Rewarping Something

This blog is dead.

2010-08-26T01:50:00.000+08:00

This blog is dead. Don't come back.

Initiate Launch Sequence

2008-06-22T17:43:00.005+08:00

It's a while since my last post, but that's because I now subscribe to the content method of writing my articles, compared to the episodic method I once favoured.

Regardless of the reasons, I will now make another monumental announcement:
I shall be leaving Balik Pulau, for Kota Kinabalu.

After six months, I finally received confirmation of my acceptance into Universiti Malaysia Sabah to study International Tropical Forestry.

How and what does it mean by "International", when I can find no in-depth details of the programme on the UMS homepage, remains to be seen.

How will this affect you? Well, it means I am one step closer to becoming Environment Minister of Malaysia, whereupon I will do everything possible to make your life a living hell if you so much as toss a plastic bag onto the streets.

Finally, a link to a fascinating blog discussing the issues of anime fansubbing. I would prefer you read it and understand the issues before you download your next anime.

In fact, I hope you will forever be dogged by feelings of guilt (like me), about downloading anime. But that would mean I would expect you to care.

LOL.
ROTFLMAO.
LOL

The EverAnime Stink

2008-05-22T03:41:00.006+08:00

I wish to share something personally painful.

My pride and joy.

My first Cowboy Bebop CD, is a bootleg.

Okay, the pictures:

Here's Cowboy Bebop: No Disc

Here's another view.

And here's the moneyshot.

Know why?

Ever Anime is a known bootleg producer, as refered to from this site.

And here's the EverAnime wikipedia entry.

Don't make the same mistakes I made.

Avoid EverAnime (and also SonMay) like a Taliban fighter touring the USA.

Gunslinger Girl Bootlegs in Queensbay

2008-04-21T12:26:00.003+08:00

Gunslinger Girl, as everyone who has experience the discomfort of listening to me talk about anime knows, is my all time favourite must-watch-must-buy anime.

So before we proceed with my latest findings, please visit the wiki. Trust me, you will be referring to it in a while.

Queensbay is home to an anime shop on the same floor as the cinemas, you can't miss it.

Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon the latest season of Gunslinger Girl (Il Teatrino, with all 13 episodes no less!) being sold for not more than RM20.00.

The Japanese television broadcast (on Tokyo MX TV) for the series, as you can read in the wiki, ended on the 31st of March, 2008.

This is an important date, because Japanese broadcasters demand a 90 day monopoly on the anime series being broadcast:

"When we're dealing with a TV series, very often Japanese TV networks...[demand] a 90-day monopoly on that product. From the day that it premieres on whatever TV network in Japan, for the next 90 days, absolutely no one is allowed to show that product anywhere else in the world,"

In essence, this explains why most legal anime you see being sold come in blocks of 3 episodes, as the 90 day limit lapses on each individual episode.

While this is a moronic distribution method, it is absolutely legal.

So unlike the bootleg 13-episodes-in-one-DVD Gunslinger Girl Il Teatrino (with a Gun X Sword logo emblazoned above it for some nefarious reason), this would be what a typical legal DVD box set from Japan would look like.

Of course, I checked this site out to view its legality, and you can read the ratings here.

Though the reviews are rather disparaging, the words "illegal", "piracy", and "bootleg" do not appear.

In conclusion, don't buy any illegal or pirated software. Okay, I know the majority of you folks out there think it's your god-given right to buy cheap VCDs and DVDs.

But the truth is, you can survive without these item, because they are being purchased with DISPOSABLE INCOME. The moral thing to do if you believe the item is overpriced is not to buy it at all. Being a software/web design company employee has made me regret many of the statements and actions I have made regarding pirated software, and I am now striving to rectify these mistakes.

What galls me isn't the prevalence of pirated products, but pirated products being passed off as the real thing... in large national book stores and video outlets. This essentially means consumers don't even have an obvious choice for legal products.

It may be a difficult decision for many, but the choice to purchase pirated products is one of those tiny judgements in life that defines you as a person. For:

Though the soul be single comprehending,
Man is but the sum of things him.

Technically Legal?

2008-04-01T10:27:00.003+08:00

Through hours of web trawling, I have discovered a certain trade agreement known as the Berne Convention.

Apparently, this convention is an agreement that protects the intellectual works of art from theft by unscrupulous individuals. However, this is only the case if both countries are members of the Berne Convention.

Interestingly enough, Taiwan is not a signatory of the convention.

Since I have yet to finish reading the entire document, I can't come to any conclusions yet. But from what I have read, it seems the anime being sold everywhere in Malaysia as original products which are actually imports of bootlegs from Taiwan, may be technically legal because Taiwan is not a signatory to Berne.

Until then, happy reading!

Related Links:
Berne Convention pdf document

The Case of the Cheap Bleach Boxset (aka CBB)

2008-03-27T12:50:00.005+08:00

The case began with a friend of mine, Tommy, showing me a 60 episode boxset of Bleach which was bought for the phenomenal price of RM 59.90.

I had no suspicions of it being illegitimate, seeing as it was bought from Popular, a well known book chain firmly rooted in Malaysia. So I let the issue go.

However, the lousy subtitling brought to mind stories of Hong Kong pirates selling bootlegs of anime as the legitimate thing.

After some time, I posed my suspicions to members of the #Japanator channel on irc.irchighway.net who subsequently answered that the products could not be legal, as bootleg versions of anime sold in their country (the USA) were still more expensive than the allegedly legal ones here.

I finally met the people manning Popular (Gurney Plaza branch) yesterday, on the 27th of March 2008.

Since I carelessly forgot to borrow a recording device of some sort, I will present at least 3 witnesses to the event if anyone should ask for one in a court of law.

I have posted my preliminary findings on the Japanator forum under the thread Too Cheap to be True, so it would be rather repetitive of me even if I rephrased them here.

Anyway, a summary of my findings up to today:

Box sets being sold by anime distributors in Malaysia are crushingly cheap compared to distributors in other countries.
There is at least one confirmed distributor of anime DVDs in Malaysia, Technogram (according to this site, which happens to be a blog), which is the Malaysian branch of Odex, the Singaporean company now suing Internet users who download anime from the web illegally. Since they are suing people downloading anime from the web, and haven't been sued by any Japanese company for wrongful claims of Intellectual Property, the evidence weighs heavily in Odex's favour that it is a legitimate anime distributor.
If however, Animedia Entertainment is a legitimate company, I have no qualms purchasing stuff from them. This is after all, an inquiry into the legitimacy of the product, not an accusation of guilt.

Finis

2008-01-20T17:35:00.000+08:00

New words: Barrette, Enfilade, Oast.

The title is in Latin, and it means boundary or end.

Reality sets in.

It is very common for me to ponder world events, and to fire off comments that are hopefully smart enough to warrant reading. It's easy for me, to just read the various news stories and call each and every one of them an idiot, a moron, a lunatic, an omadhaun, or any other word that is synonymous with useless infidel!

It isn't very healthy, and runs in direct contrast to my personal aspirations to rid myself of negative emotions. As much as I like writing about other people's follies, it has to stop.

This blog has to stop.

I remembered taking a vow to myself not one year ago (I am an atheist, so the only thing I can swear upon is my own honour and conscience), to judge no one but myself.

As the days and months pass, this has become rather hard a demand, as I always have an opinion, mostly one that reduces my target to a ludicrous three-dimensional piece of molecular interaction that happens to speak.

This is not only unhealthy, it is unhelpful.

Enough is enough, and if I must stick to my vow, to judge no one but myself.

There is only one inevitable solution. To stop playing the hypocrite, and start behaving like a grown man. The time for words in an inconsequential blog is over.

I want to change the world, but I can't write change into existence. I must study it, discuss it, work it into existence.

By the end of the day, maybe I will stop hating myself.

Short, Shot, Shoot!

2008-01-13T16:41:00.000+08:00

New words: Prestidigitation, Taproom, Cocksure, Quiff, Brigid, Servile, Rondo, Bollard, Parser, Doeskin, Aslope, Contumacious.

This week on A Stray World:

Oily skins missed;
Not the face! Not the Face!
A. Asohan goes Stray

What's with the goo?
This week has been particularly hectic.
Oil hits $100.
Jon Stewart returns with A Daily Show.

And Malaysia, the second largest producer of palm oil world, ran out of palm oil.

Fascinating. Almost fictional in fact. It's like saying Thailand has ran out of prostitutes, or Kelantan without muftis, or George W. Bush without lies.

Without realising it, we citizens have failed to notice the convenient subsidies on cooking oil quietly nestled in place somewhere in the bowels of this immature democracy. Keen to keep prices low in our favourite char koay teow stalls, proprietors seemed to have caught on to the subsidies placed upon store bought cooking oil.

The larger barrel-like ones woefully forgotten.

Incredible as it seems, people refused to buy anything but cooking oil for the first two days of the apparent oil crisis. Like the geopolitical factions at play for its non-edible distant relative, storekeepers were accused of hoarding attacks were carried out by government officials, and general chaos from media coverage and frustrated oil-dependant citizens brought about a final agreement to raise production.

Alternative to oil-fried food - water.

People are addicted to oil.

Quite fascinating.

Bullet
Datuk S. Krishnasamy. One slug to the head. Close range.

Reading Gunslinger Girl has given me morbid insight into the mind of professional assassins.

The set-up was perfect. Here's my theory.

This mid-ranking member of the MIC was murdered in an MIC branch. Not on the road in some secluded junction. The building would be guarded, and with elections around the corner, very likely to be rather busy with human traffic.

Why take the risk? Why kill him in an elevator in a political building buzzing with pre-election activity?

This implies a political message.

A straight gunshot to the head implies rather obviously, an intent to eliminate, not intimidate the victim.

Since the MIC could easily replace one of their fallen with another mid-ranking representative, it could be postulated that this was a warning.

It would be naive to assume Datuk S Krishnasamy was completely innocent in the entire affair. He was embroiled in some business with some dangerous individuals.

People who aren't afraid of public execution as long as the message is delivered clearly, vividly.

The question now becomes, what is the message?

Stray Thoughts
One of the most senior members of The Star, A. Asohan, whose work I have acquainted myself with since his In Tech days has been awarded a column in the Sunday Star.

I have no hard feelings that he used the phrase above in bold as the name of his column. After all, Stray isn't a patented word.

However, it does make me wonder whether or not I should request a trademark for my blog's name when I move it away from Blogger.

Lovely.

2008-01-06T16:42:00.000+08:00

New words: Headland, Ineluctable, Martinet, Bunco, Gumshoe, Kindling, Ingenue, Simper, Dint, Palaver.

Scandalous? Indeed.

But the study here isn't really about Chua Soi Lek, but the nation as a whole, and why it matters.

The people have Judged

Sex scandals are nothing new. If one were to look back further, a mistress was even considered a symbol of success.

The concubines of Chinese Emperors certainly weren't cheap.

And if our so-called Muslim leaders were to reflect on the Ottoman empire, I am sure they would find no solace in picking upon a man who kept a measly one.

Let's not kid ourselves here.

This is but a private matter gone public. To lose one of our better leaders in such fashion is simply wasteful.

Let's do a quick recap on other crimes that surely deserve or exceed the same measure of public disgust.

Wasteful Spending
Right, so what happened to all those government departments implicated in the Auditor General's sweep? A few low-level, mid-level executives questioned and sacked?

Imagine gallons and gallons of liquid gold spent on such essentials as:

Screwdrivers,
Digital cameras,
Computers,
Pencils, and my personal favourite
Car jacks.

Illegal Logging
After the rape of Nanjing, our leaders probably decided to up the ante and stage:

The Rape of Lojing.

An entire mountain range was given the greatest haircut in Malaysia (Malaysian Book of Records) when a few state government officials decided to sell all the trees to loggers and plant, ostentatiously, ferns.

Yes. Those itsy-bitsy-teeny-greenish-weeds that kids (both human and animal) step-on on their way to the local municipal playground.

The White House
Not suggesting someone would go so far as to build a replica of the symbol of American democracy in Malaysia. Only going so far as to suggest flagrant flaunting of wealth and power.

So what happened to the politician who steamrollered his way to a new house and a satay restaurant sans official approval?

Apart from the now familiar official denial of any wrongdoing ("The architect did it!"), the man with a face thicker than the length of the Great Wall of China decided to invite a few dozen orphan to stay over at his new dig for one night.

Only thing he lost was his eatery, not is job.

Hmm...

Have Sex, Will Tell
This article is in no way meant to defend the good doctor from further jibes. What he did was wrong, if one subscribes to the Koran and Old Testament.

Secular-wise, he broke the unspoken laws of social propriety. Malaysian laws of social propriety.

But when left with two obvious choices, to keep quiet and his job, or to speak and get out, Dr Chua did the unthinkable.

He admitted his mistake, and left government.

That is a remarkable thing, considering Barisan Nasional could just as easily preserve his job by withholding comment anyway.

Alternative Future
Imagine this.

If Dr Chua kept his flap shut and asked press aides to deny everything,
and Badawi spoke of the lack of evidence,
and the press were directed to the greater issue of our floundering education system, flood mitigation tactics, the Royal Commission, and other more pressing issues,
Dr Chua Soi Lek would remain Health Minister.

Politics Screws the Bold
He had no charisma, but Dr Chua was a reassuring figure.

In a country that officially denies the existence of gays, lesbians, transvestites, transsexuals, bisexuals and any other word ending with -sexual, he pushed for the use of condoms; the distribution of condoms.

Whatever his fallacies, it would be prudent to note: Dr Chua's mistake did not cost the nation taxpayer money, or taxpayer time (though we all know that's not really high up on any agenda here).

I don't believe the same fingers now pointed at him can claim the same.

Honestly?

2007-12-30T23:54:00.000+08:00

What is honesty?
A faint concept of truth. Truth interpreted through ones mind in a fashion so vivid, it becomes seething, icy pain.

Honesty is a curse. It pains us to hold it all in. Completely subservient to the needs of the conscience. Honesty, nay! TRUTH! That's what I meant!

The truth is what pains us. TRUTH is the curse. It lies beneath our skin, seeking release. Yet we hold it in, despite the pain. Because we believe that greater pain will come if TRUTH is released from its living cage.

The conduit of TRUTH, is HONESTY.

Honesty invites greater pain. But does that matter if the soul is cleansed of pain?

Then, and only then, we ask... Why should we fear pain?

Good people. Another arbitrary orbit around the yellow star that we know as the Life-Giver will soon pass. It is a wonder our entire lives are planned by it.

Even the thundering wildebeests heed the waning light for the countless orbits around the Life-Giver.

Without knowing. Without questioning.

And so we mark the end of the year as the end of another chapter of our short lives.

This is a time of reflection. Though time for reflection may be found throughout the year. This is a special moment of reflection.

For some, it marks the beginning of a new chapter. For others, it means another year to waste. For the courageous, new battles await.

For the honourable, it means more time to resume the Noble Purpose.

A force that drives us from within. Unnameable. Unfathomable. Unexplainable (but many enigmatic souls have tried).

Burst into torrid cynicism if you want about this post. I know I am not a smart man.

I don't want to be smart.

I am only smart enough, to aspire to be wise.

And here is proof I am an idiot.
Sixteen (16) roti canais in one go with four friends. The fourth guy didn't want to be remembered in this fashion by his grandchildren.

He still ate with us.

To Fill the Banks

2007-12-23T16:04:00.000+08:00

New words: Subedit, Teasel, Repine, Bumptious, Plaice, Slake,Verisimilitude, Stucco, Asinine, Liszt.

I respectfully bequest thy forgiveness, for thou hast been betrayed. Tardiness is inexcusable and I seek the most severest of punishment thou may dream of.

Seriously, I have been quite busy. With the affairs at my tech company at full steam (after a hibernation period long enough to remove Harith Iskandar's barrel of oil), and the inevitable cleanup of my room which has become a top rated 5 star hotel for rats and roaches after the disaster known as the STPM, I find myself starved of time to read my 60 or so e-mails... Let alone blog.

But you aren't here to hear my wimpers about my life... You are here because you are bored out of your mind and someone pushed you with a hot rod up your arse to this site.

I sincerely thank you.

Now, onwards Brother.

Flooding Everywhere as Planned
Last week, A Stray World sent a bunch of my new minions into the new Inbound-Oceans of Malaysia (trademark pending).

Of the six, one was killed by drinking too much bottled water.

The second was killed by irate villagers when he used up the flooded towns only source of energy while charging his laptop to play Warcraft.

The third was dismissed after he began eating the two dead journalists with mayonnaise. The company simply cannot afford to subsidise unhealthy condiments.

The fourth quit to protest the dismissal.

The fifth killed the sixth to claim the cash bounty I offered.

Finally, I had to terminate her because she still watches Survivor.

So of I went alone. Trudging through mudflats and rivers to some flooded village in East Malaysia.

The sight, as usual, was depressing. No open mamak stalls! What a travesty. A few villagers offered me their services for cash, but I declined as the authorities have advised about talking frankly and truthfully with the public.

Not more than six hundred kilometres away, I was warmly greeted by the grossly overpaid nephew of the local state assemblyman at his dry and cosy villa. "This way tuan," ushered the tuxedo toting youth.

With a genuine smile, the assemblyman, Mr Lam Bhat Dah, shook my hands and drew out a wooden chair adorned with ancestral carvings. "So, have you done it?"

"Yeah. I have visited the villagers."

"And?"

"And they pointed me this way."

"Don't joke around. What did you get?"

"I got athlete's foot from trudging though all that water. But don't worry, I don't think you are at any risk."

"Look here!" One finger on my chest, Mr Lam breathing heavily. "Have you delivered the posters?"

"Yes, I can see there is a leech attached to my chest! But what does that have to do with delivering posters for you."

"The general election of course! This is the only real chance I get to show people I actually give a damn!"

""What about actually preventing these floods from occurring in the first place? Wouldn't that show people you care?"

"Of course not. Who the hell remembers which minister forbidding hillside development, illegal logging, and restrictions on riverside developments? The rakyat only remembers the ministers who visit flood victims, fire victims, and heart-transplant patients."

"Are you saying these floods were preventable?"

"Of course they were. Let me tell you something. There are no such things as natural disasters. Only environmental hazards. What we are doing has everything to do with deliberate manipulation of environmental hazards so they may become what we call 'natural disasters'. After that, we can make sweeping proclamations that we are the only people capable of preventing natural disasters."

"Very smart. Thank you Mr Lam. I have delivered your posters, but I think the post office won't deliver the parcels unless you pay them extra. You know, floods and all. Bye"

----------------
Now playing: Yui Horie - LIFE (PV Rip)
via FoxyTunes unhealthy condiments.

Rallying or Railing?

2007-12-15T16:52:00.000+08:00

New words: Plainspoken, Erne, Lea, Cuckold, Busker, Spackle, Esparto, Mendacious, Frisson, Perchance, Sloop.

Foreword: As promised, here is the last of this weeks articles. Due to time constraints (I have been attending band practices so I may enter the annual Battle of the Bands competition... For the very last time), I will combine the two Bersih and Hindraf protests and others of the same ilk into a single article.

March of the Lawyers
A few months ago, lawyers took to the streets of Kuala Lumpur to demand justice. Consequently, hell froze over (but a quick injection of American-bought Saudi-fossil-fuel kick-started the soul torturing furnace once more).

This all boiled down to a very simple issue of judicial impartiality, or rather, lack of.

I don't need to state the seriousness of this issue. Without impartiality in the Judiciary, we are at the mercy of an unchecked and unbridled Executive. Until 1988, the Judiciary was among the most respectable institutions of its kind in the region.

Now, it is not only vulnerable, it is corruptible.

However, our good friend in Parliament, MP Nazri Aziz has saw fit to not only condemn the actions of the Bar, but to obfuscate its true purpose by claiming Opposition aping.

The true purpose of any rally is to show a united face, especially when facing an enemy whose position in power would prevent any other (legal) means of meaningful protest.

Bersih
Not all marches are altruistic in nature.

And so, we have the Opposition linked Bersih, which is calling for free and fair elections.

So they gather all these people to demand:

Use of indelible ink in future elections;
Clean-up of Registered Voters Roll;
Abolition of postal votes;
Access to the Government controlled print and broadcast media for Opposition Parties.

The first of their demands has been met. In truth, indelible ink as an issue was already non-existent (2nd June 2007) by the time the fine folks marched for it (10th November 2007).

The second demand, quite reasonable. But evidence of such acts have amounted to nothing more than rumours, wild claims, and speculation. Unless the Opposition acquires solid evidence (like the now infamous lawyer video), they won't be doing much except perhaps embarrassing themselves.

The third demand is ridiculous, plain and simple. If, as they claimed, the bosses of civil servants overseas would browbeat their subordinates to vote in a certain fashion, the Opposition should be making a claim of infringement of the Constitution.

They should be demanding a permanent solution to this problem that won't allow any government-paid civil servant to force his subordinates to essentially, vote to keep him in power.

Under Article 5 of the Malaysian Constitution,

No person shall be deprived of his life or personal liberty save in accordance with law.

Voting for the political party of your choice is a form of liberty. It can thus be argued, that a loss of free will in voting would amount to gross infringement of this clause in the Constitution.

And Article 6:

No person shall be held in slavery.

I admit, I may be pushing the clauses of the Constitution to the limit here, but as I recall, slaves weren't allowed to vote.

Every citizen deserves a right to vote. It should never be rescinded in such fashion. And because of the way the Opposition has put forth such argument, their motives are suspect to say the least.

Hindraf
Now we descend to the ludicrous. But ludicrous with a caveat.

So we got this group of ethnic Indians, see? Demanding in a nutshell, for the Queen of England and Great Britain, to appoint a Queen's Counsel, to sue Her Royal Highness, the Queen of England, for bringing indentured Indians into Malaysia.

Now, anyone would be quick to dismiss this as pure naivety. Who the hell would pay anyone to sue themselves? Particularly with the added claims of ethnic cleansing.

But who is reporting the news? The Malaysian media. And they aren't being very impartial about it.

Three policemen wounded.
Demonstrations turn violent.
Temples damaged.

Okay. Firstly, you can never ever claim widespread violence if only THREE people have been hurt. What about the figures for the protesters?

The government even claims the violence began on the protesters side, forcing them to disperse the crowd with tear gas and water cannons. This may be true, however, the circumstances of the report on TV3 news would suggest government forces acted first, when they reported police forces were "forced" into using water cannons and tear gas to "disperse" the intransigent crowd.

Read between the lines, brothers and sisters.

And the temples in Batu Caves were not damaged.

Until I researched this story myself online, I did not even realise the amount of obfuscation employed by the government to gag the media and pull a fast one over the public.

However, my opinion still stands: Hindraf as an institution for justice in ludicrous.

It is borderline terrorist in its claims. Ethnic cleansing? Do they even know its definition?

What happened was simply a happy confluence of greed (Hindraf promised RM1mil settlements to every individual who signed up), ignorance, and frustration.

The two latter factors though, are the result of one man:
Sami Vellu.

He is the old man of politics, and therefore, has loss touch with the new generation of Indian voters.

Indians are like any people, they have diverse views on a myriad of subjects. Unfortunately, their views cannot be expressed as long as that man remains in power in the MIC.

Which is why we now see a general mushrooming of Indian based parties.

Racial politics is negative politics. It dilutes the strength of a community.

Racial politics coupled with differing ideologies further divides. Eventually, any form of power accumulated amounts to a teacup of salt collected from a jug of seawater.

This is the caveat. Frustration, not reason, brought the majority of Indians to march with Hindraf.

Without a genuine outlet to voice their concerns, which include education, religion, human rights, and such, people, not only Indians will gladly accept any opportunity to stick it to the man.

March To the Streets!
To resolve these so called "un-Malaysian" behaviour, one must first realise demonstrations are in our blood. The pre-independence marches for one brought about change in government.

Like it or not, the British colonial masters were legitimate leaders of then Malaya. Ah, the power of treaties...

So one could argue without pro-independence marches, and by going through the slow bureaucratic Colonial masters, we would still be working under the Union Jack today.

These are the permanent ways to resolve the issue of "illegal" gatherings as I see it:

Education on the rights of citizens to march, how to march, and why people march;
ACCEPTANCE by the government that democracy means Freedom of Expression;
Maturity on the part of the citizens regarding the state of affairs of their respective communities. Do these people who claim to have been subjected to immense bias have ulterior motives to their actions?
Maturity on the part of the people that at the end of the day, globalization will eventually bring racial politics to an end. We should not focus on differences in genealogy and skin tone. But in opinion.

Until then, enjoy your roti canais before they too become a source of political controversy.
----------------
Now playing: Delgados - The Light Before We Land
via FoxyTunes

LIVE FROM somewhere, ITS A STRAY WORLD

2007-12-10T16:58:00.000+08:00

New Words: Lisle, Gratis, Curacao, Errata, Comport, Cheapjacks, Corrigenda.

Returning to our weekly schedule, your very own unknown reporter lost in a sandstorm of blogs, A Stray World.

Because of my now relatively free weekday evenings, I shall divide the blog posts of the week into three separate postings.

So, a quick recap of the most prominent events (of the real variety) which decided to happen while I was spending less time blogging.

Cosmonaut from Malaysia;
BERSIH parade;
HINDRAF march.

The Angkasawan (technically cosmonaut)

A long, long time ago, Malaysians would gaze into space and wonder...

How much money would they need to fork out to purchase sky-torching fireworks from the black market?

Then they would wonder: "How many rockets would meet their spectacular demise in the heavens before the local neighbour calls the police?"

Now, Malaysians can finally look into the sky and wonder: "How many inferior Russian jets must we buy before we get another free ride into space?"

Then after hearing our wise leaders praise the cosmonaut we have sent into space as the greatest achievement since we sent a delegation to London to demand independence - Malaysians wonder: "Who the hell are they kidding?"

First of all, I wish to point out I am a great supporter of this "Malaysian" space programme. There is only so much newspapers, magazines, television, the Internet, word-of-mouth, radio, teachers and scientists can do to promote the study of cosmic science to the Akademi Fantasia/American Idol/Amazing Race/One in a Million/Love Perhaps?/Deal or no Deal crazed lunatics who make up the majority of our nation's youth.

Spend a few billion ringgit on Russian jets we can't even pronounce without thinking of Stalin, then launching a Malaysian into space for a once in a subprime mortgage crisis lifetime, and suddenly, the whole of Malaysia is abuzz with talks on solar storms and Soyuz.

Too bad that was only confined to the people who could look beyond the religious/racial/nationalistic political bigotry connotations of the entire fiasco.

Firstly, the event itself was heavily promoted.

"A Malaysian First!"

"Congratulations!"

"We have reached the stars!"

There is a (officially unrecognised) term known as overhyping. Hyping the benefits of the space programme alone in a non-descript purely scientific method of nation building would have been enough. But the government, wanting to justify the huge expenditure in taxpayer money, decided to turn this into a full blown Malaysian campaign for galactic presidency.

As a result, this turned the entire noble endeavour into nothing less than a political farce. Everything is always clearer in hindsight, which is to say the government has played its cards right, though it was oh so wrong.

By calling this a national project, they are saying it's a Malaysian project = Malay project.

Anyone who would dare speak out would be called a traitor. An unpatriotic turd who should move to America. Someone who doesn't understand the social contract laid down by our forefathers. That should shut the flap of the moderates who only want fair debate.

Unfortunately, the debate works in a God/Agnostic fashion.

Agnostic: I don't believe there is a god, because I don't see the evidence.
Priest: God is present everywhere. But you must believe in Him to see Him.
Agnostic: That's a Catch-22 situation mate.

Eventually, we reach this period of complete apathy, where the beloved people have forgotten the entire issue.

Come on! You should have seen this coming!

Do you still recall the High Performance Centre fiasco. Thank goodness those Londeners know better than to let Malaysians build something on their land.

They would probably attempt to bribe the local officials to fast-track the Environmental Impact Assessment, which would result in an elaborate cover-up, which will eventually stick out like rotten fish among cream cheese when the Thames becomes the largest sewage dump in Great Britain, and bring about a long and unnecessary diplomatic row between Malaysia and Great Britain.

So while I still support the Malaysian cosmonaut, let's take a step back, analyse the issue, cease this perfectly embarrassing "angkasawan" branding blitz, and start our real pursuit to reach the heavens.

----------------
Now playing: Hirano Aya - Lost My Music
via FoxyTunes

Post 70

2007-09-02T16:32:00.000+08:00

New Words: Commode, Clapboard, Waist coat, Bustier top, Tot, Footbridge, Pall, Tattle, Toxophilite, Cooper.

A minor problem here.

More like a distraction from the serious work.

The STPM is almost here, and thus I need to take a three month break from cyberspace to concentrate (or at least, spend more time) on my studies.

The phrase "meaningless work" doesn't ring any truer than the past few days, where I am expected to work really hard to memorise stuff I presume would be of no help to me later in life.

However, there is no use griping about it now. Because I have already come this far.

Let's end it.

Merdeka 50

2007-08-26T14:14:00.000+08:00

New Words: Thaumaturge, Timorous, Toroidal, Aril.

The big five-oh. For some women, a valid excuse to increase ones age by three to five years. After all, a middle age crisis is something most people would rather avoid.

In this case, it's to act as if we have been there and done that. Thus, rendering the event insignificant.

Now, to business.

You folks know how this blog works. I pen my thoughts through news items twisted into a slightly funnier form. Unfortunately, like every episode of Extras, this means we are actually amused by the most horrible of crimes. From the rape of the rainforests, to the cutting down of women's and children's rights, it is a wonder people would approve of my method of public discourse.

By approve you did. And I do wonder if that's a good thing.

This week, we will celebrate 50 years of nationhood.

For a very long time, I have been doing nothing else on this blog but write about the bad things that go on around us, and frankly, it is getting rather depressing. So this time, for this year's Merdeka entry, I will highlight the good things in our country.

Although some of them may not actually be a good thing, like Mahathir returning to politics, they have turned out otherwise.

Yasmin Ahmad
Quite possibly the best thing to happen to Malaysian media after P. Ramlee.

It was quite subtle. First we got those wonderful Petronas commercials, which weren't really commercials. Watching them at the right time would send chills down my spine, and even bring me to the point of tears.

Even after half a dozen years, they are still being aired on television. Five minute commercials that do more for uniting us than a five hour press conference by Barisan National politicians.

I have enjoyed two of her films to date, Sepet and Gubra.

For all I know, I could be the only guy in school to watch both movies. Which is a real pity.

Freedom of Speech
Think about it. We do actually have a greater advantage than the Americans when it comes to free speech.

Due to several sweeping laws, the US government now has the almost God-like powers to check e-mail, tap phone lines and other methods of communications throughout the country without needing to get the tiresome but necessary court order.

And let us not forget, the US government brandishes the word "Unpatriotic" like garlic before a horde of vampires if anyone should protest.

Here in Malaysia, we can count of our inept and lazy enforcers to sip kopi-o and talk about moving their fat arses off the mamak stall into the streets to haul in some poor soul who wrote Allah and bomb in the same sentence.

Unless you do something seriously brainless, like say, singing a rap song to the mashup of Negaraku with your face on display without bothering to apply makeup - you are safe to express whatever you want.without fear of public lynching.

Because, the guys you are so willing to punch out, aren't exactly too thrilled about their positions either.

Fashion Free
Unlike some place like Paris for instance. We don't need to bother about our dressing. Anything goes in Malaysia, in fact, my mum wears her hand-sewn clothes to work.

Granted, not captivating enough.

How about walking into a posh restaurant in generic t-shits and shorts (and slippers) to order beef steak.
Sure, some places don't allow certain kind of clothing. Particularly if you are female and have two large brains. But overall, you can get away with clothing skimpier than a Gwen Stefani costume at a Malaysian concert.

Food
Enough said.

Happy 50.
----------------
Now playing: Giovanni Mirabassi - Le Chante Pour Passer Le Temps
via FoxyTunes

Corroded Baby

2007-08-20T15:07:00.000+08:00

New Words: Kvetch, Bunting, Orrery, Apotheosis, Emmenagogue, Chevon, Cabrito, Capretto.

This week on A Stray World:

Proton Persona Revealed, Best Designs Withdrawn;
Student Rapper Apologizes, Government Declares Victory Over Internet.

The New Car
Unveiling a new model is always a testy affair, as the folks of Proton know really well. Since their revolutionary Gen.2, which has contributed to the success of the company in generating operational losses, the overpaid car designers at Proton have unveiled their most daring take on car design yet, the Persona.

Here's the lowdown of what you could have expected from the people at Proton:

Firstly, the Persona will be the first ever car in the history of Proton to be marginally more comfortable than a bull-carriage with straw padding. After years of annoying user comments, the engineers have finally consented to improving the vehicle's handling so the process of talking on the cellphone with one hand on the wheel while calming the children in the back-seat will now be an easy matter of turning one's attention to the redesigned front seats and fabric-lined door panels. Apparently, internal studies have concluded that listening to user comments about the unattractive design may result in better customer feedback.

Secondly, the Persona was the first ever national car to have an onboard ion engine. This next-next generation system of powering Persona offers the cleanest method possible to wean us off Middle-Eastern oil. Unfortunately, the instant explosion of an engineer who was working on the exhaust pipe caused Proton to revert to the hybrid engine VW lent them for trial purposes. A second mishap however, involving the appointment of inept and short-sighted management, caused the company to reel in this slightly less polluting design as well. This means the new Proton will be running on fossil-fuel until further notice.

Thirdly, the Persona will be the safest drivable Proton car to date. Unlike the cardboard reinforced bamboo paper Wira it will be replacing, the Persona comes armoured in basic aluminium and steel. Making it utterly outstanding in its consistent approach to boring and dead design. While global competitors are exploring space-age material such as lightweight carbon-fibre and nanotech-powered paint, Proton has decided to stay relatively traditional to appeal to Malaysian drivers (their core customers) who enjoy risking their lives and the lives of those fortunate enough to share the experience with them.

Finally, the Persona is only the tip of the proverbial landmines of future Proton cars. Once you step on the accelerator, there is no turning back. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the explosive force that will send you through the viewscreen like manure dipped into liquid nitrogen when you realise the breaks aren't all they are made up to be.

The Apology of the Parody Blogger
The young man who was stupid enough to show his face while singing an ode the the nation to the tune of Negaraku has apologised for the uproar he caused, bringing an end to what could have been a dangerously meaningful debate on corruption in the police force and the relevance of racial policies that mean zilch in the age of globalization.

"Ha, ha. We win," said Mr. P, a government official as he raised his fist in celebration. "This is not just a victory for racial sensitivities, but also for freedom of censorship and power over the Internet, which until this week, was said to be greater than that of the government."

"We have shown them whose the boss. Next item, which really is the previous item, political blogs."

While the optimistic official contemplates whether to break a religious taboo in front of a blogging reporter, I kindly reminded him the video can still be found on many other sites on the web.

"So what. We will shut them down too," said he, even though that's technically impossible as what gets attention on the net, stays on the net. Besides, the new purveyors of the video are smart enough to conceal their identities.

"So what? We will just shut down the Internat," said he, before tucking into a sumptuous meal paid bought using public funds taxed from the people. Steadfastly ignoring any further questions.
----------------
Now playing: Steve Conte - Nowhere and Everywhere
via FoxyTunes

Immeasurable Sympathy

2007-08-12T16:56:00.000+08:00

New words: Endogenous, Exogenous, Diegetic, Harangue, Pantheism.

This week on A Stray World:

1300 Penang Taxis Strike, Public Stunned by Non-news

Earlier this week, the Penang Federation of Taxi Drivers Association (PFTDA) went on a short lived strike to protest against what they deemed to be unfair harassment from the big men in big suits.

About 1300 cab drivers from the PFTDA showed undying loyalty to the manifestation of the phenomenon which will forever live on as "The Totally Meaningless & Forgettable Day without Penang Cabs". This brotherly loyalty can still be observed today in the taxi driver's staunch stance against taxi metres.

Unfortunately, their efforts and undying love for one another has been in vain, for the majority of the public have completely ignored this event.

"These stupid people and their stupid rules!" Ah Rod bellows, proud cab driver and member of the Taxi Association of Penang Against the Meter (Tax-AssPAiM). "We don't want your stupid rules saying we have use meters and where proper uniforms."

"I own this ruby-red jewel of god," he says, pointing towards a recently repainted Proton Saga. A much celebrated antique model from 1990. "It is my right to wear what I want and to charge as I please for this is MY CAR!"

"Now what do the public know about our plight? Here we are eking out a living by driving you to your destinations in our cars and you have the gall to tell us how we should ask you to pay up and what we should wear?"

"After suffering for so long, we finally organized a strike to tell everyone we won't take this anymore. YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

"And what do the public do? They have the bloody nerve to take the bus or carpool to work! We had to end our strike after one day because the public would not support us."

Among the reasons sited for the lack of public support were the absolute non-commitment of commuters to take an unpaid leave to share drinks with taxi drivers at nasi lemak stalls, and ungrateful media reporters who have forgotten the numerous times cab drivers have been asked to "Follow that car!".

A city official though, begs to differ.

"This shows the people are undeniably apathetic towards taxi drivers in Penang," states Encik Some Sudu In. "If they were dependent upon taxis for daily commute, we wouldn't be seeing the great rise in the number of personal transport. And more tellingly, we would have received hundreds of thousands of emails other than spam calling us insensitive pigs for harming the innocent, ever client friendly taxi driver."

These are what some had to say about the strike:

MT, student: "My neighbour is a taxi driver. I don't like him. So I keyed his car while he was on strike."

Veronica, tourist: "I only trust Bali taxis. So I made my boss buy me a car while I was on holiday."

Kim, office clerk: "I usually avoid taxis for no other reason other then my intense dislike of them."

Wong, retired: "I have nothing to do, so sometimes I go into a cab and pretend I am a tourist out to kill someone. The cab drivers will always drop me of halfway without demanding pay. I must admit, one day without blowing their minds is quite intolerable and I hope they don't do it again.

----------------
Now playing: SNoW - NightmaRe (final mix)
via FoxyTunes

Sphere of Nadir

2007-08-05T16:48:00.000+08:00

New words: Plamp, Gewgaw, Gimcrack, Pareo, Bandeau.

This week on, A Stray World,

Malaysians inspired by Iraqi win, plans to commit acts of terror.

This month has seen its fair share of Malaysian sportsmen achieving their fair share of worldly recognition. From Nicol David and her recent double win in less than two weeks, to the abysmal performance of the Malaysian football squad, to the little known Ibrahim bin Amir who progressed to the finals of the Asian 9-Ball tour.

In all the clamour for ratings and attention, it is very apparent that the Malaysian football team wishes to draw as little attention to itself as possible. That will soon change if a group of patriotic students get their way.

"We are going to blow up Parliament," said the spokeswoman for the Death for Football Soccer Club. Clad in a full length burqa and face veil, she juggles what looks like a packet of plastic explosives wrapped in newspaper clippings of fan mail to the Malaysian football team.

"So unambitious," said the man to her right, identified as a nobody insurance salesman. "I am going to destroy Bukit Jalil Stadium. That's sure to make an impact."

You are probably wondering why these mediocre examples of successful Malaysians are planning acts of terror.

"We are great supporters of the Malaysian football team. All my life, I have been a supporter of Penang. I have never watched an English Premiership match and I have never donned the colours of any foreign football club t-shirt," said the burqa clad spokeswoman. "So it was a gut wrenching experience watching our national squad fall to pieces during the Asian Cup. But the good news was, Iraq won the damn tournament!"

"That gave us ideas. Since the Malaysian government is totally useless in building a proper football team, we, the people of Malaysia, will take up arms, like the Iraqis, to build our own brand of tough-as-nails, never-say-die football players."

"We have everything planned out. First, we will destroy or attempt to destroy every single prominent building or structure in Malaysia. Then, suicide bombers will blow themselves up every day at densely populated areas."

"Then, we will plant explosives in the fields of every single stadium in every state. Hopefully, this will result in the dismemberment of the entire football management which will result in extreme chaos that will, with the grace of god, plunge the country into a pseudo-nuclear holocaust."

"Our talented football players will then, have no choice but to pack their bags and ply their trade in other countries like Indonesia, Vietnam, and Thailand. I am sure they will be treated with the minimal respect and dignity United Nations certified asylum seekers expect in this country."

"While we continue our patriotic acts of terror in the Peninsula, our foreign based football players will have garnered enough skill and experienced enough hardship to finally unite as a team for regular training sessions under a foreign coach in Thailand."

"By then, whether they like it or not, they will become the shining beacon of a civil-war torn country. Their every action will be heavily scrutinized, and every win punctuated by deadly gunfire into the heavens."

"Then, they will go on to win the World Cup, which will unite the entire country under the banner of peace through sports."

"Hopefully, I will be able to shed tears of joy when we finally win the coveted trophy four years after we begin our campaign of patriotic destruction."
----------------
Now playing: LAST ALLIANCE - Shissou
via FoxyTunes

Tainted Redemption

2007-07-29T16:25:00.000+08:00

New Words: Corral, Codger, Nacreous, Gusset, Univoltiine, Edaphic, Fasciculation.

This week on A Stray World...

It wasn't even a particularly interesting subject, but the school people brought in some people from the SPCA. Little fluffy balls of cuteness interspersed with pictures of diseased dogs with cigarette burns.

I was drawn to a crowd of my fellow classmates, around a blown-up picture of a cat with its intestines leaking from its tummy. Its eyes, stretched to thin lines of pain. Though I felt something like horror, I wanted to take a closer look, and pushed myself further into the crowd.

Through collective exclamations of disgust and laughter, I picked out Fry's voice, a nickname he earned from his slick, greasy way with people.

For some unknown reason, he waded through the crowd and shoved me in the chest, saying I was too young for this. He was barely two months my senior!

I was angry, and justifiably so. Why should I stand in a corner when everyone else was tracing the length of the intestine with their oily fingers?

More students were filing into the cramped hall, and our class had to leave. Filled with rage, I ran all the way back to class, or wanted too, but was once again stopped by Fry.

I can only speculate it was for his own amusement, but he had leapt onto my bicycle parked outside the classroom of my little brother. He gestured at me with a mischievous grin.

Rage unlike any other poured forth into my 10-year-old body, imbuing me with the strength to grab the bully by the throat before he could even raise his hands. Everything happened in slow motion, and I was rendered into an impartial observer, while my body acted on its own accord. Dancing to the pulsating melodies of hormones and unbridled emotion.

I pushed him into the glass windows, and the glass cracked. “Not like Jackie Chan.” I remember thinking. The bicycle fell under him and I stumbled.

The element of surprise though, was gone. And Fry, larger and taller than me, effortlessly shoved me onto the ground.

When my back hit the ground, it felt as if someone had shone a high-intensity light-bulb into my face while I was dreaming. Momentarily stunned and fearful.

Knowing what Fry would do, no longer as angry, but nearly as frightened, I kick my fallen bicycle and some part of it caught his oncoming foot. He stumbled and fell.

I got up, ready to run, or fight. But Fry didn't get up.

Cautiously, I moved over to the the red pool growing from the steady drips coming from the bicycle's handlebars.

Someone grabbed me from behind, strong hands wrapped around my body, locking my arms to my side. It was Black Man, my favourite teacher in the entire school. His face was grim, and his eyes looked not at his captor, but at the three or four teachers gathered around Fry.

I heard the words “hospital”, “dead”, and “eye”. Three words that built into a mountain of ice squeezed into a lead weight that now resided in my stomach.

I wanted to say “Sorry”. I couldn't.

Black Man picked me up like a helium balloon and we went to the principal's office.

Again, I wanted to say sorry, but another voice took over. It screamed and yelled my innocence.

“He started it teacher!”

“He sat on my bike!”

“Teacher, he wouldn't let me look at the pictures!”

They ring hollow now.

10 was too young an age for me to understand mandatory death. I asked my father on the way to court what mandatory meant. He didn't reply. Instead, he started reading aloud an Enid Blyton storybook. My mother, who sat beside me, looked out of the police van's window thoughtfully. Her hands rubbing my back in loving, concentric circles.

It was not deliberate, but unintentionally, they were telling me I would be alone.

That was twelve years ago. Then, I could barely reach the keyhole of my cell. Now, I can touch the black ceiling of my cramped prison quarters.

Apart from the prison wardens who sometimes double as my teachers, my parents were my only visitors, and nearly my only correspondence.

I once received a letter from Fry's mother. She cursed me and wished me dead. The words described the many levels of hell I would visit for taking away her son. One of them was to be killed the same way I had killed Fry, with the pointed handlebars of my bike jammed into the right eye. But repeated, again and again, for 100 years.

When I showed that letter to my parents when they visited me in prison, they asked the prison wardens to screen all letters (except theirs) addressed to me. And that was how I lost my childhood friends; at least, the remaining ones who had not taken to heart my former teachers' description of me being a naughty, bad boy.

I was still 10 years old then.

I can't really say I am a changed man. Perhaps I am. Because I am incapable of becoming angry at anyone anymore. No. Maybe it's because I am afraid of becoming angry.

Every night except for a few dreamless nights, I would find myself facing Fry, outside my little brother's classroom, with that mischievous grin.

And every night, I would say sorry, and walk away to another sunless morning. Knowing he would be back tomorrow night.

I want to die. But Mr Raj, my prison mentor, said I had to live. To live so I may do good and be forgiven by the gods.

When my shadow finally left the sprawling fortress of silence after twelve, I find myself not living to be pardoned by the gods, but hoping for the late reply from Fry's mother to my letter, sent when I was 10-years-old:

“I am sorry I killed Fry. Please forgive me, I want to go home.”

World Music Festival 2007

2007-07-23T17:37:00.001+08:00

New Words: Mediumism, Aspidistra

A bit late, but this week on A Stray World, a very special weekend report.

Friday
I have never before had the opportunity to witness first-hand, world music. For years, I have had to be content with listening to remixed tribal music, African chants, and other healthy examples of culture rape on television. The most authentic world music Astro can manage are squeeze into Discovery Channel and the National Geographic Channel.

For example, Mongolian throat singers on Discovery Travel and Living,

But on Friday, I finally got my big break. The musicians were coming to Penang. From the fiddlers of Portland, Oregan, to the talking drums of Burkina Faso, they all came for one big all night party! To spread the music and show everyone that commercially manufactured factory idols are not the only dominant voice of sound today.

I was there by more or less 1800 hours, Quarry Gardens. It didn't take long to find the prime seats, a row of raised rubble held into a rectangular train by cement had an opening in the middle; right smack in between the two stages. As it was being held in an outdoor park, with all the inanities of Malaysian caprice, good seats were hard to come by; so it was rather surprising that no one else had filled those seats.

There were very few people around, which made me wonder whether reports of the four thousand sold tickets were merely rumours to generate hype for Visit Malaysia 2007. The sudden light drizzle drove those thoughts away, as umbrellas mushroomed from the fields.

There I stayed, watching time shoot past the scheduled opening act, which would not come until 1930 hours. One hour late.

I wouldn't patronise them by saying it was worth the wait and wetness. However, there was much one could find charming about Darsa, the East Malaysian aborigines with their unique dulcets, screams, and bird calls accompanied by traditional instruments that brought one closer to the forest and sea that they called home.

Then, before the appreciative applause died down, strange deep husky voices reverberated throughout the field. There they were, on Stage 2! The unexpected appearance of throat-singers from Tuva! The printing mistakes in the schedules were soon forgotten as the four throat-singers began their strange, alien song. Closing my eyes, I could see their voices were telling of the land of yellow grass plains, that would melt away into snow, white and warm. Then plunge into a ravine, walls of rushing water on both sides cascading into a wide river that began nowhere and ended nowhere.

I considered that my ticket price redeemed.

More goodies were to come, the energetic Solomon Island pan-pipers had arrived. They dance and played gigantic bamboo panpipes. With pulsating drums, spirited dancing, and enthusiastic singing, they started to snip loose the threads of inhibition holding the crowd from joining the festivities.

The catchy fast paced music and driven performance soon had the crowd on their feet. And with a dozen half naked dudes on stage strutting their muscular legs and tone biceps, the more party-ready portions of the audience soon made their way up front to participate in some tribal dancing.

The momentum was however, cut short by the next performance, Malay Drums. While it was an admirable performance, with an impressive demonstration of circular breathing by the serunai maestro, it was a bit of a let-down, as the crowd was quite prepared to do some much needed square-dancing to forget the drizzle that was fast becoming a storm.

Americans to the rescue! Hailing from Portland, Oregan, (now on Stage 1)the Foghorn Stringband! A mixture of Midwest, Appalachian mountain music and Bluegrass, their quick fiddling, typical spirited playing soon got the party started. Shedding all inhibitions, everyone started dancing in the rain. Everyone but those who had good seats, like me.

It didn't matter that the Americans used up a lot more time than was necessary (at close to 40 minutes), the crowd were lapping up every moment, constantly asking for more. The repetitive tunes were little to no difference from one tune to the other was however, getting on my nerves.

With a final slash of the violin, we finally left America for Italy. They kept saying Palermo, so I will hazard the Tammorra Special were from that said province on Italy as well. They kick-started the event with two HUMUNGOUS tambourines; each almost as large as the Italians playing them. I have developed quite a liking for Italian music, so it wasn't with great effort that I found myself clapping to the music.

Meanwhile, the crowd of dance addicts had made their way to Stage 2.

Unexpectedly, one of the Italians came forward with a single tambourine – a normal sized one – and began playing a TAMBOURINE SOLO! The way his hands danced around the instrument elevated the folk music status of the membranous device to the epitome of musical godhood. He made the tambourine look, and sound, cool!

Too bad they had to cut short their performance. But it was getting rather late. I can only find fault with the organizers who had started the event one hour late. The logic was understandable. Malaysians, known for inveterate procrastination, would only arrive some hours later than what was decided.

True enough, Quarry gardens was soon choke full of bipeds, some time around 2100 hours.

That didn't matter anymore, the final denouement was at hand. From Burkina Faso – Farafina!

Two gigantic xylophones that weren't xylophones, talking drums, and an assortment of other exotic instruments began to cry their ecstatic beats with melodious violence. Two of the six members, a man who did most of the speaking and singing, and a woman, playing African instruments and dancing with the frenzy of a hurricane played to the crowd.

It was a mad rush to midnight, and whatever reservations I had about missing The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya were soon overpowered by a group of black girls screaming Africa behind me.

Soon, all too soon. It was over. The end of a great party, sans disco music.

Power to the People

2007-07-15T16:07:00.000+08:00

New Words: Lexeme, Ersatz, Discombobulate, Gutty, Moxie, Inveterate, Orgiastic, Abnegation, Opprobrium, Trollop.

This week on A Stray World,

I, Rewarp, offer you, the reader, the once in a lifetime opportunity to change the course of my life for the foreseeable two years.

I have recently come into a small fortune of RM500.00 and would love to spend it on something worthwhile. Unfortunately, I have problems deciding the next course of action, so I leave it to you, the reader to decide what I should do with the money.

Here are some possibilities I have considered:

Donate half the cash to the SPCA, throw the rest into the bank;
Increase my investment in the Malaysian stock market (I'm too young to invest directly, so I do it through proxy);
Purchase Wagner;
Purchase Schubert;
Purchase Gunslinger Girl DVD and manga;
Get a book to learn the Japanese language;
Save all my cash in the bank.
Purchase Battlestar Galactica DVD.

There is absolutely no guarantee I will follow your suggestions. But due to the nature of my mind, your ultimate suggestion will remain burnt into my prefrontal cortex every time I think of the RM500.00.

Until then,
Peace be upon you.

The Science Fair

2007-07-06T17:11:00.000+08:00

As I have promised, here is a personal account on the "Karnival Pendidikan Sains dan Teknologi", the Penang state level science fair.

My team participated in the Science / Mathematics category with our product: Guava derived anti-allergen.

And now, a day-by-day account of the 4-day event.

Day 1
So here I am, at my first science fair, as a participant.

Okay, it's a lie. If you read the Medicinal Plants Discovery Award (MPDA) entry, you can safely presume this to be my second science fair as a participant. The difference this time? There are more competitors from almost every renowned and wannabe-renown school in Penang.

Unlike the closed door MPDA competition, the JPN Science Fair was conducted in a large hall packed full of the participating schools, their products, and scientific stuff from Petroscience (ergo, brain teasers and other cool stuff. The most impressive being the gigantic gyroscope for a human victim).

Unlike the almost American Idol-like presentation for the MPDA, we were allowed to do our presentations in our native habitat, informally and in English. The judges would skulk from one stall to another, patiently hearing the participants out before skewing them with sharpened spears of interrogative questioning, aiming their violent weapons at the weakest link of the armour.

Thankfully, I thrive under pressure. Nothing gets my blood pumping, my heart racing, and my brain juices boiling, bubbling, and bursting like a group of adults with hard-hitting questions. Yes, all those episodes of House, Xplay, and Anthony Bourdain were finally paying off.

The day started off with us packing all our lab equipment into a school bus. There were only 10 of us and they booked a school bus. Not since the last few days before the SPM have I had so much leg-room to share with my fellow students.

That's the only prominent part of the trip so to spare you the burden of reading my descriptions of the hazy oceans, I will dive into the science fair itself.

There wasn't really much good I can say about our fellow competitors, then again, there is not much good I can say about our product either. But boiling used cooking oil until it becomes sap? (Are you serious?) Statistical data on the SPM results for Mathematics? (My brain just dissolved from incredulity)

There were a few exceptions. But the only one I can truly say was impressive enough to warrant an award was the team from Penang Free School that made paint (as in Nippon, ICI kind of paint) from milk.

Anyway, the judges swung by sometime close to 1200hrs and we proceeded to give a five minute dissertation on why we should win first prize. The judges then challenged our application with questions about the accuracy of our data, the active compounds within our product, and a dozen other questions which were as easily shot down as giant alien mosquitoes with machine guns.

After that ordeal, we did nothing more but await the thronging visitors who would occasionally chance upon our booth. Then, we took turns explaining how our product was created, its reason of existence, and why it will not attain enlightenment.

Just before leaving, some people holding a certain cultured-milk-drink laminated logo swung by our stall to hear us out, while placing the said laminated paper right smack in the middle of our stall. Blatant advertisement aside, I expect to see some form of royalty if they decide to use the picture for promotional purposes.

The final denouement. The chief judge came by our stall and asked us to give our product's presentation once more. Except, it had to be done by one person within three minutes, using a voice recorder. Whether or not it was within three minutes I will never know, but this anomaly in human behaviour means only one thing...

We may be competing for the top prize!

Day 2
The day began differently. Instead of heading to school, I travelled over to my teacher's apartment block. I met up with two of my juniors who were also participating in the science fair in the engineering category.

The teacher swung by in her multi-purpose-vehicle and off we went to Institut Latihan Perindustrian Kepala Batas.

Wait, have we forgotten something? Damn! My two lab partners!

No, we aren't that forgetful. They had to sit for a paid-for mathematics assessment test. So off I went alone across the haze strewn landscape, where the sky and the sea merged into a single amorphous cloud of indistinguishable white.

Fickleness in choosing our parking gave us a few laughs as we passed the scouts who were out under the cloudy sun directing traffic.

Stepping into the hall, I quickly went about the task of re-establishing our base. Construction of the filtration and distillation apparatus was completed in a heartbeat, and before I could even set my roots into a quiet spot to browse through the latest issue of Nipponia, two middle-aged ladies came by and made inquiries.

Not soon after I have attended to them, explaining the various processes and uses involved in our experiments, more people shuffled by to listen. Very soon, I found myself in an unrelenting marathon session of talks about antihistamine and steam distillation, guava and quercetin, and anything else that was relevant to the project.

It was hot, humid, and cramped. I was soon soaked all over until two Malay ladies who had come by to ask about our product flapped their booklets at me in a futile attempt to decrease my core body temperature. I was sweating so profusely, a primary school student said I was melting to a friend. Believe me, this could have been the funniest thing to happen all morning.

Somewhere in between, a Malay lady strode towards me and asked for my teacher and lab partners. While I would have sincerely wished to say my lab partners had lost their way and were now in Kuala Lumpur, I forgot the Malay words for some reason and therefore told the truth; they were going to be late but were on the way.

Anyway, the lady wanted me to pass on a message to my teacher advisor, which I did through my pet pigeon, Nokia 1100. She couldn't hear me over the loud noise blaring over the speakers, and strained her poor bleeding legs back to our stall. I passed the message and she asked whether the lady had talked to the other school teachers. I replied in the negative.

Conclusion 1: We were going to receive at least, a consolation prize.

Some time later, she came back, and broke the news. Against all the odds of racism and favouritism, we won... First Place. Well, first in our category anyway.

My initial response, continue my presentation to a bunch of primary school kids on our project. In fact, the steady amount of visitors to our stall prevented me from relaying the message of our victory to my partners who were rushing over from the island.

Not long after my partners turned up, the judges came by and gave us possibly the most beautifully ugly laminated pink paper with the number “1” printed in bold. This we proudly stuck onto the retort stand holding a filter funnel.

Somewhere in between the excitement, I decided to pay an impromptu visit to Chung Ling High School Butterworth. They had fashioned a rubbish bin that used a light sensor to control a sliding lid. Sound familiar? Well, rubbish bins that automatically open their maws to swallow our gunk have been making their sinister appearance on silver screens worldwide since the advent of sci-fi films.

Not that I am demeaning them. The design was quite ingenious. The concept simple. Like an iPod Shuffle with only the “Play” button attached. And the circuitry combining a permanent magnet with a electromagnet to control the sliding lid was inspired. They thoroughly deserved their category's first place.

That is, if you actually took the time to look at what the other "engineers" came up with. A cylinder that digs holes? Haven't they been to a golf course, or at least watch one being built on tv?

Since the Butterworth boys gave us the tour of their project, it was only natural for us to invite them over to view our project. Just as I was getting into my stride explaining the uses of our product, our teacher advisor literally dragged me and another member of my team far, far away from our booth – leaving our team leader to continue the explanation.

She then proceeded to give me an LSD (Little Stupid Dream) induced berating about my apparent attempts to sabotage our chances of winning the overall prize. When I tried to explain the importance of treating your competitors as friends, she got into her 100-tonne truck of stubborn resolve and drowned me out by accusations of “not enjoying the pleasures of life” and threats upon my person if I somehow screw her chances of ever leading an overall champion winning team, by inviting our fellow finalists to view our product.

The rather painful tugging on my sleeves by the sudden vice-like grip of my teacher advisor only made the situation more hilarious than dangerous.

I admit, it would be nice to win. But seeing as I have lost countless times in countless competitions, I tend to treat victory exactly like defeat. With the lingering fact of legal racism practised in this country, I would rather eat my own vomit than thank the event organisers sincerely from the bottom of my heart for winning something.

So what does that leave me with? New friends and new lessons.

And although I was stuck in the same car, I got my chance to have a good laugh at my teacher advisor when she took a wrong turn on the highway home – heading to Kuala Lumpur instead of Penang.

Day 3
To school first. We have a presentation to perform.
Then, by car to the fair.
Haze, still there.
At the fair , we talked and talked,
Until my voice grated like chalk.
The end.

Day 4
Finally, it will be finished, over, and done with.

We arrived early for a change, and by bus too. It was the day one of us would receive a championship shield, and we wouldn't want to offend the organisers with our tardiness.

A few schools still sent teams to the fair, although most of the stalls were no longer manned, as it was the last day of the event. Even though we didn't need to, I gave talks on the scientific aspects of our product to students who swung by our stall.

They came all the way from somewhere far, far away. It would be a pity if they left with nothing.

About half-an-hour after we arrived at the hall, I was ushered away from our stall into the auditorium located a hundred metres away. There, we witnessed and experience first-hand the extreme efficiency of the event organisers in carrying out their duties.

We were first seated to the side. Then asked to vacate our seats. After we were placed at another row of seats to the middle-front, we were once more chased away by the man armed with poor-planning to another row somewhere to the side.

I would love to continue the story here, but we were asked once more to vacate our seats.

Then, once all the schools were gathered into the auditorium, we were given the honour of kick-starting the final round of presentations. Boy, it sure feels good to finally do a live presentation in English!

A round of applause later, and we were back in our seats, taking pot-shots at the other teams presenting their products. Among them, an apparent “Geneva competitor” with their innovative Nobel-prize winning product, the “Integrated Recycling Rubbish Bin”, which was nothing more than six multi-coloured hexagonal wooded bins nailed together.

Remember that article in The Star a few months ago that reported on the wasteful spending by certain universities? Those geniuses who send send their Nobel-prize hopefuls to scientific competitions in Geneva? Where the number of Malaysian participants make up the largest single group of entries from one nation?

Anyway, the apparent “innovators” came on stage to show us all pictures of them making the coffins... sorry, I mean Integrated Recycling Rubbish Bin, in the school workshop. The two boys, who barely exceeded the height of the chair they sat upon before being summoned on stage had participated in the fair by showing everyone the glorious letters of approval they had received from various Malaysian institutions of higher learning.

Let's see. If two boys small enough to play Hobbit #25 & Hobbit #26 can win approvals from their peers for creating a more inefficient waste collection system, and given first prize at some Malaysian inventions competition in Kuala Lumpur, I really don't want to know what their fellow competitors did to lose.

So, after the two boys finished their unnecessarily long presentation, they began showing us the glorious pieces of paper awarded to them for their “innovation”.

Funnily enough, it didn't end right there. The chief judge of the science fair, Dr Fong came onto stage after them to heap what seemed like high praise on the two Geneva bound boys. However, if one read between the odd pauses between the praises, one could almost hear the poisonous sarcasm leaking from the fine suit of professionalism that held Dr Fong back. He went on to ask all participants to emulate the two boys in commercialising their product, and then went on and on about how godlike the two were.

More speeches and a toilet run later, the painful “cenderahati istimewa” process began. Try as I may, I can't imagine M.I.T. giving prises to competition organisers, judges, and sponsors for doing their job.

After what seemed like an eternity of self praise, the actual prize giving ceremony was carried out in due fashion. But alas! Another flaw.

I am all for encouraging our children to go forth and (add suitable action here). However, to award prizes for coming in at 7^th place?

This was after all, a multi-category science fair, and it was the last day. One would expect the prize giving ceremony to be a quick, dignified affair. Not an example of the Malaysian mentality – the tendency to award mediocrity.

Long story short, we lost the overall prize shoot-out. Chung Ling Butterworth trumped us with a dustbin that has the magical ability to open its lid automatically when it senses changes in light intensity.

Meaning?

A product which applies the basic principles of an airport glass door defeated an alternative source of anti-allergen.

What can I say?

On CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Gil Grissom once said to a bemused Catherine Willows: “Bugs always win.” In science fairs, Grissom would be the bespectacled kid among ant farms; while Willows would be the kid with the volcano.

Oh well... Here in Malaysia, “Stuff that makes us lazier win.”

The Simple

2007-06-24T19:00:00.000+08:00

New words: Callow, graven, atheromatous, vituperative, recidivist, omerta, boondocks, avuncular, pastiche.

This week on A Stray World:

Little to none women reps, because they don't care what men say,
Refugees celebrate World Refugee Day, thoughts and comments.

First Issue
Women, Family and Community Development Minister Datuk Seri Shahrizat Abdul Jalil noted the record low numbers of women involved in politics.

For the record, it's:

9.6% of Parliament;
25% of Dewan Negara;
6.9% of state assemblies;
12.5% of local authorities; and
7.6% of board members of Bursa listed companies.

Proactive steps have been suggested to increase their numbers, but first, we must identify the reason behind the lack of boobs on the board.

Interviews with Mrs Dama, a housewife, suggests it has to do with the men.

“They are callow idiots,” she begins with vicious tenacity. “I have thirteen children and what does my god-damn husband do? He goes and ***** another woman.”

But surely this has nothing to do with Parliament.

“Let me set the record straight,” Mrs Dama said. “I have to handled thirteen bawling children at home with no support from the ******* **** in his ******* *** smoking his ******* weed. Now you are asking me if I want to talk to another hundred or so men trapped in a windowless room without soap operas and television so I can at least pretend I am listening? I think not.”

“What my mother is trying to say is the men in there are just pieces of meat to her,” interjects Susi, the eldest daughter. “You see, my dad treats my mum like the sex toy she was expected to be. So you must understand her less than tolerant attitude towards the MPs who can conjure up classical sexist jokes on the spot in front of the national body of governance.”

The interview was terminated prematurely because the half-naked father who had just woken up was demanding beef stew for lunch. Needless to say, I left before the wife slaughtered the family cow.

Is this true? Do women avoid managerial positions because to them, men are just pieces of meat? They are not worth the time of effort?

“Look, we can't have women leaders because they are distracting,” said KG, a Parliamentarian. “Those bouncing balls in sacks are just too enticing, they make me forget what I am going to say. Every time someone raises an issue and a woman MP responds, I can do nothing else but try and picture her naked. Can you really blame us for making sexist jokes? We are healthy, adult males.”

However, leaders of the nation are expected to be more... mature, about the situation. Surely the old men in power are... 'steadier' than the average Malaysian man.

“We are not 'steady',” KG responded. “Look, there is a reason why UMNO, MCA, MIC and the rest of the gang have women divisions. It's to get them working for us, but never us working for them. We don't have to see them, we don't have to hear them. But we get to joke about them and during the annual party conventions, hit on them. This arrangement also virtually ensures the next president of any party, and subsequently, the Prime Minister, will be a man.”

“Proper women are like toilet seats,” he concludes. “They should learn to support us and take our crap. Not make their own crap.”

Second Issue
At an unknown moment in time during this week, some people celebrated World Refugee Day. Because our former intrepid reporter, Ahn Ser Mi, died from bird flu during an interview with the H5N1 virus, we have replaced her with Ahn Ser Yu, her sister.

This week, Ahn Ser Yu interviews a bunch of KL kids regarding the aforementioned celebration.

Ahn Ser Yu: World Refugee Day. Your thoughts?

Kid 1: What kind of holiday is that?

Ahn: It's not a holiday. At least, not holiday celebrated here in Malaysia.

Kid 2: I know what it's about. It's about people who are refugees. That like, some kind of deviant teaching.

Ahn: Not at all. They don't exactly welcome the refugee status.

Kid 1: So they have been forced into it! Why hasn't anyone called the police?

Kid 2: Don't worry, I have them on speed dial (dials a number on his mobile phone).

Ahn: When I say refugees, I mean people who have ran away from oppressive governments or some other situation that has forced them to leave their homes behind. Like the Karens from Myanmar.

Kid 1: Are you serious? They couldn't spread their deviant teachings in their homes. So they came here to do the devils bidding instead.

Ahn: You aren't listening.

Kid 2: Hey don't worry. I just got off the phone. Apparently the Malaysian government doesn't support the refugees who enter this country although it's a UN thing. In fact, we actively seek to extradite them.

Kid 1: Yeah. That's cool.

Ahn: Kids. I was born into a family of refugees.

Under mysterious circumstances, both KL kids were found dead in a drain a few days after the interview. Ahn Ser Yu claims she was eating beef stew at the time of the incident.

Politically correct profanity:

Instead of “shit storm”,try the more gentile “stinking rain”.

Of Herbs Squenched

2007-06-19T19:07:00.000+08:00

This week, a special report on the Medicinal Plant Discovery Award competition.

Your humble servant, this faceless writer of numerous English articles has performed what could easily be described as the unthinkable. Like an American doughnut seller frying char koay teow. Not since the Chinese story telling competition in Primary 3 have I willingly participated in a project that required me to speak perfect, lucid, fluent, perfect, grammatical-error-free, Chinese.

Throughout most of this year, I have been spending a significant amount of my time preparing reports for the said competition. The objective: to build a health product or medicine from any local plant. The limitations placed upon us were that it be an original product, and its mode of application, external.

You may imagine that would be a humongous undertaking. To do what the gigantic pharmaceutical industry does every day every day with the nonchalance of a hungry lumberjack in the forest. We, with an exhaustive supply of research papers, decided to use the guava by sifting through dozens of wide-ranging reports before a cursory description of paste made from the said fruit caught our eye.

Before anyone accuses us of plagiarism, allow me to point out the original report amounted to nothing more than the boiling of fruit juice with the cellulose remnants of the fruit until it attained a gel-like consistency. We took our cue from the slightly exaggerated description of the guava's medicinal properties.

As with any organic substance, heat easily denatures the biological substances within the guava. That was one among many flaws we pointed out in the report which incidentally, didn't provide any empirical data on the effectiveness of the guava derived product as a medical cream.

Countless hours were spent perfecting the processes involved. It began with an ambitious bid to imitate the cream-like substance from the report which inspired us. Unfortunately, we had no expert help in the matter so we pretty much threw various (expensive) substances together with the haphazardness of rats among a hundred different French cheeses. The Internet, gave various details on the steps we needed to take to create a guava cream; and as detailed as the instructions were, we failed to create the light, creamy lotion we hoped to obtain.

This was where Occam's Razor came into play. Instead of creating a terrific product from complex instruction and expensive chemicals in a high school lab with equipment older than the family car; we simplified our steps and curtailed our ambitious pursuits to focus on creating a respectably effective product from high school lab equipment older than the Pentium Celeron.

The product was quickly derived and the report sent between nerve-wrecking exams, concerned parents, worried teachers, and relatively horrible exam results on my part. Not long after the entire melodrama of the first season, the networks renewed our series and we found ourselves in Kuala Lumpur for the finals.

I cursed my bad luck when the call came in telling us we needed to do the entire presentation of our project in Chinese, if we wanted to win. After risking my life by staying up till the wee hours of the morning to get myself stung by Aedes mosquitoes, testing the products on the bumps produced, compiling the English report, and designing the English presentation (which had to be presented using PowerPoint), I didn't find the Chinese language request foisted upon us with the brazen rudeness of Simon Cowell in a gay and lesbian convention singing “You Will Never Walk Alone” as their drunk induced theme very pleasing at all.

After all the public railings (by public, I meant me) against the organizers, the entire presentation was translated and given a face-lift while I attempted to give a credible delivery in a language I have good reason to avoid like a prostitute dressed as a drunken clown.

My team was awfully patient with me. Embarrassment. Supreme, unsurpassed embarrassment is the perfect phrase describing my initial attempts. Finally, on the day we should all be departing for Kuala Lumpur, the teacher and my partners finally teamed up to give me three-to-one voice coaching lessons. The entire morning was not wasted as I finally hit my stride.

I took on the lecturing parlance of a China Central Television (CCTV) and Phoenix TV talk show host. Trust me, it's less embarrassing to to talk like a pretentious, loud oaf than stutter around my materials enough to get me nominated for the Chinese version of Forest Gump.

Friday was a blur of motion, sights, sounds, touch and smell as we rumbled towards KL on one of many commercial buses plying the North-South expressway. Evening traffic jams, taxis and LRTs phased in and out of existence until the final foot powered travel to the First Business Inn. This block of glass and stone, as with many other hotels with ostentatious names, failed to reflect the “First” title bestowed upon it.

It was a two-a-room arrangement in a three by three by three box with lighting that would be as illuminating as Edison's first light bulb. The showers were confusing in their lack of instructions which resulted in two consecutive cold showers at dusk and dawn. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner though not gastronomical art by any lengths of imagination, were delicious and generously served. Considering the entire affair was fully paid for by the event organizers, is was absolutely perfect.

The luck of the draw placed both teams from my school in consecutive order, right before morning tea. Needless to say, we spent all of Friday night and Saturday morning rehearsing our presentation. Nervous wreck wouldn't be the words to describe my state of mind. Silent resignation would be more apt. As with all pessimists, I became more fluent in my part of the presentation the less I thought of my chances of winning.

And by the damnation of fate, somehow I managed to pull it off.

Saturday morning was thereafter irrelevant, and the evening was spent roaming Times Square with my project members. One of whom unexpectedly, turned out to be an avid collector of soft drink bottles and cans. Yes, such a hobby does exist. And according to the animated proprietor of the speciality Coca-Cola store, there are only two such stores in all of Malaysia. And he was the proud owner of both.

Rain poured with the exact intensity of the storms back home in Penang. But somehow, they seem louder in KL. Scientifically speaking, it's probably because of the abundance of concrete, zinc, and aluminium taking the blunt of the raindrops. I prefer to think of it as karma-inspired drumming by the forces of nature.

The evening faded with the heavy rain, and dusk led to the hall of some primary school large enough to fit a aboriginal settlement. There, we feasted among thousands of others upon generous portions of food, water, tea, herbal drinks, herbal vodka, herbal biscuits and herbal sweets. The fact it was organised by the same people behind the Medicinal Plant Discovery Award competition meant the event was peppered with various vendors endorsing diverse products seemingly built out of bizarre uncommon fruit and plant parts. But who would complain when highly competitive vendors despatch overly-friendly ladies in shorts tiny enough to double as underwear.

The results came in. And we, incredulously, won third place. Our juniors won second. Of course, I was probably the only one who felt the essential feelings of disbelief that lend me my personality. I felt our product wasn't really that good. However, the others could not be any happier, which makes me happy for them.

Saturday was driven out of the drains with the pressure of the nights cold to hot shower. Then, a night of celebration by staying up all night with the juniors who had invited some female company. Needless to say, I stayed out of their conversation to concentrated on the go puzzles I have yet to finish even after one year.

The company turned in sometime after 3.00 a.m. Breakfasted at 8, then launched ourselves to Penang. A four hour journey home that was eventful by the artfully carved mountains we passed as we headed North on the expressway. The journey has ended, and we have won something. I suppose I should be satisfied.

Bird & Beats

2007-06-10T18:52:00.001+08:00

New words: Monomania, Feckless, Uppity, Bastinado.

This week on A Stray World:

Bahasa Melayu becomes Bahasa Malaysia, Group Urges Government to Stick to Bahasa;
Bird Flu Hits Selangor, Deciding to Skip Penang for Health Reasons;
Dear Prime Minister.

Issue 1
After careful deliberation between a cup of kopi-O and Milo ais, the Man has decided to rename Bahasa Melayu to Bahasa Malaysia, which in a twist, is actually a reinstatement of its former name, which in itself was a rebranding of the original name, which incidentally came from the same language that spawned Bahasa Indonesia.

Confused? Don't be, because for a nominal fee, you can now join the elite group of citizens comprising 99% of the population (the statistics have to right, because they come from uninformed guesses) who don't know anything about it.

“For years I have been calling it Bahasa, because saying the full six syllables reminds me of the devil, and my boss is hell, in the literal sense” says Mr. D, a witchdoctor currently teaching metaphysics at Universiti Sains Malaysia (USM). “Do you know that all of my students refer to it as Bahasa as well? I don't rally see why I should start uttering the full title.”

“Yeah, I agree,” says Faz, a metaphysics student who sells herbal remedies in USM. “Malaysia and Melayu are both three syllable words. They are a mouthful to pronounce. Just look at the Australians. They call themselves Aussies because it's so much easier on the tongue.”

“I did some maths,” a bespectacled young lady enthusiastically chips in.

“It takes one extra second to say Malaysia or Melayu and three more seconds to write it down on our exam sheets. If we have to write on average 30 Bahasa Malaysia in each exams, we will have wasted 90 seconds per exam. Multiply this by 4 and we have wasted 360 seconds. We spend at least twelve studying before coming to university. That's 4320 seconds of our lives gone down the drain. And I haven't even factored in the times we spent writing the extra words in our essays and practice sheets.”

“Now do you see the REAL PROBLEM?” quips Mr D. “That is why we will take this opportunity to announce the foundation of a new NGO. We call ourselves the No-Ma-No-Me, the No Malaysia No Melayu.”

“Our agenda is to get the official policy makers to use only, and exclusively, the term "Bahasa" as the official reference to the most spoken language in Malaysia,” says Faz.

When queried on how this would benefit the nation, they responded: “The reduction in the writing of this long winded but commonly used term will reduce the risk of carpal tunnel syndrome, especially in the writing of an essay of the national language, by two hours.”

“Besides, it aids nation building by allowing the Malays and non-Malays to stake their claim on the language equally because of the apparent neutrality of the word” adds Mr D.

Who knows, maybe one day we too will remove the “Eng” from “English” because of the need to place our stake on that language as well.

Issue 2
Bird flu has struck Malaysia, killing an indefinite number of chickens in Sungai Buluh, Selangor. However, one is puzzled as to how this disease managed to slip through the Northern States without leaving a large number of dead birds behind.

A Stray World now presents an exclusive interview with a genetic expression of the H5N1 virus who calls him/herself Alex.

Field correspondent Ahn-Ser-Mi reports.

Ahn: Good morning Alex?
Alex: ...
Ahn: Um, so why did you skip the Northern States to go straight for Selangor?
Alex: Me... Alex.
Ahn: Yes we have established that, Alex. Why did you decide on Selangor first?
Alex: No... You Alex, me Jesse.
Ahn: (Ahem!) Okay. If you insist, you can call me Alex and I will call you Jesse.
Alex: No, no, no! Me Alex. You Jesse. You Charlie.
Ahn: (Ahem) Sorry I have to blow my nose.
Alex: This Petri dish too small for all of us. I leave. No, I leave! I leave as well! Leave! Leave!Leave!
Ahn: Somebody help! I think I am dying.

Interview suspended due to death of reporter:

Ahn-Ser-Mi (2006 – 2007)

Issue 3
A hearty congratulations to Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi for his marriage to Jeanne Abdullah. No cynicisms or ironies attached. I am genuinely happy for you.

Alternative Profanity: Instead of “asshole”, try “proximal chasm”.

Shroud Indiscriminate

2007-06-05T13:07:00.000+08:00

New Phrase:
Shit, the sea is cool. (Attributed to a visiting friend who enjoys roaming the watery kingdom of Queensbay, Penang)

This week on A Stray World, we explore culture.

It is a feeling of great anxiety. As if the mind is being ravaged by tonnes of pop-idols and Hollywood remakes. Great goblins of trash espousing the benefits of fame and fortune, arrogance and vanity like a cup of oily, overpriced Columbian coffee served in a Starbucks kiosk.

Yet this is the nature of society as we know it. The Muslims of this country are partially correct about the detrimental influence of the Western nations. The effects have been immediate and far-reaching. An entire generation scarred by the repetitiveness of reality singing contests and pretentious fairytale courtships.

However, one need not blame the West for every deterioration of our national consciousness. We can start by blaming ourselves.

Malaysia is a country rich in heritage and blah, blah, blah. A string of clichés and connectors repeated so often it has attained the same level of effectiveness in expression as the winner of the second Malaysian Idol.

How much do we actually know about our country anyway? First, we should ask ourselves, do we really love our country?

I do love my country. I love the land, I love the people. But I detest the law and its enforcers.

In this regard, I point to the first settlers of this country, the Orang Asli. Specifically, of Peninsular Malaysia.

How many of them can you name? This group of individuals lassoed into the “others” category in the National Registration Department form.

Negrito, Penan, Jahai, Batek are among the strange and wonderful names that have persisted through the ravages of time. As much as I enjoy learning about these people, it always saddens me when I realise there will always be something missing. Like a misplaced earplug when Paris Hilton is playing on the radio.

These people with their own unique language, music, food and culture are being slowly and steadily assimilated into mainstream society. Where women are victimised and children are raped with the frequency of Hollywood making a sub-par sequel to a blockbuster cult classic.

To quote an example of this blatant disregard for our own cultural heritage, just remember the Kelantan government has an active “loyalty points” programme where a Muslim who marries an aboriginal (and the subsequent conversion to Islam) gets RM10,000.

Another example is the rather vacuous excuse of religious purity, invoked for the immediate and future dispersal of any showroom piece of the ghosts and ghouls and otherworldly legends pervading this land of many peoples and faces.

To paraphrase, what sick bastards wouldn't want to see a ghost trapped in a bottle?

It is with great pain that I realise most of my acquaintances flatly refuse to learn anything and experience anything that they are unfamiliar with. Though I can be accused of being prejudiced in this manner, I can flatly state that my prejudices come from direct experience. I have come to detest modern Hollywood movies because of their emphasis on special-effects and explosions, with little regard to the story at hand.

This is a conviction arising from the rebellion of the mind after the umpteenth outing to the cinema to accompany my buddies to watch yet another hyped up million-dollar budget film. I don't mind wasting my time and money for my friends, I just don't like to repeat the process.

It is not the desire to be different that I say what I say and do what I do. It is a desire to learn about humanity. In a sense, to study myself. Though admittedly, it is also a rebellion against sex-induced rap/pop songs awashing the landscape like a plague of Manchester United fans after winning the Premiership.

Variety is a gift to the mundane. And I do welcome the fact that my acquaintances have varied tastes. However, what I never welcome is to close ones mind and heart. Though I try not to judge anyone else but myself, it is terribly hard to do so. Particularly when I know what the flaw is.

Empathy is something we can all learn to pick up. And for the average Malaysian out there who is content to listen to only one side of the story, to make judgements preceding the evidence, I can only hope the damage they will inflict will be limited to themselves. Unfortunately, that is not the case, due to the relative scale of this syphilis-like affliction.

“Read less, watch more TV,” House.

So I see the sharp jagged, serrated mountains of the Andes; and scale the vast deserts of Morocco; and I found myself flying into the oceans and inhaled the blue-blood of the Earth. I find that all entrancing. Wonderful. Achieving an euphoric state incomparable to anything else I have ever experienced. I could do this in person, but TV is cheaper.

After something like this, how can anyone even consider cuddling up in an air-conditioned room devoid of anything but the mechanical precision of modern man pervading every facet of the white bland walls.

On Sunday, I was witness to an event which I regretted paying for. A thousand Chinese orchestra students simultaneously playing to an audience of ordinary folks.

The event was to begin at 2000 hours. It began at 2010, when the VIPs turned up.

When the night was suppose to be about the music of Chinese culture became a brazen political landfill of campaign speeches by our VIPs. At last, the instruments began to hum to the beat of the conductor more than an hour after the designated time.

The lack of harmony was obvious to anyone with an ear for music. The beats were erratic and some sections of the medleys became entire mudflats of dirt and debris. When the organisers awarded themselves the Malaysian Book of Records for the most number of musicians in a performing band, I had to exit to the toilets before the mediocrity and absurdity of the entire event liquefied my mind and damned my soul.

Is this what our culture has become? A series of Crazy Frog ringtones? Where insane acts of blatant disregard for culture and decency have become our culture? Where we choose to selectively blame the West for our forsaking of our culture, yet ignore the fact that Western culture actually encourages their people to discover and learn about others.

Rap didn't just come about. Its roots can be traced back to Ghanaian music. It was a profound form of poetry and art that has since evolved into the superficial land of music videos filled with guns, girls and gyrations. Yet this is American culture. More sex. More booze. More fun.

What about us? What about our culture? What of our music? What of our people?

It's a wonder that it is the work of foreigners who seek to protect our culture. While we busily scramble to remove every trace of it.

Alternative profanity for the week:
Try the more feminine "cow dung" instead of "bull shit".

Cold and Wet

2007-05-27T19:25:00.000+08:00

New words: Fillip, Caulk, Gunwale, Apercu, Callisthenics.

This week on A Stray World:

What men think women want men to think what women should wear;
What Parliament Thinks of Members of Parliament;
Substitute Profanity of the Week.

Issue 1
We come back to the alleged issue of discrimination once more, against the fairer sex. This topic has been explored before, but then, I did it from an egalitarian socialist point of view.

Now, for the benefit of macho men out there who think women should be seen (preferably covered with black window curtains), I bring you: Mr. Makan Kaki.

"Women are naturally modest. And besides, we are Asian. We shouldn't be pressured to follow the corrupt Westerners with their short-stringed bikinis and low cut tops," opines Mr. Makan Kaki, a fictional representation of the Malaysian macho man.

"But sir," I said, "Don't Orang Asli women whose ancestors have lived on this land for many generations wear almost nothing but loincloths and beads? Surely that's an Asian culture."

"They must have inherited it from the West," retorts the red-faced Mr. Makan Kaki, "They are immigrants from the Burmese region of Asia. Any map will show that region lies to the West of Malaysia."

"And besides. Those women know their place in society now after the Malays emigrated en-mass into the Malay Peninsular from Sumatera," continues our affable friend. "Back then, these women had equal rights as men in inheritance, power, knowledge, respect and social status as men. They even had the right to walk about half-naked and reject suitors! What kind of sick society was that?"

"Luckily, the new immigrants brought with them paternal rights and they instilled those values into those women."

"But sir," I began with good reason, "By 'instilling their value' as you say, they began pillaging the villages, killing the men, raping the women, and capturing women and children to be used as sex slaves. This trading of humans didn't come to an end until the British came to power."

"They knew nothing about us! They destroyed our culture!" he spluttered. "They removed our Sultans from power and tried to give equal rights to every one with their Malayan Union nonsense. If it weren't for the rise of national consciousness, who knows what our nation would be like today?"

"But didn't the Malays did the same thing when they established Melaka and subsequently proceeded to invade Orang Asli territory? Didn't they 'destroy culture' as well?"

"Oh don't be so high and mighty. You Chinese did it too when you came here with your opium," snapped Makan Kaki. with increasing ferocity "At least we gave them religion."

"I admit, my ancestors did unsavoury things as well," said I "By the way, your point also brings up something interesting as well... You just acknowledged your immigrant status as well. Besides the fact the Orang Asli had a belief system of their own as well which the Malays tried to wash away with Islam after the raping and enslaving."

At this point in the interview. I found myself with a royal keris stuck 12 centimetres deep into my abdomen. Needless to say, I died a horrible death.

Issue 2
What do you mean I didn't die?!? Don't you know how much I was looking forward to it?

Anyway, our next session begins with Parliament.

"So Parliament, what do you think of our elected representatives?" I questioned the august building.

"Their are smart MPs and polite MPs.
Stupid MPs and rude MPs.
There are greedy MPs and generous MPs.
There are hard-working MPs and lazy MPs.
There is a disabled MP and able-bodied MPs.
There are women and there are children MPs.
But at the end of the day,
The elected representatives,
are your MPs."

Issue 3

Beginning this week, I will start giving suggestions for popular profanity.

Today, I feature the rather mild: "Holy shit!"

Instead of "Holy shit!", try "Ecclesiastical excrement!"

That all for the end of the week.

As the Jahai say: The spirits are are listening. The Earth is listening. The people are listening. Be well.

Hard Knocks

2007-05-06T19:38:00.000+08:00

Swale, Trellis, Arbour, Riposte, Peripatetic, Battue, Creel, Pekoe, Deke, Mastic, Chancre, Calcifuges, Fetid, Nadir, Alarum, Tipple, Atavistic.

This week's edition of A Stray World features:

The buildings of Malaysia

The inherent architecture of a country is a mirror of public consciousness.

As the majestically decadent structures of Paris represent her people's obsession with the luxuries of life over the plights of the impoverished, stark contrasts are seen with the single-story circular buildings of old Beijing streets emphasising family unity over outward opulence.

What then can be said about the buildings of Malaysia, which admittedly, can't boast much in terms of history, as most of the historical buildings are in the process of being torn down, if not in severe disrepair?

It is by choice, by the dictation of the voice of greed that our seniors in power have chosen to build over the old with supposedly modern infrastructures of development. As we compete with our enemies, imagined or otherwise, to build the tallest towers as a symbol of class and culture, it would do to take note that in Italy, the arguable centre of fashion and lifestyle, some cities have enacted rules forbidding buildings to grow beyond a certain height.

Enactments in place before the advent of skyscrapers!

Does modernization hold the chains of hope for this land, or will it be the anchor that pulls us all into a quagmire of cultural monotony?

In little less than one month, no less than four reports have been filed on our pride and joy, the modern buildings of governance, of breaking under the weight of time.

Barely a decade into service and cracks have broken through the ceilings, burst pipes have flooded entire floors, and red-faced ministers have spluttered out blame on anyone but themselves.

Apparently, maintenance of the structures is one of the reasons, though correctly pointed out, not the chief reason. Which begs the question, what form of government would employ lazy monkeys to staple water pipes into administrative buildings?

It is an open secret government contracts are given to bumiputera contractors simply for being bumiputeras. When that happens every single day, every month, for every year since the NEP, you can't blame these people for shucking the responsibility for the job.

After all, if you possess the distinct advantage of living on the sale of personal responsibility, wouldn't you be tempted too?

The government has taken note too, seeing from their press statements in Malay entrepreneur development forums and whatnots.

Not surprisingly, nothing has been implemented so far to fix the broken sprocket. Policies have to take the racial factor into account. While an egalitarian solution is definitely preferable, election results won't reflect the satisfaction derived from strong, long-lasting structures of governance.

It is with sad reflection that old wooden kampung houses in rural areas have outlasted modern plastic and PVC.

Why is that the case? Perhaps the only satisfying answer lies with the builder.

At the end of the day, we are left with nothing more than the hope that these buildings will outlast their creators, to serve a future generation as well as they are serving the present one.

I(m)jok(ing)

2007-04-29T15:55:00.000+08:00

Ethology, Antiphonal, Polyamory, Kinesics, Divigate, Tangentially, Sinecure, Halcyon, Rapacious.

This week on A Stray World, we explore, by-elections!

The bane of humanity, governance.

Where there are people, there exists hierarchy. The only difference is the form of hierarchy. In this instance, it is known as democracy, though kakistocracy does come to mind.

Through a fortunate series of events known as 'hitsuzen' we have enjoyed the staging of two by-elections within the span of two months.

First the Batu Talam by-election.

Let's see. Citizens deprived of a great leader. Check.
A multi-racial contractual party contests again. Check.
A Chinese majority opposition party that is multi-racial in principle. Check.

Looks like a clear cut victory for the good guys then. After all, they came in promising lots and lots of goodies and swag, stuff you would never receive if you voted for the DAP.

Watching TV3's Berita Utama, all I heard were good things about the Barisan Nasional while the reporters painted the opposition as inept simpletons out to "raise issues for votes".

To quote Datuk Fictional: "Don't vote for the opposition. The rakyat knows only the BN can bring developement to the people. We have so many component parties representing all the various races led by the very capable UMNO."

"The only thing the opposition knows how to do well, and very well they do so, is to raise issues in Parliament, Now what use is that to the government to raise issues in Parliament? They should kow-tow to us for even allowing them to speak in our godly presence."

"Once again, I say, vote for the mega-super-party BN. Because your constituency will only receive funds for developement if you vote for us."

Well, that was what he said telepathically.

Truth be told, my trust in all forms of media has been reduced to "edit" status, where my mind does its own reconstruction of events portrayed, sans the patriotic messages.

Every moment in time The Star reports on the sanctity of the Barisan Nasional, I flip the page. I would not have done that if they gave a balanced account of the opposition parties at the same time.

Prime example: Kelantan.

I was surprised by a sudden article on the Islamic state by The Star a few months back. The state government actually gives land rights to the non-Malays. Couple this with my own National Service experience, where those opposed to my views of a fair-and-square policy were not opposed, if not downright supported by my Kelantanes friend there, I can safely conclude Kelantan is more Malaysian (in terms of equal rights) than the BN can ever be.

To Ijok, and the same issues are being played about.

What's interesting this time is the amount of goodies promised by the government. Sudden unveiling of grand development projects and promises to fix long damaged public amenities come to fore, provided the people vote for the ruling coalition.

And there you have it.

A supreme ruling party with no suitable challenger steam-rolling and browbeating every one else into rakyat-layered kaya. I see little reason to register as a voter, since the only choice I have is the only choice given.

Defiance/Compliance

2007-04-15T18:16:00.000+08:00

Bivouac, Middlemarch, Shindy, Fatalist, Enid, Mauser, Mien, Escudo, Ordinal.

As the general Malaysian blogosphere knows, a few Malaysian politicians age twenty something and above has been throwing about choice words regarding the Malaysian blog community.

A quick recap:

Politician A claimed most bloggers were unemployed women and blah blah blah.

Politician B called for the registration of all Malaysian bloggers.

Politician C, and D, and E, and F, and G... ad infinitum, agree with one or the other.

There is a common consensus among the politicians (in power) that the views of people who are considered 'extremist' or 'a threat to social harmony' expressing opinions that offer nothing more than a drop of oil into the ocean that is the Internet, should be printed and shredded to strips of paper noodles.

Since we all know the government is all about social harmony, besides being a bunch of people who take our money whether we like them or not, it is relatively inevitable the Barisan Nasional govenment will start a nationwide drive to register bloggers in Malaysia.

How will they carry out this form of intellectual suppression?

I can only guess it will start with a voluntary program at the beginning of the year, where Malaysian bloggers will be invited to add their names to a growing database for a Malaysian Book of Records entry, because the only other motivation involves money and free food, which would be contrary to the government's healthy lifestyle drive.

The devious plot thus carried out, the government will then release statistical figures manipulated so it would seem Malaysia is the number one country in blogs per hundred citizens.

Very soon, there will remain only a hardcore group of bloggers hosting their puny sites of resistance on American servers with the paranoia of Fox Mulder and Gregory House.

They will form an online cult dedicated to the preaching of Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Expression. Twin gods considered illegal by the National Fatwa Council, who will issue a verdict: "We condemn any online activity of any kind involved in the spread of lies, slander, and inconvenient truths which most people are smart enough to distinguish anyway."

"This is a further expansion to the trading of stocks online, which is completely unacceptable although it is not much different from trading stock in the Bursa Saham."

"Haram. Absolutely 150,000,000% haram."

Here then is a brief guide to all bloggers out there who will one day, meet expensively dressed government officers with gold laptops at your doorstep asking for your DNA sample:

If they ask you if you are a blogger, answer 'yes' if you are female and 'no' if you are male. This will appeal to their logic and hopefully, result in a less violent treatment of your anus once you are safely hidden behind concrete walls.
If you are given a form to fill, add as many details as possible. If your name is a continuous strings of 'son of', make sure you add the names of your grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather... for at least two hundred generations. If you are asked to fill in your address, fill in your work address, your parent's address, your girlfriend's/boyfriend's/partner's/mistresses'/married-sex-partner's/ex-wives' address, the Prime Minister's residence, your Parliamentary representative, and your home address.
The logic behind this is the known fact that government bureaucracy will result in the most detailed forms being filed under the "We will look at them after a decade cabinet".
Don't have children. They might want to become the government servants wearing expensive Armani suits paid for by grumpy taxpayers.

I am really looking forward to the government clamping down on us bloggers, really I am! Just to see how badly their screw up taxpayer money this time.

Note to Self

2007-04-08T17:41:00.000+08:00

Colonnade, Bower, Mestizo, Paucity, Commode, Leitmotif, Awl, Ingle, Hooch.

"Where have the jokes gone?" You may ask. "Where is the vindictive appraisal of society and its misgivings? Where is the honest reflection and where are the bloody fake news?"

A while back, I responded to what I deemed unnecessary demand on the part of my friend to return to a more personalised version of a blog when I began experimenting with fake news - with a parody entry of myself using profanity not usually heard in this continent in the entry otherwise known as I, Rewarp.

After all, this was my, MY, part of the world that I was devastatingly proud to call my own. To write as I please and to hell with what others thought. I refused to cater to the whims of my audience and to write for my own pleasure.

The irony was, my audience began enjoying and even welcomed my new direction. Eventually, I fell into my own proverbial trap, eventually writing what I thought would please the readers.

People grow and change, and I eventually grew tired of the fake news medium, finding that little change regardless of my work, however funny or thoughtful. The year barely begun when Innocence blew away the pretensions that shrouded my consciousness. I begun to look at the world in a different manner.

I began to analyse the way I interacted with the world at large. How the simple slip of a few chosen words like "I will be a celibate for life" influences the nature of interaction between individuals.

I realised, the further I distanced myself from life, the more of it I saw.
I belonged to the world, I helplessly beheld in awe.
If I ever held it in disdain,
I only need to remember, it was here before.

I began to prune my philosophy and thoughts accordingly. For a very long time, I observed I didn't need gods to protect and guide me, and thought the same rule must apply to everyone else. I concede defeat in this opinion.

I don't need gods, but most of humanity does. After all, human punishment only goes so far, and is subject to the caprice of human laws and lawyers. There is no legal respite after death, as the ideal soul finds sanctuary in the heavens while lawyers go to hell. A sin is no wrong, it is damnation.

In lieu of this development in my hideously limited mental capacity, I found myself hoping gods do exist. And then, an epiphany!

Humans are Gods.

We have created life.

What is life?

Living things need to take in energy
Living things get rid of waste
Living things grow and develop
Living things respond to their environment
Living things reproduce and pass their traits onto their offspring
Over time, living things evolve (change slowly) in response to their environment

Consider the computer. This is the universe we conceived with the fundamental building blocs of 1's and 0's. We write software for this universe, populating it with nebulae and stars. We give this universe fundamental laws which can never be broken, unless we rewrite the laws.

Then the programs grow, not just in number, but in variety. They consume energy, more and more of it with every passing generation. If you plugged in an Apple 2 into any household socket today, it would most likely explode in a shower of melting plastic and glass.

They changed beyond recognition, leaving behind the detritus of obsolete parts. They became specialised.

So far in this retelling of computing history, humans still input the changes, like gods with malleable dough, we write our aemaeth on the clay to create artificial life to serve us. But arguably, this A.I., as we continue to call it, has fulfilled all six criteria for life, just in a form we may not comprehend.

Consider the computer virus. Unlike the Pakistan Brain, today's viruses can perform multiple tasks simultaneously, besides performing numerous acts of vandalism and theft.

Their coding is now so advance, they actively make choices to preserve themselves. Some even change and add strings of code from the machines they infect to become stronger, tougher, more resilient.

Is this a manifestation of life?

"No, God forbid!" You may argue.

Though if you think about it, isn't that how you live? By following the rules enshrined in tablets, scriptures or books defining the do's and don'ts.

And like me, even if you don't, those same rules contain punishment, retribution for those who defy the fundamental laws. Abnormalities which will eventually spiral out of control, just like the Muslim extremists.

Disturbing isn't it, to consider we may be Gods without realising it,
Then to see, we may be nothing more than creatures made to service feet.

Toss and Roll

2007-04-01T18:30:00.000+08:00

Himbo

This week on A Stray World:

Trip to USM.

Trip to USM
For the sake of a medicinal-herbal-traditional plant competition, I earned a trip to Universiti Sains Malaysia last Friday, no mean feat in itself, until you add the skipping four-and-a-half periods of classes, meeting the people who run the place and a free meal from the teacher in charge of our group.

In truth, this was my first visit to USM, if not my first visit to a university of any nature in Malaysia.

For starters, the land in which the seeds of campus USM sprouted on is HUGE. The terrain of gently inclining hills and steep drops made driving a rather dangerous affair, which means the recent order forbidding everyone affiliated with USM from driving within campus except PhD scholars and lecturers perfectly reasonable, considering the above average speed my teacher was eliciting from her Perodua.

Initial impressions of a capable, respectable institution were supported by a swimming pool close to the entrance while further down the narrow road, a homely, glass-walled building for the alumni greeted us modestly among the randomly sprinkled buildings of research.

Further down, I realised USM's architecture wasn't old as in colonial-charm old, but blocky apartments which would fit into any cuboidal box with nary a space in between if someone invented a shrink ray. If the oversized three alphabets representing the university weren't emblazoned onto the grass overlooking the road, the streets choked with parked cars and coldly technical signboards would fool any would-be-visitor into thinking he had just stumbled into Putrajaya on a weekday.

Finding a spot close to the Chemistry department, we entered the rather cramped first floor smelling of government hospital - a rather distinct cologne if one has ever set foot in a public health institute.

USM Fact No. 1: USM prefers to employ Malays.

Tudung wearing Malays, beard growing Malays, you get the picture. Frankly, the breakdown of the various races in USM I saw that day was greatly skewed from the breakdown of the nation's races by population. While I have no problem with qualified personnel, nobody is naive enough to believe the 'others' aren't qualified to hold administrative positions in USM or any public university in Malaysia for the matter.

Thankfully, USM at least took great measures in employing the best Malays. The administrative charts upon the walls of the Pharmaceutical department revealed an almost disturbing tendency to hire Malays who have graduated with honours from United Kingdom institutions of higher learning; along with the odd foreigner and obligatory 'others'. Though this measure is to be greatly admired, it still means our own local institutions aren't producing individuals who are brainy enough to lead the very universities they studied in.

USM Fact No. 2:Dean's List Students are predominantly Chinese

As much as the politicians who play the racial card claim a 'great Malay rising', the truth is, they are falling further and further behind. The floodgates have been forced open with iron bars for them while the 'others' had to slip by between the ruined walls yet a quick glance of the best of USM revealed only two Malays out of thirty or so Chinese names.

Kudos to USM for revealing the papers to the public, granted, a very limited public. If these numbers were ever published on national newspapers, we would see UMNO and PAS leaders joining hands and waving the keris all the way into campus to oust more Chinese descended scholars.

USM Fact No 3:USM lecturers are qualified

Repeating the same point, USM does employ capable lecturers, even though they be mostly Malay.

There were two professors who took their time to explain the various concepts and ethics (ETHICS!) regarding our medicinal plant project. At least some of the government sponsored Malays have not disappointed our taxpayers.

Both professors were gaily helpful, pointing out flaws in our project as well as lab work we might wish to consider. This was the next best thing to meeting the professor-in-charge of medicinal plants, who was ironically, not available because he was attending a medicinal plant and herbal remedies expo in Kuala Lumpur.

In conclusion, USM is not the place one would wish to study in, unless one enjoys blatant discrimination, and being forced to admit the people hired through discrimination are highly qualified, every single day.

Studying, Ending, Humanity.

2007-03-25T18:47:00.000+08:00

Weir, Dyke, Prognostic, Apotheosis, Effulgence, Bosky, Apocryphal, Spurious, Prodigious, Garret, cum grano salis, Sorrel, Perforce, Gimlet, Vim, Bugger.

Something to Live for,
Something to Die for,
Living to Die,
Dying to Live.

This week on a Stray World:

Global Warming/Reset the World?

Global Warming/Reset the World?
I caught a snippet of the naysayers in The Star over the week. The discussion was centred on global warming, or rather, the lack thereof.

I should probably add the total number of naysayers were ten divided by ten strong, and the reply one hundred minus ninety-nine in amount.

Basically, the gist of the letter quoted a few facts and figures which apparently support the idea global warming is a myth. Where the rising temperature is actually a natural progression of natural climate change by Mother Nature.

Here's a low down on what the naysayers say about global warming:

An increase of 1 degree Fahrenheit over two decades is irrelevant because the measurements were taken from local micro-habitats which have undergone severe changes over the years;
What the greenhouse gas producing countries spew out from their industries is nothing compared to what Mother Nature expels from her gut, e.g., volcanoes, decaying vegetation, etc.
Global warming is actually delaying the next ice-age;
Carbon trading schemes are essentially useless due to governments setting lax carbon-emission targets;
With several million members worldwide, the 'greens' or environmentalists are an industry upon itself bent on profit,
Environmental movements are hampering human right efforts worldwide by emphasising on the protection of the environment above all else.

It must be made clear, first of all, global warming is a science, not a fundamentalist struggle by environmentalists. Decades ago, during a period in the middle of the 20th century, a cold spell led many to believe the next ice age was upon us. Today, probably the very same climatologists are vouching for global warming.

While this may seem contradictory at first, we must remember the application of scientific methods is important in any scientific study.

To quote Gil Grissom from an episode of CSI: "When the evidence changes, so must the theory."

New studies and surveys of ice cores throughout the world have revealed several periods of warmth and cold throughout Earth's history. Cold periods are known as glacial periods, separated by warm, temperate interglacial periods.

This would then explain the up and down patterns of the Earth's climate during the past centuries.

Here is where it gets weird.

There is a Great Ocean Conveyor underneath the choppy waters surrounding the continents. Without making things too complicated, imagine a snaking line of hot water flowing from the equator to the poles, where they are cooled and sent back to the equatorial regions.

Science 101: Hot water is less dense than cold water. Hot water will therefore travel all the way up North before sinking to the bottom as it cools. Cooler water returns to the equatorial regions, completing the cycle.

That is why Berlin isn't as cold as Edmonton, even though they are located on the same altitude.

Global warming isn't so much the illness as the catalyst for an eventual ice-age. As the seas warm up, the polar ice caps begin to shrink. Shrinking ice caps don't just raise the sea level, they reduce the concentration of salt within the worlds' oceans. This is because most of the water trapped in the polar ice is freshwater.

Reducing the salinity of the seas means cold water becomes less dense than it should be. If cold water can't sink to the bottom of the oceans, the Great Ocean Conveyor comes to a standstill.

The result, instant ice age for the Northern Hemisphere.

Of course, this is all just theoretical. Nothing in science is absolute.

But it doesn't stop me from hoping a great tragedy like that will occur. Imagine a poor, derelict, starving Europe and America, and the rise of a powerful block of warm-climate agrarian countries in Latin America, Asia and Africa.

As depressed as I am about life, I would live to see that.

To answer the point raised where Mother Nature spew out more trash than all of humanity combined in a year, first we have to put things in perspective.

As usual a reminder, global warming as a science involves the study of various disciplines combined, and any individual component shouldn't be taken out of context.

It is irrefutable that volcanoes produce an amount of toxic gases greater than humans do every year. Additionally, industrial nations have cleaned up their practises and procedures over the decades.

However, one may be urged to forget the wholesale cutting of rainforests, highlands and other carbon absorbing structures on this planet. While industry practises may become cleaner, you can't expect Mother Nature to become more efficient by growing faster can you?

While plants may grow faster with increasing levels of carbon dioxide and warmer weather, as more forests are being levelled than being replanted, the efficiency of each plant in processing carbon dioxide must increase to make up for their fallen members.

To put it in perspective, Naruto using kage bunshin no jutsu to fight Orochimaru during the first season before the episode fillers.

In essence, Mother Nature may spew out more stuff than us, but unless we can eat our own vomit like her, humans become net contributor to greenhouse gases, however insignificant certain factions may describe it.

Criticism on the carbon trading scheme is valid.

Here's a run-down on carbon trading using suicide-bombers as a metaphor.

Imagine two Al-Qaeda cells with suicide bombers. Cell A contains 100 suicide bombers while Cell B contains 2 suicide bombers.

Due to management crisis as a result of multiple assassination and arrests of senior Al-Qaeda members, the number of suicide bombers in each cell must be capped so more can live on to take up administrative positions.

Let's say Osama only wants 50 suicide bombers in each cell, and Cell A needs all its suicide bombers to carry out bombing operations as it operates in a particularly busy Baghdad street; Cell A will either reduce the number of suicide bombers or, purchase the free membership for suicide bombers in cell B.

This means Cell A includes Cell B's quota in its numbers, with an extra two men.

If Osama states penalties for every man that exceeds the quota, Cell A will only need to pay for the two extra men.

Substitute the industrialised West for Al-Qaeda Cell A, the undeveloped third world countries for Al-Qaeda Cell B and carbon emissions for suicide bombers and that's carbon trading in a nutshell.

As the demand for carbon emission allowance increases from the developed nations, carbon credits (allowances for carbon emissions) increase in value, resulting in a very lucrative industry for all.

Smart, ingenious. Doomed to fail.

Even though carbon trading is supported by the EU, non-signatories of the Kyoto protocol such as the USA and China, who are the top two carbon emitting countries of the world, do not engage in carbon trading as actively as they do in Internet pornography.

Critics also point out local governments often set carbon-emission targets that are higher than what would be considered prudent and effective. This has resulted, not surprisingly in an increase of carbon emissions from countries who have delivered their John Hancock's to Kyoto such as Ireland.

Next point of contention in the global warming debate, environmentalists are nothing but imperial capitalists exercising every available measure to ensure undeveloped nations and communities stay undeveloped and poor.

Apparently, this is the reason various organisations wish to preserve local culture, to keep the black man in Africa and the Asians in their jungles.

Without rapid development (i.e. deforestation for industrial purposes) these countries will never compete on a level playing field with the heavily industrialised countries who can now supposedly, afford to reforest their raped lands.

Correct me if I am mistaken, but isn't America, THE most developed country actively implementing deplorable environmental policies?

Oil-fields in the Alaskan wilderness and overfishing of commercial fish-stocks aren't the standard practise for rehabilitating the environment.

Here, the critics are as naive as the environmentalists who believe the masses will come to accept the extinction of a species as a greater crime than murder.

Besides, there is an Asian country which has proven beyond a doubt it is possible to be an industrialised developed nation in harmony with traditional cultures and nature: Japan.

The country boasts the second largest economy after the US (developed), boasts master sword makers who still craft swords for a living (culture), and boasts an astounding 68.2% forest cover (environment).

I am all for shutting down their whaling fleets but you can't deny they still have a higer percentage of forest cover than Malaysia!

If they can do it, I fail to see why the rest of Asia and the world can't. Maybe we are just so lazy, we would rather swim in our own muck than clean up.

As usual, treat all this info with cum grano salis, as evidence continues to pour in regarding the effects of global warming will (not may) change facts into myth.

Rifts

2007-03-18T13:18:00.000+08:00

Plage, Phrenology, Propitiate, Circumlocution, Sophistry.

A journey of darkness,
Begins with light.

A1
Sojourn

A1
The denouement of a long struggle is a sense of closure. Of finality. How then, should one feel after grand achievements that amounts to further public criticism?

This week, Malaysian society was abuzz with news of outstanding students achieving extremely favourable results in the SPM and STPM, especially the former, which is quoted as a benchmark of a student's performance through secondary school.

Having underwent a brief soul-searching of sorts has given me a new perspective on the issues at hand.

While a year ago, I berated society and the government at large for suppressing individual desire in pursuit of unrealistic national agendas; today I realise society has actually conditioned a new generation of single-minded photocopiers intent on pursuing life goals that echo social propriety.

The epiphany was echoed by reading the comments made by the successful students in the national dailies. Virtually every single remark and "secrets of success" had been mentioned the previous years and the years before.

The one most often mentioned by my teachers and fellow classmates, seniors and friends is to drill oneself in the intricacies of questions past. In fact, the only reason I got the highest grade possible for my Geography and History during the PMRs was due to five hours each of past year questions.

While in a way, this certainly proves the efficacy of the formula, it also implies there is only one certain route to go about life.

If life were about taking as many past year questions as possible, shouldn't we be pouring all our free time into the study of human history, on debates of morality and spirituality?

For Buddhism, the study of past lives is an intricate and necessary path to enlightenment. While I do not profess membership of any occult or religious institution myself, this is a disturbing point to ponder upon.

In an ironic twist, we are told and advised to disregard certain worldly affairs from our past for fear of arousing discontent, distraction, and disturbances. We are given lessons on the history of Islam in depth, yet disregard the Malaysian-Singaporean history. Little surprise why dealings with the island nation have always been contentious and confrontational.

Racial segregation is not given its full treatment, where the "parental mindset" of our leaders have deemed the public too immature for open debate regarding the subject.

They quote the constitution, and remind us of the social contract for peace and prosperity. Yet here we are, producing a new generation of Malaysian students who are found wanting when engaged in public debate, in society.

What is the value of an "A1".

Here, it is the epitome of success. The character of the person is rendered irrelevant. What they have become is a string of numbers and algebraic conformation.

Numbers and letters.

"She is a 16 A1 student."

"I got 9 A1's"

"Your future depends on your UPSR/PMR/SPM/STPM."

That is what we have become: a nation rich in culture and history made barren by education.

Sojourn
Actions are a result of thought, to state the obvious. Though sometimes, thought follows action, as the following suggests.

Last Saturday, after a brief discussion on certain school projects, I was left with four hours on the clock before my mother could make time to pick me up from school. As the route between my humble abode and school was split by a few hills and busy roads, human power alone is inadequate for commute.

With the state of public transportation as it was in Penang, to even suggest taking the bus would be akin to rowing a boat up the Himalayas with spoons and forks.

Nevertheless, one can attempt Biology past-year questions for only so long, which was when I decided to do a spur of the moment trek to the massive rain tree bordering the school compounds overlooking the Sixth Form blocks.

A few minutes was all I needed to reach the river's edge, where I followed the bank as closely as I dared. The bank was raised to a moderate 1 to 2 metres above the river level.

Thick grass thickets had been trimmed, however, most of the grass were still piled where they were, offering immediate sanctuary to any denizens nearby.

Immediate reptilian concerns were answered by the appearance of a juvenile monitor lizard, which under the thickets, resembled a section of a python. Closer inspection frightened the creature into a Olympic dive into the murky river.

Further trekking brought me to the quaint houses hugging the riverbank's edge. The rain tree was unreachable as the houses shielded whatever trail I could identify.

No doubt, further inspection would have brought me to the tree, but the forlorn playground overlooking the cemetery caught my attention.

The monkey bars were wrapped in netting of some sort, obviously for football. The swings half-broken and in real danger of collapse. One of the seats was angled in a perpendicular position, apparently defying the laws of physics as no objects other than the chains which held it were in contact with the contraption.

The sight of the dead-blocks of epitomes dedicated to people long consumed by the earth lay silently opposite the swings on that Saturday morning.

As I left, a sudden metal clanging brought my attention to the warning signpost, which forbade anyone under 12 years of age from using the facilities.

The metal plate, unscrewed at one end, banged against the post it was nailed to a second time, as if professing the disturbing neglect and disuse of the playground.

The sky was suitably morose, alternating between moments of moderate heat and complete darkness. The rain fell a few times, but not heavy enough to warrant a home invasion.

While I pondered the weight of issues burdening my thoughts, the feet kept walking. Soon, I found myself wandering Air Itam market.

I entered a book cum stationery store, and left unmoved by the titles on offer. 50 cents was spent on a Chinese snack, you za gui, if you can read Pin Yin. The rainy drizzle intensified for a brief moment before ebbing away completely.

I walked on without any general purpose. Trawling the streets of Penang for any new experiences on offer.

The Forest Ranger office was as usual, closed.

But the plants inside were thriving, so someone presumably enters the building occasionally.

The lives of the common man was exposed. An explosion rocked the town - a firecracker in broad daylight.

Grass mowers trimming the herbaceous side-walk beside the cemetery.

A man having lunch in the homes of the departed.

A bus driver beginning his journey around the island.

A couple in conversation.

And me, reaching the foot of the hills which led to my home.

A quick call, and my mum picked me up 45 minutes later.

The World in a Tram

2007-03-11T16:58:00.000+08:00

Charnel, Abeyance, Indubitably, Sepulture, Sepulchral, Suppurating.

It's ranting time again on A Stray World. Pure unadulterated rush of blood-lust to satiate my hunger for vengeance.

Snakes on a plane, to Hong Kong probably;
Real life: Scottish Tourists in Penang.

First matter of the week is the successful reacquisition of of a few not less than 2400 banded rat snakes bound for the dining table of the ravenous Chinese.

Believed to be from Thailand, the hissing reptilians believed themselves saved from the awful fate of experiencing gastronomic disembowelling only to find themselves being auctioned off to be consumed by the same individuals who crave their sacred meat.

Apparently, these snakes are a "protected" species under the Wildlife Act 1972 and the Convention of Endangered Species of Fauna and Flora. Which amounts to a warning letter from the authorities with symbolic punitive measures.

Is there meaning to this outrage?

"We cannot simply release such a great number of snakes into the natural habitat in Penang or anywhere else in the country," says Hasnan Yusop, State Wildlife and National Parks Department director.

But surely that amounts to nothing more than being too lazy to supervise the return of the snakes to their country of origin.

"If the snakes are released into the wild, they might die or breed and become a pest," he added.

Correct me if I am mistaken old chap, but you shouldn't talk about your children that way. I mean, that would be tantamount to calling the entire human race a cancerous plague of flesh devouring parasites.

"We also cannot keep the snakes for long, as we would have problems feeding them. Plus, wild animals in captivity suffer from stress," said Hasnan.

Kid, I know the way people look at you when you walk out of that run-down shoe-store you call a house. However, the Wildlife and National Parks Department, as a government agency, surely receives substantial funding in carrying out its duties to protect all wildlife.

It isn't rocket science. The snakes are believed to be from Thailand.

That means there are fellow banded rat snakes slithering around in Thailand.

That means someone collected them from Thailand.

So it is too much to ask to return the snakes to their homes in Thailand?

"Yes it is," says a G-man. "You know the adage, 'if you can't beat them, join them'? You do? Well, we have changed our enforcement policy from 'we don't give a damn' to 'steal from crime, to profit from crime'."

Isn't that unethical?

"No way! We are the government, we wouldn't do anything illegal or wrong! We will just write a few more federal laws to legalise this campaign."

You mean there is more to come?

"Certainly. We will adapt the 'Endangered Wildlife for Sale" campaign for the "Seized Drugs for Sale" programme. Instead of combating the drug menace, we will start general distribution of any and all forms of therapeutic (Wink! Wink!) medication to the general public."

"We cut out the middleman, generate income for the state, and give good weed at a discount to the public while the bad guys get warning letters and fines. It's a win-win situation if you ask me."

Next up on the menu features some actual, real life encounters with Scottish tourists from your polemic blogger.

Yesterday evening (Sunday), I went along blissfully unaware of the actual objective of heading to the top of Penang Hill with five other blokes (I suppose I shouldn't term the only reed-thin girl in our group a bloke) to get this, snap emotive pictures of Penang hill.

Expecting an expert photographer to accompany us to the top to presumably advise us on the proper manner in which a photo should be taken, we were less than amused when he became, allegedly, too sick to turn up.

At the uppermost station, the team went to a wooden platform overlooking the magma like trails of Penang Island, and proceeded to snap the said scene with cheap digital cameras.

Having experienced the terror of film photography for most of my life (my family still uses film), I was less than amused to discover the lack of any proper cameras to capture te scenes before us.

How do you expect to take good pictures with a camera as flat as and narrow as the PAS government or a half-hearted attempt at a D-SLR with the pretensions of this countries inter-racial harmony.

More events occurred during the night to fuel my growing cynicism regarding the entire affair.

The guys actually started posing the girl and another guy in a seemingly romantic fashion underneath the neon lights along the main trail.

This scene of manufactured pretensions stopped just short of liquefying my internal organs followed by violent retching and paroxysms which would have resulted in a piece of foam-like polymer spread across the black tarmac with a piece of decayed orange where the brain should have been.

Fortunately, the night didn't end on that meaningful note.

While taking the last tram down Penang Hill, I found myself engaging a Scottish couple about topics ranging from global warming, Scots and Irish, Malaysian history of affirmative action, my school holiday, Welsh, and forestry practises in Malaysia.

The slightly weathered middle-aged man was seemingly engaging with the thick Scottish accent making every moment of a conversation an exercise in concentration.

Thankfully, all those hours spent on BBC Entertainment haven't been in vain.

At the middle station, we switched trams, and I found myself with the son of the Scottish couple.

He was the typical backpacker. Having travelled Europe, Russia, Mongolia, China, North Korea, South Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, and now, Malaysia.

He had apparently stumbled into his parents during a leg of his unplanned, carefree journey. Saving up for the trip of his life, he had every right to regale me with tales of buying illegal DVDs in China (apparently, you choose your DVDs by choosing your clothes; just like the agents in Alias) or visiting the DMZ from both ends of the Korean border for a look at what international co-operation means (the North Koreans string up a fence barricade; the South Koreans string up a line of gunmen).

In Cambodia, they use American Dollars for daily transaction, which means our intrepid backpacker found Cambodia to be quite costly!

Yesterday evening, he went up Penang Hill. Yes, I concur, that doesn't sound very appealing, nor exciting.

Depending on the availability of cheap tickets to Japan, his next destination is between Japan, Singapore, and Borneo.

My guess is, he will choose the latter over the other two because visiting Japan alone will be expensive while Singapore is culturally dead (when he asked my opinion of places worth visiting in Singapore, I could only quote the Singapore Science Canter and the operas on Esplanade; not exactly cheap backpacker stuff).

He presumably ends his trip in Australia, where he will reacquaint himself with some distant relations.

We said our goodbyes and I went home to a victorious Koo Kien Keat - Tan Boon Heong.

A happy ending for once.

Of Dignity & Chastity

2007-02-25T17:32:00.000+08:00

Shrift, Transgression, Colliers, Choler, Maidenhead, Pernicious, Posterity, Forsworn, Tetchy, Stinted, Prolixity, Lath, Masque, Alderman, Trencher, Disparagement, Perforce, Prorogue, Distemper

This week on A Stray World:

Cleric recommends chastity belts, group to take up challenge;
More spying Mat Skoding, extra protection for all;
Dr Mohd Asri Zainul Abidin, as good as they get.

"Women should wear chastity belts to prevent rape, incest and other sex crimes," said Abu Hassan Din Al Hafiz, alledgedly prominent Muslim Cleric during a speech on the 16th of February in Terengganu.

That was the absolutely brilliant idea pushed to the forefront as a result of substantial surveys and follow-ups conducted by the coalition of Muslim clerics.

The greater incidences of rape as a result of provocative clothing, a postulation that has since met its end has resulted in a commendable backtrack by the conservative clerics.

Realising their foolhardy mistake, they have embarked on a separate branch of thought, that it is the men that are to be blamed when women are raped, as opposed to their former postulation, where the women are blamed when women are raped.

Just what exactly is a chastity belt? What form does it take?As one may observe from the image above, there are two holes at opposite ends of the metallic strap for the passing of body wastes. Sharp edges prevent the insertion of the male appendage for sexual pleasure. Sexual gratification through other means though, seem probable given the relative size of the holes.

This medieval device demonstrates how effective the common padlock is in securing a woman's dignity, which is exactly what the clerics are aiming for.

It is therefore rather perplexing on their part when public outcry against the device has pushed them once more, back to the drawing board.

It is rather interesting to note, chastity belts are rather popular in Indonesia. This is a country who's inhabitants have displayed acute flexibility and pragmatism in their willingness to purchase chastity belts.

Rather than fret about the inanities of the inhabitants of this nation, we move on to another topic that has gripped the nation amid a sudden economic boom - the Mat Skoding.

Terengganu State Islam Hadhari and Welfare Committee chairman Datuk Rosol Wahid, suggests the establishment of a respected body of busy-bodies to weed out men and women who commit immoral offences. Such as the khalwat, or close proximity offence.

Among the advantages attributed to the formation of the Mat Skoding are,

reduction in cases of men and women dating;
reduction in cases of men and women copulating; and
reduction in cases of men and women getting married.

Obviously, the Mat Skoding themselves must display nothing but the most admirable of human qualities. To achieve this end, the Terengganu government has seized upon the previously defunct idea of chastity belts and have issued a state directive for all Mat Skoding to attire themselves with the "armour of dignity".
The above picture would be an example of this joint venture between the state government and BDSM entities across our fair nations borders.

Mat Skoding who fail to purchase a chastity belt of their own will be compelled to make their own.

With their morality firmly secured, the people can rest assured, the person video-taping your movements is certainly dignified to the extreme.

The final article of the day features none other than the rising star of the state clerics, Dr. Mohd Asri Zainul Abidin.

He has given the following suggestions to legalise khalwat detecting:

THE operation must not stir the development of tajassus (spying to find fault) offences in Muslim society and as such the informer has to ascertain that he/she actually saw or heard the offence being committed;
THE operation itself must not be conducted merely to spy for the sake of finding fault;
THE operation must not be based on doubtful information;
THE enforcement authority should not encourage people to lodge complaints on actions which can cause embarrassment among Muslims, and in this case the practice of giving rewards to informers in close proximity cases should be stopped;
DETAILS of the offence committed should not be revealed prior to sentencing; and,
OPERATIONS which are deemed to have adverse effects like infringing on the individuals' rights and privacy; an operation suspected of being carried out with malicious intent and creating hatred towards the religious enforcement agency should be abandoned.

Yes folks. This is the one who will bring all Malaysian Muslims into the 22nd century. The fact that he drew up the guidelines one must adhere to while snooping is not more significant than the actual acceptance of the act.

Well, I suppose this is as good as they get.

Chinese New Year 07

2007-02-18T15:56:00.000+08:00

And we are back. It turns out the troubled landline dial tone was due to Telekom's (Malaysian telecommunications giant, by monopoly) new voice mail service for landlines.

After a technician came by and declared the phone lines were fault free, I decided to do some belated fiddling to the dial-up settings on my loyal 7-year-old Windows ME machine.

Changed from tone dial to pulse dial = no dial tone detected.

Unchecked the box to dial after detecting dial tone = Incorrect password

Frustrating isn't it. One month after my last visit to the web using my TmNet account and after solving a relatively easy but befuddling problem, and these pigs tell me my password is incorrect!

Who do we summon in this time of need?

Our clan know of one weapon,
Who's power is so great, company CEO's have offered free gifts to salve its murderous anger,
Who's ferocity is such, that pimply-faced office boys face death by the end of scissor blades at a word wronged,
And who's price is high, to the point our clansmen wield it at risk of eternal damnation,
My mother.

Six hours later, I was on-line, updating my anti-virus definitions and spyware protection lists.

Since this is my first post for a very long time, and on the first day of Chinese New Year at that, expect not white lies, foul knave, for thy words draw wounds on the soul, not carvings on webpages.

A time of peace and new beginnings shall commence, with the path of eternal rest still dimmed, shall we all seek the one tunnel to return us to sanity, and freedom.

Have a meaningful Chinese New Year.

Dearly Departed

2007-01-18T14:59:00.000+08:00

Final Dead of the Week: 71
Final Death Toll (Since 12th Jan 2006): 1047

I leave it to you, ladies and gentlemen, to ponder on the grotesque nature of the mass media.

For more or less a year, I have faithfully logged the number of humans flatlining on television. Whether their death was as graceful as a lump of clotted blood stuck in the brain, or being chewed to pulp by giant bugs, one things for certain - a creative and sadistic method of murder and torture, should that be my intention, is mostly guaranteed.

How would you like to drown in a puddle 3cm deep, that can be arranged.

What about - hold on, I might be indirectly incriminating myself in any future homicides.

And on that suspicious note, I end today's entry.

P.S. My monitor is still dead, so I got a new one. However, as fate would have it, my phone's dial-tone has mutated into a heartbeat from a dead tone.

This funnily enough means I can make calls from my landline, but the modem interprets the beeping dial-tone as silence.

This post was published from stolen bandwidth at an international organization.

And The End

2006-12-19T18:18:00.000+08:00

My monitor flickered,
Then it whimpered,
Before it turned black,
Now hit the sack!

Folks, I'm sorry. But its nigh impossible for me to update my post with a dead monitor. So until then, A Stray World will be on hold.

Unless of course, someone out there wishes to contribute articles.

Only requirement:
You have to write parodies.

Happy non-denominational Winter Holidays and a Happy New Year.

Fashionable Joys

2006-12-10T19:14:00.000+08:00

Poulaines, Egress, Ingress.

This week on A Stray World:

Storming Doha, Koo Kien Keat - Tan Boon Heong;
KBMC No Longer Tolerates Indecent Dressing, Fines for Out of Season Attires;
Kota Baru, Kuantan Most Porn Surfers, State Governments Declare Success.

Good day, and welcome to your weekly edition of A Stray World. We begin our coverage with the mostly underachieving badminton squad in Doha.

From the day I was born, badminton has always occupied a special place in my heart, even after my friendly neighbours actively isolated me from their social activities which included the sport.

For the first few years, I grew up with the mistaken impression that my generation's badminton players were world beaters. However, 18 long years of defeat after defeat (with occasional, rare victories) has left me understandably, less than hopeful of a success in Doha.

Every time I read "Malaysia hopes to avoid China" in the sports section of The Star, I can't help voicing my thoughts out loud: "If we are world beaters, why must we actively seek avoiding the strong teams?"

Fortunately, the wait for genuine success finally ended for me early this morning.

The young pair of Koo Kien Keat - Tan Boon Heong clinched gold in the doubles event; after destroying the world champions from China, and two formidable and respected Indonesian pairs.

Genuine success! I haven't felt this happy since the Republicans lost the mid-term elections.

Though it was almost two hours after midnight, I was punching and kicking the air with every point earned, earned!

Congratulations to the lads! I hope this won't be a one time only performance. Remember Hafiz and the All-England Tournament?

Back to stately affairs, we focus our lenses on Kelantan, the most Taliban-like state in Malaysia.

Due to intolerable fashion sense, the Kota Baru Municipal Council (KBMC) has taken the unenviable task of fining repeat offenders.

"These women are courting disaster," said a low ranking official from the KBMC. "When I was Afghanistan, the women dressed in-season all year round. Their all black and all blue burqas were stunning to say the least. The heavy black cloth covered every square centimetre of their body, hiding their feet, eyes and hair."

When pointed out these raiment were standard attire ever since the Taliban regime came to power, he had this to say: "Don't you know, black burqas have been the in-thing for the past 10 years. We are only trying to catch up."

He continued: "The things women wear these days are completely disrespectful to Islam. The clothes they wear now are clearly too comfortable. We men of Kelantan have to avert our eyes whenever one of these prostitutes strays in front of us. While the t-shirt, skirt, jeans, headscarf and Mickey Mouse socks cover the skin, we can identify them from the bulges in the fabric that they are female. We want to ensure these women resemble walking bedsheets as much as possible to prevent them from becoming objects of beauty and desire.

Ultimately, we want them to follow our commands so they won't be attacked or raped by law-abiding men. The fact that we are even talking about this subject shows how much we care about the dignity and respect of women.

Ask yourself, don't you think the men of Al-Qaeda are a lucky bunch when they don't have hear that utterly hateful question: Honey, do I look fat in this dress?"

On a separate note, Google Trends just released a report on porn related search in Malaysia.

Evidently, Kota Baru and Kuantan top the list for most porn related search.

State officials have taken this opportunity to congratulate themselves on not just bridging the technological gap between the traditionally backward East Coast states and West Coast states, but trumping the West for the very first time.

"We are so proud of ourselves, we couldn't have achieved this without everybody's contribution," said a state religious official. "For may years, I have always whipped my sons whenever I see them looking at naked women, now I regret those awful moments... Knowing now I should have been more supportive of his behaviour.

"I know. I will begin browsing those sites too from today onwards," said another state official. "The report even says Kelantanese use English terms such as 'sex' and 'porn' while the other states only use Malay terms. Some states even displays specific searches targeting Malay women. This shows the people of Kota Baru, the first Islamic City in Malaysia, are more open-minded than the people in other states. This also vindicates our state governments active gender discrimination policy, which seeks to wipe out women or anything resembling the female anatomy from the streets of Kelantan."

There are, however, a few disgruntled voices from the Kelantanese.

"I don't go for porn," a bold teenager stated. "My dad and his pals have been doing it for years. Ever since the state government issued edicts preventing my mother from undressing, my father and other husbands have been forced to 'seek the female form' elsewhere."

"They tried Thai prostitutes," he continued, "but the state government arrested him. Now he knows better, he surfs for porn using my Internet account."

Dead of the Week: 14
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 976

See the Light

2006-12-03T17:34:00.000+08:00

Scoliosis, modus vivendi, Dialectics, Assignation, Simoon, Tarn, Idolatrous.

This week, on A Stray World:

Rufaqa Corp, a Study of a Study.

Modern society is a pain in the perineum. Therefore, it is understandable why people would slip into the comforting cot of religion to seek solace and meaning to the inanities of life.

Religion, no doubt, has been a huge contributor to humanity's follies, and successes.

Follies:The crusades, Al-Qaeda, Iraq, Tamil Tigers, Pope Benedict and his misquoted reading of the evils of Islam.

Successes:Mother Theresa, Dalai Lama.

As they say, things come and go, and that has been the way in the evolution of religion. First came deitified inanimate objects, e.g., Ayer's Rock. Then, god organizations, e.g., Zeus, his wife Hera, his children, stepchildren, brothers and sisters etc.

Finally, we were introduced to the soloists.

After a few thousand years of warfare as a direct result of religious differences, we have finally found peace in warfare as a direct result of religious differences.

It is therefore, quite understandable why the powers that be would wish to put an end to the development of new religions.

As ancient history has shown, how the image of Buddha was adopted from the Greek god Apollo, Al-Arqam adopted an image of Islam.

Al-Arqam, and its succesor, Rufaqa' Corporation, are centred around Ashaari bin Muhammad bin Idris bin Ali bin Malae bin Abdul Kadir (AbMbIbAbMbAK).

According to his personal website on www.rufaqa.com, AbMbIbAbMbAK was a person born of noble blood, which means no cattle blood had ever been introduced into his family, unlike the rest of us.

Apparently, a well known but unheard of teacher of Islam predicted after his death, all of us would be as aimless as motherless chicks until the appearence someone named Ashaari...

After a few decades, a boy was born, and he was named Ashaari after daddy dreamt about an island. He grew up in the unmodernized village of Kampung Pilin.

Just like the ancient fable of racial unity through selected injustice the government has foisted onto us, Pilin was an untouched Utopia. Here, in a rural impoverished stretch of dirt where any hope of watching The Sound of Music died like birds with SARS, the villager's children are equally shared.

Everyone in the village was a parent, and any child may be apprehended and beaten while tied to the end of an ox.

In abject poverty, these people would cannibalize the weak until trees bore fruit, where they would become docile creatures upholding the traditional Malaysian values of giving and sharing the bounty.

By the time AbMbIbAbMbAK was 17, he had learnt everything he needed to know about life in a creepy rural village.

He went to the best school he could think of, pre-9/11 Arabian school. After attaining his Certificate of Enlightenment, AbMbIbAbMbAK decided it was time he became a leader to all the motherless chicks in Miami.

A wrongly purchased plane ticket later, AbMbIbAbMbAK set foot on the godless land of Malaysia, where he began running his "true path of God" business through Al-Arqam.

Soon, the Malaysian government and their misguided Islamic arm declared AbMbIbAbMbAK's teachings as deviationist, and with the grace of another god, pulverized Al Arqam in 1994.

AbMbIbAbMbAK though was a man possessed. He would not give up his vision of leading motherless chicks. Rufaqa' Corporation was established in 1997, and by practising the tenets found in God's Guide to Business for the Carzy and Maimed, saw his company grow by 1000% every year (at the expense of a few praiseworthy people who willingly parted with their life savings for a reach-god-quick-scheme).

Rufaqa expanded worldwide, and held nasheed concerts throughout the world. Even Prime Minister John Howard was touched by the soul enhancing and human illuminating concerts in Australia.

Rufaqa also busied itself holding brainwashing camps for young men and women and creating AbMbIbAbMbAK approved developments throughout the country.

It has also launched a book detailing the miraculous birth and life of AbMbIbAbMbAK, handicraft approved by AbMbIbAbMbAK, herbs patented by AbMbIbAbMbAK and AbMbIbAbMbAK friendly tourist packages.

So after exhibiting nothing but excellent acumen in business and a life lived in the image of god, the government has seen fit to shut AbMbIbAbMbAK down once more.

But fret not, like that cynical god-bashing skeptic who believes in the natural predisposition for all living things to freely select mates with preferable traits to be passed on to their children and eventually incorporated into the species so they may adapt more successfully into their environment, AbMbIbAbMbAK will be back.

Dead of the Week: 11
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 962

Free Flight

2006-11-26T19:49:00.000+08:00

Prophylactic, Obstreperous, Alacrity, Couturier, Gallivant.

This week on, A Stray World:

RM 47million Heist, Microchips Believed to be in Malaysia.

Only one issue makes it to the frontal lobes of your polemic authors brain this week. There are other issues of interest, but since watching CSI, I have been conditioned into a completely impartial observer which has deprived me of any ability to clear anyone of innocence or guilt in the Mongolian Murder case.

MPK councilors have been sworn in, but it is a non-issue because they will most certainly carry out their duties in a responsible manner by serving the public interest.

That leaves us with what has been said to be the biggest heist ever in Malaysian history.

Early Tuesday, four men dressed in RELA uniforms sashayed into the MASKargo Complex on the grounds on illegal immigrant hunting, a popular pastime here in Malaysia.

You see, illegal immigrant hunters do not require warrants or licenses to carry out their raids, since our nation practises a zero illegals at all costs policy.

Occasionally, white people are targets of these volunteer groups because they are married, not Muslims, and sleep together.

These white folk even have the gall to promote this country to their fellow countrymen! Don't they know school children in Malaysia are taught to write pengaruh budaya Barat (Western Culture) as one of the main reasons why criminals are multiplying, dissenting opinions threatening national harmony are being aired and reality singing contests are producing effeminate, impotent singers.

Back to the pseudo-RELA officers.

These elite team penetrated the heavy defenses of MASKargo to quite literally open the doors for the Greek army waiting outside.

Even MASKargo security, consisting a 2.000 strong army failed to mount any credible resistance to the 20 strong invaders.

Lo and behold! It turned out the group of robbers belonged to non other than the imfamous Mamak Gang, whose fearless skill and ingenious strategies rival the Gays and Lesbians Gang of America and the Chocolate Nutcases of France.

The no guns policy laid down by their commanders meant they could only use non deadly chloroform and white milky substances to subdue the workers.

Security officers from MASKargo had this to say:

"We weren't allowed to lay down security measures. How could we have guarded the facility?"

"It's not my fault. It's my mother who did it!"

"Heist? (yawn...) There was a heist?"

Dead of the Week: 7
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 951

The Rotten Stem of the Tongue

2006-11-20T13:07:00.000+08:00

Chronobiology, Rumbustious

This week, on A Stray World:

Gasing in Space, a Malaysian First;
UMNO and the Great Agenda.

Malaysians nationwide rejoiced as the government revealed a planned experiment to test for harmful gases below the Spacecraft Maximum Allowable Concentration (SMAC) index.

Certain items may give off gases that under earthly conditions, remain harmless. In space though, the polar opposite may occur, where wooden objects like a certain Malay wooden toy known as the gasing in its native language may become a biological time bomb.

The same applies for the batu seremban and very much so for the durian (which certainly exceeds the SMAC with what some have described as rotten cheese with caramel.)

This explains why the Malaysian astronaut will be testing out these items when he finally reaches space.

Come on, no government except North Korea would consider playing traditional games in space at the cost US$ 25 million in hard cash and US$900 million worth of jet fighters.

That will be ludicrous beyond belief!

Had I read something like that in a nationally published English daily, I would have laughed till blood came out of my nose.

As our intrepid reporter Ahn Ser Mi found out while skirting the high-end streets of Kuala Lumpur, many actually failed to read between the lines.

Lu: "They are going to play gasings in space? We are a muhibbah nation, they should be playing go and doing the silamban too!"

Akim: "We have a space program that will eventually lead us to the Astrolympics. Way cool."

Moving on.

The UMNO General Assembly is a mildly respectable event for Malay leaders to air their concerns and views.

Being the majority race with limitless power, it is therefore understandable that these group of people need never be afraid of controversial views.

This offers a unique opportunity to bring true change to the country.

For reasons of brevity and amusement, I will now combine all the most productive and supported views during this illuminating event.

"We must stay strong and united as a single entity under the all uniting banner of Islam and Malay Rights.

We will always allow the freedom of religion for the other races but prevent our own from being contaminated with these inferior religions. After all, Islam is the One and True path to God. All non-Muslims therefore must realise Islam supersedes all other religions and to call it equal in stature would be seditious and detrimental to national harmony.

We must also unite in protecting one of our own. Even though the Datuk erred in his placement of his illegally built palace, we shouldn't let the other races attack him as an attack on him is an attack against UMNO. To our fellow brethren who have joined forces with these people, you are hereby branded traitors and will shortly be visited by the Parliamentary Whip.

Due to the recent uproar over the bumiputra stake, we have also confirmed rumours that our actual target is over 70% control of the nations economy. As soon as this target is reached, we will then aim for 99% control of the nation's economy and not 100% because we know the other races still need the 1% to survive.

We also state our moderate policies are for the benefit of all. For many long years, we have continued to ignore pollution, unsustainable development, and waste management and we strive to continue to ignore these issues so we may all discuss the equal distribution of wealth in this country.

Thank you and long live Tanah Melayu!"

Dead of the Week: 61

Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 944

Teeth

2006-11-12T19:16:00.000+08:00

Contranym, Bandolier, trompe l'oeil, Swill, Lanyard, Hummel.

In our quest to rid this world of evil, this week, A Stray World looks at a recent debate in Malaysia and how they will shape the world for the better; and a frivolous article for reasons known only to me.

Bangsa Malaysia: the Ambiguous Dream;
The Dissection of Japanese Anime

Courtesy of The Star:

JOHOR BARU: The implementation of a wrongly interpreted concept of Bangsa Malaysia will jeopardise the stability and Constitution of the country, Johor Mentri Besar Datuk Abdul Ghani Othman said.
In his policy speech at the Johor Umno convention, Abdul Ghani questioned the need for the different races in the country to be ethnically diluted or mixed up (dileburkan untuk menjadi rojak) merely for a concept that was still hazy in its meaning.
“After 49 years of Independence, we should be mature enough not to try and introduce vague and unclear concepts.
“The term Bangsa Malaysia continues to be lauded by our friends under the name of unity and understanding without proper thought for its definition,” he said.
He reiterated that even if the term Bangsa Malaysia had to be used, it should be limited to the definition of the people of Malaysia with the Malays as the main race.
Abdul Ghani said that the Constitution did not encompass the concept of Bangsa Malaysia with the only definition of the different races being “Malays, Sarawak and Sabah bumiputeras as well as other races”.

After reading through that, I am inclined to agree that's where we are heading. After all, what's a future without a bit of honest fragmentation.

Don't believe me? Then take a look at the recent US mid-term elections.

Basically, these purveyors of democracy and freedom have produced some of the most racy um... material since the Klu Klux Klan.

There's the Republican ad targeting Harold Ford Jr. which implies black men steal white women from dirty white men.

Now, how different is that from the governments policy of taking a compulsory 30% stake in any non-Malay owned company (which means a non-Malay established the company).

Oh right, one is trying to portray a minority taking a majority while our local version is about the majority stealing from the minority.

See, if a modern developed nation known for democracy actively seeks to divide the people based on their skin colour, what's wrong with doing the same thing here?

Dividing people does have a proven track record. Observe how the good old British Imperialists divided India into India and Pakistan.

Yes, they were oh so right. Gandhi was soooooo wrong. Two people of differing faiths could never co-exist in peace and harmony. You need to cut them up, paint them different shades of yellow ochre, then steal money from one to give to the other.

For that, is the way to harmony.

Moving on.

Independence Day this year was special cubed because of the official launch of Animax.

Without wasting bandwidth, here are my top picks:

Jigoku Shoujo
It means hell girl. The premise is if you have a grudge against someone, for the price of being sent to hell upon death, you may send the said person to hell immediately.

The hooker: What would compel anyone to pay the ultimate price?

The moral lesson: I will never hold a grudge against anyone ever again.

The Law of Ueki
The story: Guy gets power to turn trash into trees by a candidate for God.

Apparently, God is retiring and He has chosen to hold a bizarre competition where tomatoes become lava bombs and foreheads turn into diamonds to choose His successor.

The hooker: Seeing a guy fighting by turning trash into trees.

The moral lesson: Always pick up trash lying on the ground. You never know when it might come in handy.

Gunslinger Girl
The story: A secret Italian government agency "fixes" broken girls; then trains them to become the perfect cyborg killers.

The hooker: We are looking at the perfect killer. Even if one of them is pointing a sub-machine gun in your face, could you shoot a child?

How wrong is that?

The lesson: Many. It's a social satire, you have to see it for yourself.

That's all for now, hope I'm still publishing next week.

Dead of the Week: 15
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 883

Waking Up

2006-11-05T19:19:00.000+08:00

Perfunctory, Lariat, Mirthful, bon vivant, Extirpation, Rector, Quiescent, Libertine, Dissolute, Riposte, Percolate, Callipygian, Internist, Parable, Elision, Pernickety, Oleaginous.

It has been a while, hasn't it. Who would have thought the UPS unit I purchased for my PC wouldn't protect it from a blackout?

But, to quote the Menok-i Khrat:

"...though one be armed with the valour and strength of wisdom and knowledge, yet it is not possible to strive against fate."

I am using a six-year old computer running Windows ME. Statistical data meant the probability of my computer experiencing a nervous breakdown was long overdue.

It amazes me how quickly things have changed since logging out of the cyber world - it took me one week to catch up.

But hey! I am now proudly surfing the web on the spanking-new Firefox 2.0 while writing my blog using the Performancing add-on.

The main draw: A built in spell checker!

Animax has finally arrived on Astro (local satellite broadcasting network), meaning I have nothing more to look forward to in life.

You see, logging off from the Internet forced me to take a break from the sorrows of the world to my own woes.

Your confidence in the inherent "goodness" that lies in this world is pummeled into wood pulp when you realise humanity just doesn't deserve to exist.

Here we are, on the threshold of complete annihilation as a result of mismanaged resources, global warming, famine, extinction and poverty, and all our elders can think about is how much money we will be losing.

It would be wise to remember money is but an abstract representation of power, not the essence of power.

This week, my Form Six end of the year examinations begin - don't wish me good luck.

The entire exercise is as you recall, meaningless work.

I will be striving (actually, my mates will be striving) to earn good results from the MUET, Biology, Chemistry, Mathematics and PA papers.

For two years, we will be expected to do nothing but study these subjects.

And by study, I mean no television, no Internet, no books (other than the above mentioned subjects), no friends, no outings, no life.

We certainly are learning a lot.

Dead of the Week: 116
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 868

Gone But Not Forgotten

2006-09-29T18:07:00.000+08:00

My computer is dead;
A blackout, a brownout,
Its lost its head.

Until the heir,
A Stray World will be in limbo.

Oh brothers wise and fair,
Look on with hands akimbo.

On Caprice

2006-09-17T17:33:00.000+08:00

Concomitants, Labyrinthine, Seguidilla, Spiel, Debar, Abut, Pellucid, Tenon, Mortise, Prandial, Remit, Subsume, Fratello, Cloying.

This week, on A Stray World:

The STPM, The Staple Torture of Pondering Men;

"The great revamp, it's coming! It's coming!" argues an incredulously optimistic lad. He believes the government knows what is best, and that all adults should continue voting for the same political party till the end of time.

Believe it or not, those sentiments are the general direction of my thoughts during Form One.

Things have changed now that I am in Form Six. Since those dark days of complete subservience, I have renounced government, god and gratification. I shall christen these my 3-ve G's.

Now that I have grown an adult brain, I will attempt to reconstruct the very situation which resulted in the creation of the STPM.

In a dark and dilapidated room, a man holding a dart sits on his wheelchair staring up at the picture of his ungrateful son.

With a swift throw the man plunges the needle of the dart into his son's forehead.

"You know what, let's make it harder for students to enter university," said the man to the then Education Minister. "Maybe they will be more grateful to us parents and continue the family coffin-making business after they realise its too damn hard to achieve straight-A's."

"Sure," said the minister, who was incidentally planning a way to give the bumiputra's further advantages in education.

And poof, we have the STPM. An examination whose sole purpose is to frustrate generations upon generations of students deemed unworthy of choosing the subjects they wish to study.

While the bumiputras receive a virtually guaranteed university ticket through their one year matriculation courses (some swift ones via SPM results), the unfortunate too-brilliant for their own good student community with slightly paler skin tones took their knowledge elsewhere.

While the incredible debts to MARA piled up, the other Malaysians, alienated by their own place of birth, took to the skies, and never came back.

Back on Earth, a new generation of STPM candidates prepare themselves for two more years of meaningless work.

Meaningless work, noun. Definition: Commonly referred to huge investments in time and energy to something completely unnecessary and meaningless, with the illusion that the person committed to the work is being productive.

Consider this, a sample question of the SAT. The examination almost all American students are required to sit to enter university:

If 44 is the average (arithmetic mean) of x, x, x, 35, and 65, then x =

Wow, I can see now why American universities consider the STPM inferior to the SAT.

So here I am, a candidate for the STPM, where success means scoring straight A's with a 4.0 CGPA and hopefully getting the courses requested in the university of choice.

STPM success also means suppression of the mature mind in favour of those innocent wide-eye childhood years where you consume whatever you are asked to eat.

Failure is when straight A students fail to obtain their courses of choice for no apparent reason other than praying to the wrong god.

This compounded by the fact employers prefer college graduates to their STPM counterparts, although the college kids choose the subjects they wish to study themselves, as opposed to the streaming system of Form Six where the subjects are chosen by the more knowing government.

Questions... Questions... Questions....

Oh well, let's forget about it and continue studying. We simply aren't mature enough to choose yet.

By the way, you might like to try this site, everyday.

Dead of the Week: 11
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 752

Irwin

2006-09-10T17:39:00.000+08:00

Concatenate, Briar, Claptrap, Caravanserai.

"These Hitlers use the camouflage of science to make money out of animals So whenever they murder our animals and call it sustainable use, I'll fight it. Since when has killing a wild animal, eating it or wearing it, ever saved a species?

There are people who butt out their cigarettes in gorilla-paw ashtrays, with wastepaper baskets that were once elephant feet, who have ivory ornaments who wear cheetah fur. Don't buy these things! Then there'll be no market and the animals won't be killed.

We have domesticated livestock raised for consumption and perfectly good fake leather and fur, so why must we kill wild animals to satisfy the macabre taste of some rich person?"

- Steve Irwin

(22 September 1962 - 4 September 2006)

Conservation with action was the way Steve Irwin did his job.

From wrestling alligators on television, buying huge tracts of land for conservation, giving candid interviews on talk shows, to managing Australia Zoo; he didn't just preach conservation, he was conservation.

While the expedient actions of our nation's politicians continue to dumbfound us with their blatantly ludicrous projects, Steve showed us all you didn't need to be a man-in-office to get things done.

You didn't even need RM 400.00 business suits or speak proper English.

Steve Irwin heralded a change in filming nature. While Sir David Attenborough was content with walking through jungles entertaining us with the stories of its denizens, Steve got involved with the stories.

With his death, Mother Nature has lost one of its most outspoken voice.

Sure, good old Steve and his conservation groups are enjoying the greatest windfall ever from his sudden death.

It won't last.

We will soon forget the man, forget the mission, and remember we have wars to fight, forests to burn, mosques to build...

Little wonder why the Perak and Sabah State Government can still carry out unsupervised and approved deforestation practises.

It is a sad fact that no matter how many Steve Irwins are born, people will be more preoccupied with the bust size of the next Hollywood starlet, the littlests squabbles of our neighbours, and the love scandals of our close circle of friends.

It sickens me:

When the people elected never give a thought to the welfare of the environment until it's too late;
When the people choose a neighbouring country's concrete safari over their own parks;
When we stop seeing.

The next time you plan your holiday, take a trip to the Belum-Temenggor National Park.

The reason: You might never see it again.

Dead of the Week: 22
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 741

Realism

2006-09-03T17:17:00.000+08:00

Raffish, Gaudy, Pejorative, Mitigate, Surfeit, Coquette, Eschews, Creolised, Pidgin, Pontificate, Dogmatism, Contiguous, Repast.

This week, on A Stray World:

A Speech

In schools, we are given guidelines on how to write speeches, with the customary greetings, the presentation of facts, and a standard milked dry conclusion.

The fact of the matter is, if you used every principle of writing your teachers or tutors have imparted to write your speech - your audience will be so enthralled, they will take disapprovingly long and frequent toilet breaks throughout your lecture.

With my physical self far away from the nearest television on the 1st of September, I wasn't able to catch Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi's speech.

On the 30th of August, I manage to catch Gandhi, the movie with Ben Kingsley playing the title character. Almost everything he said was quotable, all of his words trenchant, every action meaningful.

This afternoon, on The West Wing, Matt Santos, a Democratic candidate refused to play by the normal rules of demeaning your opponents; instead reiterating why he wanted to become President of the United States, live.

Stating his policies in person.

The power of words lies not in a fabricated template of phrases or terminologies handed to you by your teachers or hired image consultants.

It lies as I have always said, by being passionate about what you are trying to speak or write.

This is starkly apparent when I find myself drawn to the plights of an African speaking broken colloquial English over the smooth, sleek, and ultimately pretentious self-serving speeches of Tony Blair.

I have great respect for a person willing to speak his mind, unadulterated and uncensored, even though I may dislike it.

So even if Khairy Jamaluddin just committed political suicide by intentionally dropping the racial card, I respect him for willing to push the boundaries of 'sensitive issues'.

He may be a racially-charged, Oxford-educated demagogue. But at least he has the balls to say what he thinks must be spoken.

I can't say the same for the rest of the politicians in Malaysia.

A half-a-billion ringgit sporting centre in London, forty-eight million ringgit worth of clothes for government officials are reduced to nothing more than pointless debates - we all know how much the government actually cares about this issues and their remedies.

So here is my challenge:

Let's suspend reality.

Malaysia is a democratic society where anyone can run for Prime Minister.

I am going to write my speech, a speech addressing the nation on why they should elect me as Prime Minister of Malaysia. And after I write my speech, I want you to write yours, or are you too busy with school projects and idle gossips?

My Speech
Greetings everyone, my name is Rewarp, and I am one of the many candidates vying for the post of Prime Minister of Malaysia.

You may not heard of me, and after this short televised interruption of Akademi Fantasia, I am sure you will never hear of me again.

Here is my agenda.

The present government has promised a budget that protects the rights various ethnic communities and safeguards the nations future.

It has given millions hope with a multi-billion ringgit education plan, and improvement of public transports.

To me, promising to protect the rights of every ethnic community is a failure in itself. Why can't we protect the right of the people? Using a single term to describe everyone. To impose no restrictions on a particular group of people with different skin tones and to give no handicaps to another group based on genealogy and belief.

Abdullah may speak of 'towering Malays'. But the only thing towering about them right now are their debts. Unpaid loans the government has kindly dismissed, loans derived from public funding and taxes.

Fuel subsides should be abolished.

This will cause a brief spell of hardship to the people, but think of the chain of events that will inevitably follow.

Research into alternative sources of cleaner energy will accelerate. Taxes on foreign cars with hybrid engines will be dramatically lowered, and the people will return to the days when only using what is necessary is the norm.

Not out-pimping your vehicle with silver hubcaps or expensive spoilers.

Not racing down the streets on modified motorcycles.

I must state here that I am an atheist. Unlike most religious leaders who might walk the thin line of 'holding great respect for every religion" because "we are all praising the same god in different ways", I choose to despise all religion equally, because all they do is to divide.

An undeniable, undesirable truth.

I loathe racial profiling, unless it's for medical reasons.

If you elect me I assure you I will not protect the "rights" of the Bumiputra. I intend to treat every single person in this country equally.

And if you can't accept isocracy, you are free to elect someone else.

Because this is a democratic nation, and it is your right to choose the leaders you want.

It is also your right to nominate yourself as leader, if you feel there are no leaders to your liking.

That, is the meaning of freedom.

Dead of the Week: 212
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 719

I, Rewarp

2006-08-27T16:06:00.000+08:00

Tottered, Rattletrap, Intransigent, Hawkish, Valise, Perineum, Omadhaun, non compos mentis, Schemiel, Dolt, Bungler, Idiomatic, Pecuniary, Tort, Accoutre, Remiss, Diaphanous, Diaphoretic, fait accompli, Calabash, Inure, Eugeroic, Pizzazz.

This week, on a Stray World:

Voyeurs of Rewarp

For quite some time, I have been reminded by one of my close friends Peter Chong, as well as some anonymous poster that they wish to know more about me and my life.

It's a sad fact of human nature that they tend to skim over unpleasant world events in favour of more saucy insights into the lives of insignificant, unimportant and sometimes unsavoury people.

Instead of the usual parody on major events, I am going to do a satirical retelling of my life... Nah, snippets of my life.

Let's begin.

Hi, my name is Rewarp and I like to piss people off. It doesn't matter who I piss off, as long as I piss them off.

I like to begin every post with a string of hard words not because I wish to keep a record of words I learnt during the week - its because I wish to crush the ego of every visitor to my site - you know, exactly like those raggings going on at every new intake at Malaysian universities so the freshmen will feel grateful and lucky for a chance at higher education.

Don't worry, the ragging is only for locals.

I then go on writing my insipid articles on global warming, sob stories, blah, blah, blah... Before writing a paragraph or so of the most interesting part: my life.

I noticed no matter how long, detailed, or funny my articles on major events are; more often than not, the comments generated usually target my life, such as: "Gross, maggots" or "You need a girlfriend".

I have noticed something else.

Popular blogs from Malaysia, I have been led to understand, contain lots of expletives and pictures of pretty girls with saucy phrases.

The following is unsuitable for the immature mind... Or rather, mature mind:

Merde! ScheiÃe! A classy lady all wrapped up. Cazzo in the figa, that's what I would like to do.

But the filho da puta, cacho mierda, vaffanculo, pirla police would throw me into the culo cell.

Well, anyway, she is PopuÂi mi kurac hot man.

Jebi se you coglioni anti-rape law.

Idi u pičku materinu.

(What? You actually expected me to post profanity you can understand immediately without doing research?)
Kurvin sin, man. Kurvin sin.

Well, that should drive up web traffic.

This school holiday, I went about my business. My software company business.

Sold something, did something else, now planning other things, which I can't reveal here because it belongs to the Sautern Enterprise blog.

Kankerlijer school also intruded my gadha life when I had to plan a back-of-dominant-open-handshape-flipped-out-under-chin (profanity-laced phrase using sign language) bug catching field trip where we only manage to capture お前 (omae) small bugs.

The biggest bug in our collection right now is a huge grasshopper not caught during the pinga field trip.

Well, I be usro, I caught it five metres away from the boundaries of my humble jebem ti mater house! I then spent one hour killing, skinning, and winging it.

It was a drawn out process because I like to make living things grovel and suffer through the long, unnecessary pain of hopelessness before snuffing them out.

As I stuck the long hypodermic needle between the anus of the poor impaled creature to inject a fatal, translucent liquid, I hoped to hell the teachers and the education system will never substitute taking digital pictures of the bugs to actually capturing and murdering them.

Besides, I am a sick masochist and a self-diagnosed necrophilic. This is one of those few moments where schoolwork is erogenous.

Why, this evening alone, I enthusiastically disposed the body of one of my pet rabbits which had also attracted the attention of a 1.5-metre long monitor lizard (a scavenger).

I spent one expletive-free hour muscling the creature out of the rabbit enclosure before getting rid of my dead pet.

Of course, I had left the body to set for 24 hours after discovering its dead body because I wanted to reprise the role of those cool CSI guys when they call for the T.O.D. (time of death).

It was all nasty and gross as the body had gone into partial rigor mortis, with various fly species hovering around. Its eyes were still open but only the whites were showing.

C.O.D. (cause of death) is unknown but I suspect it is a result of a broken neck inflicted by another rabbit biting on its neck.

End parody.

I hoped you hated this version of A Stray World.

We return to our irresponsibly-entertaining, profanity and expletive free satirical newscasting next week.

P.S. There are a few truths in this week's edition, just learn to read between the flower-bridge-pronounced-in-Cantonese lines.

Dead of the Week: 27
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 507

Is the Salver Old?

2006-08-20T17:44:00.000+08:00

Chicanery, Carp, Tideway, Malapropos, Emend, Pealed, Nippy, Cavil, Obdurate, Randy.

On this weeks edition of A Stray World:

August 31st: More Pretentious Celebrations in Store;
Bloggers Beware, the Censor-Man is out to get you;
Election 2008: All Nations Qualified.

Hello good people.

As all Malaysians are aware, our Independence Day celebrations are just around the corner. In less than a fortnight, we will all be enjoying fireworks and parades bought with public funds.

Independence: Hardly fought for; hardly forgotten; hardly appreciated.

In close to 49 years of independence, Malaysia has progressed from a fractured, poor country where Malays, Chinese, Indians and other races were divided along racial lines to a fractured, rich country where Malays, Chinese, Indians and other races are given benefits along racial lines.

Of course, as everyone knows, racial discrimination is bad. But a senior politician disagrees, saying it is for the benefit of the country.

"The only reason we have yet to experience a civil war is because of Malaysia's unique racial discrimination policy," replied Datuk A.K.M. to this interviewer's question. "By actively discouraging the Chinese from working hard to achieve their goals, and by giving unprecedented advantages to the Malays, we hope to create a equally wealthy society."

"Sure, this might encourage all the Malays to take a laid back attitude to life, have 20 children on a RM500.00 salary from selling hand-made cakes while the Government siphons off money from the hardworking business community to pay for their upbringing and education, but you can bet your gold plated tombstone everyone will have equal share of the wealth."

To inquiries about the similarity between this system and communism, Datuk A.K.M responded: "Oh, didn't you know? We are basing this on the China's communist government, except, we lean towards the Malays of course. We won't stop until the Malays own at least 30% of every Malaysian company, controls at least 30% of the economy, and 30% of anything else the other races create."

Okay, so we are all about equality, let's leave it at that. But what about the education system since independence? Why do our history books contain 7 chapters on Islam, but only 1 chapter on the other religions?

"Well, obviously, it's because you all are living in an Islamic country. You have to study Islam," replied Datuk A.K.M. "While the other religions had played a part in the country's past, Islam is the latest religion approved by the global community, so we should all study it and admit it is the only truth."

"Regarding Yap Ah Loy, yes he did modernize Kuala Lumpur, in effect creating our country's capital city. But he lied, cheated, manipulated, intimidated, bribed, and fought his way to realize that ambition, so he isn't a very good role model for our impressionable youngsters. So we decided to limit his details to a single paragraph in our history textbooks, highlighting his gang dealings."

Very impressive, so the politicians have decided that dirty politics have no place in this country. What an admirable group of people we have leading us!

What then about other historical subjects not mentioned in our history books? While we have 7 chapters on Islam, we have zero on the Holocaust, zero on the Pol-Pot regime, unfinished story on Singapore, and only the briefest description of the 13th of May incident.

"Oh come on!" snapped Datuk A.K.M. "We shouldn't overload our children with information that will have no bearing on their lives. The important thing is they are all learning about the same thing, and that's as equal as the government can get."

On to the issue of the government's recent decision to hunt down Malaysian bloggers who spread "lies and rumours".

The question is, isn't this an action counterproductive to the Multimedia Super Corridor (MSC) project? Isn't freedom of speech the very basis of the Internet, where its first purpose was to share?

"Nooooo... It isn't isn't counterproductive. The MSC projects are still intact. The bloggers don't run the MSC, they don't run anything," proclaims Datuk A.K.M. "They are spreading lies and rumours that will compromise national security, sow disharmony by asking for complete equality, just like watching too many people committing suicides on tv will make you want to terminate yourself too."

But wouldn't it be better to just ignore the blog posts? Aren't Malaysians mature enough to make their own choices?

"Isn't it a fair deal, we arrest the people asking and giving ridiculous questions for your protection. You don't even need to care whether or not you are mature enough to choose," offers Datuk A.K.M.

To international news, America may finally decide to open their Presidential Election to the International community.

"We have realized for years now that America is the de facto ruler of the world," says Edward Gambal, senior correspondent for the Earth-America Party. "Once we receive approval, EVERYBODY will get to vote for America!"

This all makes perfect sense, seeing as no matter what the United Nations (UN), Non-Aligned Movement (NAM), Organization of Islamic Countries (OIC), and the bodies of the world say, America will always do things her way.

"To ensure America, and thus the world is run by proper hands, we fully support this proposal," said Osama bin Laden, wanted terrorist, on his personal video blog. "When this election is put in place, I will finally be able to realize my childhood dreams of being called President Osama."

This move wouldn't be complete without some opposition, and it comes in the form of the American ranchers.

"We ain't be able to talk like roughnecks no more," said Bill Grant. "And I ain't gonna be allowed to kill more Muslims trespassers on my land."

Happy Independence Day.

Dead of the Week: 16
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 480

Bleak in Black

2006-08-13T15:03:00.000+08:00

Physiognomy, Deleterious, Lout, Cavort, Prole, Lectern, Stultify, Aphorism, Expiation, Typology, Etiology, Hermeneutics, Exogamy, Exculpate, Hagiography, Cathexis, Expedient, Somatic, Exigency, Telos, Monistic, Paunch, Stratification, Wharf, Fretsaw, Mogrify.

My first Sixth Form exams will take place in less than sixteen hours. My current lifestyle depends entirely upon how well I do in these school examinations; therefore, should posts to A Stray World suddenly come to an abrupt halt, it will be wise to assume something unmentionably bad has befallen your faceless polemist.

Since I wish to enjoy the second season of House on AXN, please excuse the brevity of this entry.

The leatherback turtle is extinct, exiled from existence through the exculpated excusable expediency of ma(laysia)n.

Dead of the Week: 27
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 464

Peace Processes

2006-08-06T16:35:00.000+08:00

Curlews, cul-de-sac, Nihilist, Existentialist, Desultory, Edification, Suet, Palatial, je ne sais quoi, Facetious, Madrigal, Svengali, Straddle, Tallow, Epistemology, Abstruse, Culottes, Moquette, Idiosyncratic, Cravat, Dichotomy, Salient, hoi polloi, Rejoinder, Trin, Pathos, Trenchant, Languorous, Expectorated, Lissome, Ruminating, Soignee, Mien, Abortifacient, Mucilage, Traduce, Repudiate, Peltier, Anhidrosis, Execrate, Pillory, Soiree, Short-shifting, Lugubrious, Bearish, Attenuate, Manque, Immoderate.

On this special edition of A Stray World, we explore the minds of President George W. Bush's top aids to find out their alternative top three ways to bring about peace in any conflict, regardless of the reasons; prepared exclusively for the Malaysian audience.

Method 1: Accelerating Mass of Stones and Pebbles

You know, nothing brings humanity closer together than a good old end-of-the-world story. End of the world affairs such as the memorable Armageddon which introduced Aerosmith to Malaysians have proven that in times of great peril, everyone stops fighting and awaits death.

To execute this plan however, we must first identify a suitable Near-Earth object (NEO) as part of our peace process.

Using the data provided by NASA's NEO Program, we will settle for object 2001 UP, a NEO measuring 20 metres to 44 metres which will approach to within 12.3 LD (1 Lunar Distance = 384000 km) to Earth.

Since we are only trying to create a peaceful region and not a peaceful world, a 20 metre to 44 metre object will b e sufficient.

Let's select a region of incessant conflict like, oh I don't know..The Middle-East? We must then select a high-profile target to destroy that brings the best chance of peace.

Remember, this is only a technological upgrade to the current method of blowing-everyone-into -human-fertilizer peace process.

The only target that comes to mind will of course be the contested city of Jerusalem. A place of worship for three religions also happens to be a place of conflict for three religions. The only solution, naturally, is to destroy this evil instigator of war.

By launching a highly dense object close to 2001 UP, the NEO may be guided into the general vicinity of Jerusalem; where it may or may not hit the jackpot.

Either way, prior to the destruction of the city or the settlements around it, news of the event will cause everyone to drop arms, huddle against one another, and engage in mass orgies unseen in this part of the region since Michael Jackson moved to Bahrain.

Depending on the accuracy of the projectile, after the Holy City, or the holy settlements around the holy region is reduced to holy rubble, the (surviving) inhabitants will hopefully remember how enjoyable sex was when they figured the world was coming to an end and never fire another bullet again.

Method 2: Pseudo Tsunami

Building upon my colleague's previous method for bringing everlasting peace, I wish to draw attention to the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004, where separatist factions and the government of Indonesia and Sri Lanka arranged an immediate no-strings-attached ceasefire upon noticing the huge number of dead bodies and debris surfing the waves.

Let's not forget the unprecedented financial, medical, and military aid provided by the international community to the survivors of the natural disaster.

This is a map of the Middle-East:

As you can see, there is a body of water conveniently placed close to the states currently in conflict.

By detonating a nuclear bomb on the pretext of weapons testing, we should be seeing a huge wall of salt water crashing into the coasts of Lebanon and Israel, with the possibility of giving Cyprus a good old wipe-out; a slight peppering of Syria to the North; and if we are lucky, see an early flooding of the Nile.

Think of it as the C-section to the birth pangs of an emerging new Middle East.

Method 3: The Condi Recital

There is little in life more entertaining than watching aggressive politicians known for their Mona-Lisa-after-vinegar-smile with specious arguments of birth-pangs displaying the results of piano lessons forced upon them by their parents.

It is during these moments that we truly understand why they will suck more than a hospital-grade rental electric breast pump if they should release an album.

By calling upon the Bush Administration to organise a "Calls for Immediate Ceasefire" concert with the United Nation's and ASEAN's ongoing "We Strongly Urge, Condemn, and Understand" bake sale, this author hopes to unite the peoples of the Middle East to enjoy the greatest tomato pelting, ginger-ale quaffing food fight on the planet.

Due to the close proximity of the proposed event to the Dead Sea, various pickled collector items will be found on market shelves worldwide soon after the peaceful event.

All proceeds will of course, be used to rebuild wartorn countries raped by generations of war.

Think of it as the baby shower held after a particularly hard pregnancy where the father was locked up in prison with a glass shrapnel embedded in his right eye.

P.S. My security advisor advised me to lay low for a while last week due to my weakened physical condition as a result of a four-hour 22 kilometre exertion during last Sunday's Penang International Bridge Marathon.

Fortunately, the beer chugging assassin sent to finish me off couldn't find his way to LAX and ended up inebriated and stranded somewhere in Nebraska.

P.P.S. Regarding the recent decision by the Malaysian government to betray its promise not to censor the web; I can only say if I am arrested for this entry, or for any previous entry, it will be wise to conclude that these people lack the ability to distinguish between satire and truth - which are both very different things...

Dead of the Week: 26
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 437

Middle Eastern Nights

2006-07-23T18:55:00.000+08:00

Agglomeration, Tinctorial, boudoir, Proscribe, Conflation, Melisma, Serology, Specious, Ostrobogulous, Aprosexia, Paraprosexia, Hyperprosexia, Asseclist, Onolatry, Iotacist, Criticaster, Macilent, Entermete, Oxter, Nithing, Isocracy, Kakistocracy, Sarvodaya, Satisdiction, Logomachy, Esoteric, Eustress.

Hello boys and girls. Today, we enter the magical Middle-Eastern Kingdom, where our valiant prince, who doesn't exist, fights to save his princess, who prefers not to be saved.

Once upon a time, there lived two Israelis.

When they were boys, they decided they wanted to protect their family from 'The Others', who had fought many short and brutal wars with their kings for many, many years.

For many, many years, they saw their king fighting with the most powerful of 'The Others', known as Yasser Arafat. Imbued with the powers of the magical Hatredstone, which is passed on to every Israeli at least once in their lifetime, the two boys joined the army, determined to destroy 'The Others' once and for all.

As they grew up, both men fought in the many sporadic battles, which were used as a rite of passage by Israel. In their culture, a boy would never become a man if he couldn't hate, if he couldn't kill...

In one of the countries in the Ring of Deserts, otherwise known as 'The Others' to the people of Israel, a middle-age man, wise beyond his years, and ruler of his people, sat alone in his palace listening to the screams and explosions beyond the iron grated windows.

There was nothing he could do to silence the screams for help, of pain, and of death. He could only listen, and with the magical device created by a sorcerer from times past known as a tv, watch his people suffer and die.

You see, the ruler was only the ruler of some of his people - for there were others who were only his people by name...

Weeks ago, the two Israeli soldiers, emboldened by the continual support of their allied nation, The Land Beyond the Sea, prepared for an increased assault on 'The Others' with the latest weapons provided by their king.

But as they were preparing for a first salvo into the country of 'The Others', people around them suddenly ducked and pulled out their guns.

The two soldiers did the same, but alas, it was too late. For, a group of heavily armed men had surrounded them, and were pulling them towards the dreaded land beyond.

Their screams for help fell on deaf ears, for the fighting was now a long distant away, beyond the ruined brick walls and sand dunes.

Now, the ruler of Lebanon, the country in which the two soldiers were being held, paced his office. A menagerie of aids followed him, throwing all sorts of suggestions and petitions. Telling of more death and destruction. Asking him for answers.

But he couldn't give any answer which would satisfy them.

For, it wasn't his people who had brought the wrath of the wretched cancer that was Israel. It was Hezbollah's doing, a virus-like network of cults who had kidnapped the two Israeli soldiers.

He tried to explain to the Israelis - but all they could offer was an advance warning to his people to abandon their homes before they struck at suspected Hezbollah hideouts.

But how could a ruler do that? They had chosen him to protect them, yet, now he was being forced to order them to abandon their homes.

The people of Lebanon were mostly poor factory workers, or menial laborers. It took them half their lives before they could own a house of their very own. Half their lives to build a family to fill those homes. Half their lives which meant next to nothing to the bullets and mortar shells that now pierced it.

In a flash, all they had built were now gone.

Their walls were now white pebbles, their roofs now air, their children now earth.

They didn't deserve this. They didn't make this mess, yet, it is they who pay the bloody sacrificial price.

Today, over 1500 have died as a result of this war. And it is simply a war repeated over the ages.

There will be no happy ending in this story.

For anyone.

Dead of the Week: 19
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 411

Group Men

2006-07-16T17:14:00.000+08:00

Sylph, Contusion, Concretion, Circumlocution, Sophomore, Gouge, Foment, Gammon, Albedo, Salp, Miscegenation, sine-qua-non, Hackneyed, Tractate, Hubris.

On this week's episode of A Stray World:

Malaysian High Performance Training Centre's (HPTC) an intelligence installation;
Israel goes to war with Lebanese civilians, offers a 7-for-17 deal;
Bush and Putin, an intimate evening.

Welcome to our weekly (slightly fake) pondering of world events. We start of with the much publicized and criticizes HPTC, which is to be based in London.

There has been much public outcry against the half-a-billion project proposed by the National Sports Council to give the best athletes in the country a chance to rub shoulders with the most famous athletes (whether active or not) in the world.

This also fulfils one of the nations goals which is to spend public funds on at least one project that is doomed to fail every year. A prime example of this successful failure is the very unpopular Tak Nak campaign.

The true objective of this grand investment in thin air however, is much, much, more important than any other project ever built in Malaysian history - as our undercover team has discovered.

According to our trusted sources, the NSC's true objective is to build an offshore intelligence agency where our country's best athletes are honed into our country's best liars.

"We know talent when we see one, and it's not good to waste talent," said a man who wanted to be interviewed facing our correspondent's back. "Tell me if you know of any other major group of individuals with more potential to become spies?"

Evidently, our nations athletes have been living a double life as under-achieving sportsmen during the day (or night depending on the event), and as elite government spies in between tournaments.

"Our athletes are our best candidates for infiltrating foreign government institutions; not just because they are the fittest people available for active duty, but also because of their tendency to be overlooked by foreign governments because of their under-achievements."

In fact, that is the exact reason our athletes don't usually excel on the international front. As soon as they are inducted into the national squad, they are compelled to under-achieve to keep a low profile when visiting foreign lands.

The HPTC will allow our athletes-cum-spies to infiltrate the British government anytime they feel like it, not that anyone would notice.

With that, A Stray World's editing team hopes to put to rest the other under-normal circumstances, suspicious course of actions such as approving a project without even disclosing the exact price.

To Lebanon, where Israel has struck a bargain with the Lebanese proletariat.

In a milestone event, Israeli spokesman Sid Humbug has announced a seven-for-seventeen deal, in which for every 7 Israelis killed by Hezbollah, the Israelis will kill another 17 Lebanese civilians.

"This is a great day, where we have proven that negotiations for peace will have a slight chance for peace if they should ever take place," said Humbug.

"The days of an-eye-for-an-eye are over!" proclaimed Mezupman, the Hezbollah spokesperson in a joint statement with Humbug.

"We must all understand that the value of human lives has changed a lot in the 21st century," said Humbug. "There was a time when overvalued and undervalued items were traded in equal quantities. We WILL NOT allow this to happen in this war!"

According to the press release, the 7-17 deal, as it is known, takes into account the fact that Hezbollah fighters consist of fanatical suicide bombers while Israeli soldiers are heavily protected by body armour and rarely get killed by terrorists.

"We hope this deal will bring our countries closer together. But for now, we will each accept the other with open arms."

To reinforce the solidarity of the new pact, Mezupman promptly fired a single bullet right between the eyes with Humbug's gun, thus making the quota of the day.

Finally, our hidden cameras in a men's lavatory on the fifth floor of a renowned Russian hotel caught stunning footages of Bush holding a closed-door meeting with Putin.

Here's the unedited transcript from the meeting:

Bush: You know, if you let me do yours I will let you do mine.
Putin: Comrade, I am sorry, but it won't work. I don't know how to do yours. I don't even think it works right.
Bush: Well, then let me do yours.
Putin: I am sorry, I am afraid you might break it.
Bush: Oh come on, I did Iraq and Afghanistan.
Putin: I know, that's why I won't let you play Russian president for a day.

Dead of the Week: 49
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 392

The Curl Flub

2006-07-09T15:34:00.000+08:00

Curlicue, Pernicious, Mores, Snarf, Hinky, Haimish, Scrunchy, Trog, Linguica, Echt, Doula, Onomatopoeia.

On this weeks edition of, A Stray World:

Thousands of fishes die as North Korea launches Trojan horse missile into the ocean;
Member of Parliament receives official sponsorship from Mercedes;
The impotence of the European Union;
And why forest genocide is good for Malaysia.

We begin with the top news headliner of the 4th of July, where Kim Jong-il, the deity of North Korea, proclaimed that all the fishes in the Sea of Japan were "evil conspirators bent on killing the godly children of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea", and ordered their subsequent execution.

His generals then launched multiple "Made in Heaven's Land" missiles which seemed headed for Washington DC, but instead plunged into the ocean where North Korean soldiers (who were hiding within the missiles) disbursed and started slaughtering fishes with their latest model of Neolithic bone knives.

"Our far-seeing leader was actually out to get the denizens of the deep ocean, who have amassed huge biological weapons scavenged from the corpses of our people who have died from experimental medications," said a spokesman for the DPRK, who wished to be known as Mr So. "Due to the trajectory of the initial launch, we were not at all surprised that our neighbours complained about the loud noise. Rest assured, we are doing all in our power to ensure these systematic launches won't cause too much trouble for the Americans."

As to what evidence North Korea has to show for their claims that a huge invasion is about to take place, Mr So replied they had received their information the way the Americans did, through the CIA.

"The CIA has been very helpful for alerting us to this situation," replied Mr So. "They showed us documents written in what they called Atlantean, and helpfully translated them for us to reveal an elaborate plot to destroy the world."

"To thank them, our greatest missile holding all of our loyal soldiers was named the Taepodong, which is a play of the words "type of bong", which we all know is the number one question on the minds of every American who listens to rap."

Back on the local front.

The woes of Mohd. Said, a member of Parliament who couldn't get approval from Parliament to subsidies his foreign car purchases, will soon become a distant memory as Mercedes has announced an elaborate sponsorship scheme for MPs who use the name of their flagship product in their speeches every time they get the chance to speak in the august body.

"We realized the incredible amount of publicity this issue has generated, especially among the MPs," said a Mercedes spokesperson. "Rather than miss this opportunity, our managers decided to embark on a ruthless sponsorship scheme to promote Mercedes as the foreign car to own."

Replying to questions on whether or not this sort of unscrupulous advertising would tarnish the image of Parliament, Mercedes said: "Oh no. If anything, I am sure it will add to the image of Parliament as the best place in Malaysia to receive free gifts for saying inappropriate things. Very soon, Parliament will make Mercedes the official car of Malaysia for our help in drawing more people to become Parliament members."

Moving along, Pfizer International, the Nobel Award candidate , says it has plans to treat the EU's general "underperformance".

"We have succeeded in replicating the Blue Pill for the EU," came the bold announcement from Dr Ekam Evol. "As you all know, for years the EU has not been giving satisfying performances to his partners from the surrounding region. This can be seen in the recent invasion of Palestine by the Israelis."

"If we trace history, you will notice that every time there has been a war, there will always be a big erection, a great example would be Malaysia's very own Tugu Negara," offered Dr Evol. "Other examples are the Washington Memorial and the Statue of Liberty."

Obviously, this hasn't been the case in the EU, where since the defeat of France in the Battle of Waterloo, there have been no great erections in the region.

The consistent invasion of Palestine by Israel though, offers a unique opportunity in which the EU may experience erections once every two weeks, instead of the current once every two hundred years.

"As the EU has generally remained a neutral party in this conflict, they can theoretically double the number of erections they may have, provided they follow our medical plan," said Dr Evol with a sly wink. "Trust me. Under normal circumstances, every time someone's at war, you can bet your family jewels that someone is having an erection."

True enough. After all, why else would George W. Bush enter a new conflict every six months?

Coming back to our beloved country, we secured A Stray World exclusive letter from a prominent government official regarding forestry policies for the not-too-far future.

Here are the important points, highlighted by our tireless overworked hamster in the freezer:

"For the good of the nation, the rakyat should realise our country must increase the amount of land available for buildings. It doesn't matter that not even ten percent of the new buildings will have tenants, as long as we build, build, build.

This solves a lot of problems, namely, Malaysia's image as a developing nation.

As we all know, the measure of the development of a nation is consistent with the thickness of low-land cloud cover. For example, the New York smog and London's acid-tinged fog.

We mustn't forget that a successful nation usually has its rivers heavily polluted with industrial waste before she spends funds collected through taxes to clean them up. Anyone who has read the history of the Thames would know that.

Most developed countries, as you may have noticed, have little or no sanctuaries or green belts. This is because these lands have been converted into much more productive residential areas when entrepreneurial women sell their bodies and gangsters who rap all day long sell drugs.

Believe me, if we continue to resist the felling of our forests, we will NEVER be able to build entire towns of grey concrete filled with impoverished, obese, people.

Besides, we can also make back 0.001% of the accumulated and long term costs of the said projects if we cut down all the trees to make paper and furniture.

These plans are being quietly implemented by the government nationwide to ensure the developed nations do not find out and interfere in our country's development.

Just imagine, one day, we will no longer have river related accidents or deaths because no one will go swimming ever again and we will never have to organize search parties for foreigners lost in the jungle."

P.S. This entry is dedicated to Helen Pratt, the 300th person who died on television as a result of a blood clot which formed in her heart, shot up her brain, and killed her.

Dead of the Week: 44
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 343

Mean-(M)isters

2006-07-02T18:34:00.000+08:00

Erogenous, Gossamer, Hyrule, Antecedent, Pro Forma, Amorphous, Apoplast, Chutney, Oligopoly, Prolix, Nous, adsorption.

This week, on A Stray World:

13 dogs shot dead, owner gets clean-up bill;
Healthy elephant successfully stressed and drugged to death, nobody takes credit;
Israel launches a rescue mission to save one of their own, unwittingly destroys Palestinian government in the process;
Bush meets Koizumi, no samurai claims assassination reward.

Welcome to your weekly edition of A Stray World. Today, we feature - heroes.

Last Thursday, the Seremban Municipal Council (SMC) displayed great heroics by successfully shooting dead 13 of 26 dogs belonging to an animal lover.

As we all know, people who display great love and affection for animals, like Mr. Eng Her Sun, make others around them angry as a result of suppressed jealousy due to their inability to feel compassion.

The take-down squad, heavily armed with weapons of every grade, were out to restore peace and harmony to the community - so much so that every dog shot was accompanied with whoops of joy and glee.

With each bullet costing US$0.30, rest assured that the billing of the sting operation to public funds will be limited to RM 5000.00, to prove that the government is serious about wasteful public spending.

"We will ensure the remaining 13 dogs are neutralized. Rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to ensure they are all wiped out," said a SMC spokesman, on condition of anonymity.

"These creatures bring nothing but trouble and suffering, even our holy book discourages handling them. For the dog lovers out there, you should be thankful that we, as responsible citizens of God, have chosen the noble path of ridding them from this earth."

Apparently, the SMC doesn't use metaphores.

"We plan to send the bodies of the dogs to space to ensure their genes no longer contaminate this earth."

Meanwhile, government cost saving methods ensured that as little funds as possible were used for the relocation of Mat Chepor last week, which proved to be a wise choice when the baby elephant died.

"We did all we could to make sure the elephant relocation was done with minimal expenditure, due to escalating oil prices, and the increase of foreign cars bought by government officials," said a senior government minister on assurances of anonymity. "We even managed to delay the arrival of the experts from PERHILITAN by six days by persuading them to walk to the site to conserve fuel. Heck, we even secured the services of a vet only when Mat Chepor showed signs of dying to cut back on medical fees!"

With everyday heroes like them, true heroes who won't even take credit for their deeds; rest assured that Malaysia will be in safe hands.

On the international front, we turn our hero-worthy lenses to the West Bank; where Israel, who have the greatest sense of loyalty and friendship in the world, have launched their full military might to rescue one of their own.

When Palestinian militants abducted Cpl Gilad Shalit last Sunday, Israel was outraged.

In fact, a few air force commanders were given a dishonourable discharge for not launching air strikes immediately.

Repeated attacks have been launched against the northern and southern lands of the Palestinian Authority. Some commandos have successfully penetrated the legions of fanatical suicide defenders (some as young as 10) in their incredibly ingenious fortresses designed to look like run down abodes and apartments and have destroyed these bunkers-of-mass-destruction.

Songs and praise of the Israelis will be written and performed from this day onward; forever reminding us that true friends will do anything for each other.

Meanwhile, A Stray World correspondent, Ahn Ser Mi, has secured an exclusive interview with a Japanese samurai who reportedly turned down an opportunity to slice temporary US President, George W. Bush, in half.

Ahn has the story.

Ahn :Can you give me your name, just for the record?
Samurai: Call me B.B.
Ahn :Okay... B.B. The members of the Pact of Tao have demanded an explanation as to why their hired hitman has not ended the life of "the unworthy swine Bush" as they put it. Why didn't you?
B.B. :Because, Bush has already corrupted the minds of our leaders. If I were to kill him, nothing would change.
Ahn :Is that the truth?
B.B. :No! (Sobs) Bush, he told Koizumi, that he was my father!
Ahn :What!
B.B. :He showed our leader a picture of a baby and said this was his illegitimate daughter in Japan. The baby was wearing a garish mauve kimono.

That's all for this weeks edition of A Stray World.

Next week, we find out whether or not Osama bin Laden sends Get-Out-of-Jail-Free cards on a daily basis to Saddam Hussein and why America thinks its troops in Iraq should convert to Buddhism.

Good day, and good luck.

Dead of the Week: 19
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 299

Ken wa Kyouki

2006-06-25T16:57:00.000+08:00

Whittle, Turducken, Irate, Hanker, Apoplectic, Brinkmanship, Denouement, Littoral, Notional, Crocheted, Camisole, Cardigan, Broderie Anglaise, Wherewithal, Jaunt, Moot, Auteur, Turpitude, Favela, Souq, Creche, Ingress, Percolate, Dansela, Dilatory, Neoteny, Bohemian, bourgeois, Mawkish, Het, Corpulent.

For quite some time, I have begun each of my entries with a string of words which illicit, as my good friend Peter puts it, "ego bruising" tendencies; often resulting in the usage of precious ATP to grab that otherwise mint condition dictionary.

If you have been doing that since I begun these strings of hardly-used words, congratulations! You have thus improved your vocabulary and with your improved prowess, dazzle the ladies with your vocabulary acrobatics while sharpening your wit and the use of "classy" invective to skewer your rivals silly.

Those strings of words, you see, are new words I have learnt during the week, or words I have previously encountered whose meaning has atrophied due to prolonged disuse.

So if you actually know those words, without having to consult a dictionary; I strongly urge you to either publish your own blog or give me the address of your blog.

Now that I have explained myself, its time to contemplate on current issues.

If you have been a regular reader of my blog, you might have noticed my innate compulsion to pounce on hot issues like Superman on Lois Lane. This however, is not the case with the recently announced move to incorporate firearm training into National Service.

This is because:

I forgot about the issue every time I log into Blogger;
Since I had forgotten about it until I logged out, I decided to let the issue play out instead of making immediate updates to my blog.

As the saying goes, good things come to those who wait.

The decision to allow firearm training to (mostly) immature teenagers is a disturbing notion in itself; to actually allow real bullets is a definite invitation to a bloody disaster.

Having gone through the actual training, I can emphatically make myself clear these people aren't prepared for the burden and responsibility of handling an M16.

These people can't even be bothered to form queues without engaging in some sausage-slicing queue cutting; let alone handle a killing machine.

That is the core of the issue: We are teaching our children to kill.

Sure, those who suggested this module have repeatedly tried to convince the public with such cogent anecdotes as "instilling discipline".

Yes, training our children to shoot live bullets using army grade weapons will "instill discipline".

As Hiko Seijuruu said to Himura Kenshin in what I consider the God of all anime, Rurouni Kenshin:
"A sword is a weapon for killing. Kenjutsu is the art of killing. Whatever kinds of pretty words or titles you use, that is the only truth."

I have to admit, given the opportunity, I would learn how to shoot too; just to understand what state sponsored murderers do every day...

The only thing is, I would rather handle an AK-47.

The world is rapidly changing, evolving, or rather, regressing.

According to Discovery News, worldwide immaturity levels are rising!

"People such as academics, teachers, scientists and many other professionals are often strikingly immature outside of their strictly specialist competence in the sense of being unpredictable, unbalanced in priorities, and tending to overreact."

The culprit is said to be, ironically, formal education.

Apparently, the need to increase general, abstract intelligence requires a child-like stance of receptivity to new learning, and cognitive flexibility.

In other words, George W. Bush.

This is a guy about to lead a bunch of selfish, unscrupulous, greedy men into open nuclear war. The clock is ticking, and we are fast approaching the twelfth hour on the clock of doom.

Double standards notwithstanding, I see absolutely no pragmatic reason to forbid Iran access to nuclear technology. Particularly when the United (Terrorists) States of America sees fit to bestow nuclear warheads to Israel, while their apoplectic Arabian neighbours are deprived of the "privilege".

Although wars in the Middle East might seem worlds away, as suggested by chaos theory, everyone will feel its ramifications.

Just take note:
Spoilt brats are running the world today; we all know what they will do if they don't get things their way...

Dead of the Week: 45
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 280

Expected, Yet Unprepared

2006-06-19T18:23:00.000+08:00

Esoteric, Iambic Pentameter.

Once again, physical and metaphysical limitations have prevented me from updating this blog on time.

I had a nasty piece of homework from my math teacher; an entire exercise section that took me THREE HOURS to complete. At the same time, my sister has decided to switch her Internet surfing hours to Sunday evening from her usual slot of Saturday night.

Both these factors have resulted in this late entry, and I apologize if anyone died as a result of my tardiness.

The 6 Form institution which I have participated in is living up to its billing as being the most sadistic and torturous tertiary education in Malaysia. Expected, since it is after all rated as the fifth hardest examination (STPM) in the world by Unesco.

It is the fifth hardest for a very simple reason: the streaming system.

According to one of my teachers, streaming the students supossedly enables a teacher to teach all the students in his or her classes easily in one shot. No fuss, no hassles, unless you happen to be the student!

Take me, for example.

I loath Maths, and I am very weak in Chemistry. During my high school years, I have always been consistent in my Additional Maths and Chemistry results.

Consistently bad that is.

It is therefore quite perplexing that our nations education system has once again forced me to study both Math and Chemistry, which at the first opportunity, I would drop like 5-year-old cow dung, if I could without jeopardizing my marks.

Some of my friends have asked me to consider the college option; and frankly speaking, I have had considerable discussions on this option, with myself, and I have come to the conclusion that the university course I wish to pursue is not only easily attainable, it is also at a local university, so college won't be an economical option for me; seeing as I come from a middle-income family and my business endeavour is not profitably stable yet.

Besides, commuting to college will be hell; as I live in an area particularly distant from any affordable college institution.

As a wrap up, I expect to fail every single time in my school's internal examinations this year for the stated subjects. I have little choice but to tough it out until I get my chance to study Forestry at UPM.

My first week back has proven to be quite eventful.

Tun Dr. Mahathir and his successor Datuk Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, in their "altercations", may change the face of Malaysian free speech as we know it.

Let's look beyond the issues raised and see the ripples and reactions it has explosively resulted in.

First, were the calls from various parties and individuals for Mahathir to shut up. Then there were calls from others to allow the former Prime Minister of Malaysia to speak his mind. After that, there were the almost comical pledges by various ministers to stick by Badawi no matter what "others" may say.

Matthias Chong however, takes the cake by swearing on ALL the known holy books about his integrity and honesty and all the other political mileage stuff in front of the foreign press and national Chinese papers.

Let's not forget the highly unnecessary incident where the National Fatwa Council asked the government to re-examine the open-house practice; something uniquely Malaysian and only found in Malaysia.

Apparently, the activity of getting to know your neighbours and friends of different religious backgrounds and skin tones will shake your belief in Islam.

So let me get this straight: Terrorists killing thousands in the name of Islam unites all Muslims; eating a multi-cultural meal with friends with different beliefs weaken's Muslims?

Being an atheist, I am probably the most qualified person to give opinion on the matter. Frankly, these stupid, parochial, invidious, individuals seem to act and create unnecessary issues which are, at the same time, unwisely encouraged by the people and the media.

To put it in perspective, these people would rather discuss how much skin you are allowed to show and the "immorality" of couples in love holding hands than whether or not Malaysia's human capital, particularly the Malays, are marketable in this global era.

There is a silver lining though.

As cynical as this may sound, these frank and open discussions, no matter how ridiculous, will serve as a stepping stone to more open discussions regarding wider, more sensitive issues.

It's like the Salem witch hunts - kill a certain number of people and eventually you will question the wisdom of your actions, and the wisdom of your peers.

Today, that would mean going to war for a shady, uncertain reason.

For the readers out there who have been watching the 2000hrs news on TV3, the Reopen 9/11 documentaries are sure to have caught your eye.

At first glance, the claims these people made, e.g., the World Trade Center was demolished by bombs, not brought down by planes, seem crazy and illogical; until you view the video evidence...

As incredible as it may sound, evidence hints that explosive-demolition bombs were used to bring down the WTC; the plane that alledgedly crashed into the Pentagon never existed, and many more.

The ramifications will be felt worldwide if these allegations are proven to be true. So much so that I believe those happy-go-lucky teenagers who live on a staple diet of The Simple Life and Akademi Fantasia will actually start watching the news.

The ultimate conspiracy designed to give America a huge reserve of oil, or mentally stressed lunatics who should be sent to Arkham Asylum immediately?

You decide.

Reopen 9/11

Dead of the Week: 17
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 235

From Hell to Earth's Hell

2006-06-11T17:35:00.000+08:00

I am finally back! It was a blast I tell you, going through National Service.

Seriously, I enjoyed myself.

That however, doesn't mean I hold no criticisms regarding my stint. In fact, in a way, I was proven beyond any reasonable doubt that National Service has failed in its overall objective to instill discipline, integration, and unity between the 300 or so odd trainees in camp.

Of course, that is from my perspective. Anyhow, you can read about my experience yourself when I finish digitizing my offline blog, which I had written during the 84 days in exile.

NOTE: The phrase "offline blog" does not exist. I simply find it a convenient way of describing my diary to people who ask. Whenever someone approaches me in camp asking what I am writing, I answer it is my offline blog, my diary, only it is a diary meant for public viewing.

It has been a frenetic 2 days since my return.

First, I had to complete my revisions.

I immediately started with Numb3rs on AXN which was immediately followed by Being Chen Kaige on Discovery Channel.

What, you didn't actually expect me to read up on Form 6 did you? TV is my life, it powers my intellect. I can feel a significant drop in my ability to conduct or write with my usual wit and vigour as a result of my gamma-ray withdrawal treatment.

Here's a general rundown of what I did after my return:

Reintroduced myself to my dog. The son of a bitch (not profanity, but fact) had forgotten me and wanted to take a chunk off my hand;
Watched TV;
Tended to my bonzais, all of whom had changed and grown significantly;
Messaged most of my ex-National Service friends;
Walked my dog;
The World Cup (England vs Paraguay)
Completed my offline blog;
The World Cup (Sweden vs Trinidad & Tobago).

The World Cup. The magic begins.

While I mostly read the paper during the England-Paraguay match, my full attention was given to the unlikely combination of Sweden - Trinidad & Tobago.

Magic, I tell you.

Trinidad & Tobago were reduced to 10 men in the second half, which effectively meant they had to last more then 45 minutes worth of attack.

With Henrik Larsson and Zlatan Ibrahimovic in Sweden's attacking lineup, this could easily have been a 4-0 drubbing right then and there.

What followed next was nothing short of a superhuman display by the Trinidad & Tobago goalkeeper, Shaka Hislop, who single handedly stopped shots that would have cratered the doors of a Proton.

His fellow countrymen, also manifested incredible obstinance in their defense, led by none other that Dwight Yorke - who commanded and inspired his teammates in conducting the most incredible defense I have ever seen based solely on the will to never quit.

I didn't need any coffee, although I had only had two-and-a-half-hours sleep in 48 hours. So you could forgive me for giving a small cheer at 0230 on the 11th of June when the final whistle blew.

Back to business as usual then. My TV revision continued with the latest season of all three CSIs, Discovery Channels I Shouldn't be Alive a revisit of Spongebob Squarepants.

In the course of writing this, I realised (imagined me speaking with an Irish lilt) me olde wit is back laddie.

Wow, in two days, I have racked up 21 TV deaths thanks, no doubt, to CSI Supreme Sunday. That's a water tank-load of blood if we could ever squeeze them out of the bodies.

While our highly respected and loved ministers and representatives wish to control the displays of affection in public, they have wisely allowed us all to continue our pursuit for more violence and gore.

Yes, down with love, bring on the blood.

Hey, I have a suggestion for the MPs, why don't you shoot couples holding hands or kissing in the Botanical Gardens on the spot!

You could send a message to all those who would show their love to the world while providing extra entertainment to the public in a local fashion; because we must all support our local film industry no matter how vacuous and frivolous most of them are, right?

Seriously, I think there is something very wrong with our leaders. Especially with the looming threat of hydraulic despotism. We should be focusing on the management of our natural resources and energy needs rather than stunting love.

I leave you with a quote from lesson 1 of the Hacker High School programme:

"Research a topic. Any topic. A current event, perhaps. Use the first source you find as the standard. Find 5 other sources. How do the other sources differ from that standard? What reasons would there be for the difference? Political reasons? Has content been changed to suit a specific audience? Has content been omitted to make an issue or a fact more palatable or marketable? Do subtle wording differences change the interpretation of your standard? When you encounter this question for the first time, you'll find that some of your own bias may influence your answers. As you learn more (not only with computers and security, but in all subjects), come back to this question when researching a topic. You'll find that your broader perspective gives you new insights in to some, if not all, of the answers."

Dead of the Week: 21
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 218

Reason of Existence

2006-03-17T01:52:00.000+08:00

Turkey, Romania, Australia, Portugal, The Netherlands, Sweden, Canada, Finland, Bulgaria, South Africa, Germany, Belgium, The United Kingdom, Mexico, Columbia, Hong Kong, France, Italy, Switzerland, Singapore, India, Macao, Norway, Martinique are all of the nations which have signed up for the

Stop Dogs From Being Separated From Their Owners Petition!

along with a HUGE number of Americans and ragtag Malaysians who are still human.

What is your raison d'etre?

Hope more of you readers are human by the time I revisit this page in three months time.

Dead of the Week: 9
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 197

Sojourns and Passages

2006-03-12T17:33:00.000+08:00

Perfunctory, Quaff, Detumescence, Tautology, Factotum, Inimical.

A lot to blog about today, I don't think I need to explain why because I will be detailing them anyway.

The week started with my most highly anticipated Oscars ever. I believe the name Jon Stewart rings a bell, after all, I have been dropping his name at every opportunity I get.

I believe the criticism regarding his presentation of the Oscars is very biased - so biased, that I could feel it as soon as I watched Jon Stewart do his opening monologue.

It was a no win situation.

Put a guy known for puncturing public figures (and doing it in an extremely entertaining way) in front of the most public of public figures, it was a surprise anyone (probably the non-Americans) laughed at all during his sketches.

Seriously, I found them very funny. Others might not think so because of the apparent lack of the laugh track as a result of big egos not being pandered to during the Oscars.

The only time I didn't laughed during the Oscars was when Jon Stewart was not on the stage.

Come on, don't tell me you didn't enjoy that "gay cowboy" montage Jon's team made, ala Daily Show!

There were also those funny supporter videos for the various Oscar nominees ala Presidential Election. I found the Reese Witherspoon one a work of genius.

I concede though, he wasn't as funny as he is in The Daily Show. But that's due to the fact he is live worldwide. You can't exactly diss the Chinese Premier or Bush during the Oscars. If he could, I think we would have more Dick and Bush's Adventures in Crazy Land.

And yes, it's because the laugh track wasn't being pandered to.

Secondly, my appeal for my friends to help sign the Stop Dogs From Being Separated From Their Owners Petition! has only been answered by Kenneth.

Unacceptable, considering I am using dial-up and you are probably not.

The number 76 is of significance today, because that's the number of dead bodies I saw on television this week.

That's an average of eleven per day!

The honour is shared by:

The 4400 where a plague producing emotionally unstable woman wipes out more than 200 inhabitants of a town, where only 30 or so bodies were displayed;
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation where a cult following killed themselves to live with aliens;
And Michael Moore's brilliant Bowling for Columbine where dead people from various points in history were shown. A must watch - it will make any American wish he lived in Canada.

I suppose it wouldn't hurt to reveal that my actual target of dead people seen on TV is actually 300. But if things stay the way they are right now, it might breach the 1000 threshold - despite my enforced 3-month ban from television.

Ironically, while watching an episode of the hilarious British humored Doc Martin, the simple and ordinary act of inserting a needle into the wrist of a patient to draw blood (which happened to me, by the way, the day after the Oscars) was censored using the trendy method of slowing down the video feed and looping it until the "violent event" finished its obligatory role as an indicator that this is a medical drama (okay, maybe half medical drama).

So I am allowed to watch someone knock skull fragments into the brain with a hammer, see Gil Grissom handled a human brain, but not allowed to watch a doctor draw blood and administer medicine with a big, humungous needle.

Hmm... Makes you wonder what sort of torture, ahem, medical tests those censors had to endure before they were set free among the video reels.

Speaking of deaths, I wish to draw attention to the fact that up till this moment in time:-

A minimum of 33489 Iraqi civilians have died since the US led invasion

Does that number mean anything to you?

I believe it won't, at least to the majority. Admit it, you care more about your SPM results and how much money you will earn in a lifetime than the fact that the world's most technologically advanced superpower has bombed and destroy another country most of its people don't even know how to pronounce.

I admire people like you. The way you can go about your lives carefree and uncaring. Where the next location to watch the latest Hollywood blockbuster occupies more hard drive space than the atrocities being committed worldwide, and here.

Believe it or not, Muslim women in this country need our help, a fact I have highlighted a few months ago (albeit in a non-professional way, whatever that means now) has been properly elucidated by the very respectable Marina Mahathir.

Instead of cashing in on her father's former reign as a leader of a country and entering politics (unlike a well known example), she has chosen to stand her ground against problematic issues on her own two feet.

Well done Marina Mahathir! Speaking as a human, I am very touched by your continued fight against injustice.

A long time ago, I watched the (Marvel Comics character) Iron Man animated series, where Tony Stark explained the concept of irony to an artificial intelligence program.

Over the next half-hour, I learnt that irony is mostly funny, unless it isn't.

My maternal grandmother is now six feet under, and I am not sad about it - I am actually quite relieved.

Now, before you call me an insensitive dirtbag who deserves to rot in hell, I wish to tell a story.

Once upon a time, there lived an old woman on the third floor of an apartment building. One day, she fell ill, and her children who lived with her were ill of her.

The children made excuses and left her to starve at home for six days before the old woman's grandchild who didn't live with her took her to the hospital to treat her pains.

In the hospital, most of her children kept vigil over her unwillingly. Some didn't even bother because they had "businesses" to run.

This continued until her death as a result of pulmonary embolism in hospital.

Ironically, her children started crying and finally organized a three day funeral ceremony where they did all sorts of chanting with priests and musicians.

Crying. Spending money. Asking for success and protection. After she died.

I hope this explains my disdain of religion and the obscene ceremonies it has generated.

When I die, I hope some of my organs will be reused and the rest made into fertilizer - not planted into sterile earth and being asked to protect relatives I barely know...

Dead of the Week: 76
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 188

Ectoplasmic Exercises

2006-03-05T15:27:00.000+08:00

Poppycock, sufferance, Mimesis, Portent, Impertinent, Corollary, Juxtapose.

Let's be spontaneous, shall we?

The WWF is holding a so called "Your Favorite Animal Tournament".

Here, every day throughout March, two opposing animals will attempt to out-vote its opponent to become the WWF's most popular animal.

Yes, I know, it doesn't sound as hip and happening as spending 50 cents per SMS to vote for your favourite glass-breaking migraine-giving singing idols... But at least it will show that on some minute level, you at least know there is such a thing called the environment.

The post Olympic week has been disappointing, to say the least.

First of all is the way dog owners are being treated in this country.

For a long time now, we have heard about the infamous Shah Alam Municipal Council - a government entity which recently chose to ban (according to this blog) the Rottweiler, Japanese Tosa, Akita and American Bulldog.

Of course, we of the sound mind shouldn't let this issue pass us by like flowing gunk in mismanaged drains. Please, before it's too late, sign up for the Stop Dogs From Being Separated From Their Owners Petition!

Every signature counts.

The Star also reported the - rather disturbing - news article about a guy's dog that was shot dead and tossed into a truck despite the collar around its neck.

To be blunt (which I enjoy, but will potentially be the cause of my downfall), this has everything to do with the Islamic government of Malaysia.

For those not in the know, Muslims can't place themselves anywhere near dogs. They can't see them, they can't smell them, they can't touch them, and they definitely can't be friends with them.

For some stupid illogical reason - dogs as a species ceased to exist in their universal plane as soon as the Quran was published.

COME ON! I once asked my Malay neighbor why he was afraid of dogs (this was when I was still in Primary School, by the way) and his answer raised more questions.

"I don't know, because they are dirty?"

Yes. That is the ultimate answer - because they are dirty.

So let's play a little (potentially disastrous) game: Name the animal most likely to replace the dog if the Muslim world had never laid eyes on them.

I have a few suggestions: Mudskippers, earthworms, maggots, cows, oxes...

But I don't digress. Knowing full well I am only days away before turning 18 - thereby the right to be tried as an adult in court - I will increase my attack on stuff I realize will get me into serious trouble if I were an adult.

Because frankly, these are things we need to discuss.

Speaking of discussions, I happened to chance upon my third Doha Debate yesterday at 2010 hours on BBC World.

The topic of the night's debate centred on the need to recognize Hamas as genuine leaders of the Palestinian people.

These debates are surprisingly enough, held in a Islamic country and not a Western one. What's more, university students and common people are allowed to participate in the debates, which are aired worldwide by the BBC.

Apparently, Americans are still too hooked on American Idol 798 to notice anything else around them.

Seriously, if I were given an opportunity to broaden my education anywhere I like, I would choose Qatar for the simple reason that the public there genuinely gives a damn about world issues.

And for the record:
"This House believes that the international community must accept Hamas as a political partner."

How ironic, the one country actually exercising its right to free speech in the right way is NOT America - and its Islamic to boot.

Makes you wonder doesn't it, why our country can't do the same thing?

Of course, the above question wouldn't be complete without my answer: Because a few influential people will cite "tolerance" and "religion" as a "logical and impregnable defense" for organizing debates in such nature.

To the few people still reading this blog entry, I will now reveal the "technical problems" I have suffered that has consistently delayed my various web activities.

As I have so vividly described a fortnight ago (botched Botox surgery), my computer has a tendency to hang and start in safe mode after a while.

I have identified the problem as an overheating graphic card. In fact, and my left index finger can attest to this, the heat sink on my graphic card at its peak value in terms of heat is hot enough to fry an egg!

My temporary solution for now is to leave the case open until I have done three things:

Get a vacuum cleaner to suck up half a decade of accumulated dust, which I presume to be the root of the problem;
Buy a internal fan for the graphic card;
Cut a BIG hole in my computer case.

And finally, plants currently being grown in my maggot powered compost bin produced soil are not showing any ill effects, yet.

Till then, watch Jon Stewart.

Dead of the Week: 8
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 112

Winter Wonders

2006-02-27T16:22:00.000+08:00

Chiffon, Organza, Basque, Vellum, Avant-garde, Ombudsman, Aberrant.

The Torino Winter Games have been nothing short of spectacular to this Winter Olympics newbie.

Sure, I do find speed skating as boring as any of the summer games’ track and field events and I fell asleep halfway into the luge programme.

This week’s blog will almost entirely be devoted to the winter games and how I find myself the only guy among my family and friends following the games’ progress.

Let’s start with my co-favourite sport in the winter games – curling.

To Peter out there who is now presumably smirking (or exclaiming) at the previous sentence, I have a phrase for you – no coffee.

The women’s curling final featured two teams, the classic underdog Switzerland led by the cool and calm Mirjam Ott; and the World Champions, European Champions and now Olympic Champions – Sweden.

The game started at 0030 hours and ended at 0400 hours.

Normally, for a game that long (listened to using headphones so as not to bother the family), I would be brewing some extra thick mocha-coffee to keep me awake throughout the night but would you believe it – I didn’t (and this from a guy who can get a good night’s sleep despite the espresso).

Not even a yawn.

A game of curling has 10 ends followed by additional ends if the game is tied. This game went down to the wire – the final stone of the 11^th end by the Swedish skipper.

The game started of with both teams evenly matched and ended at halftime with an interesting score of 3-2 with Sweden holding the slight advantage.

The second half of the game was nothing short of dramatic.

During Switzerland’s last stone of one of the ends played by Mirjam Ott, the stone experienced a pickup as the match commentators called it. The stone, which was sliding towards the intended target, suddenly curled prematurely and Ott’s stone collided with a Swedish guardstone, thereby surrendering a point to the Swedes.

According to the match commentators, a pickup occurs because of imperfections in the ice, which may be caused by - get this - hair, fluff, sand or any other imperfections in the ice!

If my memory serves me correct, the score became 6-2 (or was it 5-2?) at the 7^th end.

Either way, it was a great mountain to climb for the Swiss (like being 3 goals down at the 80^th minute in a football match) and their response was nothing short of miraculous.

Faced with a seemingly insurmountable barrier, the Swiss looked to their leader, skipper Mirjam Ott.

What happened next cannot be adequately described in words.

Ott didn’t seem any different from the outset, but there was an aura of invincibility about her after the unfortunate pickup. Her teammates, catching the invincibility virus, started drawing incredibly accurate and unbelievable shots. Even the crowd, which had been rather subdued, started screaming, shouting and screaming: “Ott’s Team! Ott’s Team!”

The Swiss managed to narrow the gap to 6-4.

Despite the Swede’s best efforts to hold them of, Ott’s incredibly sublime final stone at the 10^th end drew the match!

11^th end.

Ott managed to place two stone in the home with no other rival stones anywhere in it. It was up to the Swedes to either win the game or lose it.

The crowd, which comprised three factions: the Swiss, the Swedes, and the neutrals; were screaming their heads off.

Loud chants of “Ott’s Team!” were answered by screaming Swedes, which in turn drove the neutrals into choosing a side.

You could hear a pin drop when the Swedish skipper took her place.

The ice queen delivered – and made a double takeout (not the kind at McDonalds), removing both Swiss stones with her stone the remaining tenant.

Yup, there you have it. A heart-pounding match which, interestingly, didn’t bring tears to my eyes as they would if my truly favourite team losses.

The simple and only answer is because the Swiss played like champions, and their skipper Mirjam Ott earning a place of worship that I have up to now, only allocated to Himura Kenshin and Jon Stewart, for never wavering or surrendering under great odds.

My other co-favourite sport during the Winter Games can only be ice-skating.

As the saying goes: “It’s a one of a kind.”

Ice-skating is a combination of beauty, grace, artistry, individuality, skill, stamina, and rhythm. I can assure you, gymnastic, the summer equivalent of ice-skating, doesn’t even come close to this unique discipline.

Watching the gala performance repeat on Sunday evening was the best way to see what ice-skating had to offer. Unlike real competition, the gala is performed more to entertain the audience than to get one up over your opponent – in other words, the skaters get a free reign on how and what they wish to perform.

Some notable performances include the emotional display by Johnny Weir to Sinatra’s (is there any other?) My Way, the feminine grace of Irina Slutskaya, the cool elegance and beauty of Olympic Gold Medallist Shizuka Arakawa to the music You Raise Me Up, and last but never least, a glorious performance by Olympic Gold Medallist, the legendary Evgeni Plushenko to the Stradivarius of Edvin Martin.

Speaking of which, I will now officially issue a challenge to all the rappers of the world. Not even one of these “musicians” had their “tunes” featured in the event – although any music genre is allowed.

Until an ice-skater wins an Olympic medal accompanied by rap, I’ll never consider it music worth listening to.

As someone on the Internet once posted: “Rap is an interesting word; add C and you get what it is; add E and you get what it does to your brain.”

Other events there drew my interests were the snowboarding events (which were more like the Winter X Games), short track skating, aerials, moguls, and any other event I happened to tune in to.

The closing ceremony however, was less than pleasing – at least for me – as its main theme was the carnival.

Luckily, there were more things than dancing clowns to look at; e.g., Avril Lavigne.

And on that bombshell, I end my take on the Torino 2006 Winter Olympics.

I said I would devote almost all of today’s blog to the Winter Games. My second phrase today is magic maggots.

Remember my compost bin? I stand corrected, there are maggots feeding on vegetable matter. Big juicy ones not unlike the kind you see on Fear Factor.

I am not really sure how they got there; maybe it happened when I took out the inner bin to aerate its contents. The point is: underneath the initial layer of organic waste, there now lies a thick layer of black organic slush (for lack of a better word) crawling with maggots. Yesterday, I removed some of the matter for plant growing purposes. I will publish the results next week.

Also, the Sautern Enterprise blog has also been updated so check it out if you have the time.

Till then, see you in Vancouver!

Dead of the Week: 29
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 104

Spiritual White

2006-02-19T18:00:00.000+08:00

Dichotomy, Raconteur, Sobriquet, Polemic, Wherewithal, Deportment, Elocution.

Wonderful, marvelous, incredible and surprising. I suppose those are apt words to describe my week.

Firstly, I finally got my P license for both car and chopper. There was nothing fishy during the examination - I made a few mistakes, and nobody asked for bribes. In fact, it was just a mere coincidence that I made the same exact mistakes and scored the same as the guy after me.

And in other news, the Vice President of the United States, shot, a 78 year-old man in the face.

Come on, it doesn't make any bloody difference that I crossed the raised pavement test in exactly 7.8 seconds, same as the guy before me - as long as I got my Professional driving license.

This gets me thinking however: if I am a professional driver now, why will I be demoted into a mere "Competent" driver in two years time (it's a Malaysian thing).

I have an announcement - the startup company I am involve in is approaching its internal launching date, which is the 25th of this month. Therefore, for marke... I mean introduction purposes, we are also launching our company's official blog, which for now, will be on Blogger.

I struck upon this idea while taking a trip with our CEO, Tommy Ooi, to the Registrar of Businesses (a.k.a. R.O.B.) to well, register our business. Full details will be posted on our company blog, here.

Yesterday, will remain as one of the most shocking days of my life - my computer died.

Technically speaking, it didn't die; but almost always loaded in Safe Mode, which is as close to geek death as possible.

Drawing an analogy with the non-geek world would involve describing a scene where a patient is placed into a comatose state so that the trainee doctor may be allowed to rewire some important arteries, veins, and carry out organ transplants without the displeasure of a complaining patient who got into the mess in the first place by hiring an untrained plastic surgeon to inject nerve gas into the forehead to remove wrinkles and prevent facial expression.

And in other news, the Vice President of the United States, shot, a 78 year-old man in the face.

The main thing is, PC is still usable, for now; after the trainee doctor attempted to replace her brain but was stopped by an unknown presence.

And yes, I phrased that sentence correctly. I named my computer PC and assigned it a female gender - so sue me, I don't have a girlfriend.

Before I move on to other items, I wish to share a touching moment I saw on Saturday which re-ignited my belief in the human race.

While traveling to visit my grandma who is now lying in hospital due to heart problems (aided no doubt by her children who STARVED HER FOR SIX DAYS!), I observed a blind man crossing the road.

He lifted his cane high into the air with his umbrella pointing downwards; clearly signaling his intent to cross.

The first kindness: An oncoming car slowed down more than 30 metres away.

The second kindness: After crossing the road, I saw two young ladies offering to guide him in his travels.

The third kindness: As my father pulled away, slowing down before a traffic light, I saw a motorcyclist guiding another blind man across the road. This would be unremarkable except for the fact that I could see an ownerless motorcycle with its lights still on parked beside the road.

And in other news, the Vice President of the United States, shot, a 78 year-old man in the face.

I can only speculate that the motorcyclist, in his zeal to help the blind man, forgot to remove the keys from his bike.

Now, why can't more people act this way.

To another news item:
The Nintendo DS Lite will apparently support web browsing, among other interesting features. PSP nutcases, feeling stupid?

But the real story of the week belongs to MySpace.

Besides kicking Friendsters butt all the way to the nearest blackhole, MySpace has apparently TWO-AND-A-HALF times the traffic of Google.

What I have to say is of course:
What the hell are you fuddle duddle idiots still doing on that bloody slower than flowing sewage water Friendster?!?

And in other news, the Vice President of the United States, shot, a 78 year-old man in the face.

Remember the "Peace" message I left behind last week? It had to do with the Olympics.

I always had a soft spot for it, so that is why I couldn't write anything remotely vitriolic last week because the Olympic spirit sort of seeps into your soul, at least, that's how it works for me.

In fact, it's better than religion or any other ideological beliefs in promoting peace.

Take this for example:
Pope visits mosque - nothing happens.

Atheist handing out flyers in Salem - burnt at the stake.

North Korea and South Korea marching out under a single flag accompanied by 80's American rock music - millions cheer!

I have also fallen in love with another sport - curling.

There is nothing else like it in the summer games (okay, maybe it shares some similarities with lawnbowl). Curling is a combination of strategy and precision, where players with the biggest biceps don't win, but the geeky team does most of the time.

The aim of the game is to place your stone as close as possible to the "button" inside the "home". One point is awarded for every stone that comes nearer to the button than does any rival stone.

If you still can't get the gist of the game, go here.

Knowing me, you may realise that I am currently planning to send a Malaysian curling team to the Olympics as soon as possible. But first, I need to amass great wealth and prestige (for further reference, check out Sautern Enterprise).

And in other news, the Vice President of the United States, shot, a 78 year-old man in the face.

P.S. Due to PC's slightly deranged state, this blog is being published one day later than usual. Hey! You try working on a computer that hangs 10 seconds after Windows boots up!

Dead of the Week: 22
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 75

Green Rockheads

2006-02-12T12:43:00.000+08:00

Overwrought, Wordsmith, Gnarly, Shoehorn, Assiduous, De rigueur.

The Malaysian week started with a few bangs and ended with hundreds of people stabbing and pinning sharp objects through one another.

Don't be surprised (to non-Malaysians), it's a yearly event religiously observed... Because it's a religious thing.

Anyway, there are greater things to attend to; namely, the Prophet Muhammad caricatures issue.

It seems the Danish government has officially requested help from Malaysia to help ameliorate the situation because, simply put, it is the only Islamic country that respects the freedom of its citizens and failed to alienate religious zealots and extremists.

And on that happy note I end this weeks article because I wish to enjoy a little

Peace.

Dead of the Week: 20
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 53

Booking Stench

2006-02-06T12:14:00.000+08:00

Paroxysm, Ambuscade, Absinthe, Kleptomania, Bunk, Concupiscence, Panoply.

Once again, I find myself blogging from somewhere outside the simplistic, sweet design of Blogger. This time, it's because I conducted my weekly Internet routine of checking my e-mail at dusk instead of sometime in the evening yesterday. Therefore, I wish to apologise for the belatedness of this issue (if anyone actually cares, that is).

Lets proceed to some appetizers then.

First serving of the week comes from me.

After long delay, I could no longer put it off. I had to salve my conscience. I must own my own compost bin.

So, early one morning last week, I burnt some holes into an unused dustbin (after searching for a compost bin's blueprints earlier that morning), and popped it back into its mother ship (it's one of those bin-within-a-bin design). During the course of the week, I initiated my plan to gather as much organic waste as possible to kick-start my junk collection, so to speak.

And as they say, just add water.

The result: An extremely pungent foul and aromatic miasma of decaying organic matter. The bacteria within are also doing something else the Internet plans said would happen - producing heat.

I have a faint suspicion that they are producing methane - but my sister won't allow me to test it (add fire), so I will just have to be content with an emergency radiator in case winter arrives early in Malaysia.

Everyone should make one for their household, even if it's just to see how much waste material one cycles through every day.

Waiter, you may serve the main dish.

There has been much uproar over the treatment of twelve senior citizens by the Malaysian police.

For those not in the know, while everyone else was celebrating Chinese New Year, the Malaysian police saw fit to raid a coffeeshop and arrested 11 senior citizens (which also included a handful of middle-aged men) for alleged gambling while playing mahjong.

In Malaysia, it's illegal for senior Chinese citizens to exercise their right to spend their life savings after years of toiling and struggling for some mahjong fun.

If you thought that was unfair, Malaysian police have brought it to the next level.

Those same senior citizens were forced to spend a night in jail for alleged gambling.

Ridiculous, right?

Hold that train of thought, because there's more!

Sometime during their prison stint, the police saw fit to shave them bald and stripping them down to their underwear!

So much for the respect of elders.

In their own defence, a police spokesperson claimed it was in the provisions of the law that they shaved all detainees bald. Unfortunately for the dimwit, someone pointed out that it was convicted prisoners the law was referring to.

Naturally, mobs of angry villages have begun sharpening their knives to begin an extremely bloody insurrection against the police Nah, just kidding, the angry mob is in the process of turning into a bloody mob if the police don't come clean immediately.

Quick recap: a few months ago, Malaysian police were embroiled in an embarrassing scandal infamously know as the nude-squat incident.

There's only so much cow dung the public can take before a national crisis materialises.

For dessert, I wish to share a wonderful discovery. For people who hold the books are crap mentality, I am about to change your mind.

It is red book aptly titled: Big book of Insults.

Right on the title cover, this little gem is on display for all to see:

From the moment I picked up your book until I laid it down I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend to read it.

-Groucho Marx

Compiled by Nancy Mcphee, it features alternatives to profanity-happy-uncouth-knavish language so widely used today by introducing the invectives of days gone by.

From the poet Shakespeare to Mark Twain, politicians to editors, we are given a reader's guide to conducting conversations with Gregory House and (my favourite part), insulting opponents with class.

All for the price of £6.99 as printed on the cover. Luckily for me, I got it for just under RM15.00. That's a cool one-third of the original price!

I leave you with one of the many quotes from the book:

I could do without your face, Chloe, and without your neck, and your hands, and your limbs, and, to save myself the trouble of mentioning the points in detail, I could do without you altogether.

-Marcus Valerius Martial (c.40-104 AD)

Dead of the Week: 14
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 33

Clean Porch?

2006-01-29T12:44:00.000+08:00

Gratuitous, Irreverent, Camber, Debauched, Cukes, Collation, Carnal, Auteur, Reprobate.

So this it it, eh? Chinese New Year. The most anticipated celebration on the Chinese Lunar Calendar. Besting other illustrious celebrations such as the Hungry Ghost Festival, and the Lunar Festival.

This is the 17th time I celebrate Chinese New Year. Unlike previous years however, my neurotic mother has decided to single handedly dampen the start of the year by acting like a five-year-old.

It all started yesterday when my family went to the crematorium to pay our respects to my paternal grandmother and paternal uncle. After the incineration of a few coloured papers, which miraculously allows the transfer of large amounts of cash to our family in the afterlife, we went to a local hypermarket. There, my father chided my mother (not without reason) for wasting time by running all over the place looking for free stuff and spending unnecessary time selecting ONE hamper from a few DOZEN identical ones.

On the way back, I gave my own two cents worth on another unrelated matter because my mother was being an arrogant hypocrite. After we got to visiting my former nanny, my sister gave some comments about my mother's obsessive greedy nature of trying to get as much free stuff as possible (she was siphoning off some rags).

The straw that broke the camels back however, was when we set out towards my maternal grandmother's house one hour behind schedule, because of an unexpected visit by my deceased uncle's family. Somehow, after acting quite unfairly towards my sister (when she was ordered by my mother to text message some people since she didn't want to do it herself), my father requested her to lighten up - it was New Year's Eve.

She blew up, and sulked all the way to my grandma's house, all the time saying she wasn't going to eat anything and why should we bother visiting other people during the celebrations. After an awkward dinner at my grandma's (she actually called them when she blew up to tell them we weren't coming when we were more than halfway there), we set off straight back home instead of another yearly event - visiting my other relatives who reside in Georgetown.

At home, she went straight into the neighbour's house that she had rented and didn't come out till 10p.m., whereupon she went straight to sleep. Meanwhile, my father, sister, and to a lesser extent, me, were sprucing up the house for the new year.

Frankly, if I didn't catch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart: Global Edition last night, and if Everton hadn't at least drew Chelsea last night, I wouldn't have been able to sleep.

As I'm writing this at 1.33p.m., I hear signs of activity outside my room which tells me my mother has finally left her bedroom.

In a nutshell, I don't think I have any respect left for my mother - a forty-year-old who is as mature as a five-year-old.

What I am going to do right now to temporarily forget my family troubles is to focus on Chinese New Year itself.

Chinese New Year is a very versatile and compact celebration. For those who have never celebrated it, think of it as Christmas and New Year mixed with a dash of Thanksgiving. By giving out ang pows (red packets filled with money) instead of presents, the Chinese have eliminated the bane of picking out the perfect present for that relative you don't really know or refuse to acknowledge. Another advantage is (correct me if I am wrong) you only need to give the dough to children and unmarried relatives.

For that special relation whom you have always disliked, you can decide to, uh, reduce the amount of contribution to their kids - and they wouldn't be the wiser until you are out of sight - since it's impolite to open a wrapped ang pow in front of the guy who gave it to you.

The Chinese even threw in family reunion and here's my favourite part - you can't sweep the floor or do any cleaning work during the New Year, because according to tradition, you would be "sweeping" the wealth away!

To wrap up the week, a domain name me and my buddies have been eyeing for a start-up company we are setting up has been hijacked by cybersquatters. But fear not, I am now preparing a case with whatever limited knowledge I have to snatch it back - legally.

Looks like all those episodes of Matlock I watched as a kid will won't be wasted...

P.S. 55 Geni died on Stargate: Atlantis when Colonel Sheppard raised the Stargate's shield. But because no bodies emerged, I decided not to add it to the counter.

Dead of the Week: 7
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 19

Cool Yarmulkes

2006-01-22T16:20:00.000+08:00

Brumal, Ferine, Wassail, Conjugal, Precis, Kitsch, Retention, Winnow, Conching.

One item will hog the spotlight today - my death counter.

Seeing that its previous moniker was quite a mouthful, I have shortened it to Dead of the Week and Total Dead.

The hot issue this week is a "I take back what I said" incident.

The Education Ministry has decided to rescind or in this case - reinstate the ban on handphone (aka cellphones, mobile phones) usage by students nationwide.

If this sounds familiar to anyone who has been watching The Nanny last week, I know you to are laughing at the irony of the situation.

For those who haven't kept pace with Malaysian news, a few weeks ago, the Education Ministry suddenly decided to repeal the ban of handphones in schools nationwide. However, a lot teachers and other individuals have vehemently protested the annulment of the ban - which in turn led to the return of the ban.

In short: Handphones Banned > Handphones Allowed > Handphones Banned.

Have you ever watched The Shield. If you haven't, I say it's time your parents allowed you to grow up young man OR, I sympathies that you never even had the chance to watch this show and must instead force yourself to enjoy The O.C.

Basically, Detective Vic Mackey's approach to drug dealers is to force them to pay "royalties" for the "privilege" to sell China White on the streets, by his rules. That way, as he so eloquently put it:"We may not be able to stop that shit from coming in, but at least we can make sure our kids don't take any of it."

NOTE: My memory isn't that good so don't sue me if that's not what he said.

In my opinion, the handphone issue should be handled the same way. The same way allegorically.

We should have rules regarding the usage of handphones in school - not an outright ban, which doesn't just seem lazy on the part of the teachers and lawmakers, but is downright anachronistic is this day and age where even a teddy bear has a functioning radioactive circuit board.

Besides, the students bring them to school anyway; regardless of whether the ban exists or not. At least with rules governing the usage of handphones, we can curb any unnecessary use of the device while ensuring the student have a reliable way of communication.

If you read the press statements saying there are public phones and the office phones at the students disposal - cook alphabet soup and let them eat their own words mate, because that's a half-truth.

There are public phones around the school. Except they are unreliable most of the time. I still remember that day when I had to lug my heavy school bag around for about 1 kilometre searching for a usable public phone so I could contact my parents. By that time, I was outside the school grounds; meaning I would have to trek back about 1 kilometre before I could reach the administrative offices and request permission from the surly school clerks to allow me to give a damn 10 cent phone call - which I didn't do.

Instead, I simply went to all the spots where my parents usually wait when school ends, which was faster and less tiring than "school trek".

If my plight isn't convincing enough, I have only one question:
Where do I sign up for the "Sadists Anonymous of Malaysia" club? I want to enhance my pleasure of watching those younger than me suffer and die.

And now to my final subject, the one where only Americans have the balls to leave comments. The rest don't want to raise "sensitivities".

It is evolution again, this time, in Malaysian schoolbooks.

Or rather, lack of.

When I was in Form 4, which was two years ago, I asked my biology teacher whether or not we would learn evolution. She said it wasn't in the highschool syllabus.

And here's the kicker: Every textbook of the three science subjects (Biology, Physics, Chemistry) forced upon me begins with a chapter that always begins or ends with a paragraph praising the greatness of God in creating this wonderful world.

Which god it refers to however, will forever remain an unspoken truth.

The fact of the matter is, religious technocrats write the school syllabus. Not scientists.

Be objective people!

I leave you with this quote from Jon Stewart:
"Whether or no you believe the solar system was created 4.6 billion years ago or 6000 years ago, depends on whether or not you are wrong."

I love Jewish comedians.

Dead of the Week: 11
Total Dead (Since 12th Jan 2006): 12

Dead Things

2006-01-15T17:18:00.000+08:00

Lox, Loath, Melancholia, Inducement, Remiss, Inveigh, Inveigle.

And another week has come to an end. This time, I am, disturbingly, quite grateful, a lot of unfortunate events have occurred over the past week. I call it the "Jon Stewart Syndrome" whereby a person is glad that unfortunate acts of injustice and tragic events have occurred so that the said person is able to criticize and give his two cents worth to boost his credibility and popularity (which I seriously doubt is on the rise, especially after last weeks article which basically insulted 98% of the world's population).

I start first with the "People I Saw Dead (on tv)" counter at the bottom of this post.

It was inspired in part by a news article from a while back which claimed fatalities seen on tv has breached a certain three digit number (which I inconveniently, can't recall). But what really triggered the counter was a Calvin & Hobbes strip about the increase in violence seen on tv way back in 1985.

So there you go. The genesis of the counter of tv demise. Enjoy.

First food for thought: The state of the homeless in Malaysia.

No, I'm not referring to homeless people, I'm referring to homeless pets.

Malaysia, although rich in biodiversity and all that crap has a very impressive record of cruelty to animals. A few months back, a man was "punished" for cutting up a tiger and storing it in his fridge. A few weeks ago, certain zoos in Malaysia were found smuggling orang-utans from I-don't-really-want-to-know.

Now, we have abandoned animals. The SPCA, a non-profit organization dedicated to the welfare of abandoned pets has published a shocking report in The Star stating various breeds of dogs, cats, and even "exotic" pets left at their centres when they have outgrown their cuteness, or have lost their novelty, or have simply been too costly to keep.

There exists stereotypical images of skinny, diseased-riddened animals whenever one speaks of the SPCA in Malaysia. This is ultimately detrimental to the SPCA's adoption programme as no one wants to even go near them. I know this because my mother wouldn't heed my suggestion to adopt a dog from the SPCA and instead brought one home from her colleague, after telling me there were "worms" in those dogs.

She also displayed, to my extreme displeasure, the abhorrible trait of discarding things-you-can't-always-control by suggesting we send our current dog to the SPCA as he had become quite unruly; adding quite self-satisfyingly, the SPCA wanted dogs like him.

Our second highlight of the week is the harvesting of bear bile. A practice common among East Asian societies. Apparently, bear bile is the ultimate panacea, curing everything from impotence to (add you favourite ailment here).

Being of Chinese descent, I should be expected to comprehend the necessity of sticking a needle through the abdomen of a sun bear to suck out whatever bile there is and proceed to drink it; and I do, in a twisted way.

I mean, if the Geneva Convention allowed me to stick needles into a fellow human being to suck out his bile for consumption, I would be the first one in line to do it.

And here's the kicker: the people doing this claim they are doing it in a "humane way" and the bears "feel no pain".

Not surprisingly, no government I know of is actively banning the consumption of bear bile, due to the fact that it is extremely profitable - just like cheap porn.

On a lighter note, the Islamic Family Law has been stalled and will not be enforced due to the extremely misogynistic allotments within the law.

On an even lighter note, The Star has finally allotted three pages in its Sunday addition to Japanese anime. A long time coming that one.

On a simply downright frivolous note, I got my 'L' driving license.

Till then, be at peace with death.

People I Saw Dead (on tv) Last Week : 1
Total Number of People I Saw Dead (on tv): 1 (Since 12th Jan 2006)

Burnt to Death

2006-01-08T19:02:00.000+08:00

Obstreperous, Obeisance, Ottoman, Facile, Fricatives, Parse, Chockablock, Enfeeble, Perquisite, Stoic, Petard, Laconic, Epigram.

If the common man could travel the different paths of space-time back to its point of origin, he would discover that this blog was written using Notepad.

"Why?" he may ask. Because I'm using dial-up and my sister is on the phone (entering her first hour, proving that women do talk more on the phone than men, regardless of nationality) after a two hour session online.

So at this point, if my writing style seems somehow different from before, it might be due to the change of medium. Blogging using Notepad is somehow much more different than blogging using Blogger.

The past week has been quiet by Malaysian standards, with the death of a businessman as a result of careless placement of a lump of heavy metal (think Roadrunner) during construction of some forgettable building. The government is acting (or reacting) swiftly and preventive measures will be enforced nationwide to prevent another death by anvil.

As a result, I have the pleasure of devoting the rest of this blog to international news.

Number one on the list, Ariel Sharon in the hospital.

Yasser Arafat... Ring a bell, anyone? When the "great" Palestinian leader kicked the bucket, the peace process was actually expedited, not shot to smithereens.

Would the same thing happen when Sharon meets his maker. Tune in next week for the exciting season finale of "The Neverending Story of The Highly Political Charge and Unnecessary Israel-Palestine Conflict".

Come on, is it that hard to live in peace and harmony? On last count, Malaysia has more than three different races and more than two dozen ethnic groups with beliefs ranging from the mainstream single omnipresent entity, to animistic shamans.

We don't make blowing each other up a daily routine.

Another piece of news I'm very concerned about is the teaching of "intelligent design" in USA high schools.

For people not fully acquainted with the US Constitution (which I sincerely doubt), it stresses the separation between church and state. That means you can't mix religion with just about anything formal.

Here's where Darwin is proven right. Supporters of the huge wooden boat able to withstand 40 days on the high seas with enough provisions for every species of animals (strange isn't it, when you consider the fact there are no two pairs each of trees?) suddenly change the way the Bible is interpreted by suggesting life is too complex to have evolved from single cell organisms.

Gee, I didn't realise we would all be living in a two dimensional ecosystem if we had things our way.

Although there is no point adding fuel to fire, I am going ahead anyway:

Why is it always the Christian method of genesis the way everyone supports when fighting Darwin's evolution fact?
Why do most people choose to believe that a big green hand in the sky is protecting them rather than hard science?
What would those parochial chauvinists do when extraterrestrial entities are discovered beyond Earth's atmosphere?
If gods promote world peace, wouldn't: MORE GODS = MORE PEACE?
Are you open enough to accept an alternate belief which is closer to the truth, although it runs into everything you have been thought?

I once believe in a god myself, but that was before I was told gods looked like me. Due to a non-existent ego, I imagined god to be one of the most feared natural phenomenon, a lump of smoldering red hot lava.

"Adults" however, having developed a culture of worship and obeisance, painted gods as human-like entities.

Think about it. I did, at the tender age of 5.

Nice Week

2006-01-01T17:32:00.000+08:00

Ignominious, Expediency, Misogyny, Baluster, Indigenous, Churl, Trite, Cussing, Slinky.

As the title suggests, I had an excellent week, except for the fact that I paid FIVE RINGGIT for a cup (actually, make that 1/5 of a cup) of coffee at Coffee Bean.

I believe it was an espresso macchiato, the idea being that once you drink an espresso, you are allegedly guaranteed to stay awake for I don't know, till 2.00 a.m.?

Here's the problem - the instant coffee I brew at home is thicker than the stuff they served me. I suppose to lesser taste buds and wannabe coffee aficionados, the RM5.00 drain water might be strong; but I guarantee you, the extra strong mocha coffee I brew at home using generic instant coffee, generic instant milk, and generic cocoa powder has more kick that the diluted sludge they dare to call espresso.

Oh, and free internet access at Coffee Bean is a lie (which was the reason I went there in the first place). Never again will I visit overhyped upmarket franchised coffee houses for their coffee.

On a happier note, WiFi access is indeed free at Starbucks. Take note however that coffee is more expensive than "recreational" drugs in the Netherlands.

On an even happier note, TV2 has finally redeemed itself in the eyes of the investors (if there are any left) by airing some exciting new movies and tv series, especially The Lord of the Rings and Stargate: Atlantis!!!

My only gripe is that they released Stargate: Atlantis quietly. So quietly that I, a self professed sci-fi aficionado, missed seven, I said SEVEN episodes.

By the by, where the heck is Stargate: SG1. It's running into its ninth season in the US and we Malaysians are still stuck at season 3. What gives?

Well, you can't have everything in life, I will just have to do what everyone else does:
Save up and buy the DVD.

Here's to a fruitful and entertaining year.

P.S. If you have noticed, my blog is now licensed under Creative Commons. If you are calling your lawyer right now, I will assume you don't know what it means. Scroll to the end of the page to find out.

In Thunderous Applause

2005-12-25T16:17:00.000+08:00

Quoit, raiment, preclude, loopy, gonzo, rhetoric, coronet, impecunious, empyrean, maudlin.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Chap Goh Mei and Kwanzaa.

There, now that I have given the annual winter greetings, I will proceed to a couple of issues worth the common Malaysian's attention.

Number one on the item is the passing of the Islamic Family Law bill, which if anyone who hasn't just been out shopping, cooking, baking, partying and generally engaging in other holiday activities know, allows Islamic men more freedom in matters of polygamy among others.

Being of a belief (atheism) that doesn't practise polygamy, nor any experience of it, I will not pass judgment on the lifestyles of some people and how they treat the women of their lives.

I do however wish to highlight a certain aspect of the entire episode, which was much more displeasing and disappointing then the actual content of the bill itself.

In a shocking revelation, the nations alleged democracy is revealed to be nothing but a pretentious whimsical farce when a certain minister who was recently in the limelight as a leader of a certain human rights caucus declared he would invoke the Whip to prevent any vote against the bill by women MPs within parliament. All 19 of them.

Invoke the Whip; and it turns out another senior minister of a darker skin tone could also invoke the Whip.

I don't know about you, but my sick, twisted mind has conjured up images of (content not suitable for younger readers) and of merchandising deals - "Invoke the Whip" T-Shirts anyone?

For those precarious easily influenced minds who have not quite reached the maturity to understand what this means... Go to www.disney.com.

For those who do, I'll stress again: the Judicial and Legislative Branches are now ONE! No more checks and balance, because ministers who oppose the bill or any bills for the matter will scream, shout and cry, but in the end, will vote for something that betrays not just their conscience, but that of Muslim women all over Malaysia.

This begets the question - what next?
Answer: Every man in Malaysia is entitled to a free houris from birth.

The second issue I wish to highlight is the increased vigilance of censors in Malaysia.

You know what I mean.

Here I was, watching an episode of The Nanny when I realized the censors working overtime. Here and there, words like jerk and damn not to mention entire phrases and sentences replaced with the Malaysian way of censorship - silence.

Come on! When you remove the word stiff from an innocuous sentence like "I'm not as ~ in the morning..." which was meant as a repartee that Mr. Sheffield was not as strict as Ms. Fine implied was turned into something quite insidious by the censors when they replaced the word with the silence of space.

Those hypocritically parochial morons should have realized that only people with matured minds would have understood the joking reference to sex and only uptight, prim and proper individuals (e.g., the Taliban, Al-Qaeda, religious fundamentalists) wouldn't laugh along.

Kids are of course, excluded if they don't understand. I know, because I watched The Nanny when I was 5 and I still laugh as hard then as I do now, because jokes mean different things at different ages.

For example, the Jack and Jill went up the hill... nursery rhyme. Then, it was just a weird illogical poem. When I first heard this poem, I thought it was pretty odd to be writing poems about a boy and girl fetching water from a well on top of a hill and then falling down from a life threatening height.

Now, I understand that it was an allegorical piece about teenage sex set to nursery rhyme.

Sorry, got a bit carried away there.

The way Malaysian censors work is an interesting case study - they censored the tone of variable frequency and amplitude emanating through the vocal cords of the actors as if they have a grudge against "talkies" but, didn't care to remove the Bahasa Malaysia subtitles of the spoken words.

Hmm... From here I conclude that the censors intend for us to insult one another in Bahasa Malaysia and if we ever need to exchange sexually charge repartee, we should do it in Malay.

Having nothing else to do and nothing else to censor, these morons have also targeted a rerun of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart: Global Edition.

It was the same show, only with some content further removed. Most conspicuous was how Jon's use of the Hindu god Lord Ganesh was removed. Yes my Hindu brothers, the censors are doing religious profiling.

Now, if only there were people out there reading my weekly blog entries then I can count on my fingers, my assessment and views would be more than just wasted Internet storage and bandwidth, people might actually start making a difference.

On that sour note, I end my last blog entry of 2005, see you next year.

Live Long & Prosper,
May The Force Be With You,
Be At Peace With Death.

P.S. If you are wondering about the title, it's a reference to what Senator Padme Amidala said during Revenge of the Sith after Darth Sidious dissolve the Galactic Senate.

Enough said.