Monday, February 28, 2011

Making use of everyday technicalities

Opinions can be changed.

Good impressions turn ugly quite easily on any one of a multitude of factors which include ice-cream supply, gravitational pull, seasons, temperature, toothache, headache, vodka shots, fat count, car trouble, chocolate storage, dehydration, Monday blues, Tuesday tantrums, Wednesday Woes, Thursday tetchiness, melancholy, high blood pressure, erratic mood swings, sugar levels, anxiety, satisfied cravings, pig-headed drivers, unplanned detours, egg-shell skulls and the easy culprit, PMS.

It's harder to change a bad impression to a good one once the bad has been cemented akin integrated water-repellent nanobonds.

Harder, but not impossible.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Very Sangat

I very sejuk in my bilik;
Sik mok pake my jacket.

My jari freezing.
Kaki cramping.
Pake slipper.
Juga stocking.

Teh panas sudah beku
A-pa-la-gi my kuku?

Ni bukan global warming,
Only kamek suka snowing.
Hujan outside very strong,
Tapi dalam pun sik warm.

Very fun madah ini
Mun sik paham,
pergilah study.

No way back

As an assumed citizen of Rightpondia, there are certain things of Leftpondia that I simply cannot - through either stubbornness, lack of practice or sheer habit - adopt.

Agreeing that the orange, opaque, oval is both a toe-MAH-toe and a toe-MAY-toe is about as close as it gets to crossing the great divide.

And surely, chips and french fries are not merely "same difference"??? Isn't that tantamount to calling the President a member of the Royal family?

Maybe it's not about being British. Maybe it's just me.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

I said it

Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition Sedition

Wow. A whole blog on sedition. I mean, with THIS MUCH sedition, there must surely be some secret anti-government, racist code in it. Get cracking.

Kiss the Rain (no, NOT the Korean singer)

I like the unstoppable momentum of water. How it slows even the fastest things down in its route to earth and merges as a destructible force held back only by heaven-bound tension. Victoria Falls in its native tongue, goes by the name Mosi-o-Tunya which means the "Smoke that Thunders." Immediately the mind is brought to biblical narratives where God often booms through clouds or smoke. Whilst before, when I read bits about God talking through smoke I thought of choked-up, red eyes stinging over a barbecue pit or Mushu (see Mulan) doing his shadow-puppet impressions, now I wonder whether I should interpret it in light of a Carybdis of drowning endlessness with Death and Life on every side. Despair and Hope. Wretchedness and Holiness. Judgment and Redemption pulling in equal parts threatening to separate matter from matter and mind from thought. That the overwhelming Chaos be contained by Absolutes is too much for our feeble minds to imagine let alone comprehend. The closest literary equivalent that springs to mind would be A Descent into the Maelstrom created by Poe.

I like the rain....

Even if I nearly drove into the drain today because my car wipers decided not to function as I turned into Deshon road. Thank goodness for humour in the worst situations.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Read read read

I suppose we really should applaude the bullsh bullishness of the Malaysian ego. On one hand, heck it's good to stand up to em guns-blazing superpowers, eh? But on the other hand, the Malaysian Government's finger-pointing, mud-slinging, floor-gazing, "He dunnit" is reaching its saturation point. I agree with Mallot that we are a patient lot and that the reality copying Transformers fiction "Battle in Egypt; Rise of the Fallen" will probably not happen in Malaysia. We're a bit more kiasu and would prefer it if our window-jammed Protons were left unscratched by Rais' 2 cents. Unfortunately being sarcastic or caustic or throwing barbed comments at intended 'victims' won't be of much use as the inhabitants of Putrajaya are probably thicker than a ...  ... ... I was going to say "doorknob" but that might undermine the colossal mass I intend to emphasise. Malaysian politicians are much like Pinocchio; they lie, are block headed and believe in the blue fairy. Laughing might help persuade them that we think they're idiots but given previous observations of duller-than-wood characteristics and delusional stalwartness, I think they would sooner soak in the cesspool of their achievements than stand on the sidelines to appreciate the miracle of Victoria falls.

Writer Umar Mukhtar is eloquent and if he would let me dig his brains I'm sure mine would be enhanced and enriched but the following excerpt is something I can't agree with.

"When a “Mandarin speakers only” requirement is stated in job advertisements, even for jobs which do not conceivably require much language skills, that surely is equivalent to saying “Chinese only”. But you will be hard put to find any Chinese who would admit that the practice is racially discriminatory."

With all due respect, as a Chinese, I wouldn't go looking for a job that requires "Mandarin speakers only." My Indian friend who speaks fluent mando however, would. Neither would I sue for discrimination if I failed to get a job at Sin Chew Jit Poh. That's an American trait. Oh sorry, I meant North American. No I meant, genderless, raceless, non and undenominational, bland, uninteresting, extreme, homogenous, characterless, intolerant, intolerable, Cultural Marxists. URGH!!!

Monday, February 21, 2011

Privacy

Amazing isn't it, the dishes one can scoop from online research? Should it change perception? Well, whether it should or not I believe it does. And then the judge shall be judged and the damn be condemned, the light shall take flight and the scum just complain. With detached curiosity, study in-depth. in-dwelling facets and pieces through the frame of an exoskeleton, with disinterest and distance to deride and study, to allow the metamorphosis of time to sink beneath the skin and leach into vitals, contaminating, changing, transforming the heavenly into the hideous through the breathless beauty of decay. Pushing boundaries.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

60 round bottles

60 round bottles sitting on the wall
60 round bottles sitting on the wall
One falls down *oh no* and....

.....and.....

.....and.....

hmmm.....

interesting

and doesn't break...

60 round bottles sitting on the wall

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Excerpt

Me: what dance does a cow do?

Tyng: mooooon walk

Me: hahahahahahahahaha YES
 
Tyng: thank you thank you. i finally got one right

Me: hahahah. remember the transformers ones? or the moses ones?

Tyng: you have a lot lar. all your lame jokes. can join my sis

Me: haha. what do foochow cows eat at chinese new year?

Tyng: what?

Me: mooooo sua

Tyng: hahahaa

Me: what do japanese cows eat with macha? moooooochii

Tyng: hahahaha. mooochiii. me likey

Me: who is the real lion king? moooooofasa. what turns ppl into cows? mooooooonlight

Tyng: are you on a roll?

Me: what do yuppy cows really want? mooooolah.

Tyng: hahaha mooolah! yes yes

Me: what do you call a lawyer cow? moooooter

Tyng: are you getting this from somewhere i don't know?

Me: my brain. my wunnerful expanding creative psychotic brain. i'll end with this one. what do you call cows who can't walk down stairs?
 
Tyng: don't know

Me: normal

Heard it from the Bovine

Q: What do you hear when cows sing?
A: Moosic

Q: What do you call an angry cow?
A: Moooooody

Q: What do Chinese cows eat on their birthday?
A: Moooooncake

Q: What is the breakfast of champion cows?
A: Moosli

Q: What do you call a migrating cow?
A: Moover

Q: What do cows plaster their kitchen floor with?
A: Moosaic

Q: What exercise do cows offer investors?
A: A bullrun

Q: What did mother cow say to father cow when he said his whole herd was coming for dinner?
A: That's a load of bull

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Futile resistance

I went for my rounds today in the park.
Maybe lost 1/890th of a pound.
Felt good.
Went home for bird-sized dinner and green tea.
Felt better.
Opened the fridge.
What. was. that.
Opened the freezer.
WHAT. IS. THIS.
Lindor. Box upon box of quality to-die-for goodness.
All. For. Me.
Pa pops his head round the kitchen.
"Only one a day."

One for the road

TTY TTYL

Says who TTY?

Monday, February 14, 2011

Countdown to BKK

In preparation towards living the hedonic life of beaches, pina colades and deep fried grasshoppers, albeit briefly, MCD (no association with that super-sized-free-toy coporation giant) ran their second discussion last night. To ensure that there will be no colour clashes with each other and/or with political groups of the age, it has been decided that MCD will be decked in pink and green (enemies of chic) but to avoid looking like dried out strawberry-mint candy canes, a splash of alternating black and white will be used.

Who says fashion and national security can't mix?

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Into the Fyr

If I didn't see it before, I definitely see it now; the I(ntrovert) in me is screaming louder than the E(xtrovert). Either that or being a "socialite" just requires more practice. Sleeping, catching up with Angie and watching rounds of Cebu Prisoners dance to Michael Jackson (definite must see) on You Tube were more or less the highlights of the week. Having my car rammed by a shopping trolley which in turned banged into a pillar of the Spring because some lazy idiot, lacking civic mindedness and brains, couldn't be bothered to leave it in a more considerate place, poled second lowest with a considerable amount of ranting thrown in. Which leaves the top spot in scathing glory.

The _[insert race]_ have a long way to go in combatting sexual repression. No, I'm not going to elaborate further except to say to certain egocentric factions that although this may come as a surprise to you, there actually are people in this world who appreciate what's in your head rather than what's in your pants. Really. Egad!

Friday, February 11, 2011

V-Day crackdown

Dating a JAKIM (the Malaysian Islamic Development Department ) officer shouldn't be too hard this Valentine's Day. After all, since they'll probably be sprawling fanatically waiting patiently all over the place in obvious sin-inducing locations romantic spots and fine dining areas trying to catch people in love compromising situations, one of them might be smart enough to take me out to dinner to blend in as an undercover agent whilst feeding a hungry person at the same time. I wonder what "compromising situation" entails.

Just imagine, candles in hazy glow, violins humming, the (insert favourit food here) is wrenching your stomach juices to masochistic bliss, the mood is set...... Suddenly red lights flash furiously and sirens blare with a whine that sounds live a lovelorn bitter female. The candles are sitting limp in a pool of H2O-tainted oil, having being put out by the water sprinkler that like a sprite, lives solely to dampen the moment

Customers look around curiously, not sure whether to leave the restaurant that has turned victim of retribution having not settled payment for its subscription of Murphy's Law digest or stay to rescue the fillet mignon that has been given a second chance at life, swimming in a lake of watered down garlic butter. The A-Team SWAT JAKIM Team bursts through the oak-panelled kitchen doors with enough fire power to take down the Bakun Dam and makes a mad dash to a corner of the restaurant.

Is there a bomb hidden in the mess of salmon terrine with rosemary baby potatoes? A torch shines into the plate of now broken tumeric wedges, the sea salt lighting up under the glare that could blind Superman, let alone signal him from New Krypton. The leader mumbles into the walkie talkie, gives his assent and two burly JAKIM officers arrest a burqa-abaya-clad woman and a wild-eyed young man. "We didn't DO anything!" the young man terrified, blurts out.

The leader, clearly a meglomaniac who didn't score with the highschool cheerleader, breathes heavily into his Darth Vader-isqe mask and slowly enunciates the reason for this humiliation. "Did you or did you not, share a potato wedge?"

Given that this is Malaysia, I frankly wouldn't be surprised if couples were coerced into said compromising situation and then caught just so that JAKIM can announce that their Ops Sikap version for Budaya Kuning was a success. Admittedly the JAKIM only 'catch" Muslims so what does that have to do with me? Why stick my nose into an 'internal affair' that I am neither privy to nor bound by? Religion aside, it is an avenue for another call to the Government to reform. Forget about the NEP or quotas for now, the Government isn't doing much to nurture the psychological well-being of the Malay community either.

I am not a feminist but I think there's something inherently wrong with a system that allows 14-year old girls to marry 40-year old men; a system that condemns fornication but allows negligent husbands to beat or abandon their wives and young children; a system that ignores human rights in favour of religious bigotry. I'm not saying Islam is at fault, after all, there are different branches under the same umbrella, maybe some teachers are not exactly doing a very good job at discipling. Just show me where it says in the Quran that the wife is to be a perpetual doormat. The least they could do is enforce the same moral grounds on both sexes.

According to the Star, "In August last year, Nasrudin said that Valentine’s Day and New Year celebrations were among the major causes of baby dumping in Malaysia as both occasions had encouraged liberal socialising and free sex." Nasrudin is the PAS Youth Chief. The UMNO Youth Chief is no smarter: read here.

When we have such wonderful examples of intelligence representing Malaysia to the world, is there any need to defend ourselves anymore? Probably Nasrudin likens himself to the self-righteous Prospero after reading Shakespeare's Tempest and the rest of us "morally-deprived" creatures smearing his hallowed island are like Caliban, our sole aim being to permeate the soil with our progeny. Yes, that must be it.

Thank goodness there are people in Malaysia sane and calm enough to speak up. I end with the following excerpt which forms part of a letter by one Eunice Wong, writtten to the Star following JAKIM's antics.

“Sinful activities can happen anytime at any place, not only on Valentine’s Day, and most importantly not in Malaysia only. To not let it be a sinful outcome, one must have self-control, a conscience, fear of God and above all discipline and the simple knowledge of the true meaning of Valentine’s Day. Yes, I agree with SIS (Sisters-in-Islam) that there are more pressing matters to be dealt with instead of focussing on becoming a “moral police.” It is sad that a celebration so simple and family oriented should have such a negative impact on some. To me, it is to each his own. Everything is in one’s hand. Should unwarranted incidents happen, why blame Valentine’s Day or any celebration or holiday? We must remember God has given us the capability to think and make choices. Let us make the right ones and not tarnish the true meaning of any celebration in this blessed country of ours."

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Poster girl

She's pretty in pink or purple or green
Doesn't so much walk, as much as she springs
The whole world's good, she's got God in a twirl
I bet she is some poster girl

She's sensational and two-dimensional
Spaced out and intolerable
*Gutted* that she's not in my world
She's your regular, Barbie, poster girl

There is just no chemistry
Fat chance with biology
Her voice makes my fingers curl
Can't stand that airhead poster girl

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

Calling for CNY3-2-1(1)

You might be forgiven for thinking that CNY3-2-1(1) reads like a plane or train ticket; it just so happens that Chinese New Year this year falls on February the third and once again I am trying to keep my feet free from shifting sand.

Chinese New Year but I don't feel very Chinese.
Chinese New Year and I don't feel new.
Chinese New Year; it's been about year since I decided to come home and 10 since I lived and celebrated CNY in my hometown.
Has anything changed?

In some ways there has been plenty of change and plenty of "new." It only takes 15 minutes to get to work and I can park right at the doorstep of my workplace. Because I can park right at my doorstep, I can make opportunity to wear ridiculously high heels. I don't have to think about what to eat for dinner or when to send my clothes for cleaning. But there is more to being home than experiencing creature comforts.

Being home is almost akin to a litmus test. After conducting experiments across cultures and continents, my hypothesis was that digging deep into my hometown would prove that "this is where I am meant to be even if I don't feel like it." What I discovered however, is that you can't put a simple hypothesis on emotional experience, intellectual expansion and character reconstruction. I thought that Kuching would get the travelling blues out of me. I thought to accept homecoming meant to accept finality; to be at the 'last frontier.' I thought to accept my past meant leaving behind the future.

Despite my liking routine, there is still that lingering restlessness I have yet to rid; the same insistent impulse of fleeing that has both haunted me and driven me across the world. That Disney (or these days Pixar) given itch for adventure and finding some brave new world out there. How does one know what one is looking for when one has never seen it? And even if one has found this new Krypton, how long can something new remain new? More so, is it important that it remain new every morning or that everything new remain a novelty?

Perception and expectations have also altered in drastic and inexplicable ways to such an extent that I am no longer capable of reacting in a way that is probably expected or assumed of me; the way I would a lifetime before. It's simply "not me" anymore which leaves confusion in wake yet I have no desire to try explain it. It is hard communicating change as change is happening just as it is hard writing current events with historial hindsight. Am I satisfied learning how to study a single diamond from every different facet or do I want to keep searching for more and more diamonds, to achieve the art of learning how to view them from different facets? I suppose you could say, one is the art of studying the diamond and the other, the art of learning how to study the diamond.

I have indeed found serendipity and as is the nature of serendipity, most unexpectedly. My initial reason for returning never calculated or expected the product it has borne but my character would never have evolved the way I thought it could had I not returned home. Bittersweet? Maybe, but I hold no regrets.