the world might go out with a ... nothing?

i came across a website the other day full of end-of-world scenarios and though most of them were blatantly ridiculous, this one piqued my interest. it's a bit of a read, but very interesting. lately i've been stumbling across stuff related to morality, self-conciousness, perception and the reality of this world. it's thought-provoking stuff, nevertheless, but i just have a feeling that there aren't any answers. some say 'to each their own' and some believe in universal laws and rules; ones that apply to everything. i can hardly believe the depth and scope of the writings i've seen recently and i'm really amazed that people can address such vague issues with so much interest, focus and coherence. hopefully i'll have enough thoughts collected to put up an essay here soon, but i've been busier that usual lately with another project and my return to work.

that doesn't mean that the blogging will stop, mind you. the comments, as always, are more than welcome.

a slow march and a master sergeant's salute

and so the commissioning parade unfolded in style. the newly-decorated officers slow-marched to the beat of the band, showing grace and poise uncommon in the nine months they had trained to earn this day. all eyes lay on the rows of white as they approached the stands, step by step. stop. stand. step. stop. standing in the light drizzle when many expected a downpour, the officers formed up again on the parade square as their parents and loved ones rushed forward to tie the ampulets to their sons' and daughters' shoulders. the drizzle turned into a light downpour as the parents were ushered off back into the stands. a command, and the hats came off and were held across their chests. for that moment, you could see the eyes of every single one of them. a moment away, they stood. it was like watching a crossbow being wound up for a good hour before the arrow was released.

a shout. and suddenly, many more voices cried out in unison. hats sailed into the air and before they even landed on the parade ground, the officers were in huddles everywhere, screaming and hugging one another. you couldn't help but feel happy for every single one of them. they'd come a long way to earn that ampulet.

haresh told me afterwards that as he was walking towards the stands to meet his parents, one of his instructors, a master sergeant, came up to him and saluted him.

the day was full of poignant moments. people prove themselves, in my opinion, not by how far they are willing to go, but by how much of themselves they are willing to give to others.

on a route march, some months ago when i was in bmt, i asked my officer commanding what his enemies on the battlefield meant to him and whether he might be scared of getting shot or killed. he replied, "of course i'll be damn scared when someone shoots at me. but all i need to know is that they are a threat to my men and eventually, my family and friends, and that makes me angry enough to want to protect these people with my life. if my enemies dare to harm the people i care for... i won't spare them."

i may loathe war for its cruel means and ends, but i respect the men and women who fight unquestioningly despite being well aware of that fact.

--

"onward we stagger, and if the tanks come, may god help the tanks."
col. william o. darby, u.s. rangers

on another note,

haresh, nabil, giri and a few of the blokes are having their commissioning parade tomorrow. more than anything it's a chance to see that our president is truly well and alive. i pray it doesn't rain (as it has been almost continuously for the last 4 days) despite giri's insistence that rain would make the whole thing look fantastic and that the guys would look really garang('fierce' in malay). right-o. i'm sure you'll really enjoy the dinner after that, sitting there in your dripping wet ceremonial attire.

of course, i better be nice to giri and the rest of em. they're gonna be drawing close to 3 times my monthly pay and i'm going to be much farther down the pecking order than they are. plus i have to call them 'sir' if i see them when we're both in uniform. if you thought the whole 'girls being 2 years ahead in college' thing was bad, this is where it really begins, ladies and gentleman.

well, not really. but i'd like to think so.

and now i can't write anymore,

because everything seems to mimic reality or maybe, seems to want to mimic reality. i can't tell one from the other. i wish i could write freely (which would require my work to remain depressing) but i promised myself (and you) some time ago that i'd start writing happier stuff.

merci beaucoup!

amazing. a french-medium blog just praised my artistic talent (specifically, my ability to draw candles). i knew the blog's title would eventually attract art connoisseurs. see you guys at my debut gallery exhibition at the louvre. check this out.

i love the internet

it puts my friends this far away.

and i type better than i talk.

fecundus, fructus, frui
(literally latin for 'fruitful, produce, to enjoy')

tears crash to the ground
and explode with nay a sound
like raging rivers frothing white
spilling over another cliffside
like a man of age as he gets older
death lurks constantly over his shoulder
he will look it the eye some day
breathe his last and fade away
warriors of men will lie defeated
this history of our will be repeated
no coat of arms can deny death
who sees his work in your last breath
this vapour that walks as clouds in the sky
rain; and gone in the blink of an eye
out sprouts shoot, branch and root
bark, canopy and littered with fruit

a calm, pleasant rot for which there is no cure nor end
a tree, a man and a coat of arms; unlikeliest of friends
and so they all fall, on fortune's whim,

leaf,
life,
and limb.

surfin' around at 80 miles an hour..

mr wong's soup'artments.
the world's tallest virtual building

scrapbook manifesto by jonathan wayshak
strange, morbid art/design that seizes your attention and holds it

albinoblacksheep
miscellaneous humour in the form of flash animations and movie clips

draw your boss
personal runner-up for worst website idea ever.

i think i need to soundproof my room..

i have really nice neighbours. despite the loud racket i have them put up with every evening for the last couple of weeks, i have yet to receive any complaints or death threats. my mother, acting minister for noise pollution control in my family government (along with the other 429 posts she holds), suggested today that i try playing a bit softer in the evenings. alright then, so i won't use the snares. or the bass drum. and maybe i'll cut down on the hi-hats too. oh, and stay away from the mighty crash cymbal. yeah, i'll just play without all those. heck, i'll throw away all the toms because they make sounds when you hit them. nobody should put up with musical instruments making sounds when you play them.

i was playing to lifehouse's everything today. the first half of the song has no backing rhythm to it at all, so i just tried making up everything as i went along. i was listening to the lyrics to get a feel of the song, something i don't normally do, and then i suddenly remembered how beautiful they are. soft, slow lyrics, describing to me, what god is to the union of my heart, mind and soul. simply beautiful.

find me here
speak to me
i want to feel you
i need to hear you
you are the light
that is leading me
to the place where
i find peace again
you are the strength
that keeps me walking
you are the hope
that keeps me trusting
you are the life to my soul
you are my purpose
you are everything
and how can i
stand here with you
and not be moved by you
would you tell me
how could it be
any better than this
you calm the storms
you give me rest
you hold me in your hands
you won't let me fall
you still my heart
and you take my breath away
would you take me in
would you take me deeper now
'cause you're all i want
you are all i need
you are everything
everything

and so the crash cymbal went off and the lyrics drowned beneath the intensity of the latter half of the song. so intense, you don't need to hear what he's saying to feel it. just like faith. i don't wish for that feeling all the time. but i do wish for it some times.

"god whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

- cs lewis, the problem of pain

for he's a jolly good fellow..

happy birthday, haresh. you're 20. which makes you old enough to...

1) almost be legally able to watch restricted(artistic) movies alone
2) almost be legally able to sign documents in singapore
3) almost be legally able to rent cars anywhere in the world
4) almost be legally able to have a credit card
5) almost get into velvet underground

and most importantly,

6) start boiling your own vegetables.

the fortune cookie says:

there are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary, and those who don't.

and the footnote reads:

great plans are in store for the near future. come february, a new domain of irreverence will open its doors to the world. be prepared.

dave's guide to guys

apologies to dave barry, but i really had to put up this excerpt from his brilliant book, dave barry's guide to guys. he's a comic genius.

---

let's say a guy named roger is attracted to a woman named elaine. he asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. a few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and they enjoy themselves. they continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

and then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "do you realise that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

and then there's silence in the car. to elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. she thinks to herself: geez, i wonder if it bothers him that i said that. maybe he's been feeling confined by out relationship; maybe he thinks i'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

and roger is thinking: gosh. six months.

and elaine is thinking: but, hey, i'm not so sure i want this kind of relationship, either. sometimes i wish i had a little more space, so i'd have time to think about whether i really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward... i mean, where are we going? are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? are we heading toward marriage? toward children? toward a lifetime together? am i ready for that level of commitment? do i really even know this person?

and roger is thinking: ...so that means it was... let's see... february when we started going out, which was right after i had the car at the dealer's, which means... lemme check the odometer... whoa! i am way overdue for an oil change here.

and elaine is thinking: he's upset. i can see it on his face. maybe i'm reading this completely wrong. maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed - even before i sensed it - that i was feeling some reservations. yes, i bet that's it. that's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings: he's afraid of being rejected.

and roger is thinking: and i'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. i don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. and they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. what cold weather? it's eighty-seven degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a damn garbage truck, and i paid those incompetent thieving cretin bastards six hundred dollars.

and elaine is thinking: he's angry. and i don't blame him. i'd be angry, too. god, i feel so guilty, putting him through this, but i can't help the way i feel. i'm just not sure.

and roger is thinking: they'll probably say it's only a ninety-day warranty. that's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

and elaine is thinking: maybe i'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when i'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person i enjoy being with, a person i truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. a person who is in pain because of my self-centred, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

and roger is thinking: warranty? they want a warranty? i'll give them a damn warranty. i'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...

"roger," elaine says aloud.
"what?" says roger, startled.
"please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "maybe i should never have... oh god, i feel so..." (she breaks down, sobbing)
"what?" says roger.
"i'm such a fool," elaine sobs. "i mean, i know there's no knight. i really know that. it's silly. there's no knight, and there's no horse."
"there's no horse?" says roger.
"you think i'm a fool, don't you," elaine says.
"no!" says roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"it's just that... it's that i... i need some time," elaine says.
(there is a fifteen second pause while roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. finally he comes up with ones that he thinks might work.)
"yes," he says.
(elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
"oh, roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"what way?" says roger.
"that way about time," says elaine.
"oh," says roger. "yes."
(elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. at last she speaks.)
"thank you, roger," she says.
"thank you," says roger.

then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of doritos, turns on the tv, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two czechoslovakians he has never heard of. a tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car; but he is pretty sure there is no way he would understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (this is also roger's policy regarding world hunger.)

the next day, elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk abou this situation for six straight hours. in painstaking detail, they will analyse everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every ramification. they will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

meanwhile, roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and ask: "norm, did elaine ever own a horse?"

first..

rahul: yep.. oh i was wondering.. what exactly did you say to L? she sounded quite happy with your apology.
damien: oh. there is no privacy in this world. what did she say.
rahul: that she was happy with your apology? was i not already incredibly direct the first time around?
damien: oh yeah. thats good.

then..

damien: and some other shit. i screwed up.
rahul: other shit like? you didn't screw up, man. we all make mistakes. even if it's an error in judgment it still counts. when you screw up is when you don't take the chances you're given to remedy the situation. there'll always be people ready to forgive you.. L seems the forgiving sort, at least. she wouldn't hold it against you.. they teach us to forgive and forget in the bible, don't they?
damien: thank you mr gandhi.
rahul: no, please.. call me mohandas.
(pause)
rahul: oh dear. that was a good comeback. go me.
damien: yes it was. im still thinking of a response. oh well. one nil keerthi.

sunset soliloquy.

leaves lay lightly
beneath broken branches
shadows sit silently
tiding time tonight
waiting, watching, wondering
taking time to
talk to trees
wise willows wake
whisper words
to the trembling
solace-seeking stars

cold calm clears
shadows stir silently
and all abates
darkness descends
watching. waiting. wondering.

okay.. here's the link to the article, as promised.

oh, and there's a mention of my book in singapore cleo as well. if you're a diehard fan of my book then go and knock yourself out with that one.

alright, it's official...

this month's issue of lime has my article in it. i'll scan it in tomorrow and try to put it up here so you guys can read it online. they (expectedly) murdered half of what i really said, but it doesn't make me sound like a complete jerk, so i'm cool with that.

the quote they put in to pique the readers' interest was terrible though, and one which (of all things) i didn't even say:

"i wouldn't consider myself a frustrated artist. that sort always attracts girls who pity and want to rehabilitate them."

i did actually give them the first line there, but now i know what 'paparazzi' victims mean when they say 'taken out of context.' no matter. the magazine article is finally out so i hope random people will start making donations.

oh, and they described my book as 'gritty.'

gritty? wtf, mate.

and for those people who miss thematic analysis tests in literature class...

here's a little extra from my recent short story, deus ex machina:

in the last bit, when aurelie heads around the corner from the big iron gates at the park, and the guy catches up to her, there's a short exchange about how their names didn't matter and that the memories do. they have the large iron gate between them at this point in time and are conversing through its vertical bars. iron, spiritually speaking, is known to represent the natural order of things, or in other words, the way everything must be. so it's just there to kind of signify that. i reckon nobody would've noticed it, so i thought i'd just mention it here.

there are one or two more references in the story, but i suppose they're too personal to explain fully. i'll just leave them out completely.

quick, robin! to the current affairs!

movie reviews

the lord of the rings: the return of the king <--- click on the link to be taken to the site where you will be greeted with the voice of a sleep-deprived viggo mortensen.

just a few thoughts before we begin: even though this movie was as long as some tamil and hindi movies, the the screenwriters made it a wise choice not to have the actors and actresses break out in spontaneous bouts of song and dance, even though the opportunity presented itself several times. (like the scene with the king of the dead. they could have easily started singing the bone song which goes something like 'the head bone is connected to the shoulder bone. the shoulder bone is connected to the arm bone!' and how contagious would that be? they never would have made it to minas tirith on time.)

also, in an exclusive interview with phillipa boyens, one of the pricipal screenwriters, i discovered that there were a few scenes and references included in the movie to appeal to diverse audiences. for example, minas tirith in old english literally means 'oil-hungry america' and the orcs and uruk-hai all look a bit familiar, don't they? yes, that's right. they're all based off of models of afghanistani and iraqi rebels. also, local indians would realise that the new king of gondor is aragorn s/o arathorn.

anyway, back to the review. the movie was indeed breath-taking. i won't deny that. it was as epic a conclusion as anyone could have imagined, complete with crazy minions, undead warriors, gigantic war machines, improbable odds, death-defying stunts and legolas managing to survive an entire 3 and a half hours of reel-time without so much as a blemish on his skin. at the end of the movie, we can see legolas standing in close proximity to eowyn, and so, it is without any doubt that the women who watch the movie in the hope that he will remain single (so that he won't seem unattractive anymore) will be sorely disappointed. he's most certainly got something going on with the dwarf, gimli.

the acting was excellent, throughout. ian mckellan was fantastic, just as he is as magneto, in x-2. it's a bit disheartening when you realise that gandalf the gray's (or grey, depending on which part of middle-earth you're from) bad-ass weapon against the forces of ultimate evil is a bright lightbeam that emanates from his staff. and to think he had to slay a balrog just for that. bad deal.

viggo mortensen, as aragorn, continues his part as the hard-up, tight-assed (can't be too tight-assed with legolas around), sleep-deprived king-to-be. he wields the anduril, flame of the west in this part of the trilogy and it is a truly fantastic weapon. of course, he lost it sometime later after he became king and it was never found till recently. i spotted it the other day at caesar's in far east, going for a hefty 500 bucks. only geeks of the ring need apply.

legolas. well. nancyboy here has a good time and doesn't do anything particularly cool. except maybe take out a mamaluk and the men it was carrying all by himself. he wins the award for 'coolest character of the two towers' and is the runner-up for 'fairest skin of them all', losing out narrowly to galadriel (cate blanchett).

gimli. john rhys-davies had his legs amputated at the knee to play this role and he does so convincingly. gimli is as brash, foolish and impetuous as ever. still good for a laugh, though.

sauron. needs eye-drops after this one.

frodo. took the long ship to nowhere for reasons that one can't fathom. unless 'one' read the book. cheat! bad 'one'!

sam. no more hugging master frodo.

gollum. did he end up in hot soup or what? i guess the heat got to him. or maybe, he couldn't keep his cool. he must be burning with anger now. what a fiery character, he can be. he should let off a bit of steam, really. i think frodo had the hots for him.

arwen. does some miscellaneous moping and tearing here and there. liv tyler is pretty. lucky aragorn.

onto the sound effects: screech. swish. kabang. boom. rawr. crack. snap. zing.
the right sounds in the right place at the right time with the right intensity makes for good listening. an aural treat. (not illegal in singapore... yet.)

visual effects: excellent throughout. except for this one bit with frodo entering mount doom which just looks awful any way you see it. terrible.

watch it how many times? two. it's too long to watch more than twice. that's 7 hours of your life you're frittering away. you'd want to watch it twice for that very reason, though. it's so long that you tend to forget details, like what the first scene is. (a smeagol vs deagol hell-in-the-grassy-knoll match-up for the undisputed title of 'the one-ringbearer'.)

rating? two thumbs up. and frodo's ringfinger.

---

the school of rock

school of rock is a hilarious comedy starring jack black and a team of youngsters with fantastic musical talent. despite the seemingly simple premise and the lack of depth in the movie, the humour prevails while touching on a topic that is generally seen as taboo to parents: the world of rock and roll. jack black acts as dewey finn, a band reject who decides, in desperation, to earn money by relief-teaching at a high-class prep school, a job he steals from his long-time buddy ned schneebly (mike white). dewey soon realises the class' potential and tries to turn them into a rock band, while disguising his efforts as a class project. his take on rock and roll and his let-loose insanity will have you laughing long and hard. in between jokes, the talent of the young musicians will leave you going 'wow,' and regretting all those years of running away from music. of course, do not be fooled. you'll never be as good as these kids, and no, it's not that easy to pick up rock music. trust me.

standing out is joey gaydos, who plays zack, the lead guitarist. the boy is a genius. he's got quick fingers and that spaced-out look on his face that will make you laugh as the uncool becomes cool.

a stellar performance from a cast of unknowns, a wild, standout performance by jack black, a plot that doesn't have too many holes, lots of great music and an audience without too many expectations of this movie makes for great movie experience. catch this if you can. and if 'the man' doesn't let you watch it, stick it to him and tell him to step off!

rating? two thumbs up, while the other 8 thrash out a face-melting guitar solo.

---

scary movie 3

they should've titled this one scary movie 3: no longer scary because it hardly spoofs any scary movies anymore. the only proper mention here is 'the ring' and at a stretch, 'signs.'

i made the mistake of watching this movie just after the excellent school of rock, so the jokes didn't seem that funny at all. i actually could see a whole lot of them coming from a mile or two (or maybe 8?) away.

"y'know.. when are we gonna stop living up here, and start living down here?" not funny. really.

excessive, ridiculous violence like 'boy gets hit by ceiling fan and flies out of nth-storey window' stops being funny after a while, if it was funny to begin with. the first two scary movies were funnier, and they weren't all that funny anyway. and now that the novelty is worn off, the screenwriters should seriously consider looking at making the next one in the vein of 'funny movie 4.'

rating? a finger.

in one year and out the other (to murder an old expression, that is):

so this here's my first post for this wonderful leap year. cup half empty says an additional day of my national service that the army gets and cup half full says 'hey, you had three weeks off either side of the new year. what else do you want? a vacation to koh samui?'

to which, with a cheeky grin, i say 'yes, please.'

anyway, recovery's been good. i started on physiotherapy this week. have been doing weights, swimming and now i've started on the stationary bike. can't get my knee to bend anything less than 90 degrees without pain right now, because of all the swelling around the ligament. i can walk normally, but the stiffness bothers me. all in all, i'd say i'm well on my way to recovery. hopefully i can start jogging again in two weeks, then running and in a few months i hope to be back in action, risking life and limb in pursuit of exhaustion and sweatjoy.