Genies Are BANninated From Entering Malaysia

Listening to: None




What?! What about Mastika, Bacaria, and Harian Metro?!

Oh, maaf encik! We said "From Entering". NOT the local ones already here. Summore TabloidRia Editor oso ask us to stop business competition from foreign genie story. Lagipun, mereka pun kena makan jugak, ya?


Bloggers Howsy, The Malaysian, and Walski has some info on the recent censorship of a couple of articles in The Economist. Apparently Genies from other lands are now subversive and dangerous to the meek mind of Malaysians.

Read the article in The Sun here. Yes, over here. In The Sun, here. (No, not the UK one which is infinitismally worse)

Who knows, perhaps the Government's right. Readers of The Economists such as professionals, businessmen, and the financially savvy might start soliciting the services of Somalian genies for Big Big Luck in the KLSE instead of our local toyols, jenglots, and other spirits. That would srsly damage the local bomoh & sinseh industry, no?

But while The Economist is censored for stories on genies, our local trash tabloids are free to continue with their weekly Kisah Benar and "True Stories" of ghosts, zombies, ghostly zombies, pontianaks & vampires (or 'vampyres' for you neo-Gothics), corpses turning to a dog's-corpse, then to a pig's-corpse, and then to a Cannibal-Corpse, etc. etc. etc. . Heck, I saw a couple of them on sale at 7-11 this noon. Go figure...


Speaking of Mastika magazine, I remembered seeing one on the newstand at the kedai runcit/grocery near my school back in the 90s. It looked like (and was) a somewhat intellectual albeit nationalist magazine with articles on Malay literature, poetry, and other serious issues. Then later, a new editor would come in and give the mag an entirely Extreme Makeover. Yep, Mastika would now be about ghosts, jumping corpses, evil devil-worshpping indie-rockers plotting to overthrow the government, bomohs, rapists, rapists-cum-bomohs, and more ghosts. And yes, there will be genies. But none of that boring polemic from goateed poets.

So I Was On The Bus Earlier Today

Listening to: Yo La Tengo - I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One

The first cellphone I ever saw was when I was eight. It belonged to my dad; a bulky Ericsson that was installed in his Honda Accord and was powered by the car's cigarette lighter. As with most cellphones in the early nineties, you couldn’t bring it with you. Those you could carry were large heavy black blocks with a tall antenna. You could use it to bludgeon snatch-thieves and muggers or stab them with the antenna, and then call your girlfriend afterwards to say you’ll be a little late...

Fast forward to 2007, and every six months they come up with a new phone with even more features than before. Last year’s model is now obsolete… sorry mate, can’t get ya’ accessories for that. Before switching to Samseng (a hand-me-down from my well to do cousin when she got a newer one), I had an NEC e238, and before that… a Nokia 5185 while in the States. Large antenna, monochrome LCD, unscratchable, unbreakable, and no SimCard (like many American phones at that time), it was your oldschool cellphone.

But they don’t make phones like the 5185 anymore. The clamshell NEC had the metallic paint flaking off after several months of use, and deep scratches on its flimsy plastic casing. Nice flip-open & close sound however. And when Malaysian stores started phasing out the NEC models, I had difficulty getting a USB cable for the phone. Upon learning that people change their phones every year like their underpants to appear “happening” and “trendy”, the execs must have realized it wasn’t worth the effort anymore to design phones with armored casings. Phones that won’t break/scratch when you drop them from arm’s-height.

Or maybe they designed them so they’ll break or look all worn and chipped after a year so people would be compelled to buy new phones. Nice business strategy. Did the egg or chicken come first? Anyway thanks, assholes.

* * * * *

On the bus, I heard someone’s cell go off: It was a classical music piece, probably Beethoven. Later, another cell rang: ringtone was “Hollaback Girl”.

Then a friend called me: “Beeep Beeep”, went my phone. Oldschool ring.

This guy sitting next to me asked: ”Cool! What ringtone is that?!”

Another guy on cellphone use.

And Minishorts gave an LG away...

The Kitten Killing Machine

Listening to: The sound of fingers hammering a keyboard...


While living in Madison, a friend of mine asked me & the others this question after we had a few too many rounds of Leinenkugel's Red:

"Suppose we have this machine that will save a human life anywhere in the world. Everytime it works, a human is guaranteed to be saved. But for it to work, it'll consume twenty live kittens for every human it saves from hunger, AIDS, cancer or etc. The death of the kittens will not be painless either. Will you use it? ... And no, it runs only on live, untranquilized kittens, although live puppies can be substituted."


Through the slight haze of 5 beers and Camels, I knew this had something to do with animal-based research.


But anyways, would YOU use it?

A Movie So Terrible, it Crashes Your Computer... Literally

Listening to: Rilo Kiley - Take Offs and Landings

=======================================

I said a month ago I’ll write that damn review for Turkish Star Wars. But first, a mathematical question:

(No Budget + Remake) * Blockbuster Movie * Turkey = ???

The answer is Turkish Star Wars. Officially, its titled Dünyayı Kurtaran Adam, or in Inggeris Language: "The Man Who Saves The World”. Now, a film given (officially or not) a title like “Turkish Star Wars”, “Indian Predator”, or “A Chinese Tall Story” should immediately warn you about the potential camp within. Campiness so lethal that it will probably kill 5,000 hipsters and indie-scenesters in lab tests.

Before we continue, I’d like to thank www.planetidiot.com for the stills and scenes below…

I had chanced upon this while browsing through Wikipedia’s list of worst movies, and the nature of the title kinda attracted me to look, and download. You know, it’s the same reason why people are drawn to look at the Gorgons. Or like Nazis to the Ark of God… to which shortly their heads all asploded. Curiosity in this case however didn’t kill the cat, but many of my brain cells and computer.

A little background on TSW… or so says Wikipedia. It was filmed in 1982 when American movies weren’t easily available on screens. So, local directors had an easy way to make some cash by ripping off the script and remaking it. Like what Hollywood’s now doing with those increasingly generic horror films from Asia.

Once downloaded to C:\ , I hit the PLAY button. The movie started with Ali & Murat (who I’ll refer to A&M), our two “heroes” fighting the Death Star. Or more correctly, the Egg of Death. The director hadn’t even bothered to get the aspect ratio right, don’t talk about the script.

A rotten egg in a totally rotten film

The duo and their wingmen spacefight a bunch of TIE-fighters in a valiant effort to fire two torpedoes into the exhaust pipe, or so I thought. Random scenes of Imperial Star Destroyers, the Death Star, TIE vs. X-Wings, and lazers flash by as the two crack one-liners at each other. A&M have nice motorcycle-helmets with add-on antennas on top to make it look… er, spacey.

Nice helmet dude. BTW, you're in a starfighter not an F-16 at 10,000feet.

Cue to the Indiana Jones music (yes, seriously) playing with yet another scene of Star Destroyers blasting away. I came to realize A&M are actually flying the TIEs, and they have to defend the Death Egg from those pesky Rebels.

Mission Failed. Thanks to the Force, the Death Egg is destroyed. The dynamic duo crash on a rocky planet, unfortunately they weren’t killed so this movie can end and I could proceed next to the infinetly better “Central Station”. Extracting themselves from the wreckage of their spacefighters, they both walk around looking for signs of civilization.

A bunch of skeleton troopers attack after they whistle to attract help (and women). Hillarity ensues in the fight scene where our heroes jump and twirl around beating the shit out of skeletons in Spanish conquistador helmets. To the tune of Indiana Jones again.

Well, they’re women all right. Super-thin supermodels, to be precise

These ARE supposed to be skeletons. Srsly!

Well, eventually they’re caught by slightly more competent minions led by a robot made from an orange siren-lamp and a plastic rubbish bin from Wal-Mart or Tesco. The baddies are apparently lackeys of a mysterious wizard named Komutan.

Can you believe this?

This dialogue sums my thoughts on the movie...

But they escape once again…

Anyways, A&M flees to a system of caves with men, children and a woman who look like they’re reserve members of the Polyphonic Spree, or from the nearby New Age commune. I’ve never liked the Polyphonic Spree even though their music is in one of my favorite films, and it was to my joy that their hideout was discovered and attacked by Komutan’s minions: black bears, giant evil Elmos, and toilet-paper mummies.

The robe-wearing hippies discover their Flower-Power isn’t a form of martial arts, and definitely useless against Evil Muppet characters. I guess Guru Yogi Tipoobessar lied to them. Some flee, but many are killed and turned into toilet-paper mummies.

I've heard of Christian Transubstantiation of bread to flesh, but flesh to toilet paper?!

There’s also this creature with deadly spaghetti on his paws. Only our Dynamic Duo, the woman, and a little kid escape the glorious massacre.

A&M next go to a cantina where they get into a fight with several ethnic stereotypes. But soon Komutan reappears, and teleports them to his court. Komutan was the one who sent those X-Wings, and his agenda is to conquer the world and probably rule it together with the iron-fist of Princess Leia and his majordomo C3PO. This is perpetually astonishingly unambitious! Apparently, mankind is in the hyperspace age and colonizing far-flung regions of the galaxy, but Komutan is still stuck on dominating some shitty planet. Some ambition he has…

However, his attempts have all failed thanks to a “shield of concentrated human brain molecules”, which makes no fucking sense. To destroy those molecules and open the door to World Domination, he needs a human brain. Which is impossible to get in this movie, since this film has no sign of intelligence whatsoever.

But they have no brains, sir. Nobody in this movie does, especially the director!


Thats nothing, old man. i'm 25.

A&M are subjected to a live burial to kill them gruesomely, but fail thanks to Komutan not buying enough potting soil from the intergalactic gardening shop.

They will, but I won't endure this torture of a movie

Non sequitur old man. There's NO intelligence anywhere in this movie.
Buy more soil next time, BTW.

The duo escapes again, kills the Evil Elmos and defeats the Level10 Dire Evil Spaghetti-Thumbed Monster by jumping around, much to the joy of the oppressed populace…

The duo are separated when Ali, the woman, and the pesky brat is captured by Komutan once again (sigh, these people NEVER learn!), leaving Murat to find a mystical sword and brain (yes, brain) in a cave guarded by four members of Devo in golden jumpsuits. Anyways, after defeating Devo’s Mothersbaugh Bros. and the Casale Bros., Murat recovers the magic sword.

Energy Domes/Flowerpot Hats not included

Meanwhile, Komutan’s orders his wife to seduce the captured Ali in a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume. Murat arrives just in time to rescue his captured buddies. A hilarious battle scene again, with arms chopped off Evil Elmos and incompetent skeleton troopers. Ali however, is slain in the escape. Yay!

The saddened Murat vows revenge and melts the sword into a flowerpot (yes Virginia, it was a flowerpot) and forges a new pair of golden boots and gloves, probably attracting the attention of Reebok executives. He then sets out to defeat Komutan.

Checkout Murat's new Reebok Goldeboots... HOLY SHIT!

Its at this point where my computer decided it had enough and crashed, displaying a bluescreen. IT CRASHED!! I’m telling the truth here. It crashed and bluescreened, because OF THIS FILM!!!

In a way, it was a blessing. Had I watched the movie uninterrupted from start till the end, my brain would have been permanently destroyed. The rest of my life would be spent at the asylum in Tanjung Rambutan.

I read from other reviews later that Komutan sends all his minions in a concentrated Zerg rush to eliminate the irritating two. But, evil prevails and they’re all defeated. Komutan gets karate-chopped into two pieces. The… fucking… End.

Lousy movie, but Turkish Star Wars scores extremely high on camp factor. Sooooooo bad, it’s somewhat good. Or so they say. Since its ripped off without Mr. Lucas’ permission, you can see it for free here on Google video. Let it stand a day to fully transfer. Or if you don’t mind risking your hard drive and processor, its freely downloadable on Bittorrent. Either way, you’re already playing dice with your sanity. However, alcohol and several friends along will help viewing Turkish Star Wars more bearable.

But… you have been warned.

I rate Turkish Star Wars at Minus 3.5 stars out of Positive 5.0 stars (-3.0 of +5.0). I tried to get a more sensitive reading on the scale of 10.0, but the sheer idiocy of the movie immediately destroyed my precision equipment when I turned on the vacuum-tube amplifier. I have to place an order tomorrow with Agilent, Tektronix, and GE for new equipment…

Warning, Turkish Star Wars may or will cause the following symptoms and complications; nausea, eye discomfort, confusion, irritable bowel syndrome, permanent cerebral damage, optic nerve inflammation, paralysis, diabetes, asthma, and fatal hilarity. Do not watch Turkish Star Wars with an academic standpoint to avoid permanent brain damage. Viewing Turkish Star Wars without the influence of alcohol or company of friends is not recommended. BrightEyes will not be responsible for complications arising from Turkish Star Wars, physical or mental.

Happy Happy New Year...

Listening to: 11.11 - Regina Spektor











Less than 6 hours from now, and it'll be 2007.

This year has felt as if it was 15 months to me. Time tends to stretch when you're kept busy with work and your hobbies. Especially when its your first job...

It was also the year where a small bunch of folks in Penang started a tiny alt-film club. Attendance has been decent, with 10 to 12 people per screening. As of now, we haven't decided on a name...

Anyways, I'm avoiding Gurney Plaza at all costs. It'll be jammed to the brim with hordes and hordes of people, and I don't want folks jumping up and down on my car. Its pretty hard to get spares for an Oldsmobile...

I'll be spending the night with some pals, including several who are in a band. Mr. Jack Daniels and Dr. Jim Beam will be joining. If it means waiting till daylight for the alcohol to drop to the legal level, so be it. Once again, its hard getting spares and collision repair for a 1961 Oldsmobile. And Life has no "Load Saved Game" you can use if you ever get killed.

Drive safety. Drive wisely. Mr. Daniels can be a good friend, but never let him get behind the wheel with you.


So Happy 2007 to everyone!

And Selamat Hari Raya Aidil-Adha to the Muslim bloggers & readers like Walski, Kris, and Yasmin. And who could forget Menj too, despite his bile regularly thrown at those Khristiens, Boodheests and Hindues?! :-D

Who Knew Suburban KL Could Be This Depressing?

Question: What do James Lee, Tan Chui Mui, and Ho Yuhang have in common?

I) They use a lot of long drawn-out shots in their works
II) They believe film must be used to project the glory of one's race.
III) Very little dialogue is used in their movies
IV) They believe Turkish Star Wars is the best movie... eva!!

A) I only
B) I and III only
C) II and III only
D) IV only

To get the answer, read the review below...

A month back, I met Tan Chui Mui at a screening of various short films at Han Chiang College. My friend and I chatted with her and her pals on bits and pieces of stuff about local alternative films and our still-unnamed film club. Her directoral debut "Love Conquers All" was set for release on Dec 21st. I got several leaflets for her movie, and I was going to be her unofficial "Minister of Propaganda and Advertizing" in the Penang area.

The film had won a couple of awards at the 11th Pusan International Film Festival earlier. All the more to see it, methinks...

Come Dec 21st and I went with several friends to the theatre. There were only five people in the theatre at first... all my friends. But later, we were joined by two more pals and later another ten strangers came in and sat at the back.

One thing I hate about Malaysian cinemas are the barrage of commercials they roll before the film actually starts. Back in 2000, ads never exceeded 15 minutes total. Now, you have to endure 35 minutes of propaganda for beer, cameras, cellphones, cellphones with cameras, sanitary pads, cars, "lifestyle massage chairs" and other stuff. You pay RM9 for this assault on your eyes. Something must be done...

We Malaysians need to act on this commercialist overload. Not by tossing rocks, popcorn, or small animals at the screen (that will get you kicked out), but with sarcastic remarks whenever those adverts play. Feel free to make fun of how Jessica Alba probably never drank more than one sixpack of Tiger in her life. Or those insurance ads where a typical Malaysian family is running around in a field of buttercups and fir trees that probably isn't near Tanjong Malim.

Hey, if you have to endure 30mins of adverts, you may as well make the best out of a terrible situation. Always look at the bright side of life... as Monty Python says.

Anyway, back to the film... which started after the irritating 35 minutes of commercials. Our heroine/protagonist/airhead Ah Ping (Coral Ong) has just moved over from Bukit Mertajam to a suburb of Kuala Lumpur. She gets a job behind the counter at her relative's economy rice stall, located inside a coffeeshop... that looks just like the thousands and thousands of Chinese coffeeshops spread out around the Malaysian landscape.

One thing Tan Chui Mui succeeds in this film is to make everyday items & objects seem mundane and at worst... depressing; all-metal chup-fan stalls, generic kopitiams in single shoplots, public phones, even the all bright-orange bowls, plates, chopsticks and spoons that Ah Ping, her cousin Mei (nicely played by Jiun Jiun Leong), and her aunt uses for their meals. A sense of suburban loneliness and ennui haunts most of the film; occasionally broken thanks to the young Mei with her young optimism and childish but amusing innocence.

In comes Stephen Chua's character, John. Taken in by Ah Ping The Small-Town Girl, he starts following her around to the point of creepiness. And this is where I call Ah Ping an airhead. Because when you have a dodgy looking stranger shadowing you through dark streets and proclaiming his crush on you, basically you should have alarm bells going off in your brain and your hand ready around the pepper spray. But no... she eventually falls for John, even after he takes her on a psycho ride in his Ford and refusing to stop the car unless she professed her love for him. And John's car went on and on till next morning, finally running out of gas in Mukhsinland.

To explain that word a little, they both ran out of petrol near a rural village (kampong). From the urbanized brick n’ concrete of Lee, Ho, and Tan’s world, John and Ah Ping had crossed through the portal into Yasmin Ahmad’s dimension. I expected to see Orked pedaling past on a bicycle at some point.

And here is where our benevolent, all protecting Film Censorship Board displays its numbing ridiculousness: John steps up to the front door of a village house and wishes… “TOOT!” And again… “TOOT!”

Hm, did he say “Fuck you”? No

Did he threaten “Hey old man! Open the fucking door NOW or we’re busting in… ‘Straw-Dogs’ style”? Nope.

It was “Assalammualaikum”, the Arabic greeting. Apparently non-Muslims and Muslims aren’t supposed to greet each other in a language used by Muslims, Christians, and sometimes Jews from the Levant and Arabian Peninsular. Funny, as my Muslim friends and I have done that on many occasions ever since primary school, untill today.

Well, I can now sleep soundly knowing we’re on the right path to much-needed racial and religious understanding in this country. Under the benevolent eyes of our moral defenders in the Censorship Board.

Later, a side character utters “Kan Nin!!” back at Ah Ping’s economy rice stall, uncensored and unbleeped. That means “Fuck You!!” in Cantonese. The censors obviously missed that one.

* * * *

"Girls are stupid. They think love conquers all..."

So says John to Ah Ping, after they both meet his Thai or Indian cousin at a mamak stall. He explains his "cousin" apparently gets a new girlfriend frequently... and then manipulates them into prostitution. A forecast of what's to happen. A warning. Straight from the lion's mouth. And still, Ah Ping hangs onto him.

Love Conquers All. As my friend who came along pointed out, perhaps thats the irony in the title and plot. And love conquered all in this film. All, including Reason, Logic, and Streetwise-ness. Which made Ah Ping cheat on her current boyfriend in Penang and hook up with this... person.

Perhaps, as my friend added, its TC Mui's way of criticism of the media and society's view on the concept of love & relationships. On societal norms that pressures single folks to quickly look for a mate as fast as you can... speed over compatibility. "Happily Ever After", "You're not complete without a man/woman", "When you getting married? You 24 already ah!"

But at the end, where one story ends sadly, another may just be beginning… fuelled by cheeriness and optimism.

Those of you who've seen "Rain Dogs" and James Lee's "Beautiful Washing Machine" would have observed MANY similarities between the three films. No surprise the three directors and have been involved in each others films, in one role or another. Like Lee and Ho, Tan Chui Mui uses visuals extensively to tell the story. You'll find little dialogue between characters. The scenes and their body language shall tell the story more than their own conversations.

James Lee's cinema style is prevalent here... characters are filmed with their backs to the camera and followed around. You'll see it in "Washing Machine". You probably saw it in "Rain Dogs". And you'll see it here too. Complementing the use of visuals and less dialogue are the very long outtakes. However, sometimes those loooong scenes will drag on focusing on the character(s) who seem to be doing something like walking, or using the phone. And then the sudden cut to the next scene...

And this is where I have the thankless task to throw a brick or two...

Tan Chui Mui does well in her first film in shrouding the suburban KL scene with a fog of depression. However, as another friend put it, she doesn’t really do much to tell in a new angle, the all-familiar cautionary tale of a girl who falls into bad company in the big city. I found the use and execution of the long takes to be very overdone and repetitive, nearly making the movie unbearable. A few were somewhat pointless, like the one of a coconut palm filmed against a backdrop of blue sky. Nice perhaps, but does it add to the story and background of Ah Ping & John hanging out in the front porch of the kampong house?

While The “Beautiful Washing Machine” and “Rain Dogs” transitions its scenes somewhat finely but with bumps here and there, Tan does hers rather suddenly. It’s as if you’re driving at 80 on this segmented concrete bridge, and each segment is five to six inches higher than the next.

It would be great if the Three Directors explore new grounds and innovations in their filmmaking, especially the cinematography. I fear that eventual reuse/overuse of the same formula in their next films may result in disappointment amongst local film-goers who have been looking towards fresh offerings from Malaysia’s alt-film world.

Despite its drawbacks, Love Conquers All is a decent, although rough debut for Tan Chui Mui. There is room for improvement in her later works. All in all, I have to give Love Conquers All 2.5 stars out of 5. To be more accurate, 5.3 on a scale of 10.

Another review by Ben McKay at Kakiseni.

How about another by Swifty?

Do They Know it's Halloween?

Listening to: Nothing



Penang to the Klang by bus takes an average of 5 hours, assuming your coach doesn’t stop at that traffic purgatory called the KL Pudu bus station. As I had not bought my ticket a week in advance, the only Saturday ticket left was on an "SE Ekspres" bus. My favourite company “Triton” had all sold out. For those of you who had the misfortune to ride "SE", you might have some horror stories of dirty seats and insane drivers who will take an aging bus with a dead-stiff suspension close to the speed of sound, perhaps overturning a few Kancils in its wake.

On my first trip with “SE Ekspres”, the bus was barreling straight through at 110kph, even through those treacherous downhill bends before Ipoh. When it rained near KL, the driver would not slow down from 100+. The Dutchman and his girlfriend sitting at the front will have some very interesting stories to tell their pals when they got back. The second trip was much safer, but I spotted two roaches crawling on the seat in front of me. The old man seated there didn’t notice. Well, perhaps what you don’t know about won’t kill you…

Fortunately, the bus operator for yesterday’s trip could not provide an “SE Ekspres” coach, either because the old wreck had broken down or had crashed en route to the Sg. Nibong station. They offered a “Bandar Ekspres” instead which was much cleaner, although the rear suspension was pretty fucked up. The driver was safer, though it was a little unnerving when he overtook that fuel tanker in the Ipoh tunnel. It was almost 8PM when I arrived.Klang has seen a rapid growth in development during the past 6 years when I was in the States and Penang. New townships have sprung up; more McMansions, cookie-cutter terrace houses, and identical shophouses where estates used to be. A whole lotta oil palm trees had been bulldozed over for a new township, ironically named “Bandar Botanic”. Glass seemed to be the rage among architects, as many of the buildings constructed in the past 3 years appeared to use it in liberal doses, despite the tropical climate.

Sunday morning, I set off in my family's old BMW; an ageing 2nd-hand car purchased many many years ago from an uncle. In an unsuccessful quest to find the legendary Istana Mat Deros, I took a journey to neighboring Pandamaran. It had been a while since I drove the car, and because of its age it had developed several interesting traits; the fuel gauge was always at “F”, and Reverse takes several seconds to engage. At least the Straight-5 engine was still reliable, although it consumed more petrol than before…

Well, I hope you had a nice Xmas on Monday…

I Got Coal This Christmas!

Listening to: Nothin'

I'll be back home in Klang/KL this Christmas weekend. A well deserved (or perhaps undeserved) rest from the past two weeks at work; where my team and I have been rushing to meet deadlines before the Xmas season. That explains the lack of updates to this site lately. Apologies for that, assuming if anyone reads this...

As for me, I got not just one lump, but three train-wagons full of coal from Santa. But every cloud has a silver lining. I sold them all to the local power station for a fair bid of money. Now I can buy myself an iPod to replace that CD/MP3 Discman of mine. Ho Ho Ho!


Anyho, Merry Christmas to you all!

The Hillarity Of On-Blog Advertising...

Listening to: Nuthin...


I've decided to keep my site free from adverts, especially those automated ad panels on the sidebar. Thats because AdSense tends to take words from your articles, and then display irrelevant advertisements that coincidentally had those words in it, sometimes (if not mostly) to hillarious effect. For example, I could be writing about the risks of a potential nuclear holocaust from North Korea, and then Adsense will display an advert about meeting Jewish women (you'll probably have to go to Penang for that), or buying yarmulkas online.

Complain on your blog about your Sony television that broke this afternoon, and you'll get a link to a shady website guaranteeing you a PlayStation 3.

Talk about Kramer from Seinfeld's racist boob on TV, and next thing you know you have links to breast enlargement pills & pr0n sites on that little panel on the right.

Another one is this method called Pay Per Post where you get apparently get paid to whore... I mean endorse products and services in your blog entries. Now thats great if you write an adblog about Al's Line N' Tacles and your blog's about your fishing hobby. However, its a little er... contradictory if you're an anarchist in Malaysia and blog about this great credit card deal thats only applicable to US residents (excluding US islands territories and Puerto Rico). Or lets say you blog about how corporate interests has fucked up music & how you only listen to bands which no more than 5 people have heard of and have emo hair... and then next write an asskissing glowing review about Paris Hilton's newest album out on MTV. Way to go you sellout!

To Adsense's credit, if they're not situationally hillarious, they're much less irritating than those damn popup ads. Especially those that flash "YOU ARE A WINNER!! CLICK HERE!!" at 200 frames-a-second, as if they're trying to give you seizures.


Two cases in point...

Put Jesus (Jersey No. 6) in midfield, next to Landon Donovan...
(pic from ytmnd.com)

Where religion & sex mix

And by the way, a post I agree with...

I'm Busy, Don't Bother Me!

Listening to: The Corrs Unplugged


I've just gone to that newly opened Borders bookstore in Penang. The slightly disturbing thing is athough in the States, Borders is considered as yet another chain bookshop which you can find in almost every strip mall, by Malaysian standards their selection is considered "diverse".

I got meself a music mag & a Tintin comic and now I'm reading about what The Shins are up to. So I won't be posting stuff 'bout last week's gig & movie at 60 Weld Quay, or me being at Paku's recording for their new album.


Here are a few links for you instead:

The Best Page In The Universe (it says so!)

The Asylum

Run your own nuclear power plant

Its Dot Com!

Welcome To Ancient Egypt!

The Ultimate Act In Kiasuism?

Listening to: Nothing again...


Kiasu: A Hokkien Chinese phrase (Kia-Su) that means "afraid to lose". In colloqial Malaysian and especially Singaporean terms, this is a psychological fear of losing out or appearing inferior.

Among the Malaysian and Singaporean Chinese (although this applies to all ethnicities today), a harsh social and economic environment of cutthroat competition has caused many to adopt a kiasu mentality in their life and retations with family, friends and society itself. Singaporeans were, and still are considered by many (including Malaysians) to be ultra-kiasu... however in the 90s, fast paced development and the eventual economic meltdown in 1998 has led Malaysians to levels of kiasuism occasionally rivaling their Singaporean counterparts.

But still, the consensus is Singaporeans hold the No.1 spot for Kiasuism. You can celebrate that fact, Singapore... and perhaps declare a National Kiasu Day for that too...

The kiasu mentality leads to all sorts of amusing stories, as the overly competitive person applies it everywhere to the point where courtesy and civilized behavior is sacrificed for personal "prestige" and selfishness. Examples that you may be kiasu:

• Getting a new BMW 3-Series just because your neighbor Mr. Woo just bought himself an Audi. (Meanwhile, they're both laughing at my "junk" Oldsmobile 88 from 1961)
• Overtaking me in my Oldsmobile 88 just after I passed you in your new BMW on the expressway. For some reason, no car is permitted to pass you in your new car, especially one from 1961. And you have to do it with NO INDICATOR and nearly clipping my front bumper in the process.
  
• At a restaurant/hotel buffet, you pile an obscene replica Mount Everest of food on your plate... not because you intend to finish it but because you paid $30 for it. After all, its your right to do it, no? Nevermind that half of the food will not be consumed by your greedy gut and left to waste.
• You always compare your children to Mr. Lim's children, who always gets full A's in their exams. And you have to forcibly enroll them for piano lessons, violin lessons, karate classes, Mandarin classes, ShiFengshou rapid calculation classes*, in addition to the extra classes they area already taking after school.
• If you're Singaporean, you drive across the Causeway to Malaysia so you can buy cheaper groceries, and save $40 in the process. Nevermind that it takes you at least 4 hours and 1/3 a tank of gas.
• If you can't have it, nobody can. You'll go all out to discourage or sabotage others trying to achieve something; be it some material item, success, or their lifelong dreams simply because you know you can't, or are too scared to try to achieve it for fear of failing and appearing a "loser" to others. See: dog in a manger
  

For my brethren from Yankeeland, equivalents of kiasuism include the following; the dog in a manger scenario, "following the Joneses", overcompetition, or consumerist sheep mentality. Example: Malcolm's mum from "Malcolm In The Middle". Actually, that describes most suburban parents in the West nowadays... but that's nothing compared to Singaporeans and Malaysians.

Anyway, this has to be the most disgusting act of kiasuism ever applied. Surprise, surprise... It had to be done by a Singaporean:

Flat dweller hanging condoms out to dry irks neighbours

HANGING laundry out to dry from a flat window may be acceptable, but condoms?

A Singaporean high-rise dweller is said to have resorted to recycling used condoms by “air-drying” them from the window of his flat, according to a report in China Press.

More than 100 used condoms were put out to dry, according to a disgusted neighbour.

The woman, known as Tan, was quoted in the daily as describing the act as “gross and disgusting”.

“This is sickening. You can see from afar that some of the condoms had turned brownish,” she said, adding that the unit belonged to a middle-aged man living with his wife and two children.

Tan, who has been staying there for more than 20 years, said the act should not have been allowed by the authorities as it was unhygienic, especially when it rained.

“Rain water will be dripping from the condoms onto pedestrians walking on the ground below,” she pointed out.

> Nanyang Siang Pau reported that 94 people at a religious camp in Nilai, Negri Sembilan, were believed to have come down with food poisoning on Wednesday after consuming fried mee and rice with other dishes prepared by the organiser.

So far, 85 had been discharged after receiving outpatient treatment while nine others were warded at Hospital Tuanku Jaafar Seremban.

It is learnt that most of the participants started to feel unwell after lunch, with the first patient sent to a nearby clinic at 5pm the same day. By 11pm, the organiser had to hire a bus to send the other participants to the hospital for treatment.

According to the hospital's medical report, 90% of the victims experienced dizziness, frequent vomiting and diarrhoea.

A total of 712 people, aged between 14 and 28, participated in the camp held at a private college in Nilai.

Source: http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2006/12/9/nation/16270339&sec=nation

FUCKING GROSS! I hope the council fines his ass off so he'll realize its not just pure revolting to hang out his condoms to dry, but also cheaper to buy new ones instead. Anyway, I doubt he knows that condoms are single-use items only.




* In the mid 90s, there was this craze among folks to send their kids to learn ShiFengshou Rapid Calculation. Developed by Professor Shi Feng Shou (duh!) from China, you could apparently do arithmetic in seconds without a calculator.

My younger sister was among those pressed by parents to learn how to count sums like '43 X 31', '423+23', etc. & etc. by mental power. Well, she left after 2 months and RM200 (U$55) in total fees, including 8 Saturday afternoons lost. Eventually parents Malaysia-wide realized an RM50 calculator (batteries not included) would, though a little slower by 0.5seconds... accomplish the same thing with much higher accuracy. Plus, it does square root too! And you don't have to pay RM100 a month to learn how to use it.

Suffice to say, the Shi Fengshou branch in Klang is now an empty shoplot.

In Praise of Polyurethane

Listening to: Nothing

Polyurethane (PU) is a plasticy-rubbery material resistant to many forms of damage that would usually destroy/deform other stuff like fiberglass, plastics, and metal (well, deform it in this case). Anyway, the reason why i'm writing this is not because of a potential U$29 check from the Alliance For The Polyurethane Industry (API) but rather two incidences in the past month or so.

At my workplace, we have hi-tech machines which uses a particular component made of a tough temperature-resistant material. It was tougher than the previous material we used, but the problem was it was too tough. It more than occasionally damaged the sensitive substrates we use in our production floor, creating scratches or dents in the substrate material. Also, it was pretty expensive to fabricate these components; about RM600 per piece. This damage and high sticker price got the management breathing down our necks.

Then someone decided to use PU instead, which was just as durable, and much cheaper. Problem solved. For now.


The second incident happened just yesterday when my colleague's Suzuki Swift got rear-ended on the way to work. From the photos taken with his cellphone, the rear fender was initially badly dented .An ordinary fender would be permanently damaged badly at that speed. But being made of PU, the rear fender resumed its original shape eventually save for a small dent above the exhaust.

But he's still claiming from the other guy...


Ok, I better get to sleep now before I start talking about Teflon or Vectran. Lack of sleep does "wonderful" things to the mind...

A Question To Anyone Reading This...

Listening to: Nothing at the moment


If there's actually someone who reads this, I have something to ask. Can you explain what James Lee's "Beautiful Washing Machine" is really about?






My take is its about the "spirit" of the machine who escapes its confines of a green washing machine and its preset role to clean and wash stuff. In the form of a young woman. However, even in human form it ends up being taken for granted by its masters, used, abused, and distrusted.


That reminds me, I've gotta do my laundry....

Upon seeing this movie, I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced...

Listening to: The Execution Of All Things - Rilo Kiley


I downloaded and watched a Turkish movie called Dünyayı Kurtaran Adam, or known as "The Man Who Saves The World" several months back. Filmed during the early 80s, this movie was supposedly a Turkish (duh!) remake of Star Wars, hence earning it the unofficial title of "Turkish Star Wars". At that time, foreign films were difficult to import into Turkey, leaving local directors the choice for remakes with a all-Turkish cast, setting, and an ultra-low budget. Among the result of reproducing sci-fi blockbusters with cheap sets, costumes and a low-budget, my friends... is called "Turkish Star Wars".

Godawful this film may be, but it holds a centain camp value... thus qualifying it for the "So Awful, Its Great" category. At least for me...

I will be writing a review later so you can decide whether to or whether to NOT see this movie. I don't wish to reccomend it and later receive death threats from some unknown persons who felt they had wasted their Streamyx "broad"-band to download this monstrosity of a film and a further 90-plus minutes to see it.

Meanwhile, across the coastal expressway, a massive structure has been slowly rebuilt throughout the past year into a shopping mall. My housemate mentioned that construction on the building was interrupted several years ago due to financial difficulties. Under new management, construction was resumed and just yesterday, this Death Star of a shopping complex was finally opened.



The thing with Penang Island is there are too many malls for too little people. The opening of a new shopping complex tends to scavenge a majority of customers from the other previous No.1 mall on the island. Hordes of shoppers descend upon the new one like a mass of consumerist herd animals, blocking roads in the area and raising traffic and tempers dramatically. Those ever stuck in Gurney Drive on a Sunday afternoon know what I mean.

As for the previously hip complex, it now has to deal with a drop in customers. And when another newer mall opens, the results are even worse. The high-end tenants move out, and the pirated DVD stores move in... preferably on the upper floors.

When asked about their status as the Newest Mall in Penang, officials from Queensbay only had this to say:



I'm not the one too keen over this. I tend to keep away from gargantuan malls as I don't feel good in the strangest of places like long lines that make me wait and especially mall parking lots. I just hope they have a "Rock Corner" over there... one stocked with nice records like the branch in "1-Utama".

In the meantime, I now have to deal with heavier traffic everytime I exit the junction...

How the hell did he get one of those???

Listening to: Swordfishtrombones - Tom Waits


Dato' Nik Sapeia got into a little trouble several months back when he was charged with discharging pepper spray in the general direction of former Malaysian Prime Minister & National Supreme Overlord Dr. Mahathir several months back. If I met this guy, there will be three questions I'd like to ask him:

1. Did you do it? And why?

2. How much in road tax are you paying for your Cadillac limo?

3. Can I have your auto dealer's contact?


Ok, that was four questions.



Dato' Sapeia turned up for his court hearing in this... a Cadillac limousine with a 7.5L engine:

"Ya see, the horsey pulls the limo. Thats what I call REAL Horsepower.
D'ya know how much I save in petrol?"
(Pic from the Sta)

Probably the only Cadillac limo in all of Malaysia. I'm sure that would impress the judge in his trial.


And as for me, nope, I'm not planning to get a stretchhhhhhhh limo or anything like that... I'll leave those vehicles to luxury hotels and airports. Besides, it'll be a pain in the ass to park in my apartment's lot.

Rather, I'd be curious to know from his dealer how much for a right-hand drive 1961 Oldsmobile 88.

A couple of photos of my fave car. Color would come in dark blue...
(Courtesy to Larry for the first pic)

Yep folks, this 24-year old's dream car is a 2 door Oldsmobile 88... not a a Porsche, Ferrari (especially the Enzo, which looks like two car vacuums welded together), Merc, Beemer, or those sweet Japanese sportscars my peers all lust after. Yea Yea Yeah(s)... go ahead... feel free to call me crazy... although I prefer the term "unconventional".


On the other side last week's been busy for me, hence no posts for that time being. Last weekend was spent at the European Film Festival at Gurney, and a screening session of short movies at Han Chiang college. 'Twas at this screening where a couple of my pals and I bumped into Tan Chui Mui, producer of last year's critically acclaimed "Chemman Chaalai". Her latest work, "Love Conquers All" recently won an award at the Pusan International Film Festival and will be released on local screens December 21st, or thats what she said...

I had a small chat with her and her colleagues regarding the local independent movie scene, future plans and work, and the assorted challenges they face including from those inactive hippos at the Malaysian National Film Development Board (FINAS). Hey, did you notice their website is being upgrade (sic)? Crucial to this discussion were plans to expand and improve the little alternative film club we had formed a month ago (and already had two screenings)

Earlier this Tuesday, I read a little article about her in the Berita HAIRAN. Which is somewhat "hairan" (Transl: confusing) given the newspaper's hostility toward non-mainstream film directors. The photo in the paper had her in the same olive green tshirt we saw her in that weekend.

Oh yes, trailer for "Love Conquers All"...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqDK42IbBTw

* * * * * * * *

Bonus link... and definetely unrelated to the stuff above: Music video by Regina Spektor...

Nineteen Eighty Four, Chapter 5

Listening to: (Miniluv unallow music to resume goodthink fullwise)


..........

The preparations for Hate Week were in full swing, and the staffs of all the Ministries were working overtime. Processions, meetings, military parades, lectures, waxworks, displays, film shows, telescreen programmes all had to be organized; stands had to be erected, effigies built, slogans coined, songs written, rumours circulated, photographs faked. Julia's unit in the Fiction Department had been taken off the production of novels and was rushing out a series of atrocity pamphlets. Winston, in addition to his regular work, spent long periods every day in going through back files of The Times and altering and embellishing news items which were to be quoted in speeches. Late at night, when crowds of rowdy proles roamed the streets, the town had a curiously febrile air. The rocket bombs crashed oftener than ever, and sometimes in the far distance there were enormous explosions which no one could explain and about which there were wild rumours.



The new tune which was to be the theme-song of Hate Week (the Hate Song, it was called) had already been composed and was being endlessly plugged on the telescreens. It had a savage, barking rhythm which could not exactly be called music, but resembled the beating of a drum. Roared out by hundreds of voices to the tramp of marching feet, it was terrifying. The proles had taken a fancy to it, and in the midnight streets it competed with the still-popular 'It was only a hopeless fancy'. The Parsons children played it at all hours of the night and day, unbearably, on a comb and a piece of toilet paper. Winston's evenings were fuller than ever. Squads of volunteers, organized by Parsons, were preparing the street for Hate Week, stitching banners, painting posters, erecting flagstaffs on the roofs, and perilously slinging wires across the street for the reception of streamers. Parsons boasted that Victory Mansions alone would display four hundred metres of bunting. He was in his native element and as happy as a lark. The heat and the manual work had even given him a pretext for reverting to shorts and an open shirt in the evenings. He was everywhere at once, pushing, pulling, sawing, hammering, improvising, jollying everyone along with comradely exhortations and giving out from every fold of his body what seemed an inexhaustible supply of acrid-smelling sweat.

..........