cookie-cutter comments

Just seconds before a person suffers from an embolism, I wonder if they hear the bubbles in their brains go “pop”. Speaking of which, another gratuitous form of ‘popping’ for those with the requisite disposition here; no, it’s not safe for work.

So the last settlers have left the Gaza strip. BBC radio aired a reporter almost going berserk while following the very last israeli to leave, commentating like it was a race against the finish — but for who? The BBC’s already saying that the pull out’s in Ariel Sharon’s benefit though I wonder how. He’s too wily a fox to be caught conceding space to Palestinians without retaliation. Or maybe the advantage of the pullout’s precisely that he’s now rid himself of far flung areas, in which exerting control away from the home ground has proven to be difficult.

I’m not a sympathizer, but I wonder how the Jews must feel: however they’ve gained their land, they are now losing it, this time an enforced exile perpetrated by their very own people. Pretty ironic; God scattered them for their pride, and now the veritable (and confused) voice of God has pushed them out from land the settlers have claimed as their own.

You could almost feel the build-up of trapped gas.

The things you want in life are those that matters most to you. Sounds like re-stating the obvious, isn’t it? What if the things you want in life aren’t really the things that should matter most to you? And who’s to judge which things are more important?

It’s better than sitting in a vacuum, isn’t it? That’s how my friends view it. You worry day in and day out what should matter most and then miss the rest of life thinking about the things that should matter most. All this said over coffee by a bunch of friends who had no idea what they wanted for themselves.

And this was about 4 years ago, now.

Yah, we distinguished between things of temporary value vs. things of enduring value, we thought about who makes those kinds of judgments; your parents, lecturers and religious leaders all seem to have an opinion, eh? Then we thought about it some more and we couldn’t come up with an answer.

So, several years later, I begin to wonder how they will answer now. Now that we’re enjoying the burden of being in the ‘real world’, I wonder if this ‘real world’ really is a sham, an elaborate illusion sustained by a mass of people living the same delusion.

It’ll be a comforting thought for me if this were true.

I’ve not been following the MCA elections at all; a few days ago I felt disturbed by this, but now I wonder why I am not. Have I become ‘cynical’?

It made me think about the articles written at Singaporeangle and Singapore Ink on apathy and political engagement. I don’t suppose anyone would care to provide a precise and definitive conclusion on the meaning of the word “politics”, since everybody has some idea of what it consists in (sic).
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My Mandarin sucks ruthless ass, virtually non-existent and a joke.

That meant bringing a relatively new colleague along, for show and tell and a bit of info here and there; as it was generally an engineering job, I was sent along to watch over things. Let’s call him P. I arrive at work about 5 minutes shy of our agreed time, and shuffle off to Batu Pahat in my trusty Perodua steed. Being about 8 months old already, he was up for confirmation, and I thought he’d keep quiet about the lack thereof.
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No empire lasts forever.

As the 31st of August approaches, I’m reminded of the eventual failures of empires. In their youths, they are strong, full of life, full of formless tension driving them to greater heights. In the proceeding centuries, they become bloated, fed each day on the fruits of their success while ignoring the rot within until one day, their leaders are bought and sold at the edge of a sword.

The roots of a very Latin tragedy just waiting to erupt in full bloom.
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I’m told it takes ruthlessness to succeed in what you want to do in life. Probably the ruthlessness implicit in being able to act without regard for ethics or morals. It calls to mind some things I’ve read before, on the use of violence and/or ruthlessness to cow people and make them submit to you. It’s more a mind game than a reality; if you are able to demonstrate to the other that you are willing and able to act without conscience, you will put fear in that person.

That person will fear you, will take needless care and might just slip up, while you remain calm and collected. The threat of force is, of course, much worse than the application of it (though some might dispute this).
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I’ve finally started after several stumbles. What’s different, this time, is that history and background is provided, and a vivid picture is painted behind the raw principles that I have to imbibe from today till mid-October this year.
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You know the kind.

Politicians weave a lattice of rhetoric to pull you in, and once entrapped, you find yourself in a web of belief spun by a Napolean, an underground man, a political fantasy.

Worse are the traditions that a community or group of people might wish to preserve, even though the fiction of such traditions bite at the reality of a people divorced from events that took place many years ago. I suppose some lessons are instructive, but not all historical legacies have an equal efficacy or validity. Cue the PM’s exhortation, in response to Keng Yaik’s speech.

“It is a formula bequeathed to us, which we must treasure and protect, so that it may continue to bring us success,” he said when launching the Merdeka Month Celebration and Fly the Jalur Gemilang Campaign 2005 here Wednesday night before a crowd estimated at 300,000.

Abdullah said what had begun as an agreement between the leaders of the independence movement was now a formula that protected the country against foreign encroachment.

“Bequethed”, “must treasure and protect”, these are the words refered to the so-called Social Contract amongst ethnicities in Malaysia, because it has, it is implied, brought us success. The question on my mind is, what kind of success, and success for whom?
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No, it won’t work. What “multi-culturalism”?

Jeff Ooi has posted the full text of Dr Keng Yaik’s speech here. It’s full of hope, but I remain skeptical, more so because such a call is disingenuous. While I do agree that the discussion of national identity shouldn’t be subsumed in communitarian ideology, I find it hard to imagine how else a ‘homogeneity’ can be envisioned without, in the end, putting to the sword any idea of a genuine ‘multi-ethnic’, ‘multi-religious’ society.

My contention is that we should remove our multi-cultural lenses rather than putting them on.
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Got balls anot?

I found a pair transplanted onto me. Yes, it sounds strange now, walking around with 2 pairs of the family jewels (destiny? the call to spread the seed?). Ridiculous, really, but I found the testicular fortitude to stand up to several people this morning. Ironic, too, since I was late for this morning’s meeting.
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Cynicism is a disease.

That is not to say that I do not succumb to it, only that it is easy to hide behind the smirk, the jaded, knowing laugh or the crinkled, disbelieving eyes.

Cynicism is a disease.

Like any cancer, you tend to feel your bowels go first, followed by the proverbial balls to do “what needs to be done”, replaced with the convenient “what’s the use?”
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You wouldn’t suspect it from looking at her. She’s pretty old, in her early fifties at least and inflicted with a constant need to shift eyes, lips and hands. She comes across as harried, constantly on the brink of a major breakdown and pretty lost; I don’t blame her, having seen and spoken to some of her clients/tenants. Maybe it’s a typically asian trait, but the tenants I’ve seen think nothing of harassing the management, as if paying rent has made the right to be an ass inherent and divine. You could see, however, that she had been beautiful in her youth (I wonder why I made that observation).

“So, if I hire contractor A to do maintenance, and in the course of doing work for somebody else in my building, contractor A fouls up, aren’t I vicariously responsible since, if the cause of the damage was due to a blockage, and I hire contractor A to do my maintenance, shouldn’t contractor A be held liable for incompetence?” she fires the whole salvo at me.

I blinked, my jaws tried to work and I saw her in a completely new light.
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A crappy Saturday morning and afternoon: I shuttle around town and outskirts to answer emergencies. Emergency at 2.00 pm means me ploughing through mud, dirt and bumpy roads on a half-assed 4WD thing with narry a hint of suspension left in its absorbers and springs.

That and, two hours into my ride around a construction site, I’m given more information I had previously requested, only to find out that I had wasted my time.
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I skipped a call for more beer and fun times tonight.

My reasons border on, get this:

1. the ethical considerations of imbibing too much beer, then stumbling home half-senseless,
2. my delicate condition after Wednesday night, and
3. an understanding that you can’t look for meaning at the bottom of a tall glass, dammit!

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Kyels has written an interesting piece on the use of English as a medium of communication here.
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