deconstructing the soul

I was brought up in the 70s and ran through teen life in the 80s with many great movies and ideas. And what clicked most deep in me was about dystopian future. Growing up with Orwellian ideas left and right, dystopia forms large part of my imagination until now.

I love all of them dystopia fiction, even though some of the ideas are laughable at that time, especially about corporate media taking over human lives which was perfectly portrayed in Videodrome. It was a bit too radical to be true in the future. Or so I thought that time.

Flash forward to NOW. I’m seeing before my eyes the grotesque power of the media. Enslaving almost everyone, doing it’s master’s bidding without them knowing it. Media has warped the minds up to a level where a mere video on youtube has become the de facto source for Truth. *MTV has change the youth so drastically that speeches and body languages (along with musical taste) were changed hideously.
* MTV - a general title I use to describe a collective of entertainment-oriented culture altering media.

If I were to highlight these arguments with youth of today, I’d be laughed at. Just like me in my teen years, I’d laugh at the idea of Videodrome and it’s media-controlling plot – simply because the director and storyteller told it in quite a fantastical ways, much like watching Star Wars. But I realised Media is a much more powerful beast. Full of cunning and guile. Deceiving with the face of Truth. Until we’d feel stupid not to believe in the Media.

Now, Video really has killed the Radio star. And we have become the Sheeple.

Yeah now I can manipulate gazillion of polygons :))
>> NVIDIA Quadro FX4600

They Are Coming!

:: info ::
1600 x 960
3ds Max 2009 | Mentalray | Photoshop CS3

Today I got the opportunity to make full use of my GPS system. Need to go to Kelana Business Centre. I’ve only been there once and that was quite a long time ago so I’m kinda fuzzy on how to get there.

‘Drive 100 meter and turn left’
Nifty tool for a road-blind fool. That’s me.

Everything seem fine until there was a smaller, confusing split-roads.
‘Turn left. Turn left …… Turn left’

‘Recalculating…’

After a few of these ‘Recalculating…’ episodes, I swear I can hear a bit of accusation in the GPS’s voice! Like I’ve put it into extra work with my incompetency. And when the next alternative road was calculated ‘Drive 1 kilometer and stay left’ I swear I heard the word ‘kilometer’ as ‘oh come on!’.

Oh I’ve tried to please her then. So when the next accusing ‘Recalculating…’ got issued I was halfway through saying ‘Ohh sorry Luna!’.

BTW I called her Luna.

Luna eventually got me to the destination and back safely. I’m just not sure whether she’d consider uninstalling herself off my phone o_O

Just came back from watching Avatar. I don’t have high expectation from it. But man I was blown away by it. Here’s my Top 5 reasons to watch Avatar, again:

- It’s a James Cameron movie. A big big budget one. The biggest to date I think.

- Big bipedal mecha. With a jagged bayonet on a big canon gun. Warhammer 40K-esque. Versus blue-skinned tribal alien which is bigger than the human but primitive.

- Fantastic world of glowing forests, floating mountains, and symbiotic lifeforms. A place I wouldn’t mind living in or dying for.

- The women in this movie: Sigourney Weaver, Michelle Rodriguez, and most importantly Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) which almost single-handedly would pull you into Pandora and it’s people the Na’vi.

- And finally, seeing boobs & cute butts on the big screen without feeling perverse or in any way shameful. Definitely not a cheap flesh trick. It was elegantly sexy,natural, and honest in many ways. The Na’vi women I mean.

PS: I’m booking for a second viewing this weekend. I don’t usually watch the same movie twice in the same week. This is one very GOOD movie though. Avatar made it up for atleast 5 years of dull sci-fi/fantasy movie from Hollywood. I’m satisfied *bliss*.

An “Excuse me”.
A slight shoulder bump.
A “Sorry”.
Two faces turning, eyes meet eyes.

A smiling “It’s ok”.
An awkward passing by.
A wanting of proximity.
Stealing glances, the blurring of other faces.

Just under 10 minutes. That’s all it takes.

For two people to connect.
For the sweet smile to stay in memory.
For one of them to start a mission.
To continue that brief connection.

Just under that memorable 10 minutes.

:: GSC Pavilion. 10pm, Nov 28, 2009 ::

Hari ini aku terima sepucuk surat
Merah jambu disemburi harum wangi
Tertera tulisan lembut bersimpul seri
Tersulam kata-kata mimpi, janji, dan isi hati.

Ia berakhir dengan tanda lipstick merah menyala
Di kucup penuh makna. Tanpa nama.

Dan aku cuma berkata "Ia mungkin tersalah alamat"
Kerana tiada mimpi, janji, atau hati di rumah ini.

Too many noises in this place
Of broken songs and haunting desire
Of seductive voices and meaningless chatter

Too many phantasm in this place
Of torn pictures and lucid scene
Of alluring thoughts and deceitful dreams

I’m getting cluttered
I’m getting scattered
I’m getting divided

I need to get away from this place
Far far away, if I may
From this memory

Last few weekends I went to Lotus Ampang for a meet-up about work. As usual the place’s full of kodok-watching potentials. Then came striding in an actor and his friend/GF/fellow female artist. I don’t know their names but I know they’re quite popular in TV drama. Even my japanese friend Shinobu knows about this actor. She’s a bit weird though for liking Malay drama so much. Anyways…

What strike me most is that this two celebrities are way better looking in real-life than on TV. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? As usually the case with Hollywood stars that look really awesome on screen, but fugly in real-life? This is not a one-off observation. Most ‘celebrity’ that I’ve met outside the tube are wayyy better-looking/prettier. It puzzled me, really.

I came to a conclusion that either our TV production are generally bad, bad make-up artist, or perhaps both. Or maybe, just MAYBE they all wears susuk. And maybe the *susuk’s charm got nullified going through the tube…?

Talking about susuk, now that is one powerful thing. Imagine if one of the make-up company made it commercial: Summer Susuk Foundation by M.A.C. Disclaimer: Side effects of spiritual disturbance or hauntings are known to affects the user. M.A.C hold no accountability if such things occurred. Please consult a *Bomoh or equivalent witch-doctor.

Let’s not limit our imagination to just make-ups. Imagine Triumph, Audrey, and other in-supermarket under-garment brand could do with. Say, Wonder-Bra or Wonder-Panties - Susuk Enhanced. Instant Scarlett Johansson or Beyonce (respectively). Or even Jessica Biel (overall yummilious 4 thumbs up). That is, if you buy a complete set of Susuk Enhanced products. Discounted ofcourse. It’s women’s stuff after all. 5% OFF. Serious bargain, right girls?

What do you think? Is it a good idea or is it a GOOD idea??

* susuk is a magical charm, usually gold needle or diamond being magically embedded in the face to give the wearer beauty, glamour, and charm.

* bomoh is a Malay traditionall witch-doctor. Scary bunch most of the time. Smelly too. But don’t mess with them.

A new hope. A cure. It could be anything. A new job. New circle of friends. A replacement of your wrecked car. Quitting smoking. Newfound passion or hobby. Meeting someone special or falling in love again. It could be anything really.

It is a chance. A vaccine. A new lease of life that brings us out of our mired situations. Into something more meaningful to look forward to every day we wakes up. It doesn’t have to be for the better, just for something different. To get out of current stagnation that slowly kills us inside.

New hope can be big or small but nonetheless important. Getting a new hobby could be life-saving to some but a laughable pastime to others. It also involves risks too. Risk of expectation. Of things new and shiny. Risk of wasting time with. But all those risks are better than stagnation isn’t it?

A new hope. For a start, let’s just hope for a new hope. If you can find it, grab it. Things like these only come once in a while. Try not to let go. But ofcourse, we can only hope it came by and wanted to stay. When it doesn’t, when it slipped away from our hands, we’ll feel much worst than before. Feeling jaded. Rejected. Forlorn. Scattered and divided.

Let’s just hope we have energy left for another try. Or you’re really in a deeper shit than before. HA HA.

I found Innocence & Purity
Wrapped in her soft frail body
I found Passion & Empathy
Embodied in her tender soul

I found Wit & Insight
Embedded in her lucent mind
I found Faithfulness & Truth
Shining in the wake of her light

I found Dreams & Desire
Radiated from her sweetly scented skin
I found Laughter & Joy
Without pretense, without feign

But she said no to me

For my feet are mired
My hands are grimed
Wandering and wounded
Severed and divided

Hope I’ll cross her path again
When I’m free of my sins

Recently I’ve been exposed with too many Hindi movies and TV series. It’s my mom’s doing – I gotta explain the story to her :|

Anyways, I’ve learn a few things while in that tortured position:
1. Malay & Hindi language share similar words like almari (Closet. yup it’s their word), mungkin (maybe), musibah (catastrophe), to name a few beside the well-known syabas (congrats), maut (death) …and hospital (err…).

2. To signify sunrise, they use loud sound fx of morning birds. Many many birds. Very very loud. Wondered if they woke up and yell “Yeaaayy happyyy” (sic: about firecrackers and Deepavali)

3. In Hindustani drama Food is a very important aspect to in-laws (whole bunch of them). Preparation, cooking, serving, how it taste like, etc took 3 episodes in which the new daughter-in-law showed blissful happiness when everything went well. Almost orgasmic. Really.

Talk about food, recently I had a conversation using food as analogy to relationship. About either you’re the type of person who likes drive-through or a complete meal from appetizer to dessert. I believed in the latter but what’s more important to me is not how you do it, but who you do it with and the occasion, small or big. You could still feel lonely having 12-course ballroom dinner surrounded by hundreds of people. In the other hand, a drive-through could be a great experience if you’re with somebody special.

Atleast IMO, that is better than to eat alone isn’t it?

Hujan dah mula turun sekarang. Bagus lah.
Boleh tenggelam bising kehidupan luar sana.

Hujan tengah turun lebat sekarang. Bagus lah.
Boleh aku lemaskan diri dalam kekelabuan.

Hujan dah nak berhenti sekarang. Ahh tak bagus.
Tak cukup tebal untuk menyepi diri

Hujan dah merintik perlahan. Sangat tak bagus.
Tak cukup reda emosi kelam ini

Hujan dah berhenti. Tsk kenapa berhenti?
Terpaksa aku kembali pada bising dan bahang luar sana.

Dan guruh selepas tamat hujan seperti mengejek.
"HAHA nak singkir diri pun kau tak terdaya”

Nak duduk melunjur tak ada kerusi
Nak sandang kepala tak ada bantal
Nak melabuh badan tak ada tilam

Nak melangkah tak ada tenaga
Nak bertutur kata tak ada suara
Nak kongsi rasa tak ada teman

Nak jenguk bintang malam masih kelam
Nak susun fantasi disergah realiti
Nak janji gembira diri sendiri pun tak percaya

Cuma ada lantai keras untuk menghempas diri.

“Last call at the bar!”

Happy Hour is nearing it’s end. Just enough for one last round of merriment to drown the languor away. Any more round called-for before the return of listlessness that stifle dreams. Before reality came crushing back intruding it’s ugly head into fluffy placid fantasies.

The hours ahead seem to be quite bleak. Indifference. Solitary.

“Last call at the bar?”

• don’t go to shopping mall on 2nd day Raya and expect like it’s like normal day.

• fantasy & dreams are just that: fantasy & dreams – can go ‘poof’ any moment.

• some things are best kept to oneself. Even to the closest person.

• honest expressive opinion are sometimes misinterpreted. Badly.

• no matter how extraordinary some people may be, they are still ordinary, somehow.

• pessimism is a useful, powerful tool that I’ve forgotten to ‘misuse’.

• ghosts of past lives die hard. it can still haunts us even if we think it was buried deep.

• in three years time (two plus to be exact) the number 40 is going to be a very scary number.


So, in a nutshell I learned this: don’t expect too much of anything in life.

Tiada masa untuk ditunggu
Tiada hala untuk dituju
Tiada hiba untuk dirasa
Tiada takhta untuk kita

Tiada daya untuk diseru
Tiada janji untuk ditepati
Tiada tiang untuk disandang
Tiada tongkat sakti untuk kita

Tiada kata untuk bicara
Tiada lagu untuk dinyanyi
Tiada puisi untuk memuji
Tiada apa-apa lagi untuk kita

Sudah merempat tak bertempat
Sudah sempit dan terkepit
Sudah penat berlumba dan berlari
Sudahlah, kita berhenti saja disini.

Tamat.

Si Pengemis Muda,
Merayau ke sana-sini. Berkaki ayam melangkah lemah. Pada terang siang dia terus menggeledah. Mencari barang tinggal oleh orang-orang cuai.

Dia mencari hati-hati yang tercicir.

Yang dah retak, terhantuk.
Yang dah berserpih, terkikis.
Yang dah kaku, keras.
Yang dah tak berdegup, tak berlagu.

Si Pengemis Muda,
Seperti malam-malam biasa. Menghibur mimpi, menabur hasrat “Mana lah tahu…dalam banyak hati yang terkutip, mungkin terjumpa semula” dia berhajat.

Dia mencari hati yang pernah dia buang.

Yang ada terpahat nama seorang
Yang mungkin boleh menyala terang
Yang dulunya ada bahang membara
Yang mungkin ada lagi sedikit haba

Si Pengemis Muda,
Seperti semalam, seperti kelmarin, dan seperti hari-hari kusam sebelum ini, dia masih mencari tanpa henti. Walau sudah lelah, dia tak boleh mengalah.

Untuk mencari ganti hatinya sendiri yang sudah mati.


*a tribute to Sheila Majid’s “Pengemis Muda”

9.00 pm, middle of Ramadhan, somewhere in Kuala Lumpur city centre.

A malay guy with a bottle of beer came wandering around with a bit of a drunkard gait. He has this smug, who-dares-me look on his mixed parental face - a typical KL city boy, well-built with attitude thinking his liberal philosophies are well above the average Joe on the street of Kuala Lumpur.

Smug and challenging. Outspoken and modern. Liberal.

On recognizing a familiar face, he came near my table, resting his hand on the back of the chair opposite me. Languidly he spoken “Hey man, been a long time. Can I share your table mate?” And that smug smile still on his face.

“Sorry, nope.” A bit miffed, I continue reading my book.

“Oh come on! Wait, you don’t want to be associated with a beer-drinking guy in Ramadhan eh?” A bit more of that smugness with a laugh.

Looking up from my book, “Not really, I just don’t like potential drunkards. And please respect others.” looking at the beer bottle and a forced smile to hide my annoyance.

“Oh you’re so righteous aren’t you?” now leaning closer to me, expelling beer-breath onto my face. 

He continued “Look, I’m a man that stand for my rights and only answers to myself because I’m a Free, Liberal man. I don’t restrain myself because some hardcore fundamentalist put down laws. Also I’m not going to let myself be like one of the cows tucked at the nose to follow without questioning, without thinking.” 

A bit more excited on having a chance to deliver his thoughts he continued “Stand for your rights! Be a MAN! Are you content being just a cow?”

I put down the book and look up his stinky face “First of all, I’m not your friend. Secondly, I don’t give a fuck about your liberal P.O.V. And third, I’m capable of standing for my rights, or the rights of people close to me.”

More than a little pissed I continued “Right now I’m defending my rights to be alone and usually I don’t just stand and babble out bad breath. I usually use my fists for defending my rights. Are you up to that?”

The potential punching bag started to open his mouth in retaliation but I don’t give him a chance “You talk big about being liberal and standing for your rights. Can you even defend it if I were to test you with a few punches and kicks?” and pushed my chair a bit out of the table as if ready to get up and prove to him there and then. “It has been a while since I last bash people up” flexing my fists and neck.

Backing a step away, as if being slapped, he was very alert now with a little trembling.

“Yeah, I guess not. Shoo boy, and learn some self-defence first before you go out strutting your Liberal Man attitude and REALLY stand for your rights. You just proved you’re not THAT free.” And I further aggravated him with a mimic of his own words “Be a MAN!! Poser” and laugh it off.

Visibly reddened from my challenge and taunt he stormed off while uttering a loud “Fuck you!”

Yeah sure, go home and cry liberal boy. I had a good laugh by the way.

What’s the differences between Malaysian and Indonesian movie?
1) In Malaysian movie, emotion portrayal are definitely acted on.

2) Malaysian comedy movie requires the actor/actresses to laugh out loud so that viewers know there are jokes involved.

3) In Malaysian movie, “Movie of the year” means it was made this year. That’s it.

4) Indonesian movie have funny names for their characters but quite serious about it. Malaysian movie just have ‘funny’ characters. In a serious movie.

5) Indonesian Romance movie means all the finer points about Love. In Malaysian movie it means Yusof Haslam.


Disclaimer: yet again, loosen up will ya!