Personal Contact: Observations of I

It's Official...

2010-08-02T04:18:00.001-07:00

This country still has the unrivaled ability to depress me. Two years and still there are some things I don't miss.

6669

2010-05-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

Everything comes apart if you find the strand.

Picks of the Week: Fifty Six

2010-01-03T14:16:00.001-08:00

The Argument Against: I vaguely remember the furor that occurred several years ago –late 2007, I believe- when the then Home Minister of Malaysia banned the usage of the term ‘Allah’ by a local Christian publication. The issue must not have struck me as having any particular import for I cannot remember if I had a specific position on the controversy. Ah, the follies of my youth and political naivete. But the appeals system of any judicial system has the distinct advantage of allowing even fools like me a second crack at picking sides. On New Year’s Eve, the High Court of Malaysia ruled that the ban on the usage of ‘Allah’ by The Herald was unconstitutional. Now, the tapestry that is Malaysian society would not be quite as colorful or as interesting without its usual histrionics. So, in the wake of the ruling there were the customary demonstrations by advocacy groups, fist-wringing by religious leaders and even the establishment of a Facebook group which counts one polarizing columnist as well as a deputy Minister as its members.

Central to the argument for the imposition of such a ban is the exclusive association between the term ‘Allah’ and the religion of Islam. According to this argument, non-Muslims should not be allowed to utilize the term ‘Allah’ especially in circumstances when the term is used to reference a non-Muslim deity because the reference would be misleading to Muslims who commonly associated ‘Allah’ with the Muslim God. Even former Prime Minister Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad has weighed in on the issue by suggesting that the usage of ‘Allah’ by non-Muslims might be abused by parties who do not fully reflect the views of Islam. The culmination of these factors would then lead to discord between Muslims and non-Muslims.

On the other side of this issue is the Catholic Church of Malaysia who publish the Herald. The Church argues that the term ‘Allah’ has historically been and still is used by East Malaysian Christians to refer to God. This is a practice that even pre-dates the inclusion of the East Malaysian states into Malaysia. In addition to that, the Church has argued that the term ‘Allah’ is used by adherents of Abrahamic religions –including Muslims, Christians and Jews- worldwide to refer to God. Thus, Muslims have no exclusive claim to the usage of the term.

Legal arguments are beyond the scope of my humble knowledge; but there are several important issues central to this debate. The first pertains to the exclusivity of the term ‘Allah’. I submit that in many cultures –especially in the West- ‘Allah’ is almost synonymous with the religion of Islam. However, it is also important to note that ‘Allah’ is the standard Arabic word for a monotheistic deity, God. Thus, for many, ‘Allah’ is no more specific to a religion than ‘car’ is to a particular build or model.

In addition to that, we must also consider if the long-standing historical usage of the term ‘Allah’ by Muslims entitles them to some form of property rights in regulating the usage of the word by non-Muslims. Is the basis of this right merely a function of time? For if it is, then an equally compelling argument can be made by the Eastern Malaysian Christians who have long worshipped under the name of ‘Allah’ to be allowed to continue with their practice. In comparing time based rights, what makes one claim stronger than another? Do others have greater claims to citizenship and all of its privileges simply because they are older or have been in the country longer than I have? And even more importantly, should rights even be determined based on any time scale? If it should, then doesn’t an illegal immigrant who has resided in a country for over two decades and who has established strong social ties to the local community have a greater claim to citizenship than a new-born infant? It is on this logic that I reject a claim of exclusivity based on historical use.

There is also a parallel rights argument that compels our attention, that of the freedom of expression by the Catholic Church. Contained in this right is the ability of the Church to effectively and freely spread their religious message to the masses so long as this is conducted in a manner that does not violate the rights of others. If a subsection of their congregation practices religion in the Christian tradition, adhering to all of the religions beliefs and teachings, then the Church has in its interests, the role of nurturing and encouraging the actions of this subsection. In this instance, this role entails the publication of a newsletter in which terminology most familiar to the congregation is employed: ‘Allah’. There is no inherent contradiction between the word ‘Allah’ and Church teachings –the authorization of the term by an official Church sanctioned publication says as much. This is merely a semantic device for the dissemination of Church doctrine. There is plenty of historical examples of religious evangelism in which evangelicals of all religious persuasions spread their teachings in foreign languages. The Government has argued that in the Malay language, there are many translations for God other than ‘Allah’ that are perceived as less Islam specific. Yet this argument misses the point of using ‘Allah’ specifically. ‘Allah’ is employed not only because the Church has deemed the term consistent with its teachings but also because its Malay speaking followers have historically referred to God using this term. By forcing the Church to preach to its congregants in terms unfamiliar to them circumscribes the ability of the Church to properly fulfill its role vis-a-vis its believers. If believers do not fully associate themselves with the teachings –some steeped in centuries of worship- then they begin to question their faiths. This would be a violation of the freedom of expression that the Church –as a religious group- is entitled to constitutionally.

But let us assume for the sake of argument that the Arabic word ‘Allah’ has always referred to an Islamic God. Then, do we not have a duty to ensure that the word whenever employed, is employed to reflect its true sense? For in religion, where textual purity and sanctity is imperative to protect its foundations, we should not tolerate deviations that discredit the true teachings of our prophets. Censorship would then ward off the ‘abuse’ that Tun Dr Mahathir referred to. Even this argument I resist because censorship does not address the underlying causes of abuse and even if it does, it obligates the Government to a position of mass censorship reductio ad absurdum. Abuse and the mischaracterization of any set of religious beliefs is caused by misinformation and libelous discourse. Common law provides plenty of protection against such violations against freedom of speech. When the Government determines that it must intervene to prevent such abuses, it takes on a proactive position of legislating the conduct of religious groups. While the Malaysian Constitution does contain an Establishment Clause –separation of Church and State- like the US Constitution, Article 11 of the Malaysian Constitution does protect the right of religious groups to manage their own affairs. If the State intention is to preserve the true meaning of words with specific religious connotations, then it must oversee the usage of all religious terms of all religious groups. This would mean the formation of a religious language police that would arbitrate over disputes which pertain to words as opposed to doctrine. When religious debates are reduced to such superficial facets, spiritual growth is almost certainly stunted. And the worst consequence of this censorship is that dissent will be killed swiftly and there will be no improvement in our understanding of important issues. I refer you to the writing of Mill for he is a man more eloquent and informed.

Picks of the Week: Fifty Five

2009-12-27T23:09:00.001-08:00

Anyone who follows the on-goings of the Malaysian media should be sufficiently familiar with a certain Dr. Mohd Ridhuan Tee. The man, in my opinion, can be described as a polemicist at best. Opposition MPs and bloggers frequently take pot-shots at him. Utusan Malaysia, a local daily, likes him enough to make him a columnist. If there ever was someone in the local public sphere akin to Glenn Beck or Ann Coulter, this man would be it.

Now, college education has taught me enough that I try to be fair to the views of others, even to those I find intolerable and distasteful. Dr.Tee most certainly irks me to no end. It’s not merely his hypocrisy of accusing others of the very sectarian politics that he so cavalierly practices that enrages me. It’s also the manner in which he shrouds his speech in pseudo-intellect in order to give it credence that is so repugnant.

Take his latest column in the Utusan Malaysia (here I link his English blog entry). He rather audaciously –and in keeping with the spirit of the Grinch- suggests that we allocate religious holidays and other religious liberties based on the demographical distribution of religious adherents in Malaysia. This point of view shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, considering Dr. Tee is an ardent advocate of the supremacy of Islam in the country. To be fair to his writing, he does support religious tolerance, but takes the view that all other religions must be subordinate to the concerns of Islam and its adherents.

It is only when I try to reconcile this view with the rest of his writing that I am taken back by the inconsistency of his views. In the same column, he argues that the advantages accorded to the religion of Islam are incontrovertible and unquestionable because they are enshrined in the Constitution and agreed upon under the Social Contract. Bear in mind, Dr.Tee has a BA in Political Science and holds a PhD in Politics and Government. His credentials should convince the casual observer that his utilization of the term ‘Social Contract’ aptly encapsulates the primacy of Islam. But being the incorrigible fool that I am, I am not taken in by his academic superiority. I am but a lowly undergraduate student, but even a pauper is allowed to accost a prince. I wonder to myself then: what Social Contract is he referring to? For the Constitution most certainly doesn’t explicitly state the existence of a Social Contract of any sort. If he is referring to Article 153 of the Constitution that grants special privileges to Malays, he would be looking under the wrong rock. That Article sure gives a lot of privileges to Malays. It mentions scholarships, positions in the public service and even permits and licenses. But there is no mention of religion at all. The constitution in Article 3 does say that Islam is the religion of the country, but it also mentions that everyone has a right to practice and profess her religion (Article 11). At this point, I am desperately seeking textual evidence to support Dr.Tee’s claim that the citizens of this nation and its forebears have agreed under some “contract” to the supremacy of Islam over other religions. In fact, I am eager to informed as to the Constitutional provision under which our religious liberties are to be distributed according to demographics.

On the other hand, Article 11 explicitly protects the rights of religious groups to manage their own affairs, to establish and maintain institutions for religious and charitable purposes as well as to acquire and own property and to hold and administer it in accordance with law. As an ode to state neutrality, Article 11 also states that no one can be coerced or compelled to pay taxes the proceeds of which are to be allocated in full or partially to financing a religion other than her own. In his article, Dr.Tee observes the vast burial grounds owned by non-Muslims in the country and applauds the munificence of the majority for allowing such tracts of land to be owned by the religious minorities. Yet, he also laments the shortage of land area and speculates on the sustainability of their generosity. I do not know what is implicit in this discourse of his, but I hope that he is not suggesting the expropriation of land from religious minorities in an attempt at redistribution. That would be a blatant violation of property rights as well as a violation of the Constitution itself. But an informed academe such as him would surely not propose abuse as flagrant as that.

The State most certainly does not have an obligation to its citizens to provide for equal resources to each and every religious group. But it also has no business interfering in practice of such religions especially when it is conducted in accordance with the provisions set out in the Constitution. When pedagogues are granted very public platforms to make controversial and highly suggestive comments about religion in the country, the public sphere is muddied by inaccurate and contradictory claims. This has the effect of binding us in a continuous cycle of facile and uninformed arguments. Why do we allow ourselves to be fractured so easily by these enemies of the State?

Picks of the Week: Fifty Four

2009-09-01T19:23:00.001-07:00

The Argument Against: It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything under this heading. I must make an effort to do so more often. I came across this report by AP regarding a secretly shot video within a large poultry farm; the contents of which I can only describe as disturbing. It shows male chicks –yes, tiny yellow cute chicks- being killed because they don’t lay eggs and they don’t develop quickly enough to yield much meat. I’m embedding the video below. While it’s not extremely graphic, you may or may not find it disturbing. I would advise discretion when viewing it.

I’ve seen my share of animal cruelty videos in addition to documentaries detailing factory farming practices. I’ve read numerous articles and editorials explaining why we should turn into vegetarians. These are far too many to list in one blog post. But I will share this article written by the supremely intelligent Peter Singer. While he didn’t coin the term, Dr.Singer has been one of the most influential academics to speak out against speciesism, which is basically discrimination based on species. His article is a good starting point because he argues using both practical and philosophical positions, which makes the content very lucid and accessible.

However, I am not left without doubts as to his ultimate position. He argues midway through the article that we should not treat animals as mere objects, ignoring their interests in exchange for our benefit. There is more than a tinge of Kantian reasoning in this argument, in that we should not treat others as mere means but we should regard them as ends of themselves. But not more than a few lines later, when addressing the morality of consuming even any meat at all, he makes a consequentialist prescription: that we should act in a manner that would reduce or contribute the least to animal suffering. Most basic moral philosophy courses teach that Kantian ethics and consequentialist ethics such as utilitarianism are contradictory. Of course, there are notable exceptions –my professor thinks that Kant was actually a consequentialist and even wrote a book on it. But the disconnect lies therein –and I simplify the argument greatly: if all beings are to be treated equally as ends and never as means, how can it be that we should act in a manner that determines good based on an aggregate of utility; a system that clearly advocates the welfare of the many, at the expense of the few or even the individual. And more importantly, on a practical level, if we accept the Kantian conception of meat consumption, would it mean that in all circumstances it would be immoral to consume meat or meat products? I may have butchered Singer’s arguments. Let me know if so. Best if I get my hands on a copy of Animal Liberation.

Picks of the Week: Fifty Three

2009-08-25T06:50:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Exactly a year ago at approximately this time, I boarded a series of flights that would take me through Singapore, Japan, Chicago in the US and finally into Portland, Maine. Since then, I have not seen my home. I remember that night at the airport, not a tinge of fear inside of me. I was about to leave my home of twenty years for a country halfway across the globe but instead of fear, I felt excitement. As I walked into the departure hall, pass the security checkpoint, I didn't even turn back to glimpse my family for one last time. It was a single-mindedness that even I did not realize, but one that never escapes the attention of a mother. I wonder if my parents, watching from above as the back of my frame moved away further in distance, wished that I would turn and wave. But the farewells I wanted to say had been said and the ones that were unspoken would have a lifetime to explain themselves.

It's a been a full year since that night. Happy anniversary.

Picks of the Week: Fifty Two

2009-08-24T17:10:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: So, a day after reading this groundbreaking expose by The Star regarding purchased paper qualifications –seriously, it’s an open secret that our dear friends at the daily only recently thought would merit their journalistic attentions- I stumble across this report on a similar degree for sale scheme in Germany. As with most dodgy degree boutiques, you can even get a doctoral degree for a price. This I find out a week after discovering that in Germany, it’s not illegal to masturbate or have sex while driving. Really gives rise to the notion that Germany is the coolest place on Earth.

Also, as a matter of detail, one of the degree mills mentioned in The Star’s report is the impressively named European Business School Cambridge of European Union. Who in their right mind would want a degree from a place with that name? Please take note, if you want to set up a degree selling scam, at least take some initiative and come up with properly good names –or at least ones that make sense grammatically.

Picks of the Week: Fifty One

2009-08-20T18:29:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: School’s about to start in just over two weeks. I’m actually really nervous about the upcoming year. Worries, worries, worries…what’s a young boy to do.

One solution is to laugh. It’s actually my favorite solution. And with the advent of the Internet, it’s become easier and cheaper to finds laughs. For instance, this gem by Frank Barney during a town hall meeting. Seriously, the man is just saying what we’re all –well, most of us- thinking. Honesty is fucking hilarious sometimes.

Picks of the Week: Fifty

2009-08-17T09:42:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Doing the mundane causes the mind to wander. Inevitably the mind wanders to matters that cause longing and sadness: like home and lost opportunities. My summer parched lips tastes of anxiety and regret; flavors I'm all too eager to avoid. Half a century of posts and I return to where I've always been: a state of maudlin.

Picks of the Week: Forty Nine

2009-08-11T19:23:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: I’ve decided to ditch the frumpy old skin and give the blog a cleaner look. Hope the aesthetics pleases all. Anyway, the background image on the header is a custom image, one that I altered substantially to achieve that look. First person to guess correctly what the original image is wins a free meal from me.

The summer is winding down and I am loathe to let it go. Most of all, I fear the upcoming academic semester. I just want to avoid the abject academic defeat that I experienced only months ago. The screw tightens and the structure threatens to give.

Been trying to follow the details of the Teoh inquiry back home. For interested parties with several hours worth of free time, you can access the court recordings here. One of the most memorable lines comes from Gobind Singh very early in the proceedings: “It [Guidelines] says that the inquest should be prompt. It does not say that the inquest has to be immediate”. Boom, he layeth the rhetorical smackdown. I really need to stop being such a dork.

Picks of the Week: Forty Eight

2009-08-08T23:39:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: It’s 1.42 in the morning right now. Outside, the dark night is punctuated by a few streetlights and the urgent amber blinking above a cross walk. Tonight’s a cold night and a chilly breeze blows through the window. I’ve lost count of how many nights just like this one that I’ve been through this summer. Some of those nights have left me feeling lonely and confused. But tonight, I don’t feel that way. Tonight, I’m at peace with myself. I’m at peace with who I am and I’m at peace with where I am. Tonight, I’m comfortable.

It’s hard to believe that last weekend, at this time, I was asleep in the basement of some run-down house in the middle of Washington, DC. That trip was so special. It started off in an interesting enough manner too. The night before the morning I was due to fly down to DC, I decided it would be a good idea to drink with my friends. I got about 2 hours of sleep that night, on account of the throbbing headache that I went to bed with. At 4am, I woke up and spent the next hour or so brushing my teeth, showering, throwing up or any combination of the aforementioned. At the end of that hour, I began to have serious doubts regarding the feasibility of my trip. The inside of my head felt like tiny explosions going off, frying all of my nerve senses. At approximately 5.25am, I tried to throw up out of a moving vehicle. A certain portion along the I-95 may still bear evidence of Friday night’s drinks. By the time I cleared airport security, I had sworn repeatedly to commit myself to a life of teetotalism. And in an act of absolute desperation, I may have promised God that I would be a good Christian if he’d only take my hangover away.

The rest of the trip, thankfully, wasn’t as painful. Well except for the sore feet that both myself and Tim ended up every evening. We went to all the places that tourists would usually visit: National Archives, the White House (or at least the fence surrounding it), the US Congress, the US Supreme Court, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, several of the Smithsonian Museums, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial and most of the Constitution Gardens. Along the way, I fell in love with the DC Metro system, made inappropriate but possibly accurate comments about Anifah Aman and pretended to be on friendly terms with Nicholas Cage.

The highlight of the trip has to be when we got Senate Gallery passes to watch the Monday afternoon session. Sitting in that chamber, watching the Senate proceedings and listening to the speeches was pure awesomeness. It really gave me a sense that I was privy to some spectacular aspect of the American government machinery. Little did we know as we stood in line to enter the US Congress while joking about bumping into someone famous like John McCain that we would actually be privileged enough to sit maybe 70meters away from the once Presidential nominee that afternoon. He gave a speech on Sonya Sotomayor -or should I say, Justice Sotomayor- before launching into a long list of amendments on an agriculture bill that was being discussed. Something about federal earmarks on wild turkey research and noxious weeds in Nevada. The man is also really as short as he looks on TV. Besides him, we were also treated to speeches by a host of Senate veterans: Harry Reid, Sam Brownback (who was very unhappy about the idea of relocating Gitmo detainees to Fort Leavenworth) as well as some of the younger ones: Tom Udall and Mark Begich (who actually gave his maiden Senate speech on that day). My only regret is that we missed out on the Senate’s confirmation vote on Justice Sotomayor by 3 days. It would have been a rare privilege to watch history being made, but alas, c’est la vie.

The US Supreme Court tour was also brilliant. It was short but sweet. Sitting in the same courtroom in which nine Justices preside over the laws of the country is an experience one may never forget. I guess that’s what makes DC so special. I tried to explain it to my mother earlier this evening but my words are rarely able to communicate the feelings I have. Walking on such hallowed ground, keenly aware of the history and tradition that exist within those walks, watching and listening the people who are now the standard-bearers of such legacies, one gets the feeling that all is possible within this tiny enclave. It restores hope in the ideal that people, if they collect their efforts, can overcome any obstacle and that no hardship will ever equal the sum of human will. Perhaps I am young and naive, unaware of how the internal politics of DC is seldom glamorous and rarely inspiring. But even now, as I sit hundreds of miles away from DC, I still feel a deep admiration for those who find it in themselves to wake up in the morning with the unquestionable certitude that their vocation has meaning and that their work is worthwhile. If this is what it feels to be filled with the urge to create a more perfect union for our country, then I hope that everyone is blessed enough to hold on to this feeling and never let go.

I’m glad I went to DC for 4 days, if only for the things that place reminded me of.

Music that suits this evening:

Picks of the Week: Forty Seven

2009-07-22T06:33:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Another night, another strange dream. Except this one was unique in how visceral the experience was. There was a girl, a very pretty girl. And a poem, the full contents of which I cannot remember. But it was supposed to be a prophecy for her: that the person who spends the opening moments of a new day would be her love. And then there was me, sitting by her side as the sunrise illuminates the darkness around us, but only just, much like the shallow flickering of a torch in a cave. She kisses me, deep and long, before telling me that she’s never spent the entire night with another person before. And then she leaves, but does not say why. There is a baby girl, no more than two years old. Her skin is fair and smooth, like many other babies. Yet she radiates with an inner light that I have never seen before in any other child. I call her my sister and indeed she responds. My heart is heavy with the loss of the mysterious girl and it cannot shoulder the burden of that pain. I cry; uncontrollably and disconsolate. I cry out for my sister; I cry out to her. My sadness is so deep, I weep on the ground, bent over my knees as I am winded by my grief. My sister comes to me. With her infant frame, and hands so tiny and pure, she takes my face into her arms and I fall upon her shoulders. My pathetic weeping stops and the pain recedes. In that moment, there is nothing but my sister and the comfort she brings. I enter a tunnel and all that surrounds me fall into an indiscernible noise. All my awareness is focused on the child that I hold, the beauty of her face, the tender of her touch, the fierceness of her embrace and the pain that no longer is. My sister, how is it that you take away my sadness?

***

I have no idea what my dream meant. Are there any Freudian dream analysts who would like to offer their thoughts? I’m still reeling from the absurdity of the events. First, there’s no such thing as a prophecy of love. That’s Hollywood bullshit and I ought to be ashamed of myself for even allowing such a notion into my dreams. Secondly, that pretty girl isn’t even someone I know. I’ve never met her in my life. That she’s pretty is undeniable. But I’m still trying to place that face. Thirdly, I definitely don’t have a sister. And if it turns out that I do, Mr. & Mrs. Wong are going to get an earful from me. Having said that, the dream was pleasant in many other respects as well. I got to kiss a beautiful girl. I’m reminded why I’d like to have a daughter in the future. There is still a part of me that weeps at my sadness. And I’ve not completely forgotten the feeling of a loving embrace. All in all, a night well spent, I’d say. I had a trippy out-of-body experience, and I didn’t even need to spend money on psychedelics.

***

Let’s move on to some music, shall we? Red Light Company is a five piece band from, well, England, Scotland, Wales and Japan-via-Wyoming. I have no idea how I first came to be in possession of their music. Must be one of the dozens of music blogs I frequent. These chaps have created quite a buzz in the UK scene. The Guardian puts them on the same shelf as The Editors and U2 while NME compares them to the Arcade Fire. Their music is alternative rock with a pleasing amount of mass-market appeal. Which means they have a couple of sing-out-loud anthemic gems. The second single of their debut album Fine Fascination, Meccano is a terrific 3:15-minute package of catchy hooks and jubilant choruses. The music belie lyrics that are actually about regret and the reality of change: ‘Crying out loud, the weekend is over’. But if they sing about sad things so well, then who needs happy lyrics. A promising debut overall, and a band that I hope to see much of in the future. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Meccano:

Picks of the Week: Forty Six

2009-07-15T05:34:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Ah, such great news to have hit the music industry. Actually, I’m a little behind in discovering this so I do feel like a proper numpty. Imogen Heap is releasing her new album titled Eclipse on the 24th of August. And she’s been so kind to offer us a sneak preview of the first single of that album. It’s called First Train Home and you can listen to it at Stereogum. I’ve always been a big fan of Ms.Heap, especially since her Frou Frou days. I was rather disappointed that Frou Frou never went beyond that one brilliant album. And it was really pleasant to hear the opening notes of First Train Home evoke memories of that time. Ms. Heap’s music has always been a gentle form of electronic-driven pop but her last effort Speak for Yourself was a lot more experimental in my opinion. First Train Home seems to suggest a return to the more pop-driven, accessible and relaxing tones of her Frou Frou days.

Now if at this point you’re still wondering who this Imogen Heap character is, then I have a simple rubric for your solution. If at any point in your life you’ve seen The O.C., Criminal Minds, CSI: Miami, Ghost Whisperer, Heroes, Garden State, The Holiday or Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe then you’ve heard her music. If you haven’t, you need to get a television and a life.

Finally much ado about the latest decision by the Malaysian government to revert to teaching Science and Math in Bahasa Malaysia. Everyone’s been talking about this, mostly set to the table thumping background cries of ‘Shame! Shame!’. Bah, the polarized nature of Malaysian education policy. I’m a consensus builder. I’ve got a better suggestion. Why don’t we just teach English in Malay and appease both sides of this spectrum. We’ll have classrooms filled with kids going “Teacher, may I please go to the toilet?” To which the teacher will reply, “Boleh. Boleh BELAH!!!”

Picks of the Week: Forty Five

2009-07-14T18:42:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Usually I never find the time to post twice in a day, but I came across this video while mucking around on YouTube. It’s an ad by the BBC to promote their Poetry Season. It’s ridiculously creative and a bloody terrific recital of Blake. How I wish the literacy programs back home had this sort of marketing.

Picks of the Week: Forty Four

2009-07-14T12:20:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Went down to New York for the weekend. It was a really short trip so I managed to only cram in trips to the Bronx Zoo and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the latter of which was the highlight of my trip. That place is impossible to appreciate in a whole day and yet I tried. I’ve never been any good at art nor do I pretend to understand its esoteric features. But I really enjoyed the feeling of walking from room to room, gallery to gallery without any idea what painting would reside in that location or whether I would like any of them. It was like a giant treasure hunt for a treasure that was unknown. And I did discover a few paintings that I really liked. For example:

1. The Dance Class (1874) by Edgar Degas

Loads of Degas’ paintings feature dancers or ballerinas. This one was my favorite of the lot. For me, Degas’ paintings of women or girls give the images a very delicate and stripped down feel.

2. The Organ Rehearsal by Henry Lerolle

(picture courtesy of NYTimes)

Before my visit to the Met, I’d never heard of Lerolle before. When I saw this painting, I remember catching my breathe in amazement. It’s a huge painting, occupying an entire wall, and just terrifically elegant. Discovering this painting has to be one of the highest points of my trip. Some trivia: Lerolle and Degas were friends and were instructed by the same art teacher, Louis Lamothe.

3. Lachrymae by Frederic Leighton

(picture courtesy of artinthepicture.com)

This is another really large painting. The burgundy of the subject’s toga is absolutely captivating in real life. It has a weird sheen that seems to emanate differently from different vantage points. Also, Leighton specifically chose a frame for this painting that resembled a doorway so looking at the painting resembles looking through a doorway.

I couldn’t upload my own photos cause my digital camera is rubbish without the autoflash and they didn’t allow flash photography in the museum. So all my images were fuzzy and blurry. My hands are horribly shaky.

Moving on to other sensory experiences, I had another dream last night that featured an old acquaintance. I wonder why I revisit certain memories of my past. Perhaps it is regret. I was reminded that I could experience emotions I thought were long buried. Even in the artificial surreality of the dream, I’m certain my emotions were real. They were happy and will be affectionately missed.

I’m back to listening to beautiful music. Today’s feature is a young lady named Brooke Waggoner. I rather fortuitously stumbled upon her while playing Tap Tap Revenge 2 on my friend’s Ipod Touch. That game is amazingly addictive and I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it. Anyway, Ms. Waggoner is currently based in Nashville, TN and is signed to Swoon Moon Music, which shows her as their only artist on their roster. Self-formed label, maybe? Anyway, Ms. Waggoner writes most of her songs on the piano first and it shows. The piano and her voice are the strongest and most salient features of her music. In tandem with each other, they are also the prettiest things you’ll hear. The songs are a mix of soft-pop, ballads, indie, adult alternative with some flashes of folk and electronica thrown in. There are songs about love, about disappointment, about heartbreak and about loss. She’s giving away a 6 song EP Fresh Pair of Eyes on her website and has recently released a full-length album, Heal for the Honey.

This video features Heal for the Honey which is the first single off the album. While this may be the single, all the other songs on the album are equally as strong and equally as haunting. It’s moody, restless, melancholic music really. In fact, the first single almost evokes Elizabeth Fraser and Kate Bush. But it’s just so damn appropriate at the moment and so soothing. At night, in the quiet of the dark, with the cold loneliness of the bed heavy upon you, this songbird will lull you into a sleep filled with old acquaintances and distant memories.

Picks of the Week: Forty Three

2009-07-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: 4th of July was interesting. By interesting, I mean it wasn’t completely uneventful. A bunch of us went for a nice dinner, visited the local ‘Liberty Festival’ and climbed the mountain on campus to watch the fireworks. It’s been raining again, after a few nice sunny days. Let’s hope July doesn’t turn into that soggy piece of shit that was June.

I’m blogging at night today. Couldn’t be bothered to do so this morning. My body is powering down already, a consequence of yet another punishing evening session. For the life of me, I cannot understand why I am so damn good at inflicting pain on myself. In desperate need of some cheer, I turn to Two Door Cinema Club, a three piece band hailing from Bangor, North Ireland –not to be confused with Bangor, Wales, home to a university I’ve always been intrigued by. Anyway, I was first introduced to Two Door Cinema Club (TDCC) on Steve Lamacq’s brilliant ‘In New Music We Trust’ show on BBC1. According to their MySpace account, these three boys are currently unsigned but I expect that to change very soon. Why? Well, for one thing, being featured by Steve Lamacq is exposure of unbelievable quality. And for another, these boys make good music. Solidly fun, accessible, and easy to market music. They play upbeat, guitar driven pop music that seems to typify most new indie acts coming out of the UK. Think Friendly Fires but with less electronic distortion, cleaner guitar riffs and a happier disposition. Anyway, TDCC is riding high on my iTunes playlist, especially on days that I am need of a quick pick-me-up. The lead singer has a young voice that can only be described as pleasant. It lends their songs an aura of youth that makes me wish this was the sort of music I grew up to. I’m posting the video of their first single ‘Something Good Can Work’, the track that put them on Steve Lamacq’s radar and ultimately mine.

Picks of the Week: Forty Two

2009-07-02T11:38:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Extraordinarily the weather has contrived to be even worse today. Instead of being just wet and gloomy because of overnight rainfall, it’s been raining all day today. In the past few weeks here, I’ve seen more rain that I can recall in my entire life. Rain like this back home causes flashfloods. If Bangsar was a district in Maine, MidValley Megamall would be an underwater attraction. But let’s move on to the musical tones that today’s weather has brought us.

I’m really tempted to revert to my tried and tested formula of alternative-indie-rock/pop music to reflect the weather. But lest I be accused of not listening to any happy music, I’m going to feature an artist I discovered very recently: Shinichi Osawa. Shinichi Osawa used to be the bassist for some Japanese band called Mondo Grosso, whatever that is. Beyond that, I have no idea what other musical projects he used to be associated with and frankly, who gives a shit. What matter is what he’s doing now and what he will do in the future. The man is a DJ/music producer, put simply. And he’s a terrifically good one for that matter. His latest solo album, The One released in 2007 has some decent material. He plays a good mix of electro-house music and features some good artists on his tracks including some Japan-based talents. But the man excels in his remixes and they have constituted the bread and butter of my admiration for this work.

The single of The One is Star Guitar and features the vocals of the ever lovely Au Revoir Simone. Dance fans will recognize the track as a cover the song originally made famous by The Chemical Brothers. Mr. Osawa lays some serious smackdown by taking a track that wouldn’t be out of place in an airline commercial and terrorizing it into a hip, streetwise electro-rocker. The addition of slick rock riffs that simply harass you to enjoy yourself give the track a really metropolitan style ala New Age skinny jeans and fluorescent colored sneakers. This is the cool face of dance music.

And Mr. Osawa’s remixes all receive this ultra-hip facelift courtesy of his rockstar sensibilities. The use of electric guitars is prominent in almost all of his tracks and he employs them to good effect. Instead of turning already heavily synthesized dance music into alien-sounding gibberish by adding more electronic embellishments, he grounds the sound and makes it more accessible with the adept usage of guitars. That is not to say he doesn’t weave the magic that makes you all fidgety and ADHD in the club, but when he does so, you feel like you’re hanging out in the club where all the cool kids go to, instead of visitors from Mars.

My favorite Shinichi Osawa remix has to be the one he did on Digitalism's Pogo. Once again, Osawa outdoes himself by taking an already catchy-as-hell-and-too-cool-to-be-true track and turns it into a bigger-than-life dance floor groover. Take your ol’lady out and dance the night away to the sound of this monster. Mandatory listening for the musically discerning!

And I just found out that he played in Malaysia earlier this year, right about the time that I was still hungover from the Maine winter. Great, the music scene in Malaysia finally gets an act worth my time and I’m in a foreign country. Just like my goddamn luck…

Picks of the Week: Forty One

2009-07-01T06:15:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: I spy with my little eye, outside my window and across the sky, a horizon without a speck of sunshine, the perfect accompaniment to the troubled mind. Gee…that rhymes. I should copyright it. So, this is day a-number-so-high-I’ve-lost-count of continuous rain and gloom. This has also been my most active period of blogging in a long time. Maybe the two events are correlated. Rain = boredom = bouts of frantic typing? I’m sure this is part of some strange New World therapy.

Yesterday, I highlighted the talents of Greg Laswell. Today I turn my attention –and hopefully yours- to Cara Salimando, a young female singer-songwriter from New Jersey. I first came across Ms. Salimando’s work through the excellent music blog Let Me Like It, which features loads of really talented female voices. Cue the plug for an older and much more informed music blogger. But returning to the topic of Ms. Salimando’s work; this lady can sing. What does she sing about? Love mostly. Some of her songs are about the nicer aspects of love and some of her songs are about the less appealing side of love. Personally, I don’t give a hoot if she starts singing about toy elephants destroying a foreign country. Just as long as she sings. There are a lot of things for me to like about her: one, she plays the piano and sings. Two, she writes her own lyrics. Three, she’s usually compared to Regina Spektor and Fiona Apple. Four, she’s bloody cute-looking. Five, she has a voice that projects conviction. When she sings, you feel like you have no reason to doubt the veracity of her lyrics. You are engulfed by the intent of her words because you feel the sincerity of her voice. And by the end of one song, you wish she would sing another one, just so you can revel in her passion. Why can’t more acts be like her?

Finally, here’s the kicker. She’s only 17 years old. She doesn’t have an album out yet, but she’s signed to Universal Motown. My intuition tells me she is going to be big. Not Rihanna-Britney Spears big. But big enough to take the music world by storm and make millions of fans swoon as she takes the stage.

My favorite song of hers is titled ‘Anything at All’ and you can hear it on her MySpace page. I’m also posting a YouTube video of her performing the song ‘Commonwealth’, simply because it’s new and I love the chord progression in it. Also because I can’t find a video of ‘Anything at All’.

Picks of the Week: Forty

2009-06-30T06:08:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: The cycle of dream laden nights continue. Last night I had a particularly disconcerting one involving an old and once dear acquaintance. I’m beginning to ask questions of my sanity. The weather here isn’t helping either. It’s been raining pretty much everyday since summer started. Damn part of the country is wet and dreary whether it’s winter or not. This doesn’t feel like summer at all. The average wet day is bad enough as it is, but today it’s misty. So outside my window is a view straight out of some eerie movie about medieval witch hangings or Tennyson’s penultimate chapter from Idylls of the King. I wrote a paper once on that chapter. Got a B+ for my troubles. More woe unto this day. But before I digress beyond the point of no return, let’s pick some music to compound, I mean, complement the misery of thee day.

For most fans of indie music, Greg Laswell needs no introduction. For most other people, a few words may be in order. Mr. Laswell is a singer-songwriter from California. His songs blend slow, acoustic sounds with a determined but almost mournful voice. And like most indie artists of contemporary fame, some of his songs were featured in various popular TV series, the staple of disillusioned but media-hungry consumers. Most of his work involve just guitars and/or pianos, so his sound is sparse, thus accessible in many levels. But his lyrics and music arrangement add a level of depth to his work, complicating the characterization of what may have been a regular run-of-the-mill male singer-songwriter with no unique sound. This is not music for all occasions. I would caution against playing his music at your grandmother’s 90th birthday party, for example. I would also not play any of his songs during your weekly Falun Gong meetings. However, on a day like this, wherever you are and whatever it is you are doing, be it suffering the incompetence of public transportation to face another monotonous day at work, or packing up to face a new and exciting chapter of your life, or just staring outside your window at a misty day, thinking of acquaintances past; this is music for you.

You may recognize this song as the one playing in the fifth season finale of Grey's Anatomy. Please note that your opinions of the series should not taint your ability to enjoy good music.

Picks of the Week: Thirty Nine

2009-06-26T08:00:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: As per my usual morning routine, instead of working on the research I should be conducting, I was busy traipsing the Internet for my daily fill of new media. And as with most of these sessions, discovering items of novelty involve a fair amount of haphazard clicking as well as the ability to stomach some really bad music. Such was the manner in which I discovered Frank and Derol, a female trio from beautiful California. Further investigation of the band revealed that their guitarist is one Brandi Cyrus. Yes, the same Cyrus of Billy Ray and Miley infamy. Gasp, another Cyrus in the business? Thank heavens, Frank and Derol sound nothing like Miss Miley. They’re an unsigned band and their Myspace account only has two songs. But from what I’ve heard, they could be so big in a small sense. Let me qualify that last statement. They don’t play music in the mass-market pop genre that Miley dominates, nor do they play the preppy bubble-gummy synth-pop of Metro Station, another Cyrus family production, thanks to co-founder, Trace Cyrus. Instead, Frank and Derol play soft, ambient, indie electro-pop. The first thing that came to my mind when I heard them was: Azure Ray. And that excited the hell out of me. Why? Because we need more bands that play music which reminds me this summer isn’t going to collapse into a grey, rain-soaked grave. I miss the sun –the Malaysian sun, specifically- and bands like Frank and Derol bring it to me, in delicately murmured refrains about sleepy days and the touch of a loved one. This is music to make you sigh, smile and so much more.

Picks of the Week: Thirty Eight

2009-06-21T12:06:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Had my usual weekly conversation with my parents yesterday evening. Even got to wish my father Happy Father’s Day. Big improvement from the cock-up I’d committed days ago when I forgot to call home on my Mom’s birthday. Obviously, when I was reminded of this by my brother, I had the common sense to call home in the middle of the night to make my birthday wishes a full day later. I’ve never been any good with dates and numbers.

When my Mom saw my face last night, she commented on how much I seem to have aged in the face. I think her exact words were along the lines of “haggard with sunken cheeks”. I couldn’t really give her much of an explanation as to why I look like crap. And then she said something about my aging tremendously since I left home. At that point, I felt a sharp burst of frustration inside of me. I wanted to snap back with a response like “That’s because I want to come home!” but I didn’t. A lot of times, I take liberties with my parents, backbiting or sassing them when I’m unhappy. But those moments are usually about petty issues. And in those moments, my parents know just as I do that the unhappiness will recede and there is no permanent disruption to normalcy.

But there are some things I never say to the people I love. Some things that you know once uttered, cannot be taken back. Emotions once expressed that inevitably change –whether drastically or subtly- the dynamics of a relationship. Homesickness is one such thing. I try, very hard to be nonchalant about it, but only because I feel that nothing can be done about it. And if nothing can be done about the issue, why trouble those you love with it. That would only exacerbate the unpleasantness of the situation by making others feel completely helpless in the face of your personal struggles. I will not participate in the marketplace of misery. I refuse to sell to the people I care about.

***

I’ve been listening to this beautiful acoustic-folk singer-songwriter called Gregory and the Hawk. Gregory and the Hawk is actually a certain Meredith Godreau from New York and she sings hauntingly personal songs that suit perfectly the weather I’ve been experiencing here the past few days. The sky has been grey for days, a grey that gets darker with the rain that falls too often. When it is grey and wet outside, I stay indoors and try to recall what I used to do as a child on rainy days. For the life of me, I have no memories of those days but I’m sure I was happy then.

The song that she performs in the video above is called ‘Wild West’. It contains a most poetic line: “When the morning comes, when you catch my soul upon waking, will you make a wish?” Don’t you just wish you could utter those lines to someone you love? Or have that someone say those words to you? Gosh, someone songwriters are emotional geniuses.

Picks of the Week: Thirty Seven

2009-06-10T19:33:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: I’m spending my summer in the US. Every single day of it. Maybe I’ll get to go home next summer. Or maybe I won’t. Heaven knows what I’ll be doing. I sure hope I won’t go four years without seeing home again. These things you don’t plan for. They just happen as they do. I’m doing research this summer. It’s community-based research which means I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. But then again, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing in the US as well. I also have absolutely no idea what I want to do when I graduate. I am clueless as to what I’m eating for breakfast tomorrow. I detect a trend here…

Anyway, the first week and a half of summer has been pretty stop-start for me. I’ve moved out of my dorm of nine months –a new dorm which I’ve become incredibly comfortable with- to a really run-down dorm for the summer. It’s like buying a new pair of pants. There’s some chafing in the groin area already. But another 3 months of this and I move again to another dorm for the rest of the next academic year. 2009/10 will also mark my first-year as a Junior Advisor(JA) to my very own bunch of freshmen. Being one of the few male JAs hired, I’ve been honored with the assignment of an all-male floor in a building full of quads. Quads = loads of parties. Next year will be exciting. And interesting.

I’m done with my first-year of college. It’s gone past so quickly I’ve barely had time to catch my breath. There have been so good moments and there have been some bad moments. I fear the next 3 years will pass too quickly as well. Where do all these years go to? The ones we count when we are older and struggle to remember. We should all be so grateful as to offer thanks for moments past. But we seldom are.

I’ve had the same dream –more akin to a nightmare- twice in the past week. It’s the same situation. I dream I’m back in high school, about to take the SPM again. In this dream, I suddenly realize I haven’t studied at all for the test I’m about to take and this paralyzing panic takes over me. The fear is so sudden and so overwhelming that it suffocates. It overtakes the senses so quickly that it doesn’t even allow my mind to develop a defense: it cripples the ability to hope. What is this fear? It is an emotion surely. But how does it act so strongly?

Some philosophers believe that emotions are nothing but physical representations. William James was the pioneer proponent of this viewpoint. In his most lucid analysis of emotion, he invites us to abstract from emotions its physical affects. Imagine fear without the drying of your mouth, the trembling of your hands, the pounding of your heart and the cold perspiration that coats your face. Without these physical aspects, fear would be nothing to fear at all. In its place, would merely be cold, calculative observation.

Yet, one can argue that the fear I experience in my dream is not of the physical kind. The panic seems to stem from a feeling of helplessness. My fear is rooted in the prospect of a situation so dire that no discernible solution presents itself: the inevitability of consequence. Yet another school of thought in philosophy of mind holds that emotions involve some form of cognition. Adherents of this school are called cognitivists. Martha Nussbaum posits that cognition itself is inextricably tied to emotion. Her strongest example comes when she discusses the death of her mother. When she receives news of her mother’s death, Ms.Nussbaum accepts the perception that someone whom she is deeply loves is eternally gone. This perception must automatically entail the emotions of sadness and grief because such emotions are intrinsically linked to the perception. When we are cognizant of events, we emote simultaneously.

Perhaps the cognitivist accounts for my fear better. I am aware of the seeming hopelessness of a situation thus, I feel the overpowering fear. If this is so, then the only way I can overcome it is to destroy my cognitive abilities. That would involve a long incision along my brain stem. Not exactly a DIY project. Or, I can reject my notion that the situation is hopeless and the belief that I am incapable of a solution. If I do this successfully, then the concomitant fear will not arise. Rejecting a belief in favor of another seems like too much work. Brain surgery it is then.

I still don’t know why I had this dream. No philosophy class will explain that to me. Dream analysis is the realm of psychologists. In the mean time, I distract myself with this video of Stephen Breyer. The man is pure class and genius.

Picks of the Week: Thirty Six

2009-04-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: It’s been ages since I’ve blogged. Writing about my life as opposed to actually living it has a weird surreal feeling. Smacks a little of escapism. Write about it so you can avoid living it. Not that I’ve actually done much living the past few days. It’s all slowed down a little the past week or so. The world doesn’t scream by at blinding speeds anymore. I still stress, but that’s all I’ve ever been good for anyway. How did it become that my world is ruled by the standards that others set for me as opposed to those I set for myself? I don’t know if this is even sustainable. Whatever, there’s no time for thinking.

The best thing about break? Listening to a lot of great new music. The second best thing about break? Watching a lot of great movies and video clips. I think happiness is a funny ad. So let’s roll out some of my current favorites:

1. This is a Skittles ad. Watch the mirrors very carefully. Also, the banter between the tailor and the guy? Priceless stuff.

2. This is an ad for Monster.com. I don’t know why they always portray the weird guy as an effete looking East European electro-disco hippie with gaudy clothing.

3. Now this is one cool ass car ad. I’m not old enough to remember Gene Kelly. In fact, I’ve never even seen Singin’ in The Rain. But damn the song is catchy. Mint Royale is definitely one of the best finds this break. And you know what, I even like the damn VW Golf GTi.

4. Carlsberg ad. Tremendous how they got the old generation of England players in on this one. Best scene in this ad must be when the referee books Bobby Charlton.

I smile. FC OUT!

Picks of the Week: Thirty Five

2008-09-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: I pulled the first all-nighter of my life yesterday evening. Was up till 6 in the morning trying to finish up my reading. By 8, I was sitting in class, bleary-eyed and beyond irritable. 5 minutes later, I found out I scored a B for my first ever graded college paper. Could it go all downhill from here? I'm not that smart. Who would've guessed...

Picks of the Week: Thirty Four

2008-09-09T17:22:00.000-07:00

OffBeat: Greetings from Lewiston, Maine! I'll blog about my life in college in another post but for now, have you seen the trailer for the new Max Payne movie? It's FUCKING unbelievable. F-U-C-K-I-N-G. Shit, I haven't been as excited about a movie like this since 300. Take a look, folks:

Picks of the Week: Thirty Three

2008-08-20T07:53:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: I get accused of bottling up my feelings a fair bit. Something about not sharing my burdens. Based on sound evidence, I find the accusation usually arises when people ask me what's wrong with me and I grunt a curt 'Nothing'. The similar set of evidence also shows that females have a higher propensity of questioning my brooding reticence. What's up with that? I thought females like the dark, mysterious male persona. You mean I've gotten in wrong all this while? Damn...that explains my current dry spell. Well, someone ought to have been thoughtful enough to mention this prior to my puberty.

I'm a moody little cunt, I'll give you that. Most times I'm happy, the other times upset. The thing is, people can't really tell which mood I happen to be in. I think it scares them. I'll even venture that being my friend is a difficult thing. Surely, me Lord, thou doth protest too much. I may be a wee bit of a dick, but I'm a dick with charisma, no?

So, to address my earlier point: I bottle up my feelings. Well of course I do. But I do it with so much flair, my emotional repression is irresistable. You won't catch me calling you in the middle of the night crying. (wink, wink, my friend) Doubt anyone would take me seriously even if I did. I will admit however, that if I cannot proffer anything by way of emotional attachment or common ground in my friendships, then there isn't much more to me than a little rude Chinese leprechaun. I don't do this much, so bear with me, no?

A couple of weeks ago, I travelled down to Singapore to attend another scholarship interview. Prior to that I had been contacted by a certain governmental agency in the island state with regards to a scholarship. The catch was that this scholarship has a citizenship requirement. In a nutshell, I bunged it up so my passport is still red and says Malaysian. In all honesty, I wouldn't have taken the scholarship had I been successful. But that just sounds like sour grapes, so boo-ho to you, Echo_slam. A few days later, I found out I was unsuccessful in another scholarship application, this time, a small grant offered by a local agency. As it stands, I stand at 1 to 3 in scholarship applications this year, my 1 win being the scholarship enabling me to study at Bates. Go Bobcats!

This is what I meant when I wrote 'I still don't have my shit together' in an earlier post. I'm still too strung up in my disappointments, still double-guessing my decisions; taking myself apart just for the sake of critical appraisal. And this pathology originates from Lord knows where. Maybe I fell hard on my head as a kid. Maybe I huffed too much paint thinner back in high school. I distinctly remember eating asbestos as a teenager.

Yet the really fucked up portion of this story is that I don't even think I'm all that shit. There is little doubt in my mind that I am possessed of substantial intelligence and ability. So, what's up with the angst, you wee bastard? I don't know the answer to that one. Bolehkah saya menggunakan talian hayat, Encik Hassan? Jawapan tak muktamad lagi, ni! So how am I to share my feelings with others when I cannot even express them? I'm not cold, just inarticulate.

The Argument for Exclusion: There was a nationally televised debate about two hours ago. One of the speakers had degrees from Princeton and the University of Chicago. If students from these two universities speak the way the aforementioned individual did, I'm pleased as hell I didn't apply to those schools. The logic in this one is so much more apparent: if they're capable of a debate that doesn't blatantly insult the intelligence but only if it is conducted in English, by all means do so. Otherwise, don't bother. Show CSI instead. They're bringing in Laurence Fishburne.

Also, one of the speakers kept saying Sebenarnya before allowing himself a grand pause of several seconds. It may be dramatic in the beginning but after a few times, he just sounded like he didn't know what to say and needed buffer time to think. Maybe he really didn't know what to say, which wouldn't surprise me. As a Malaysian citizen, I feel it is my duty to clarify his intended message of the night. It is: Sebenarnya...Dragon Ball ada tujuh bijik kesemuanya!

Now that is compelling oratory.

Picks of the Week: Thirty Two

2008-08-19T08:39:00.000-07:00

OffBeat: This is why Nike is fucking genius:

Picks of the Week: Thirty One

2008-08-13T23:31:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Again I felt pangs of sadness and fear this afternoon; perhaps the strongest of all my episodes of late. I'd like to think there is a list that prepares you for this sort of departure. Then it'll be just another cycle, a way to get by. But I don't think they pass these sort of lists out along with your acceptance letters. At least my college didn't. Buggers...

I thought about you today and suddenly the trip felt so much lonelier. You remind me of a past to which I belonged but no longer recognize. And in that past, I wasn't scared or afraid of leaving. In that past, I knew where home was and how to get there. The road there seems so much longer in this present.

Still, I've said what I needed to say. There will be more goodbyes in the coming days. I will remember some, I might remember none. As will the others. Things happen the way they do. Nobody's lost but nobody wins.

I'll probably miss a score of events: births, marriages, anniversaries, divorces, deaths; but go through a good few on my own. There will be constants of a different sort: family and friends. Home is a feeling that's buried in you.

Most glaring of this all is the fact that I simply don't have my shit together. I'm still holding on to some crippling burden of disappointment, resentment, regret and ingratitude. This comes and this goes. I must find a way to make it go for good. Otherwise, so much of my life will go past while the world spins madly on.

OffBeat: I've never thought very highly of Malaysian TV until I stumbled upon a TV ad of this local series called 'Ampang Medikal'. The Wiki entry is worth a read. It calls the series 'ala Grey's Anatomy'. Which really isn't that surprising considering the name and cast. They've modelled the name after Chicago Hope -Ampang Medikal, Chicago Hope, get it?- and they've cast a female as the lead. As if it isn't enough that we've already got House MD., Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, Scrubs, ER and Nip/Tuck, we'll have to contend with a bunch of local actors guessing lupus at every diagnosis. Which wouldn't be that unbearable if not for the fact that everyone knows BN cured lupus in addition to meningitis, polio and herpes.

So we've got a local Grey's Anatomy and named it Ampang Medikal. Future local spin-offs include:

a) Gossip Girl = Perempuan Perempuan Gosip

b) Desperate Housewives = Bini Terdesak

c) Sex and the City = Khalwat dan Zina

d) Hell's Kitchen = Cooking with Chef Wan

and their crown jewel

e) The West Wing = Putrajaya

Brilliant, no?

Picks of the Week: Thirty

2008-07-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Well, I've been home in Ipoh for over a week now. The highlight of my days is usually when I curse at the Internet connection at my place. Life was grand till God created poor broadband connection. The weirdest thing about this whole connectivity debacle is that the connection is unstable onwards of 4pm. It's like a damn bandwidth cap -which I'm sure any call technician will deny exists. Explain to me then why I can't get porn at 1am when everyone is finally asleep and I can get the naughty-naughty all to my lonesome self.

Other than my constant griping, nothing much has transpired. Most of the mates have left for uni either in Singapore or Kampar or Tronoh. And another one is about to leave for the US in a week. Can't help but feeling that it's my fault that I'm getting to spend much time with them. I probably should've left KL much earlier. But my time in Ipoh is doing me good. At the risk of sounding overly cliched, I must say that the air in Ipoh really is different. When I breathe up here, I can feel my lungs expand. When I breathe in KL, my left lung collapses completely. I sleep better when I'm home and feel fresh even though I get by with slightly less sleep than usual; although I think that's beginning to change. Been taking in over 9 hours of sleep a day the past few days. A definite byproduct of physical atrophy.

Haven't had much opportunity to run around Ipoh either. I've had the occasion meet-up with a friend for drinks or a movie and grocery shopping sessions with my folks. But they're part of daily routine anyway. I've got nothing special planned out proper. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever get a proper holiday before I start college.

I watched the Dark Knight with a friend that day. Can't really see what the whole fuss is about. Heath Ledger was obviously the star of the movie. The other cast members gave obviously lesser performances. This installment of the Batman series wasn't even remotely as dark as the first one. All the scenes had light airy feelings to them. Hell, I laughed when they blew up one of the main characters. I didn't even feel sorry for the said individual. Maybe it's because I emphatised so much with that Joker fellow. Sometimes, I wonder if I would make a good Joker. Sometimes, I think I would. All in all, the show had a dialogue that overflowed with platitudes and a plot twist that I figured out twenty minutes into the film -it was the coin tossing that gave it away. My friend went ballistic when I figured out the twist. It was as though I cracked the Da Vinci Code. Bugger would've probably kissed me if I was a girl.

A couple more weeks of this and I'll be on a plane. Leaving on a jet plane...

Picks of the Week: Twenty Nine

2008-07-08T19:45:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: So I've finally got my classes for the Fall Term pegged down. At least I think I do. But they weren't really the classes that I wanted -for lack of a better verb. Let me revise that mode of thought. They weren't the classes I envisioned myself taking in my first semester. See, my results in my A-Levels meant that I was eligible for credit in the basic 100-level courses in Math, Economics and Chemistry. Hoo-ray for that. Unfortunately, the two 200-level courses that I was gunning for: Intermediate Micreconomics and Intermediate Macroeconomics, aren't open to first year students. My A-Levels credits cleared the Registrar on Monday. Class registration opened on Monday. I e-mailed the two professors on Tuesday to get clearance for a first year to take a 200-level course. It's Wednesday today and I found out about 4 hours ago that my application has been rejected. So I was stuck; stuck with two registered classes and two empty slots and a good 2 days of registration behind everyone else. Obviously the hot classes had been taken.

I could of course take that class in Dance Repertory Performance, but my lower back shot me a vengeful look. So I spent a frantic half an hour worrying about how my dreams of a quick and easy Econs major have been ravaged by the iniquity of circumstance. I tried to register for Statistics, a 200-level course which is an Econ core subject AND open to first year students. But when you register for a class that has a cap of 25 students a good two days after registration opened, you're really operating along the lines of hoping Black Sabbath will perform at your grandmother's eightieth birthday party.

I have come to realise that at the beginning of this whole process, I put my hopes firmly on getting my two ECON courses because they were identifiable underneath the big pile of wildly differing classes called liberal arts. It was just another stupid defense mechanism on my part: reverting to something that is tried and trusted. But if I'm going to persist along those lines for the next four years, picking subjects that I already have become acquainted with, then what the hell am I doing at a liberal arts college? I didn't apply to Bates so that I could be an intellectually-parochial wimp. The truth to it is that I applied liberal arts to piss my parents off. Please don't tell my folks. It'll break their heart.

So with caution thrown to the wind, I went on a course selection process of entirely arbitrary and capricious methods. That, has resulted in a course load as such: Beginners German I, Politics of Third World Development and The Brontes. The last one is actually a colloquia -entry level English course. My course specifically deals with the works of the three Bronte sisters. Those of you who thought they're a New York post-punk band have got to be fucking kidding me. It's all very feminine and Victorian and gender-bending. I foresee myself being the only one with a dick in that class. I assume that will even shrink and disappear entirely by the end of the course. echo_slam, the Feminist, has a lovely tone to it, no? I loved What Women Want.

My mother sounded slightly peeved over the phone when I disclosed my list of classes. Something about never being employed and having man-boobs. I think the second comment has something to do with healthy diets and fast foods. I'm rather pleased with my choices though. The most natural complements for a double major candidate -with Econs the confirmed choice- would be majors like Political Science, Philosophy, English and Interpretive Dance. Wait a minute... I've got classes at 8 from Monday to Thursday. God, it's like A-Levels all over again. But on Tuesdays, I've got a an and a half hour class from 8 to 9.30 in the morning and that's it. I can already tell that Tuesdays will be nap days. Of course we German folk call them siestas.

As it stands, I've put myself out in the deep end, building myself up for either a magical educational experience, or a lesson in consistently unacceptable GPAs. So what do you guys think? echo_slam, the charismatic and insightful political scientist, or echo_slam, Asia's mercurial literary fixture?

Picks of the Week: Twenty Eight

2008-07-06T06:34:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Haven't been able to blog of late because the Net in my place has been down the whole week and the guy in charge of it -replacing hardware, paying the line bill, calling Streamyx with choice vulgarities etc. - hasn't been around. This time round, it's a burnt router that caused the problem. Seven computers are connected to one router which is turned off an average of twenty minutes a day. Factor in the odd hours of usage -yours truly checks his mail at 7am in the morning- and you'd be surprised how we DON'T burn our routers out more frequently. Anyway, I've been pissed off to no end the past few days due to the lack of connectivity in my house.

In other news, I inch closer and closer to departure. I've got the visa and even the flight ticket. Not cheap the second one. I fly into the night of the 25th day of August into Singapore for an overnight layout before departing for Tokyo, Chicago and finally Portland, Maine. Wonderful, no, this transnational adventure? Wonder if I'll get arse sores from all that sitting around. Wonder if I'll get an STD from shagging all those flight attendants. I'm flying United. Those of you who've flown with them before, do tell me if their air hostess are superior in physical appearance to those psuedo ladyboys that our local carriers employ.

I wish I am home in Ipoh. I've seriously overstayed my time here in KL. The city seems to recycle a pattern of chasing shadows into empty alleys. It becomes old very quickly and gives me a terrible headache everytime. But I cannot return. Not yet. Just not so soon. I wish I could tell someone and everyone why but for now, I must make a secret of it, only for fear of jinxing it. How odd that the cards of chance are always thrown at me at most impropitious moments. Still, every path is deserving of a second chance. I'll just have to hold on to this last vestige of hope till it evaporates completely into the air.

Picks of the Week: Twenty Seven

2008-06-15T06:17:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: An update is long overdue. But I've been really busy of late, what with sleep deprivation and all that. I still managed to make my way to the U.S.A for Students fair yesterday though and met up with some delightful people. Yesterday's events seem to give things a sense of finality. I will be leaving all of this very soon. Soon enough that the number of weeks can be counted on both hands. A thousand opportunities and more lay before me. Four years of new experiences in strange and unknown lands; each as uncertain as the other. What is for certain, however, is that I will miss home and all its people. For all my ambitions and affectations about global citizenry, I feel a terrible fraying at the edges of my emotions: the unravelling of excitement into what seems to be fear. Writing this as I sit alone in my room on a warm Sunday afternoon, I cannot help but recollect how I spent so many afternoons similar to this over the years.

The mornings always open in bright lustres of orange and yellow. I barely remember any cloudy Sunday mornings. Mondays, always, but Sundays, almost never. The morning light radiates with an unsual warmth that travels deep into the confines of the soul and lulls an inescapable siren song of languor. So people begin the day richly evoked of a sleep that they left not hours ago. In this restless frame of mind, I would trudge to Sunday school, a congregation of personalities even brighter than the sun above. What spiritual corrections a person as impious as I seeked fromthat school, I do not know. Yet I attended these classes, guided by a sense of devotion which dictated that religion, like most forms of action requires constant repetition to be mastered. They would read and I would read. They would pray and I would pray. They would sing and I would be aghast. As we spent time reading, praying and singing, morning would pass to afternoon. Exhausted but jubilant from all that 'worship', we were sent home and I could stop feeling guilty about contemplating issues such contraceptives, homosexuality and masturbation in the vicinity of a church.

Back home, my parents would have prepared lunch and upon my return, the three of us would eat as the afternoon blanketed us further in lethargy. After lunch, my mother would seek respite in my room -the coolest room in the house. I would lie next to her in my tiny single bed, just staring at the ceiling as she falls into a soundless sleep. Then, just as soundlessly, I would walk out of the room.

Those afternoons I sepnt watching the television, reading or taking long naps of my own. I don't remember anything special or significant happening on Sundays. Birthdays, deaths, anniversaries, break-ups; they all seemed to completely bypass the seventh day of the week. It seemed as though the universe, by its own accord, surrendered in the fact of that ubiquitous Sunday heat and refused all activity on that day. But what the day lacked in terms of activity and events, it made up in familiarity. Sundays, in all its saturated laze embodied home likes nothing else. They were slow and unharried and astonishingly predictable. Just like family and home, Sundays would come and go each week and seem totally unchanged each time. Right now, those Sundays are 200km and six years away from me. A few weeks from now, they will seem even further away.

Picks of the Week: Twenty Six

2008-05-22T06:53:00.000-07:00

The Argument for Exclusion: You know that our elected representatives are running out of intelligent topics when they start discussing their personal safety at, of all places, the Parliament. Having fully run out of petty remarks aimed at the disability of others esteemed MPs demonstrated their keen insights in the domain of national security by raising concerns regarding the security of the House. Lord forbid something tragic might actually befall the Brain Trust. Citing the birthday celebration of six-year old Vwaishhnnavi, daughter of Hindu Rights Action Force (Hindraf) leader P. Waythamoorthy in the Parliament lobby, Datuk Bung Mokhtar Radin (Kinabatangan hero) said that the celebrations proved that there is easy access to the building. An irrational man may have this to say in response to his comments: 'Dear Sir, accessibility to the Parliament might be attributable to the fact that its central location in the capital city of Kuala Lumpur. Of course arrangements could be made to relocate the House to Kinabatangan, but I'm sure that would also enroach upon your idea of personal safety.' Of course, those would be the words of a completely irrational person, an entity completely absent from Malaysian citizenry.

According to the report, the issue of security first arose when N.Gobalakrishnan (Padang Serai) said he received a poison pen letter in his mail box in his Parliament. His primary concern revolved around the seeming ease in which objects could be deposited into Parliamentarian mail boxes: " What if I didn't receive a letter but a bomb instead, because anyone can access the MPs' mail box room easily." We can surely emphatize with this overt security flaw. To begin with, it violates all sense of propriety and decorum to send poison pen letters to our MPs. The Parliament is a venue reserved for discussions of paramount importance to national interests. All correspondence should exalt the importance of our elected officials, nothing shy of worshipping their deductive abilities. However, the respected MP can rest assured that his personal safety is not in the least be threatened. Everybody knows that in our country, you only get live ordnance delived to you if you (a) speak your mind about the monarchy and race supremacy (b) work in the state headquarters of a leading Opposition party or (c) are a Mongolian model. Anyone who doesn't fall in the aforementioned categories can rest assured. However, Minister in the Prime Minister's Department Datuk Seri Nazri Abdul Aziz said that he would speak to the security force to place a guard outside the mail room to jot down the names of people who deliver letters or notes. The intention presumably is to obtain a return address in case live ordnance is actually delivered. An old saying goes, 'Nothing is sweeter than undelivered postal retribution'.

While that conundrum may appear to be solved, the presence of pre-adolescent children in the Parliament poses an entirely different security risk. I harbor a suspicion that external forces with designs on the subversion of the Malaysian government have developed a generation of child spies to infiltrate the inner echelons of the country's administration. In fact, there is a strong possibility that this child may be a Power Ranger in disguise. If investigations prove these suspicions true, then the country's security forces must be put on high alert. The tactical acumen of Zordon cannot be underestimated. He would most surely strike at the core of our nation's leadership: luminaries with the calibre of the honored MP from Kinabatangan. Without such singular individuals, a horrific destitution would almost surely befall this nation.

On a less serious note, news of the death threat towards veteran Parliamentarian Karpal Singh was announced this week. The startling turn of events garnered a mention on page 27 of a leading local daily. Just goes to show what the local media thinks of Parliamentary safety. It's morphing time!

Picks of the Week: Twenty Five

2008-05-09T20:00:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: About over a month ago, I came to the end of my tenure as the Editor of the department newsletter of my college. One of my final duties as Editor was to preside over the final publication of my tenure which would also serve as my successor's first ever issue. As it was to be my swansong, I decided to take the piss and attempt to go out with a bang. So, in my final Editorial, I sent in this to be published:

Fortune occurs when effort and opportunity come together by some act of providence. The course of our lives is mapped by how labouriously we toil at the gates of success and how shrewdly we exploit circumstance that we may gain entry beyond these gates. So opportunity and effort did come together one December day, some time ago and I was entrusted with the office of Editor of the A-Voice. Another December has come and gone, giving way to a new year. My work and my responsibilities to the department newsletter come to an end. For as long as I was the Editor, I tried my best to implement my vision of how this community mouthpiece should go about its important but thankless job of reporting and commentary. That I may have been a spectacular success or an immitigable failure, I leave to all to judge; to each his own opinion. Today, I have not set out to write an epitaph for my tenure. Epitaphs are for the celebrated dead and I am neither. Instead, I would like to traverse my memories of HELP University College and its people one more time before this chapter of the A-Voice gives way to another.

I'll remember the students, many of them bright and talented, some wise beyond their years. There was never a dull moment in class and never a dull moment out of class. While people draw lines in black and white, my friends blurred the lines between work and play. I'll remember the lecturers, mostly for their generous personalities. The difference between a good teacher and an average teacher is how much more the former cares about your wellbeing beyond her academic purview. In this respect, the HELP lecturers were exemplary lecturers. From them, I learnt more than a hundred texts could contain. I'll remember my staff at the A-Voice, independent and driven characters. While readers bear witness only to their writing capabilities, I bear testament to their extraordinary character and personality. To have encountered such a diverse and balanced group of individuals and to have been given the opportunity to lead them, I count myself as truly charmed. My only regret is that they do not receive the gratitude they deserve in our community. What silly beings we are, ignoring those who work hardest for us.

I won't however, remember a sense of community in our A-Levels community. For all the prose that I write espousing the hope that our community distinguishes itself through a unique identity, I have not seen this happen. We are just as flawed as any other community, fractured along invisible lines and divided by an unknown enemy. In a student community as small as ours, it should never be easy to fade into anonymity. Yet somehow, we conspire to do a terrific job of forgetting others who do not conform to our stereotypes. We, at the A-Voice say we speak for the student community. But who speaks for those who are not seen and are not heard? I won't remember an open and engaging atmosphere within the department with grouses aired and addressed immediately. Our world is littered by unreasonable curmudgeons of deceivingly attractive exteriors. What they lack in ability and aptitude, they make up for in sheer obduracy and astonishing subnormal intelligence. We live a microcosm of everything that is wrong with our country and the world in general: a generation of people too afraid of criticism and confrontation to ever improve. I put down in editorials that the A-Voice prints unbiased and stimulating articles but I am guilty of the same sin: cowardice. When have I ever challenged the confines of socio-political taboo? When have I ever assailed the sacred cows of publication censure? The fights and arguments one chooses to ignore are just as telling of one's personality as those which he plunges into headlong. So we sit, solitary and silent in our grief, paralyzed in a state of artificial bliss as we allow our courage to rob itself of its potency. I will not remember feeling a particular significance about the two years I spent at HELP. Desperately, at times, I have tried to love this place, tried to understand and accept its stench of sterile apathy. But I could not swallow the bitterness of studying at a place that had all the clockwork hallmarks of an assembly line and none of the organic pleasures of an educational institution. To this day, I have never felt more than just a statistic lost amongst a stack of others, at the mercy of some unknown but fearsome omnipotent being. I already believe in one God; there is no need to create another one on Earth. How we obtain our education is closely related to how we approach our education. Do we awake each morning looking forward to the contents of an enriching day? Or do we stumble out of bed indifferent to the mismanaged mishmash that has become an excuse for learning? At some point, all of us inevitably discover that all we will ever amount to is a face on some glossy brochure; a symbol of the necessity to feed someone's chauvinistic masturbatory needs. What we give up in exchange for knowledge, we should never have to part with. Perhaps this malfeasance is not endemic only to our institution. Perhaps the rest of the world is susceptible to the same passivity in the face of student wellbeing. But in a world gone wrong in so many terrible ways, should we not be the first ones to break the trend?

So to all those still studying at HELP and those still to come to this institution, my advice to you is this: Demand and demand more. Never tire of your demands that your education be the absolute best. If you find your experiences any less enriching than you envisioned it to be, take corrective measures and let hell stand between you and anyone who tries to stop you. Know your friends and rely on them for support and advice. There will be a day when you will have to repay their kindness. Do so double fold. Speak loudest against injustices and perceived iniquities. Speak not when others speak: the brightest brain does not always belong to the loudest voice. Fear not even when numbers and power are placed firmly against you; it only takes one brave voice to lead and conviction will be the only weapon you need. You are unique even amongst the hundreds of people that mill about you all day. The sooner you realize this, the harder it is for others to homogenize you. Try to make a new friend everyday. Everyone deserves a chance to know you better, even the people you don't like. Stay humble. You'll never know when you are a 'Special One' and the 'Special Ones' never flaunt their good fortune.

For all my griping, I am still thankful for the many wonderful moments I take away from my time at the A-Levels Department of HELP and the A-Voice. To my friends, I wish you good luck. To my lecturers, I lay my most humble thanks at your door. To those who will come after me I say, the adventure has just begun. May your labours and circumstance meet together most favourably.

***

People often wonder what private tertiary education is like in Malaysia. The simple but often ignored fact is that it is no different from public education. The mind-numbing parochial pre-occupation with academic potential as measured by grades is still there; perhaps even worse at private institutions. At least at public schools extra-curricular activities are actually existent.

When I sent my piece in to my successor, he scurried off to the Staff Advisor with the recommendation that certain portions of the article be removed. It was to be expected. Had I been sent an article of similar nature whilst I was in office, I would have resorted to some form of censure. Finally, the editorial was printed, sans fifteen sentences, most of which came out of the third paragraph.

My writing may not have reached as wide an audience as I had hoped it would. But even if it did, would it have the desired effect? I'm not quite sure what others would've made of my words. Would I be seen as a bitter outcast of the community, stranded on the distant periphery of reason, driven only by my retaliatory impulses? Or would I be perceived as merely a person with a deep concern for the quality of his education?

Picks of the Week: Twenty Four

2008-05-06T05:56:00.001-07:00

OffBeat: Three reasons why I love the Internet: (big, big thanks to the guy behind Good Weather for Airstrikes for the source material)

1. Estelle feat. Kanye West - American Boy (Danger Remix)

Everybody loves a great club tune. I can just imagine how this one tune can instantly turn a dancefloor mired in late stage rigor mortis into disco inferno. Most of you will already have heard the original mix sampling Will.I.Am's Impatient, but this remix, by a brilliant French DJ named Danger will convert any disinterested party crowd into head-bopping Teletubbies in seconds. It's in the hypnotic synths and the funky cosmic vocals and the Chinese kungfu film samples and the borderline obscene bass; that's where the urge to just leave your drinks and gravitate to the hot and sweaty dancefloor resides. And when Estelle hauntingly rasps "You'll be my American boy", you find yourself in that smoky UK club, staring at a stunning brunette with the deepest darkest eyes you'll ever see and the black magic just takes over. Everyone was born to party to this sort of music.

2. Metro Station - Shake It

You would expect a band with Miley Cyrus' brother as one of its members to produce the same sort of turd that make the Lindsey Lohan's and Hilary Duff's millions of dollars. But you would be wrong. Instead, Metro Station have come out with a hot single that can only be described in one word: fun. Funky keyboard progressions and tall guitar riffs meld with upbeat vocals to produce a bite-sized piece of electro-pop goodness. It's no wonder that Alternative Press listed Metro Station as one of the "22 Best Underground Bands (That Likely Won't Stay Underground for Long)". Taking its cue from the title of the track, the whole intention of the song is to compel you to discard all your inhibitions and simply 'shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake it'. Surely one of the most catchy choruses this season!

3. Wale - W.A.L.E.D.A.N.C.E

Save the best for the last, they say, and this should round off a long night of strong beats and even stronger movements. Wale is a rapper from the DC area and on this track, he samples Justice's megahit D.A.N.C.E. When you pair lyrical genius with sheer musical class, the byproduct is a bastard child track that exceeds all expectations and then some. Between Wale's inexhaustible verbal antics and the consuming synth-pop perfection underneath, you find yourself almost breatheless trying to catch up with the song. If you think Kanye West's sampling of Daft Punk's Harder, Faster, Stronger was good, this will curdle your milk. Wale's lyrics are smart, witty and perfectly timed creating a synergy with Justice's tune that is sure to boost sperm counts across the globe. If this doesn't get you dancing and grooving wildly, nothing ever will. Ever.

That's it. 3 masterful tracks to liven up your weekday evening. So even if you're not out there going at cocktails wildly while grinding against every spindly legged hottie in the club, you can always crank up the stereo and pretend.

(Tracks are listed in the above order on my playlist)

Picks of the Week: Twenty Three

2008-05-04T06:47:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: When I initially read the posts by Zhi Wei and Andrew Loh recalling their old debate days, I was tempted to attempt a similar recollection of my own. But I did not attempt to convert my memories onto paper. There is a danger that surrounds any writing of a particular event or experience. Very often, no two recollections are similar and even more frequent are the disagreements between divergent accounts. Debaters are a self-righteous lot; at times lost to the reality that runs contrary to their own. I would know: I am guilty of the same vice. My last attempt at blogging about debate was four years ago and largely disastrous. The public domain is an unsuitable platform to air private views due to their antithetical natures. It's odd how we boggers often forget this fact. Inadvertently, inevitably and inexplicably, some of your readers will turn out to be disgruntled ex-debaters still upset about that preliminary round which should have gone the other way. Cue the firefights, and in some cases, the fireworks.

But debaters have an affinity for polemics and biased narratives. So you will have to live with mine, if only momentarily. Debate has probably taken the better part of my life and its exertions. The resultant memories have not always been pleasant, but they deserve to be remembered nonetheless; remembered before they are forever forgotten.

Dawn
I've been in more debates than I care to remember. Places, names, dates, motions, venues, faces; all vanish into the backdrop of life. Sometimes I worry I will forget altogether the time I spent on debate. But one debate stands out most clearly in my mind: the first one. I could not have been older than ten, maybe eleven. My brother -five years older- was watching a hotly contested cup final between his secondary school, St.Michael's Institution and its sister school, Main Convent. A strange manipulation of circumstance put me in that hall, beside him and the throngs that had shown up. The debate had experienced a delayed start and tired of waiting for my brother in the car, my mother brought me into the hall. By the time we entered, the debate had already reached the later stages. I could not have heard anymore than the Third speeches and the Replies. The motion revolved around the-age old choice between the environment and development. Up to that point, never had I witnessed such a large congregation of people: youths and adults with attentions firmly fixated upon six individuals on stage. The audience clapped and cheered and laughed, generating a most excitable cascade of sounds. No child will not be enraptured by such a spectacle. In my mind, it was a singularly electric moment. A little later, at home and slightly intoxicated by the excitement of my youth, I rather loudly protested against the arguments made by the Main Convent speaker, inchoate obstinacy which would later develop into incorrigible partisanship. My mother and brother laughed at my remonstrations but told me -rather kindly- that one day I would be a debater and have a chance to make my opinions heard. So it was decided in the most inconspicuous of manners-me, indignant in oversized pajamas and my family in jocular tones- that debate would be my calling in life.

Years later and as fate may have it, I enrolled at St.Michael's and became one of their debaters. My first competitive experience was in Form 2 when my team was sent to a four-school cup competition hosted by Andersen. We debated the hosts in the first round who fielded a team filled with Form 4 debaters. Quite predictably, we lost and I had no further involvements with debate till Form 4. Then, a group of us were selected and formed a team that would represent the school in most competitions. There were some cloak and dagger politics and a touch of coaxing and cajoling involved in the formation of the team, but eventually, a good team was selected: all products of the same youth system that begat the Form 2 team. Most surprising was the decision to send my team to the Rotary Cup, a competitive tournament featuring the strongest teams in Perak regardless of district demarcation. The tournament was by invitation only and very often, participant schools sent their senior debaters from Form 5. But we were the sacrificial lambs, so green behind the ears you could see alfalfa sprouting out of our cochleas. Yet, we won the tournament, defeating two debate heavyweights: Main Convent and Tarcisian Convent, en route to our triumph; a victory that many debate luminaries and old-hands felt was unjust and undeserving for a team so young and inexperienced. Many observers had told us that the victors that year should have been Methodist Girls School (MGS) and that we would have been destroyed by them had we met in the finals. My team was just reliefed we made it out with two balls still intact: one for pissing, the other for balance.

Noon
Fresh off our shocking performance in the Rotary Cup and we were on the threshold of the Datuk Wira tournament. Everyone knows that Wira was the proving ground for debaters. It was the only route to go national with one's talents. Whilst our strong showing in the Rotary Cup gave us a much needed boost of confidence, it also exerted unnecessary pressure on the team. All of a sudden, we were being compared to the Michaelian team of 2002 that finished national runners-up in the Wira tournament. Even our coach who was due to retire later that year displayed a quiet but palpable determination to finish her career by finally bagging that elusive national title. But I felt the team was ready to respond to the challenge; at least I was. No guts, no glory.

The next few weeks consisted of research, speech writing, discussions, more research, the dismantling of fully written speeches and a lot of solitary muttering by speakers. But for all intents and purposes, those weeks also served as the best experience I've ever had working in a team. It was by no mistake that the five of us had places in the team. Even prior to selection as individual hopefuls were jockeying for positions on the team, cosying up to seniors to put in a good word or bad-mouthing other candidates, I knew precisely those who had the highest chances of making the team based on merit and ability. It helped that in the end, 3 of the final 5 I had known since I was in primary school and one was a close friend since Form 1. As for one more, the aptly named, Le Bagierre, well, there's a reason he was a bugger.

The jokes were free-flowing, the class-cutting was profilgate, the notoriety was unmistakeable. We were Barons who lorded over our domain, the library and we served, at the distinct pleasure of Her Majesty, who was conveniently the Library Staff Advisor. The training, if it even could be called that, was me in full flourish. I would spent hours just sitting there with my best friends, Khael and Tim shooting the bull about everything related and unrelated to the debates. The experience was akin to a great evening party that just had no end. I have never quite felt freedom on that scale since; the ability to just venture out unencumbered with ideas and emotions ablazed, never weighed down by the magnitude what laid before us. My joys are encapsulated in the moments when we would just rattle endlessly on a point till we reached a state of such verbal and mental satiety that we would stop, breathless; only to recommence seconds later. It was always a competition for me, even amongst my teammates, to be the first to find the solution. But what made the banter so easy were the personalities involved. It is no easy task to identify and assemble a group of personalities that so intuitively understood the temperament of each other. Sometimes, rapport is discovered, not built.

I miss checking out books for teachers utilising the library system. I miss the incessant jokes about geographically ambiguous nations such as Burundi and Malawi. I miss having KC explain to The Evil why I didn't complete any of her History assignments. I miss Aw's mistaking of suspicious scents with "wild goats". I miss Furama Hotel, or is it Fumara. I never got that one right. I miss quoting Winston Churchill. I miss having teammates correct my mispronounciation of "we" in the quote. I don't quite miss debates at Permaisuri Bainun. I miss having opponents calling our points "mallified". I miss reliving Khael's shell-shocked reaction to that POI. I miss "bau sei lei". I still have no idea what on Earth that means. I miss wanting a ride on someone's Toyota Unser. I don't miss the Econovan we got instead. I miss the prayer sessions we had before every debate. No team I've ever been on since has ever had that tradition. I miss Far Eastern Economic Review. I still read articles from there. I miss being the only team member in the library; only because I was the only one who didn't want to go to class. I miss seeing my father attend almost every debate I was in. I miss wearing white trousers even though we weren't prefects yet. I miss snacking on keropok lekor in the waiting room before the debates. I miss watching Jillian sit on someone's lap in the computer lab prior to one particular debate. I miss disturbing the junior librarians. I miss playing Unreal Tournament on the library computer. I miss so much; I miss you all.

District was three rounds, culminating in a final against MGS, this time fielding their Form 4 debaters. Still reeling from the injustice that they perceived occured during Rotary, they carried a rather prominent card that read 'Die, St.Michael's, die' during the coss-toin. After we were announced the winners of the debate, their very tearful third speaker came up to me and said, "I'll see you next year". Months later, she became my first girlfriend and gave me two of the happiest years of my life. I never debated her a second time. State was also a three round affair, beginning with a victory against Andersen. Including Rotary, we had notched up a 9-0 record and took the first step toward an appearance in the national finals.

Dusk

Regional only featured 4 states: Perlis, Kedah, Penang and Perak. We despatched Perlis in the semis and faced Penang in the finals. The island state was represented by St. George that year. It was a wonderfully strong performance by the team and looking back, I am so proud of the manner in which we spoke that day. But the decision didn't go our way and we lost. I remember our school shipped two busloads of students to Taiping that day just so that we would have supporters. They were a welcome sight. I'll remember that final for two reasons: one, for the major fallout the team had with our coach the night before. I think she still blames us for the defeat that day even though our point of disagreement never materialised in the debate. Two, minutes after it was announced that we lost, I cried; uncontrollably and without a tinge of self-consciousness. We cry for many reasons: disappointment, anger, happiness, loss and loneliness. But the tears I cried that day were tears of bitterness and they stung the eyes that they came from and burnt the cheeks they rolled down. And from victors we had fallen, amongst the ranks of the defeated. I pressed my face against Khael's chest and remember nothing of the surroundings as he led me away from the crowd and to the car. My friend, weakened by a sadness of his own, my brother, holding me close, my only discernable source of strength; they are one and the same person, most noble of paradoxes. And in the corner of my eye I spy Tim, speechless with grief, or is it anger?

That was the end of debate for some of us. For me, I took part in two more high level debate tournaments, one of which was an international tournament. For all my subsequent experiences, I find myself irrevocably returning to a point of reference, long ago: when a small boy stood in his living room and said to his mother and brother, "I will be a debater one day!"; a time long before that boy had dreams of victory or swallowed the taste of defeat. My brothers, I give you, my most humble salutations and thanks.

Picks of the Week: Twenty Two

2008-04-22T07:24:00.000-07:00

OffBeat: Why I can never take some people seriously:

1) A recent study led by the Cancer Research Council of Victoria in Australia has shown that frequent masturbation may help men cut their risk of contracting prostate cancer. According to the study:

The prostate produces a fluid that is incorporated into ejaculation, which activates sperm and prevents them from sticking together. Studies on animals have shown that carcinogens like 3-methylchloranthrene can be harbored in the prostate. Frequent ejaculation encourages the cancer-inducing fluids to "flush out."

'Healthcare service provider' has taken a whole new meaning.

2) From PETA's vegan drive:

Looking at this picture and having read the earlier article on the wellbeing of my prostate, I can be forgiven for feeling an uncontrollable urge to 'sharpen the pointy end of my blade'. No, seriously; a few slices of roast chicken breast, some chopped walnuts, a cupful of cherry tomatoes, some roasted red peppers, a few drops of oilive oil and salt and pepper to taste and suddenly you have the perfect accompaniment to the Lettuce lingerie. Minimal knifework, optimal performance. Trust me, ingesting copious amounts of green produce will do more for your health than any amount of cockplay. Plus, women dig men who can cook. FC OUT!!!

Picks of the Week: Twenty One

2008-04-20T06:10:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: 19th April. 7.15am on the North-South. 60km/h too fast for my own good. Soft piano keys trickle through the radio. Shayne Ward's Breathless. Are my parents already having breakfast? They don't know I'm on the road. How do they feel this morning? There is a familiar stillness in my world. The sound of my breathing is heavy upon me. Pain, shame, anger or regret? Maybe all conveniently packaged together. I shouldn't have allowed myself to entertain dreams of such grandeur. Singapore looked so beautiful from the top of that building. It's my fault for not being good enough. It's their fault for not being open to different opportunities. It's no one's fault. Somewhere in my consciousness, my mother cries bitter tears of disappointment. Again she cries; always. Why does she think it's her fault? Ex-girlfriends. I'll always love you. Should I be thinking about Law School? Would I be a good lawyer in America? I may not have the money to do graduate school. This might be the biggest mistake of my life. If we have babies they would have your eyes. The windows wind down. As far as I can see, the world around me is blue as twilight gives way to dawn. The same blue you see at dusk. Sounds are drowned as the wind howls in my ears. Even thoughts become vague in the noise. The indicator crosses another notch on the meter. I really should slow down. Confusion drives us to commit such madness upon ourselves. Thank you for calling. You've been such a comfort. Is the world laughing at my failure? This is the shame I have brought upon myself and my family. My father must have told so many people about my 'success'. How will he tell the world that it was nothing but smokescreens and illusions? Look there the man who spoke lies about his son, the world will say of him. Has he not been beaten down enough in life? Don't worry son, we'll always support your decisions. The air smells different in the morning. Or maybe its just this morning that is different. A black Wira appears on the horizon, closer with each second. Now, abreast of me separated by mere inches. Now, in my side mirror. Soon, a black spot on my rear mirror; debris left in the wake of my urgency. Ipoh... 137km. Is that where this journey ends?

19th April. 7.20am on the North-South. 60km/h too fast for my own good. Life.

Picks of the Week: Twenty

2008-04-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: I am constantly surprised by how deeply I can be hurt and how desperately I can hope. I want to make my disappointment a motivation for greater things. But how do you stare defeat in the eye defiantly when you have been so overwhelmingly conquered? C'est un vin que tout le monde doite boire.

Picks of the Week: Nineteen

2008-04-14T07:21:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: The unthinkable has happened. GIC rescinded their offer of scholarship to me this morning. After the emotional high of getting the offer in the first place, the past few weeks have crashed to new low points. I keep telling myself that this may be a blessing in disguise but I'm not sure if I'm convincing anyone but my own empty voice. The worst part of this wasn't getting the news; it was calling up my own parents to tell them about the news. God saw it fit to give us two parents that they may divide and share the pains that we give them. Grief would be too much for one person to embrace alone.

Picks of the Week: Eighteen

2008-04-10T06:54:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life: Something slightly disappointing to start of this post. I e-mailed my benefactors to inform them of my various acceptances in foreign universities and intimated my intention to attend Bates this fall. Their response -even after being informed that I had also been accepted at Warwick and Durham, two premier UK universities- was that they "might have a serious problem with the universities that I applied to". That was followed by a prompt on whether I had applied to LSE -I was rejected- and if I could appeal against my rejection by Yale. Quite frankly, I am shocked that such a situation should arise. I very politely enquired as to the exact nature of their problem.

That was all on Tuesday. They haven't said a word to me since. I'm not quite sure what my standing is at present. I'm unnerved by the radio silence but I think it's not an entirely negative thing. The fact that they're taking their time with it might mean that they're actually doing a background check on Bates. At least they haven't told me to bugger off immediately.

OffBeat: Zhi Wei and Andrew Loh have both written delightfully interesting pieces about their debate experiences. If you feel like reminiscing about old times or just want a good laugh, go check out their posts. Zhi Wei's post has bites and pieces of apocryphal information about me. I highly recommend his writing for its humour but not for its authenticity. His post is about as accurate as Dick Cheney on a duck hunt.

Also, on the musical front. There are about 11 songs on my SoundBox now. I shift through about 20 new songs at work each day so I highly recommend the new additions to my list. If you've just had a long and hard day, I highly recommend New Buffalo's Emotional Champ.

The Argument for Exclusion: This will be long and stultifying. Do not read this if you're about to drive or operate heavy machinery. Now, most people should've already read about the rise in food prices worldwide and the subsequent food riots in some countries. Nations are already on high alert with many taking corrective measures such as eliminating import tariffs on food, establishing price controls on food items and diverting land from commercial crops to food grain.

The moment I read about the problem of food shortage, one man came to my mind immediately: Thomas Robert Malthus. Now this chappie over here is why they call Economics the 'dismal science'. His brand of Economics is called Malthusian Economics and his grand idea was that society would always return to subsistence levels as our increases in population would always outpace that of agricultural production. In his seminal work, An Essay on the Principle of Population, he writes:

" I think I may fairly make two postulata. First, That food is necessary to the existence of man. Secondly, That the passion between the sexes is necessary and will remain nearly in its present state. These two laws, ever since we have had any knowledge of mankind, appear to have been fixed laws of our nature, and, as we have not hitherto seen any alteration in them, we have no right to conclude that they will ever cease to be what they now are, without an immediate act of power in that Being who first arranged the system of the universe,
and for the advantage of his creatures, still executes, according to fixed laws, all its various operations....Assuming then my postulata as granted, I say, that the power of population is indefinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence for man. Population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical
ratio."

He means: We're human. We fuck, we get hungry, we eat and then we fuck some more. Now where's the fried chicken and beer?

At this point, the Malthusian Trap -as his theory is named- engages in some Mathematical wizardry to prove that humans will procreate faster than we develop our resources. I've checked out the Math; it's kosher. According to Malthus, when we give life to our younger generations, we also generate more resources as there is an initial increase in labour. But any surplus food is quickly consumed because our population increases faster than we can produce the food. Thus, there is no real change in per capita GDP.

This has become a major problem in the world today. As millions of people in industrial China and India move into the middle-class, there is a taxing demand on natural resources. The two most important -land and water- are being consumed at dizzying speeds. There are shocking numbers to prove that if the world and its denizens continue in its current vein of comsumption, we will be setting ourselves up for a period of mass starvation and economic privation.

This entire problem of overpopulation and food shortages cannot be traced to one particular source. A good number of conditions -some inevitable, some alterable- have led us to this point. The Industrial Revolution, increase global posperity, advancements in techonology, climate change, the subsequent shift to alternative fuels, underpriced commodities of land and water leading to wastage, the capitalist notion that posperity is only achieved by the accumulation of surplus and luxury goods, longer life expectancies, the lack of natural predators of Man. We are monsters of our own creation.

But 'why' is not what we should be asking right now. That's a history lesson for another day. At present, it is of paramount importance that we ask 'How do we reserve these trends?' and 'What will the situation be like 10 years from now?' If you've noticed, the poor countries and communities are first to suffer in resource shortages. Food riots are occuring in places like Haiti, Cameroon, Uzbekistan and Indonesia; places where poor locals spend almost 70% of their income on food alone. Meanwhile, all over the world, obesity rates are at all time highs, concentrated mainly in the affluent Northern countries. So while children starve, some broad is out there stuffing her Double-G cups with more spare ribs. Malthus also writes:

"The power of population is so superior than the power of the Earth to produce subsistence for man, that premature death must in some shape or other visit the human race".

So I guess the first to go would be the poor. And then the weak and the defenseless. Heck, while we're at it, why don't we just send all the homosexuals to Senegal and let them starve to Death. Don't forget the Muslims, they're evil too. And the chinks and the gooks and the Russians and the Chinese and the Japs and the Frenchies...In fact, I've come up with a revolutionary system. We just gather all the ugly chicks in this world and line them up against a wall. Or send them to Antigua where wild gibbons can rape them.We don't need these people. Just as long as we can get our ethanol plants and oilrigs running.

While there is still much to be desired from the international response to this situation, the optimistic are already falling back on the oft quoted solution to overpopulation: technological advancement. To be fair, they've got a point. We've managed to come this far entirely due to human ingenuity in the face of adversity. From there stemmed the wonderful discoveries of industrialized farms, genetically modified crops, irrigation, deep-sea drilling, inorganic fertilizer, refrigeration, desalination and so forth. So today we've managed to feed a village with just 5 loaves of bread and 5 pieces of fish. The whole county is coming over for dinner tomorrow and my friend Jesus has gone back to Puerto Rico on vacation.

Do we have the political will to reverse our troubles? Do we have the social determination to overcome our problems? What will be the trigger for our next Revolution? What will it be called? The Technological Revolution? The Charitable Revolution? The Dead Revolution? The International Revolution? Oktoberfest? The clock ticks on everyone of us.

Picks of the Week: Seventeen

2008-04-06T07:18:00.000-07:00

OffBeat: Didn't get much of a chance to do any writing over the weekend. However, just a quick update on the college admissions front: Williams College rejected me. That leaves me with two acceptances. Bates College it is, then. Also, I received the admissions packet from Lawrence. Wisconsin is wicked lovely! And their first year seminar covers Kafka. I shudder at the thought of intellectual stimulation. This is the foreplay I should have received in my deprived adolescence.

I've made some slight changes to my blog. Changed the player from Nackvision which requires me to upload my files to Project Playlist which actually has the files online. All you have to do is search for the music you want and add it to your playlist. The best thing about it? You playlist can contain up to 100 songs. Mind-boggling free service. The first song on my playlist is Placebo's cover of 'Running Up That Hill'. Kate Bush was the original singer of the song but we all can't really stand her whiny wailing voice. Besides, you know Placebo's version rocks when Q Magazine describes it as 'sound[ing] more like a pact with the Devil' than the original 'deal with God'.

Also, look out for the new links on my blog. I've meant to link these blogs for awhile. Do visit them as they're quite interesting reads. So the next time you're alone and in need of entertainment on a Friday night, instead of popping out another one on the old 'water pistol', keep it in your pants and visit one of the blogs. It'll require a whole lot less hand motion. FC, OUT!!!

Picks of the Week: Sixteen

2008-04-01T08:13:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: It's been a long and nerve-wracking wait but it's over and done with. US university admissions came out in trickles and spurts since last Friday. The list as of 1st of April:

Accepted: Bates College, Lawrence University

Waitlisted: Middlebury College, Macalester College

Rejected: Swarthmore College, Yale University, Harvard University

Pending: Williams College

As you can see, I did terribly in the college admissions game. Not only was I waitlisted for my dream school, Middlebury, but I was nigh near rejected or waitlisted by everyone else. Lawrence was my safety school, so my acceptance wasn't much of a surprise. But I supposed I could say I performed well under expectation for schools like Middlebury, Macalester and Swarthmore. This is not to say that I am a brilliant or top applicant of this country and also, I will do nothing to take away from the colleges the quality and sheer size of their applicant pools. But after caving yourself in day after day for so long and ensuring that you drive yourself to the foreseeable limits of whatever activities that you participate in, you expect some level of yield. This yield was unexpected.

Whichever way I analyze this, I've come to only two possible reasons for my waitlisting and rejections: 1) I wasn't good enough relative to the other applicants and 2) My application didn't do my achievements and abilities enough justice. Either way, the fault lies with me. Did my essay not resonate with the admissions officers? Was the subject matter too offbeat? Were my recommendation letters generic and lacking detail? Were my SAT scores too low? Did I not participate in enough international events? There is so much opportunity for self-loathing and blame. But I'm so tired of feeling miserable. I'm so tired of wondering what I lack in comparison to those Malaysians who made it into the places I long to enrol at. I know personally some of those people and I can say without a hint of irony or bitterness that they really do deserve their acceptances at schools of the highest quality.

Malaysians did quite well at US admissions this year. I see a lot of admits at a good deal of top notch schools -Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Dartmouth, Cornell, Chicago, Swarthmore, UCLA, NYU, UPenn. I won't be attending any of those schools. Instead, I'll probably be matriculating at Bates College, a small, highly-selective college located in Lewiston, Maine. It's highly ranked, highly respected and a really brilliant place to study. One of it's main claims to fame:

Counting Mr. David Chokachi as one of its alumnus. Mr. Chokachi is of course, also an alumnus of that great American cultural icon, Baywatch. Heck, if 4 years at Bates makes men look like that, I'm enrolling in a DAMN good school.

So there you go, the final chapter in the educational saga that has been the past 2 years. It hasn't ended the way I had dreamt it would -countless hours daydreaming about shaking hands opening a Yale letters that begins with 'Congratulations'- but it has ended nonetheless and quite satisfactorily. A big shoutout to Andrew Loh: friend, mentor and Swarthmore Class of 2010. You probably understand the contents of this post a whole lot more than most people.

To everyone else, thank you and goodnight.

Picks of the Week: Fifteen

2008-03-27T08:07:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: Today, I commited murder with my car. At least I think it was murder. Most living beings die after being run over a car. The story goes like this: I was innocently driven along the highway near Mont. Kiara on my way to rugby practice when this damn monitor lizard looking animal crosses the road in front of me. I tried to brake but considering the speed of my car and its sudden appearance on the road, there was no way to avoid the collision. There wasn't much to it. It was like running over a barely noticeable speed bump and a moment later, it was in my rearview window. I couldn't stop my car to check on it -I was on the bloody highway! In retrospect, I feel guilty but in my defense, there really wasn't anything I could do about it.

The Argument for Exclusion: I'm introducing a new section titled 'The Argument for Exclusion'. Basically, this section will contain all my self-righteous and poorly informed rants about the socio-economic political muddle that is Malaysia. As I will usually engage in some partisan railing against a particular topic, I believe that I will be arguing for the exclusion of the aforementioned topic from society. Aptly named, don't you think?

Most people should know by now that the Government is now recanting on its initial plan to further reduce fuel subsidies in our country. Even the marginally intelligent observer would recognize this move as a method of appeasing an irked electorate and to rebuild the establishment's image as a generous and benevolent Government. Yet, I'm truly disappointed with this announcement. This one moment gifted to the government to come good on its promise of transparent government and accountability, they sell down the river to distribute as an economic handout. Once again, they misconstrue the demands of the citizens. We don't really want money shoved down our throats when it seems convenient- some may beg to differ on the money part. In fact, people really aren't that averse to unpopular decisions. We just want a system of governance in which federal decisions are explained in painstaking detail such that even the most simple-minded folk have an idea of what's going on. When faced between a choice of displaying true character in government and unreasonable demagoguery, the Government chooses the latter. And they wonder why they lost so many votes.

Needless to say, I'm actually in favour of the reduction of fuel subsidies. It irritates me to see the Opposition front politicize the issue of rising commodity prices without actually providing the people with strong economic reasons other than the increase in the costs of living. But of course, most people don't stop to question the economic rammifications of most decisions, so long as they can make up next month's rent. That doesn't leave much by way of discussion.

First, I must establish that I'm not an environmentalist. Not in the conventional sense anyway. I think 4.0L V12 engines are as good as sex. If I had a chance, I'd fly first class to the grocery store down the road and back. I wash my car with a hose instead of a bucket and I'm proud of it. But the logic behind this is quite simple, isn't it? The higher the price of fuel, the less we use. Yet, we've reached such a level of dependency on petrol and diesel that there seems to be an insatiable thirst for the black stuff. According to a UNDP report, Malaysia produces USD$ 4.1 of GDP per unit of energy used. That puts us well behind countries such as Japan, the United Kingdom and Denmark. More telling is the fact that we're also placed behind countries such as Colombia, Sri Lanka and Namibia. Sure, one can make an argument that this indicator does not take into account the level of industrialization and population differences but you have to admit, at USD$ 4.1, we have a terrible rate of fuel efficiency.

The argument against fuel subsidies are not and should not be limited to the environmental aspect of things. Such, we're reaching peak oil, polar bears are drowning, George Michael is touring North America again and Al Gore deserves his Nobel Prize. But the economic aspect of things is much more telling of the situation. I picked up this interesting piece sourced directly from the National Economic Planning Unit. The numbers are slightly dated but that does nothing to dampen the truth behind them. In 2005, the Government subsidized each litre of petrol by 24 cents and diesel by 59 cents. On top of that, the Government also waived a sales tax of 58 cents per litre of petrol and 19 cents per litre of diesel. Fuel subisidies are expected to cost the government RM 35 billion in 2008. The waived sales taxes mean that the Government forfeited RM 7.6 billion in 2005. If you think those come up to mind-boggling numbers, well, no shit, Sherlock. Imagine what the Federal Government could've done with all that money. The schools, hospitals, transport systems and security forces that could've benefited from the injection of cash.

Essentially, what we're doing is creating price controls which any free market trader will tell you makes zero economic sense because our prices do not reflect global prices. By utilizing government funds to maintain this price control, we are perpetuating several problems: 1) the presense of an unnecessary deficit in the government budget 2) an opportunity cost of under-funded projects in the areas of education, transport, healthcare and defense due to the diversion of funds into subsidies and finally 3) a system of high taxation as the Government has to get the money to fund the subsidies from somewhere. Guess who's paying? The abolishment of a fuel subsidies will inevitably lead to something called cost-push inflation. Essentially, the prices of everything goes up, consumers lose confidence in the economy which precipitates a reduction in expenditure leading to an economic slowdown. Fuel subsidies appear to be the only way for us to avoid such an unfortunate outcome. But are we engineering a solution or merely a band aid response, hiding the problem till it metastasizes into a cancer too dangerous to ignore? Our insistence on maintaining fuel subsidies merely feeds into the psyche that they will forever be in place to protect our interests and shield us from the perils of open market prices. Does it sound like a similar policy? No points for guessing, but it's a 3 letter abbrevation starting with a 'N' and ending with a 'P'.

As it stands, we are one of the very few countries in Asia that continues to subsidize fuel prices. I cite the example of Singapore where Singaporeans have to pay RM 4 per litre of petrol. A lot of people are going to scoff at the idea of comparing petrol prices with a country with obvious fiancial advantages over us, but that's just escapism. Sure, theyir currency is stronger than ours and according to logic, when the conversion of their currency occurs, their prices don't differ with our by much. But taking into account purchasing power parity -a system in which you compare what a dollar of local currency buys in a local market with what a dollar of foreign currency buys in a foreign market- then the aforementioned perspective is altered drastically. Sure, the price of a carton of eggs in Singapore may be S$ 5, the same as our RM 5; but you can only get so far in life with eggs. The cost of living in Singapore is definitely much higher. We're talking about overpriced property prices, exorbitant healthcare costs, the 7% Goods and Service Taxand of course, the infamous Electronic Road Pricing system that robs unsuspecting drivers most surreptitiously. Still think we're having it worse than our friends down South? Over there, if you're drawing S$ 3,000 a month, you're considered borderline poor. Yet, they still find it in them to brave the lack of a fuel subsidy. So what makes us so different?

Simple, corruption. Even if, by some stroke of persuasive genius, the masses were convinced of a gradual but absolute abolition of fuel subsidies in our country, many people will still question -correctly- if the savings will trickle down to the citizens and improve our welfare or merely go into the construction of another Zakaria's Home of Fun and Adventure? This is where the Opposition rightly comes into the picture. Instead of chastisizing the Government for their efforts to do away with a money-draining policy, they should work instead to ensure that any savings as the result of the abolition of subsidies will go to the right areas. Table a resolution in the Dewan that mandates all fuel taxes be spent on the development of alternative energy sources. That way, we will actually be paying for the sustainable development of our country's resources. Impose a capital gains tax or a windfall tax on the local petroleum conglomerate Petronas requiring them to channel a percentage of their profits into alternative fuel ventures. Argue for the upgrade of public transportation systems nationwide to ease the burden on our overcrowded highways. Fight for the more efficient usage of non-renewable fuel sources such as petrol. If you're going to politicize an issue, make it something that will change our fortunes in the next 30 years instead of quibbling over how much prices will change tomorrow.

On this one issue, I find fault with both ends of the spectrum: the Government for its actions reeking of accommodate-ist misguidance and the Opposition for failing to demonstrate that they can, when it results in the common good of all people, look beyond partisan politics and actually work with the Establishment.

Picks of the Week: Fourteen

2008-03-19T17:14:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: This update is long overdue and I certainly meant to put this up on Monday, but things got slightly carried away. Considering the small demographic size of my most loyal readers, I’d like to take this opportunity to make a short but important announcement. I trust your discretion in the dissemination of the following information and would prefer a contained and most orderly response. Feel free to flood my tagboard or to sms me. But tell your neighbour’s sister’s accountant’s nephew’s gardener and I will sue you for breach of trust.

Having held you in suspense for thus long, here is the breaking news: On the 17th of March 2007, at approximately 2.35pm (local time), echo_slam –that’s me, you dim witted kitchen rag- was informed that he is the recipient of a scholarship from GIC to fund his undergraduate studies. For the friends of mine who do not view me as a threat to their career progress, cue the laughter and applause. For the friends of mine who think I’m out to banish them to packet soup and cream cracker meals for the rest of their lives, cue the contempt and opprobrium. At this juncture, I would just like to thank everyone –mostly the people who read my blog. I’ve already thanked my family and relatives. But to my best of friends –you bloody well know who you are- it has been an absolute pleasure having your friendship and I would never have had this opportunity without your support and advice. I know I often tell you people that I’ll amount to nothing in the future –and I still think that possibility is very real- but this time, I feel like I’ve arrived. The humblest of my thanks I lay at your doorsteps along with the reminder that I will never forget the likes of you people.

To answer some of the miscellaneous questions: Yes, I will be bonded; for a period of 6 years. Yes, they will pay for my lodging and tuition fees. Yes, I can study any course of my choice at any university of my choice with the approval of the personnel department of course. Yes, I will probably be stationed in Singapore upon graduation. No, I don’t think the food there tastes particularly good. Yes, I am incredibly pleased by the news. No, you cannot borrow RM 35,000 at a flat rate of 0.05%. No, I will not help you run your iguana farm.

If you really want to know the entire chronology of the application and interview, I’d be more than happy to walk you through it while it’s still fresh in my mind. However, most of you buggers already have scholarships of your own, so really, just bugger off. In the event, however, that you have friends or relatives or neighbours who are much younger and display an interest in applying for this scholarship, I’m definitely willing to share my experiences with them.

I went down to Singapore with 2 other girls from my college for our final interviews. We were the only 3 Malaysians for this particular round. Of the 3 of us, 2 were offered the scholarship. I have no idea how many Malaysians they take in on average a year. But as far as prestige goes, this scholarship will make you want to put your grandma’s grainy old knickers over your head. Yes, it’s that good.

Now, all that's left in the face of uncertainty is the result of my US university applications. Those come out on the 1st of April. Let's hope this patch of good news extends till then. FC OUT!!!

Picks of the Week: Thirteen

2008-03-10T19:23:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss. And a princess, I'm hoping, comes with this. Nar, I haven't really. In fact, I've been having a couple of terrible dreams of late. There was one in particular in which I was crying inconsolably to my mother- a most surprising fact considering I haven't cried at all in real life since late 2006. In fact, just as I was beginning to have doubts regarding the sanity of my emotional being- circa Christmas 2007 to be precise- I begin to cry in my dreams. Not quite like the real thing, I must say, but I'll take what's given to me. Imaginary tears are better than no tears, that's what I say!

In other news, if you haven't heard, the Malaysian elections are over and there were numerous surprises. Well, not so much surprises as they were vindications of what a lot of us have known for a long time: shit happens so let's correct it! I am but a humble smalltown boy with little grasp of politics and governance. My opinion counts for little. But I must say this. What we have done is elected a loosely allied Opposition coalition not without its share of leaders with suspicious intentions into office in several states. Bear in mind that most of the Alternative Front -for they are no longer Opposition- leadership have little or no experience in governance. The people have made their point and there is now change. But will it be equitable change? Everyone has another 4 years to make their own conclusions. Lim Kit Siang sums it best when he said, 'If the people can decisively reject the Barisan, they can also reject the DAP.' We can expect Barisan to do everything within their power -and beyond it- to regain any ground lost. The next 4 years will be critical for both sides.

With large portions of the population still revelling in the euphoria of the unexpected victories, some people are beginning to whisper of a new democracy in our country; one that closely resembles the two party system of the USA with Republicans and Democrats on opposing sides. To those people I say: do not be deluded by the latest wave of super-happy-funtime feeling. It will be a long time before we can even boast of a democratic maturity as displayed by the so called 'functional democracies' of the West. There are in place, structural and inherent difficulties which will continue to impede our country's potential for a bi-party system. This victory doesn't represent a win for democracy and freedom of speech. It merely represents a victory allowed within the confines of an existing system. The system, prevails nonetheless. Still, a start in any form is still a step forward. How a visibly changed Dewan Rakyat votes in the next 4 years will be indicative of whether we, as a nation, are ready to broach tougher questions such as the repeal of certain laws and acts. Be forewarned, the Malaysian political scene will not be as exciting as this in a long,long time. Side effects include demonstrations, arrests without warrant, inexplicable bouts of line dancing, missing domestic pets and global warming.

Also, I am done with my A-Levels! My results came out yesterday and I got what I was aiming for, 4As. I didn't even get the opportunity to collect the results myself. The Department manager just had to call me and inform me beforehand. Damn potong steam. I'm happy, of course. Didn't jump for joy or remove my trousers like I thought I would. I just felt really relieved. Nothing much occurs in the brain when informed of the results except for the sudden snap of thousands of synapses and nerves all telling me the same thing: Jessica Alba looks even hotter now that she's pregnant. There you go, ladies and gentlemen, an insight into the mind of an A-Levels 4A student: vacuous, vain and very pregnant.

Now, all that is left is to wait for my US university admissions results. Yale didn't contact me for an alumni interview. Hmnn...should that be taken as a bad sign? Finally, I regret to inform you that I am now employed fulltime. Yes, I work in an office. Yes, I have to put on officewear everyday. Yes, I look incredibly handsome. Yes, if you're an incredibly beautiful girl with a caring personality and a wonderful sense of humour, you may call me, buy me a drink or two and take me home to be your love kamikaze. Batteries included separately. FC OUT!!!

Picks of the Week: Twelve

2008-02-27T06:23:00.000-08:00

A Day in the Life: It's been over 2 weeks since I last posted. Not much has happened since then. Well, I think the PM announced the date of the general elections but heck, that hardly counts as an occurrence. Not in my country, at least. Anyway, just to get the formalities over with, two weekends equals to two games over and done with. I didn't start in the Cobra Sting (that's the name of the B team) game but I came on the last 5 minutes. We lost the game 17-0 but I think we gave a decent account of ourselves. My contribution to the game was one tackle and a 60 metre dash downfield to clear on to dear life while a large Caucasian man did his best impersonation of a mule carrying two local chaps. Highly entertaining stuff. Last weekend, we play Ex-Angels at the UPM field. First time I've ever been to Serdang. Wasn't too impressed with the environs. They didn't even have a toilet, pitchside. I had to take a bloody leak behind some dilapidated wood shed. Felt like BigFoot could come out of the nearby woods any moment and snatch my anal virginity. What can I say, my rear end arouses most man-primates. Now, the Ex-Angel game was absolutely horrific. They had a couple of ex-national players and their backs were immensely intelligent in the attack. I started the game and played a good 60 minutes or so until I pulled my ankle. In the first half alone, we conceded 4 tries. None of them came from my channel -they kept running the inside lines- which absolved me of any guilt, but had they tried the wide ball, they would have probably rounded me as well.

On a good note, I played quite aggressively and managed to introduce myself to the opposing winger early in the game off a kickoff. He seemed almost as green as me, catching the ball but not knowing what to do with it. A second or two later and I was atop him like BigFoot snatching someone's anal virginity. An incident of particular note was when an opposing player was stamped on in the second half and another opposition player was pulled over the ruck before getting twacked-lightly of course!- over the head. By the time everyone was out of the ruck, he looked at me and went, 'Ko tengok la nanti, ko kena'. Of course, being the affable Chinese man that I was, I smiled at him and immediately asked to be substituted out of the game. It is not in my nature to play dirty and to engage in unsportsmanlike behaviour on the pitch. It is also not in my nature to speak about the times when I do engage in such behaviour. It is absolutely not in my nature to admit to participating or inciting any unsportsmanlike behaviour. It is not in my nature to discuss why it's not in my nature.

Also, I had my Harvard interview. I was interviewed by two prominent local figures. Bear in mind though, that almost all applicants get an alumni interview, so getting the interview does not exponentially increase one's chances of getting admitted. I managed to speak to the applicant before me and he informed me that his interview lasted slightly below an hour. Mine lasted less than half and hour. As the great philosopher Miley Cyrus once said, 'I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading the signs'. In my opinion, the interview didn't go well at all. But that just my opinion, and heck, what do I know? I'm just another smalltown Chinaman who can't tell the difference between my left and your right. I met a very wise man much later who spoke to me about the interview and he made a a few really good points about how I may have presented myself in the interview disadvantageously.

But one point stuck incredibly strongly in my mind. He asked me why I wanted to study in Harvard: 'Is it because it is THE best university in the world?' And I replied that it is a very strong university. Needless to say, his reaction to my response wasn't quite favourable. In his mind, my replies had to be much more committed and decisive than 'very strong'. His reasoning was simple: if a university is to award me an amount in excess of USD$ 45,000 a year to study there, they had better be sure that they're admitting a student who really REALLY wants to be there. 'Very strong' doesn't get you $45,000. 'Very strong' doesn't even get you a cup of Starbucks from the store down the road. I was told, that my response gave the impression that if I don't get the offer, I would live and 'just look for something else'. My interviewers don't want to hear or see someone like that. What my mentor -for want of other terms- said made a lot of sense and I do not dispute his logic. But I have spent quite some time trying to come to terms with what he said and to reconcile his thoughts with my own.

So far, I've only generated more questions, but not much by way of answers. The fact is, my response does seem ambivalent if compared to what other applicants may say. But does that make me less passionate about attaining my dreams? I will move on and look for something else if I don't get admitted to Harvard or Yale or any of my top choice universities, but only because I am all too aware of the percentages and rates of success. I am realistic, but only because I've conditioned myself to be so. Statistics sober you up in a manner that no whimsical rhetoric can. If I'm practical about my chances, a letter of rejection doesn't hurt as much. If realism makes me ambivalent, then I am doomed to forever appearing lukewarm. 'Very strong' doesn't convey how much I want to go to the US to study. It doesn't tell listeners how I've always wanted it since I was a child. It doesn't even inform others why I want to go to the US. Aren't Harvard and Yale merely interchangeable brand names? If I was offered places by both universities today, which one would I choose? Why? I could not for a million years answer those questions.

Do I say what I think interviewers want to hear? Do I say what I think I want to hear? Does it even matter what I say at the end of the day? Next door, downstairs, across the street and down it, people live life without having ever pondered these questions. Am I special or merely flawed? For are there not more important things to think about and those of us worrying about the intricacies of universities admissions begin to lose sight of what this whole thing is really about. In the end, months and months culminate in one realisation: that we are just another statistic. Better an admitted statistic than a rejected one.

OffBeat: Been listening to a bit of Lacuna Coil. One particularly charming user on YouTube called them 'pop music in black clothes'. Outstanding comment, sir! Also, I watched Jumper that day. Hayden Christensen? Gomer Pyle meets Forrest Gump. Rachel Bilson? One of the hottest women on the planet. I first noticed her on The OC, I loved her in Chuck and goddamn was she fine in Jumper. Unfortunately, she's not quite as intelligent as my true love, Kate Beckinsale who attended Oxford University. Also, Ms. Beckinsale was voted in as the 3rd hottest female in AskMen's annual poll. Well done, Ms. Beckinsale! FC OUT!

Picks of the Week: Eleven

2008-02-15T18:20:00.000-08:00

A Day in the Life: Went for Pei Jean's farewell last night. Must've been one of the oddest nights out of my life, especially the little walkabout after dinner at 1Utama and the Curve. Reminds me of good ol' days with Malique and Tim at a certain Tesco parking lot at 2 in the morning- minus the constant camwhoring of present company of course. Bye bye, Pei Jean! You've been a good friend. I'll miss you!

I'm dead fatigued right now. Out of his infinite wisdom, echo_slam decided last night to self-medicate whilst amongst his friends to stem the fast growing headache that was building in his head. So he ordered an iced cafe latte. At 11pm. Sheer genius, this chap. I ended up reading till about 3.30 in the morning and still couldn't fall asleep. I venture I got about 1 and a half hours of fitful sleep last night. And I'm starting in this evening's game against Cobra B. Why, oh, why do I do this to myself? Ah well, it was worth it. Couldn't well be descending into a self-immolating exhibition of twisted flesh and mangled figures smack in the middle of a friend's farewell. Remind me again why I try to be so nice to my friends.

A most peculiar thought struck me. A lot of my good-looking friends have or are going off to Australia to study. Fine, 3 of my good-looking friends count themselves as part of the Aussie brigade. Not quite enough to form a linear regression model but enough to intrigue the mind. Am I applying to the wrong bloody country? Right, my stomach is curdling at the thought of a damn Fijian winger putting cleat marks all over my face. I shall go rest now, that I may stop those darned Cobra backs or injure myself severely trying. FC, out!

Picks of the Week: Ten

2008-02-13T05:45:00.000-08:00

OffBeat: Not feeling too well today. I've got a light fever and what appears to be an inflammed throat. I'm no medical expert but I'm pretty sure my muscous shouldn't be a light shade of green. Must be the rubbish I've been eating of late. Chinese New Year usually equates to warmer than usual tropical weather and unsupervised bingeing on nutritionally bankrupt food groups. My whole body aches right now. Not sure if that's due to my sickness or because of yesterday's rugby training. It's been awhile since I've done a programme like that. My earliest memories of unforgiving cardio sessions involving multiple wind sprints and circuit training are from high school. I remember feeling very close to my Creator. On some occasions, I could have sworn I saw a white light. Or maybe it was just the colour of my coach's shirt as he pushed us thorugh another intestine rearranging exercise. Absolutely baffling, this exercise business. It remains the only domain where pain is not only encouraged but altogether revered. You want to make a terrorist divulge all information about future acts of terror? Just make him do 3 sets of 4X150s with 45seconds of recovery in between.

Keeping in line with the aimlessness of this post, I would just like to say that Robbie Savage, current Captain of Derby County bears a striking resemblance to David Wenham who played Faramir in Lord of the Rings. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Exhibits A and B:

One is a swash-buckling Australian and the other is a hard-tackling Welshman. Both are very good looking men, I must say. There's something about men with ponytails and goatees.

Picks of the Week: Nine

2008-01-30T04:58:00.000-08:00

A Day in the Life: I'm officially done with my A-Levels. I will remain officially done with my A-Levels until my A Levels results come out. Then, I'll probably be officially done with life as I know it. 4 subjects. Anything less than 4As is unacceptable, mainly for 2 reasons: 1) I need those scores to end up in the schools of my choice and 2) It's my fault if I screw my papers to kingdom come. I've got a history of sabotaging my own chances at self-improvement. Usually, it's my lazy, proscrastinating behaviour that gets me in trouble. It says a lot about how you spend your time when all you can remember of the past 6 months is multiple episodes of Friday Night Lights, Bleach, over a dozen movies, late night DoTA sessions and just plain sitting around shooting the bull with your roommate. If television watching confers degrees, I'd be a PhD. candidate by now.

Unfortunately, things don't work out that way. Prior to the exams, I had the anxiety of not knowing how to answer the questions. Now that the papers are over and it is officially established that I DON'T KNOW how to answer the questions, I worry about the scores I'll get back. And then, there's the issue of my SAT scores. I had to resit my SAT II papers because the last time I took them, I got scores that would make my Standard 6 Math teacher blush. So, I decided to resit the papers again this January -the last available test date, mind you- and of course, I had only one more chance to get it right. Once again, because I was too busy cramming for my A-Levels, I neglected my SAT prep and went into the hall all confident that I had absolutely nothing in my brain. Come February the 14th, no prizes for guessing what kind of scores I'll receive.

Months and months of anxiety and daydreams and this is what I'm finally reduced to: an amalgamation of insipidity, pure foolishness, cowardice and indecision derived from the deepest and darkest abyss of the world. Well, at least I've retained some measure of self-esteem. The idea that I'll never even touch the hems of the schools I applied to scare the living daylights out of me. My friends are leaving already -those who are Aussie bound- but I'm still stuck in my version of education purgatory. Everyday I wake up with the unshakeable feeling that this is my doing; all of this is the result of my own folly. In fact, a part of me feels that I absolutely deserve to burn in this anguish for not getting my shit together and pushing with my all to get to the end point I desire. Perhaps this is my wake up call to remind me that life -inspite of its delightfully misleading trappings of joy and happiness- cuts just as deep when you allow it to. There's no Mulligans in life, no chance at a redo.

Sometimes it feels like I'm trapped in a recurring nightmare, relived everyday I wake up. I thought 2007 was bad but 2008 seems like a continuation of that stretch. Truth be told, I'm quite sick of things. I'm sick of how things have turned out, I'm sick of my surroundings, I'm sick of people, I'm sick of their opinions and I'm sick of having to fear what tomorrow brings. That's just wrong. I shouldn't feel conflicted about life. It's too early for that. But I just cannot bring myself to see, hear or feel anything familiar anymore. Maybe it's because they remind me of what I used to aspire to; that which now seems not even remotely possible. Somethings are better left forgotten and never evoked again. So somedays I wake up and live life trying to decide what to remember and what to forget, what to embrace and what to flee from. This is no way to live.

Come what may, the end of A-Levels means many different things on many different levels. But most of all, it means that I'll have a few months of sheer nothingness. I intend to fully waste my God given brain cells by engaging in most if not all of the following activities:

1) Learn a foreign language

2) Master chess

3) Clean my room

4) Find a new roommate

5) Put on 5kg of muscle mass

6) Come achingly close to contracting an STD from a mutual associate in Pat Phong

7) Turn into a slogan chanting member of the proletariat

8) Turn into a slogan chanting member of the aristocrat

9) Learn to sing the national anthem backwards

10) Participate in at least one extreme sport

11) Save enough money for that Hugo Boss suit

12) Grow facial hair

13) Refer to number 6

In light of my newfound free time, I might actually blog more often. Now ain't life grand?

Picks of the Week: Eight

2007-10-02T08:41:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: It's funny how the things we always take for granted come back to haunt our dreams and strangely manifest themselves in our lives. The world passes us by everyday and we venture into our lives absolulely blinkered from a reality outside of ours. Why do people change and if they do, when do they change? When and how we do things is just as important as why we do certain things. At the moments, I've been experiencing faint recollections of a past that I loved and still care about deeply. On top of your voices, now, boys:

Welcome, welcome, welcome,

Greet we the honoured and dear,

Welcome, welcome, welcome,

All that we love and revere.

It's been almost 2 years since I left and never have I heard a song of such nature before. I think we owe it to ourselves to maintain the traditions that mean the most to us. Life is about that: leaving great legacies and cherishing those that have been passed on to us. History is not retrospective; because we inherit it and give life to it everyday of our lives. Of course, I used to sing it as "Velakam Velakam Velakam..." in honour of my Indian friends. I'm not the best of examples. In a few days, if my Internet gets any better, I'll be uploading a new list of songs. I've got some awesome tunes for that dark, melancholic and moody day. I've been ingesting a lot of dark vibes of late. It's really not healthy.

P.S. I can't bloody generate paragraphs. Apparently the blogspot doesn't believe in neat paragraphs and spacing. Anyone with any solutions by way of a HTML code?

Picks of the Week: Seven

2007-08-24T23:43:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: The last weekend -referring to the 18th and 19th of August- was quite the eventful weekend. By some grand stroke of luck, I had the pleasure of experiencing for the first time in my life 2 exciting and entirely international events. The first was the Guiness Jonah Jones Sevens Tournament of 2007. It was a rugby sevens tournament held in Royal Selangor Club, Bukit Kiara and featured teams from all over the country and some foreign countries too. As the name suggests, sevens rugby features seven players as opposed to the more common fifteens played at the rugby World Cup. The Jonah Jones tournament is an annual event organised by Royal Selangor Club- the club which I play for. Some of the best teams in the nation attend this prestigious 2-day tournament including NS Wanderers, COBRA, Bandar Penawar Sports School and Malaysia's Youth Squad -they called themselves Hibiscus for some reason. We were also lucky enough this year to see in action several foreign teams including Singapore Vandals, Prince Songkhla of Thailand and Hong Kong Dragons. These foreign teams brought many of their national players and they played breathtaking rugby. Hong Kong Dragons emerged as the champions in the senior category and I had the opportunity to watch them play against NS Wanderers, champions of Jonah Jones '05. Suffice to say, the Dragons showed themselves to be a class above every other team on the pitch that day. It is one thing to watch rugby games on the telly, but to actually watch the action pitchside and to experience to vigours of the game they played instilled in me a newfound respect for international sides worldwide.

Luckily, I was thrown immediately into the deep end of things. I played in the Colts or the Youth category of the tournament. Naturally, I played for the club which I had been training with for the past year or so, the Royal Selangor Club.

It was my first ever rugby tournament and I had all these conflicting emotions. I was anxious, excited, nervous, frightened, self-conscious and at times, just plain overwhelmed. It didn't help that I was made Captain of the side. The coaches announced the decision the evening before the tournament and I voiced my objection to the coach, Jeff. In my mind, I was not experienced enough as a player to lead the team, nor was I the most skillful or the strongest. But Jeff told me that the captain doesn't need to be the best player on the field. Being captain isn't about winning games for the team, he said. It's about how you influence the others on the pitch. By far, I was the most vocal in the team on the pitch and I had been at the club for long enough to be viewed as a senior in the team. When he said that, I had a hidden suspicion that he selected me simply because I yelled at the team a lot during practice matches. But that was what I was taught at the club. Rugby players don't keep silent. Only gymnasts and swimmers do sports in silence.

So, I played as centre -that's the position between the fly-half and the winger. For more information regarding rugby positions, go to this link. We played 3 matches on the first day. And we lost all 3. Our team started training merely 2 weeks before the competition. The losses weren't surprising. We played some strong teams such as NS Perantau and X-Juniors (UiTM's rugby team). But on the first day, we managed to score tries in all our matches. On the second day, we had 2 matches also. We lost both too. I won't go into specifics regarding the scoring and the stages of the competition -cup,plate, shield, bowl and spoon. To many, the tournament may have been a disaster for us. But I'm really glad I had the opportunity to take part in such a wonderful event. I got closer to all the youth players in the club and also with the seniors. When we didn't play, we cheered the seniors and while we played, the seniors and some of the drunken old farts cheered the Colts on. I managed to score 2 tries of the total 4 tries that my team scored in the whole competition. Not bad for someone who picked up the sport just a year ago. At the end of the day, the tournament wasn't about victories. It was about experience. I personally learnt so much from this tournament and took away such great memories of the whole event. As the captain of a losing side, I exposed myself to such self-scrutiny that I have never experienced since the debate losses in Korea. The consequence of hindsight is the desire to right unalterable mistakes and to pay penance for sins, past and present. I asked for forgiveness in my own way.

The only jersey worth putting on.

I would have preferred number 3 but they didn't have that number in my size.

Some badges you have to earn the right to wear.

echo_slam atoning for his sins. I'm quite pleased with how I look, to be honest.

On the 19th, which was a Sunday, I also headed off to Bukit Jalil Stadium with my best mate and virtual blood brother, fusion16 for the Champions Youth Cup Finals. The finals was between Man Utd and Juventus while the 3rd/4th placing was between AC Milan and Flamengo. The football was alright -these were the youth teams of under-21 and most of them were under-19. But the atmosphere was quite eclectic and I managed to score grandstand seats for me and my mate, so we were seated inches away from the teams and only a few meters away from the players' tunnel.

Ticket says it all. 'GRANSTAND', baby!

Bukit Jalil Stadium, from the outside. The LRT stops right at its doorstep. The stadium is quite impressive in size.

A photo taken from the top of the stands during the Ac Milan-Flamengo match. It's quite a good shot.

The Flamengo team lining up to receive their winners medals. They whacked AC Milan 3-1. The last goal from a freekick was a beauty. I remember saying something along the lines of "If this goes in, I'll kiss his head" but the Flamengo player took the kick. Needless to say, the ball ended in the back of the net.

The Man Utd and Juventus players taking their places on the pitch. If you look on the left, number 4 is Fabian Brandy, the only Man Utd player who looked capable of playing football. But he's quick, strong and is good off the ball. He's one to watch for the future.

The Barcelona team, who was seated just a few rows behind us. They were quite popular with the local girls -and some of the local guys.

Now, this chap here deserves special mention. He was the announcer for the day. He's also a top-class tosser. He gives Malaysians a bad name. To start with, he couldn't speak English to save his life. He kept pronouncing 'substitution' as 'suvsdidution'. Bloody numbnuts! fusion16 and I were absolutely unhappy with him and we made it very clear: we kept calling him 'bodoh' and 'kayu'. Actually, I did most of the yelling. So well done, sir, whoever you may be.
The surprisingly large number of Juventus supporters. They kept singing Italian chant songs that sounded like Cantopop.

The even bigger group of Man Utd supporters. Most of them were from the Man Utd fanclub of Malaysia. These chaps went absolutely rabid when Man Utd scored. It was as though Elvis came back to life or something.
The Mancunian chaps with the Holy Grail. They won 1-0 courtesy of a Fabian Brandy goal. A pretty good individual effort by Mr. Brandy.

Special mention of Dario Campagna. He's the captain of the losing Juventus side. He looked absolutely disconsolate after the loss. Here he's talking to the coach and a few seconds later, he breaks out in tears. He showed heart -the sort of heart I see in another inspirational player, Steven Gerrard- and I hope this chap goes far in his career.

Also, special mention to Ayub Daud, a dimunitive African player who just had to show up to receive the undulating attention of echo_slam. His only contribution to the game? Masquerading as a left-back when his position is at left wing.

For more pictures, visit the rest of my photo set. That's all for now; to infinity and BEYOND!

Picks of the Week: Six

2007-08-14T23:22:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life: The last time I updated was in February. As you can see, I have a problem with this blogging thing. I can't seem to come to terms with the fact that blogging requires active and constant updating of one's blog. Blogging is like KFC to me; sometimes, you just can't have too much. Also, I've come to realise that I don't blog regularly due to my horrible literary sense. For example, likening blogging to fried chicken.

Well, for those of you who don't know, I had the rare and indeed, honoured privilege of representing the country in the World Schools Debating Championship of 2007, held in Seoul, South Korea. I won't go into too many details regarding the competition and our performance. For that, please feel free to read my teammate, Zhi Wei's report which was published in The Star newspaper quite recently. The report also features a picture of a visibly irrate echo_slam. I usually don't partake in too many picture taking sessions -something about my camera averse personality- and on the rare ocassions when I do acquiese to a photograph, I tend not to smile. But I was bordering on growling in this particular photograph because I wasn't exactly excited by the prospect of taking a photograph with the Malaysian flag in the middle of Kuala Lumpur International Airport. Surely there are tter places to take photographs of oneself.

The aforementioned photograph. If you look closely, you can see the signs leading to the Departure Hall in the back.

Now, on with the rest of my post. I've compiled what I believe are the best photos to illustrate significant portions of my trip to Seoul. Some photographs are not brilliantly taken and these photographs do not do justice to my experiences in Seoul. But then again, I was the only one in my team without a digital camera OR a camera phone.

Let's start with a picture of the team. Clockwise from left: Misyhan Kumar, 16-year old moron. Good for losing things such as dictionaries and almanacs and crappy research. But, occasionally, he surprises everyone with moments of brilliance. Ang Jian Wei, 18-year old Bank Negara scholar who's now in INTEC, Shah Alam doing Lord knows what. He was the First Speaker. Good for...eating. He gorged on a lot of comfort food. John Lee, (standing right) Securities Commission scholar. An ex-student of SMK Damansara Jaya. Also 18 years old. He was the Reserve. Good for interrupting people in the middle of their speech and sudden religious outbursts. echo_slam fondly refers to him as his "brother in Christ". echo_slam (seated right), is the oldest in the team, clocking in at 19 years old. He has no prestigious scholarship and currently flails in educational limbo. Good for dirty jokes and well, dirty jokes. Lee Zhi Wei (seated centre) is an 18-year old Bank Negara scholar. With 13A1s, he was the top scorer for SPM in Johor. He currently attends Kolej Tunku Jafar. Zhi Wei was echo_slam's closest friend in the team and they bunked together in the same hotel room, often to disastrous effect. Zhi Wei was the Second Speaker. Good for coming from a backwater podunk town of Batu Pahat, Johor; and being the best speaker in the team. So this was whom Malaysia decided to send as their representatives: 4 degenerates and a Neanderthal from Johor who's never seen a Tesco in his life.

On the 1st of July, we boarded the 1 am flight from KLIA to Incheon International Airport. The aeroplane was small and crammed, the service was below average, I couldn't get much sleep and the food was outlandishly horrible. It was as though they tried to make the food taste bad. The plane landed in South Korea at about 8.30am (Local Time) and we were ferried off to our residence, the Imperial Palace Hotel. It's a 5-star place, very posh and impressive decor. But a hotel only holds so many charms before it becomes old.

Here's a picture of echo_slam taking a nap upon arrival in South Korea.

We debated on the third day and there were some tours organised for the participants and coaches but we opted not to go for them to work instead on our speeches and caselines. Not that it did us any good in the long run. But in the later stages, we did manage to go out a bit and explore the wonders of Seoul. Not to sound terribly unethusiastic, but the city is like any other bustling metropolis in this world. In fact, it seems eeriely similar to Kuala Lumpur. Loads of people, terrible drivers, expensive goods, dozens of skyscrapers and hundreds of billboards. But after awhile, you learn to appreciate the little nuances that distinguish Seoul from our own capital. For example, the city is perfectly safe at night. I would know. My team and I decided to go on a little walk-about one night at midnight. We were tourists in a foreign land looking for McDonalds armed with nothing but a map and echo_slam's keen sense of direction. I think we walked about 8 city blocks before we found a 24-hour McDonalds in the heart of Seoul's shopping district. Unfortunately, our hotel was located in the business district where everything closes at 10pm. Throughout our travels across the vast empty streets of Seoul, never once did we meet a vagrant, or a drunkard or a crackhead. Not once were we molested or harmed. In fact, we stumbled upon a few women, walking alone and talking into their handphones, seemingly oblivious to their state of lonesomeness. If they had done that in the heart of KL, well, they'd make the frontpage of local dailies the next morning -for all the wrong reasons.

Also, the people there are incredibly friendly although I suspect it's because we're tourists. The locals don't speak much English at all but a smattering of them speak some Chinese. We got by when ordering food. The public transport system is incredibly efficient. While at the airport, we noted that buses ferrying people from the airport to the city appeared every 5 minutes without fail. The subway runs well past midnight and the trains are always quite full. It seems the Koreans have culture of making full use of public transportation.

A picture of Seoul from the top of the Seoul Tower. It's something like the KL Tower but the Seoul version seems to be a favourite dating spot for many locals. The open spaces and the lovely scenery really does make it a very romantic destination.

At this point, I feel that it is imperative that I emphasize very strongly that the food in Korea ROCKS! It's not as good as nasi lemak, assam laksa, satay and all the other Malaysian favourites but in general, the food there taste really good. The Koreans revere beef. If you don't consume beef, Korea would not be the most ideal travel destination. Unfortunately, we had 2 team members who did not eat beef so we had several KFC dinners. (Note to all: KFC is bollocks!) But we had some pretty original Korean dishes too. I'm sure most people are well acquainted with Korean barbeque. It's strips of pork or beef grilled on a hot plate over red-hot charcoal. The meat is supposed to be wrapped in mustard leave with bits of mint, some sweet sauce and a pinch of salt & pepper mix. The result: robust, smokey flavours courtesy of the meat tempered by the cool and crisp greens. It's a new way of ingesting meat; kinda like a grilled meat salad.

A pretty picture of the meat being grilled, along with mushrooms, onions and what I believe to be a piece of carrot.

echo_slam with his most prized possession: a piece of paper that says 'No beef please' in Korean.

This is bibimbap, a rice dish mixed with meat, an assortment of vegetables and egg. It's really quite nutritious.

This is a bowl of Korean red soup. It's like a Korean version of tom yam but slightly sweeter and minus the seafood. This stuff is absolutely lethal. I'm pretty good with spicy food but I swear, the Nazis used this stuff for their eugenics program.

While we were in Korea, the organisers also brought in some performers of the Nanta show. It's a form of traditional Korean percussion performance but with a modern twist and set in a kitchen with 4 chefs. A lot of the foreign teams likened it to Stomp! Personally, I've never watched Stomp! but the Nanta show was pretty darn good as far as I am concerned. The performers used pretty basic objects -knives, buckets, brooms, pots-to produce different sounds and the jokes made the entire act really engaging and interesting. If you ever get to Korea, do catch them:

Here are a few random shots:

After the debate against Ireland.

echo_slam looking incredibly business-like.

echo_slam trying on a woman's hat at a night market. I look really good in this shot, though.

My ride home!

Well, that's the end of what must be my longest post to date. I spent 3 hours on this post, just uploading pictures and working on the alignments. Can't understand why anyone would want to be a webmaster. Till the next time, people!

Picks of the Week: Five

2007-02-25T07:38:00.000-08:00

It's Sunday and everyone deserves a little humour just to get the week started. Monday blues are incredibly difficult to shrug off. I had the opportunity to catch a few movies in the past month or so - Borat being one of them. So now, I bring you 2 scenes of 2 different shows that I watched lately: Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Anchorman- The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Enjoy...

Picks of the Week: Four

2007-02-23T04:32:00.000-08:00

This Chinese New Year has been interesting to say the least. It hasn't been eventful as in Berlin Wall eventful, but it had its moments. Here's why:

1. Location

Very important point, this one. I didn't go back to fair Ipoh for New Year's this year. The geniuses at my college informed us that they'd only be giving 2 days worth of holidays so I didn't buy a bus ticket home. However, just before the break, lecturers start cancelling class or rescheduling them, giving me almost a week off. Bus tickets across the nation had already dried up by then -unless you're living on Pulau Ketam where there aren't any roads- so yours truly spent New Year's in Kuala Lumpur. All the same, I didn't want to go through the national debacle called traffic jam. My parents scooted down and we had our reunion dinner at my uncle's where I resided for several days. The ang pow collection wasn't that great this year due to the lack of extended family in Kl but I can't complain. Cash is cash.

2. Carrots and Sticks

The local media has provided some much needed seasonal cheer. Apparently, the Baling Putera UMNO division plans on rewarding the upstanding citizens that are the Mat Rempits for catching snatch thieves. Such ingenuity and resourcefulness is rarely displayed in the day-to-day administration of our nation. Indeed, this plan may prove to be so successful that our policemen can eventually get back to doing what they do best: blowing up beautiful Mongolian models. For every 30 snatch thieves caught, these Mat Rempits get a motorcycle. I don't see our CID officers getting a BMW for every murder case they solve. And of course our taxes should be spent on rewarding these noble-hearted Mat Rempits instead of being invested in improving the efficiency of our police force. Why, these Mat Rempits may even develop into a highly specialized judiciary system that we can put them into the Constitution. As for their powers of arrest, I'm sure they would coax the snatch thieves into riding shotgun on their Vespas as they ferry them to the police station for some good-natured questioning. Such diplomatic people, these snatch thieves. Only when they turn violent would the Mat Rempits be allowed the use of force in detaining them. Soon after the Mat Rempits are allowed the use of force, other 'vigilante' groups such as the Malaysian Pork Sellers Association and the Malaysian Dental Association will also request that they be allowed to carry batons while performing their crime solving duties.

In other news, the Terengganu State Government will be looking to Mat Skodings to aid the state's religious department into detecting and curbing immoral activities. In Malay colloquialism, Mat Skoding translates to Peeping Tom. Once again, these "undercover agents" will be rewarded for accurate reports and tip-offs. Ostensibly, the function of these individuals is to reduce the incidence of adultery, pre-marital sex and close proximity. Apparently, they are held in higher regard than the common Peeping Tom because their job is to report such immoral acts. The logic is that if I stand around all day near hotels and parks waiting for couples to get their jollies off, watch them and perhaps film them for an indiscreet amount of time and call in the enforcements officers when I seem satisfied, then I am a responsible and moral citizen of my community. If I stand around all day near hotels and parks waiting for couples to get their jollies off, watch them and film them for an indiscreet amount of time but don't call in the enforcement officers, then I should be jailed for my transgression. The only difference seems to be a valid ID stating that you are a verified "spy" in the employment of the state government. Lustful individuals across the nation should view this as an opportunity to satisfy their voyueristic fetishes while being of service to their community. I was just wondering if these individuals contribute to the nation's GDP while sitting around all day waiting for couples to get freaky. How do these individuals explain their job scope and requirements to their families and friends?

Another classic public policy courtesy of an individual from the state of Terengganu is that women should wear chastity belts to "avert sex perpetrators". Any intelligent quip I had regarding this issue was silenced the moment the same individual suggested that the chastity belt would help husband feel more secure. Lord help the woman who is his wife.

3. Unconventional Recreation

On the third day of Chinese New Year, I made my way with the rest of the clan to 1 Utama for a spot of shopping and some lunch. As I was in my usual state of insolvency, I didn't care much about the shopping. The place wasn't as packed as it normally is during a holiday. In fact, most of Selangor and Kuala Lumpur cleared out during the holidays. I swear, you could run naked through some neighbourhoods without anyone noticing. But I digress. After several hours of walking aimlessly through 1 Utama, I decided to check out its latest recreational facility: the batting cages located on the upper roof. It wasn't a very big place. It had 4 batting cages for baseball and 3 batting cages for softball. The set-up was pretty straightforward. One token entitles you to 15 balls. You can also opt for a another package based on time: none-stop play for either 15 minutes of half an hour. The machine launches the ball at you at speeds of 40,50,60 or 70 mph depending on which speed you choose. To cater the the varying height of Malaysians, there are buttons to calibrate the pitching angle up or down. It was pretty fun. I daresay I make a decent baseball player. Of course, my one complaint is that of 15 balls, you usually waste the first 5 to 7 trying to adjust the machine to pitch at a suitable height. But when you get the settings right and you start hitting the balls at pace, you fall into a enjoyable rythmn. Occasionally, you connect with the sweet spot on the bat and you can feel the ball launch towards the stratosphere. On the more unlucky occasions, you stand too close in the pitch zone and the ball travelling at 60mph smacks you right in the fist. It didn't hurt that badly. Just went red for a day or so. I started off with 2 token for RM 11. The guy at the counter tossed me an extra token because it was my first time. Later, my third token was swallowed by the machine so I went to the counter to complain. As a result of some gross miscalculation or a display of sheer generosity, I ended up playing 4 token at the price of 2. Outstanding stuff.

4. The Norwegian, the Welshman and the Spaniards

I was incredibly stoked that I got the chance to catch some Champions League action this week. The good people of Media Prima were benevolent to feature all eight matches of both days on national television. The most obvious shortcoming was that commentary was provided by local commentators, so it took a bit off the initial excitement I had. The first night was a drab, insipid affair. The one match that I was adamant I would not watch -Real Madrid vs Bayern Munich- had the most goals. I switched back and forth between the Arsenal-PSV and Man Utd-Lille matches instead. Both were absolute stinkers. Whatever sport it is that they were pretending to play, it wasn't football. Incidents of note include Cristiano Ronaldo exhibiting his cry-baby antics and Lille's near walk-out. In their red kit, you could almost mistake them for the Thai national team. Man of the match: Ross Yusof. He makes for a decent commentator with his crisp English and humorous quotes. The second night was a much better affair. No points for guessing which match I watched. Both teams didn't play their best football but it was absolutely shocking how Deco scored the first goal. That Arbeloar chap looked like a overweight gymnast trying to clear that cross. Horrible coverage on that goal. I was absolutely disgusted by how Liverpool played in the first half. They didn't look like a team with a game plan. They weren't defending nor were they attacking. But the equalizing goal was a decent one. Judging from their performance that night, it's pretty obvious the only Barcelona defender capable of defending is Puyol. The second half performance was much better from Liverpool. They actually attacked with some passion. Gerrard who didn't have the best of games with a brilliant cross in the lead-up to the winning goal. Kuyt should've scored 2 goals that night but ended up with none. Reina was solid between the sticks except during set pieces when he would flap around his post like a duck on Valium. Man of the match: Jamie Carragher. He lost out a few times to Saviola but he showed determination and coordinated the backline well. Agger flopped at times and still has a lot to learn from Carragher.

5. Wine, Women and Song

As with most festive seasons, we the Chinese pride ourselves in our drinking prowess. Across the globe, Chinese on a frequent basis, drink themselves under the table, puke in their wives laps and continue drinking some more. Really wasteful stuff with little to no respect for the alcohol they consume. I have modest ambitions when it comes to alcohol consumption. I'm usually quite lucky if I can down 2 cans of beer without passing out. Alas, I have what appears to be a psuedo-allergy for alcohol. I turn red incredibly quick and I develop a non-itchy version of hives. So my motto this time was: Consume everything in moderation. My boozing was limited to just one can of beer a night, which was enough to induce a deep slumber. On the night we consumed wine, I drank little more than half a glassful. Pathetic amounts for a male but while my heart urges me on, genetics stops me dead in my tracks. My brother on the other hand, seems to become increasingly sober the more alcohol he consumes. Life's great mysteries. The women were limited to a small band of my mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my cousin and those irritating Taiwanese performers on the telly. There was some singing, but mostly on my part. In a rare of case of alcohol and oxygen induced drunkardness, I kept singing, "I'm drunk, so damn drunk" to an unknown tune while falling asleep. I don't know if it was the beer that did that or if I just wanted to sing. It's hard to tell when I usually appear drunk to the casual observer, beer or not.

So that was how my Chinese New Year was. Nothing to shout about really. But I enjoy the simple things in life. Good times...

Pick of the Week : 3 Hundred

2007-01-31T00:20:00.000-08:00

How ironic it is that my third Pick of the Week coincides with the title of a show I'm about to recommend. First, allow me to apologize to my 1,2 maybe 3 readers for the late update. I've been meaning to blog, honestly. But I get so lazy sometimes. It's not that I have nothing to say. Gosh, there's a lot of things that I could talk about. But for today, I'll keep it simple, fresh and light-hearted.

I had the severe misfortune of watching Pathfinder that day. Horrid movie, that. I can't seem to fathom why anyone would enjoy watching a half-naked Caucasian run around rough terrain and icy mountain passes. Smacks of Tarzan except that this one speaks Nordish and Indian American. Talk about a pre-historic linguist. Another thing I really hated about the show is the fact that his nipples were erect throughout the whole show. And it's not like the director tried to make it subtle only to be obvious to the most observant of film goers. The damn camera keeps panning to his chest. Can't blame the chap, it's cold. Mother Nature gave him sensitive tits. They're bound to get hard with all the running he was doing in the snow and frozen lakes. Seriously, the silver screen community has never male nipples these erect since George Clooney's rubber nipples in Batman & Robin.

Luckily, every cloud has its silver lining. In this case, this gigantic pseudo-homosexual-anatomically-correct cloud had 2 silver linings. The first being, Moon Bloodgood, mega hot daughter of the tribe chief. I have an alternative theory to why Karl Urban's nipples were constantly erect and it has to do with the way this lady looks. Gentlemen, brace yourselves.
Tis' the sound of the angels singing that thou' hearest. And divine is the face that thy eye gaze upon so longingly. They say a picture says a thousand words. I believe this one says a whole lot more. I regret not the money I spent on Pathfinder.

The second silver lining would be 300. It got me even more excited than Ms. Bloodgood, so that's saying something. Basically, 300 is a new movie by Warner Bros. that's going to be released on the 9th of March. The official site has this to say about the film:

Based on the epic graphic novel by Frank Miller, 300 is a ferocious retelling of the ancient Battle of Thermopylae in which King Leonidas and 300 Spartans fought to the death against Xerxes and his massive Persian army. Facing insurmountable odds, their valor and sacrifice inspire all of Greece to unite against their Persian enemy, drawing a line in the sand for democracy. The film brings Miller’s (Sin City) acclaimed graphic novel to life by combining live action with virtual backgrounds that capture his distinct vision of this ancient historic tale.

Now I did my reseach, as all judicious bloggers do, and based on some very reliable sources, it has come to my knowledge that the Battle of Thermopylae did indeed occur, so rest assured, you can bring along your kid brother cause this show is historically 'accurate'. Let me give you a basic run-down of my personal 300 experience. There I was sitting in the cinema bored to death by the other trailers and beer ads when the trailer for 300 came on. And I was stunned, absolutely stunned. It is not often that I am taken by surprise when it comes to movies. But when the trailer came on, I actually chuckled aloud in the cinema. That's right, I chuckled; aloud! It was a transcendent moment, almost spiritual. To quote a not-so-bright girl, it was like watching monkeys use tools for the first time.

The premise is simple. 300 Spartans against an army of Persians and their cronies. Age-old story of the underdogs coming up against insurmountable odds. The cinematography however, is anything but common. At this juncture, I interrupt my audio explanations to provide you with visual illustrations of my points.

The man on the left is Leonidas, the hero of the story. And the lady on top is his missus' I believe. She'd give Ms. Bloodgood a run for her money.

As you can see, the pictures are pretty impressive. What's even more impressive are the trailers and sneak preview, all of which can be found here. This show is not for the faint of heart. It's violent, it's bloody, it's messy and it's loud. Basically, it's an alpha-male strung up on a testosterone high. This is God of War meets Gladiator meets The Matrix meets Fearless. If none of the above fancies you, don't bother buying the cinema ticket. Save the money and go watch The Bold and The Beautiful. It's out on DVD. But if you really yearn for a mind-numbing, cathartic, almost reckless display of action, this should be one of the best movies of the year. The screen is almost always in a hue of amber-grey-sepia. It gives the show a slightly depressing feel. I love it! It's based on Frank Miller's comic book and they've tried to imitate the scenes on his drawings as best as they could so expect some pretty cool CGI and slick camera angles. A lot of movies have been let downs after initial hypes but I have a feeling this one is going to meet a lot of expectations and then some. This is going to be director, Zack Snyder's second movie but he could well be on his way to being a top action movie director. Also, he's slated to direct a film version of Rainbow Six. HOO-AAH!

Just as a side note, the music featured in the 300 trailers is 'Just Like You Imagined' by Nine Inch Nails. It's the 3rd song on my new playlist and it's an absolutely brilliant song.

No music review this time. I spent almost 4 hours on this post alone. See what I mean when I say I'm lazy to blog?

Picks of the Week: Two

2006-12-24T05:11:00.000-08:00

Tis' the season to be jolly. In the spirit of Christmas, allow me to present to you my special Christmas edition picks of the week:

1. Malaysian Newscasters
I have been television deprived for months on end and yet I never seem to miss watching Malaysian news. Actually, sometimes when I'm bored and alone, I sit on my hand till it goes numb and then... sit on the other hand till it goes numb too. The bored mind knows no boundaries. So if you ever feel the blood coagulating urge to sit on your hand when you're bored, don't. Turn on the telly instead and watch Malaysian news. The guys are more entertaining that Dave Chapelle or Ricky Gervais. So this unassuming and totally innocent looking bloke comes on at 12 during Bulletin Utama on TV3 and starts reading the news. Luckily, I was bored enough to endure his mindless droning till he got to foreign news. The bloke pronounced Yorkshire the same way it's written on the display. Now, in my lifetime I have endured a lot of 'Lost in Translation' moments- a certain secondary school History teacher comes to mind- but this guy actually pulled it off with a straight face. Maybe he's just dim. He went, 'York-SHIRE' as in Lord of the Rings-bloody-Shire. He's obviously got to watch more BBC. Heck, I'd be appalled if I lived in Yorkshire and heard his pronounce it that way. I'd be ashamed to live in 'York-SHIRE'. The geography of a Malaysian newscaster: 'York-SHIRE' is the place in the same country as 'Middles-borrow' and 'Glou-CHESTER'. If you want even better comedy, watch them when they give commentary on Spanish League football. These guys deserve Emmy-awards for their contributions to comedy.

2. Christmas Jingles
The spirit of ol St.Nick seems a little bit muted in my hometown of Ipoh. Of course, it's always been pretty muted. They even stowed away the turkey into some god-forsaken orifice of the mall. Of course, the good people at Kinta City still had the decency to employ a nice chap to walk around the mall as Santa giving away free candy. If you ask me what I think about the Santa-rina's walking about with him, I give them 2 thumbs down. They must have horrific looking women in the North Pole. Around Ipoh town, there's very little evidence to indicate that we even know it's Christmas. Although you could count the funny looking luminiscent balls in the roundabout near the hospital as Christmas ornaments. Just like purple ciku's grown in Mars. But as usual, the good people at Kinta City have done their part in upholding the magic of Christmas. I was in the Watson's of Kinta City not 5 days ago and I was pleasantly surprised to see some ornaments adorning the store interior and a few small plastic Christmas trees too in fact. Just then I became aware of Chinese New Year techno music blaring over the sound system. Now isn't that nice. Santa Claus now holds a Taiwanese passport and raps in Chinese. The red in his suit is for prosperity so he doesn't need to get a new suit. I was half expecting them to roll out some Sumazau dancers in the spirit of multi-culturism.

3. Made in Malaysia
No Christmas would be complete with presents of course. And what would be a more practical present that a good solid book. Pages of knowledge, broadening one's horizons and creating a more intellectual society. A not-so-careful look at the bookshelves of one of the greater bookstores of Ipoh would yield surprising results. This Christmas I felt like reading some non-fiction with a local flavour and no, I'm not talking Kapten Hassan Wira Bangsa sort of local flavour. One of the most important works to immerge from Malaysia by senior statesman Tun Mahathir Muhammad is The Malay Dilemma retailing for a cool RM 32.40. Another much lauded book recently released is The Chinese Dilemma by Ye Lin-Sheng. Neville Maxwell, Visiting Fellow at the Contemporary China Centre of Australian National University, Canberra called it an "important and convincing study points to the inherent good sense and high social benefit of what is often ignorantly disparaged-Malaysia's racially biased constitutional system. ...The Malaysian example, as demonstrated here, shows that, given rational and far-sighted governance, positive discrimination can lead to social harmony through shared prosperity." The book retails for Rm28. Another book, Quo Vadis, Malaysia? by Ramon V.Navaratnam, containing "perspectives on the core socio-economic issues underlying national unity" is priced at RM50. Interesting prices indeed. Especially when the same book store carries Hillary Clinton's Living History-Hillary Rodham Clinton for RM36.90 and Nelson Mandela's Long Walk to Freedom for RM 43.50. Surprising how books from our local intellects cost almost as much as those we import from overseas. Shouldn't our books be more price competitive to ensure that local interests in our country is constantly kindled through all forms of media? One thing is for sure though, I'm not buying myself any book as a Christmas present.

Merry Christmas to all and if you find yourself jiving to some tune celebrating fortune and prosperity in the year of the pig, do not fret for you are probably in Watson's buying some toiletries.

Picks of the Week: One

2006-12-03T21:19:00.000-08:00

This would be the first of many updates in my 'Picks of the Week' section. Basically, this is a review of the songs that are dominating my playlist for that particular week. Considering how eclectic my music taste is, look forward to a wide range of sounds, some you may like and some you will plain hate. I'm looking forward to updating this section every week so look out for it on Sunday evenings. The songs will be on my player for that week. So, this week's picks are as follows:

1. 'Just Stop' - Disturbed
About the band: Disturbed is a band from Chicago, Illinois. It was formed in 1996 when musicians Dan Donegan, Steve "Fuzz" Kmak, and Mike Wengren hired singer David Draiman in Chicago, Illinois. Disturbed was originally founded as a nu metal band, but are now sometimes regarded as hard rock or heavy metal.

About the song: 'Just Stop' is the 2nd single of the band's third full album. It reached the 24th place on the US Billboard Modern Rock chart and the 4th place in the US Billboard Mainstream Rock chart.

Comments: Although I've never been a big fan of heavy metal music, this track and a few other tracks from Disturbed have a strong catchy underlying melody and roaring vocals. Also, as with all good rock tracks, the chorus is almost anthemic sing-along stuff. However, this is not a true representation of all of Disturbed's works. Most of their songs have overt underlying messages of rebellion, anger with flashes of intolerance for organized religion. This may not go down well with some.

Links: http://www.disturbed1.com/ (Official website)

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/disturbed/juststop.html (Lyrics)

2. 'Seven Years' - Saosin

About the band: Saosin is a post-hardcore band from Newport Beach, California who originally formed during 2003 and partly consists of former members of the band Open Hand. Its current members are Cove Reber, Beau Burchell, Justin Shekoski, Chris Sorenson and Alex Rodriguez.

About the song: 'Seven Years' is the runaway hit single of the band's first EP Translating the Name. The vocals on this track were actually sung by the band's original vocalist Anthony Green. However, Green left the band and was replaced by current vocalist Cover Reber.

Comments: The first thing that hit me on my first listen of this track is that the drumwork is excellent. Although I am not a drummer nor do I have any fundamental knowledge of drumming, I think it is pretty apparent that the drumwork on this track is complex. Loud guitar riffs and Green's soaring vocals characterize this track. It's emo, it's punk, it's hardcore, it's rock and it's loud. Not for the faint of heart. Makes for good listening on those warm humid afternoons when the sun is blazing outside your bedroom window and the temperamental side of you is seething inside.

Links: http://www.saosin.com/ (Official Site)

http://www.lyricsdir.com/saosin-seven-years-lyrics.html (Lyrics)

3. 'Mind's Eye' - Wolfmother

About the band: Wolfmother is a ARIA Award winning Australian hard rock band from Erskineville, Sydney. The band consists of Andrew Stockdale (vocals/guitar), Chris Ross (bass/keyboards) and Myles Heskett (drums). Their music is inspired by bands such as The Jimi Hendrix Experience, AC/DC, The Who, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple.

About the song: 'Mind's Eye' is off the band's eponymous debut, Wolfmother.

Comments: This song is slow but doesn't descend into a dithering or callow musical experience. The synth portion that kicks into the song halfway through takes a bit of getting used to. Not one of my favourite tracks but it's passable. I don't think the band stretched their creativity much with this track.

Links: http://www.wolfmother.com/ (Official website)

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/wolfmother/mindseye.html (Lyrics)

4. 'Fully Alive' - Flyleaf

About the band: Flyleaf is an alternative metal band from Texas. The band and its members have previously played under several names including Listen, Sporos, The Grove, and Passerby. Its members are Lacey Mosley, Sameer Bhattacharya, Jared Hartmann, Pat Seals and James Culpepper.

About the song: 'Fully Alive' is the 2nd single off Flyleaf's LP Flyleaf. This track is currently on the US Billboard Modern Rock chart.

Comments: This band excites me. They're edgy, hard and fresh. And best of all, they have a female vocalist. Females rock. Females in rock bands rock big time. The album is packed with many hits and few misses. I picked this track because I detect more than just a tinge of Melissa Auf der Maur in Lacey Mosley's voice. They both have a steely determined growl and a velvety high range. And they both play bass too. The similarities are uncanny. Flyleaf assimilates positive messages with their hard-rocking music and if you look around their other songs, you get just enough of a whiff the Christian values that Mosley espouses. Good stuff!

Links: http://flyleafmusic.com/ (Official Website)

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/flyleaf/fullyalive.html (Lyrics)

That's it for this week. Most of the songs are pretty loud but I wouldn't call them abrasive. I've been feeling like a bit of rock & roll lately. Maybe next week I might feel a little bit more mellow and put up some of my ambience dance track. It all depends. For those of you who want me to write some solid pieces instead of putting up my crappy music, I think I will put up some posts in the next few days.

Curtain Raiser

2006-11-22T18:11:00.000-08:00

Different people often see the same picture through different perspectives. Welcome to my perspective.