cookie-cutter comments

I’ve moved over to reduced and recycled (heh). So long, blogsome. It’s been great while it lasted. I’ll keep this site up for posterity and my immense ego

bleh.

I’m in the midst of moving off to another site with my friends, and we’re working out what we should do. In the meantime, I’ve been busy doing up another wordpress site with Zero and luthien, and it’s been taking some time. I think it could take another day or two, and I don’t think I will be migrating any of the posts here to the new site. Oh well.. blogsome’s been fun, but it’s time to move on.

I thought it couldn’t; on the one hand there’s enough trouble if lokapgal was indeed a Chinese national, and possibly less trouble if she was a local Chinese. Now we have news she’s a 22 year old Malay lady who’s 3 months pregnant (via Star/Maxis sms alert).

Bernama’s carrying a story about the findings to date from the commission over here.

What’s the reaction going to be?

As feared, it appears that these ear-squats are part of “standard procedure” but has no official sanction. Of course it wouldn’t, now would it? A Star report mentions this over here.

The OCPD has advised us that:

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Conspiracy Theories

1. There has been a meeting of minds amongst various subterranean creatures on the subject of adult torture: make movies based on children’s books.
2. Tthere has been a desert’s worth of good movies because aliens have taken over Hollywood. Spielberg? Confirmed alien, sub species bipedal four-eyeds.
3. If you see mushrooms growing outside your house, watch out for leprechauns. Signs indicate increased activity and missing gold, explaining the sudden hiccup in prices.
4. Porkers caught walking on hind legs and smoking cigars: invasion of Red Ham imminent.

A weird, cloaked guy with rusty scythe was last spotted walking around neighbourhood looking for strange, sand-filled contraption. Promises of death and doom for “those dratty thieves!”; “quick and painless” rewards offered for capture of camo-khakied cats last seen in the vicinity of the local bawah pokok.

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i love the numerical certainty of fevers. you catch it today, incubation lasts about 2 days (2.3? 2.1? who knows) and you find yourself sick. i blame zero and luthien (haha!) but i really blame the weather. unseasonally hot, my lips are parched and the air-conditioning isn’t helping much. everything’s cast in a golden yellow glow. i feel the heat radiating off the curtains, like the heat radiating off my forehead. [more..]

call it an internal evolution.

meeting two friends from across the straits of johor was a night to remember: it’s been a hell of a long time since i had a smile on my face when driving back home. our discussions are secret, of course, but i assure you, Subterranean Rats were discussed, as was the spectre of invasion of one’s privacy after death.

a word or two on that. luthien’s talked about it over here and here. we discussed this that Saturday night, and i agree completely with what she said:

sometimes, i wonder how smart these Tomorrow.sg editors are. some of them are simply too egotistical for their own good. a memoriam in the form of a book for her family to read - wasn’t this against her wishes? fighting a losing battle in the hospital, S had more things to worry about than her blog. she didn’t have time to inform her friends of her condition, much less log on to the Internet to shut down her site. maybe she wanted to, maybe she didn’t. we will never know.

the reason for going ahead with the printing, despite some protests, was a lame “we have spoken to her family and at this moment, we intent (should be intend) to fulfill our promises to them”. first mistake, you let the cat out of the bag. second mistake, you make a promise without thinking of the consequences. and the third mistake, you’re going to print that book. which is the worse evil here: to break a promise to her family or to print her diary (that she mentioned before was unknown to the family)? keep in mind that her family members are still alive, so you can still negotiate with them, but she, on the other hand, is dead.

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luthien and zero are coming over so i’m very excited!

i can’t decide between sushi or just plain sushi. i’ve got a few phonecalls to make and a few things to arrange over my end, first (unfortunately). i’ve had to suffer the delightful ministrations of this manager from kl who’s down for an.. internal audit of sorts. unfortunately, that means each and everyone of us are passed through his grinding-machine of an intellect. but it’s great, though. [more..]

I kicked up the dirt with my safety boots, walking through the puffs of sand and dust. It was overcast and the air smelled of rain, and the day was still young. I shuffled through a stack of papers on my clipboard, thinking about the sheer drama some people are willing to put up with - most of all in themselves. Hyperbole I can take: I’m prone to impressing little cousins and grand cousins that way. Melodramatizing the issue I cannot take.

Enter offending article A: Mrs B, let’s call her. Cute in that 40-plus, worn out way with highlighted hair and the usual layer of gunk on her face. She looked like she still had a body to impress, but knowing how elegantly-cut clothes and push-up bras do wonders, I remained skeptical. That doesn’t mean I didn’t pay close attention to her, of course. She had her hair tied up and wisps fell across her eyes as she frowned in the effort to speak BBC english: mangled, accented and completely ah lian. Endearing, ya? [more..]

I don’t know why but it feels like a Friday. It’s felt like a Friday ever since my company announced that we’d be forced to clear our leave, with the exception of a few days brought forward. That would set me up for 2 weeks of doing completely nothing. Completely nothing. The thought of that just washed away any other thoughts salaried workers think of come year-end. It’s made me more of a rabbit on hyperdrive digging away at holes in the ground, trying to finish up stuff I’d have left over till next month to do. Unfortunately, that also means I’ve been having less sleep than required. Hazardous, my colleagues say, bah fuck: I’ve got more days of leave to clear than they — all of them — have.

Ha. Haha. Ha.

Pathetic isn’t it?
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It’s been a crazy past few days, but it’s gratifying to see the nation up in arms over the police abuse scandal - even more so than the AP abuse scandal. Everyone seems to be talking about it. My colleagues are a bit more blaise about it all, mostly because we all seem up close and personal how the police deal with matters.

I’ll have to look out for the news tomorrow in the papers: the incumbent either reacts in the way the public expects it to, or there will be more murmurs in the dark about abuse. To have all of this come at the heels of the Royal Commission on the Police is even more telling: that all of this goes on unchecked, despite the spotlight being on the police at the time.

The police have always had an image problem. As one commenter on another site concluded, it appeared as if the police and the incumbent works hand-in-glove with each other. I wonder how much of this is true, and I wouldn’t want to speculate without getting some facts. But the questions now are more insistent than ever.

It almost makes me forget I’m still doing office work at home.

You get caught in the same haze. It’s so hollywood-movie, so very normal. I’ve been here before, and it seems these days I walk in circles. No pretensions of a superficial Return with a capital ‘R’, surely. Just jaundiced mummery reaching for some certainty in the everyday.

Something luthien said struck me as being completely true: “this is what this job can do to you. all your perspectives turn hayewire. but you know what the worst consequence of this job? overt self-importance. you think you’re invincible (quite honestly, you’re quite invincible to a certain extent), you think you rule.”

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It’s late and my attempts at purging what refuse I had digested this evening hasn’t developed into a meaningful report. It’s all in pieces and I can’t make sense of it. That’s not a good thing, sir. Not making sense of madness is ok, but really, being the cause of that madness is quite another. I’m drifting, I don’t even know what I’m saying.

I had the shelling of my life this morning. It brought me back to my senses, and I wanted to throw punches. Throw punches. The last vestiges of decency cast aside for one, pleasurable smackdown. I was on the verge today, with him. But I took it out on a 3.30pm appointment instead. He sat down and I sat down and I dispensed with small talk.

I told him: “You’re over-charging”.

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Affection’s a funny thing. She got the news yesterday and I was already planning to be home late. A quick phonecall and I was marvelling how close people are with handphones. I sound like a caveman, sure, but you learn to appreciate the really important things when the need and anxiety’s great. So she’ll go under the “ray gun” device thing for five weeks, then spend another five years popping an inexpensive pill to prevent mutations. Mutations. Isn’t that what happens? I wouldn’t know.

For a moment there I felt the urge to expound on enviromental problems and such, but realized I didn’t have the stomach to do it: you get enough of a dose watching crazy anime like Gilgamesh and Akira and such. I’ve never really understood this Japanese obsession with broadcasting these public service messages.

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It was close to 4.00pm, hot and my air-conditioning wasn’t working. I didn’t care, I was tripping on an adrenalin high. I was on my “circuit”, and I was weaving about with my beat-up car.

I was oblivious till I saw her in my rearview mirror. Black Toyota Vios, black suit, Chinese: an Oriental Psylocke with wisps of hair trailing and waving like black flags in high wind, only in slow motion. A frown, piercing eyes and pert lips pursed in irritation, I thought. The lights were still red, and the satria I was trailing threw out a few revs in anticipation.

A quick glance in my rearviews, and I saw her don her shades. It was a trick of slow-motion, maybe a trick of the sun making its way to its own grave: she was a picture of calm as the shades went on. An explosive, orgasmic being getting primed for some action.

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