Ola!

Its February. The tail end of it anyway. And I have been away from blogging for a while.
Yes, beyond noticing my knack for stating the obvious, the more astute of you would also realise that I am writing again ..um obviously.

Explaining my disappearance would not only dissipate the air of mystery that I have carefully architectured but it would also take too much effort. Especially on my part.

Suffice to say that new leaves have been turned, fresh chapters begun and life is being lived as it should, as oppose to wringing my hands complaining that its driving past too fast and at my displeasure.

Its good to be back. Expect more changes...

The Story So Far

Teoh Beng Hock's Inquest

80%?

In most books, an 80% chance would be a resounding yes.

80% would be enough to remove an MCA leader.

So why do the newspapers insist that its 80% and not, yes Teoh Beng Hock was murdered? No cry for justice? No movement to seek out the perpetrators? Are they really banking on the 20% chance of a reasonable doubt?

Our government controlled newspapers are the epitome of national conscience and freedom of the press, don't you think?

Evilness in the Air

We know how unbelievable our politicians can be when making statements but this had me gagging.

http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/10/20/nation/4934516&sec=nation

Politicians are evil and particularly so if its MCA since I don't know any one of them who does not have major business interests to protect with the full might of their YBhgs.

And for them to smell something foul, its irony of the year.

Happy Deepavali

A time for family, reflection, joy and ladoos

Have a safe one

It has the word Ninja and Cat. How can I resist?

70s children - we are the new old

Quoting movies is corny. But this is not to be confused with paraphrasing and dissecting Hollywood wisdom. So I have not been reading much these days but hey, with 4 seasons of SuperNatural to watch, (which translates to 4 seasons of Jensen Ackles), all femalekind at least would understand.

Anyway, that was not the movie I was refering to.

After a long hiatus from cinemas of any kind, Surrogates starring Bruce Willis intrigued me. The fact that the trailers showed Willis with hair was reason enough to watch although upon paying 10 bucks for the movie, I found the plot weak.

Anyway anyway - in the opening, the Voice, always wise and philosophical, as all movie voice over guys sound, emphatically declared that we are increasingly experiencing the world through our screens. Or something to that degree.

As TheBwadah's fren would say, and I quote, "No shit, Sherlock".

But it is an astute observation. Urban living has necessitated quick and easy entertainment that allows us to live life vicariously. Hell, we watch TV shows about people a million miles away eating food and drinking coffee. We watch Xandra Ooi holidaying in lake kenyir. We root for our favourites from who can race around the world the fastest to who can lose the most weight. All at the click of a button (TV remote or mouse -your poison).

What gives?

Has this something to do with my perpetual assessments of life priorities again? Oh, most likely but I am just pretty freaked that I have not seen it coming.

The mad dash to touch and hold on to the expanding red ribbon that is the middle class has reduced most of our best and brightest into easy to please high achieving automatons with little time for anything else. A Brave New World with a twist. Your life for a soma tablet.

Worship to Randomness

The above is an inflatable Jabba the Hutt costume. How can anyone NOT want that? Forget Princess Leia's slave costume, THIS is the thing to bug your parents/wife for.

Isn't that enough to make you forget to wonder why was I surfing for StarWars costumes in the first place?

For the 21st of September

This was supposed to be yesterdays posting but I fell asleep.

Cat's Dream

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings
a series of burnt circles
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.

Paulo Neruda (translated by Alistair Reid)

Shh, listen to my blood