Monday, March 28, 2005

the paranoia within.


sometimes i walk around with this feeling that we were destined for greater things...just that reality didn't agree with us deserving it. humanity prides itself on rising above expectations and doing the unimaginable...and every now and then, we hear the occasional story that brings tears to our eyes and hope into our hearts, but, the sad truth is, that's about as good as it'd ever get, if we're going to continue on this path that we've paved for ourselves. mass appeal and mass consumerism have already killed whatever taste that the majority would have, as we're spoon fed whatever data is out there today. now, being spoon fed everything isn't that bad...convenience for your fives senses. manufactured, processed goodness. life is, after all, a process...who says that whatever we do in life can't be processed to make it easier for us?

no, being spoon fed is good. it's just that the further we go, the less of a choice we have about it. the world is missing a renaissance of sorts. we're become more and more transfixed upon pleasing ourselves through pleasing everyone around us, that being different is either seen as a handicap or a obstacle to progress. different is "weird". in a world where our "differences" should be celebrated, nothing drives the point home better than the fact that in the world over, we're listening to the same music. giving in to the same pop thrash. our girls are teenyboppers. their girls are teenyboppers. individualism is withering away from generation to generation.

we're all more prone to submit to externalities than we ever were before. some may say that it feels right...others may counter that argument.

this new "renaissance" doesn't really fit in. in the past, the age of the renaissance was one of discovery and wonder. i know that i'm documenting a sound bite, but it's true...people were filled with so much more...finesse. maybe i've got my head in the clouds. maybe i'm not seeing the fact that technology, culture and even girls are so much better than they probably were aeons ago. but that's not the point. we're regressing into these cocoons, expecting something, someone to come along and prop us up and tell us to buck up. that's not going to happen anytime soon. we're hounded senselessly by messages, whether subliminal or otherwise, to better our lives.

better living through chemistry? fuck, no.

subtlety is lost. art is lost. passion is lost. and there's nothing that we can do about it, because we're all prone to embrace everything we have now and think of it as 'good'. doubtlessly, it is...it's all good. but life is less organic than it was way back then, when everything was appreciated and nothing was taken for granted.

it's as if we're living as though there's no joy left in life anymore.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Square, Square, Triangle, Square.


I hate Tekken. I’ve had a minimum amount of time on it. I’ve always belonged more to the classic Capcom clan (those who rave about Marvel vs. Capcom have no idea whatsoever). There’re only two degrees of attacks (just like MK, but at least classic MK was fun). I thought that Tekken would be more like X-Men: Next Dimension (which, despite what they say, is a fantastic game). I hate Tekken. The whole timing issue is irrelevant. It’s got more to do with reflex and combos. Yes, I know that combos are a norm now, but I come from a school of gaming where combos were basic, crude and…come to think of it…slightly unthinkable. Yes, I hate Tekken. I hate it to a point where I had to play it for a whole night and not grow bored of it. Funnily enough, button mashing felt good. It could’ve been a good form of stress relief. Or I just could’ve had fun with it. Or it could’ve been the gorgeous graphics. I’m not sure what it was. It’s not exactly Saturday yet…well, it’s 7 in the morning on Saturday, but it hasn’t exactly happened yet…but today [or at least the better part of the morning] is going to be spent button mashing and eating. I still hate Tekken, though. I’m playing it on Easy mode because I’m truly a Beginner.

It’s been a strange week. I’ve barely gone for my classes, but I’ve been staying in at college nonetheless. Work issues aside, I’m honestly getting sick of it. Waking up involves deliberating over what time I should arrive at college…or whether I should really wake up at all. The answer would definitely be in the positive, but…lord…I’m going to die. Preparations for the ball are getting better, but I think that some of us are going a little overboard on the concept of what this ball is, and what it could mean. I’m sick of hearing that it’s something that prepares us for the working life, even though it is. I don’t know how formal it’s supposed to be, and I can’t really be bothered. I’d rather it be an avant-garde kind of event so that people would be more comfortable. If there’re people going in with suits and gowns, excellent. If there’re not, then we’re stuck in the same fucking boat…again.

Would it be deemed a failure? No. Sold-out tables. But the chinks still not getting the point?

Yes. A failure. But I’m not here to change mindsets. Not anymore.

The weekend is going to be a bit of a mess. I don’t know if I should go to the HELP Idol (yes, it still makes me snicker) “celebration party”. I’d really sooner go and try beating Devil May Cry 3 (I attempted finishing off the second level boss too many times that Easy mode became available…the ultimate insult…this is the U.S. version, by the way), but my non-appearance may not actually be the best idea. I don’t understand why they need to have the party at John’s place as opposed to something like a proper restaurant. Shit, I would even have suggested to go to Hartz.

Now there’s an idea.

John’s handling of Sales and Promotion for the ball has ruffled feathers. More than the miniscule few. I don’t really know how to penalize him, or how to at least caution him because he doesn’t listen. It would be nice if he would at least hear us out once in a while. Some say that it’s because his ego is as large in quantity as his testosterone is. Others say that it’s because he was probably trained this way. I suppose that he’s got a bit of a playboy spirit…maybe a little more than others. But it doesn’t justify the fact of looking down on others as “low-class” or anything to that extent. I mean, shit, I’m a pompous ass at times, but I try my best not to look down on anyone. I expect a great worth out of people (so that if they fall below my expectations I’ll feel better about myself…life is sad). But going around the classes and acting like a top dog isn’t going to get you respect or accolades. Being personable does. And for all the “charisma” that he has, John doesn’t get it. And I can’t be bothered to tell him.

I suppose that it’s my fault. I hope that it works out. We’ve had to do a lot of damage control because of him. Absolutely fabulous, how this has all turned out.

God Bless the weekend.

Monday, March 21, 2005

I Deserve It.


The good people of the Kuala Lumpur Municipal Council [otherwise known as the DBKL] had the good humour of issuing another parking ticket today. The bastards. Why can't they leave an old Iswara alone? Yes, I know what you'd say...that I do deserve it. And it's likely that I do. But what'm I supposed to do...? Pledge obeisance to those Secure Parking corporate suits and buy the parking entry tickets?

I think not.

Yes, I know. I deserve it.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Raceday.


I would just like to say that Mark Webber is my hero, despite having been involved in a racing incident that he could be directly implicated in. Then again, we could also blame it on Raikkonen’s blown tyre, so it totally depends on your perception of it. Despite my own bias towards it, Williams really does look good this year [even though we’re two races into the season], and the reportedly “new” aerodynamic parts [14 of them] have played a major role today.

Basically, today has taught me a lot of things…

#1: Alex Yoong might look like a jock, but he’s quite the nervous type on television
#2: I might have to start smoking Mild Seven from now on because it’s currently the championship tobacco label
#3: I’ll start drinking a bottle of Red Bull a week because I kind of like the team
#4: The new rules split my mind up.

First, the logic. The fact that you can only use one set of tyres for one race leads to a lot of problems…Barichello had to retire due to increased tyre wear, and constant regressive state of the tyres are, for a fact, discouraging. On the bright side, brilliant engineering and adaptive driving come into play, because 1) the teams have to at least come up with a package remarkable enough to support the lack of tyre mortality and 2) drivers should basically be experienced enough to handle it. It was only a pity that Barichello was on a softer compound, but, yea.

Secondly, the cost cutting. One engine per two races, one set of tyres per race; it’s meant to cut costs, and simultaneously, make things harder for the teams and drivers, thus, giving the viewers something to watch. But, let’s face it; Formula One is still boring unless someone runs over tyre shrapnel and subsequently gets run over, and the trailers are still trailing. Look, I mean, Jordan’s still slow. Sauber uses Ferrari engines, but they don’t run like they do. And honestly, who cares about Minardi (besides the aforementioned Mr. Yoong, who, currently, is trying to disassociate himself from the memory of it)?

My personal man of the race would be Webber, because he got miffed and wasn’t afraid to show it. Ralf Schumacher deserves a good thrashing. He might have almost died last year, but he’s still ugly. And Mark drives a Williams…you can’t go wrong there. Kudos to Renault, though. Like I said…Mild Seven.

So, next up is Bahrain. Fabulous. Ferrari might not even want to bring the new car over, and that might be a double-edged sword. Then again, with 19 races this season, they’ve got plenty of time to catch up and give everyone else a run for their money. But on the bright side, I haven’t received the obligatory Tiffosi phone call, complete with nagging Tiffosi theme-song (Italian flag, indeed) from that one super-annoying Ferrari fan.

I only wonder how long it’d be before I get that one ring. One ring to rule them all, the tagline says. Hopefully it won’t be that one.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Rushing.


So, after five months’ worth of work, HELP Idol 2005 is over. Thank goodness for that, I suppose. Shahslyana turned out to be the winner [thus performing Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You], and she did it in style. It was also a night of stupid comments from me, such as, “We love bald Indian men!” [addressed to Prem], as well as “Ian, I want to have your baby!” [addressed to the other Ian]…I think they were a wide range of other stupid comments made, which I can’t be bothered to remember.

The highlight of the night, though, would probably be getting Juwita Suwito to sign my copy of her album, Brand New World. I’m not really an autograph chaser, but that was pretty nifty.

After the event, Helen, Chin Chin, Stanley, Siew Fai, Ms. Grace and I went to Rush. I haven’t actually been inside since it was rechristened from Viva, so…that was pretty fun.

On another note, I received my first summons from the DBKL earlier in the morning. I had parked by the Menara Bangsar condo building, but along the opposite side of the lane, which was also subsequently yellow-lined. It's RM 30, and I should be thankful, but all I can say is this...life's a bitch, eh?

I’m just going to enjoy the weekend.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

wearing thin.


okay. i'm just sort of burnt out. not as much as melissa, but i'm more sick of doing all this than she is...if she says that she's tired of it, she has no idea. 1 more day til the help idol final, and we haven't sold enough tickets to make a decent crowd. and three weeks until the ball, and...i'm worried. amazingly, i don't really show it, which makes people think that i'm the eternal slacker, but i'm not. though it's rather difficult to prove since everyone already has the idea that i'm having the time of my life doing this embedded in their heads. excellent.

extracurricular activities. fun. fun. fun. no, really, they are...but yesterday i realized that i've been doing this event-planning thing for 5 months straight, since help idol was conceptualized. it's funny how some things take shape.

i'm tired. and i know that a lot of other people are, as well.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

The Wacko Strikes.


Amidst the insanity of Carrefour-bought sushi, and a 1.5 litre bottle of Pepsi Light Lemon or whatever it’s called, is this…an ode to MJ. Enjoy.
--------------------
there was a time when little boys
would grace the halls of neverland
they would come to flock and see
the great big MJ mystery

now they're in courthouse moots
waxing pedophilic roots
asking for this in return:
lots of cash, cash, cash to burn

but remember this, you who believe
MJ fans don't need to grieve
though he might like little boys
though he might use them like toys

he brought the moonwalk to the fore
he brought billie jean down to the floor
he told that girl she rocked his world
think about this: it was a girl

no one has the Gloved One's shine
the Timberlakes can wait in line
for there is only one King of Pop
though for little boys, his pants will drop

so take heed, those who critique
this wacko is far from meek
he shall rise above our fears
maybe in 10 to 20 years

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Some Girls.


In my short, yet eventful life, I’ve grown accustomed to knowing girls with emotional issues. Not just any emotional issues, but with the main focus of these unresolved emotional crises revolving around guys. In this day and age, where women’s lib has worked beyond expectations, and where feminism itself has died and progressed onto something greater, girls still have to deal with the day-to-day issues of boy meets girl, boy surreptitiously dumps girl in the only way that they know how…by thinking about it everyday. Now, when I look at it in this way, I would see myself whining over Hannah in a state in which Schwarzenegger would label me as a “sissy man”. Granted, it was hard, but even if I do think about the aftermath of whatnot, I don’t do it in public, and instead, suffer internally.

Not that I’m whining now, mind you. God…I feel that I’ve just been found out. Sorry, May Ann. Big whooper.

Anyway, the point in being is this: I won’t disclose the details of the person whom I’m talking about, but she tends to overemphasis on the fact that it was a very meaningful relationship. That lasted three weeks. Though the post-breakup moments were the most meaningful that she had ever had with a guy. But, I point out once again, it only lasted for three weeks. That’s one week shy of a month. A few eggs shy of a basket. It’s three weeks. Not the six months after that.

Now, I’m always a good shoulder to cry on because I can tell you to move on with life. But this, once again, takes the case. Wan Ling was bad enough as it is, because she couldn’t shut up, but that’s alright, because she’d just gotten out of a 5 year relationship [though please keep in mind that the whole feminine “I don’t understand why…” rhetoric was getting sickening]. I tend to help people get along because I listen, and I listen good, but my advice remains the same: the guy was an ape, so move along. I suppose that people can’t really disconnect themselves from the past, and I don’t endorse a complete disassociation…I do think that it’s a slow, painful process.

But whining about it won’t help.

My advice to Wan Ling was to go out, party, try to get laid…and, well, she did. The latter, of course, with her newfound [it’s been a few months] love, and she’s happy. Now, in this new case, I would recommend the same, but unlike Wan Ling, who has kind of fucked me off and prefers not to talk to me anymore [you’re welcome for the help, by the way], I see this new case almost everyday. All I can really do is to tell her that the guy did her wrong [and from her side of the story, he did], and for her to move on and make something out of herself, and focus on her competencies.

I guess endlessly repeating this would help, but for some strange reason, I think she likes wallowing in her misery despite the fact that she constantly stresses on the fact that she’s unstable. People who publicly voice out their “instability” are either very vocal, or just overplaying it. And I really do think that she’s thinking too much of it and overplaying it, and…well, it’s quite a farce. Like I told her, I can only see the situation has funny, because it’s all passed, and…she’s still stuck in the past.

Ladies, please…it’s okay to be Lady Heartbroken, but after a while, it’s just passé. Take it from the guy who’s heard it all.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Depressive Monday Blues.


Within an hour or two, I’ll be sleeping. I’ll most probably wake up at 8 o’clock, whereby I’ll brush my teeth, take a shower, and have breakfast at the roadside Indian stall. I’ll also probably take my time in not going to my Relationship Marketing tutorial [Mr. Chew loves to pick on the repeating students], and be happy with my three hour Project Management class [one of the few classes that have been fun during these last few semesters]. At the same time, I’ll be running around during my free time, trying to hawk people some HELP Idol tickets, as well as try to convince some Diploma students about my sincerity in saying that my ball is going to be a blast.

Which, of course, it’s going to be…granted that we don’t screw up too soon.

The weekend came and went without much fanfare. Saturday was utterly quiet and strangely smooth, even though we went down to the Shangri-La to check on the facilities and try to get a better feel of the surroundings. After that, my half of the contingent went to the McD’s drive-in at Bandar Utama and indulged in junk food. Well, I indulged in junk food…here’s my scorecard:

  1. 1 Chicken McDeluxe [which I still consider to be a godsend after 2 years]
  2. 1 set of large fries & 1 set of medium fries [I ate Mary-Ann's portion]
  3. 6 McNuggets [Melissa gave me 2 pieces and a 4-pack]
  4. 1 1/4 large-sized cups of coke [I took the balance of Melissa and Mary-Ann's portions]
  5. 1 Apple Pie [it's like Heaven in a cardboard box]

I was sort of interested in trying out the new Chicken Foldover, which I’ll probably do tomorrow. Despite Mary-Ann’s insistence that it was large [well, it does look substantial], I doubt that it’s filling. On a side note, Apple Pies are becoming a staple to my McDonald’s meals. Like I said, they’re pieces of Heaven in a cardboard box [apparently recycled].

Sunday. It’s hard to believe that it’s a Monday morning when Sunday died about an hour ago. Sunday was Sunday…quiet, slow-burning and peaceful. I went to my mother’s, where we argued at length over the operation of a VCD player and the fact that you’re not supposed to be able to listen to vocals on a karaoke VCD. I had brunch there, and went home quickly with the excuse that the clothes needed drying. Which they did. Surprisingly, I came home and found that their cycle hadn’t finished yet, which was quite worrying.

But what I am to tell you all about the art of washing clothes? At this point, I’d like to thank my incredibly gifted girlfriend for teaching me the art of pulling clothes, so as not to let them me crumpled whilst being dried.

Sunday. Hmph. I just came back from dinner with Justin and Theo. We had dinner at Hartamas Square [after a lot of deliberation]. It all started with Justin’s weekly rant about Sunday being too Sunday. We met at 7-11, and amidst many cigarettes and talk about weight loss and diet plans, saw the close destruction of my car, thanks to an overeager son trying to prove to his father that he could reverse the family Waja properly. I wish I could tell that kid to relax…and that reversing requires you to turn out all the way at the acute angle you entered with, so that you avoid any cars that you would otherwise ram into.

The prick. The nerve of he to screw with me [or at least the car], eh?

The night continued at Theo’s house, because he had to, in his own words, “take a dump”. We watched Astro without making a move, until it came to the bottom line of deciding where to eat. And to Hartamas we went.

I know I’ve just given you a blow-by-blow of my day[s]. But I suppose that weekends are there to give you the luxury to live life at a slower pace than usual. And now we’re onto Monday. I’m not in a terrible hurry to start a new week, but all I can say is that it’s going to come, regardless of whether I want it to or not.

I notice that it’s been almost nigh a week since I last blogged here. I suppose that I can say that I’m not finding it as fulfilling as it once was. Gone are the times where Elvis would be critiqued, and the inner mysteries of life discussed. There’s nothing more worrying than becoming generic.

Next thing you know, I’ll be saying how thankful I am for being in a relationship.

Bummer. There we go.

Spontaneity will return. I promise.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Jello for Breakfast.


No, I haven’t had it yet. I’m waiting for it, in my fridge, to turn turgid. But it’s quite an interesting idea, isn’t it?...Jello for breakfast. It’s that blue Jello, whose flavour, for the life of me, I can’t remember. I never was a big fan of Jello…granted, I never was a big fan of anything as a child…but the local variant, agar-agar, was the closet that I got to Jello as a child. All I remember about Jello when I was younger was how Bill Cosby would be on TV ads. I think he said something about nutritional goodness. I loved Bill Cosby. Can’t remember anything he was in, though.

So the stomach is back to normal, and the fever had died down. Whoopee. Tomorrow [or, if we’re being technical, later today], I’ve got to see the Head of Department to give him the lowdown on the ball. I’m not prepared, but funnily enough, Melissa is. Fabulous. I’m the most out-of-touch head of a student society ever. The Big Wu [I’m running out of names for him] is expecting something from us, and I plan to deliver…not for his sake, but for ours.

Jello for breakfast. How apt.

On a more celebratory note, congratulations to the ‘Phonics for their first #1 UK single! Now, if only I could find a torrent to rip the new album off…

Monday, March 07, 2005

Sick Day.


Look, I don’t like getting sick, even if I don’t go to classes because of it. Fevers are the worst…when you’ve got that surreal, out of body experience, that you’re in control but not fully…it’s an awful feeling. Saturday night was spent feeling pinned down onto the sofa, and yesterday was spent sleeping throughout the day…now it’s Monday morning, and I can say that I’m feeling better, though I’m still not at my standard optimal levels. And the case of diarrhea doesn’t make it any better…something that I’ve had throughout the last two days. I’ve frequented the toilet more than I’ve frequented the kitchen…now to think of it, I wasn’t even eating anything yesterday. I still don’t know if I’m up to eating anything…I’m not exactly hungry. Not with a stomach like this.

I just want to lie down and sleep all this off, but I have to go to the Project Management lecture at 11…for the sake of it being the only subject I’m not repeating this semester. There’s nothing wrong with that…but may I bring you back to the problem of the funky tummy?

Preparations for the ball, are, as what Melissa would call…”wobbly”. I’m getting a headache for it…but if we pull this off, then it’d be one hell of a triumph…and if we don’t, we’re going to be working at the Shangri-La Hotel for a long time.

Let’s hope not, no?

Friday, March 04, 2005

starting from zero.


for some unknown reason, i've deleted all saved games off my ps2 memory card. i'm in that sort of mood where i just want to finish one game, but to do that, i've got to somehow start from zero and work my way up. this has got more to do with my catalogue of games [i admit that i've got quite a few], and how to clear them. anybody want some games for sale? please? contact me.

anyway, it's been an exhausting week. i've been in college for all five days for a variety of different reasons. the last two days have been interesting...on wednesday, my aunt refused to pay a cheque for my tuition fees...yesterday, she refused to lend her signature to a form that would extend my payment date...and this morning, at 4, my father called up telling her to help pay for the fees temporarily. this was after two very long and whiney e-mail messages, by the way.

i'm a born whiner. that's all i do these days.

i've announced to the world that tomorrow's a rest day because i've been in college this whole week. what i'm really going to do tomorrow is to clear out Ops and try to sleep in my designated bedroom. which does really need a makeover of sorts. i might just move my ps2 back to its original place, as opposed to next to the pc. it does get a bit annoying. we'll see.

spring cleaning. again. whoopee.