Saturday, December 05, 2009

my morning jacket

Lay low why don't ya now?
Lay back awhile and I'll show ya, I got the good that you want
no need to go and, hunt something else, it's right here with me, when you stay.
It's always good when I get to see that there's never more than what you're telling me when you
stay, home.

Lay low if the feel is right, (let the fetus rock) I got all that I want here in you tonight
and we'll pass out on the bedroom floor after goin' like this (full tilt) so long
when you stay.

Hold up, you showed me.
Oh what you told me, it's not what you want but what you need
it's not a head full of pills or amphetamines, when you stay.
It's always good when I get to see that there's never more than what you're telling me when you
stay, home

followed by 3 minutes of sheer guitar bliss.

yes, im feeling better.

Thursday, December 03, 2009

bad day

I don't usually blog about my daily life. Mostly because its boring even to my own skewered biased opinion. But when some close personal friends of the family use emotional blackmail.. its really puts one in a dilemma. Without going into specifics, they ask for a non possibility, which I have hinted so at certain points in time. But they refuse to take the hint and have pleaded for me to move heaven and earth. At the same time im guilt ridden to the fact that i am unable to deliver them from their current malaise and that they're really close friends of the family. The answer will most definitely be no, but its the implications and complications that have me turning gray. I hate to see adults cry. Especially when im part of the cause. This is besides the fact that there has been emotional blackmail as mentioned above, which really rubs me the wrong way.

My grandma, my one sole remaining grandparent, is in hospital. She was supposed to be discharged yesterday but has now dislocated her shoulder. The blame lies square on the fucking incompetent staff of Pantai Hospital. But they have denied this. Saying its an old injury. Bullshit, you dont get you fucking shoulder dislocated while lying on a hospital unless its by the fucking careless, useless, unqualified and unprofessional staff. They should not be allowed near patients and they should fucking resign for the safety of all the patients at the hospital. Don't try to tell me to calm down. You be there, beside your grandmother who's crying from the pain. Telling me things like she wishes she was dead and why it's so painful. You fucking be there and you fucking answer her, because i sure as hell cant you insensitive motherfuckers. At least even pretend to fucking care and take care of the old lady. Attend to her. Is it so fucking hard to administer some painkillers and find the fucking attending doctor? I don't give a fuck about the other patients. Is my grandmother not one as well? Is this the fucking service we get for paying your ridiculous fees? More so now since you fucking caused her latest injury thereby prolonging her stay. Pantai Hospital is fucking unbelievable and I have more than half a fucking mind to fucking sue. Bad enough you killed my grandfather when he was there you fucking assholes. Don't even get me started on the toll its taking on my auntie. You motherfuckers are one fucking piece of work. God help those who are coming to your fucking hospital with your incompetent staff. I did rather kill myself than get admitted to that charnel house that you call a hospital. Im not a religious man but I hope you get what's coming to you. That's how much i fucking hate you. You think the scene I caused that day was too much? You havent seen anything yet. Fuck you Pantai Hospital.

In addition to all of that, the overwhelming feeling of standing at the edge of an abyss of a bottomless well of lonliness is not helping my mental and emotional state to say the least. I try not to fall in, or to let the well overflow, but sometimes, especially like yesterday, it consumes me completely and it drowns me in a sea of melancholy. Sometimes I really do wonder if I will forever be alone...

Nothing the above is of my doing yet why is it that i feel on the verge of a mental breakdown Of loosing grip in a tempestuous sea? I feel like im a drowning man. My feet cant touch the floor and im flailing about as i inevitably go under the emotional tide.

God, I need some help, or at least the comfort of a warm bosom and a caring shoulder on which to rest my weary head on. Oh, thats right. God is a fucking asshole. Fucking Christian groups. Deliver your believer from their pains and ailments. Where the fuck was Jesus when my grandmother was crying in pain? Where the fuck werw all your miracles? How the fuck are we suppose to love you when we do everything that you ask of us but you abandon us in the time of our need? Fuck God and fuck religion. Fucking opiate of the delusional masses.

Please... just help me.. im just really hurting right now.

Monday, November 30, 2009


this is a response to

To AR, I passed, Subang Jaya

Having read your letter, I'm somewhat amused that you think we actually live in a system that works. Could you please tell that to the batch of students who aren't allowed to go to university due to a quota system EVEN THOUGH they've worked hard at their grades. Similarly, to say that Professional Exams in this country run on a fair system is a somewhat myopic view. It's all well and good to stand on the other side having passed the examination and judge those who you have seemed fit to deem lazy, or that they did not care about their studies or some other condescending remark that you care to pass. This is not taking away anything from your kind self. I'm sure you worked hard to achieve your passing grade and kudos. But don't you dare sit there and say that everyone else was just too stupid and lazy to pass their exams. Even you've said it, 9% passing rate is disgraceful. But to place the blame solely on the 91% of those who failed is irrational. I take great offense to your condescending tone. Just because you were one of the lucky few to escape the quota does not give you the right to be holier than the rest of us. Yes, I agree Professional Exams need to be tough to maintain standards, but a 9% passing rate is just ridiculous. The whys and wherefores of this I shall not delve into, but suffice to say, it is not a fair system. You need to get off your pedestal and realize this and stop criticizing those who have to go through the misfortune of repeating a professional exam through no fault of their own, other than being a victim of the system.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Memorable quotes 2

Me( Valentines Day 2005): Hey, wanna buy something for your Valentine?
Random Girl: Erm, I don't have a boyfriend.
Me: I can be your boyfriend
Random Girl: *laughs
Me: Everything on this table is for sale. EVERYTHING

Me: Yes, this bus goes through Ashton Road
Old white guy: Oh. Thank you. You speak very good english
Me: Thanks. So do you.
Old white guy: *Puzzled expression

Interviewer: Oh, your english name is also your chinese name! How clever!
Me: Thanks. My parent's thought so too.

Me: I'll have a..
Hooters Waitress: My face is up here sweetie
Me: I'll have a bud light!

Drunk white girl: So where are you staying? Do you have a place of your own?
Me: Oh, No I don't have a place of my own. I'm a tourist.
Drunk white girl: Oh cool! I'm a Pieces.
Me: *sniggers

Random girl: Hey Ju-lian. Are you on drugs
Me:... Do you want the politically correct answer or should I just say yes?
Random girl: *Puzzled expression

Random Internet Chat girl: You are understand?
Me: Nope. I'm Ju-Lian
Random Internet Chat girl has left chat

Jeremy: You don't have a hand towel in the toilet?
Me: No
Jeremy: That doesn't make sense. How do you dry your hands?
Me: I guess i just jazz hands it

Random Internet Chat Girl 2(RICG2): Hi there!
Me: Hello
RICG2: a/s/l/r?
Me: 17/m/kl/c. You?
RICG2: 17/f/seremban/c
Me: so what are you doing on so late?
RICG2: bored. looking for internet sex
RICG2: im wearing nothing but a yellow thong.
Me: You're a guy right?
RICG2 has left chat.

Me: Man, I miss having a girlfriend
Lesbian Roommate: Yeah, me too.
Me: *puzzled expression (Inner Voice) Aw come on! Seriously? Even here?

Me: Arvind! Heal me!
Arvind: I can't! Im out of mana!
Me: Your fucking mana's like your wallet! Always fucking empty!

Michelle: I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you
Me: Well it's a little too late for that now isn't it?

Acquaintance: Gi Gyn said you have stalker eyes
Me: The latest product from ZsaZsa's eye make up line

Acquaintance 2: Wow Ju-lian. your eyes are bloodshot. Didn't get enough sleep?
Me: Yes Captain Obvious
Acquaintance 2: Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today
Me: Im a morning person. Can't you tell?

Kevin: Man, what if we could get smart by fucking nerds? *humps imaginary nerd
Me: I'll bet they're saying "Oh Kev! You're harder than Intellectual Property!"
Shah: *uncontrollable laughter

Random guy at school: Hey Ju-Lian I've been hearing the guys talk about you. Can I just ask..are you really Jewish?

Grandma: So how does Ju's girlfriend look like?
Aunt: Well, she's kinda chubby.
Grandma: Well, it's not like Ju's thin. Fat people need love too you know?

Order Date: 26/11/09 Order time: 21:19

Phone No: XXXX XXXX Customer Name: Teh Juan

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Memorable quotes 1

Me:(circa 1994-1995): Mom, why didn't dad stay at home tonight?
Mom: Ju, he's not going to be staying here anymore.

Me (2002): Good Morning Ms Nathan.
Ms Nathan: Good Morning Ju-Lian. We're done with class yes?
Me: ...Yes
Ms Nathan: Alright, I'll see you next week. Have a good weekend
Me: You too Ms Nathan
Mohd. Faliq: Ju-lian, where's Ms Nathan? *peers out classroom window. Is she coming?
Me: She thought that class was over. I didn't feel the need to inform her otherwise.

Me(2001): I love you
Michelle: I love you too

Me (2001): Do you love me?
Michelle: I don't know
Me: ... What do you mean?
Michelle: There's someone else...

Me(2003) : Hey Yoke Leng, you managed to get the reload card right?
Yoke Leng: Yes. Thank you.
Me: Cool
Yoke Leng: Hey.. You know I have a boyfriend right?
Me: No.. But thanks for telling me.
Me(out of earshot): Fuck...

Me (2003 post first kiss): I love you
Michelle: I love you too.
Me: ..Was it supposed to be that wet?

Me (2003): I wish this could last forever
Michelle: Hmmm?
Me: Lying in bed with you in my arms
Michelle: Mmm

Michelle: Shut up and kiss me already
Me: Yes maam

Michelle(2004): I don't love you anymore. I still have feelings for them
Me: What do you mean?
Michelle: I'm still a lesbian.
Michelle: Can I come over and collect my stuff from your place?
Me: Take your shit and get the hell out of my life

Me(2005): Are you alright?
Gi Gyn: Yeah. Thanks for catching me
Me: It's alright
Gi Gyn: Did I step on your feet?
Me: Yeah
Gi Gyn: Ohmigod, I'm so sorry
Me: Don't worry about it

Me: I'm bored. You?
Gi Gyn: Very
Me: Want to have lunch later? Just you and me?
Gi Gyn: I would love to
Me: I'm thinking chicken rice
Gi Gyn: Me too
Me: Great minds think alike. Or should that be hungry stomach?

Me: Hey.
Gi Gyn: Hi
Me: How was the weekend?
Gi Gyn: Boring
Me: I can relate
Surin: Whoo.. Gi gyn and Ju-lian going out!
Gi Gyn: We're not going out.

Me: Are you pissed at me or something?
Gi Gyn: No
Me: Then why aren't you talking to me and ignoring me and shit?
Gi Gyn: You just need to relax alright?
Me: Sure...

Tupps: Give it up man. She's just a bitch
Me: I seem to be attracting that sort a lot lately.

Me(2006): Dad, I passed second year. All the subjects
Dad: That's good to hear son. Im proud of you.

Me (2006. Bristol): Hi. Wanna dance?
I dont remember your name: Sure!
Me(later): You dance really well.
Nameless: Thanks!
Me: Where are you from?
Nameless: Subang
Me: Cool. You want to get a drink? On me
Nameless: Sure!
Me(even later): do you have a boyfriend here in Bristol?
Nameless: Nope. Single.
Some guy: Hey baby! *hugs her from behind
Nameless: Hey
Me(end of the evening): So who was that guy?
Nameless:..It's complicated
Me: Uh huh...

Me( circa 22nd birthday; inebriated): Did you know Amzonian warriors cut of their left tit so that it wouldnt interfere with their bow string when they drew their bows?
Adam: I think you've had enough to drink Ju
Me: Quite possibly...

Drunk white girl: You're all Malaysian??
Me: Yeah
Drunkie: But you look like you're from China, and you look like you're from India
Me: Yeah, we're a multi racial country
Drunkie: Oh wow! Can you speak some Malaysian for me?
Me(to Shah and Kevin): Apa 'sal perempuan mabuk ni?

Me(now) : I need to get laid

Me: Does she speak english?
Owner of reputable establishment: No, she can speak Lao
Me: Right. And that's supposed to help me how?

Me: I think I can do radio
Tupps: Yeah? Do an improv announcement now
Me: And thats all for sports. In other news Lady Gaga may in fact be a man. So, are we supposed to address her as Sir Gaga now?

Hot neighbor: Oh what a cutie!
Me: Thanks! The dog's cute too right?
Hot neighbor: *awkward and slightly frightened laugh

Me: You guys think im just a sexual deviant is it?
Dre and Arvind: Er....
Me: You guys know me so well

Me: So, you got a boyfriend?
Hilda: Nope
Me(Inner voice): Alright...
Hilda: I have a fiancee
Me(Inner voice): Fuck...

Me: So i just did this compatibility test thing and it say me and yoke leng are 50% compatible
Arvind: Eh, so that means you can... and cannot lar
Me: .....ok Genius

Monday, November 16, 2009

Review for year ending 2009

December 08: Looking for job. Wanting independence and a chance to prove that the world is my oyster. Towards Christmas it seems like an exercise in futility. Melancholic at New Years Eve.

January: Still looking for a job. Turned down offers on dad's insistence and my own. At logger heads with the old man regarding career paths. A 23 year old law graduate who failed his bar exam, jobless and still depending on parental allowance.

February: Yoke Leng. Painful realization its not going to happen despite best intentions. Michelle, rekindled. Kissed. Start to a descent. Got a job at Project Malaysia. Research Assistant. Working with Malik Imtiaz and Michelle Gunaselan. Excited. Paternal Grandfather died. Tears.

March: Progress. Work and semi love life with Michelle. First pay check. Gave dad Rm300. First published article. Slumdog Millionaire. Fight with Michelle. Worst to come

April: Michelle is gone. For good. Not dead, don't misunderstand. Just emotionally. Works starts to get frustrating. Lots of false pontificates. Wrote second article. Unpublished.

May: Work continues to stall. Growing frustration. Wrote 3rd article. Not published. E-mails and calls. No reply. Feel an ever widening emotional gulf

June: Fuck work. Michael Jackson died. Felt a little bit sad. Hypocritical me and the world. Start to drink again. Not due to Michael Jackson's death. Wrote 4 and 5th article. Unpublished

July: Too boring to remember. Hate work for lack of work. Worrying about future employment. Smoking more than usual.

August: Independence day. Forgettable as usual. Contract extension to the end of the year. Will still be able to pay bills. Nice new LCD tv. Rediscovered martial arts.

September: 24th anniversary of my birth. Injured back. Drinking regularly. Attending martial arts class. Nice hobby from humdrum. Promise self to lose weight and quit drinking and smoking

October: Phuket trip. Best time of my life so far. See work as nothing but a passionless paycheck. Wrote 6th article. Still unpublished.

November: Wrote 7th article. Unpublished. Maternal Grandfather dies.

Today: 3 hours before final funeral rites and the burial proper. Two days of Taoist rituals. I can't shed tears but am still sad nonetheless. I think I only ever said 10 words to the man. I didnt speak Hakka. He didnt speak English. I lost both grandfather's in the space of 9 months. I am still single with no Michelle sans the drama like replacement in sight. Drinking more frequently than usual. Smoking more. Gained more weight instead of losing. Fear I am going down a self destructive road of no return. Hope everything turns out for the better next month and next year. Am highly doubtful.

It's been some year.

This is why I don't blog regularly.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


I remember there was this one time in college; I was sitting at the Registry waiting to register myself for my A-Levels exams. It was October. I remember being bored and looking around my surroundings. I remember the water feature and the turtles swimming under the man made pseudo waterfall. I remember looking up at the various banners of institutions of learning that were affiliated with my own college, fluttering, surprisingly, despite the fact that we were indoors, subterranean no less. I remember looking at the fine, fine specimens of the opposite sex, eagerly walking at a brisk pace to get to a class to enrich themselves with an education sponsored by their parents and/or dictated by the norms of a society that deem themselves fit to judge us, their peers.

There they were, sashaying this way and that, with their bright pink files filled with notes, colour coordinated outfits of varying scales of lookability and a subtle designer handbags and the latest in technological bits and ends comprising of what we now know as Ipods but were then called, simply, Portable mp3 music players, the latest(then) handphones with polyphonic ringtones and 1.2 megapixel cameras accompanied with handsfree sets completing their ensemble.

I have this tendency to look people in the eye, even though I don't want the viewee to know that I'm looking at them. Which I realize now after reading previous sentence, is very oxymoronic. It's a trait that has, and still does, haunt me to this day as being very stalker-ish, but I digress. With said stalker eyes I viewed these eager beavers(pun semi unintended) with what I thought were very appreciative eyes but were perceived as being very creepy and aforementioned stalker like and they thus quickened their steps to get away from your scribes field of vision. This continued for some time as I awaited with barely contained impatience for my number to mystically illuminate on the ticket counter number thingy to resolve my bureaucratic necessities with the Registry. As I watched the latest progeny of Eve sashay of my vision, I noticed something odd approaching my general direction.

It was what I presumed was a short female but there was something rather monstrous about her face. The first thought that crossed my mine was "Hey, it's only the middle of October. Isn't Halloween not for another 2 weeks? Some people are being a little bit over enthusiastic for some Western customs aren't they?" As the mask wearer got closer I started to realize that it wasn't a mask. It was her face.

Have you ever seen the Elephant man Joseph Merrick? Yeah. It was like that. On a slightly smaller scale. And a female. I couldn't stop starring. Something in the back of my mind told me not to. That it was just so fucking rude. That mom and dad brought me up better than that. I ignored it out of sheer curiosity. I wasn't repulsed but just intrigued, trying to study as much as I could of her face, so morbidly fascinating was the experience. Her face was bloated and I couldn't even see her eyes. Her left cheek was so distended that it looked like she was perpetually puffing. Her entire face was blue and black all over from what I've researched on Neurofibromatosis type 1 as due to severe bruising from muscle and nerve distention. I just stared and stared, mouth agape, even as she walked past me. When she was directly in front of me our eyes met, or more accurately the two little beads I could only assume were here eyes. And in that moment, I saw the pain and sorrow and humiliation that she had to endure from people like me who starred at her like some sort of monstrous sideshow oddity. All my shallow problems then seemed nothing compared what she had to face everyday.

In that moment, I realized I was such an asshole.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. It could have been one of the many skeletons that could have stayed in my closet. I don't feel any better confessing it. If anything this little anecdote has achieved is help spread the word about Neurofibromatosis type 1. Or it establishes that fact I'm, besides being homophobic, a real asshole when it comes to judging people on first impressions. I would like to think that what I take away from this is that, like the girl, I'm just human, and I have and will continue to make mistakes. Whichever way you chose to take it

I'm sorry Neurofibromatosis girl..

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

esoteric/random bites

I find it a little bit strange that your wardrobe is 85% sleeveless shirts, spaghetti straps and various other sleeveless apparel but when you see me you're always covering your sleeves. I also find it strange that you always seem to want to call a third party along when I ask you out when it's pretty obvious it's only your company that I prefer at said time and indeed, that was said intention of me asking you out in the first place. You could be shy I suppose, but I have ever been the perfect gentleman. Sadly, I guess the gut and the facial hair and the whole OhMyGodHeUsedToLikeMe and HeUsedToStareAtMeConstantly memories from the evergreen college years remain my legacy at a certain Higher Education Learning Programme Institute and continue to haunt me even in my post college years.

No, you may not sue me for being discriminatory against homosexuals. I merely stated my personal opinion that I disagree with their lifestyle. I did not in any way or form say that they shouldn't be homosexual, nor did I propagate any hate crimes against them. Sure, I may not understand them fully, and I draw upon personal experiences for having such personal opinions, but I do not hate them Hitler style. Neither would I frequent gay/lesbian clubs/events carrying hateful placards and chanting discriminatory slogans. I do not consider them less then human for I know that they are. I just don't agree with their lifestyle. Let that be the end of the matter

The cows go moo, and they can't get a permit because of their skins. They defile a sacred article of faith, spat out and photographed no less, and the only man who has the courage to say anything sits on the feather throne no longer. They say no, and they repress the press. They snatch the dead before they're even in the ground. They whip and cane those they feel deserve it, while the deserving get away with sin. You can join the club but you can never leave. Not even your spouse. Faith is like the rain from the heavens, man is like the earth. When they meet, only mud is the outcome.

You must know someone to get anywhere. Your merits, your education, your parent's and your own effort, they count for nothing now. Oh yeah, you can probably get some low-mid level job, but will you ever be the man on top? Not unless you know somebody. Hell, I knew somebody. You can call it contacts and networking. No one seems to think its all about the fact that its not what you know, its who you know.

"Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social wealth; an order that will guarantee to every human being free access to the earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according to individual desires, tastes, and inclinations"- Emma Goldman. You were wrong Emma. You forgot that we're humans first, individuals last.

If you worked at a job offering you 5000rm/month and then someone came along and offered you 10000rm/month, which would you choose?. If you worked at Progressive Ali's Fine Muslim Indian Cuisine Restaurant and someone came and offered you a job BAT for 3x what you're earning, which would you choose? Your school nurtured you and taught you to become the man you are, but would you then be obliged to work for them once you graduate? Think about that Fédération Internationale de Football Association before you decide to condescend and make an example out of certain English clubs. And to a certain French club in the city of Lens, that's football, its a business, not oh boo hoo mama, he stole my toy.

I'm guilty, green slippers. I suppose i should say sorry, but I dint think it will help. Yes, I will just relax.

I spend time with you and you call it smothering and clingy. I dint spend time with you and you say I'm not giving you enough attention. Hey, I'm not a mind reader. Pick a fucking stance and stick by it. You can't have your cake and fucking eat it too. This saying comes from the notion that one should share a cake because cake should be shared and not eaten alone. Therefore, it would be wrong to have the cake and eat the whole bloody thing and not share it, you greedy little fuck.

Yes it occurred to me that the post was made on 9/9/09. And that should have special significance why?Because it will never happen again? Big deal. A date's a date, just numbers to help the human mind make sense of time in motion. On the numerology stance, well, I can humbly state that I personally think its all bullshit and don't believe a single iota of it.The same with horoscopes. My life is not dictated by a couple of numbers or how the stars are aligned. It's by the choices I make, right or wrong, and how I live by them.

You're never happy unless you're unhappy. Which is why I think that we could have never worked out. Besides the whole difference of opinion on sexual orientation. You can't accept the fact that life has indeed given you a ladle of the gravy train and that life's must always be about the struggle, the shit. Look, it's not my fault you have an inferiority complex, or that life has been one pile after another of shit to you since your dad left, or the guy(s) you "loved" treated you like shit and broke your heart. You have to realize that Im not, nor have I ever been,that guy or like your dad(and I dont mean that in a Oedipus Complex way) and that you can't use that as an excuse and justification for hurting me and people like me. Yes, I may have faults, who doesn't, but the least you can do is have some common courtesy and overlook them, like how I did yours. And don't get it twisted. This has nothing to do with sexuality. This has to do with character and personality. Meh, what do I know? Im just some emo fuck.

Keep your hips squared. Hunch your back. Keep your chin in. Hands on your forehead. Keep your back foot up and bend the knees. Circle off. T.E.S. Balance. Conditioning. Crazy Monkey Defence Programme. Armbar. Those are the words that constantly permeate my mind currently

Monday, August 31, 2009

Homosexual Propoganda debunked/ Mom read the bottom of this article

So here we are again after a long exile from blogsphere. Not here to make apologies, for I feel I have none to make to the 5 of you reading this. I do not think it is my duty or obligation to burden and pontificate my personal world views to you, or bore you with tedious details of what I did, who I went out with and the contents of my bowels once it has been expunged from my body through my anus. You already have CNN and the E!channel for all that good stuff, sans bowel content(it does not make for good conversation unless you have constipation and said conversation takes place in the confines of the clinic with a doctor and maybe nosy attending nurse).

I do however have to pontificate on a personal world view that most of you have already called me out on and metaphorically tarred and feathered me and severed long standing ties with. Yes, I'm talking about homosexuals. I have, and will, never believe the main argument that the homosexual propaganda machine tries to enforce and uphold for its own political agenda that homosexuals are born the way they are and that there is an inherent gay gene which causes said homosexuality. No one is born that way. There is no gay gene. Any "research paper" that you have read doesn't know the first thing about genetics and the slightest hope that homosexuals can see as a self justifying mechanism in regards to these "researches" are pounced upon by the liberal homosexual propaganda machine.

And just before you start you attacks and blog/flame wars and "oh ju-lian you're so blinded and biased and write such hurtful things" comments because you think I'm just blowing smoke up your ass and propagating homosexual hate crimes(which I'm not you fucking overly sensitive prick/bitch) here's my proof.

Is there a gay gene?

Many laymen now believe that homosexuality is part of who a person really is ­ from the moment of conception.

The "genetic and unchangeable" theory has been actively promoted by gay activists and the popular media. Is homosexuality really an inborn and normal variant of human nature?

No. There is no evidence that shows that homosexuality is simply "genetic." And none of the research claims there is. Only the press and certain researchers do, when speaking in sound bites to the public.

How The Public Was Misled

In July of 1993, the prestigious research journal Science published a study by Dean Hamer which claims that there might be a gene for homosexuality. Research seemed to be on the verge of proving that homosexuality is innate, genetic and therefore unchangeablea normal variant of human nature.

Soon afterward, National Public Radio trumpeted those findings. Newsweek ran the cover story, "Gay Gene?" The Wall Street Journal announced, "Research Points Toward a Gay Gene...Normal Variation."

Of course, certain necessary qualifiers were added within those news stories. But only an expert knew what those qualifiers meant. The vast majority of readers were urged to believe that homosexuals had been proven to be "born that way."

In order to grasp what is really going on, one needs to understand some little known facts about behavioral genetics.

Gene Linkage Studies

Dean Hamer and his colleagues had performed a common type of behavioral genetics investigation called the "linkage study." Researchers identify a behavioral trait that runs in a family, and then:

a) look for a chromosomal variant in the genetic material of that family, and

b) determine whether that variant is more frequent in family members who share the particular trait.

To the layman, the "correlation" of a genetic structure with a behavioral trait means that trait "is genetic"-in other words, inherited.

In fact, it means absolutely nothing of the sort, and it should be emphasized that there is virtually no human trait without innumerable such correlations.

Scientists Know the Truth about "Gay Gene" Research

But before we consider the specifics, here is what serious scientists think about recent genetics-of-behavior research. From Science, 1994:

Time and time again, scientists have claimed that particular genes or chromosomal regions are associated with behavioral traits, only to withdraw their findings when they were not replicated. "Unfortunately," says Yale's [Dr. Joel] Gelernter, "it's hard to come up with many" findings linking specific genes to complex human behaviors that have been replicated. "...All were announced with great fanfare; all were greeted unskeptically in the popular press; all are now in disrepute."{1}

Homosexual Twin Studies

Two American activists recently published studies showing that if one of a pair of identical twins is homosexual, the other member of the pair will be, too, in just under 50% of the cases. On this basis, they claim that "homosexuality is genetic."

But two other genetic researchers--one heads one of the largest genetics departments in the country, the other is at Harvard--comment:

While the authors interpreted their findings as evidence for a genetic basis for homosexuality, we think that the data in fact provide strong evidence for the influence of the environment.{2}

The author of the lead article on genes and behavior in a special issue of Science speaks of the renewed scientific recognition of the importance of environment. He notes the growing understanding that:

... the interaction of genes and environment is much more complicated than the simple "violence genes" and intelligence genes" touted in the popular press.The same data that show the effects of genes, also point to the enormous influence of non genetic factors.{3}

More Modest Claims to the Scientific Community

Researchers' public statements to the press are often grand and far-reaching. But when answering the scientific community, they speak much more cautiously.

"Gay gene" researcher Dean Hamer was asked by Scientific American if homosexuality was rooted solely in biology. He replied:

"Absolutely not. From twin studies, we already know that half or more of the variability in sexual orientation is not inherited. Our studies try to pinpoint the genetic factors...not negate the psychosocial factors."{4}

But in qualifying their findings, researchers often use language that will surely evade general understanding making statements that will continue to be avoided by the popular press, such as:

...the question of the appropriate significance level to apply to a non Mendelian trait such as sexual orientation is problematic.{5}

Sounds too complex to bother translating? This is actually a very important statement. In layman's terms, this means:

It is not possible to know what the findings mean--if anything--since sexual orientation cannot possibly be inherited in the direct way eye color is.

Thus, to their fellow scientists, the researchers have been honestly acknowledging the limitations of their research. However, the media doesn't understand that message. Columnist Ann Landers, for example, tells her readers that "homosexuals are born, not made." The media offers partial truths because the scientific reality is simply too unexciting to make the evening news; too complex for mass consumption; and furthermore, not fully and accurately understood by reporters.

Accurate Reporting Will Never Come in "Sound Bites"

There are no "lite," soundbite versions of behavioral genetics that are not fundamentally in error in one way or another.

Nonetheless, if one grasps at least some of the basics, in simple form, it will be possible to see exactly why the current research into homosexuality means so little and will continue to mean little, even should the quality of the research methods improve so long as it remains driven by political, rather than scientific objectives.

Understanding the Theory

There are only two major principles that need to be carefully understood in order to see through the distortions of the recent research. They are as follows:

1. Heritable does not mean inherited.

2. Genetics research which is truly meaningful will identify, and then focus on, only traits that are directly inherited.

Almost every human characteristic is in significant measure heritable. But few human behavioral traits are directly inherited, in the manner of height, for example, or eye color. Inherited means "directly determined by genes," with little or no way of preventing or modifying the trait through a change in the environment.

How to "Prove" That Basketball-Players are Born that Way

Suppose you are motivated to demonstrate for political reasons--that there is a basketball gene that makes people grow up to be basketball players. You would use the same methods that have been used with homosexuality: (1) twin studies; (2) brain dissections; (3) gene "linkage" studies.

The basic idea in twin studies is to show that the more genetically similar two people are, the more likely it is that they will share the trait you are studying.

So you identify groups of twins in which at least one is a basketball player. You will probably find that if one identical twin is a basketball player, his twin brother is statistically more likely be one, too. You would need to create groups of different kinds of pairs to make further comparisons--one set of identical twin pairs, one set of nonidentical twin pairs, one set of sibling pairs, etc.

Using the "concordance rate" (the percentage of pairs in which both twins are basketball players, or both are not), you would calculate a "heritability" rate. The concordance rate would be quite high--just as in the concordance rate for homosexuality.

Then, you announce to the reporter from Sports Illustrated: "Our research demonstrates that basketball playing is strongly heritable." (And you would be right. It would be "heritable"--but not directly inherited. Few readers would be aware of the distinction, however.)

Soon after, the article appears. It says:

"...New research shows that basketball playing is probably inherited. Basketball players are apparently 'born that way!' A number of outside researchers examined the work and found it substantially accurate and well performed..."

But no one (other than the serious scientist) notices the media's inaccurate reporting.

What All Neuroscientists Know:
The Brain Changes with Use

Then you move on to conduct some brain research. As in the well-known LeVay brain study which measured parts of the hypothalamus, your colleagues perform a series of autopsies on the brains of some dead people who, they have reason to believe, were basketball players.

Next, they do the same with a group of dead non basketball players. Your colleagues report that, on average, "Certain parts of the brain long thought to be involved with basketball playing are much larger in the group of basketball players."

A few national newspapers pick up on the story and editorialize, "Clearly, basketball playing is not a choice. Not only does basketball playing run in families, but even these people's brains are different."

You, of course, as a scientist, are well aware that the brain changes with use...indeed quite dramatically. Those parts responsible for an activity get larger over time, and there are specific parts of the brain that are more utilized in basketball playing.

Now, as a scientist, you will not lie about this fact, if asked (since you will not be), but neither will you go out of your way to offer the truth. The truth, after all, would put an end to the worldwide media blitz accompanying the announcement of your findings.

Gene Linkage Studies:
"Associated With" Does Not Mean "Caused By"

Now, for the last phase, you find a small number of families of basketball players and compare them to some families of non players. You have a hunch that of the innumerable genes likely to be associated with basketball playing (those for height, athleticism, and quick reflexes, for example), some will be located on the x-chromosome.

You won't say these genes cause basketball playing because such a claim would be scientifically insupportable, but the public thinks "caused by" and "associated with" are synonymous.

After a few false starts, sure enough, you find what you are looking for: among the basketball-playing families, one particular cluster of genes is found more commonly.

With a Little Help from the Media

Now, it happens that you have some sympathizers at National People's Radio, and they were long ago quietly informed of your research. They want people to come around to certain beliefs, too. So, as soon as your work hits the press, they are on the air: "Researchers are hot on the trail of the Basketball Gene. In an article to be published tomorrow in Sports Science..."

Commentators pontificate about the enormous public-policy implications of this superb piece of science. Two weeks later, there it is again, on the cover of the major national newsweekly: "Basketball Gene?"

Now what is wrong with this scenario? It is simple: of course basketball playing is associated with certain genes; of course it is heritable. But it is those intermediate physiological traits-muscle strength, speed, agility, reflex speed, height, etc.-which are themselves directly inherited. Those are the traits that make it likely one will be able to, and will want to, play basketball.

In the case of homosexuality, the inherited traits that are more common among male homosexuals might include a greater than average tendency to anxiety, shyness, sensitivity, intelligence, and aesthetic abilities. But this is speculation. To date, researchers have not yet sought to identify these factors with scientific rigor.

What the majority of respected scientists now believe is that homosexuality is attributable to a combination of psychological, social, and biological factors.

From the American Psychological Association
"[M]any scientists share the view that sexual orientation is shaped for most people at an early age through complex interactions of biological, psychological and social factors."{6}

From "Gay Brain" Researcher Simon LeVay
"At this point, the most widely held opinion [on causation of homosexuality] is that multiple factors play a role."{7}

From Dennis McFadden, University of Texas neuroscientist:
"Any human behavior is going to be the result of complex intermingling of genetics and environment. It would be astonishing if it were not true for homosexuality."{8}

From Sociologist Steven Goldberg
"I know of no one in the field who argues that homosexuality can be explained without reference to environmental factors."{9}

As we have seen, there is no evidence that homosexuality is simply "genetic"--and none of the research itself claims there is.

Only the press and certain researchers do, when speaking in sound bites to the public.

Taken from the NARTH(National Association for the Research and Therapy of Homosexuals)

Now I KNOW you must be thinking, oh ju-lian, that taken from such an obviously biased NGO. You've taken it out of context and you're just being spiteful because Michelle hates you now. While you are entitled to whatever notions and opinions you may have, let it be known that I never ever hate for the sake of hating nor do I blindly follow what is being fed to me like the rest of you sheep.

Here's another study, from a NON NGO

The trumpets were left at home and the parades were canceled. The press releases and campaign signs were quietly forgotten. The news was big, but it did not contain what some had hoped for. On April 14, 2003, the International Human Genome Consortium announced the successful completion of the Human Genome Project—two years ahead of schedule. The press report read: “The human genome is complete and the Human Genome Project is over” (see “Human Genome Report...,” 2003, emp. added). Most of the major science journals reported on the progress in the field of genetics, but also speculated on how the information would now be used. The one piece of information that never materialized from the Human Genome Project was the identification of the so-called “gay gene.”

Homosexuality has been practiced for thousands of years. Simply put, homosexuality is defined as sexual relations between like genders (i.e., two males or two females). It was Sigmund Freud who first postulated that parental relationships with a child ultimately determine the youngster’s sexual orientation. But this “nurturing” aspect has effectively given way to the “nature” side of the equation. Can some behaviors (e.g., alcoholism, homosexuality, schizophrenia) be explained by genetics? Are these and other behaviors influenced by nature or by nurture? Are they inborn or learned? Some individuals believed that the answer would be found hiding amidst the chromosomes analyzed in the Human Genome Project.

The human X and Y chromosomes (the two “sex” chromosomes) have been completely sequenced. Thanks to work carried out by labs all across the globe, we know that the X chromosome contains 153 million base pairs, and harbors a total of 1168 genes (see NCBI, 2004). The National Center for Biotechnology Information reports that the Y chromosome—which is much smaller—contains “only” 50 million base pairs, and is estimated to contain a mere 251 genes. Educational institutions such as Baylor University, the Max Planck Institute, the Sanger Institute, Washington University in St. Louis, and others have spent countless hours and millions of research dollars analyzing these unique chromosomes. As the data began to pour in, they allowed scientists to construct gene maps—using actual sequences from the Human Genome Project. And yet, neither the map for the X nor the Y chromosome contains any “gay gene.”

you can read the rest of the legnthy discussion here

Now for the kicker. I did not say that you CAN'T be a homosexual. Its a CHOICE and hey, who am I to tell you any differently. I don't agree with your lifestlye choice and thats just my own PERSONAL OPINION and I will defend my right to it. But please do not come and pontificate to me that you're born the way you are. The articles above have proven that that is utter bullshit and written by experts in the field. And im pretty sure they dont have their own homophobic agenda. Dosent bode well for their PhD you see. If im wrong, please feel free to correct me. So yeah, take that liberal media and GLAAD and PLU and Katagender and associated homosexual propoganda machines.

Hope that tides you over for a few months

Congratulations on reaching the end of this article. You've just wasted about 10 minutes of your time which you could have used for more productive things like watching porn or feeding the hungry children of the world or saving the whales. But thank you all the same.

Mom, this is just a status update. Im fine, working, joining the gym, everyone here is fine, there arent any racial riots here, yet. Still smoking but cutting down in an effort to be fit for the gym and not look like a tired fat fool in the workout classes and yes, for my own personal health and well being. Plus please try and get me a LA Dodgers replica baseball (home) jersey with Ethier on the back if they win the World Series in October. No, I can't get it over here. L size should be fine. Hope you're fine too. Love you.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Keroncong Hujan/ My Yasmin Ahmad tribute

Mega mendung di angkasa
Hembusan bayu dingin terasa
gerimis berderai di merata
bagai mutiara

Rahmat dibawa bersama
Limpahannya meresap dijiwa
adakala bahgia dirasa
meskipun duka nestapa

Tika hujan turun
sayup mendayu lagu keroncong
merdu irama dialun

Hujan membasahi bumi
melahirkan keluhuran budi
mengeratkan paduan suci
kasih sayang abadi


Clouds overcast the sky
The gust of a cold breeze is felt
Drizzle drips everywhere
Like pearls

Blessings are brought together
It's gift overflows into the soul
Bliss is sometimes felt
In spite of the sadness of woes

When the rain falls
Faint rumbles(whispers) of a song
With Melodious rhymes bellowing

Rain wets the earth
Giving birth to noble deeds
Strengthening pure solidarity
An eternal love.

apologies if i've made any mistakes in the translations

Friday, August 14, 2009

Guess not

Nope. Still alive.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Last post(?)

so yeah.. i might be dying due to the H1N1. Watch this space for further developments. Or not, in which case im dead.

I guess some people finally got their wish huh?

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Book of the law/ Ouroboros

If you're still here after seeing all three videos, here's my opinion.

Do what thou wilt. I'm sure most of you live by that. But this Christian propaganda is not without its merits. At what point do we draw a line as to what is right and wrong? Hitler followed his heart and 6 million Jews and 2 million others died because one man wanted to do his own thing. From a personal view, for example, I find homosexual lifestyle distasteful and disagree with it, but I know many of you do not. I did my own thing by saying what I felt was right in my heart and I was condemned for it. So it is right then for you to do your own thing when other are also doing their own thing by telling you you cant do your own thing? If you say that you followed your heart, would it not also be correct to say that I followed mine as well? And by denying me my right to follow my own will, are you not being hypocritical? Is it fairer to say that you can do your own thing while what someone else does that offends you is not the right thing and that person shouldn't be doing it? On that, I believe that doing what thou wilt is utter bullshit. We live in a society that is extremely selfish and individualist. There is no altruism to allow for there to be anarchical communality. Nobody "does their own thing". That is why we have laws. Would it be more accurate to say that "I'm do as I will within the confines and parameters of the laws of the land"? Does that not go against the idea of doing as thou wilt? Listen to what Charles Manson said. Why then do you paint him a villain and a monster if you are all for "doing your own thing?"

Oh sure, you can tell me that you're not like Hitler, Charles Manson, Anton LeVay, Alister Crowley. They were all just psychos. Criminals. But they all did their own thing didn't they? I'm not arguing against free will. I'm arguing for the fact that most people who say that they want to and should be able to do their own thing are nothing but hypocrites. If I was a God fearing Christian, as it is stated in my MyKad, and if I was to say that lesbians are scum of the earth and sinners of the highest nature I'm sure that that would draw flak from almost every acquaintance that I know. Mind you, I'm saying IF. But then we come back to doing your own thing. Would not being a God fearing Christian and saying such derogatory and inflammatory statements be me doing my own thing? Why then should the above said hypothetical statements be considered wrong and derogatory and inflammatory? Its because we do in fact live in a society that hypocritically claims that it has free will but are just in denial of the fact that they want to be subjugated to laws as and when it suits their own individual advantage, i.e. laws that protect them from those who would follow their hearts by denying you what your hearts wants.Even then, the law is subject to men who do as they wilt and we all suffer because of it, as Iran and our own Malaysia can attest You see the vicious cycle developing here? Its a loop within a loop within a loop. At what point of the Ouroboros does the head meet the tail? The answer is that it does not, and we are all bound in this endless circle of right and wrong and the middle path that leads to nowhere. We are all hypocrites for believing that we are "good people"and that we can and shall do what we will.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Nuptial Congratulations/Death/A fat man's worldview

First off, I did like to congratulate Ms(or should that be Mrs. now?) Chompunatt Krenger on tying the knot with Mr Krenger. Your brother was kind enough to send some of the pictures and like I told him, you looked beautiful. Here's to having many many many years of marital bliss and happiness.

Death has not been kind. Not to the celebrities anyway. I mean, I realize that death is an everyday part of life. Just last week there was a funeral behind my house. And a dead dog that was repeated run over till it resembled something akin to tomato puree near my dad's house. And the 5 mosquitoes I just killed and impaled their heads upon little improvised pikes to scare away their kin before they take another bite from He who's Blood is Like a Nutmeg and Honey Donut with Chocolate Sprinklings , or in mosquitonese. EEeEEEEeeeeeeeeE. And the 50 ants I killed with Commercial insect spray. You get what I mean. Death happens. But only to us "normies". Its like every week there's a celebrity death. Ms. Fawcett, Mr Jackson, Ms Ahmad, Mr Robson, Mr Mays. The list goes on. And it was all in the space of one month. Methinks death has become bored of us normies and craves to be hispter death with above mentioned celebrities. Or maybe he's forming a football team, with Mr Bobby Robson as coach. Anyway, what Im trying to say is, death is stalking, paparazzi style, and its disconcerting. These people entertained us and will no longer now. Instead the guilty, the corrupt and the immoral are still as springy as a spring chicken and no doubt at this very moment making the world a lot more shittier for the rest of us normies. Disconcerting. Oh, and I suppose condolences to the family and acquaintances of the deceased mentioned above. You touched our lives briefly but you touched us nonetheless. Metaphorically.

So, I admit i read Michelle's blog off and on. And surprisingly, Im not angry or "emo" as she put it anymore. In fact Im happy that she's found some happiness and is getting on with her life rather well. I don't know if its sincerity or indifference. Or maybe a bit of both. I can't say. All i can say is that Im not angry anymore and our chapter has come to a close. She has been relegated(or elevated) to memory of which i sometimes recall and then smile and say, that is the past and promptly get distracted by a scantily glad girl sashaying her way across the street while I hum The Door's "hello I love you" in my head and stare, at which point said girl catches my stare and promptly walks away faster upon realizing that she received a stare from a potential contestant on The Biggest Loser Asia.

Speaking of which, I entertained the thought of entering said competition, mainly for the money, partly for the weight loss which will guarantee me a 110% increase in pussy getting. Pussy as in the derogatory term for a woman's vagina and not the Michael(the cat) kind. But upon sizing up( pun unintended) the competition, I felt that I would dismissed out of hand as someone who requires just a little bit more exercise to ensure hot tamale-esque physique. It also got me thinking that I should befriend some of the said competition to be used as a foil so that I would seem thinner in the group of the BMI challenged. Having established what a bastard I am to think of such a thought, I promptly wondered if my friends see me that way since they all aren't BMI challenged while I am bordering on said levels. I then despaired till i saw a girl in short shorts(or micro minies..whooo) and fishnets with a tube top(and looking good I might add) and all was well again. Yes, I seem to live or be at areas where hot people peruse and wander through, causing us normies to stare and have a sharp intake of breath and spontaneously burst into humming obscure dittys about hot girls. Or the playlist at zouk, whichever takes one's fancy first.

Great, now i can't get that door's song out of my head. Then again I just came back from a mamak which catered to the after clubbing hours crowd and I was humming the song for a good half an hour.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009 Paws Animal Welfare Society

Say hi to Michelle. No, I'm not being spiteful. It was just the first name that came to mind. I found her in my backyard 2 nights ago. Abandoned, cold and mewing for the end of the world. Having bought powdered milk( kittens can't take cows milk because they're lactose intolerant i.e. they'll die. Ignore the picture on the bottom left, it was taken pre googling of how/what to feed kittens) I promptly had a sleepless night due to her endless mewing and constant need to be fed through a syringe. After said feeding she attempted to explore her surroundings at which point I played traffic police and directed her away from electrical plugs and stairs while she ambled on tiny feeble paws. After tiring out from said explorations I tucked her in her towel/blanket and stroked her head and looked into her eyes until she feel asleep again. Repeat process 3 hours later while attempting to sleep before she mewed again.

I finally gave her away to PAWS. Why? Because everyone here hates cats and I don't feel responsible enough to take care of her. I don't know if I did the right thing or not. The receptionist/admin/volunteer told me Michelle was quite young and probably not vaccinated and will most probably catch something from the other unvaccinated cats in residence and die... Before quickly adding that they don't kill their animals unless they're terminally ill. And taking my Rm50 surrender fee. I didn't even say bye to her. While filing out the release forms a creepy old man/volunteer took her away, box and towel and all and I couldn't find her as I left the compound. If there was anything this animal planet episode thought me, it's that I'm an incompetent kitten care giver, and I'm definitely not responsible enough to own a kitten. And I'm missing her already.

If the 3-5 of you are reading this and feel that you want to give and/or are capable of giving Michelle a good home, please visit PAWS in Subang(near the old airport road) ASAP. She's about a couple of weeks old, black/gray and brown fur. Beautiful gray eyes. May or may not answer to the name of Michelle. There's a nominal adoption fee to pay but I'm sure Michelle would appreciate it very much. Closed on Wednesdays.

P.S i just read up that Michelle could potentially be Michael. Cat genitalia don't form till they're about 3 weeks old. I didn't see the twigs and berries so I assumed it was a female. But its supposed to be slit like and Michelle had a roundish looking genitalia thing. So... yeah. Goodbye Michael.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Fuzzy angry logic/ The fucking point/ Juice

So last night was fuzzy to say the least. So fuzzy I didn't realize I wrote last night's you-can-barely-call-it-a poem. Yes, I have the uncanny ability to craft barely passable poetry in the midst of a drunken haze. And the fact that I didn't fuck up on the spelling is also quite uncanny, seeing as my sober myself usually makes more spelling and grammar mistakes than someone suffering from dyslexia. It's a joke. If you cant take it ukfc oyu.

On that note, I'm sick and tired of being the calm one. It obviously doesn't get you anywhere in life and in some sick twisted and ironic way I can see why Michelle is happy the way she is. She just doesn't give a fuck about what everyone else thinks and she sleeps easier at night, alone or in the arms of her lover. And in some way, I think that should be applauded. Why the fuck should I be nice to you when its just so much fucking easier to fuck you over for my own benefit? Why should I give a fuck what you think when it's obvious that what I do think doesn't really matter to you in the first place anyway? We're brought up to think that we live in such an altruistic society. That we should fucking care for everyone and love thy neighbor and all that hippie propaganda bullshit. They lied to us. Society doesn't care about society. If they did there wouldn't be crime, there wouldn't be war, there wouldn't be cynicism and depression. But there it is. Outside your fucking temples, your churches, your mosques, your schools, your homes. Everyone has become a statistic, a target, an object to be ravished and destroyed for your own selfish pleasures and needs. No one's human. No one cares. You see a fucking road accident victim and you don't stop. You see a robbery in progress and you stare dumbly and helpless as your "fellow" man gets relieved of his possessions. Don't even fucking talk to me about sex. Society is just a big whore that fucks itself with a dildo. You just have to fucking go on the star's website and see that the most read stories are all about fucking rape and sex scandals and nude pictures being posted up by people who said victims thought they could fucking trust. They, as you all are, are fucking mistaken into thinking we're all fucking altruistic and "good" people. Money, might and carnal satisfactions have more say than love and peace. So why the fuck should we even fucking bother anymore? Why the fuck should I care about you?

Because I'm fucking better than you at being a human being.

You have to be Dante and travel through the Inferno to know that maybe, just maybe, there just might be something better to it than all of this. God knows I'm no fucking angel. I've fucked up big time in the past, and I know I will again sometime in the future. But the fact is, I wasn't and never will be, cruel like you. I've been there, and I don't like it. And I can't live like you. The above shows I've thought about it. Considered it. But I can't. I'm jaded but I'm not fucking blind to the fact that, despite everything above being true, there is some good left in this world. Its just that we've been mired in the shit for so long we can't see it so clearly anymore. I'm sick of looking at all the shit. Just for once, I did like to see something good. I pray that there is some good. Otherwise.. what is the fucking point..

Now, the emo shit out of the way, here's today's funny( or not) pic. It's all about the juice.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Angry Song

Fragile, fragile, fragile.
Your views and your stands.
Evermore were you nothing but guile.
Nevermore are you and me friends.

Lies, lies, lies
Your every promise and intimation
Our friendship at a demise
The hellish road paved with your cruel intention

Unrepentant, unrepentant, unrepentant
In your ways and in your actions
Our time together and the caring irrelevant
My dear, you have no fucking justifications

Anon, Anon, Anon
You move on
I will not mourn
While I sing this angry song

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Criterion/Non sequitur

Right of the bat I'm telling you this isn't going to be another 3000 wonder. Maybe about a 1000 er(or less, depending on long the creative juices can flow until I get bored and be distracted by something else, like porn). Some people have been asking me why I don't talk about "serious" stuff here anymore ( I know, I was as shocked as you are to find out I actually have more than just 3 readers). The answer is simple. I do that for a living now, so why should I do it here for free? Regardless, whatever I say here isn't really going to matter in the big picture. I'm not rich, famous, an intellectual and, most importantly, I'm not good looking enough. It astounds and assaults the mind sometimes to see that popularity, as intangible as it may be, is won because of the number of pictures and videos of yourself that you put up, rather than the substance and context of your opinions, if you have any at all. This has also led to the commercialization of popularity in blogsphere , i.e. ads that you'll only get if you get a certain number of hits a day. Again, as mentioned above, this is determined by how many glamour shots of yourself you can put up, rather than having some inkling of social commentary and intellectual discourse and its sad to see blogger event organizers select its panel based on the above mentioned criterion. I'm generalizing here of course. There are lots of good blogs to read out there and I gladly read and support such blogs because its actually intellectually stimulating if nothing else. But in regards to the rest of the lot, whose content consists of 75% glamour/party/camwhoring shots, 15% memes, 8% food/shopping mall shots and 2% one paragraph OMGIBOUGHTSHOES! entries of no substance and purpose other than to notify others of said financial ability(yours or others) to buy said shoes and/or other apparels (and being annoying about it), I shall not be a statistic on your statcounter nor shall I be following you on twitter anytime soon.

Continuing ju-rants non sequitur traditions, here are my thoughts on Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Plot wise, it's your typical Hollywood coming of age romantic comedy tales. boy meets girl, girl meets boy, initial difficulties in reconciling glaring similarities/opposites, turning point where said reconciling occurs, a climax of confrontation which inevitably ends well for all except for antagonist(s). If you've seen coming of age movie i.e. American Pie, My Girl, Sixteen Candles, it will have a familiar feel and pace. What is interesting, and indeed, the film's saving grace, was the soundtrack. Obviously, with a title including the words infinite playlist, would you have expected anything else? It's a smorgasbord of "indie", ranging from The Dead 60's, Shout out Loud and Vampire Weekend to Band of Horses and We are Scientists. I can imagine the thoughts "Sell outs!" running through your head, but honestly, one needs to chill the fuck out and stop with the purist act. Indie musicians need money. They can't subsist on your adoration alone, regardless of the number of "bootlegs" and t-shirts that you buy. 'Nuff said. Cast wise, Michael Cera and Kat Dennings pull off admirable thespian efforts in emoting and conveying the awkwardness and nonchalance which are essential for films of this make. They successfully managed to create a believable and realistic on screen chemistry which ultimately managed to carry the film, though it must be said that Michael Cera is in danger of being typed cast as the awkward unassuming pseudo nerd which marked his breakouts in Superbad and Juno. Further, the viewing of the preview for Year One which Mr Cera is set to star beside Jack "I'm annoying" Black does nothing to dispel this typecast and only proceeds to further exacerbated it. The supporting cast did a good job of doing what they were supposed to do well, which was to basically support the eponymous protagonists. The comic relief that is Ari Graynor's character was especially well played, even though at times predictable. Mention must also be made for the non stereotypical way in which gays are portrayed(except for the church scene, which reeked of lip service). Overall, though a tried and tested formula was used, the application of indie music and reference to it which were used liberally throughout the whole movie, the use of night life in New York City as an urban setting and an all around good effort from the cast and crew make it a well received feel good movie and delivers just that. I feel good.

Well, that was my attempt at doing a movie review. I'm no Roger Ebert obviously but I felt I stuck well within the parameters of doing a review from a technical standpoint and didn't give too much of the plot away. In essence, it really is one of the coolest jobs out there(next to island get away caretaker) and a great party ice breaker. "What do you do for a living?". "I watch movies and tell people if it sucks or not". The only job stress one would be facing would be reaching deadlines and having to endure crap like Twilight( Winning the most awards in the MTV movie awards doesn't really account for much taste and only represents the tween to 21 age demographic. Plus they keep playing the fucking Jonas Brothers over and over. I mean come fucking on! The MTV generation is dead. Long live Post Consumerism)

Batman, or rather, Bruce Wayne, is also dead. Long live Batman. Dick move by DC as usual, pun unintended(for those out of the loop, Dick Grayson, Nightwing/first Robin, is currently the new batman). But like Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) and the Flash(Barry Allen) I'm sure they will bring him back again after the predictable fan backlash after 15-20 years. It makes the novelty of comic book death exactly that, an inconsequential novelty which has been proven time and time again to bring no value to the comic and does nothing but incur fan outrage and reduced sales. Then again, I suppose DC and Marvel and the rest do reserve the right to publish material which may not always appease everybody.

Right. Thats all for now. As you can see, very intellectually stimulating stuff this discourse on movies and comics.

Pictures? Ok, why not?

Apologies for the text differential. Blogger is, as usual, fucking up.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

L' Historie des Julian et Michelle

Are you not entertained? By which I'm referring to the "blog war" of comments in the entry below. It missed the all time record of 15 by just 3 comments. As you, my dear astute and observant reader can read for yourself, me and Michelle are officially, as the Germans would say, Kaput.

So I know in post entitled 100 that I wouldn't be falling back on dwelling on the past. I have, obviously, not adhered to my own resolutions. In fact, it was said post and my impassioned(read;I did not think it through when I wrote it) writing that lead to the dissolution of our friendship. I would be lying if I said I did not feel a tug at my heart when it happened, but that's the bed of thorns I chose to lie on. Words have been said which I can never take back and I just have to accept fate as it is. Having said that, I will try, in an effort to get over said former 3 time apple of my eye, to retell our entire 8 year history. Bear and humor me in doing so. Its just my way of getting over it.

We met in Form 4, which would put a starting date to this roller coaster relationship in the year 2001, on that miraculous thing called IRC. I was on a Final Fantasy kick then and (disturbingly) attracted to the fictional character Rinoa. No prizes for guessing who had said nickname. So after the initial chatting, we graduated to another platform of internet chatting, that is to say, ICQ. Yes, that wonderful programme that goes "uh oh" when ever you receive an incoming message not too dissimilar from MSN's ring/tone/beep hybrid of today,and to the eventual evolution to the Phone. Yes, that's how it works in the cyber world. Moving from visual(reading) to audio(voice) was considered a step up back in the day. Keep in mind that the Ipod had not yet been invented and what would pass off as a USB thumbdrive with headphones with 256 mb space that could play 16 songs today was considered the height of technology then. The seeds of our chemistry had been sown there. To say that I fell in love(hard) would be an understatement and disservice to the emotions I felt then. I mean, spending 8 hours on the phone and not even realizing it(till the parents got the bill that is), 60rm on a dozen roses for valentines for someone I haven't even seen before...I couldn't be happier. What we said and did over the phone of course is something between myself and her and I would like to keep it that way. This went for about a couple of months or so, with me being blissfully in love. I was to find out later that I was also blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had been seeing someone else in the real world and when the news was received, it was not received well. I remember lots of sobbing, throwing of inanimate objects against other inanimate objects and a severe case of the asthma. I think at this juncture the seeds of my fragile emotional state were also planted, though I have a feeling this insidious rot started the day my parents divorced, but that's a story for another, more melancholic time.

So post sobbing and asthma attacks, I even spoke to her said real life lover. I said, the best man won(Yes, you read right. MAN) and he praised me for being humble and gracious in defeat(like that was going to help me in what way exactly?) in the pursuit of Michelle. And so I moved on. Or so I thought. This period is what I would like to term the Voon "the tyrant" Ping times. Again, the modus operandi here was (surprise surprise) the Irc and ICQ and phone method. In this regard, I must, for once, offer sincerest apologies to VP as, with the advantage of hindsight, she turned out to be nothing but a rebound. Now, why the tyrant title you ask? This is a snippet of how our usual conversations went.. ".. Where are you?!?!?! I'm with my dad. I told you I spend every Friday having dinner with him. Come home now!!! But I just started having dinner. If you don't come home now Im breaking up with you!!" As you can imagine, conditions were intolerable to say the least and the relationship lasting only 3 months. I was the one having dinner with my dad on Friday's by the way, just to clear up any doubt and confusion.

So post SPM and onto the college years, the best years of my so called life so far. I mean, talk about transition. No more uniforms, smoking(which I picked up during SPM anyway so no big deal), drinking, moustache and sideburns growing, independence of sorts from the strictures of school life... and them college girls. One of which happens to be Ms Cristine "I avoided you like a plague because my dick of a boyfriend hates you" Seow. Again, another tale for another time. Pre Ms Seow getting together with said dick of a boyfriend, I was making the moves on her. And i had supposed things were going well, you know, what with the dancing classes(YES, you read it right), the lunches and other assorted social activities, when Michelle shows up in my life again.

She played the Damsel in Distress. I played Sir Gallahad, the chinese version. Said distress required face to face meeting and in those 10 minutes, i guess you could say the old feelings came back.For both of us. We hooked up again. (or is this counted the first time since there was no secret lover i was not informed about, I hope, and this was in fact the first time I had seen her in the flesh). All thoughts of Ms Seow vanished in a split second and I only had Michelle on the brain. We went out on dates and did all the expected couple things, except kiss. No, we're both not Muslim or have some saliva transmitted disease. We just didn't do it for reasons I cant, till today, fathom. It was bliss again for me, for the better part of 5 months. Then, again for reasons I can't fathom or ever got an explanation for, things soured. We both hit a rut and it was mutually agreed that we both break up. Painful, yeah, but this was the only time we broke of relations in a cordial and amicable manner and was the least painful.

So there I was again, single , alone. Ms Seow, as you probably guessed, ended up with dick bf and as explained above, avoided me like the plague. I guess this was when i started doing 40 sticks a day and boozing every weekend. sometimes even drinking alone. The emotional fortitude was not at its all time high. Then 2003 came and it turned out to be the very best times of my life. Michelle turned up again, playing the damsel in distress(again). I was to discover that the cause of her distress was an ex lesbian partner and it involved financial matters (seeds being sown again here people) Being me, I again relented to helping her out and the scenes of the previous year played out again. I still loved her very much and she felt safe that she had me to fall back on. That someone genuinely cared for her. We got back together again(yes, again. that's 3 times). And we did it with a vengeance. 2003 turned out to be the year i got my first kiss and the year my virginity was lost. I was happy, and I believed we were happy. Until the I-completely-lost-my -mind- because- of- her- infidelity incident.

Again, thorough sheer blissful ignorance on my part and deceit on hers, Michelle was seeing a lesbian behind my back. And when she finally broke the news, I was distraught to say the least. I remember the loss of appetite, uncontrollable sobbing, and drinking to the point i don't even remember what happened post drinking. And that was the day before I lost my mind. Having been a perceived "happy" couple, she left a few of her mementos at my place and wanted to take them back personally. Fine, whatever, just take your shit and get the hell out of my life were the thoughts that were running through my mind. She arrived the next night, with the fucking girlfriend stealer in tow. I not so much as handed her her bag of belongings but threw them in her face. All the while, that fucking bitch(the stealer) was smiling at me, so fucking proud that she stole Michelle from a man. I lost it. I did a blood curling scream, broke the shoe rack, threw the keys into the driveway and smashed anything remotely smashable. I punched the wall till my skin broke, and then threw about 3 to 4 glasses which promptly broke. I then proceeded to take a baseball bat and smashed a lot of chairs. After that, I don't remember what happened. All I remember was sitting among a lot of debris with a baseball bat gripped loosely in my hands and blood dripping onto the floor. I'm pretty sure it was from my hand and not someone I murdered in my frenzied state.Hopefully..

Then i sobbed like a little bitch. I called my dad of all people and told him what had happened. I don't have a close relationship with my father, him having left the family physically and somewhat emotionally since i was 11. Calling him was the last thing I would have expected to do. But at that point and time, I was so thoroughly mind fucked that all I could do was call a family member, with their unreserved and unconditional love, and I chose my dad. And that's when he knew i was smoking. Simply because I told him I was, in that fucked up state of mind. He tried his level best to be a comforting father, and yeah, I did feel slightly better. But the week and a half after that passed by like a daze. Literally. I didn't know what was going on, hardly ate, and slept a lot. And I think this was where i started hating lesbians. I brooded on it for the better part of 2 years. And I let it fester willingly. I mean, could you blame me then and now? The physical and emotional scars are still there today. Every time i see that crack in the wall or the scar on my knuckles i could only think about that lesbian bitch. If she wasn't a woman i would have, quite honestly, killed her. It left me scarred, traumatised and its still a sensitive wound today, even if I do a good job of hiding it at times(speaking metaphorically here people. If the physical wound still hurt today I would be very worried from a medical and health point of view)

After that was the whole Gi Gyn incident which, suffice to say, in my fragile emotional state post girlfriend stealing lesbians bitch, didn't end well. In regards to Michelle, I would get the occasional call, to see if I'm alive or not, and how I'm doing. Time healed the wounds a little bit, and we started being civil again. It took a while to forgive her(and its still taking a while). But I think, now with this introspection, I I was blinded to the fact that I didn't apportion the blame enough to Michelle and laid it mostly against that other bitch. What can i say? I had a soft sport for my first love. And the chemistry remained. The feelings were always there I'll admit. But we both( or rather I) knew it was never ever going to be the same again. So we decided that we could remain friends. And for a time it was good.

She was by this time, a full blown lesbian. The thought of it rankled me at the time, and obviously still does to this day. But I hid it and tried to look past it, for the sake of our friendship which I held close to my heart. I had rather have her as a friend, then not at all. Being a friend of course, beholds one to a position of less importance than say, family or significant other. With this in mind we only contacted infrequently, her time being mostly devoted to whichever lesbian partner she was with at the time. I felt a pinch of jealousy, obviously, but was in no position to voice my opinions. We drifted apart physically and somewhat emotionally, but again the feelings were there and so was the chemistry if and when we talked or met up. In this time I saw the world a little bit. Literally. I was off in the UK and part of Europe( I don't care what you say, Italy and Amsterdam(airport terminal) counts as me being in more than one European country). I experienced new things and Michelle was temporarily not the centre of my world for once, though always an afterthought in the back of my mind. Having returned to Malaysia, I set about a seemingly pre set path of life doing things I didn't want to but did it anyway because I considered it right. Goes to show that my power's of deduction and reasoning are not up to par with Mr. Sherlock's.

Last year, during my failed attempt at the clp, I was once again in contact with Michelle. And things were at their usual . Friendly and platonic. With a smidgen of us revelling in the chemistry we shared and the undertones of desire for new experiences in old comforts on my part. And i felt the rekindling of past emotions and foolishly wanted us to work again. I subsequently left to the States to see my mother and I tried to keep in touch regularly. Again, she found another lesbian partner(that's like what? 7 already? I don't know, I didn't meticulously keep count, nor would I have wanted to) and i was relegated to friend only and I don't have time for you status. That and her work. Which didn't seem to deter her in finding said partner. Hey, another blow to my already fragile heart. Its like as if i set myself up to get fucked over by her at will. We exchanged words and temporarily lost our friendship then and there, with me in the States but diplomacy and a willingness to apologize for my brash(?) behaviour managed to redeem our relationship again. I didn't realize then that it was a foreshadowing of things to come.

Back from the States, we still kept in contact, albeit again infrequently. And I tried to keep it platonic. Key word here being "tried". Things between her and he partner inevitably soured, as the familiar pattern of her relationships always seem to dictate. And on Chinese new year this year, we met, as friends, and also as two lonely people with a shared past. We hung out as we usually did, and the more time we spent, the more our feelings got rekindled. The first and second social activity with her this year ended with a kiss. Why we both did it, I will never know, but it invariably led to a strengthening of feelings for one another. We went out, as something in between a friend and, something else. In fact, we went out more now than we ever did when we were supposedly in love. I don't think I've ever seen that many movies in such a short space of time. Well, comparatively to my usual cinema going habits anyway, which equaled once every 3 to 4 months. I made the first move foolishly after watching slumdog. I had delusions of grandeur that i was Jamal and she was Latika. It escaped my mind that she was in fact having a its-complicated-fling with someone else and for once I let my opinions and my heart wear itself on my sleeves. That is to say, I didn't like it and I let her know it. Like I said, delusions and denials.

Make no mistake. I foolishly thought we could make it work again. 4th time's the charm. Despite the fact that all my family and friends would disapprove in a plethora of frowns and tut tuts and numerous round table discussions(arguments) on my decision. I thought that love only mattered between two people and what was important was that i was, for once, happy, but it seemed to all sides, Michelle included, that my happiness doesn't mean jack shit. This was the backdrop against which my pursuit was set, and like all my other pursuits, I failed. Michelle perceived me to be clingy, spouting such casually barbed words as, "I don't have feelings for you (even if I kissed you)" and thus began the ignoring. Because, you know, the way the world works is that you run away from your problems without addressing it(problem =me). And, for the umpteenth time, I was hurt again, more by the suddenness of such ignoring rather than the substance behind it, which was in itself as flimsy as a guy on crutches. I knew that it wouldn't work for the 4th time, coming to the slow revelations that things would never be the same between us, that she was hated by my family(not without reason) and that she was overall still confused and, when in confusion, retreated to her comfort zone that is lesbianism.

It hurt that she would have used the copped out reason of me being too smart for her, or that I was being too clingy, when we only hung out on the weekends since we're both working. This, after all the time we spent together, was what broke the camels back and culminated in my "butches think they have dicks" commentary. It was used in the context of moving on, if only people would have read it properly, but I guess reading the metaphorical and contextual meaning of sentences is a lost art these days. And so 8 years of friendship got washed down the drain over, of all things, fucking semantics.

So that's it, our 8 year history compiled into 3000 words. It was more like 5000. But i decided to leave a few things out that will only remain between me and Michelle, as we promised each other a lifetime ago. So what was this entire exercise in futility for? Honestly, from the first words, I have no fucking idea. Perhaps as a chapter closing? Perhaps as therapy for a guy who;s clearly hurting but too proud to ask for help? One last good look at the rubble and ruins of the relationship I've spent blood sweat and dears building before leaving to build a new one and reinforce others? I don't know. I really don't. I don't know if we will ever speak again or if we see each other on the street randomly we will stop and say hi. I can't predict the future. Whatever may come, it's been a whole load of fun and a whole lot of grief as well. The time has come to say goodbye, whether for now, for good, forever, we can't say, but it's goodbye nonetheless. And thank you for the memories. All of them.

You're still here reader? Jesus. I didn't think anyone would want to get through all that. Thanks for reading. No comments are welcomed. Nor do I expect any.

Monday, June 01, 2009

Days of Days

So yesterday was supposedly World No Tobacco Day. I didn't realize that there was actually such a day but even if it was to my knowledge I would not have participated. I do not believe that my right to smoke should be infringed by self righteous save the world and whales hippie organizations or persons. Yes I know its killing me. Yes I know secondhand smoke is bad. Regardless of these facts I still enjoy smoking and I do not see the point in forcing me to stop. If I want to stop it will be of my own volition and I don't need to be guilt tripped into quitting. Jesus, its not like I go to every non-smoker and peddle and force my cancer sticks on them, nor do I intentionally stop every baby occupied perambulator(pram in layman's terms) and blow smoke into Douchebag junior's face. So take that hippie. *Takes a long drag from currently lit cigarette hanging nonchalantly on my lips.

Today also happens to be World Milk Day(I'm not kidding). Like Valentines day, I fail to see the point in there being an especial day where something everyday is celebrated on a specific day. I drink milk everyday, so why should today be so special? Methinks the likes of Dutch Lady and HL have gone down the dark and shadowy path of marketing akin to that of the Hallmark and Roses Int. Inc. in creating Valentines day. If you wanted it to be such a special day how about sponsoring a ship load of milk and milk products over to say, I don't know, Africa? Where infant morality rates are the highest in the world due to malnourishment, let alone milk? So yeah. Fuck you too corporate douchebags. Then again, if there is a more nobler purpose to all this, and you are, in fact, sending milk to countries that actually need it, instead of "celebrating" its nutritional properties.. then yeah, happy World Milk Day.

Speaking of freedom, I'm a firm believer of free speech. In that regard, Ms. Thong, you are allowed to say whatever it is you want to say on your blog about me. Similarly, I am allowed to have my own personal and humble opinions about you and the lesbian community. It is not, nor have I ever claimed it to be, the gospel truth and people can judge for themselves what or what not to believe based on their own powers of reasoning and rationale.Having said that, you're so full of yourself into thinking that it was alright to mistreat me and are now trying to justify it by labeling me as an emo fuck. Yes, I am in fact an emo fuck. And the fact that you couldn't deal with it doesn't justify the way you treated me. Two wrongs don't make a fucking right. Furthermore, when I say, "women who think they have dicks" it's pretty much obvious to everyone else I meant it metaphorically and/or symbolically. Obviously butches are comfortable trying to be "males" without the added appendages otherwise they might as well have gone for a fucking sex change. But you know, you're obviously free to interpret it in any way your little mind desires. Isn't freedom of speech wonderful boys and girls? There should be an International/World Freedom of speech day. Oh right. There already is one. Go Google it.

Oh, before I forget, Tweety died. Tweety is the name of the bird that yours truly helped back into the nest. Let's just say... Sylvester ate him.

So no cleavage references today. But then again it is World Milk day... so.... would it be politically incorrect to show a picture of cleavage and milk in its awesome togetherness?

Guess not.