A Heart for Luna Maya, A Finger for Infotainment Reporters

Since my last attempt to write a satire about the-whole-Luna-Maya-thing went haywire, I will now write in plain language.
First, my stand point.
1.    I think anything related to gossipy infotainment shows should go to mm... somewhere (I'm not allowed to say the H word, ssh...).
2.    Oh, and the rest of the celebrities who didn’t stand up for her could go with them too.
After we’re clear about that, now let’s get down to business.

***

Infotainment reporter – what kind of a job is that anyway?
Well, infotainment reporters are people who make a living by reporting the same thing all the time. Gossip.
Yep, all those information about someone famous’ private life that the public doesn’t need to know.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to even call them REAL reporters.
You know, the ones that give REAL news.
Compare these headlines,

“Cici is finally a Divorcee!” and “The Climate Conference Comes Out a No-Brainer”.

How someone could consider the first one to be some kind of news bewilders me.
That’s why I don’t think they have the same privilege the other kinds of reporters have.

For instance, they don’t get to say, “The public needs to know!”
I’m saying this because infotainment reporters sometimes use these magic words to justify their violent means to create their stories.
Well, my comment is, “Really?”
Does the public need to know if Caca is finally in a relationship, or if Cucu did have a break-up?
The public needs to know things that CONCERN them only.
Issues about humanity, war, economics, politics, the environment, and many other things are for the public to concern.
I don’t think someone’s private matters are among those issues.
So please don’t say because the public needs to know. It proves how a bunch of idiots you really are.
It’s basically like raping girls you like because “if you have a dream, you have to reach it no matter what”.
Don’t blow it out of context.

I also don’t like how infotainment reporters say that the celebrities get their success solely because of them.
I don’t know, but I always think that their OWN work also counts for their success.
It's just the natural process: they work their asses off, people like to see them so they want to see them more, their demands increasing, and so on.
Sure, publicity helps, but it’s far from “a sole cause to their success” like some idiot infotainment show hosts claim.
And it bugs me more when they say it like it is some form of a selfless act.
“It seems that Luna Maya has forgotten the reason she was so successful. Without the effort of the infotainment reporters, there won’t even be..,” and so on.
For God’s sake, infotainment reporters only do it because it will earn them their living! Besides, it's not like they always say good things about celebrities they cover.
It’s definitely not at all a selfless act. It's parasitic. They only publish celebrities that already gain some popularity on their own. I mean, will they publish me? Of course not. Who would want to read or watch something about me?
They are leeches, sucking the blood of celebrities.
Hm..
Come again, they are far worse than that. At least leeches do not think they are doing a selfless favor for their host.

To have the media controlled by this idiotic people has made me lost my hope to Man.
An uneducated community, sadly to say, just like what we have here in Indonesia, will certainly eat something like this up and let the media decide what to think and believe.
It’s a new form of fascism,
that is run by idiots.
God, can there be worse things?

And one other thing, the fact that the other celebrities fail to stand up for Luna Maya for God knows what reason (ass kissing? cowardice?) has started to taken its toll through these events:
-    Some infotainment reporters felt UNDERMINED recently because of the habit of a singer, Ello, who always ditched his show the second it was over, depriving the interviews infotainment reporters hope for. They didn’t just say their feelings out loud, they even threw away Ello’s pre-given CDs in an act of protest.
-    The emergence of some stupid comments by infotainment reporters like,
o    “It’s the risk of being a celebrity, live with it.” (Yeah, I agree. But I don’t think it liberates them to do just about ANYTHING to get their stories)
o    or countless other derogatory remarks aimed to Luna Maya that are very out of place, unfair, and plainly evil (such as the one that accuses her of faking her motherly reaction to Ariel’s daughter just to win the heart of his father)

Who do they think they are anyway?

- removed by author -

This post has been removed due to the author's apparent inability to express his true opinion and intention, resulting in misunderstanding and damages unforeseeable.

In short, this post was a metaphor taken much too literally, a fail attempt of writing a comedic satire.

In shorter, this post was an example of irony not understood.

In shortest, this post was a fuck up.

I'll try to do better the next time I write about satires so people won't get me wrong.

I truly apologize for everyone wrongly offended.

PS: I've always hated and will always hate those pesky gossip reporters. Gossip reporter is a kind of profession which sucks on the wounds of others to earn money. No better than a leech, and certainly deserves everything Luna Maya has said about it.
All my heart goes to Luna Maya and Mieke Amalia.

Screwed Up English Test

Just had an English proficiency test from LIA.
I can't believe how hard the listening part is.
It was filled with problems like this.

Man: How about our plan for Saturday?
Woman: The weather report says it will be rainy on Saturday, but Sunday will be sunny.

QUESTION: what is the woman saying?
a. [can't remember]
b. Sunday will be sunny
c. They have to postpone their plan until Sunday
d. [can't remember]

What the f***?!!! Which one should I pick?!!!

UPDATE
It's 611 and 84 for speaking! Thank God for the structure part!

UPDATE
It's 652 and 87.
I had some sleep.

The Reason I Usually Prefer Western Songs

Here are some lyrics from a western and a local song.
I hope it explains everything.

How to Avoid Being Called a Nutcase

I’ve just undergone a psychology test a couple of days ago for my neurology application.
Needless to say, the test went haywire.
In the end, the psychologist seemed to think that I had some mental defects.

Anyway, here are some don’ts to get you through such test safely.

• When asked to draw something out of a dot, don’t draw the solar system.
• When asked to draw something out of a square, don’t draw a giant hot air balloon flying through the fields AND entitle it ‘an adventure of exploration’.
• When asked to draw something out of a cup, don’t draw a giant telescope directed to the skies with a man underneath AND entitle it ‘peeking through the giant telescope’.
• When asked to draw something out of two connected lines, don’t draw a gigantic machine with its thruster glowing towards you AND entitle it ‘behind an ion engine’.
• When asked to draw something out of two parallel lines, don’t draw a staircase with a winged man on top, facing the clouds, ready to jump, AND entitle it ‘on the brink of enlightenment’.
• When asked to draw something out of a curve, don’t draw the earth with a figure standing behind it, trying to embrace it, AND entitle it ‘God is watching’.
• When asked ‘must good people who do nothing but good things receive good things also?’, don’t answer ‘yes, although I won’t be surprised if they don’t’.
• When asked why we have to keep our promises, don’t answer ‘because in this already uncertain world, the last thing we need is another uncertain thing’.
• When asked why we have to respect our parents and teachers, don’t answer ‘because they know better’.

If you choose to do all the above anyway, expect to have a follow-up interview filled with questions such as ‘what do you think of rationalization?’, ‘how’s your relationship with God?’, ‘what things in this life that you consider relevant?’, ‘do your parents let you think freely?’ INSTEAD OF normal questions like ‘have you worked before?’, ‘what kind of job do you like?’ that everyone but me got.

A Hand from God

Dracula

Picture Description
I made it based on a scene from Bram Stoker's Dracula.

I consider Dracula as a symbol of a human tragedy.

He was a man of God until HE gave him a trial beyond his strength (his wife was murdered while he was, ironically, away fighting for HIM in the crusade).
He was mad at HIM, and fell to the dark side for hundreds of years.
God did nothing and let him go.
When he was finally severely wounded by God's men, he wept looking back at his life. He had always been devoted to God, but HE let his wife murdered and left him when he needed HIM the most.
His dying words were,

"Where is my God? HE has forsaken me. It is finished."

In the end, however, God showed HIS grace. HE stretched HIS hand, reached him, and gave him the peace he had been longing for (characterized by a transformation of his devilish face into his former face as man of God).

O Come Ye Miyabi

The famous (or infamous?) Japanese AV Idol is planning to shoot a film in Indonesia, in which script is written by Raditya Dika, creator of the hilarious Kambing Jantan.

As expected, a serious amount of rejection from various community classes arise.

A massive protest of around 200 FPI members was even held in front of the production house.
They went as far as saying that they were prepared to die to prevent her coming.

Prepared to die...
Mm...

Anyway,
The question is why?
There are three reasons I’ve got so far from news coverage.

It just doesn’t feel right.

No comment on this one.

Indonesia has enough sins already, her coming will only result in God’s wrath in form of disasters.

Also no comment.

It is feared her reputation as a (or THE) porn star would corrupt the country’s moral values.

Tell me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you guys about 4 years and 62 titles late?
Her freaking videos is well around Indonesia, sitting nicely in almost every hard disk you can find.

I think we all forget the main issue here.

The issue isn’t whether what she’s done is right or wrong.

The issue isn't "Is pornography bad?".

The issue is she plans to come here to shoot a comedy.

It’s not illegal.

The whole thing about her coming is not the right place for your battle for moral values.
You can try stopping her videos from spreading, but you can’t prevent her to shoot a decent film.
Don’t get everything mixed up.
I wouldn't.
And sure as hell I wouldn't die for a mix up also.

Obama, a Nobel for What?

He won the Nobel Peace Prize, but for what exactly?

Guantanamo still opens; US troops are still in Iraq; no diplomatic improvement with the Palestinians, Iranians, North Koreans, and Cubans; and finally the climate change bill will not be done in time for Copenhagen Climate Conference.

One thing to remember though, unlike Nobel Prize for science or literature, Nobel Peace Prize has been given for RECENT achievements or even UNCOMPLETED achievements in the hope it would encourage the winner to see it through.

Maybe that’s why Gandhi never won?
Yep, the man of peace himself never won. Perhaps the committee didn't think he needed the encouragement.

A Pampering and Some Breasts

A quick one.
I’m still doing my study don’t worry.

This is merely an observation. I’m not saying it’s good or bad.

There are two major aspects I find in a love relationship, INSECURITY and IDEALIZATION.

Okay, here’s when the rotten eggs get thrown at me.

Insecurity is mostly women’s problem and idealization is mostly men’s.




By insecurity I mean, one’s inability to love and believe in oneself that one must seek them from a spouse.
You may have heard a story from DeMello. The story goes like this.

Mother: "What does your girlfriend like in you?"
"She thinks I'm handsome, talented, clever, and a good dancer."
"And what do you like about her?"
"She thinks I'm handsome, talented, clever, and a good dancer."

You may find this absurd, but tell me how many times have you heard a woman who was asked about why she chose her current lover in the first place, answered, “Because he loves and cares for me…”?
In other words of course, I love you because you can give me anything I want, pamper me, protect me, tell me I’m pretty, etc, and hardly because of who you really are. Just imagine the level of insecurity.

Well, what about men?
Men have their own problem that is called idealization.
Idealization clouds men’s view, impedes them the ability to see the truth.
It transforms a perfectly normal girl who defecates at least once a day and farts in a regular basis to be a digestive-tract-less Heidi Klum.
They fail to see the true beauty and insert their own ideas of beauty.

So it’s no wonder in declining relationships to hear this sentence from women,

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

Or simply from men,

“Meh.”

(as in you’re not as pretty, smart, sophisticated, etc as I thought)

What they say actually represents what they expect most from a relationship;

a knight in the shining armor who’s always up for pampering for women

OR

a 36B goddess for men.

I wonder if a relationship based on mutual adoration between two secured, honest persons even exists. I hope it does; here, not in Shangri-La.

Solitude

I need a moment of solitude.

No, it is not because I need to contemplate on something.

No, it is not because I'm just tired of the world.









IT'S BECAUSE I FINALLY HAVE THE NEUROLOGY TEST DATE!!!
And it's far earlier than November 12th!!! (I knew I shouldn't have trusted such too good to be true news)

• Interview starts on October 12th (some say it will be just like a practice-patient test, damn!).
• Psychology test is on October 17th.
• Written test is on October 27th.

OMG...
I have to get prepared.
Start the clock!
Catch you later.
MUCH LATER I hope.

Noordin M Top: Can I Trade Mine?

Terrorist Noordin M Top Was Sodomized: Indonesian Forensic Expert
Nufrika Osman

A forensic pathologist said on Wednesday that an examination of the body of the terrorist mastermind Noordin M Top, who was killed during a raid in Central Java last month, indicated that he had been sodomized at some point in his life.
“There is an anomaly in Noordin’s anus because it is shaped like a funnel,” said Mun’im Idris, a forensic pathologist from the University of Indonesia. “It indicated that somebody had sodomized him.”
It is unclear why Mun’im released the information.

God: Welcome my glorious servant. You have done a great deed by killing off infidels.
Noordin: Yes, o God Almighty.
God: As I have promised, you may accept these 72 beautiful female virgins as a token of your devotion.
Noordin: Mm... My heart is filled with gratitude and joy; but, can I trade mine with male virgins instead?
God: ...

- courtesy of Ric from a late night conversation -

COMMENT:
If all his pervert ideas that killed so many had originated from a sexually abused child, I am pretty much speechless.
And about Mun'im's address, to scare off Noordin's followers?

Singapore 09

There are more pictures actually.
It'll take some effort to get them all because they are stored in my friends' memory cards.
I had brought my own old-humongous-almost-a-kilogram digital camera with me at the time, but apparently had forgotten the memory card (how stupid).

I'll upload them as soon as I get them.

Eureka! My Very Own Magic Square(s)!

I was so proud about this.
Not too much now.

This post was supposed to be written and published at 6 AM.
But I had to go to the Sunday mass, so… there goes the excitement.

Anyway, let’s pretend that I am still very excited about this.

Yesterday, I saw Albrecht Durer’s magic square.
It was awesome.
For all of you who don’t know what a magic square is, well, it is simply a square with consecutive numbers on it.
The magic lies within the fact that the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
Albrecht Durer’s magic square, however, is more than that.

Not only does it have the usual properties of a magic square, it also has an equal sum of the numbers on its center square (which consists of four smaller squares), and all four quadrant squares.
Moreover, the number 1514 on the bottom row is actually the year the square was created.

Impressed, I decided to make my own.
After a gruesome long night, I was finally able to create what I think is a BETTER magic square.

Like any other magic squares, the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
But that’s only the half of it.
You will also find that the sum of EVERY four adjacent squares that form a larger square is the same.
Take any four squares that form a larger square you want, and the sum of the numbers will be the same.

UPDATE
From the initial square, I was also able to derive no less than 96 squares that follow the same rules (kinda takes away the value actually).
I divide them into three groups called batches.
For the sake of space, I'm only presenting one square per batch.

Batch 21-13/25-9
 2  16  5  11
13  3  10  8
12  6  15  1
 7   9   4  14

Batch 19-15/25-9
 7  14  1  12
 9   4  15  6
16  5  10  3
 2  11  8  13

Batch 18-16/25-9
 4   9   7  14
15  6  12  1
10  3  13  8
 5  16  2  11

But Albrecht Durer’s square has the production year on it, you might say.
Well, my squares are only 4 by 4, which means the largest number is 16. There’s no number 20 to create the year 2009.
But, as far as dates are concerned, here is the list of ALL possible dates you can get from my squares:
Batch 21-13/25-9
Apr 9/Sept 4, Aug 1/Jan 8, May 16, Dec 13, Jul 14, Oct 15, Feb 11/Nov 2, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 12/Dec 1, May 4/Apr 5, Aug 13, Sept 16, Jun 15, Nov 14, Mar 10/Oct 3, Jul 2/Feb 7.
Batch 19-15/25-9
Sept 16, Aug 11/Nov 8, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 14, Feb 7/Jul 2, Oct 5/May 10, Dec 13, Apr 15, Nov 14, Mar 16, Jan 8/Aug 1, Sept 6/Jun 9, May 4/Apr 5, Feb 13, Oct 15, Jul 12/Dec 7.
Batch 18-16/25-9
Oct 15, Feb 16, Jun 8/Aug 1, Sept 7/Jul 9, May 4/Apr 5, Mar 13, Nov 14, Jun 12/Dec 6, Sept 16, Aug 10/Oct 8, Jul 2/ Feb 7, Jan 15, Mar 6/Jun 3, Nov 5/May 11, Dec 13, Apr 14.

Hooray!
- The End –

Okay, now I’m going back to my mattress.

Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol: A Lost Adventure for A Lost Cause

I finished it in two days.

It's not that good.

The plot is same old same old.
The villain is definitely not a secret. If you can't predict him within the first pages, there's something seriously wrong with your head.
The way it is written is frustrating.
It produces hype for answers and then gives you a decent one.

It STILL has some high points.
But they have nothing to do with the common apraisals.
The philosophy behind the Freemason is good, and so is the mysticism.
The symbols are cool. I'm actually thinking to have it printed on a shirt.

Conclusion:
Just borrow it.

Melencolia I

I'm taking all of this from a book in which title I won't disclose in a hope it would not ruin the plot.

The piece of art is Albrecht Durer's. It was made in 1514.

Melencolia I consists of a brooding figure with giant wings, seated in front of a stone building, surrounded by the most disparate and bizzare collection of objects imaginable - measuring scales, an emaciated dog, carpenter's tools, an hourglass, various geometric solids, a hanging bell, a putto, a blade, a ladder.

The winged figure is a representation of "human genius" - a great thinker with chin in hand, looking depressed, still unable to achieve enlightenment. The genius is surrounded with all the symbols of his human intellect - objects of science, math, philosophy, nature, geometry, even carpentry - and yet is still unable to climb the ladder of true enlightenment. Even the human genius has difficulty comprehending the Ancient Mysteries.

This post is dedicated to all the depressed comrades. You're not alone. The sorrow is ages old.

A Journey to a No Man's Land

Hello world!
I'm back!

...from Singapore.

"What?!
Singapore is hardly a no Man's land!," you might say.

Well, for one and a half days, I actually thought it was;
and it had nothing to do with me getting warnings twice from the authorities also (let me tell you it's not for littering or vandalism).

It had to do with the malls.
I guess I'm not much for malls; and the first one and a half days were all about checking them out.
At first, yeah, they were great, especially considering just how many good looking girls roaming them.
But the excitement wore off quickly.
So much that I could only think of four words to describe the country.

Hot babes - Hot pants

That's all there is.
Where am I? I thought.
Everyone was wearing their best clothes, using lots of make up, spending lots of money for things I did not understand.
I was in the land of consumption frenzy, filled with beautiful looking beings that I don't recognize as mere humans.
I was in the land of the gods and goddesses... with malls all around.

(Some say it's a shopping heaven.
Well, I don't like to shop.)

***

It changed everything.

For the first time, I saw the beautiful landscape I had only been able to see in pictures.

It felt like I was in the pictures myself.
The pictures have come to life! I thought.
They are all filled with vivid colors! They surround me from every angles!
Until it hit me.
The pictures are real! I am really here!
I was filled with joy.
And it was far from over.

***

There were only three members (one had the guitar, one on percussion, and a vocalist).
They performed these arrays of light-relaxing songs, and were actually pretty good.
They talked to the audience between every performance, churning out jokes here and there.
Sometimes they told stories from their lives, which were all touching, in a light-happy way.
And to realize all was done on a stage with a backdrop of  beautiful landscape of the river, the tall buildings and the Merlion at night, was just unbelievable.
It was almost a trance for me.

But I was given more.
In the middle of a performance, all of the sudden, an old man on the front row stood up.
I thought he was going to the toilet when he started...
to dance.
Yes, he danced in front of the stage, at the watching eyes of the crowd.
And it was not just a simple dance.
He danced the dance I thought only someone with booties could pull.
The old man danced passionately; and we all cheered.
I almost cried that night.

The next day, I traveled alone to the edges of Singapore.
I saw flats with dried clothes hanging on its railings, schools, bad malls like the ones we have in Bekasi, dirty public toilets (yes, that's right).
I saw ugly people, high school students just coming home from schools, college students, workers, senior citizens, children, families.
I saw a land of Man, with mere Man all over it; ordinary people doing ordinary things.

I was no longer in the land of gods and goddesses.
I was in someone's country, someone's home.

It was beautiful.

I never thought I would be excited to see all the things that had made me happy.
I mean, dried clothes, public toilets, workers? Get real.
But I was.

Departure

I'm leaving!

I'll be back seven days before my neurology test (speechless).

Wish me luck!

Don Rosa's The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: A Hidden Gem

A friend of mine has already posted this comic on his site, so I won't mention much about it.

I just feel I have to post it again because it is actually very good.
It reminds me the sheer joy of optimism and hope.
I've always loved Disney stories. I have fond memories of them in my childhood.
I guess that's why the impact is even greater for me.

Just read it, you won't be sorry.

I Say Grace

Thank you o dear Lord, for what I have received from it.

1. I have become stronger
2. I have learned a lot about myself
3. I have something to write
   
4. I have learned about forgiveness
   
5. For the first time in a long time, my heart is love again
6. 
   
7. 
   
8. 
   
9. 
   
10. 
    

If the amount isn't ten yet, then I'm still trying.
But I'll get them all, don't worry. :)

UPDATE
I just don't give a shit anymore.

The Truth about My Tooth

Have I ever mentioned about my tooth?
It shattered to pieces about a week ago.

Okay, actually, there were no more than two pieces. But it still freaked me out. Let me tell you, the last thing you want to see is a crack line that parts your tooth into two perfect halves, where blood flows every time you nudge the parts apart.

Anyway, I went to the nearest dentist I could find.
The dentist, to my surprise, was a very very FINE woman.
She was pretty, with big eyes, great smile, perfect skin...,
and judging by the size of the tummy, was about 32 weeks pregnant. (Talk about the fastest heartbreak you’ll ever get)

I told her that the tooth had got its problems for years.
She checked it out, and finally decided to remove it one step at a time. She took the first half out quickly, and left the other half for about a week.

The next week, today, I went to see her again. I presumed it was going to be fast just as the first.
But it didn’t.
I knew that something was wrong the moment she changed the tool she was using for about, like, the 6th time.
Finally she said that the root of my tooth was firmly attached to my lower jaw (it gives a whole new meaning to the term 'attachment problem' I guess), and that there were two things that could be done; the first one was operation, and the second one was taking the tooth’s crown while leaving the root.
“Sometimes the root comes out by itself,” she continued. “I suggest you take the latter.”

She looked so confident about it that I, without hesitation, took the second choice.
The process won’t hurt, I thought. I bet it’s a normal, quick, and painless procedure.
It never crossed my mind that she’s actually suggesting to break what's left of my tooth in two.

Things began to sink in when the nurse started to hold my head tight. I was always a good patient; I never complained and sat quietly. So if she decided to hold my head anyway, there had to be a grave concern that I, the good patient, would still move my head.

Damn.
The process was painful and unsurprisingly long.

She finally managed to take the crown out, or should I say crowns, considering that the crown shattered again into two pieces? (My tooth was a freaking cluster bomb)
Now I just have to wait a month to see if the root does come out. If it doesn’t, well, the operation is inevitable after all.

Blah, it’s the least of my problems.

The Price of Knowledge

Have you ever seen an episode of The Simpsons where Homer becomes smart?

It turns out that there’s a crayon embedded in his brain that makes him a dumb man we know.
So, a surgery is done to remove the crayon; and after that, he turns into a smart person.
It goes well for Homer, but after a while, knowledge starts to take its toll.
He realizes that he cannot be as happy as he was. He is unable to appreciate the simple, stupid things that used to make him happy. To know really takes the fun of everything.
In the end, he undergoes a second surgery and has the crayon reinserted. He is dumb again but very happy.

I can’t tell you how much I relate to this simple story.
In my spiritual journey, I have come to realize that everything is just, well, NOTHING.
And as the result, I have lost almost all my faith in them.
I don’t have anything to fight anymore, because everything is just worthless.
The world for me now is just a bunch of lies.
It still has its own eternal values (silence, serenity, prudence, true love, etc), but none of them gets me as excited as the lies would.
In other words,

The world is big
The world is profound
The world is divine
And it is no fun.

It gets me hard sometimes.
And since I cannot undo what I already know, what must I do?

Anthony DeMello once said that in life there were two things a human had to do.
The first one was to know that everything was pointless.
And the second one was to pretend we didn’t know the first part.

Truth be told, I don’t know how to pretend.

So, I need a new knowledge, a new belief, a new value that will make me happy again; because I have lost faith in the old ones.

Must I decide my own NEW values (as implied by Nietzsche)? Must I determine my own subjective truth (as was told by Kierkegaard)?
The problem is, both men who suggested this already had their own values. They were just having a hard time because their values differed greatly with the accepted values at the time. That’s why they came up with what they said.
And as for me, I have no values of my own. I simply have nothing to believe. To force myself creating one and believing in it would just be, well, FAKE. I wouldn’t buy it for a second.

I still believe there’s something to believe out there; something that will get me fired up again, something to fight for with passion.
I know so because there are people who have found it.

I guess If I had the chance to meet Jesus, I would ask Him one question.
“What is it?”
As in, “What is it that you found that made you so content, you didn't even curse a single word while going through the worst execution on earth?”

I just want to believe in something again.

My Name is Jonah

There were two guest priests at Sunday mass today. Both were Divine Word missionaries.
Upon starting mass, the host priest offered them the microphone to introduce themselves.
One of them received it and started talking.

“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” we choired.

“It is good to be back in Indonesia," he continued. "I am an Divine Word priest. For ten years, I’ve been living in Argentina. I’m doing a mission there. You know, more than 90% of its population are Catholics, but don't expect to see a crowded Sunday mass just as we have here. People there seldom go to church. This matter of faith intrigues me...”
[And he went on and on about his mission there.]

I said to myself, “Divine Word missionaries sure talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”

Finally he stopped speaking.
He was giving the microphone to the other priest when it suddenly struck him that he hadn’t said his name in his supposedly 'introduction'.
So he took the microphone back and said, “By the way, my name is Jonah. If you’ve heard about the man who stayed in a fish belly for three days, well that’s me.”

Upon hearing this, my uncle, who happens to be a Jesuit priest, whispered to my ear.
“Divine Word missionaries do talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “And I thought whales were mammals.”

"You know your god is man-made when he hates all the same people you do."

A Long and Dull Explanation about My Most Hated Subject

It’s love.
Okay, move along.
You can still get out from this before I start.

For the ones who are still with me…
I’ve warned you.

Love (by this I mean the man-woman love)…
The subject I hate the most because mostly people talk about it in a cheesy way.

Being a mostly nihilistic person, I have deconstructed most of the ideals I took for granted.
I have unmasked them, shown them to be nothing at all.
I have seen that they have no values of their own, other than the values that we give.
One of them is, of course, MAN-WOMAN LOVE.

How do I define it?
I define it, simply, as friendship with the benefit of sex.
Sometimes it's even worse. It is a DEAL for treating each other nicely.
There’s all there is to it.
The rest is pure idealization.

All you have to do is simple.

• Find a person you like to be with
• Make sure that the person’s physical attributes are acceptable by your (sexual) standards
• Sign a DEAL with her/him to be each other’s exclusive friend

That’s it.
After that, you just have to idealize the person, put some romantic projections on her/him; and remember to put her/him in a significant place in your life, so that you will become dependent on her/his constant presence.
Just make a memory, drama, or anything.

Voila, you just find yourself an attachment.


NOW, what I really want to say.

• I still find it to be a great sensation.
• I still appreciate it.
• I still see a lot of good things coming out of it.
• I still cherish it.
• I still want it.

But as you can see from my explanation above, I will not accept overrated beliefs about it.

• I don’t believe in love at first sight.

AND

• I don’t believe in unconditional man-woman love.

OR

• other kinds of similar exaggerations.

I know it sounds bad, but let me try to explain by case examples.

Case A
Mr. Bond loves his girl so much. But he can’t be with her because if he does, she won’t live. His enemies will go after her.
So he leaves her. His love for her is much greater than his desire to be with her. He sacrifices himself in order to save her. He feels pain, but it is fine for him.

Is his love unconditional love? After all, he expects nothing in return.

The answer is NO.
He doesn’t have ANY choice. If things were different, he certainly would be with her. His love is no different than anyone’s. He STILL hopes for something in return. It’s just his circumstances won’t allow it.

Case B
Mr. Ogre is ugly. He loves a girl, but the girl doesn’t love him back.
So he just wants happiness for the girl; even when she is in other’s arms.

Is his love unconditional love?

The answer is NO.
The reason is the same. He’s got NO choice. And maybe, he also gains pleasure from the pain it brings.

Case C
Mr. Drama loves a woman. But he leaves her because he thinks she’s better off without him. He always complains about the pain he has, but he trusts it’s for the better.

Is his love unconditional love?

Same answer.
Same reason, especially the ‘seeking pain for pleasure’ part.

Case D
Ms. Soft loves his husband. She gives him a lot but expects a lot in return. The husband only gives a little and expects a little also.

Is Ms. Soft’s love worse than her husband’s?

NO.
It’s just different. She was raised in a family that gives and receives a lot, while her husband wasn’t. Her love isn’t worse. She just has a different way of handling it.

Some people would claim it to be worse. They would say that she had no unconditional love, because she expected something in return.

I say, what do you expect? Isn’t it normal to expect something? Isn’t it man-woman love is all about?
Man-woman love is all reciprocal, back and forth. It’s about wanting and being wanted, giving and being given, desiring and being desired. It’s so sexual.

Unconditional love is just IRRELEVANT in man-woman love. It may be a Godly love, friendly love, or anything; but it certainly isn’t a man-woman love. It’s always been a DEAL, remember? A TWO-WAY thing.

And one other thing,
I don’t believe there are rules in man-woman love. There isn’t any guide about what can be done and what can’t.
Any guide found is simply taken from friendship guide or business guide.
A few examples:

• A cheater isn’t guilty of love; he/she is guilty of manipulation, backstabbing, deliberately hurting, breaking a deal, or something like that.
• And so do people who forget anniversaries. Their guilt is not against love; their guilt is simply because they break the deal (if pampering your partner is included in it, like most do).

Don’t get me wrong. I still think the whole man-woman love as a GREAT thing.
But, I don’t think it needs to be exaggerated.
It’s all these exaggerations and idealizations that produce so many problems around it.

PS: damn it, it's so hard to write about this non-ending frustrating subject. I hope I've made myself clear.

UPDATE
Since so many people have got me wrong, I will say this.
Contrary to popular belief, I think man-woman love IS great! In fact, it is so great, it doesn't have to be unconditional to be considered great.
The greatness doesn't lie in its unconditional property (which is non-existent by the way), but in its sexuality (two people wanting each other completely - please don't get me wrong again).
There. I've made my point.

Just for Me: a Revelation

If the baker thinks the bread is shit,
then it certainly is.
So why do you bother eating it?
Just dump it.
It's shit!
O dear Lord...
It's shit!

Not Much for a Copycat

I am not a bad forger. I can copy signatures quite well; especially when I’m most relaxed.
It’s proven to be useful several times for me and my friends, in college and after.

So it’s bewildering for me to suck at it in when it mattered the most; especially when the signature I had to do was my OWN.

I got my passport today, and there were two things that needed to be signed.
One was a form, and the other one was the passport itself.

I decided to sign the form first.

Guess what happened? I choked in the middle.
I couldn’t remember how to finish my own signature.
Damn.
So I just held my breath and wrote the last half quickly, hoping that it would remind me.

But it didn’t.

There written on my form, a signature I didn’t even recognize.

It couldn’t be changed. So I went on to the passport.

I took a deep breath this time, trying to relax. It was my last chance to do right.
Then with a strong and confident stroke, I signed the passport.
The result was a beautiful signature, strong, and clear…
And it looked just like the one I had in my form…

What the hell? I said to myself.
I’ve heard about people making mistakes in signing their names, but I’ve never heard about someone making two perfectly identical errors.

On one hand, or should I say the good side, it’s convincing; since I’ve got two identical signatures.
But, why the hell would I need to be convincing? It’s my own signature!
I don’t know.
I don’t have to change my signature to resemble them from now on right?

Keep Your Pimp Hand Strong!

Read some neurology will ya!

Profile: Antareja, the Deadliest

Antareja

Antareja was the son of Bima (second brother of Pandawa) and Nagagini (daughter of the snake god).

Being the grandson of the snake god, Antareja was born with scales all over his body that rendered him immune to all weapons. He couldn’t be killed as long as he touched the ground. He could also revive the dead, defying the person’s decided fate.

His most popular and deadliest ability, however, came from his tongue. He was so venomous that he could kill someone just by licking his/her footstep, without ever had to make direct contact with the person’s body at all.

He was truthful, reserved, loyal, willing to sacrifice himself, and devoted to the Gods.

But all of those noble characteristics were not enough.

Kresna, a reincarnation of the God Wisnu, thought that his existence could tip the frail balance between Pandawa (good) and Kurawa (evil). His participation in Bharatayuda would have meant a quick end to the war, depriving it from its glory, original purpose, and destroyed the fragile storylines for every character which had been meticulously woven by the Gods.

His doom was a must before Bharatayuda could start.

So Kresna came to him and had him killed by telling him to lick his own footstep.

Antareja was dead simply because he was too powerful.
But it ensured Bharatayuda and all the glory that came with it.

A Fallen (for) Angel

Last night I phoned my best friend.
At one time the talk was about my love history.
In general it’s quite normal, except for that one time with a girl named Angel.
I never knew her actually. I just found out her Friendster page on the internet and decided to message her.

Well, maybe I won’t disclose everything in detail about it; but, let me just put it like this.
My pursuing her through Friendster messages has left me with these facts.

• One message makes you a normal person.
• Three messages make you a little misguided.
• Six messages make you a complete loser.
• Nine messages make you a borderline criminal.

• And anything involving coming around several times to her work place just to see her without even saying hello definitely makes you a stalker; regardless of how many messages you send; and especially if you send a lot.

My best friend just loves to bring that up. And it’s actually pretty funny once you’ve got through it.

Anyway, I heard that she’s single again, so my best friend suggested that I go after her once more.
“You’ve got nothing to lose anyway,” she said. “You’re at the bottom of the pit. There’s no way she can hate you more than she already has.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But haven’t you heard about jail?”
“O yeah,” she replied. “I didn’t think of that.”
She paused a bit.
“But one message wouldn’t hurt,” she finally said.

Hm…

PS: I swear to you this is not how I usually behave.

The Root of It All

It has come to my mind that the root of most my problems, if not all, is my insecurity.

I’m an insecure arrogant bastard.

How about that?

I feel I am better than anyone else but at the same time not sure about myself.

Such view has rendered myself to act only in two ways when I feel attacked.

• If I consider the person who’s talking bad about me is better, I will submit myself to a dark gloomy state of self loathing and feeling sorry for myself for not being any better.
• If I consider him/her to be nothing better or even worse, I will lash out in anger to be taken lightly by a person I think is a total loser.

The art of giving me enough love and appreciation in order to free it from the need to get them from others is a lesson I still yet to learn.

Just hang for it, OK.

UPDATE
(please note that I just got back from Sunday mass, so I wrote this in a state of peace and serenity)
All of the above is worsen by the fact that I have no patience or tolerance for idiots who can’t see what they are, thus are acting smart while in fact everything they’ve ever said or thought is plainly steaming crap.

Stupid, Just Stupid

I have my own stand on religion thank you very much.
So a stupid question like this makes me wonder about Man’s supposedly better brain.

“Why do you always question your religion?”

I am very sorry, but truth be said, it would be very difficult to find a dumber question than that; especially when it is followed with a just-as-stupid remark.

“Just accept it! I do. That is why it is called FAITH.”

God! Sometimes I don't believe You made Man by your image!
No wonder we still hurt each other for the sake of our fucked fucking religions.

First of all, I believe that FAITH is a response from Man to God’s touch.
And since I appreciate God so much, I try to respond with everything I’ve got.
And that includes this beautiful brain of mine.
I can’t just wear a particular outfit or eat something because the supposedly holy book says so.
No!
I have a God-given ratio. I have the wonderful ability to think.
And if I want to find the TRUE God, I will use it in my favor.

“But, Man can’t reach God through logic or ratio or thoughts.”

Yes, I agree with that.
I’m mostly agnostic remember?!!
Maybe I can’t use my so called logic or ratio or thoughts alone to reach God.
Maybe I still need that leap of faith.
But surely as hell (pun intended), I can use it to DISCARD all the idiotic things therein religion.

My brain gives me recognition of what lasts and what doesn’t.
It gives me the ability to differ what really matters and what doesn’t.
Using it, I can see what’s important and relevant; and what’s not.

Clothes, food, postural position, or anything dumb and only come from some traditional cultural heritage is not going to get any-fucking-one to God.
NO IT WON’T!
Awareness does, Love does, Humanity does; but not those stupid ways.
I can’t see how wearing a piece of cloth is MORALLY better.
I can’t see how eating some kind of food has any MORAL values.
I can’t see how arranged postures in prayer are in any way KIND!

They have no MORAL values!
You can’t say those actions are kind, can you?
It’s like saying that my dog is kind because he’s got brown fur. WTF??
It's plainly moronic to consider doing such actions makes you a good person!

Have you seen anyone poor get fed or anyone sad got comforted by it? Let alone will it take you to a higher conscious self of yours!

Stop being stuck with it you stupid people! Wake up and be free! Stop hurting each other for things so vaguely unimportant. I wouldn’t kill anyone who says my dog is light brown because I think he is dark brown, would I?

Wake up and see the real world, Stupid!

Why I Don't Give a Damn Anymore

Ah... Fuck it. You wouldn't understand it anyway.
You've still got a lot to learn my friend.

sincerely,

"the righteous snob"

in response to a late night conversation on Saturday, September 5, 2009

Samurai Vader

This is old news, but I just found out about it so...

Celebrating 2007 Tango no Sekku (some kind of Japan's Boy's Day festival), Yoshitoku Company (a toy company with a 300-year history of making dolls) released a Samurai Vader doll.

Star Wars has been known to borrow some Japanese culture and style to its characters and plot. Darth Vader's armor is one example. Its design is heavily influenced by Samurai Armors.

The Samurai Vader doll is an attempt to revert Darth Vader back to its supposedly roots. It is 1/4 of the original size and includes a bow and sword.
The doll isn't just made by cutting-edge sculpting technology, it also incorporates a lot of hand crafting using traditional materials. Most artisans enlisted are more than 70 years old.

As you can see, it turns out f*cking awesome.

A kabuto (helm) with bow and sword come with the price of 180,000 yen. While a full ensemble which also includes a yoroi (armor) costs 330,000 yen.
I'd love to get my hands on this one.

Quotes: Last Words

"I don’t feel good."

- Luther Burbank, last words

"They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist..."

- General John Sedgwick, last words

"Ask her to wait a moment - I am almost done."

- Carl Friedrich Gauss, when informed that his wife was dying

"Don’t let it end like this. Tell them I said something."

- Pancho Villa, last words

Squeeze Me Up Please

If you have to choose a Mikrolet (a kind of public transportation in the form of minibus), which one will you prefer?

• The one that’s crowded?
• Or the one that’s empty?

I myself will certainly pick a crowded one.

NO, I don’t like crowds.
NO, I don’t believe in ‘the larger the crowd, the bigger the chance to meet someone beautiful’. It’s a Mikrolet for Heaven’s sake. All I ever see are snobbish government workers, loud-insolent-gossipy high school girls, some traders with their oversized goods, mothers with children that for some reasons tend to puke on my shoes, or some criminal such as cons, muggers, and thieves.
Sure, sometimes I get to see college girls or young exec workers. But they rarely catch my eyes.
And NO, I have no sick pleasure of being squeezed by a lot of people.

It’s because I sleep in Mikrolets all the time.

In an empty one, I certainly couldn’t do it. If you see how Mikrolet drivers drive, you’ll know what I mean. They drive in a way you find only in action movies. Pulling stunts between tight close cars, changing lanes without any signs whatsoever, pushing dives around corners and hills, and taking sudden halts anytime they feel like it. I would certainly be tossed around like a pinball.

That’s why I need the crowd; to hold me in my place so that I can sleep.
And every time I’m really tired and about to hop in a Mikrolet, I cross my finger and say,
“Squeeze me up please, I need my nap.”

The Easy Way

I’ve been working to get a passport for the last week. I’m going to Singapore soon so I need it quickly.
A friend of mine told me to contact a person she knew; someone who’s able to get it done fast; a middle man or sort.

I had no options.
So I contacted this person.

I met him the next day. I didn’t stand in line just like everybody else. He just took me to his chamber, took the required files, and that’s it. I didn’t even have to fill out any forms because he said he would do it for me.

The next day was just as quick. I passed a bunch of people that were there before me and got myself photographed first. I finished earlier than anyone else.

It was nice, I know I needed that, but I can’t help feeling guilty about it. I’ve never liked to use this kind of service, and I consider people who do as a bunch of lowlifes.
But now I’m one of them.

I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel.

Anyway,
if you want to get your passport done quickly, you know where to reach me.

hub’s passport service
- It’s so easy, you’ll feel bad about it -

Keris, a Mystical Companion

Keris is a traditional weapon originated in Java. It is a short blade with two edges, sometimes with curves on them. It dates back from the 9th century and is shown on some reliefs on temples around Java.

Among the Javanese, Keris is highly valued. It is not just a weapon, but also a symbol for greatness or class in society. Only high profilers have the good ones. Some people measure it by looking at the amount of curves, the type of material it’s made of, or the existence of fingerprints on it (some are made magically by hands).

But keep in mind that it is NOT at all a functional weapon. If you like weapons like Katana, you will be disappointed in Keris. Very rarely does Keris show such perfection as Katana’s. Even the most famous ones are rough, dented, and heavily ornamented by reliefs. It is still a weapon of cultural beauty, especially for me, but it doesn’t look like it can cut well. It has a short range, funny hilt, and involves awkward positions to use that might as well hurt the wielder rather than the opponent.

The true strength of Keris lies on its mystical powers.

A Keris is never used early in a fight. It is reserved for the last moment; a last desperate attempt at a seemingly winning enemy. It is a tide turner. Even at a full scale wars. Its magical properties are so horrific and terrifying that it should only be used only when you really have to.
Its magic usually comes from the spirit that resides within. That’s why a good Keris has a name. It is considered as a living thing. The master can speak to it or ask for advices. Communication is usually done through dreams, just like the first time the master had it.
When someone has a Keris made for him/her, there are rituals that must be made. One of them involves sleeping with the weapon for a few days. If the master has nightmares, the weapon will only bring bad luck for him/her; and if the master has good dreams, the weapon will bring good luck to him/her.

As you can see, there’s a tight bond between Keris and its master; a bond that sometimes so tight, it can not be broken by death. This is the case with my great grandfather. He couldn’t die when he was supposed to, tormented in the state of not dead nor living for days, because his weapon wouldn’t let him. Only after his family did some rituals the bond was broken, and he died in peace.

In the Mahabharata, Keris is even shown to reanimate the master’s dead body in no less than two occasions.
One occasion is when Karna died after Arjuna struck his neck with his arrow. To his surprise, Karna’s body remained at still. Even the supposedly decapitated head was still on its place.
It turned out that Karna’s Keris took control of his body and keep it intact. It even spoke Karna’s voice to get Arjuna closer.
When he did move himself closer, it quickly flew from its scabbard and went directly to Arjuna. The only thing that saved him at the time was Kresna, pulling him away at the right time.

Keris is not just a symbol or a mystical weapon, it is also a loyal companion. Even after death.

Word of the Day: Brusque

(adj)
1: markedly short and abrupt
2: blunt in manner or speech often to the point of ungracious harshness

source: The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

"When I asked Celia Feight who dyes her hair, she brusquely showed me the door."
"The brusque demeanor of Gayla Vente left me thinking that she was a person of some importance."
"He was brusque, authoritative, given to contradiction, rough though never dirty in his personal belongings, and inclined to indulge in a sort of quiet raillery."

"The object of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other bastard die for his."

- General George Patton

Road Trip 08

It's been awhile since I wanted to write about my road trip. I had it with my friends back in 08. We went all the way east to Borobudur Temple, Yogyakarta, Mount Bromo, Bali, and Nusa Penida.
It is the best trip I've ever had. Especially considering that I had never went anywhere before.
There's so much that I wanted to tell actually, and yet I can't think of anything to write. Because it all happened a year ago? Or maybe because I don't know where to start.
Well, just the pictures then.

Can't wait to do the whole thing again.

Photos by: Rick, Ron, Chu, Tie, Ra, and myself

Hospital Night Facts

My father's in the hospital right now. That's why I've been staying there for five days.
Here are some revelations I've got from my stay.

• The amount of bread and fruit a patient receives from visitors can feed a whole village.
• There's only so much fruit a person can handle before vomiting excruciatingly.
• That is also the case with bread.
• The hospital toilet can suck literally anything.
• Never press any button with a picture of a cross on it.
• Never press any button with a picture of a hat on it.
• Never press any button with a sign 'push' on it.
• Never press any button.
• A hospital jello may look like a jello, smell like a jello, feel like a jello, but it doesn't taste like a jello.
• Endless visitors may worsen a patient's condition by depriving his/her basic needs, such as television.
• Chairs don't make a good bed. However, floors do.
• In no time should you wear anything less than decent in the room, for you're not in a hotel and therefore the room is never locked.

And last but not least;

• White clothes mean medical officers only if they've got feet.

Homosexual Hand

A few days ago I met some friends of mine. One of them has a talent for the supernatural. She gave everyone a palm reading and checked everyone's fortune.
The interesting part is when she mentioned about another friend of mine who had a gay line.
What the hell? A gay line? Can palmistry determine your sexuality?
Well, some say it can.

Just check your hand.
Signs that say you're gay are

• the mount of Moon is developed
• and the heart line ends in the lower mount of Mars

I'm not sure what 'developed' means. I assume it's got something to do with the strength and clarity of the lines on the related area OR that the area is simply inflated or bulged.

However, if you have these signs and don't feel any hots whatsoever for members of your own sex, just relax. It can also mean that you're just plainly sensitive.

Layout

For the past days I've tried to build my own website using weebly.
It's supposed to be the easiest web builder available.
I must have been a complete idiot because I couldn't build a decent one.
Or maybe I just haven't had enough time.

So, in the end, I just took the easy way.
I searched for free templates, found this one, and have been using it since. Turns out quite nice I think (I just love cityscape at night).
Well, weebly will just have to wait.

Anyway, back to work!

Busy

I've got A LOT in my hands right now, so writing would be a privilege for the time being (no more 30 posts in 6 days I guess)...
And any time spared for my blog will be focused on working its layout.
Hope everything's back to normal soon.
Stay tuned.

Word of the Day: Snide

(adj)
1a: false, counterfeit b: practicing deception: dishonest (a snide merchant)
2: unworthy of esteem: low (a snide trick)
3: slyly disparaging: insinuating (snide remarks)

source: the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

"I resent his snide, derogatory remarks relating to contestant's looks, personality and appearance."

Foolproof

"A common mistake people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools."

- Douglas Adams

In my first year of college, I lived with a friend of mine. We rented a house together.
He was quite smart, and he always wanted everything to be done quickly.

One day, I saw him writing a text message.
I could see that it wasn’t a regular message since it took him a long time to finish it.
So I said to him, “What are you writing?”
“A text message for Ben,” he replied. Ben is another friend of mine.
“Why do you look like you’re thinking hard?”
“Coz Ben never gives a quick answer,” he answered. “Every time I asked something to him, he always managed to ask me back before giving me the answer. Just like when I asked Lil’s phone number, remember? We texted back and forth just to be clear which Lil we’re talking about. For crying out loud, there’s only one on campus. I wasted my money just for texts.
Now, I need Jules’s number. But I’ll make sure he give me a quick answer. I’ve already written all there is to know about her. Her class, what she looks like, who she hangs out with, where she’s from, anything! There’s no way he can get out of this.”

So he sent it.
In no time, Ben’s reply came. We saw it together as he opened it.
I laughed so hard, seeing what he had written.

“WHAT FOR?”

How to Break a Tearjerker

I watched this show the other night. I’m not gonna tell you what it was, except that the show had female contestants.
At one time, a contestant was brought on the stage. And the host contacted her mother (she was from another town) via long distance call. It turned out that the mother wasn’t so keen about her daughter’s decision to move to Jakarta pursuing her dreams. At the end of the conversation, the contestant asked if she was allowed to speak to her mother. The host gave her the chance.

So she said between her sobs, “Mother, I know we’ve had our differences. But understand this; I’m doing this not only for my self, but for you. I love you and all I’ve ever wanted is to make you proud. I also want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I would not be here if it weren’t for you. Please pray for me always. I love you.”
By the time she was over the room was filled with sobs. The girl was so moving and genuine. Everyone couldn’t help but to feel for her and her love for her mother.
A moment of silence…
Then her mother replied with a loud voice,
“What? I’m sorry Darling, I can’t hear you. What did you say?

What a blower.

The Worst Song in the World

It’s Happy Birthday. Why?

Because for the birthday boy/girl it's three minutes of awkwardness filled with constant effort to stand still, do nothing, and listen coz you can’t sing with them since the song is about you, whilst keeping a smile no matter how dry your teeth it makes just for the sake of not letting anyone down, without the slightest chance to hide your face and take a break because everyone’s staring at you from every direction.

Come to think of it, maybe it’s the same for the singers. The only difference is that they get to sing.

A Self-Assured Criminal

For the past weeks my family had consumed this wine. It was a simple, red wine. My brother was the one who first brought it home. He also did all the buying since he was the only one who knew where to get it.
One time, my father told me to get it. So I went with my brother. He told me to bring the bottle with me to make it cheaper. With the bottle in my hand, we rode a motorcycle to the place.

Once we got there, my brother dropped me off because he had to draw some money.
I watched him go, and then walked lightly to the place. I hummed and swung the bottle back and forth. Some people looked at me, but I didn’t care. I approached a guy who was sitting next to a few empty bottles. I showed my bottle and said to him, “I want to buy this… wine please.”

He gave me a funny look than check my bottle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s out, the cops confiscated all of them yesterday.”
I could feel my heart stop beating.
“What?” I said. “Cops? Confiscated? You mean these things are illegal?”
No wonder everyone was looking at me!
So I hid the bottle in my arms and went straight home.

"Don’t be so humble - you are not that great."

- Golda Meir, to a visiting diplomat

Haywired Circadian Part Deux

Remember what I said about haywired circadian? I said that one way to get through it is to hold your sleep until it is the appropriate time.
Well, I forgot to mention something else. It’s gonna be a lot worse before it gets better.

Yesterday morning, I tried to stay awake when I was supposed to sleep (I used to sleep as dawn broke). And I managed to do that.
By night, just like everyone else, I began to feel sleepy. So I went to bed and fell asleep soon right after.
Hooray! Everything’s back to normal right?
Well it didn't.
I slept as if I hadn’t for two days. I woke up at 11 am, even worse than before.
And I thought I would get up in the morning just like everyone else.
Thank God, my clinic doesn’t start before 1 pm. I got prepped quickly, and went to work.

I’m going to bed after this. Let’s see how it turns out tomorrow.

Not a Martian nor Venusian

Have you read Mars and Venus Together Forever: A Practical Guide to Creating Lasting Intimacy? It’s a book from John Gray, PhD.
I haven’t read it either actually. I just found it on my cousin’s bookshelf one day and strolled through its pages quickly.
I thought it would be all about Men-Women jokes. Well, not jokes, just funny Men-Women facts.

But I was wrong. It is a book about marriage; how to succeed one considering that men and women are so different in nature that they may have come from different planets.
Basically it tells men to be more sensitive, and women to be more… well, INsensitive; and voila, a good marriage.

I’m not going to talk about it. I just want to say that it made me realize something. In the book, men are all macho, logical, and incapable of feelings; while women are all about feelings.
I can’t say I can connect with that. Based on the book, I’m neither a man, nor a woman.
I think I’m quite logical, but some events make me cry. Hell, some movies make me cry. I hate dressing up but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty (in fact, I can see beauty from the most mundane things). I watch Hikaru Koto (an AV Idol/porn actress) and Before Sunrise (a low-budget flick). I read about serial killers and how to make your own Christmas cards. I even like to talk about boobs AND feelings.
So what does it make me? A Martian? A Venusian? Is it important?

Maybe not. But now I know why I always fall for tough girls.

The Figure

A friend of mine works in a 24 hour-clinic not far from campus. It’s a small clinic, and the building has four stories. All medical practice is done on the fourth floor, while the third floor is used as the office.

Next to the office there’s a small room with a bed and a TV set in it. The room was meant to be used by doctors who work night shifts. It is seldom used though, since the floor is believed to be haunted. There are a lot of ghost stories surrounding it. They usually involve an apparition; a dark figure, that shows up walking around the floor at night.

One day, my friend was on her night shift. As others, she never steps on the floor at night, but that night she had to. She had got to pick up something in the room. So she carefully took the stairs and paced down.
Once she got on the floor, she quickly entered the room, took what she needed, and went out. Nothing happened.
She was half her way back to the stairs when she noticed that the office door was open. She should’ve left anyway, but did something she wasn’t supposed to. She looked through the cleft the open door had created.
And inside, there’s this figure, standing still, facing her.

She was shocked to death; her body froze, and almost screamed. The ghost was there!
But then she quickly realized that the figure was just her own reflection. It turned out she was looking at a mirror inside the office!

What a relief.

Maybe all the stories about a ghost, a figure, wandering around the floor were merely an exaggeration, right?
Well anyway, the next day she found out the office had no mirrors.

A Talented Ninja

I believe I'd make a good ninja.

Because everyone hardly notices me.

I don't know why, it's like I have no aura of presence or something. No significant quality or radiance, perhaps?
Couldn't remember just how many times I was thought absent from college or work.

It's fine. I kinda like it since I'm myself a bit schizophrenic.

One problem though. I hate to take buses. I have a different effect on bus conductors. It seems that my aura is enough for them to notice me, but not enough to remember that I have paid my fare. I've lost count on how many taps I get on my shoulder every time, just to hear that same old statement.
"Money, please."

By the Way

Julie Delpy in Before Sunrise

-The Most Beautiful Woman in the World-

Haywired Circadian

Just woke up.

Let me tell you, never mess with your circadian rhythm unless you have to. You're gonna be very very sorry. I should've known better than to wake up at nights, watch television and go online. I guess I've killed whatever left of my rhythm now.

Basically, living things have this daily rhythm of biochemical process that is called circadian rhythm. It tells them, for instance, when to sleep or wake up. The rhythm is influenced by external factors such as light and temperature. That's why when night comes (when there's not much light and the temperature drops), you get sleepy.

Well for me it doesn't work like that anymore. My eyes are open wide in the dark, and start to shut right at the break of dawn. No better than a vampire. Not to mention its mood changing effect or increased risk for cancer.

So what's the best way to deal with it?
Well... Drugs.
Or you can try to hold your sleep until it is the appropriate time to do it.

Damn, I know I should've stayed awake this morning.

Pretty Women

I had this friend once, and she could be considered as pretty. We used to go out together to eat and talk.
I had no feelings for her whatsoever though; I just liked her company and stories.
Anyway, at one time another friend of mine asked why I hadn't gone for her. And I said because I had this suspicion on pretty women. By suspicion, I meant more like paranoia. And I still do.

Why? Well, by experience, I find that most of them have two things in common.

The first, they are more prone to hypocrisy.

You see, this friend of mine was very popular. Everybody just loved her. Everywhere I went, people would say good things about her.
Now, being liked by most people may say that you're a nice person. But being liked by everyone?
There's just something wrong with it. I believe that if you go as yourself, how nice and kind it may be, there will still be someone who doesn't like you.
Their being liked by literally everyone means that they always try to please everybody. Maybe because they get so used to the amount of attention they receive for being pretty since childhood that they always crave for more. By pleasing everyone, they have a chance to be praised a lot more.
It doesn't always work you know. More often than not, they always end up hurting someone because of these pleasing errands. And it's usually the one that is closest to them. Somebody has got to pay the price, right?

The second is that they are barely ever single.

I know that relationships help you grow. But I think so does being single. Being single lets you learn about yourself, who you really are, what you really want; teaches you to be strong and mature, and gives you a chance to love yourself more. In the end you become a better person to love and be loved. The fact that they are barely single makes me wonder if they ever reflect at all; if they ever see themselves as a person in this world, and not just someone’s girlfriend. You know, a person with private hopes, private dreams, private goals that cannot be compromised by others’ take on her life; a full person.

Not all of them are like that. But most of pretty women in my life are.

Now, if I could just find someone who’s pretty but doesn’t know she is, or at least doesn’t really care… that would be very nice.

The Minotaur

The Minotaur

There’s a photo I found by Man Ray. It is called the Minotaur and it’s a surrealistic photograph. As you can see, in a way, it depicts the Minotaur. The arms represent the horns; the nipples are the eyes; and the belly is the mouth.

I always find myself chilling at the sight of this photo. And yet, there’s something about it that’s captivating. I can't help but to stare at it.

And I know I’m not the only one...

Some say that this photo inspired the Black Dahlia murder. It was a murder back in the early 20th century which was much too brutal for the time. The victim was a struggling Hollywood actress. She was found naked, mutilated, and posed to resemble the photo. The murderer was never captured.

Some people just go too far for art, I guess.

A Bit about CC, You China!

CC is a high school. I went there for junior and senior high. The name stands for Canisius College, though may sometimes be referred to as Cinasius College (meaning: College of the Chinese). It’s no surprise since most of the students are indeed of Chinese descendants. The rest consists of Javanese, Padangese, and a small number of other ethnicities.

There’s a tradition that is passed for generations in CC. We never let anyone forget what ethnicity they belong to.
We call the Padangese ‘Padang’.
We call the Javanese ‘Jawa’, or sometimes ‘Tiko’ (it’s supposed to be a Chinese word, but when I asked for its meaning once, a friend of mine told me to just let it go).
We call the Chinese ‘China’, and so on.

The names aren’t necessary used by a group to call a different group. They are in fact used by students in the same group to call one another. No one’s ever got offended, and we find it to be funny and friendly.

My girlfriend once confronted me on this ‘habit’. She said that race and ethnicity were serious and sensitive subjects. They are not to be taken lightly and irresponsibly.
At first, I didn't say anything. But when she kept pressing on, I finally said,

“Darling, the last time a man took it seriously, he killed 6 million Jews.”

Let's Peek!

Reality shows have become a large portion of television these days. Not a single day gets by without three, at the very very least. They may have different takes, but the bottom line is always the same. Private matters. We get to see people in their private quarters, doing their private things, telling their private feelings. Hell, we even get to hear every secretive-all whispering conversations.

I read in a newspaper once that the reason why reality shows are so alluring is because it is actually a type of voyeurism. Yes, that sexual interest in spying people engaged in intimate or private behaviors.
Well, maybe that's true.
Although it makes you wonder a bit. Has everything got to do with sex?

I watched fake wrestling a lot. You know, when half naked sweating men grope each other passionately for hours. That doesn't mean I'm gay right?

"In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

- Douglas Adams

Inspiring Others

:))

I just found out that my profile was actually copied and pasted on some stranger's profile. It's fine, but maybe she should check it a bit before putting it on her page. Unless she does sleep on the floor.
Geez...

Just watched a talk show on television. It was about the controversy around tari Pendet, a traditional Balinese dance, that is used in a tourism commercial entitled Enigmatic Malaysia.
Blah.
It's not the first time they try to steal Indonesian culture and claim it as their own (Angklung... cough... Reog... cough... Keris... cough... Wayang...). Not much cultural heritage to offer I see.
Anyway, on the show, one of the crew from the production house that made the commercial is wired through a teleconference. On the other side of the line is... non other than Indonesia's Minister of Culture.
And this crew member went rambling on how he used tari Pendet as a way of showing the history of Batik (wtf??) and that it was a traditional dance (so?? it's still from Bali for God's sake).
So the minister, God bless him, stopped his ramblings and asked,
"Do you know you used tari Pendet?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Do you know where it's from?"
"Yes, Bali," he said.
"Than why on earth would you display it and write down Enigmatic Malaysia all over it?!"
Hahaha... Finally. And the rambling was over.

I guess we do inspire something. In a way.

Word of the Day: Cheapskate

(n)
a miserly or stingy person; especially: one who tries to avoid paying a fair share of costs or expenses

source: the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

"OK so I went out with this cheapskate, he asked if I wanted to split a cheeseburger?"

Attraction of the Same Kind

There’s something I’ve noticed ever since my early years in medical school. I always attract similar thoughts and personalities. Well basically… similar people.

I never wanted to be a doctor actually. I can’t even remember how I picked this major.
Neither do my friends. And I mean most of my friends. Nine of my closest friends never wanted to become a doctor. And their reasons are equally pathetic, ranging from disliking physics (??), false belief about the amount of paperwork (someone actually thought that paperwork is less in medicine, just how wrong it is), and my favorite reason, “because someone I don’t even remember mentioned that prospect once.”

What a bunch of goofballs.

But don’t get me wrong. We all graduated with good grades.

Something to Remember

Darling, I’m gonna prove it to you.

I’ll be a fearless traveler!

I’ll be a good writer!

I’ll be a good doctor!

I’ll be an environmental protector!

I’ll have a magnificent life!

I’ll find God!

:)

Sober

I’m sober now.

And all happened only in one night.

This reminds me of what my parents used to say, “The pain may never go away, but it gets faster to heal every time it comes.”

I guess they were right.

Definitely Not Superhuman Anymore

I have a very very excruciating pain right now. From a trauma I had recently.

Wait a minute,
it’s not recent at all!
It was eight months ago. It was December 08!
How the hell have I not forgotten anything about it?! I hate myself for being so weak.

Actually I was rather fine for the last five months. I mourned for three months, and got my life back for five months.
But then, out of the blue, without any glimpse of sign, I woke up and found it lying next to me.
God, will this torment end?

For all the wise guys out there, let me tell you something.
I know about all the healing crap theories.

The only reason the pain comes back is because you want it. Deep inside you love to be tormented, tortured. You love to be in pain. You invite the memories.
Fuck!
I DON’T WANT IT TO COME BACK!! Who’s in the right mind would want something like that?! Okay, I know that some people do. But not me! I never invite the memories to come in. They just break their way in. How can I control something that comes without my consent?! That’s nuts. And believe me I’ve tried every single way to get off of them. But they always find a way. If they can’t do it in my consciousness, they do it when I’m unconscious. Nightmares, nightmares all the time.

Happiness is a choice. You have the freedom to be happy, despite everything.
Maybe. But it’s exhausting to be happy based on solely because you choose it for the last eight months, okay?! Can’t happiness just come? Must I always choose it? Can’t my urges be happy thoughts so I don’t have to dismiss them all the time?

Embrace it
This is the best advice I’ve had. Every time choosing happiness fails, I always try to embrace. But sometimes it makes me sick. Sick because I can’t see any way out of this mess. Sick because I feel no hope for getting out. Sick because I’m tired.

So I said to God,
I know this is wrong God, but can’t You do a tiny bitsy thing and SMITE THAT BITCH A BIT?!!!
She’s damn happy with her lying-backstabbing-angelic-devilish-disgusting face. She’s got all her friends, she’s got all her lies that keep her popular while render me the bad fucking guy, she’s got all the support she needs. She wouldn't even admit our relationship. Fuck this!

Can’t You do some justice?!
I hate her. I hate what she puts on me. I hate that she’s happy.
God, I hate everything right now.

So much for a stable man. So much for being superhuman for five months.
Crumbled to pieces. Back to square one.

PS: for all you twirks who are always so judgmental when someone tells his/her story to you, well you can go to hell. The last thing they need is your arrogant judgment.