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Monday, January 12, 2004
12:43 p.m.
I had a pleasant dinner with a Lt-Col Ong (RMAF, ret.) on Sunday night at Thai Kitchen (SS2). After dinner, we were conversing, and the subject turned to our military experience. He was, of course, far more experienced than I can ever hope to be.
Anyway, the whole conversation reminded me of one particular incident I had in the jungle.
That night, we set up camp near a river. Most of the men took the opportunity to take a bath. We had been wearing the same pants for about 5 days now. I set up tent with my tent-mate, L-Cpl Hisham. My tent overlooked a rather steep ravine, and so I was confident that not many enemies would be attempting an attack from this angle.
As night fell, the cheerful sound of soldiers bathing slowly gave way to the sounds of the jungle. There's nothing quite like it. The sounds of the jungle at night can be very eerie. Strange screams, the sound of bamboo rubbing on bamboo, all the ghost stories you were laughing at by the campfire suddenly return and you find that they're not as funny as you thought they were.
Sometimes, you swear you hear an unnatural sound... something you swear is not of this world. And you just close your eyes and tell yourself "It's just that damn Sergeant fooling around".
Eventually, fatigue set in, and I drifted off to sleep. That night, I was awakened by footsteps stopping by my head. Groggily, I thought it was my platoon-mate telling me it was my watch. Before I could do anything, I felt a tug on my M-16.
One thing you learn fast in the army is NEVER EVER LOSE SIGHT OF YOUR WEAPON. Where I go, I ALWAYS take my M-16. When I take a shit, my M-16 takes a shit. And when I sleep, I cradle it and hold on to it fast.
As I felt the tug, I refused to let go, but the tugs continued. I thought to myself, "this can't be my platoon-mates, can it? Why would they want to take my M-16?". And then I felt something smooth caress my neck. As the tugs and caressing continued, I started to freak out. Keep in mind my eyes were closed the entire time, and I refused to open them for fear of what I might see. So there I was, eyes shut, pretending to be asleep and hugging my M-16 for dear life as someone or something was tugging at it.
Eventually, the tugs stopped, and I heard footsteps walking away. I finally awoke when my platoon-mate called me by name and told me it was my turn to stand watch.
On hindsight, it may very well have been someone wanting to play a prank (not very likely, since it was a military exercise, and you tend to be a bit more serious). But, every one, no matter what you believe, gets a bit superstitious when you enter the jungle.
Monday, January 5, 2004
09:17 a.m.
Happy New Year Everybody!!!
The incident of the police speedtrap
Power is corrupting. And I'm really easy (you can take that in ALL contexts, and I do mean all).
So I'm at the Kinrara road, heading from Bkt Jalil to Puchong, and I'm doing about a 100 in an 80kph zone. And lo, there's a police speedtrap. Oops.
I am pulled over. So I turn off the engine, wind the windows down. Cop says "hallo. Tengok lesen memandu." He notices the TENTERA sticker on my windshield. I take out my license and Army ID card. We have a nice chat, he smiles, and let's me go. He even says "Terima kasih."
Nice man. There were like 5 or 6 cars all pulled over, and I'm the only one who pulls away in less than a minute. Life's unfair, and for once, it's in MY favour. Although it's times like these I worry I enlisted for the wrong reasons.
The incident of the idiot Hobbit
FINALLY saw Lord of The Rings III Return Of The King (Elvis). I must say I wasn't that impressed. And, when I thought about it, I wasn't really that interested in any of the Rings movies. I just ain't a Tolkien fan.
And what really annoyed me was Frodo "I'll walk into every booby-trap imaginable" Baggins. THAT got REALLY annoying.
Gandalf : Don't wear the ring. It's evil.
Frodo : I shall put on this ring.
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Samwise : FRODO!!!! It's Nazgul!!! Hide, quickly!!!
Frodo : I shall climb the highest building.
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Gollum : Do not follow the lights and don't fall into the swamp.
Frodo : I shall look into the lights and fall into this swamp.
-------------
Gollum : That's the city of the dead. Don't go there.
Frodo : I wonder what's in that foreboding-looking city of the dead. I shall go there.
And some "Ring-bearer" he is. He kept trying to give it away. Gave it to Gandalf, Elendril, er... that's all I remember.
Gandalf : Frodo, you are charged with the sacred task as Ringbearer. Only you may carry the ring, and bring it to Mount Doom (otherwise known as Mount Someone's Going To Lose A Finger) and destroy it.
Frodo : DOES ANYBODY WANT THE RING???? ANYBODY? I'VE GOT A RING HERE.... ANYONE INTERESTED??? Here, you take it. No? Ok, how about you? Hey, you, mister. Here, do you want this evil cursed... er I mean pretty ring?
The way I see it, Samwise is the REAL hero of the story. And everyone's yelling and cheering "FRODO! FRODO! FRODO! Is Frodo still alive? Frodo is our only hope! Only Frodo can do it! etc. etc." and they were like "Oh, and that... other guy he's with. Yeah. Him too."
And when the ring finally gets destroyed (No thanks to Frodo IWIEBTI Baggins, by the way), they cheer "FRODO!!! HE'S DONE IT!!!"
Even when the two Hobbits pass out, Gandalf's eagle only picks Frodo up. Then, the other eagle's like, "hey, he's left this other chappie behind. Better pick him up, just in case."
And then everyone's waiting for Frodo to wake up, and they all cheer him, and Samwise walks in unnoticed. And everyone's like "YAAAY!!! FRODO!!! Oh, hello... Sam, isn't it? What are you still doing here? Go... plant an onion or something."
And what's with all those endings??? The whole cinema was like "Aah, good movie and er... oh. Yes, it's ended now and.... oh. Ok, that looked like the ending to me er... oh.
Erm, is it over now?"
Which is probably why the malay translation, when the movie finally said "The End", said "Tamat... !!" with two exclamation marks. I can imagine the translator going "Ah... tutup kedai... erm, oh. Ok, habis cerita... oh. Erm.... bila nak habis nih?"
So, yeah. Return of The King (Elvis) wasn't that great.
The incident of the oggling
I must admit, I am still at a loss as to malay girls, despite having dated one for about a year (we've since broke up).
You see, nearly every Saturday, I spend my mornings in an office in Cheras, doing voice-overs for educational VCDs. I believe some of you are aware of this. Anyway, this one day, I was lazy and couldn't be bothered to put on proper clothes, so I went in shorts and a t-shirt. They weren't short shorts, just bermudas.
You should have heard the cat calls and whistles. And they were all checking me out. I must admit, as much as I enjoyed the oggling, never in a million years would I have expected my CALVES to be the object of lust. I mean, of all my body parts, my calves were the bits I least expected to be oggled.
This then reminded me of the time someone asked if I wanted to be a stripper at a hen party.
Monday, December 22, 2003
09:13 a.m.
Come Friday morning, as I was getting ready for work, I received a surprise. Not a rude one, not a pleasant one. Just surprising.
I'm putting on my shoes, and I look down. The, erm... annex... well, I'm not sure what you call it, it's just an extension of the living room with the bay window thingy that's SO popular these days. ANYWAY, the lights for that bit of my house were on, and I look down, and in the good light, I realise my socks don't match.
I've been wearing mismatched socks to the office for the whole week. As you can probably tell, I live a very fast-paced life.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
07:48 p.m.
You know what the world needs? It needs an 8-DAY WEEK. The eighth day could be Octoday or Kenviday or Whateverday.
That way, we get a 5-day work week and 3-day weekend. 3 DAYS. At the very worst we have to work 5 1/2 days (you Asian work-mentality bastards), you still get 2 1/2 days off, which is pretty decent.
Think about it. It's entirely possible. The years and months work independently of the week. Months never begin on the same day. Nothing, no natural or scientific cycle depends on a 7-day week. It's COMPLETELY arbitrary.
The only problem would be the Christians. So God made the world in 6 days and rested on the 7th. Maybe He took the 8th day off too. You don't know for sure He IMMEDIATELY went back to work. And anyway, after all that creation, He just sorta wandered around the garden and stuff, which I don't really call work.
So, write your assemblyman today. Demand an 8-day week.
Friday, December 12, 2003
04:47 p.m.
I think I just pissed off a friend (ex-friend?). She informed me that her sister's boyfriend's friend (bear with me here) died in a car accident. Drunk driving.
My response?
HAH! Serves him right. A wee bit rude, I agree. I couldn't help it. I feel no pity for people who die from stupidity. I'm a strict darwinian. You drive like there's no tomorrow, there won't be. Simple.
Anyway, she said that, idiotic though he may have been, he was still someone's son, daughter, father, brother. Erm, take out daughter. That may be true, said I, and now they are paying for his stupidity.
And what if he had killed someone? Wasn't that someone else also someone's daughter/son, father/mother, friend?
Good riddance, is what I say. These people, they just 'bazir oksigen'.
So, I was thinking, would I be so cavalier if that someone was my friend, or someone close to me? I guess I'd lose my objectivity. Still, right now, I believe I'd feel the same way, just less vocal.
Funny thing, innit, objectivity? Now that's yer double-edged sword. Good in some cases, bad in others. Take the law, f'rinstance. Has to be objective, yet compassionate. Morality and ethics above law? Who defines morality?
Morality, of course, comes from the Latin word "Moralus", which means "I'm right, you're wrong. I'm going to beat you with this big heavy stick". And ethics comes from the Latin word "Ethicus", meaning "Didn't I already beat you with a big heavy stick?"
So there you go. One less annoying car on the road.
Monday, December 8, 2003
12:07 p.m.
Saw Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Rings (extended version).
Scene where Frodo is being healed by Elrond:
"Hello Mr Baggins, we missed you." (Agent Smith voice)
Scene where Ringwraith is foiled at small pier by Hobbits on boat:
"Oh, you pansy. It's just a bit of water." (says Wraith to horsey)
Scene where Ringwraiths meet the Hobbits and Aragorn again at the tower ruins:
"I thought you said we got them, Gerald." (says one Ringwraith to another... I don't know, pick one)
Scene where Ringwraiths are once again foiled at river while chasing Arwen who has Frodo in his arms:
Wraith: Oh come on Baltic, it's just a bit of water. You pansy you.
Horsey (Baltic): Look, Phillip. I haven't taken a bath in 3,000 years, and I'm not about to start now, alright?
Wraith (Phillip): Just cross the river. It's not even a real river, just a stream, really. And it only goes up to your ankles. Oh, come on. I'll give you a sugar cube.
Baltic: Oh, alright.
They cross, and then there's this huge wall of water coming at them
All wraiths: SCARPER!!! AAAAAA!!!
As they bugger off, one wraith says to another:
Wraith: You know, Cecil, I reckon we'd go a lot faster if we threw away all these heavy bits on our horseys.
Wraith (Cecil): How many times have I told you, Roger. They're EVIL STEEDS OF THE NIGHT. They are NOT "horseys".
Wraith: Umm... Cecil, my horsey... sorry, EVIL STEED OF THE NIGHT has to go poo poo.
Cecil: Not again... very well. Make it quick, will you Stephen?
Stephen takes his hor... EVIL STEED OF THE NIGHT to go poo poo. The other wraiths wait
Gerald: Quiet in the woods, isn't it?
Other wraith: You know, I think there used to be a little roadside shop just down the bend a bit... sold really great mince pies.
Other other wraith: No, no. You're thinking of the Eternal Forests of D'el Broqnoth, mate. That was the forest with the mince pie shop. I remember that little old lady, because she had a crush on ol' Basil here.
Wraith (Basil): She did NOT!
Phillip: Oh, yes she did. Always gave you a slightly larger mince pie, she did.
Cecil: Will you two knock it off! Ah, here comes Stephen. Right, off we go!
Friday, December 5, 2003
10:42 a.m.
Astronomy has always held a fascination for me. I also find it very annoying. There is nothing like the sinking feeling of insignificance when one learns about the vastness and greatness of the universe.
Astronomers tell us that the Universe is shaped like "swiss cheese", or a net. Galaxies are grouped into "Groups" which form "Clusters" that form "Superclusters". And these Superclusters are shaped like huge strands of thread that criss-cross to form a "net", with great big holes of nothingness between each Supercluster.
And then there's us. Little gooey blobs of existence, who have, through religion, convinced ourselves that we are indeed the "ultimate creation". The universe is perfectly, incredibly magnificent, majestic, brilliant (and other superlatives) on its own. But we still insist on giving its existence "meaning".
"Why are we here?" we ask ourselves. We're born, an awareness and existence we didn't ask for thrust upon us, and we are cursed to survive, and then we die. And we wonder if there is intelligent life elsewhere in the vast cosmos. Why should there be? There's hardly any on Earth.
What really annoys me in Church are the wankers who get up and praise all the Good Lord's creation, and they say things like
"Oh, look at the greatness of God's creation. The eagles, the mountains, the beautiful sunsets, bla bla bla, yadda yadda yadda."
Real noble, mate. Everyone likes eagles, and wolves and bears. Nobody likes rats, ants, bugs, slugs, creepy crawlies, ugly buglies, dung beetles, snakes, worms, germs, infested swamps, mud, mosquitoes. Aren't they God's creations too? Sure they are, but nobody's impressed. We get all teary-eyed as we marvel at the pretty stuff, then we turn our nose at the yucky stuff.
Sometimes I get the urge to stand up and praise stuff like boll weevils, gila monsters, snails, maggots, vultures, centipedes as examples of God's wondrous creations (I attend a Brethren Church with open worship, so we can do that sort of thing).
Humans. So easily amused. I admit I am. I myself am fascinated by shiny things. I think most people are. That's why we value jewelry, precious stones and precious metals so much. I mean, we're willing to kill each other and commit henious crimes for shiny stuff.
So, yeah. Astronomy. Fascinating stuff, but bloody annoying.
Wednesday, December 3, 2003
04:11 p.m.
How do we know the universe is really like it is? I mean, take vision. Light bounces off objects and our brain interprets. What if our brains interpret differently? How do we know my brain processes images the exact same way as yours? What colour is Blue, really? I see it as, well, blue. But what if you see it as a different colour?
And sound. That's up to our brain's processing again. What if the way I hear things is completely unique, and the way you hear things is different.
Is that why we have different tastes in music? How some sounds are pleasant to some but grate on the ears of others?
1. No, this is not from Matrix. I've been wondering for years.
2. Yes, I DO have a lot of free time.
Monday, December 1, 2003
04:19 p.m.
Stuck at a red light the other day. I stared at the red light and willed it to turn green. You guys ever do that sort of thing?
Just stared at the red light and sorta waved my hands and said "GREEN!!!"
And lo, it turned green. Better than David Fucking Blane. Now this is street magic I'd really like to see.
Oh, and I can disassemble and reassemble an M16A1 assault rifle in under 1:30 minutes.
Friday, November 21, 2003
09:18 a.m.
Aah... it's that time of year again... not only do I get a WHOLE WEEK OFF for Raya, but it's also one of my fave times of the year. I speak, of course, about...
CULLING TIME
Yep, time to wipe out the idiots, retards, anally-retented, inconsiderate, selfish from off the face of the Earth. The only downside is that some innocents will be, unfortunately, sacrificed in this exercise.
I suppose EVERYONE, from amateur bloggers (blorbers) to writers and columnists has at one time or another commented on Malaysian drivers, and how terrible we are on the road. And, of course, we whine and whine on about how we should be more tolerant, considerate, use our signals, etc. etc.
Let's get real. It ain't gonna happen. Idiots will remain idiots, and nothing short of a death threat will NOT make them change their ways. Even then, it's pretty iffy.
So, yes. Culling time. I am told that more than 32,000 people have died so far. Which means we are off to a GOOD start. More dead means less people and less cars on the road, which is always good. And remember, we're talking about idiots who cut in line, drive like maniacs, overtake on double lines, etc. etc. So not only are there less cars on the road, it also means that it's the idiots and retards who shouldn't be allowed to drive who are removed.
I think, we should let all these morons drive home first. Let them drive like crazy, get into accidents, DIE, and leave the road clear for courteous drivers.
So yes, to all Malaysian drivers out there, DON'T BE AFRAID OF TAKING RISKS!!! GO ALL OUT!!!! DRIVE, DRIVE LIKE YOU'VE NEVER DRIVEN BEFORE (which is mostly true, when you think about it)!! Don't worry! You'll probably make it through that bend...
Aaah.... after the Raya holidays, I shall eagerly await the death toll... KL roads will be slightly less congested, and the idiot population will be controlled.
See? Culling is a good thing. The only downside, as I mentioned, are the innocent drivers caught in the crossfire.
Monday, November 17, 2003
12:50 p.m.
Boy, I had a weird dream last night.
I dreamt that it was Dr Mahathir's last day as PM, and his last act in office was to take me and my friends to this dodgy video game arcade to play games.
Anyway, I got up to this machine, Prince of Persia 3D, and put in like 1 Ringgit in odd-looking coins, and it turns out it really isn't Prince of Persia 3D, but some knock-off game. The graphics were really crap, but I seemed to enjoy myself. Dr M seated himself in a driving game.
Next, I've been enlisted full-time in the army, and have been accorded quarters in this high-rise flat. The only problem is, to get into the individual flats, you have to climb over the railing. The contractors put them up to prevent people from falling (obviously), but somehow forgot to put gates or openings so that people could walk into their flats.
Anyhoo, as I climb over the railing to enter my flat, the whole building collapses, and I hear this newsreport from a reporter who's pinching his nose. And the whole building is made out of wet cardboard.
And then I woke up.
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
03:14 p.m.
I am a wee bit depressed. I just heard from my army mate, Private Loges. It turns out that the annual camp I missed this year was REALLY fun.
Shit.
They did a combined armoured assault, with APCs. You know, carpet the area with artillery, then an armoured column punches through enemy lines, then a large force of APCs surge forward, disgorging troops at the front lines.
Just like in the movies. The doors open, and troops pour out, laying a line of fire, with a seargent with vocal chords the size of a small African country yelling
"GO!GO!GO!" (or in this case "CEPAT! CEPAT! CEPAT! PUKI MAK KAU, CEPAT LAH!!!")
I don't get the saying "You can't have your cake and eat it too." I mean, of course you can! I've personally done it. I've had my cake AND ate it.
Seriously. There I was. I bought a cake. I had it. I put it on the table, still had it... took my fork, still had it... and I ate it. And I still had it. What's not to have, while you eat your cake? It's right there, in front of me, owned by me, while I was eating it.
I have a cake. I am eating the cake I have.
Which brings me to my main point: Hair. In my entire 22 (sorry, 23 now) years of existence, only once was I happy with my hair. Ever since I started school, every morning when I combed my hair, there was a small rebellion on my head.
I wanted to comb my hair left, it wanted to stay right. I wanted it to stay down, it wanted to stand up. Finally, after coming back from London (crap haircuts there as well), I went to this indian barber, and he cut it PERFECTLY. I LOVED WHAT HE DID TO MY HEAD... I actually LOOKED GOOD. Wow.
The next time I went there, he wasn't around. So another dude cut my hair. Didn't really like it, but, oh well. I went there again. Magic hair man was still AWOL. And again, and again. So I asked this old guy, "Where's the usual man who cuts hair?" He's gone back to India.
Shit.
Thursday, November 6, 2003
01:18 p.m.
GOD : Ok, Noah...
Moses : Moses
G : Right, Noses.
M : Moses. With an M
G : YES YES, WHATEVER. OK, Listen, M-OSES.
M : Yes?
G : Listen very carefully, because I'm going to give you the ten commandments.
M : What's that.
G : Ten commandments. It's really important rules on how to behave.
M : Can't be THAT important...
G : What do you mean? Of course it is!
M : How come you've only now decided to give it to us then?
G : WHAT???
M : I mean, if it was SO bloody important, wouldn't you have already given it to Adam?
G : Well... I just now thought of it. But they're REALLY important.
M : Ok then. Tell the whole world.
G : That's what I'm doing. Write this down...
M : Hang on, hang on, hang on.
G : WHAT.
M : If they're so bloody important, why're you asking ME to write it down, instead of you going off to the whole world doing that whole "big light with fire and other fancy bits from the sky" routine?
G : I think this way is better. Trust me.
M : Right... this is SOOOO important, you're asking an old geezer to write it down...
G : Yes, upon which you will tell the world.
M : What, the whole bloody world? Even China?
G : Well, obviously not THAT far. Just your mates. That's a good start.
M : And they'll spread the word...
G : That's the idea.
M : And of course, if anyone asks where we got these rules...
G : Commandments.
M : Sorry, "Commandments" from, we tell'em, it's from God himself.
G : S'right.
M : And they'll believe me.
G : I don't see why not.
M : Supposing they ask HOW it is they came to know this is what God wants.
G : Just tell them "God appeard to Moses as a burning bush, and gave the ten commandments to Moses."
M : And they're going to believe ten commandments based on some old bastard who goes round talking to burning bushes?
G : Look...
M : They'll think I'm daft! I wouldn't listen to strange old men who wander around mountains going round talking to every burning bush they see!
G : Look, they’ll believe you, alright?
M : I’d be worried if they did! Imagine what sort of world we’d live in, if we all obeyed strange old men who talked to inanimate objects! “Oh, we’ve got to stick cheese sandwiches in our ears every Sunday, because some crazy old man heard it from a talking potato!”
G : Ha ha ha. Are you quite finished?
M : No! And you can forget about me being your errand boy!
G : Noah...
M : Moses.
G : Sorry, Moses. Just write the bloody rules...
M : You mean commandments
G : RIGHT, right. "Commandments" down, and go off and tell your people, alright?
M : Fine, fine.
G : And be careful! Don't drop them.
M : Yes, yes, yes.
G : Right, here you are. Now bugger off.
Tuesday, November 4, 2003
10:05 a.m.
Bah. Nothing like possible life-changing decisions to really make you realise your mortality. We're all on this really fast roller-coaster with no handlebars, and there's no way we can get off, and an enigmatic ride controller-type person with a strange sense of humour.
And you can't stop it, and no matter how nauseous you feel, you still have to ride it out to the very end, and whenever you open your mouth, it's only to scream.
Very bad analogies aside, I have been struck with a recent bout of WTFAIDWML (What The F**k Am I Doing With My Life) syndrome. Nowadays, it doesn't just strike in the wee hours of the night, at say, oh, dark thirty.
So you sit back and wonder about the future, about the past, wondering if you've made the right decisions. You wonder what if you made the wrong ones, and the right one is sitting right in front of you, sipping teh ais. And you ordered Indo mee goreng and you realise you aren't very hungry at all.
I also have to ask: Have any of you, while driving, just felt the urge to swerve wildly and hit something... or plow into another car/ped/etc... or, while holding a knife while cutting up a sausage for dinner, just hear this little tiny voice inside asking you to stab the person next to you. Slice their hands off, or saw their head off, that sort of thing. Then plunge the knife into your own stomach?
Me neither.
Well, that's life. Life is like a plate of Indo mee goreng. All stringy, oily, and you have this distinct feeling the cook was picking his nose while preparing it.
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