dad just called. grandpa passed away.
he told me to call grandpa over the weekend because his bronchitis acted up again and this time it was serious enough that he had to be hospitalised.
i didn't call. i didn't forget. i was too lazy to pick up the damn phone.
it's just all the world's guilt and me now.
i don't wanna be seen as the prodigal son, the unfilial grandson. i didn't even get to say goodbye.
fuck.
Monday, March 24
| a sad day... |  |
| dirty little politics | |
politics is perhaps one of my least favourite subjects, not because i'm against it in principle. in fact i think it is absolutely necessary because without politicians, we'd all become a bunch of barbarians and savages. rome would not have been the mighty republic without its senate, even though it's filled with aristocratic scumbags.
however the reason with my dissatisfaction with politics in general lies with the fact that politicians are all two-faced fucks (pardon my french). The taiwanese election just concluded on saturday. as expected Ma Ying-jeou from Kuomintang (KMT) beat Frank Hsieh of the ruling party.
in principle he's against Taiwan's independence, calling to boost economic ties and normalisation of cross-straights relations and what not. but isn't that what the notorious outgoing President Chen promised before he came into office? well, minus the anti-independence part. it turned into another story once he actually got his grubby meathooks on the steering wheel of the behemoth bureaucratic machine. like i've always maintained, absolute power corrupts absolutely.
there is simply no certainty in the politics business. it's as much about dirty deeds and power plays behind the scene as actual politicking as seen by the noble citizenry. and oh yea, i love watching the parliament in taiwan on tv. well not particularly the topics up for discussion - those are usually about as interesting as the life story of a sloth.
the main attraction is how they take democracy to the next level. i think chinese people as a race do not mix well with democracy, because in my opinion it's in our genes to be hot-headed and and get carried away with what we do. effective democracy demands a rational, well-informed citizenry, who possess their own opinions and judgments and are not easily swayed by nonsensical hearsays or become cantankerous mobsters at the slightest provocation. we (chinese people) either go for outright dictatorship ala ancient china, pseudo multi-party socialism ala present-day china, *self censored in fear of persecution* democracy in singapore, or steroid - laden - about - to - explode - in - your - face kinda democracy in taiwan.
the drama in the taiwanese parliament amazes me: people spitting on one another, throwing coffee mugs at each other, outright bar-brawl style kungfu fights breaking out at random, speakers screaming profanities at the top of their lungs into the microphone. and these are just some of the more common "happenings" to say the least. to an outside observer, it's nothing short of jaw-droppingly hilarious.
and interestingly, i actually read the news article about the taiwan election at al jazeera. it's not half bad really, somewhat a refreshing change from your everyday western observers' point of view.
read more: Taiwan's Opposition wins election
Saturday, March 22
| ticked off... | |
okay now i'm really ticked off. because i have been leading a frugal and austere lifestyle since last december. that means no excessive binging on fast food (which is a waste of money), controlling my habits when i do go out, no new cds, t-shirt buying put on hold, no more new shoes, NOT CUTTING MY HAIR (okay this one is for another reason i shall not go into) and finding ways of earning money.
and i have saved a considerable amount, not that much but enough for the original intended use:
which takes place here:
doesn't it look lovely? so being my naive self, i finally decided to put my plans to action in the past few days. so i checked the jetstar website and a round trip to hong kong would cost me about 200 odd dollars, close to 300.
i was pretty happy up till this point. seeing that i could probably make this work and it signals my partial independence, planning this all by myself and not having my parents pay the airfare all the time. so i went about getting myself some awesome tickets, probably a shiny 3-day all-access pass to the event. and the moment i read what was written on the website i was horrified. the tickets for public sales were already sold out last december!
in a moment of panic, i tried, in a frenzy, to search for websites that still sold tickets, and these are the flabbergasting sight that greeted me:
footballtickets.eu.com : roughly S$824
soldouteventtickets.com : roughly S$982... right, the name said it all
getmein.com : same story...
worldticketshop.com : a whopping S$1393 !!!Now compare these to the original official price:
HK$1080 = a mere S$192...great, the grand total would have run up only to about S$492, and i don't even have to stay in a hotel like those tourists, only if i'd bought the tickets earlier. i'm starting to hate myself, all hopes have gone down the drain. i don't know when will be the next time that i'll be able to catch the hong kong sevens again. the fact that i'll probably stay there for a month before uni starts does nothing to help. now, why did i miss the singapore sevens in 2006? i'm hating myself really badly right now. and when i'm pissed off, i tend to spend money, like there's no tomorrow. argh...
Friday, March 21
| another outing! | |
yesterday was great. i've been looking forward to another outing to catch up with the lovely people of 63. and i counted 18 people!
zhengyan looks so happy
donkey smiling away. he was saying how this girl kept looking at him -_-"
congregation of the...?
must be something on the floor...oh and i almost lost my wallet sitting on the floor. it was right beside me. apparently some cleaning uncle swept my wallet away and gave it to some security guard who called me up to go collect it. so embarrassing... anyways, see you people next saturday at stelly's house for steamboat again! this is like an outing galore, can't wait!
Wednesday, March 19
| why wash your car? | |
on a fine beautiful sunny morning, the common sight in the car park downstairs staggers me: middle-aged men washing their cars.
what a meaningless way of passing the time. you don’t wash your vacuum cleaner or your television set, you have a machine to wash the dishes and you employ a maid to clean your windows. so how much do you have to hate the sight of your wife and children before you think, “i’d rather go outside and spend a couple of hours shining my wheel nuts”?
i am aware, of course, that many men do hate the sight of their wife and children. doctors even have a name for these people: “anglers”. but even the concept of sitting in the drizzle by a canal for six hours fishing for an elusive luohan fish is not as daft as washing a car.
first of all, it’s very hard work. you have to do all the exercises favoured by homosexuals in gyms. bending over, stretching, rubbing. but at least when homosexuals finish, they have glistening, toned bodies that make them look good. you? you’re just going to end up with a slipped disk in your spine, while losing what's left of the 20 or so strands of hair you have left by the mili-seconds. and the more you clean, the more you’ll notice is dirty. if you’re not careful you’ll end up polishing the inside of the tyre valves and then not wanting to use your car if it’s raining.
and i see you armed to the teeth with your arsenal of weapons? are those the uber - secret - formula - developed - on - mars cleaning products that are available in supermarkets? “simply spray onto the glass,” it says on the tin, “then, after two minutes, wipe down with a clean cloth.” rubbish. you can never trust any instruction that begins with the word “simply”.
why are you washing the car in the first place? a car will not get smelly armpits or soggy groin. bathing it will not increase its life expectancy or decrease the chances of a breakdown. all it does really is demonstrate to others that you have a tiny mind and an empty life. i want you to think carefully about this. can you picture in your mind george clooney washing a car? quite.
look to our middle eastern counterparts like qatar, they have realised that it rots the mind (and thirsts the people) and that's why washing your car is forbidden and heralds death by stoning and a fine of QR 15,000.00, though the methods by which you'll pay the fine after getting stoned to death escapes me. nevertheless there's simply no place for such extravagance and useless nonsense.
oh, and here’s another thing. washing a car is the only time you ever get up close and personal with all of its panels. which means you will find a million depressing little dings and scratches that you would never have spotted had you left it caked in grime.
and in the ultimate hypocrisy, let me proclaim: get a life gentlemen. i'm tired of watching you wash your cars from my window =D
| 10,000 Blasphemous Cock | |
...from the director of the independence day and the day after tomorrow, came probably the shittiest movie that he probably directed so far, whoever he may be. i can't even be bothered to check.
that is the extent of the shitty-ness as far as the movie goes. i'm not trying to be cynical or overly harsh towards this film, but the amount of misdirection and deceit present in the trailers have seriously upset me. come to think of it, i had such high hopes for this film that even when people told me it was crap, i went ahead and saw it. it is therefore hard for me to remain objective on my perceptions of this film.
the poster, AND the trailer obviously showed the lead character having a go at the sabre-tooth tiger. that was the thing that attracted me in the first place. let's just say it turned out much differently, in an almost homosexual manner. some parts of the movie were so humorous, it got me laughing at a character's hair. other times it was so intriguing i had flashbacks about the commercials that were shown before the movie started.
and then there were those priceless moments where things that happened surpassed all logic and common sense. i had to constantly tell myself that "hey, wth right, it's 10000 BC, anything can happen". but surely, not dinosaurs and instant - resurrection - right - after - you - get - shot- in - the - chest - with - an - arrow? i mean even JC had to take a breather when he got crucified, before he got resurrected, no? so, wtf?
i can't even be screwed to say any more about it. the name is synonymous with horse manure to me from now on. now, the next movie that i'm dying to watch? IRON MAN. for starters it has about THE coolest sound track ever other than school of rock. the theme song for the movie? what else can it be, it's iron man of course! everytime i hear that satanic sabbath riff my blood boils! hope this movie is as good as its sound track goes.
cheers!
Monday, March 17
| confessions of a troubled mind: i like men with odd shaped balls... | |
i have to admit: the sight of men with odd shaped balls turns me on. and NO i'm not gay, neither do i get turned on in the sexual way you perverts.
i have never addressed this issue formally, but i think it's about time i do so. i am not exactly sure when my fascination with the sport started. i do have faint memories of playing it with a bunch of friends on rainy days on the ntu soccer pitch. because when it raind it usually meant we can't play football. so we naturally turned towards the natural alternative - barefooted one that is, with an oval shaped ball, where boys can fool around and roll in the mud and go home to a shelling by their respective moms.
and i also have fond memories of watching the 2003 world cup at asif's house. it was the first time for me watching it on tv. all i remember is bodies piling on top of each other and men running at one another in barbaric manners and trying to wrestle each other to their deaths (i thought). it looked infinitely more genuine than anything WWE or TNA has to offer, and they looked a lot more ferocious in their pure black jerseys. and that was also the first time that i heard the term "The All Blacks" and witnessed the Haka. Asif, being a kiwi, was immensely proud of the all blacks of course, and so we inevitably all became all blacks fans, albeit involuntarily. i'm not even sure if i knew of any other teams that existed at the time, probably only the wallabies, or england.
i think it was that moment. the score was 17 - 17 in extra time. everyone looked fatigued and lifeless. the match seemed to be going nowhere. we were all sitting on the couch at asif's house, on a sunny sunday afternoon, when we should be outside playing football. i watched as the ball was being passed out from another "pile" of people, into the hands of this blond guy. i've heard asif tell me this guy is the equivalent of david beckham in rugby. i thought he certainly had the looks. then the moment happened. he took it onto his right foot (i later learnt he was left footed) and executed the perfect drop kick. for a second the time stopped. the ball hit the ground, and set off a gargantuan wave of camera flashes in the stadium, then he took a swing and the ball traveled between the uprights in slow motion.
i wanted to be like johnny wilkinson. i wanted to BE johnny wilkonson. flyhalf, such an exotic word to me. when the first time i played the game in school, the coach told me to play stand-off. i remember feeling a little disappointed, because i wanted to play flyhalf. and only a little later i realised how foolish and unfamiliar i was with the jargons of the game. first five-eighth, stand-off, flyhalf: they are the exact same thing, differentiated only by name depending on your geographical location: my dream came true.
then i saw the videos of the 2nd test match on the lions tour of new zealand. a particular player caught my eye. he was 5 ft. 11, about my height, but weighs a whopping 91 kilos from the on screen stats. even though he was a sub, the moment he came on it became electrifying. he scored 33 points in that match - 2 tries, 5 penalties and 4 conversions - more than anyone has ever done against the lions in one match.
forget wilkinson. his name is dan carter. he eventually became the resident no.10 shirt in the all black jersey. he's the ultimate player, a player's player. i think it's these kind of players that kept my passion burning along with the spirit of the game. i love the brutality, i relish the discipline, i honour the brotherhood and i live for the team. and to think that all these boils down to an odd shaped rubber ball, all for that extra inch, that elusive line, that one shining moment.
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