it's about a day until the new chinese new year kicks in...and it just goes to show you that some people still can be superstitious in times like these. some people can be superstitious even out of respect for superstitions. alright, take into example, the fact that you're not meant to do any cleaning or sweeping during the first few days of chinese new year because that means that you might be sweeping away good luck and fortune for the coming year...and the whole thing about not wearing black to any places that you visit because if you wear black, that basically means you're the harbinger of strife, death and destruction to whoever you visit. i guess that it's all about keeping to the values and the customs of the chinese. old wives' tales are the best, i figure...there was this thing i heard once [possibly from my stout catholic mother] about how it'd rain whenever crows would be flying overhead and in packs. ridiculous? maybe. but it's a belief that's been passed down from generation to generation, and in my hands, if i do get children, i'd probably tell it to my kids because it'd be a fun thing to say [and they'd be all wide-eyed and awed] and because it was an utterly ridiculous piece of news that was passed down to me lovingly. so, why not? everyone needs something to believe in once in a while.

the other day, my grandfather came downstairs [something that he very rarely, rarely does] and asked around if anyone had seen a black cat. correction: he was yelling to us if we'd seen a black cat. in his words, "it's a matter of life and death...a black cat brings out bad luck!" i never knew him as a superstitious bloke, but, oh, well.

chinese new year brings to mind firecrackers, red packets full of money, mandarin oranges, more mandarin oranges, prawn crackers, and...well, stuff. i guess that it's already been pigeon-holed. and here i am, sitting at my computer, typing all this out after having a so-called family dinner. boredom reeks once again. and i have to study. bitch.

saturday night was oddly refreshing. i went for a play at the actor's studio bangsae..."stories for amah"...basically it tells the story of a eurasian girl who's telling her life story [so far] to her dead grandmother. the narrative is told in quasi-flashbacks, and it's rather cool. i think it ended its run last night, though i think that it'd probably come back due to popular demand one day. it was my first time in a play for a while...i can't honestly remember for the life of me when the last time i went into a play was. erm. unless the wizard of oz counts, but i don't think it does. performances were okay. i'm not going to write a damning crtique about something i have no experience in whatsoever, though the general consensus was that the second act was a little draggy, with most of the limelight going to ruth, our protagonist. the first act was good due to the involvement of the other characters...ruth's parents, her uncle zak and his family, her mother's sister...the second act's quasi-monologue [for better use of the word quasi since i don't know anything else that comes close to it] was a bit tedious...but still good. mmph. i might do this more. like i've said, dropping proletariat values for bourgeoise values might be a good thing to let me advance through life...though not yet.

aren't all youths part of proletariat culture by default? i mean, look at it...we aim to be better than our actual state, we desire more things, we want to be trendy, young, suburban yuppies with a 3 series in the garage and a high paying job, as well as an apartment that rivals in style and comfort to chandler and monica's...the fact that there's an obvious border between where we are and where we're going to already throws it in our face that by not doing anything, we can never be where we want to be. it's not possible to become bourgeiose instantaneously...it's more of an acqiured taste. and despite what my father does, i doubt that i'd ever really have that bourgeiose bug in me. after watching the play, i was wondering about why we're conditioned to do the things that we do. is etiquette really that important? social acceptance is such a pain, really. then again, it's like asking why i went to the play in the first place [though i can say that it was just for hannah, but that'd be wrong, really]. well...i went to the play because (a) i had nothing better to do; (b) i haven't been to one in ages and (c) i wanted to feel the bourgeois-ness. and i think i did, really, mingling with all those arty-farty types during the intermission, mingling with these suburban upper crust folk, sipping on their red wine and chatting about nothing in particular, clutching to their programme guides like it was the most valuable thing on earth...i wanted to be one of, nay, i wanted to BE them.

mmmph. who knows.

yesterday was spent at bangsar. i was with patrick [who's bourgeois but not enough] and justin [ditto] at devi's corner [bourgeois proletariat place...a contradiction of sorts]. patrick was flipping through the photos i had of brazil, and i guess that he was suitably impressed, how this guy who lives in a run-down house and who drives the crappiest car to walk the earth [exaggeration...i love my car ] can live semi-extravagantly and have the chance to drive one of the finest cars that have ever walked the earth. overseas, i'm the total opposite of what i am here; over there, i'm well-built, elegant, eloquent, arrogant, classy and possibly even suave. over here?...bum, bum, bum, bum, though i'm working on that first part. i guess that you can't have everything anymore.

and talking about the whole bourgeoise thing...i was buying groceries at tmc [proletariat accidentally viewed as bourgeois - their advantage], and i found out that bovril is expensive. i always thought it was cheaper way back when, but...RM 13 and RM 21 for a small and large bottle respectively doesn't really sound appealing...but due to my craving for it, i bought the smaller one. bad choice. three teaspoons' worth of it has almost cut it down by half. no luck. i also bought large chachos and 2 sacks of maggi. typical sunday.

we always talk about rebelling and leaving behind our wants and desires and possibly attaining a close approximation of nirvana tha we can get, but when you see brad pitt giving jennifer aniston a diamond ring [or was it a set of them?] worth more than value itself, you have to differentiate between tyler durden and brad pitt. [for the uninitiated, tyler durden was a man hell-bent on anarchy and making the world a better place by wiping out consumerism and class imagery]. i guess that it's the idea of rebelling that appeals to us all...but i mean, rebelling against the upper class sort while decked in kanga berets and nike feet doesn't exactly bring about the right impression, does it? it's the idea of rebellion...rebellion is part of the pop, as opposed to being distanced from it. why do we rebel? because we want things our own way, more or less...it's right to be selfish as long as you believe in what it is you want, i say. after all, to be bourgeois is great and all...but wouldn't it be better if you could pull everyone else down to your level?

i threw a brick through a window.

infomercials. the best form of creative advertising out there today. you always approach it with initial skepticism, but in the end, you walk out a changed person. burned out celebrity endorsements, great user testimonies and a handful of other factors [such as images shown of guys and their abs] adorn these 2 minute clips [unless we're going for the whole half hour quantum showcase extravaganza] and teach us how to lose flab around our tummy and love handle areas can be done by simple applying a magic gel [after drinking a glass of water, no less] to our desired areas of reduction...it's all great and everything, i suppose. mmm. and don't forget how we can tone and build our muscles from a sliding/skating action device that also doubles as a ab trainer by allowing us to stretch as well. and that was promoted by the former olympic skating champion and the obligatory austrian bodybuilding champion who sounded exactly like a particular mr. schwarzenegger, which has led me to believe that they grow them all the same in austria. home of johann strauss, yes, i can imagine...but that accent. ugh. i can never be anything like what i see on tv [though i came close once, a long time ago, being the fat, cute, rotund chinese kid you see in all those chinese dramas who gets called "fei chai"], so i can safely say that i'd be convinced of the capabilites of infomercials into telling me that i'm even worse off than i originally imagined. but then again, i can jog for a kilometre, fun around a football field faster than any of the skinnier guys, and i'm convinced that my stamina has increased by twofold...no small feat considering the fact that i'm not supposed to have stamina. in short, i don't really believe in infomercials because they generally make us feel bad about ourselves. they strike a chord [and possibly a nerve] within you to go out and change your appearance...to get that hair revitalizer...i mean, dammit...i remember that dieting product which you had to drink to lose weight...the testimonies were the fakes ["i'm sooooooo happy with what _______ has done for me"], and...i mean...c'mon...even the fine print in the ad stated that it wouldn't work without a proper diet and exercise.

mary.

it's insulting to our intelligence...it's even more insulting that the chinese housewives or whoever who actually view these ads are convinced that they can benefit from them. if a 57 year old housewife decides to lose weight to grab the attention of her husband who can't even perform without a handful of viagra pills...well...i guess you can admire her for initializing the attempt to get the zing back into the marriage, but let's be realistic here: there's only one way to lose weight...and that's through sweating. now, what you do to sweat isn't my concern...as it should be anyone else's. hair loss? well...shave your head. looks better, it's a statement of intention, and apparently, bald men gain favour now. now, ads with motor oil and lubricant [tee-hee-hee], i can't argue about, since i don't have the slightest idea about engines and cars, and it all looks like it's got nothing to do with people or their bodies [except for their wallets] so i guess that there's nothing wrong there...for now. remember didi seven? i think my dad bought it once and found out that it didn't do jack. there's one purchase no one should ever make...or repeat. mmm. i'm pretty sure that there're other solutions to our own self-image problems. go to a gym. jog a bit. eat less [not working for me, though]. it's a world full of possibilites, dammit...even if you are butt-ugly, overweight and saggy, as sick as it sounds, there's someone waiting for you out there...don't change yourself because you want acceptance...it pretty much ends in "look at the weight she's lost!...anorexic!". not good. bad vibes. fat and jolly as opposed to thin and miserable. unless you're already thin and miserable, that's when you need to eat more [you lucky sods, you]...so don't be scared of how you look. are you attractive to someone else's eyes? that's up to the someone else, in'it? remember...apple of the eye doesn't necessary mean you can't be pear-shaped. can we all change?

damned if i do, damned if i don't.

right now it's 3:46 on a sunday morning. what'm i doing awake? i'm not quite sure. so far, i haven't showered [shhhhh...], but i still feel arguably fresh. this might be another 36 hour day for me, but i don't think so...i'm getting a bit laggy, and i guess that's an indicator to partake in some much needed slumber. i've spent the better part of the last 3 hours or so watching vcds...i don't really advocate piracy, but i can see why it's useful. i caught most of "narc" starring jason patric and ray liotta as well as "ballistic: ecks vs. sever". "narc" was good...it was gritty, it was real and it kept you guessing. not to give too much of a good thing away, but it basically focuses on the mystery surrounding the death of an undercover narcotics officer and how a former narc officer is sent in to help in the investigation. the former narc [patric] accidentally shot an innocent under the influence of *something*, thus losing his job or something to that extent. y'know...cop dramas. "ecks vs. sever" wasn't as bad as i thought that it'd be...just that when you have a thai director who goes by the name of "kaos", you know that you shouldn't really be putting your hopes up. it was filmed on location in vancouver...and most of vancouver is wrecked as a result. lots of big explosions, some slow-mo shots, lots of bullets and guns. ecks basically is assigned to track sever. something like that. sever has kidnapped the son of this intelligence bigshot, and...erm...well, let's just say that everyone lives [abruptly] happily ever after. a night well spent?...i don't really know what to say to that.

right now i'm listening to the calling's camino palmero album. it sounds like...well...an american version of mat rock music. though some say that mat rock music reminds them of...erm...classic american rock-ballady-mid western stuff that never aged. never mind, it's just ballady rock. hannah may love alex band's voice, but c'mon...nothing beats bono. or julian casablancas. even howlin' pete. then again, i'm just jealous. top 20 airplay, yada yada yada...rock star. hmph. thanks to may ann for ripping the album...along with the "i am sam" soundtrack [that was a good movie...somewhat], and the hoobastank album which i haven't gotten the chance to sample yet. i'm a long way off from becoming a full-fledged film critic...but i only watch them, dammit. no interest in reviewing. just that it's 4 in the morning and i've got nothing to do.

okay...i love acoustic guitars, but only to a good measure. okay. and i'm starting to get sick of alex band's voice. maybe i should change the cd...no? no.

i wish that i had more of a life to make things wrong.

buyer behavior classes have been all about talking about marriage and relationships and commitments. i don't know; i always viewed married life as something that was fun and frivilous and full of mirth...you know, a young couple who're busy making some food for the first time and getting stains all over themselves but laughing their asses off. or a 2 year old child playing patty-cake with her mom...or a dad teaching a son how to ride a bike or throwing a ball around. well...in reality, it probably could be like that, given a lot of overtime and hard work. but...i mean...imagine if you're married...your wife's working, you're working, your kid's in the house, probably being taken care of by the mother, mother-in-law or maid [heaven forbid]. where's the time for all that fun going to be? how're we gonna even have time for ourselves? arghhhhh...life's unfair. and it moves too fast. i love kids...i really do. nothing like little fooz and patty feet all around...not.

the cost of having children is...the cost of a good bungalow.

i could buy my own s2000 with education fees.

and my wife will grow fat.

point/counter-point? maybe it'd come later. i do want children...but getting there, to that stage when i can sit back, pat myself on the back and relax...it seems a lot harder to get to these days.

mmm. i saw the two towers again last night with keong...it was rather worth it a second time round. not bad...so far, RM 20 spent on the movie...barring the special edition extended vcd [dvds are for the uppity] which would set me back an additional RM 35 [the fellowship extended vcd is worth every penny]. as in most trilogy settings, the second movie always seems to be the best. remember the empire strikes back? or the godfather part ii? this movie has dramatic tension, humour [provided superbly by an in-form john rhys-davies], loads more action than the fellowship...it's got pretty much more than the original...and that's saying a lot. now, i'm basically still on the fellowship in terms of book reading...in fact, i may just cut myself off from reading the book completely, since it seems to be an arduous task that even the most patient person could never undertake...then again, thinking about the number of people i know who've read it, maybe i've got a point to prove. mmm. i don't want to get left behind. anyway, i'm pretty sure that most of you have seen the movie. quite good, really. frodo is getting closer to being fully seduced to the darkside. aragorn might be a lothario of epic proportions [princess of rivendell, possible heiress of rohan]. gandalf becomes a whitelighter. gimli's still short...and loving it. and there's that forward flip that legolas does onto the horse...it's rather a priceless two second's worth of footage. on the downside, liv tyler only appears for a few short, short scenes...

mmm...speaking of elves, it seems that the person who speaks elvish the best [or at least uses it in a conversational tone] is probably viggo mortensen...orlando bloom, hugo weaving and liv...sorry...they just seem so stiff. it's probably because it's coz they want the diction to be clear...or that they're elves and they really do speak that way [which may rather well be the case]...but viggo does it naturally and admirably. dammit. who's the coolest member of the fellowship? my bet's on aragorn...i thought it was legolas coz he can do so much [forward flip notwithstanding, he's also probably a thinking man's sniper, and his elf-ears and elf-eyes are a package to be reckoned with], but aragorn is my man coz basically...he gets the girls, he's rather good at tracking [being a ranger and all] and he's indirectly responsible for the "dawn of man".

as for gollum? cute, isn't he?

i wish that they would have focused more on helm's deep. something tells me that the extended vcd/dvd is gonna have a scene of gandalf finding eomer. or whatever is name is. a good movie, nonetheless...and did i mention how cute gollum is? hard to believe that they remodelled him. i love the lighting effects...he does look cgi, but more realistic than whatever cgi has given us so far.

kudos. yes.

"the closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm". yes, pippin.

malaysian drivers wouldn't know generousity even if it hit them in the face. this is the perfect example: i'm driving on the right lane, and someone from the middle lane signals and wants to cut in. i slow down, and offer him some room...only he hesitates. and i wait...and wait...and in the end, just as i'm about to accelerate, he moves in. this has happened more than once. it makes you wonder if we're all so selfish that we don't really comprehend what being nice is. this is only on the road, of course. we all could be saints on our feet, but on wheels, we're the devil reincarnate. but it's all good. i never realized how jammed up the federal highway could be until today. i was going to subang to meet hannah for a cuppa but somehow or other, the federal, of all places, was jammed. i wasn't really expecting it. i don't think that i'd ever been on the federal during a weekend at around 4...now i know how it feels. the good thing was, the congestion was going one way...the way back to kl didn't look bad at all. the bad thing was, when i was going back to kl, it was another case of massive congestion. not very fun, no.

i think i've mentioned the annoying people who travel slow on the fast lane...what about those who leave a massive amount of space between them and the car in front of them? especially if they're going incredibly slow on the fast lane as well. everyone from the middle lane cuts in front of them and they do nothing about it...but they don't budge. revolting. if you can't keep up, get out of the way. this might be my second time repeating this phrase...i'm not too sure. hmph. oh, well. traffic was bitching today...i seem to drive better when i'm not really thinking about driving. i'm not saying my attention increases by not paying attention at all...it's just that i can drive better without really trying. it must've been the weather.

dammit, i'm hungry.

i had something akin to a nightmare last night. i mean, akin to a nightmare means that it isn't exactly a nightmare on the normal technical terms of you waking up to a cold sweat and breathing heavily...it was something a little bit more personal. i dreamt that i was balding badly...badly...on the right side of my head. it might not seem that big a deal to you, and it might just be another matter of vanity that i carry heavily in my heart, but as godiva said, "my hair is my life". well, not exactly...my life might be my dreamcast, but anyway, hair, to me, is important. if you don't take care of it well enough, it may run out on you before too long. as for me, i already have a receding hairline...which is depressing, but i'm guessing it's a result of eating instant noodles and being adversely affected by the msg they put in the soup powder. oh, well...i guess that i can't have it one way or another. this is known as approach-avoidance motivational conflict in marketing...in short, you can't live with it, you can't live without it [instant noodles].

you get free snippets of marketing theory here. how much better could it get?

mmph. i'm attempting to eat only a meal a day. and that meal's going to be dinner...plus, it's going to be a meal of [you guessed it!] instant noodles. suicidal? i think not. a meal a day, coupled with football and maybe a soft drink as a treat, and i'll hopefully be back to my old size 31 as opposed to my size 34 now. the whole vanity issue comes back, but i'm a damn good looking size 31. yes, i am. and if i keep this up, it'd just be on time for [sic]'s attempt at a live gig, whenever that is. and what about going to uni? well...sandwiches galore, i guess. nothing too big or small. whatever makes me happy. ugh. i'm hungry now. crackers.

fat might be beautiful...but i disgress.

it's a thursday morning. birds are chirping, the sun is surprisingly shining, and i'm listening to carol king sing about whether or not i'll love her tomorrow.

how wrong could the day get?

ian tai - not quite paradise (working title for album)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
(working title for songs in no sequence)
the von strucker gambit
dry magic
paradise*
in space
don't say anything
you're the one*
talia
bug repellant
the box
guilty
i want to know*
home
everything will pass
sheik yerbouti (1001 arabian nites)*
state of grace

* = tentative single release
------------------------------------
there's nothing wrong with song titles preceding any work whatsoever. as long as it sounds cool. ah, well. next step is financing.

mufflers/exhaust pipes are the bain of all peace-loving folk like me. you're at a mamak, minding your own business with friends while agonizing over chord progressions or girls or studies or fudgepackers and then, out of the blue, that all too familiar growl [often a whine] of a car that's more muff than might. i can't understand why people would modify their cars to such an extent that they could've gotten something groovier [home entertainment system, savings, investments, living/household expenses] instead of a full-on bodykit, spoilers, fins, rims, tires, sound systems and lcd screens with vcd players and the like. all is good and all, but...think about what you could've saved for. some may say that i'm being envious; i'm not. it makes noise, and it bloody keeps everyone awake when you're roaring through my street at 80 and unable to brake in time to make a turn that requires you to do 10, thus you slide out of control and screech around. and you still don't learn your lesson after that. [a lot of friends are going to disown me if they read this]. i can understand that customizing a vehicle to your own whims and fancies is something that everyone wants to do...hell, if i get a new car, i'd probably put something on it to make it all that more special...erm...maybe not...but, there're more important things in life. your kancil is a mean machine with a nice system and a booming exhaust...that's good, but is it going to stand up against an untouched m5?

i'm probably saying this because modified cars don't really go down with indies. i think indies would prefer to take the bus. which is quite...scary.

and that brings me to the subject of motorcycles. some say that motorcyclists don't deserve the criticism that they get. i think they do. if you bloody weave in and out without warning, with a pillion with you, you really don't value any form of life at all, do you? you don't care about the person riding with you, the motorist who has to swerve to avoid you, the people who'd probably shake their heads to themselves when you land yourself into some icu because you just had to get your gun off at the thought of being a doohan or a rossi on a kapchai dual stroke 150 cc machine. though crashing things isn't the point, at least you die with some protection [and perhaps dignity] in an automobile; bikes have two wheels - helmets only reduce the shock to the head - they don't absorb it. bikes get in the way, really. sometimes you can blame them, and sometimes, you can't...they're just a nightmare to have around most of the times. you take the good in with the bad, i suppose. wearing a helmet doesn't make you any smarter; and it sure as hell doesn't make you any safer. it's all in the way you ride. the same can be said about cars: a seat belt may save you, but it's your noggin that has to do the hard work.

i should be some sort of community service spokesman.

faster.

that's how we should be doing things. people say that we move fast enough in these times; i say we haven't quite gotten there yet. how do you rate how fast your life is moving? by the amount of work you get done? times flies in an instant. the more pressured you are, [obviously] the faster everything around you seems to be. we're always pressured; but we never break under it [those lucky enough, anyway]. time is just relative; there's so much you can do to it once you use it the way it's meant to be used. and once you've achieved your maximum efficiency, there's still always space for improvement. time management is essential. the faster you do things, the more time you have for yourself to do other things [or more time to do the same things in bigger helpings]. time. tick tock. like bombs, we are. which is why my desired mutant power would be to slow down time...with me being the only constant, of course. i'd live in virtual time, age instantly in real-time...just have a whole world on pause [or going at a very, very slow frame rate] all to myself.

faster.

that's how we should be driving. when you're going 90 [at least] with everyone else around you doing likewise, and all of a sudden there's someone [usually a woman] going 60 on the fast lane who's refusing to budge. it's nice to know that there're people who do value their lives to the extent of crawling, but driving slowly has an equal chance of causing accidents [and not to mention flaring tempers]. bitches. sunday drivers. they take it literally. they think that doing the right thing is always the right thing. holier-than-thou. indeed.

faster.

that's how i wish my brain would move sometimes. as in right now. now. now. dammit. doesn't work.

i could never see how some people can just sleep on the cue and not wake up for another...well, for a long while. i most that i could ever get out of myself in bed would be 6 hours [though there've been times when i've slept in and actually gotten somewhere], and the least that i can live on is probably 4 hours. is it unhealthy? i think so, but...i don't know...call it some strange belief, but i'd rather live my life awake than sleeping, if if i'm not doing anything. but if i nod off to sleep while attempting to do something drastically different and life-affirming, then at least it can be understood that i was trying to do something for the greater good. i never really knew what feeling tired about was until i went to college. i actually felt drained sometimes...laggy, with that light-headed feeling that made you close your eyes. i think it's been with me ever since. sleepy habits through school were pretty alright. sleep at 11-ish, wake up at about 6. college was more or less the same. these days, i'm lucky if i can even follow some sort of regular schedule of slumber. my sleeping patterns are erratic...it's good to know that i'm not the only one. but i guess it comes down to fun living. i mean, going to someone's house up to about 5 in the morning and coming home at dawn does pose some problems, no? maybe i should cut down on it...naaaah.

i'm feeling quite weird right now. i woke up to a cold morning, and my...erm...ribs?...lungs?...seem to ache a bit. it'd probably pass, but it's got me scared. a full night exposed to a very, very quick fan is worrying. sooner or later, something's probably going to happen...remind me to get some sheets. then again, i sleep on the couch all the time...is it really feasible? i wish i had a new sofa...at least a sofa bed. if my dad does come back from chinese new year, i've got to beg him for one. those things are just cool...the stylish side of single living and bumliness. people wonder how i can sleep on a couch...well, it's a couch that i've always fallen into during the years...it's a matter of plopping down on it and going out like a light. it helps if there's norah jones on the player...something to wipe you out completely. and i'm not saying that her music is boring; if it was i would never have bought it...it's just that it's the best source of relaxation after a long day. mmm...oh, well.

yesterday's bitterness has been replaced by the anticipation of a good day. 2 hours of class, a discussion about men and flowers are sure to follow. i just hope that my uncle wakes up in time to buy lunch and bring the car home to me [he sleeps like a pig, though rather erratically]. my longest time without sleep has probably been 36 hours...i pulled that in brazil a couple of times, but i've never been able to beat it. oh, well, one of these days, i guess.

in the meantime...

ah bengs. ah lians. we look at them. we may scoff at them. but in a way, there're pretty damn cool. dyed hair. thick glasses. that androgynistic dress sense. solid. i knew the term "beng" was around, even when i was still in gis...which is quite surprising, seeing how gis was meant to be an international school as opposed to a local school. you had local slang running up all the time..."perasan" [full of yourself], and a variety of other words that i can't really say here. local slang, yea? anyway, back to the matter at hand...i really do respect bengs and lians for their boldness and individuality, but at the same time, a guy who basically wears a pair of black nylon trousers with a flower stitched on as well as a pair of gucci-like sandals is either in need of major therapy, a girlfriend, or attention. there's only so much that i can say about my support for them. oh, well. i think bengs and lians hang out in cliques...you won't see indie rockers like me [or so i dream] with a beng. you also won't see bengs hanging out with indie rockers like me [or so i dream, again...indie is good].

but i think that we should try to break down the barriers between beng and indies...and bengs and everyone else. then again, since eight tenths of kl is filled with bengs, i think that we should all just break down barriers and accept indies. indies are everywhere...you have malay indies, indian indies, and the chink indie has suddenly sprung up during the last few years. more and more kids are going indie, and it's only a matter of time before three eighths of kl is filled with indies, disregarding the fact that five eighths of kl will still be filled with bengs. we also have girls in malls going indie [or at least avril...i saw a girl at the megamall wearing a tie with her shirt]. we're about to make a resurgence...it's indie, not punk. punk's totally different. i think punks constitute one tenth of kl. and they're hard to find, but they're there in their underground, looking for a resurgence as well. feng tao is all good and it's still in, but...let's come together. we could do indie-beng music crossovers ([sic] goes chinese - that would be due to edwin, but he's not beng, he's indie), we could mix and match our clothes [i'll even wear the flower pants as long as there's an adidas top!]...i'll even bop my head along to a bass drum as long as i see dyed hair in the next [sic] gig (coming soon, may i add!)

it could be groundbreaking, really. so...why not go ahead with it?

change. make change.

(isn't that the za tagline?)

i really do respect ah bengs. i just wish there was another way to label them..."ah beng" seems to deragatory. and i've got friends who resent being called that as well...because they *claim* that they're not. oh, well. you can't win 'em all.

indie is back. hail the king, man.

politics: i don't care much for it, and as far as i'm concerned, it's just another game that power mongers play to gain favour and support for a variety of reasons. you could be playing the game in support of your own interests, and thus, you'd be probably serving the people for yourself. from what i always read in the papers, it seems that MPs never really show up in parliament. endless campaigning, lots of lip service, but that's all you get...a tease, not a blow. politics remains an open book to me...it's probably just like marketing, really. it's all about dressing up a penny to be a commemorative coin and selling it for a buck. and in the end, we see rifts in one single party, we get people who can't agree on anything, and we again bare witness to cronyism in the works. and then we've got the people in the parties themselves...i'm sure that there really are some good people in there who really do want to serve the people in the right way, but they can't in the end, can they? the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. and in certain circles, i guess that the needs of the many rely more on the self than the environment. everyone wants to move up in politics...it's hard to deny that no one wants to be a backbencher. so it's no surprise that you get two "teams" within a single party (but they're chinese, anyway, so i guess being kiasu is imperative), with two frontrunners at throat's end within each other. jesus. you'd expect people to come together for the good of blah blah blah, but obviously, everyone only looks out for themselves. and that's another thing: those who opt for a mutiny. let's say that you're in the opposition...you're basically already sinking, and them you jump ship to the majority. that already underscores your desire to prevail, as opposed to sinking with the rest of the crew. it's all about self-interests, i guess. but do they perform mutiny because they can serve the people better? do you think they do? i don't know, really...maybe they do, but...i'm just a cynic. i don't even know if i want to vote. it's like an oligopoly of parties out there. i wish there were like...3 more parties that would really be different and that would just shake things up for the fun of it.

i'd vote for a gay alliance party anytime. just for fun.

why the sudden subject of politics? i guess you can say that i'm just expressing disgust on my aunt. yea, it's a personal attack...slanderous, even. i don't know what she does, really...she's apparently the mca's deputy head of strategic affairs for women or something to that extent. she's also deputy wanita mca [that's the mca's ladies' wing to the uninitiated] for kepong. she's responsible for some stuff...such as the mca helpline [though i honestly doubt the idea came from her thick head]...as well as...well...stuff [yes, i know, i'm ignorant, but...i only care about what i think]. she's all about the prestige of the job, i guess. it's quite depressing, really. she buys the malay and english dailies just to read articles about her, and to see how the interviews have gone...she constantly keeps on telling everyone about how great she was at a particular talk, sypnosium, whatever...she keeps on belittling colleagues...it brings new measure to the word "hypocrite". is she good at her job? i don't know. she was on tv the other day on this show called "wanita hari ini" ["women today"] on tv3. she appeared tense...nervous. in short: she doesn't belong on tv. not to mention the fact that she may have made an idiot of herself. but will i tell that to her face? no, i won't. and maybe that makes me more of a hypocrite than she is. but at least i can admit that, no? not to mention the amount of shite she's basically made the whole family go through, but that's a very different story for a very different time. what i'm trying to say is, if this is what it's all about...if this is what serving the people for the good of the people is about...then...we live in a very sad world. and the worse thing is, this is how it is around the world. we always cry for change...and some say that they do heed the words. well. that's all fine and good. but the fact that there're two component parties to one party alone sorta just makes it clear how sick things are. it's not a question of who's right or wrong...it's just a question of who's going to be still around when the smoke clears.

i'd love to be a politician. i'd probably be the only idiot in the mca who doesn't speak a word of chinese.

i never expected so many cars on the federal highway at half past 5 in the morning, despite it being a early sunday morning after what could be a long night on the town. it's been a while since i've driven this late during a weekend...erm...unless you count paolo's new year's day party, and that'd be dumb 'cause it was already the 2nd of january. anyway, i was at paolo's house playing on my dreamcast. he had edwin over, and...well...three guys, lots of food, and video games. 'nuff said. at about 12:40, we decided that we needed more food, so we rushed [RUSHED] to tesco [which closed at 1] and got there in time, with a few minutes to spare. cheap thrills, maybe, but i bought a bucketload of cheap pastries for myself that're with me right now. i couldn't finish them...i guess i'm not that much of a pig...or am i? we didn't play that many games...just the two basketball games, street fighter zero 3 and...erm...chef's luv shack. not bad for four hours. i guess most of the time was taken up by the basketball games...and i've learnt something about myself: i suck at video games. i thought that i was good...well, i know that i was good once upon a time...but i've totally lost it. it's just so annoying when someone beats you at street fighter continuously and you know that you could've just kicked @$$ a while back. i've lost my timing, my patience...i've lost my edge. it does seem rather pathetic to be whining about a downward slide in video game playing ability, but when it's something that i used to pride myself in...then i guess it's worth the whine. maybe i should talk about the food at tesco? prices for the pastries are cut by almost 50% after 12...or something like that. according to paolo, everything becomes incredibly cheap...he found that out today when going there, i think. stuff in tesco is even cheaper than carrefour. but...i live right next to carrefour while tesco is just...a long, long, long way off. i complain about paolo living all the way in puchong for one reason: it's too damn far.

there's this homework question that i have for marketing...it's a rather fun question, and i've seen it before in the textbook but i can't remember where it is. basically, it runs along the lines of why men can't accept flowers to be the practical gifts for various occasions as opposed to women, and how the attitude of men towards flowers can be changed. now, mr. liew, our lecturer, came to tell us about how men gave men opera/ballet/whatever performers in russia flowers, as a token of appreciation. that's all good and all, but that's europe...the rest of the world doesn't really fancy it. i don't think men who give other men flowers are gay or whatever...and i'm not against any gays...it's just that i can't picture myself giving flowers to another man. it's just...weird, i guess. macho instinct crap. and i doubt that mr. liew's story about the flower giving has changed my mind at all. flowers. men. don't mix. i don't mind giving flowers to hannah for valentine's day/birthday/any other day. i don't mind giving my mom flowers, just that she'd throw them away. i don't mind receiving flowers from a member of the opposite gender when i'm sick. but...not from men. and i doubt that most of the guys i know would want flowers too. "...flowers in the window..." fran healy can be such a twit sometimes. that's a joke. i love travis as much as everyone else, but you have to wish that things weren't so bloody soft sometimes.

so...why do men have the problem with flowers? well...i'm assuming it has to do mainly with upbringing. i don't know why i'm against the idea...my parents never really conditioned me to think that flowers were a bad thing to give...it's just that...i never really saw much use for them. also, i guess it could also come down to my peers...how many other guys do you know give flowers away for presents? mmmph. society around us has made men, and boys, the victims of stereotyping. when we're boys, we need to play with our trucks and gi joes and whatever...girls have their dolls, their tea parties...what happens if all this goes wrong one day? what if guys start losing their aggressiveness and the girls get hard? it's already happening. the current generation of kids are a hard lot to figure out. have we been so concrete in our thinking that we can't be open to something new? i think so. we're prejudiced because we've been made that way; that's the only way to explain it. it's going to take generations more to unlearn what we have learnt. what'm i trying to say? that some people, due to a particular form of upbringing, may never have open minds.

for example, some look down or frown upon smokers. they assume that they're possibly evil people, with cruel intentions, without anything good to offer. it's a fact that some people think about it; in the end, it's the heart, but appearances matter. you can be an angel on the outside, but you're satan incarnate on the inside. the same goes for it the other way; the smoker might have a heart of gold. but some of us would be too blind...we'd just get the first impression a go.

ugh. i sound so...brown-nosed and cheery. come. let's make a bonfire, hold hands and dance.

anyway, it's got to do with the changing of mindsets. i guess. the second part of the question asks how men can be loosened up to think that it's okay. well...i guess we can do a few things:

#1: "give a flower" campaign - featuring various male, macho celebs like george clooney [the rugged look], tom cruise [the cool one] and harrison ford [gets to shag calista] in various poses of flower-offering, showing plain men around the world that if they can do it, so can we

#2: "giving a flower is positive for the health" campaign - highlighting the health benefits of offering flowers to men and how it increases potency without pain or drugs

#3: "women dig it" campaign - feature how women see a man who offers flowers to another man as a new-age, sensitive kind of guy, and how it increases a man's desirability and how it raises a woman's mojo

#4: "new age man" campaign - underscores that fact that men in today's world need to get in touch with their softers sides, and that flower giving is the first step in a long journey of spiritual discovery and redemption

we can only hope. but in the meanwhile, i'll just stay non-commited to the whole thing. it's only homework; it doesn't mean that i have to live by it. besides...if a man can't have his mind changed by anyone besides himself, what's the point? flowers by the window, yes; just not at mine.

mmm. it's almost 10 in the morning on the third day of the new year...wait...second day. it feels quite strange, really. it's the second day, but i've already broken a resolution. well, frankly, the only one i made. food is good at the gomes house. it runs free-flowing and a-plenty. so does alcohol, but that's a different story. i came home at about 5-ish...not bad, seeing how this is almost 5 hours later. i have no sleep. i guess that in certain terms, i still can push my body beyond its definite limits. i don't know what the repercussions of my sleep deprivation are going to be later in life, but...alas...this is the price that i have to pay. anyway, the food was good. i went for 3 rounds, each additonal round of food gathering having substantially less food than the round before it. my dreamcast was sorta the party attraction...some people from church were there and...well...we sort of bonded over super puzzle fighter.

immaculate.

mmm. [sic] is indeed back. we have a band...again. which is all fun and good, except that i've discovered that [sic] isn't meant to be all fun and good...[sic] is still very much the product of paolo and we basically serve his musical interests as opposed to our own. then again, in paolo we trust, yea? anyway, one day we can take legal action against our dear mr. gomes and demote to the role of "guitar player" as opposed to "dictator". i know it sounds lame and all, but...really.

i'm too good and warm and fuzzy and nice for my own being. yes, indeed.

i can't remember why i posted this in the first place, now.

i think it was liv tyler who said something about not really wanting to make resolutions because we can change ourselves if we really try hard throughout the year, as opposed as trying for one day and breaking the resolutions soon enough. but, as much as i hate to go against the world of Arwen [i need a life], i've only got one [it might count as two] resolution[s] for this year:

#1: eat less.

amen.

i don't know...how many resolutions have you broken before?

how many resolutions are you gonna break?

no more resolutions. no.

except to put off the pounds...that, at least, is understandable.

happy new year...on to the next one.

new year's eve. i always call it an excuse for people to go out and just...well, go out. but at the same time, i guess it's justified. how often do you see a year [literally] wither and die, in anticipation for a new one that's just around the corner for sure? nothing can be so certain in life than the revelry and the crowds flocking and thronging the streets on the eve. yesterday...last night...was no exception. i went to bangsar with the remnants of [sic] - gomes and sanjeev - and walked around. that was at about 9:30 ++...the place wasn't so flocked and crowded. we then proceeded to look for somewhere to be...always a hard one. people go to bangasr because they just...go to bangsar. it doesn't necessarily mean that they're going to some pub. they probably just hang around 7-11. which is what they do. we went to visit this place called voyeur, which apparently plays house and jungle, but we didn't quite fancy it at first. we then went to vintage, where my liver fell prey to a mug of tiger...and then we went to the mamaks, coz...well...food is the best counter to alcohol. i then parted company with [sic] to come home and...bum. yes. not much.

but it's a new year.

next: resolutions.