you survive on cigarettes and boiled water.

You never had to survive on 600 bucks a month, eating eggs, rice and Aji-Shio. Did you? Huh? Did you?

Have you ever been so broke, you couldn't even afford eggs, so you ate rice with soy sauce? Huh? Fuck you, you rich bastards. You pampered sons of thieves, robbers and murderers.

I had to fight, claw, scratch my way every single inch of the goddamned path. And only by the grace of God did I scrape through.

I was almost homeless and I got no money to rent, so I had to squat at a friend's place. I stayed there for six long fucking months, maybe longer, feeling shitty every single day.

I paid it forward by housing a struggling guy, but he screwed me out of money - that's another story for another day.

I was on the brink more times than I could remember. Idiots and fucktards THREATEN suicide publicly. Let me tell you this: if someone's really, REALLY suicidal, they'd just shut up and withdraw.

I'm fine now, but I was so depressed in my 20s, I was hospitalised. Thank God I had insurance.

You don't fucking know what it means. None of you rich fuckers will ever, EVER know what it's like. To live on the brink. And to survive. Every. Goddamn. Time.

I wrote this so I can say: I'm better than you. Any of you. All a you motherfuckers. You pampered bullshit sacks of motherfucking monkey ass rapists.

Best in the World!

I am looking at the comic book company I am doing, and despite all the odds against it, I still want to do it.

The thing needs two things - product and funding. While I'm doing all sorts of tricks and somersaults to get enough money to launch the damned thing, I am also working on the products.

It should have been launched by now, but we hit a few snags here and there. I'll be a monkey's unclefucker if I tuck tail and run, though.

By hook, by crook, by what creeps, what crawls, by what does not, I will get these projects off the ground. I've waited 15 goddamned years to find an angle to do it and I'll be damned to hell if I stop now.

Only death can prevent me from doing comics. That or mental illness, a debilitating disease, apocalypse, a car accident, sudden successful suicidal attempts or if I fall in love with an alien from the planet Pandora.

Other than this, I will keep at it and keep working until one day, I am crowned the Best Comics Writer and Publisher in the world.

Neil Fucking Gaiman will KNEEEL before me and slap himself silly, wipe his ass with The Sandman Comics - The GREATEST comics known to mankind - and say, "I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!"

(Though if I ever meet the guy, I'd probably be a blubbering psychopath and wet my pants.)

So yes, it's on. I don't give a fuck. Unlike other projects in my life right now, this one is entirely mine, so I really, really special to me. I am already working 15-hour days. If I have to pump it up to 20-hour days, I don't give a fuck.

The Rord of the Fries

Woke up again at close to 3am. Sleep patterns erratic. So I guess I'll tell you about myself. Again.

I left home when I was 12 years old. All my siblings left home when we were 12.

I went to a boarding school, where I was immediately aware that I am poor. Other kids used up their pocket money - I did not have that luxury. I saved every single cent my parents sent me. Nothing to take the edge off that hellhole.

My school was an all-boys' school. So to keep up the macho image, some things were done para-military style.

Orientation week was a time of physical torture. You wake up? 100 squats. You want to have breakfast? 100 squats. Lunch? 100 squats. Dinner? 100 squats. You want to go to sleep? 100 squats. You did something wrong? Everybody got 200 squats. Squats not synchronised? Repeat it again, from the top.

You know the movie Full Metal Jacket? The first part, about private (military private) training? It was like that.

We were 13 years old.

You want to end the night's activities? Stand on tables and chairs and blow at flourescent lights till they go off.

Orientation week was supposed to be for a week, but in various permutations, it lasted four years.

You can get beat up pretty often. You smoke? You get beat up. You make faces at a senior? You get beat up. You say shit to any senior? You get beat up. Walking too loudly? You get beat up.

There were weekly beat up sessions where it started with intimidation and ego-stroking and always ends up with stunts like flying kicks and shit. Saturday night. There was nothing else for the kids to do. We were all very smart - top 400 kids in the country.

I was never really beat up. Some prefects punched and kicked me a few times cause I was standing in the way of love between two people, but that's nothing. Compared to others, I was barely touched cause I slept through most of high school.

Every single time, the reason they give is this toughens you up. It was supposed to break you down as a human so you could be rebuilt. Some people had to pick up pieces of themselves and carry that around for the rest of their lives.

I have to say one thing, though - once you have gone through that hellhole for five years, not many things other than prison fazes you. You learn the true value of everything - nothing. You learn the true value of humans - nothing.

I hate my experience in the hell-hole. But I must admit that all I have seen there has greatly benefitted me. It's like surviving Lord of the Flies. I know how far down the abyss humanity can go. I've been there. I saw the demons lurking behind the masks of tribal anonymity. I saw them smile and bare their teeth.

Nowadays, I hardly ever look back. I hope the worst is over, so I can continue watching porn.

God of War

Been a crazy two days.

Until 8pm just now, I slept for two hours over a 48-hour period. There was a task I thought I couldn't finish by today, furthermore when it is heaped on another task.

But then, somehow, all the layers peeled away and I was there, alone, facing a world of iron and nails. I hacked and hacked at it, never once even thinking of giving up.

And lo and behold - it is done. It is finished. Tasks I thought I couldn't complete - were completed.

I went home and for my reward, I received my mother's cooking.

I felt like Kratos.

Tonight I wake up, and I am already thinking of new work. New tasks. This obsession has barely started.

Under Budget, Ahead of Schedule

I saw one documentary on Samsung and how they got to be where they are.

Those people practised one of the most kiasu strategies in their business. The philosophy was: under budget, ahead of schedule. For every thing.

This will only work in a society that values hard work. There are hardworking people who work hard all their lives and manage only to live till they're old. No Gs, no cheese, no snowmobiles, no skis.

My grandfather - I believe his name was Fong something-something - came to Malaysia on a fucking tongkang. If I remember correctly, he was in his teens. I think he was born in the year 1900. Came here in 1917 or something like that.

He used to tell his kids that he slept on a rock as a pillow. It was by choice, by design, so he would not feel too lazy to get out of bed in the morning and start working. The idea is, if your bed is too comfortable, you'd want to stay in bed all day.

In his 90s, my grandfather lived on a plot of land with a huge chicken farm at the back. Not that huge, just around a few thousand chickens or so. He kept over 40 dogs - all mongrels - and had a small bonsai garden.

He would wake up at 6am every morning and do some farm work. My ancestors from Guangzhou planted tea and lychee, so that part is inherited a few generations, but it stopped with me. I don't plant trees. I plant ideas.

Anyway, my father inherited that thing and played fair, worked hard all his life. The worst offence in our household, when I was growing up, was not doing any work. You constantly had to be doing something useful, or his worst insult will come out: "You're useless!"

He told me to plant corn one time, and I was really pissed off that all my hard work watering those damned things and carrying a sack of chicken shit all over a quarter acre was only going to be worth RM5 per seven ears of high quality corn.

My father's sense of pricing was stuck in World War 2. This was in 1995 or so. I was 15 years old.

We were never rich and putting food on the table was the primary concern. I didn't have lots of pocket money and even though I liked comic books, the only way to enjoy them was to read reviews online (I was online in 1996) as well as Master's thesis on comics.

This is due to the fact that people in 1996 shared useful stuff on the Internet. I read academic journals and papers, slowly realising that the world is full of bullshit and spin.

To this day, my mother cuts chicken to 16 pieces to make sure they go around. We were supposed to eat more rice as it's cheaper.

When a member of another family came and decided to finish off the other dishes, my mother was horrified. Scandalised, even!

This is due to the fact she keeps leftovers in the fridge. She has three - I bought her a large one in 2008. Inside these things are all kinds of food known to man.

During the recent flood in Kuantan, the first thing my mother assured me was that they have enough food in reserve. I didn't need that reassurance. I know in those fridges are a year's worth of provisions - just in case the Japanese were to ever attack us again.

The food may be spoiled, but you won't be hungry. You may die from food poisoning, but you'll never go hungry.

Anyway, in my efforts to be under budget and ahead of schedule for my own projects, I believe this would be the first year in 33 that I would not be going back for Chinese New Year.

I don't think my father or my late grandfather would mind. I know that if I explained it to them in farming terms, they would understand.

Tales from the Drunk Side: It's Been a While

Yep.

Corporate Vs Creative

I got started on some corporate jobs recently and I soon found myself utterly consumed by it. Whenever I start work on any one thing - with nothing else to take my attention away - I devote myself fully to it.

Everything else falls away, as I see only one goal in front of me. I will fucking hammer at it until it is done. This actually has a physical effect on my body. High on adrenaline, or something, I find my core temperature raised. I feel hot all the time - and not an unhealthy, feverish hot. I stay up longer, and my mind does not stop spinning, painting many possibilities and simulating solutions for everything.

It's a sickness, an addiction. I have been here before. I know the feeling. It's like that one time I rode pillion on a small kapcai from Karak to Lembah Pantai, in the rain. Doing 140km/h on the highway, small droplets of water turn into stinging beads.

Soon, your hand feels numb, then, your face. Soon, you are just a nub of humanity facing erosion in the wind.

I am extremely intense.

Over the years, I have learned some degree of pacing, of patience, of managing expectations. But when I work - when I push - it is this intense energy that carries me forward. And I like it. I do hope everything works without a hitch.

Creative projects generate a different kind of energy. I become more spread out. It's chaos without any single point to focus on. This wide dispersal is about mass movements of energy - about people. It is about arranging many different pieces in a lifetime to prepare a collage.

Sometimes, I get lost in it and not much comes out of half-written novels or unfinished short stories. Movie scripts, though, I approach with a corporate mindset because there are others on the team waiting for the damned thing to be finished.

Both fields provide a different kind of rush. Corporate - an addict-like fire that burns everything raw. Creative - a more holistic, all-embracing neatness in a chaos of fractals.

I think I need to lay off the corporate for a while until everything is confirmed. My intensity might come in handy later on, but I also need to pace myself. What I need to do for this phase is almost done anyway. There are still a lot more to do, but I can wait for the others and other things to be there as well.

I might as well sleep for now, cause I don't know what I need to do tomorrow or next week. I'm just afraid the fire will be stomped out prematurely, which is still a possibility.

Tardy TARDIS

Today, I felt like Dr Who. I was taking a companion on a tour of humanity. The little games, the intense desires and truths and lies and things with molecular structure and this is my boomstick.

I have long past tired of humans and animals. Even plants. Truth be told, given the money, I would just work out every day beside a koi pond, with a yoga deck.

Something like this, but more modest

I have the perfect spot - it's beside my house at the kampung. I'll build a koi pond there, some day. On the side, there will be a wooden deck where I can install a cardio machine or just an empty space to do yoga.

I'd stay there, in that house, watching the koi, and one day I will die. I do not need or want anything else.

I see people with ambition and desire, and I always say good luck to them. I know that for me, nothing they want in life is anything I truly desire. I don't judge them for it - except for those who are animals. Those, I always judge because they choose to be animals - but I wish them well on their way.

The world has enough for everyone - as long as we do not breed like viruses and exhaust the resources - and I believe a quiet, often flooded place at the edge of the Malaysian peninsula is enough for me.

I mean, I'm already immortal - I got my own IMDB page (which is not entirely correct and will always be incomplete) - and I have done all I ever wanted to do in this life.

My daily issues are just that of survival and one day to be able to afford that koi pond. My focus has gotten more intense. I have no regard for any thing other than my goals.

Oh well. Here's my sonic screwdriver. Time to take a nap.

Notes on the Run

Lots of idiots were shocked when I offered the view that we are all insignificant. That I am insignificant - that you are insignificant - that everyone is fucking insignificant.

They see this as some sort of depression, when this thinking is one of those things that got me out of depression.

They don't understand it. Because they are undoubtedly idiots.

When you remove your 'self' from the equation, you will be able to see things more clearly. You will be able to feel real emotion without the constraints of the ego, without identification with the self. I have seen so many smart people fall prey to arrogance and the ego. Scratch that. In doing so, they are no longer smart - but idiots like the rest of them.

These past few years, I have been experimenting by tapping into my natural tools such as my drive, my energy and my sense of urgency while retaining my sanity and clarity of mind. The clarity comes realising that I do not matter. That I am nothing. But in order for me to get some things, I have to do certain actions and display certain ... traits.

For example, in order for you to get service at a restaurant, you need to increase your visibility and presence. While talking to people, you need to be empathic and become a receptacle to their thoughts and ideas. In order for you to talk, you need to listen, blablabla.

So anyway, I have found my peace and my solace by removing my presence and my killing instinct entirely. What is outside of my being exists as it is. I sometimes see myself doing things. In the past, whenever I do stupid things, I could sense and see it, but I could not do anything about it. It's like having a dream, watching this idiot stumble through life. That idiot being me.

Through meditation, breathing exercises and mental practices, I have managed to slow the perceived response time between action and thought. It's still not complete - I'll always be a work in progress - but I have seen some improvements.

The more I practice this and the more I make mistakes, I seem to become calmer. It is possible today, to be excited and calm at the same time - if that means anything.

Anyway, I finished a few things tonight and will wake up tomorrow hopefully refreshed enough to tackle the challenges and the Herculean tasks I have set for myself and my team.

Fight the Future

A friend asked recently about the future of this country. A pretty hefty topic for a light meal we were having, but I decided to answer him in full.

"We are all heading for destruction," I said. And I mean it. Not just for Malaysia, but for the world.

There is not enough space nor resources to accommodate the virus that is mankind.

"So where is this country heading?" he asked.

I gave a lengthy answer, but the truth is, and to put it in simpler terms - this country is heading where its people are heading.

Everything that makes a country - the social contract, the laws, the administration, the song, the culture, the flag - all of it were just because some years ago, a bunch of people got together and said, "Hey, let's live together and adhere to these rules. And have these things represent our group."

I've always seen all constructs - nation, race, religion - to be very flimsy agreements between a bunch of people. Do we have to follow all of them? Well, if we agreed to them, and continue to, we are honour-bound by our word - our promise - that things stay as they are.

Therefore, those who are lucky enough to be in control of the wealth or political power should find it in their best interest - in order to remain in control of said resources - that there is a fair distribution of wealth, and some degree of freedom that the majority accepts.

Otherwise, the majority - the basis of democracy - might decide to either not follow the contract put forth that makes this country, or make new rules. Or even take all the money for themselves, denying those who previously have the wealth to have any.

Everything requires balance, and this balance is extremely hard to come by. More so is a sembling of balance, but let's not digress.

One thing I find the majority of Malaysians don't understand is money. Much like energy, money can't be created or destroyed. Almost. There are exceptions, such as the US printing money on the basis that their dollar is strong. It's not that strong anymore, but they keep on printing it, I guess.

Money flows from one place to another. It is limited because scarcity is one of its traits, bla bla bla. I don't want to go to Form Four Basic Economics.

What I want to say is that the future of this or any country depends on its people. If the people work together and benefit each other, there will be much money to be made. If we continue to be entitled toddlers who do not understand that there is a cost to everything and you can't run away from paying what is due, then we as a society are doomed to destruction.

I am writing by electric light. There is a cost to this electric energy, most probably coal or diesel. I am writing on a table. It's wooden, meaning at some point, a tree was cut so it could be made. The lorry that carried that piece of log to the furniture factory was paid.

Everything is connected, and everything has a cost. That movie you just downloaded - somebody paid for the production design, for the crew to haul equipment and operate them. Somebody wrote a stupid script for porn actors who mouthed the lines while sucking cock or nipples. And he/she got paid for it.

I just threw some tissue paper into a wastebasket. Tomorrow, someone will come and collect the trash I will put in the rubbish bin outside my apartment. There is a cost to that garbage man and his garbage truck, and the landfill he will take the trash to.

The roads you travel on - somebody paid for the bitumen or asphalt to be hauled. And they paid for the crew to set it there.

These are our resources, this is our money, and it flows from one part to another. From one person to another.

I find a lot of Malaysians laugh at my face when I tell them the invisible things we have to pay. These are people who download pirated movies. People who avoid taxes. These people use everything everyone else paid for, but have the audacity to try and be cute and get away with not paying.

Sometimes, there are reasons. PTPTN, for instance. I had a huge problem with their customer service at one point. They acted as if they were monkeys yelling at other monkeys to pay up. I hated them for years, but my last official dealing with them was pleasant, and I am well on my way to finish paying the loan. I paid RM300 bucks a month for three or four years already, plus 5K three years ago. And I made sure it's by a monthly cheque, so I would have double paper trails should the dogs of PTPTN who hounded me over the phone years ago decided to try and steal my money by claiming I never paid them.

My bank advised me to use monthly cheques, paying them 5 bucks a month so I would have this security of double paper trails. If there are liars and douchebags in PTPTN - whom I encountered over the phone years ago - I am ready for them.

I pay my PTPTN loan because I understand and accept that if I don't, the generation after me might have problems funding their increasingly expensive education. The MoE or Government can't conjure money out of thin air.

I don't have money currently and the only thing I can do is abide by the rules I agree to. I refuse to be a monkey, and this is the only way I know on how to avert total destruction.

I queue up. I do not vandalise public property - okay, I litter a bit. I pay for what I can, and what I should. I refuse to be part of an entitled generation. As if the world owes me a living. And I'm not talking about Gen Y. The Baby Boomers are the ones largely responsible for an entitled mentality. That things should come free. That money should drop down from the sky and wipe their asses.

My only worry is that these days, I find myself to be the ONLY mature and responsible adult in Malaysia. Everyone else wants to be kids. Some of them want to be monkeys. Racist, stupid, irresponsible, fucking bullshit monkeys.

I'm not just talking about politicians and people in control of power and/or wealth - they are all evil monkeys. I'm also putting responsibility on the group of people who made this all possible - you. You who have created a stupid, superstitious, unscientific, egotistical monkey society. You who have cut queues, both figuratively and literally. You who have no problems calling everyone else racist but have yet to realise your own racism. You who pretend to be good and pious, but in essence are less honourable than a prostitute fucking a dog. And what's wrong with fucking a dog? It's non-consensual, bitch!

You have no fucking idea how many stupid fucking monkeys come up to me and judge me with their stupid little monkey brains that I am exactly like them. With the exact same insecurities and fears. They think the little tricks they do is enough to fool me or anyone else for that matter. It is extremely insulting and condescending for them to think that their stupid little monkey tricks are bulletproof when they're as transparent as a hooker's nylon panties.

I do not hate you idiots. Nor do I love you. I don't care. I have stopped caring when I was eight years old and realised I was in a swamp and that the whole world is a swamp.

And thus, I believe that the future for Malaysia is one of wanton destruction and murder. Blood will flow freely on the streets. Monkey blood. I hope I'd have died long before then.

Intermission: Hard Rain

I was pissed off in November because I couldn't push my brain and my work 100%. Things were in limbo and I was playing a waiting game. Not by choice.

Suddenly, things start to change. Now, I am in a situation I know all too well - one man with an army of work in front of me. There are others with me, but who will remain standing in the trenches after all is said and done? We shall see. It's time to be that guy again.

Meanwhile, Kuantan is flooded. Again. This happens every single year, for as long as I could remember (1983. I was three years old and the first few memories were of rain and lying snug in my parents' bed).

There was a legendary flood in the late '70s. One more around several years ago. This flood, though, this 2013 flood, is probably the worst.

Water levels have risen very close to my house, which sits atop a small hill. The swamp is catching up to us.

I check with my mother almost every day, except today - too busy today and need my sleep.

This week, I have never had a full night's sleep, often going to bed only around 4am or 6am and waking up around 8am. Not that I couldn't sleep - I just have too much work, and it will pile on even higher.

Which is why I will do two things:

1. I need to sleep this weekend.
2. I will train other people.

Over the years, I have acquired skills that I replicate from other people. The result is a unique combination. I need to get other people to have similar skills so I can go to Thailand and have fun without worrying about any ongoing project.

Unfortunately, over the years, no one has shown an interest in learning anything. Or they are incapable of doing so, due largely to the aversion to work. My style is huge amounts of work that other people are usually intimidated by. Not many are keen to do work, but like to sit around and talk about times when they thought they were diligent. Some people revel in the amount of money they managed to scam. I take pride in earning every single cent either through my immense brain - I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century - or via pounding at something until it doesn't move.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's another proposal to write.

Racism is for Those Who Have Given Up

I have not given up.

I hate people, but I refuse to believe that racists are the norm rather than the exception. I want to believe.

So. When you girls who are neither Malay nor Chinese see me walking, please sit down, cover your moist vaginas, and start making intelligent conversation with me.

I will judge you based on your soul, your brain and your lithe body. I wanna fuck you in the ass.