Stepping aside for Reality

So, petrol prices go up again.

Earlier, on the 3rd of this month, I blogged, "When I listened to the news this morning to hear a minister say that the government does not plan to increase petrol prices, I already know that he cannot prevent it from happening."

The end is not in sight yet, and there's no comfort in being proven right.

On reading Minishorts’ article ‘I tried being a troll yesterday’, I acted on a sudden impulse. I asked Minishorts(a professional book reviewer in her real life) to review my writing professionally. It was a case of “ask first, think later”. And she agreed. I'm not backing out of this one.

Then I examined the bullshit that I have been writing all this while. Looking through them, I can sort of categorize them into two; inane X-rated stuff and serious sci-fi.

Serious sci-fi is more challenging to read because it takes some time to plough through the plot to see how the storyline challenge the known laws of physics. Since Minishorts is doing this on her own free time, I don’t think it is fair to expect her to go through a serious sci-fi on my account. So I will submit an inane piece instead. I do not know if there is such a thing as a professional review of inane writing, but I will leave such technicalities to Minishorts.

Next week, all mundane postings will be suspended in this blog. Instead, I will write a story and divide it into five parts. Each part will be posted on each day from Monday to Friday. This is going to be a serious professional review, so I have to be really focused. And I am mentally prepared for the reviewer to dissect it or rip it apart, warts and all.

The story is not yet completed and so I will have to write as quickly as I can. Yes, I want to write towards a set deadline. I want to feel the pressure. Goodness knows why!

The rough plot is somewhat like this:
A lone swordsman goes to one of the Emperor’s castles containing a treasure of gold. At the castle, he has to meet a challenge successfully to pass through the first gate. After this, he will come to a second gate and another challenge. All in all, he will have to pass through five gates in order to get his reward. Each gate is guarded by a skilled gatekeeper, carefully selected by the Emperor to keep people out. If the challenger is successful, he will have proven his abilities and the Emperor will allow him to take out an amount of gold equal to his weight and also make him a general in the army.

This piece will be original and inane. But I want Friday’s ending episode to have a slight twist and not as inane as my usual fare. For a change, mah. The story will be temporarily called “Viewtru’s Lantern Tale” until I have time to think of a more fitting title. Initially, I was planning to write something like this for the Mooncake festival. But now, everything has been pushed forward by one month.

So guys, remember to read the episode of the First Gate on Monday.

Few people realize that the wheel is pretty much useless without a hole in the middle to position in a stiff shaft.

I’m inclined to think that the greatest inventions were more the result of lucky freakish coincidences than deep focused thinking.

Let’s face it; human beings are not that smart.

“Commander Raiken lay on his bed. He was dying and he knew it. At 989 years of age, death was just a matter of time.”

I wrote those 3 sentences for my sci-fi story and then the mind got stuck in the celestial mud. Self doubt assailed me with tough admonishments like “You’ve got some nerve, writing dumb shit about being 989 years old, you young punk! When you know that you’re not likely to make it past your 100th birthday. Even with Gingko and Ginseng!”

Then time ran into a wall and stood still. Very still. I’m afraid time is dead.

I am bored. Very. I’ll try anything.

Anybody out there who wants me to go click on their Google Adsense? All you have to do is hint. The offer is valid for today, and only while stocks(of boredom) last.

Who says local old men are not fun? Take a look at this serious respectable pose. LOL!

Or go read the whole post and make some encouraging noises about the photography.

The past few months have see a rash of bad news hitting the world. Although I tried not to get depressed, it is difficult to remain unaffected. Nevertheless, here is guest blogger, Chin Tu Lan, to present a refreshing perspective on things.

Chin Tu Lan blogging about “Good Luck, bad luck”

A few weeks ago, hor, I won a free ticket to London. Then all my freeloader friends said, “Oh, good luck. Oh, good luck!”

Aiyaaah….this type of thing, good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

Anyway, I decided to go. My grandmother gave me 3000 pounds to spend for my trip. I think my grandmother loves me not because I am her only grandson, but because she is my only grandmother. And people say she’s very rich.

I reached London and went to the hotel and found out that the stupid hotel clerk gave my room away to someone else. So, they got no room for me. Kanineh, like that also got.

Then all the other guests said, “Oh, bad luck. Oh, bad luck!”

Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

The hotel manager then passed by and felt sorry that they gave my room to someone else. But they had a junior suite empty. He offered to upgrade me so that I can take the junior suite while paying normal room price. Of course I take lah. This type of thing no need to think one mah.

And after that, all the other kaypoh guests said “Oh, good luck. Oh, good luck!”

Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

That night at the bar, I met a sexy Mat Salleh woman with si beh tua neh neh. I bought her many drinks thinking that she will go to my room to syiok syiok with me later. But she left and went upstairs with some fat businessman instead. Fucker, simply potong jalan only.

The waiter felt sorry for me and said, “Oh, bad luck. Oh, bad luck!”

Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

I slept alone that night. Fruss only. The next morning I went downstairs and saw the fat businessman kao peh kao bu because the si beh tua neh neh woman stole all his money while he was asleep.

The hotel security guards heard that I tried to pick up the same con woman but failed. So they said to me, “Oh, good luck. Oh, good luck!”

Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

I was still feeling sexually frustrated, so I wanted to catch a bus to look for a red light district to get some action. I walked round the corner and saw Bus No 30 at the bus stop. So I ran to catch it. But it started moving off already. I shouted to the driver to wait. But stoopid idiot sped off. Chow chee bai. Wait a little bit can die one meh?

One man walking his dog near the bus stop laughed at me and said “Oh, bad luck. Oh, bad luck!”

Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

Next thing I know, I heard explosions everywhere. So I caught the next flight home. At the airport, I was met by the press. The famous 5Star investigative reporter, Dick Tomastoski was there to interview me. He was there with one hot female 5Star columnist.

When he heard that I missed Bus No. 30, he said, “Oh, good luck. Oh, good luck!”

Before I can say anything, the hot female 5Star columnist said, “Good luck, bad luck, who can say one.”

I dunno why she didn’t like me. But she got damn nice legs. Big neh neh also.

My grandmother was happy to see me. She had been reading the newspapers every day and she said that the news is blardy depressing. Bombing lah, terrorism lah, stupid politicians making stupid decisions lah. She said that maybe the world is going through a patch of bad luck.

But actually hor, good luck, bad luck, who can say one.

One of my colleagues emailed me some pictures of the new Airbus A380.

Airbus claims that this new plane will use less fuel and will fly quieter, cheaper and more environmentally friendly than the 747.

Oh, really arh?

To be honest, the new A380 casts a really neat outline when viewed from behind. I’ll grant it that. The extra-long wingspan gives it the back profile of a giant bird.

Since I had nothing to do during my lunch hour, I could not resist doing this little visual parody of its claim.



Don’t get me wrong. I’m not taking the side of either Boeing or Airbus.
I’m all for being environmentally friendly.

Hot Babe came back from an outstation trip. She must have been busy, because she told me that she spent about a thousand ringgit shopping.

I said that nobody could buy that much in so short a time.

She then proceeded to instruct me in this well-known local saying:
“Have money, will spend.”

I then reminded her of this equally great foreign saying:
“A fool and his money are soon parted.”

She looked at me haughtily and said that she liked the local saying better. And besides, it’s her money.

I couldn’t argue with that. I knew that she had a high level of savings. And also, she bought me a kick ass power tie. A very nice burgundy one.

I needed to find an entry to ping PPS because last week, I said that I would ping PPS 4 times this week. But I have nothing to blog about.

Ever had one of those days when you wanted to say nothing but wanted to say something?

So, I’ll just post a link on my take on the Malaysian Idol 2 Wildcard show which I wrote in this other blog. And yeah, this makes it my 4th ping this week. Yes!

Have you ever had days when you thought, that somehow, you've been a failure?

Well stop it, coz we're not having that kind of shit anymore.

From now on, you’re a fucking DEFERRED SUCCESS.

Disclaimer:
The following play is purely fictitious and the characters bear no resemblance to any public figure alive or dead, or even half-dead. Any resemblance found is purely coincidental.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +


Act III Scene 1

[ A slightly fattish woman, Lady Tempest, is seated in an inn lobby, drinking ten cups of coffee. ]

Tempest: A dastardly plot is at hand. That seeketh my overthrow. Like hungered wolves before the innocent flock, they gather. And call unto question the issuance of permits that unjustly spotted my unstain’d reputation. Out, damned spot! Out, I say! O woe! O woe!

[ Enter a sprightly old man, Lim Ah Pek. ]

Lim: O….tis the fair Lady Tempest! What ails thee, milady?

Tempest: Woe indeed, my lord. The affairs of the state, they trouble me exceedingly. Knoweth thou my dealings hath been as transparent as yonder glass! Yet many have called me to a reckoning over a letter. The bow is bent and drawn, and I am the target they seek.

Lim: Perchance thou thinketh too much?

Tempest: Nay, most Noble Lim. Indeed hath I been most wrongfully accused, that I, being rude and wretched, wouldst not pay honourable respect due a retired old man.

Lim: Ah…..wondered I that myself!

Tempest: I assure thee, I love him more than words can wield the matter.

Lim: Truly?

Tempest: A love beyond what can be valued, rich or rare.

Lim: That much?

Tempest: A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable.

Lim: Enough! Say no more, I implore! Lest weepeth I alongside thee!

Tempest: O Doctor, Doctor! Wherefore art thou, my Doctor?

Lim: * puketh *

Tempest: Fie! Most Noble Lim, fie!

Lim: Hark! I hear a horse!

Tempest: Surely thou art mistaken.

Lim: Sweet madam. Put thee thy faith in my hearing of excellence!

[ Enter a man with funny hair. ]

Tempest: See? ‘Tis no horse, but Pseudo-lord Valiant Hair.

Hair: O woe! O woe!

Lim: Et tu, Valiant Hair?

Hair: The bridges! They stayeth not in the air as desired. Yet fail’d me they did, again and again. O woe!

Tempest: What? Another one? How so, milord?

Hair: Bridges are mysterious as the night is dark, milady.
In days of yore, bridges failed when ancient and weary they grow, with the passage of the years. But yet a year ago, one failed with untimely ease, within 2 months. Damnation! The peasants grow discontented day by day. Pray, tell me. What manner of power is this that causeth a bridge to fall?

Lim: Gravity!

Hair: Gravity? Art thou sure?

Lim: Absolutely!

Hair: And scarce a fortnight ago, another bridge, half made up, collapseth unfinish'd. And sent before its time, into the road below!

Tempest: Egad! It was down before it was up?

Hair: Indeed! I am undone, I fear!

Tempest: Poor soul! Your eyes are red as fire with weeping.
There's not a nobler man in town than Valiant Hair.

Lim: * Again puketh *

Hair: Does not a soul believeth me when say I my sorrow dwelleth deep, having no bottom?

Lim: Hark! I hear a horse!

[ Enter a man in a bowtie, who is not a hotel waiter. Mumbling to himself, he ignores the efforts of the guests trying to order coffee from him. ]

Bowtie: O woe! O woe! The gentry pay me no heed. My resolutions full of sound and fury, they chose to ignore. I begin to be aweary of the affairs of state and wish the sordid laughter behind my back wouldst disappear. O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, and sane men have lost their reason. O woe!

Lim: Zounds! ‘Tis no horse but the hotel waiter.

Hair: Noble Lim, methinks thou shouldst fix thy hearing.

Bowtie: O woe! O woe!

Lim: Waiter! Kopi tiga! Kasi kurang manis sikit!

[ The man in bowtie glares at them and leaves. ]

Hair: The insolence of the knave!

Tempest: What the fa…..?

Lim: Hold thy tongue within, milady! Lest thou giveth new cause to the gentry to compel thee another letter writ to explain thy language!

Tempest: Under such heavy burden do I sink. And heavier it grows increasingly with the days and weeks.

Hair: Heavier increasingly? Yes! Knoweth I surely why the bridges falleth!

Lim: Pray tell!

Hair: If thou consider rightly of the matter, there can be but one strong reason!

Lim: What?

Hair:That gravity groweth stronger by the day!

Tempest and Lim: Nooooooooooooooo!!!!!

Hair: Yes!!!!!

Tempest: Then to our abodes, let us return, ere the roads collapseth. Goodnight, my good lords.

Hair and Lim: Goodnight Fair Tempest, the fairest of the fair, the most precious jewel.

Tempest: Oh my! Fare thee well my lords!

Hair and Lim: Fare thee well, sweet Tempest, the glorious giver of permits!

Tempest: Shut the farketh up!



* Curtain falls *

This blogoshere is full of shit.

Well I’m amazed really. I had thought that your idea of ethics would be the same as mine.

Let’s look at what happened in that shitty bar again. The stranger disappeared from the barstool without paying. Now apply a little logic here, will ya? Fish needs water to breathe. If the stranger felt a transformation coming, wouldn’t he rush to the toilet first and get into a pail of water before he actually changed? The fact that he was still alive implied that he had survived every transformation previously by his ability to get to the water first. Thus it would not be logical to assume that he was going to be sitting on that bar stool doing nothing, and waiting to die painfully from asphyxiation.

Anyway, that is of no importance to the ethical question.

But what about the fish found on the stool? Well, maybe the stranger did not have enough money for his drinks and he paid by using a fish instead. And because he was too embarrassed to hand it over the counter, he could have left it on the stool. You know….the same way that some people would leave money on the table for drinks and walk off.

But again, that is also of no importance to the ethical question.

From the point of ethics, the correct course of action is to eat the fish.

Why?

BECAUSE IT HAS ALREADY BEEN COOKED AND IT IS NOT ETHICAL TO WASTE FOOD!

There are people starving in Africa, okay?

So what I had suspected all along was true; you social misfits did not passed your Moral Studies. This is just plain funny. Muahahahahahah!!!!!

Hey, bay-behs. Got a hypothetical question of ethics for you social misfits icons of morality. Read on:

A man walked into his regular pub and sat down at the bar. Being hungry, he ordered a plate of fish and chips. The bartender said that they were out of fish, but he could serve the chips. Another customer, with a strange foreign accent, was sitting on the next barstool.

The stranger said in a gruff voice, “I wish you would not order fish,”

“Why?”

“Coz I’m a werefish.”

“What the fuck is a werefish?”

“It’s like a werewolf, except that I turn into a fish when the moon is full.”

“Oh yeah? You’re fullashit! “

“Do me a favour. Please go outside and check if the moon is full.”

Since the man was still waiting for his food, he good-naturedly went outside and looked at the moon. After looking at it for a while, he decided that it definitely can be considered a full moon. So he went back into the pub. But the stranger had disappeared.

“Where did the stranger go?” he asked.

The bartender replied, “I dunno. He left without paying for his drinks. The cheapskate!”

The fish and chips came. While eating his food, the man asked the bartender, “Hey, didn’t you say you were out of fish?”

The bartender replied, “Yes we were. But just now while you were outside, the waitress found a fish on the stool next to yours. We filleted and fried it for you.”

Ethical question: Would you continue eating?

Ooooooooh…..I’m feeling whooooozy. Yesterday’s eight posts took a lot out of me. They were all on different topics, so nobody can accuse me of taking shortcuts.

One thing is certain; a bog marathon is not for me. I’m not the sort of person who can write quantity. I like to focus on one shit at a time without getting fucking distracted. Know what I mean? Focus is my middle name. I think.

There’s plenty of happenings the past two weeks. Last week, we had a flyover collapsing even before it was completed. Historically, a flyover collapses only after it has been built. I sense a new trend here.

Oh, the AP(approved permits) issue just blew out into the open. We still do not know what the letter to the Tun was all about, but at least we know who the privileged recipients are. It was a surprise to read the Star and find out that each AP can fetch between 20k to 30k.

Apart from that, there has not been much happening.

Say, hasn’t it been a long time since I wrote a Shakespearean play? My last Shakespearean play took one week to write, but I was satisfied with the results. If anybody thinks that it was easy to write, think again. It was bloody difficult! Try writing just one page and then talk to me again if you still think it was easy.

From now on, my Shakespearean plays will not be pinged at PPS. I can’t take the chance of somebody nominating it for the Ping of the Year Award next year. That will attract too much attention. You know how paranoid I can be about unwanted attention. The last Ping of the Year Award kept me on tenterhooks, as I was worried that one of my plays might get nominated. The first play wasn’t that great, but the second one was.…..well…..let’s just say that a lot of people would not be able to put out that stuff in one week. Now that was very modestly put. Humble, even! But let’s not get distracted here. Today's post is about happenings.

While scanning the papers this morning, I read that some mob has been going round throwing Molotov cocktails and burning a four-wheel drive vehicle somewhere in Terengganu. I pray that this kurang ajar mob gets punished. Severely. What is the point of having laws in the country if people can go around setting fires everywhere? We are a law-abiding country, and let nobody forget that.

That’s it! I have had enough! This is my 8th post for today and there is only so much strain my brains can take. So I’m just gonna end today’s half-blogathon with this poem:

I tried a half-blogathon,
A task I thought was easy.
But when I reached my seventh post,
The effort made me dizzy.

I squeezed out every inane thought,
Until my mind stopped cranking.
But still I’m glad I didn't waste time,
In dumb pastimes like wanking.



Goodnight, everybody.

Oh heck, this half-blogathon thingy is getting on my nerves. I am already running out of things to blog about. I mean really interesting stuff.

Desperate situations call for desperate measures.

I am going to blog about making soup. You heard right……I’m gonna give you a cooking tip.

What do you do if you accidentally put too much salt into the soup?

The remedy is to throw in some POTATOES and the saltiness will not be so pronounced. I kid you not.

What do you do if you put in too much sugar in the soup?

The remedy is to put in SWEET POTATOES and tell everybody that that is how it’s supposed to taste, and they are supposed to get high on it.

That was my seventh post. I hope you are exhausted already, because I definitely am.

Just got back from work and dinner. Here is my 6th post for the day. And I’m still not tired. If you are exhausted already, please let me know. Then I shall be damn merciful and stop posting.

Reading this entry by Brand New Malaysian reminded me of a draft letter that Yoda showed me the other day.

I don’t know how he got hold of it, but it read:

“My dear M,

My colleagues are compelling me to write a letter to you. Frankly, I don’t think it is anybody’s business how permits are given out. Especially retired people. But since I have agreed to write you a letter, here it is. Everybody thinks that I am using this letter to explain the permit issue. They are wrong. This letter is about how to make nasi lemak. First you take a coconut……..”

I told Yoda never to read other people’s private mail ever again.

Unless with my expressed permission. Which is usually given freely.

Okay, so I was supposed to be blogging the whole morning. But I got distracted and went into some camera site. My old Konica gave out so I’m looking at a suitable replacement. I’m going to buy an ultracompact camera that I can slide into my jeans pocket. Not the best way to carry a camera, I know.

I’m looking at the Casio S-500, the one with 3x optical zoom and anti-shake. Also looking at Panasonic FX7 or 8. Will go scouting around after work.

How often have you heard it being said that bad pictures are not the fault of the camera but that of the photographer. Well, forget that shit. It only absolves the camera manufacturers from blame.

“Your pictures turned out lousy, issit? It’s your fault!”

Oh yeah? Well, I don’t believe that shit anymore. Just sell me your best camera at a cheap cheap price okay?

Wow! This is my 5th posting today and I am still not tired. I bet you are exhausted already. But I’ve got to go to work now. Bye!

Took a break from blogging just now.

I went to the garden and played with my dog. Affectionate pet bonding does wonders for the mind. It was sitting there quietly like a statue waiting for pigeons, allowing me to stroke and pat him. Then suddenly, it got up like it remembered something it had to do, like maybe pay the bills or something similarly urgent. Then it went and fetched an old bone and came to me. It dropped the bone nearby and gripped my hand gently with its mouth.

Immediately I knew what it wanted: a whole new bone.

What is it with everybody today? Even my dog is giving me hints.

Sheeeeeesh…..

This is your lucky day. I’m gonna educate you bunch of semi-literates.

For free!

‘Coz I’m feeling good and generous.

The lesson for today is this ancient Chinese saying:

"Man standing there waiting for duck to fly into mouth, has to wait long long time."

What does that mean?

Yo, listen up. It means that you have to open your mouth bigger to improve your chances!!!!!!

Sheeeeeesh......

So Sashi commented, “I protest! As a sign of my protest, I shall not ping PPS at all unless I write a blog entry...”

Sashi is rarely inane, so I sense a subtle message here.

Is that a reminder to me that I don’t have sufficient blog entries? That I can’t flood ping PPS unless I have sufficient blog entries?

Very good point.

So Sashi is calling my bluff, izzit? Wa lau eh. Now, I just can’t allow other bloggers to live with the erroneous impression that my life is so unhappening that I don’t have sufficient material to put out more than half a dozen postings a day, can I?

Coincidentally, I’m free this morning and will not be going in to work until the afternoon. Life is good, okay? This is my second post for today, and I’m not even tired yet! In fact, I'll exhaust you pussies out first. I eat pussies for breakfast. That's just a metaphor and has nothing to do with oral sex. But you get my drift.

So, its like so on, man. I’m gonna blog non-stop this morning. Call it a half-marathon. Yeah!!!!!

I was walking with Hot Babe in 1Utama and she had to go to the ATM machines near the food court. She then suggested that I had a haircut since my hair was getting long. So I popped into Pro Cutz(located next to the ATM machines)and had my locks trimmed. I liked the end results.

There were two girls working inside. One was pretty. Ordinary pretty.

The other chick was also pretty. But starlet pretty. She looked like a starlet in one of the Hongkong serials. And she attended to me, taking 15 minutes to cut my hair instead of the usual 10. But of course, she saw that I was with Hot Babe, so she did not try to flirt with me. But I could tell that she can be flirty. When she vacuumed my head for hair clippings with the overhead vacuum cleaner, I did not even worry that the vacuum would suck my brains out.

So any of you single guys who want to have a pretty starlet look-alike to touch your head, you know where to go. And its only RM12. Geez, that outfit ought to give me a commission for blogging this.

I am surprised that Aizuddin is not going to impose throttling measures to prevent flood pinging, but instead, he considered the matter closed.

Haiyah......since I know got no action taken one, from now on, I'm gonna flood ping PPS repeatedly, to as much as a masive FOUR pings a week.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

There is no continuation of my science fiction story today. The next installment, THREE, will be out next month. The germ of a plot came to me this morning as I was washing my face. It is a good plot even by the standards of science fiction writers.

Not say I say one, but even the great Asimov himself would have said that what I am going to write is plausible! I will have to borrow his three laws of robotics to continue with the storyline. Also I will have to finish reading up on some of our legendary myths. So much work just for two postings. If everything goes right, the result should have a serious ‘Star Trek’ feel to it. Wish me luck.

Oh, my inane mood is starting to reassert itself again. I was dancing in front of the TV while it was drizzling outside, much to the amusement of my dog, staring at me from outside. For some reason, I was too hyped up to sit down. Can’t remember what was on TV though, but it was not a music programme.

Here’s something light. Occasionally, I come across a comic strip that is so hilarious that it is pure genius. Over the past year that I have been reading funnies online, surely this one is the best of all.



I bet you never knew one could have so much fun with a brush and some yellow paint!

Although I downloaded it from somebody’s blog sometime last year, I am pretty sure that it originally came from the wulffmorgenthaler site.

Their humour may be sick most of the time. And they call themselves ‘100% pure Assholes’. But occasionally they do come up with some gems.

You gotta admit it – those guys are brilliant!

The Universe’s mentality is Complementality.

Attu33 walked by the seashore. The microorganisms from Gaia’s body had spread to the ocean, feeding on minerals in the sea and growing in quantity.

The tiny organisms had spread to all the oceans and land masses, adapting marvellously to different climatic conditions on the planet. To help the spread along, Attu33 had taken samples of micro organism laden seawater near the gravesite and released them in different locations of the planet. Now that the planet was filled with life, it was just a matter of time before new species of algae and bacteria develop and evolve into plants and animals. That could take hundreds of millions of years. By that time Attu33 would be dead.

In theory, a robot was immortal. In practice, there had to be a constant supply of spare parts for replacement purposes when old parts get worn out. Nothing lasted forever.

The little robot was intelligent enough to know that if it wished to extend the lifespan of its parts, it had to leave the planet’s oxygen-rich atmosphere. The only viable option was to live on the moon where the absence of water and oxygen would allow the robot’s parts to exist without rust and oxidation.

Attu33 formulated a plan. It would build a base on the moon and stay there with the spaceJet. While at the moonbase, it would power itself down into ‘standstill’ mode to conserve movement and thus save on wear and tear on the robotic joints. By having the base on the bright side of the moon, solar power would be available to charge up the hyperzenon storage batteries. Every 100 million years, the robot would power up and fly down to earth to check on Gaia.

- - - - - - - - - -

While watching a herd of triceratops feeding in the area, Attu33 cybernetically registered the fast pace of evolution for the past 100 million years. There had been a big change in the type of vegetation species covering the land. During the previous trips to check on Gaia, evolutionary progress had been slow. Now suddenly, there was an explosion of species on land. This must be what is known as the Pre-Gerassic Period on Attu33’s previously existing home planet of Durente-6.

The robot thought of its home planet without emotion. That was a long time ago in a place faraway. Robots simply do not get sentimental. Shifting its focus to the present, the little robot started taking temperature readings

Artu33 was puzzled. The heat from the sun had increased by 20 % since the spaceJet first landed on the planet eons ago, yet the temperature has been more or less constant. The planet showed no signs of heating up. Some unknown factor had been at work, controlling the climate.

Suddenly, it heard, “Thank you.”

The robot turned around, scanning the surrounding vegetation.

Again the words, “Thank you.”

It was not a voice. But a message that came from within its circuits. The message conveyed gratitude.

“Who are you?” the robot called out.

Silence.

Attu33 waited. But there were no more messages.

It walked towards the vegetation and examined a fern it had never seen before.

And then the robot sensed something else: joy!

Attu33 had the ability to sense emotions. A long time ago, Sensei Rincen had fitted it with an experimental chip to sense emotional fields. Looking around, the robot could not see anybody nearby. Who or what was putting out this emotional flux?

Getting into the spaceJet, it flew to a different part of the planet. While in the air, Attu33 looked down at the rivers lazily meandering their ways to the oceans. The weathering of rocks had caused salt and minerals to be washed down to the rivers which carried them to the oceans. Yet the salt concentration of sea water remained at a constant 3.4 % for the past few hundred million years. Something was clearly regulating the salinity of the oceans .

It was a bright and sunny day, and the sunlight glistened off the water below in myriads of sparkling patterns. By Durentian standards, it would be what can be called "a pretty sight".

At that moment, the robot sensed the emotion of gratitude. In the air.

Setting the spaceJet down on the ground, the robot walked out and shouted,
“I know who you are!”

The answering emotion came: happiness!

The robot shouted, “You are Lady Gaia!”

The planet had communicated its emotions to the robot. But maybe, this could not be termed as 'communications'. The robot could not hear complex thoughts, but could only ‘hear’ raw emotions from Gaia. It was an interaction nonetheless.

The robot tried to figure out how all this was possible. Or even made sense. It knew that it was not delusional. Robots simply did not get delusional. There had to be some form of scientific explanation.

Scanning through its internal knowledge database, Attu33 was able to come up with a little known theoretical concept that might be relevant; Wurevit’s Complement Role Induction Postulate.

Eons ago, Wurevit, a behavioural scientist on Durente-5, was known for making quirky announcements. The press loved to quote his most famous statement:

“The Universe’s mentality is Complementality!”

In his unproven Complement Role Induction Postulate, Wurevit stated that:

“When the complementary part of an entity is transferred to a new entity, in the total absence of external modifying influences, the new entity takes on the role of the old entity.”

Complementary role induction can be demonstrated by bringing the north pole of a magnet to a piece of iron bar. The north pole of the magnet would induce a complementary south pole on the piece of iron.

Applying the Postulate, if a group of slum dwellers is transferred to a block of spanking new apartments, the new place will quickly turn into a slum. The apartments complement the behaviour of the slum dwellers by assuming the role of a slum, induced by the dwellers. However, this was true only in the total absence of external modifying influences.

But can the Postulate apply to a planet?

Attu33 tried to guess what had happened. The micro organisms of Gaia’s body were a complementary part of Gaia. When they were transferred to the planet, the new entity, they induced the role of Gaia onto the planet. This was done in the total absence of other lifeforms, thus fulfilling the condition of ‘total absence of external modifying influences’. And because the micro organisms were conscious creatures, the complementary Gaia role of the planet developed a consciousness as well.

Durentians had always wondered if it was possible for a planet to develop a consciousness. That would make the planet a sentient being. The concept goes against all logical reasoning.

The little robot was not concerned if the Postulate could be logically applied in this case. It could sense the planetary emotions. Anything else did not matter.

Lady Gaia lives!

The oration of Attu33, the robot.

“Father, I wish to go to the planet Durente-11”

“Why”

“I want to see cousin Grenadine before the sun blows up.”

“Don’t stay too long, Gaia. And take Attu33 with you.”

“Yes, father.”

Sensei Rincen looked at his daughter Gaia. She was becoming a young beautiful lady day by day. But there was no future for her. The solar system was dying. The red sun could turn supernova and explode any moment now. Nobody knows when exactly, and nobody could escape their fate. The exploding sun will explode with a burst that sends its outer layers flying off into space. And for that event, the sun will shine as brightly as 600 million suns for a few weeks, and frying the planets in the process.

The ambient gamma radiation on Gaia’s home planet, Durente-6, had risen dramatically the past few years. The nearest planet system that could escape the supernova was thousands of light years away. It is doubtful of any of their spaceships could make the journey. Besides, no organic lifeform could survive that long. On top of that, the high intensity of gamma ray radiation from the dying sun made traveling in space for more than a few months highly dangerous to organic life. Even with spacecraft lined with lead material. There was no escape. It was the end of their race.

“Lady Gaia, do you wish me to prepare your spaceJet?”

Attu33 was the family robot. It has been in the family for 600 years, getting an upgrade in parts every 100 years or so. In the last upgrade, Sensei Rincen, being an eminent psychfield researcher, had fitted an experimental chip in the robot that allowed it to sense emotional fields. It had worked very well thus far.

“Thank you, Attu33. You will accompany me on this trip.”

“Yes, Lady Gaia.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Attu33 glanced at the lead-lined hibernation chamber in the spaceJet. Inside was Lady Gaia, her body in deep chill so as to conserve oxygen and energy during the journey. They had been traveling for 2 months from Durente-6 towards the planet Durente-11 where her cousin lived. Durente-11 was the last planet on the outer reaches of their solar system. Beyond that would be Deep Space, where nobody has gone. Exploratory craft manned by robots had been sent to investigate Deep Space, but none had ever returned.

A sudden brilliance in space caught the robot’s attention. That could only mean one thing. The event that everyone talked about has arrived! The sun has just turned into a supernova!

Attu33 was trying to decide, in the cold calculating way that robots do. Should it try to dock at Durente-11 and let Gaia die together with the rest of her race in the solar blast? Or should it try to outrun the supernova into Deep Space?

Making a quick decision, the robot steered the spaceJet into Deep Space. It’s internal program would not allow it to take Lady Gaia to certain death. Deep Space was an unknown. And certainly preferable to certain death.

- - - - - - - - - -

Three months later, Attu33 could no more detect signals from Durente-11. One by one, the planets had stopped giving out signals. With Durente-11 gone, all the planets in the solar system have been destroyed. The blast had not caught up with the spaceJet, but it will. By calculating the rate by which the planets had stopped giving out signals, Attu33 could work out the time when the spaceJet will be hit. The blast wave was traveling fast. In another five months, vast clouds of hot rocks and metals moving at high speed will hit the spaceJet.

In space, there was nowhere to hide.

- - - - - - - - - -

The blast wave was now near, almost reaching the spaceJet. Attu33 took one last look at Lady Gaia still alive in cold slumber in the hibernation chamber. Strapping itself down, and putting all remaining shields up on the spacecraft, the robot braced for the impact.

- - - - - - - - - -

A random piece of space debris banged into the side of the spaceJet and jolted it. The jolt caused Attu33’s system to reboot. The robot powered up its visual sensors. It did not know how long it had been out cold. A quick check on its internal time clock told the robot that it had been in the incognitive mode, which was equivalent to the unconscious state in organic life, for the past five years.

It looked around the spaceJet. The vehicle was damaged but flyable. Lady Gaia had long since died inside the hibernation chamber. Her body was decomposing. But very, very slowly. The micro organisms inside her must still be alive and feeding on her dead body. Somehow, these tiny lifeforms and bacteria had survived the blast.

Attu33 made the only decision it could make. The people of Gaia’s race bury their dead. It decided to give Gaia a proper burial on a suitable planet. One that would have only one sun, like Durente-6.

Most planetary systems in the universe have two suns. To look for a star system with only one sun in it is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Attu33 did not attempt to fly the spaceJet but merely allow it to hurtle at high speed through space on its own momentum. The robot lowered the temperature of the hibernation chamber until it was cold enough to render the micro organisms inactive. Then it waited. It did not know how long it would have to wait before a suitable planet presented itself. But it waited.

- - - - - - - - - -

Five million years have passed. The spaceJet was still hurtling through space. The robot knew that it could not hope to keep this thing flying forever. They were passing a small solar system. This one had only one sun. The third planet from the sun appeared to have potential. A small planet with one moon. With an atmosphere and water. Lots of water.

The spaceJet landed on a beach by a sea. Onboard sensors revealed that there was no life on the planet. Just mountains, rivers and seas. No vegetation, no animals, not even bacteria.

By adjusting the temperature controls, Attu33 slowly thawed out the body of Lady Gaia. She was still beautiful, with a peaceful expression on her face.

The robot dug a grave on the beach. Then carefully, it carried the body of Lady Gaia and placed it inside the grave. The body was still cold, but warm enough to coax the micro organisms out of inactivity.

Back at Durente-6, Attu33 had often heard Sensei Rincen giving speeches at funerals. It was part of the burial ceremony. Attu33 had never made a funeral speech before. But someone had to say a few words to the dearly departed as a sendoff.


Pausing for a moment, the little robot said:

“Lady Gaia. Death is but a new beginning. This planet was barren and devoid of life, but now it has you.

If a robot can feel honour, rather than know duty, then surely, it was my greatest honour to have served you. Though you may have passed on, your body still contained micro organisms, the only organic life ever to be witnessed in this part of the universe. In your living, they were a part of you. In your passing, they are still here with you.

If a robot can feel hope, rather than know a computed positive expectation of probabilities, then I will surely hope that the microscopic lifeforms you have carried within your body will one day evolve into higher lifeforms. Lifeforms that reflect the beauty and vibrancy that you had always shown. And because the only life that is here sprang from your body, henceforth, this planet shall be known as “Gaia”.

If a robot can feel love, rather than know mechanistic devotion, I will surely love you to the end of my days. As long as there is life in my energy cells, as long as my systems still function, I will be here to protect you.”

So saying, Attu33 covered the grave with sand. In the cool moist ground, the micro organisms multiplied rapidly.

On that day, Life on Earth began.

I am tired. The events of the past few years have been mindless. It's been one calamity after another. Wars, earthquakes, terrorism, tsunamis, SARS and HIV. I think we are being managed. On a macro scale. Not by the Americans. They don’t have that kind of power or resources. But by the alien robots. Together with their human accomplices. I reckon there can't be more than a few hundred people around the world who are in contact with the aliens. These are the chosen ones. Carrying out the aliens bidding. In return for power and riches.

I feel like I’m in a giant ant farm. And we humans are the ants. Living out our ant-like lives. Unable to escape from this planet.

When I was a kid, Harry and I would play in an empty plot of land near my house. We used to go fishing for ants. By using a thin grass stalk. It was easy. Just poke a grass stalk into an ant hole and one of the stupid creatures will grab the other end, thus allowing us to pull it out. It’s like fishing, but without hook and bait. Ants were kind of stupid in those days.

Occasionally we got tired of all the fishing. Then we would pee on the ants. We didn’t mean any harm. Just wanted to get their little heads wet, that's all. Harry and I would stand on each side of an ant trail and it would be like, “One, two, three, go!” The best results was achieved when both of us could synchronised our urine streams such that whichever direction the dumb ants ran, they would get a thoroughly good wetting.

The joint military operation wasn’t always perfect. Most of the time, one of us would pee first, while the other would still be waiting for the liquid ammunition to come out. But when we got our act together, it was mayhem and madness in the little insect world below. Yippee-khai-yeh!

It was funny to see the little creatures trying to escape. Occasionally, there would be this little black ant that thought that it could outrun me. Probably some shitty fuck winner in the ant Olympics 100m sprint events. But I hopped alongside it, and at the same time, sprayed its head with urine. It was quite tricky, trying to hop and urinate at the same time. The urine would come out on spurts instead of a steady stream, and frequently missed the little ant. But what the heck, I had lots of pee.
"Get your bath, you little fucker!"

Life was good. I missed my childhood.

I never knew how the ants felt. But now I do. Sort of. Like I said, we are ants in a giant ant farm. The human populace is being managed with wars, tsunamis and whatnots. Oh shit! So this is how it feels like when the aliens pissed on us.

Time to open up an umbrella.

It is difficult to know what caused the NKVE flyover section to collapse by just looking at the pictures in the papers. But I want to know the answer to three questions:

1) Were the steel cables strong enough?
All steel cables are not created equal. Although this seems highly unlikely to be the problem, if it were up to me, I will send the steel cables for tensile testing. Both used and unused ones.

2) Were the concrete girders casted to specifications?
Concrete products can fail and they often do spectacularly. From the angle the pictures were taken, the girders appeared intact even after falling down to the highway below. They appear okay. For my peace of mind, I would prefer someone to go to the factory where the concrete girder was casted to take a look at the process.

3) Was this the most suitable method of assembly?
In the normal course of operation, the bottom of the girder would be in tension and the top in compression. In the method of assembly, as shown in the NST, the girders were cantilevered out. This will cause the bottom to be in compression and the top to be in tension. Which is practically an opposite condition to that experienced during traffic load bearing operation. If I were the investigating body, I would look through this angle thoroughly.

It must have been pretty unnerving for the poor motorists in the highway below to see concrete slabs raining down from above. Good thing nobody was killed. That's a relief.

Occasionally, I would check my sitemeter to see which one of my articles is making the email rounds. For some strange reason, many of my articles are wildly popular. And people like to email them around the country. So, lately, I have started putting in a certain cryptic phrase inside my articles such that whoever reads it and do not understand what it means, will google for it. And Google usually list my blog on the first page of this particular search results. When the search engines start to send traffic to this blog, I know that this article is currently getting emailed around.

This may be an indirect way of checking, but hey, it’s free! I need to have this kind of feedback so that I would know if my writing has improved or not. I couldn’t care less if people plagiarized me. I am already one of the most plagiarised blogger in this country. But what I really care about is my writing progress. So much so that I am thinking of adding an "Email this article" feature in this blog. But I think it may be wiser to wait until the quality of my postings really improve by a quantum leap before taking such a step. If you are reading this and feel the urge to puke, don't reach for the bucket just yet. There is more. Heheheh!

Sitemeter tells me that I am also attracting a number of fetish nuts lately. Most of my visitors are regulars, but some land up here because they did a Google search for “rotiboy recipe” and “Malaysian gigolo”. That was the trend last year. Now it appears that weird people with strange ideas on their minds are also giving this blog a visit for lord-knows-what.

Recent Google search:

“what kind of horse farts the most”
Now what kind of person asks that kind of question? I’m sorry I wasn’t of any help. But thanks for visiting.

There’re some more:

6th July : Yahoo search - ‘how increase my ejaculation volume to mind blowing loads’.
I was No 9 on Yahoo results last week. But why would anyone need to ejaculate to mind blowing loads? All it takes is only one sperm cell to do the job. ONLY ONE!

6 july : Google search for "free cheebai".
I was No. 3. Don’t understand why. Remember the famous proverb?
“There is no ‘free cheebai’ and there ain’t.”
Proverb applies to ‘free lunch’ as well.

6 july : Google search for "tua neh neh"
I was no 2. After reading that, I checked the mirror. 20000000 times.

8 July: Yahoo search "flying monkey ate my homework"
Yours truly was No 1. No shit! I’m gonna cook that monkey if it is still around.

Now you may puke. Welcome to Monday!

This is the most serious posting I can make this year. But when reality asserts itself, we have to make way.

Something important is upon us. Something that will change our way of life. Something that I wish I can flush away, but I can’t.

The London blasts may have occupied our attention. About 50 people died. That is tragic certainly, but it is small compared to another situation looming larger.

In 1956, geologist M. King Hubbert observed that in any large region, unrestrained extraction of a finite resource rises along a bellshaped curve that peaks when about half the resource is gone. He predicted that U.S. oil production would peak in around 1970. He was right. It did peak at 1970.

Those of you who have studied statistics would know a thing or two about the bellshaped curve. It applies not just to U.S. oil production, but also to GLOBAL oil production.

There has been NO major oil find on this planet for the last one generation. Despite new methods of exploration utilizing satellite imaging newfangled techniques. Sure, we found a new itsy bitsy field here and there, but those are ikan bilis fields. They are like zilch. Which means that the peak of Hubert’s bell curve will hit sooner than later. After that, some countries will face disaster. Some will experience daily queues for petrol. We will be the luckier ones. We need only pay high fuel prices, something like RM2 per litre next year. And I would call that lucky. But food prices will rise phenomenally.

But when will the Hubert’s Peak arrive?

Arguments ranged from the year 2001 to 2010.

I think future historians will say it is THIS YEAR 2005.

Crude oil prices have breached 62 USD per barrel momentarily this week already. Two short years ago it was only around 25 USD.

Events of the world such as war and bomb blasts will deflect people’s attention and may give the impression that this is a temporary situation that will go away. It will not!

No matter how peaceful the world is, the worldwide oil shortfall is genuine. Even if everybody stops fighting, hold hands and call each other “Darling”, it also cannot go away. That’s because the PLANET IS FINITE. Once we reached Hubert’s Peak, shortages cannot be solved, and prices will continue to rise at a dizzying rate. Most of us will live long enough to see the planet run out of oil.

Local petrol prices have already been increasing slowly prior to 2005. But the rises have been marginal, like averagely 10 cents per litre per year. Once after 2005, it should rise by something like 40 cents every year by my gut feel. There is nothing that the government can do. When I listened to the news this morning to hear a minister say that the government does not plan to increase petrol prices, I already know that he cannot prevent it from happening. The diesel shortage we experienced earlier this year will hit again. The market follows reality.

If you remember, last September, in my posting “Petrol prices will rise” I mentioned that high prices was a wake up call.

I like high oil prices. It discourages demand and forces the world to develop renewable energy sources, such as wind power. I am not weird. The future generations will have to pay a big price because we consumed away their petrol heritage. We should not be selfish about this. When your children grow up, they will not be living the way you do. They will be using ration stamps to obtain petrol. Your grandchildren will ride bicycles to work. Better get used to that idea.

Poor nations produce more children than they can feed, so they have to depend on charity of others. But after Hubert’s Peak, many rich nations will become like Russia; barely getting along without extra bread to spare. There will be no more “We are the world” pledges.

This is one of my rare serious postings. 2005 will be the watershed year. For some reason, I became aware of global events much more than I want to. I much prefer to go back to posting inane stuff. But when Reality charges, it is best to step aside. Regular-style posting will continue only next week.

For those of you visiting this blog regularly for a spot of light hearted posting, I am sorry. Certain news can be sobering. But it has to be told. Nothing is always la-di-da all the time.

What can we do? We cannot live our lives in fear for the future. But we can live wisely. Thank the heavens that we live in this country. Without the need for winter heating, the fallout will be less. I think, with some ingenuity and some prudent adjustments to our wasteful ways, we can still lead a pretty good life. I certainly intend to.

That’s it. You’ve had your warning on Hubert’s Peak. My work is done.

To all my friends and fellow bloggers still in London, I pray for your continued safety.

To the friends and families of the victims of the bomb blasts, my heart goes out to you in your moment of pain and sorrow.

To the city of London on whose buses I have enjoyed riding, may you recover rapidly from this senseless darkness and plough on with the resilience that you have always shown.

I can’t believe that I’ve pinged PPS 3 times already this week. That’s it….the quota’s busted. No more blogwhoring for this blog for the rest of the week.

While waiting for my food this morning in a coffeeshop, I entertained myself by reading the advertisement posters on the walls. Some of them have really good taglines.

A sampling:
Nescafe: A Great Day in every cup
Lipton: Good things grow.
Mirinda: Taste the thrill

I have great admiration for people who can write taglines. I once won a prize for writing a tagline which I thought was not very good. It was a stupid phrase written hurriedly on the spur of the moment, but I guess the competing writers must have written schlock. The problem with writing taglines is that practically all the great lines have been taken.

However, there is hope!

Four words: Copy shamelessly and modify!

Look around you. Everything that you see has been copied legally or illegally from elsewhere and painstakingly modified. From the battery in the car that you drive to the embarrassing crotchless underwear that you put on so proudly.

One of the best taglines I have ever heard came from the Dreamland mattress company:

“Tomorrow begins tonight.”

Now, all it needs is a little ingenuity to modify it for a Family Planning Clinic, and voila:

“Tomorrow’s babies begin tonight.”

The Nescafe tagline? Easy.
Just modify it for a bra manufacturer:

“A Great Handful in every cup!”

The Lipton advert? No problem!
Modify it for Viagra:

“Good things grow hard!”

I still can’t think of a good modification for the Mirinda line yet. It’ll come. I’m sure of it.

Kids like me. For some mysterious unknown reason. When we get visitors, it is usually me that the kids will follow around the house. Like I’m a cool rock celebrity or something.

During the weekend, we had some visitors and one kid just wouldn’t leave me alone. A streetwise fella who had more adult education than his parents suspected. He kept following me around and giving me bad advice. When he saw that I was not following his various bits of wisdom, he started asking me dumb questions to which I had no dumb answers.

Then, to show off his superior knowledge, he started asking me the riddles he had learnt in school.


“What bra can make rabbits disappear one?”

“Big bra. Big enough to cover the rabbits.”

“No, this one can do magic one.”

“Abracadabra!”

“Yes. What bra can find in the sky one?”

“Air stewardess’s bra.”

“No, higher than that, in the stars one.”

“Libra!”

“Correct! What bra come from Africa one?”

“Black bra.”

“No, got stripes one.”

“Black striped bra.”

“No, no! Get eaten by the lion one.”

“Zebra!”

“Yes. What bra long long one?”

“Cobra!”

“Yes! What bra is not in front but at the back one?”

“An idiot’s bra.”

“No lah.”

“Vertebra.”

“Correct! What bra can give you a lot of problem one?”

“Where got bra can give me problem one? I so espert.”

“Got lah. The problem you must solve one.”

“Algebra!”

“Yes! What bra very secretive one?”

“Spy bra.”

“No!”

“Don’t know leh.”

“Victoria’s Secret.”

WTF????? Smartypants trying to show off a little worldly knowledge. I told him to grab a brush and help me scrub the flower pots. He suddenly lost all interest in me and moved off.

These must be the more interesting adverts I have seen locally. Found them in the Sun(Jul 2 -3, 2005) issue which is distributed free in the Klang Valley. If you have a copy with you, turn to page 27 and you should see this:



“If I busy, Call again”

This is obviously some busy chick.
So she took out an advertisement to tell her friends not to give up if they can’t get through to her on the phone. Obviously, you need to be persistent, to be her friend. Although I have a suspicion that having money to spend is not a bad thing either.


Here’s another one that is quite undecipherable



“Feel Looney with your Life?
Find your fun with us.”

Frankly, if you ask me, being looney implies that you are a lot of fun already. In fact, you are heaps more fun than a barrel of monkeys. You don’t need to find any more fun!

Anybody out there feeling looney with your life? And still looking for more fun? Hello? We are all fun people here!

I am quite convinced that smart people are fucking up half of this world and stupid people are fucking up the other half.

The best kind of people is what I call the 'everyday people'.

Sometimes I wish that I was just smart enough to know that I’m not stupid, but stupid enough to think that I am not smart.

I was planning a trip to Tanjung Sepat for seafood after seeing the great pictures in Gina’s post. But the trip tak jadi because Hot Babe was not feeling perky enough this weekend and I did not want to go without her.

Tanjung Sepat is between Sungei Pelek and Morib in Selangor. The strange thing is, I never remembered it. I have been through the road between Sungei Pelek and Morib several times, but there was no Tanjung Sepat. The trouble with small towns is that you should always keep your eyes open. I must have blinked. Every time.

If you will remember, Tanjung Sepat is the UFO capital of Malaysia. I was planning on going to the little town to scout around. Many years ago, I saw a triangular bright object in the sky with crisp lines and since then, I have been unwilling to dismiss the aliens as fanciful stories.

If it was indeed an UFO that I had seen, then it must have seen me looking at it. It would be a simple matter for an advance technological society to quickly scan the retinas of all the millions of humans and animals within sight to realise that I was indeed looking at it. Just like modern warplanes know when they are being tracked by missile sites.

I was looking at them. They know that I know. And I know that they know that I know. I don’t fear them. We have different roles. They are immortal alien robots seeking meaning, And I am the vulnerable genetic life giving them meaning. Symbiosis. I bet they read my blog. I’m so wishing to go to Tanjung Sepat. For seafood. If the aliens are still there, they may enjoy watching me eat.

As a child I had always wanted to write a kungfu epic. Like Ku Loong, the famous writer who wrote a lot of kungfu stories for the Hongkong movie producers. But writing epics takes too long. Probably a few years. And I don’t have that kind of time. I have to work, okay.

But I had the storyline ready. It goes something like this:

A young orphan kid was adopted by an old kungfu master who was skilled in the healing arts, and who passed his knowledge and property to him. The kid was a martial arts genius and he grew up to be an brilliant kungfu exponent. After his master passed away, Kungfu Man went and lived near the Capital. Everybody respected him and nobody there could match him in a duel. His skills were so good that he often went out without a sword.

Kungfu Man fell in love with a girl who was betrothed to another. The affairs of the underworld were often complex. A crooked official set a plot into motion to get the kungfu masters to fight among themselves. As a result, the girl’s half-assed betrothed came and attacked Kungfu Man, and then got killed accidentally as a result. In mourning her loss, the girl blamed our hero. He handed her his sword and asked her to kill him. She said that she hated him, but would not sully her hands. In sorrow, our hero decided that he did not want to live on any more. But he wanted to die peacefully in a place where nobody knew him. Quietly and forgotten.

So, telling nobody his plans, he dispersed his servants and gave them enough money for the rest of their lives. Taking a substantial amount of gold and paper money with him, he left in the still of the night. Before he left the Capital, he decided to get rid off the crooked official who caused so much killing. Stealing into the official’s mansion, he killed the crooked official and his guards. Before leaving the mansion, he discovered two kungfu manuscripts written in a cryptic form. The official had confiscated them from someone but could not decipher the writings. Taking the two manuscripts on impulse, he left the place in flames. After that, everybody assumed that the official had perished because of the fire.

Kungfu Man wandered from town to town on horseback seeking a place to die. He stopped grooming himself, grew a beard, coloured his hair white and posed as a medicine peddlar. The underworld figures could not trace his whereabouts. Months later, he came across a mountainous region without any signs of human life. Travelling by a mountainous cliff, he spotted a tiny cave high up on the cliff face. Only a supreme martial artist would be able to leap up to the cave. Freeing his horse and gathering his belongings, he leapt high into the cave opening and then he lay down to die.

While waiting for death, he meditated on the sounds of nature. He listened intently, forsaking his world and memories, and all thought vanished. His body hibernated and the body metabolism slowed down to a crawl.

One month later, he got up because he had still not died. The intense meditation had slowed down his bodily needs so he was still alive. He was hungry and thirsty. There was no food and water. He picked up one of the two manuscripts and read. The month long meditation had slowed down his thought processes sufficiently for him to have a clear mind, and he quickly discovered the truth and intent of the manuscript. It was the Art of Reality Warping, where the exponent can affect the light rays within 100 steps and made everything there look warped and skewed, thus freaking out everybody in a battle within 100 steps.

Kungfu Man, mastered the Art of Reality Warping in two minutes and then laid down to die again.

One month later, he got up because he had still not died. Ignoring his hunger and thirst, he took out the second manuscript and read. It was the Art of Invisibility. In two minutes, he mastered the art. It was not a perfect technique as the exponent can only become invisible when conditions are right and he is unable bring his full internal energy into play while being invisible.

Kungfu Man then laid down to die again. A month later he got up. It was already winter and snow was falling outside cave. This time he wanted to have some water to quench his thirst. Dying can come later. So he went to the entrance of the cave to catch some falling snow. But the 3 months of physical inactivity had caused his muscles to weaken, and he slipped and fell out of the cave. It was a long fall since the cave was on the side of the cliff high above the ground level. The thick layer of snow on the ground broke his fall.

A passing woodcutter found him and took him home to nurse him back to health. The woodcutter had a wife and two children. The son was crippled in the legs and his sister’s face was disfigured.

Kungfu Man thought, “Woodcuttter is a good man. When he is gone, his crippled son will have no future and nobody will want to marry his disfigured daughter. I will put aside all thoughts of dying and find a way to cure both of them with my healing arts.”

The son’s name was Loong and the daughter’s name was Lan Fa. When they were young, they were playing in the wrong place at the wrong time and a local tyrant had his men broke the Loong’s legs and burned Lan Fa’s face.

Within 3 days of drinking rice broth in the woodcutter’s cottage, Kungfu Man felt better.

So he told the woodcutter, “I am a travelling herbalist. Your children are not beyond hope as they are young and have fast recuperative rates. In return for the kindness you have shown me, I will heal them. It will take three months. During this time I will have to impose on your hospitality again.”

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You see? Just talking about the initial plot alone is already taking up so much time. How to write some more?

My latest take on the Workshop 1 can be found in my Malaysian Idol site here:

http://malaysian-idol.blogspot.com/

If you are an M.I. fan, you may want to update your links.

Yo, listen.......I want everybody to practise recycling, and I mean EVERYBODY!

Coz if you don't, I'm gonna come round to your house and put your shitty little act together with an unstoppable hacksaw.



Threats will work, every time......yeah.