A Wicked Mind

‘Papa, there are no more ‘men colours’, can I get this one instead?’, shouted a little specky and chubby boy no older than 10 years. I was in Popular Bookstore when I heard those words. I peered away from the magazine newsstand and over my left shoulder, seeing the little fella rushing towards his ‘papa’ with what it seems to be a pink diary in his hand.

‘My goodness’, I thought, ‘the boy don’t even know how to define ‘men’ yet (so do billions of others including me!)! What amazing parenting!’ I looked over my right shoulder and saw the man whom the boy calls his ‘papa’ - a man of checked shirt, all tucked in (into his underwear, perhaps), phone pouch drooping from his belt, his greasy hair combed to match those old-timer ‘Ah Piaus’, thick rimmed specs with even thicker glasses, blacks slacks and polished Bata leather sandals with ventilation holes that exposed his white socks.

‘Hnnh,’ he sneered as he snatched the pink notebook from the poor boy’s hand and said rather aloud, ‘only girls have diaries!’

‘Hnnh, typical manhood!’, I sneered.

Such behaviour summarises more than half the world’s human population’s impression towards colour (and maybe diaries, who knows!). Ever since we were born, we were somewhat thought to enhance our gender. Newborns don either blue or pink to advertise their sex. Toddlers play either trucks or barbies to reinforce their masculinity or femininity respectively. These, among other things, are what most parents do to prevent the prospects of an ‘unnatural’ product.

But how did this mentally started? Did the women, teenage girls, effeminate males, etc created the colour pink or did the males, studdy beef-cakes, fully bearded bike-mounting man of overflowing testosterone, etc imposed their own views of the colour? Why is pink always associated to women (my personal apologies to the Chinese people) and blue, to men?

Well, blame society (my favourite phrase - for human beings always find ways to avoid putting the blame on themselves lah). Somehow, pure old pink colour was picked from an odd 360,000 existing colours as a representation of women/female/effeminaty . A colour that seems to have a weak projection of the masculinity and any male found donning such colour are demonised for we live in a world where men are discouraged to hold women-like traits and women are encouraged to be hold men-like traits.

All in all, I don’t understand this whole shitty thing about colours and the representations we imposed on colours for I’m writing this wearing a pink top and typing over my girlfriend’s customised pink web windows. Fortunately, men who wear pink (like myself at the moment) now have a good excuse against effeminate remarks - that we are so secured with our sex and gender that a little bit of pink can’t fragment our masculinity. CHEH WAH! Then again, just look at ourselves, guys. Look at our naked bodies. And you will find that the pink areas on our males bodies cannot resist not having contact with those of the females.

Bloody dickheads, you are all suckers for pink!

Just a night ago, my house was, again, on the brink of getting flooded. The promises of reimbursement and relevant actions to solve matters
from the previous flood (27 February 2006) is still left unsatiated. Of
course, such irresponsibility by the local municipal council is,
unfortunately, often let off the hook by the "Malaysian complacence" and the lack
of societal civility, if not none. Even my parents tried to stop me from writing a
protest later to the MBSA, fearing that it could "jeopardize my
future". "Fine. The let the government jeopardize all our future!", I
said. Sigh.

If you didn’t know, I live in the flood-prone TTDI Jaya, Shah Alam… an area where its resident presumably live in fear and where many living outside of this area believe that the flooding problem HAS BEEN solved. Then again, one just needs gut feel to find out which of the two above statements is true.

Work is being done to the river nearby. Large boulders where stacked up along both the sides of the river, preventing further erosion and easing the flow of water for drainage. But it is sad though that one with minimal common sense can tell that the river has to deepened and widened in order to accommodate the volumes of water that will eventually cause the floods. It was done previously though. But it did not work. Why? Because the soil excavated from the deepening and widening works were left by the sides of the river and when rain comes, the soil goes…

Ha ha. How I wish I could turn this into a stand up. But the one thing remains, from fear, from gut feel and through observation, MBSA’s ability to foresee the events that will take place and the proper actions to prevent such events are clearly non-existent. Perhaps their foresight was thrown away along with their foreskin.

People find answers in many ways. Some find it perched on an altar all day. Some find it at the bottom of a beer bottle. Some find it by not doing anything at all. I found mine over dinner with my colleague today.

The question to the answer was what separate(s) the individual from the dividual?

For a start, the notion of the individual wasn’t prominent until a few centuries ago. Prior to its prominence, the word ‘individual’ was, of course, ‘dividual’, which explains that we are, some how or rather, the same. Then, with the spread of liberalism, individual freedom, human rights, Americanism, etc, the notion of individualism became so obvious and common that it would be senseless to think that ‘we are all the same’.

But what happened over dinner with my colleague tonight really opened up my thoughts on this ‘dividual theory’. "What is different is the sameness. And what is the same is the difference…", he said in between full gulps of liquid gold (Yes, beer is always involved in spur-of-the-moment brilliances throughout the history of mankind since man found beer).

Frankly speaking, in the first statement, the beer of was speaking and it was the second statement that I pondered upon… while my colleague starred at me, reliving his ‘brilliance’. It took me awhile for those words to actually sink in (because beer wasn’t involved). And what I got is this:

… that we all think we are different but the sameness which binds us all is our struggle and strive to be different from others.

This, in my opinion, is quite true. The interplay and intertwining of discourses sometimes do overlap, thus, leading towards theories of realism that our experiences in life is all but unlimited , by which I mean that it won’t go beyond those discourses we live in.

Geez, I feel like I’m back in Monash! But its great that my fingers are finally pressing the keyboard for a non-work related purpose. Yes, my friends, I’m working in an asylum I would like to call The Actors Studio. Visiting hours are from 10am to 6.30pm. You will find me in the padded room.

Due to the positive response to the last series of Chronicles from the Asylum, I’ve decided to continue writing… now that I have found new victim(s) in my new workplace. Muahahaha (very evil laugh)!

But first there are certain boundaries that THE ONE have to cross to trigger my typing frenzy.

Oh, what the hell, life is too short to wait for something to happen. Then again, all humans are born lazy, I’ll start tomorrow lah.

Like the myriad of Johorians now, I also have been through the torrid experience of being in a flood (I live in the flood prone area of Shah Alam) but never of such a magnitude that our Johorian friends are experiencing. Therefore, with my wicked thoughts, I have came up with some simple solutions as to how we can relax certain unnecessary practices to free up more ‘rela’ workers to help our Johorian friends. The list is as follows:

1) Reduce ascorts for V.I.Ps.

2) Anything else should be fine…

Nevertheless, the condition in Johor did manage to stop the ‘rempits‘.

GONE ARE THE
DAYS OF THE CLASSICAL PIRATE! No more black eye-patches, metal hooks, wooden
legs, beards, skull-and-bones flags and sails but the ship stays (for smuggling
purposes). The pirate today comes in the guise of a tanned Chinese with
egregiously-grotesquely-“chemically-abused” hair and are most probably seen wearing
an ill-matching fluorescent coloured T-shirt and three-quarter jeans. And this
bunch of ‘neo-pirates’ can say more than just ‘harrrrrrr’, like something along
the lines of…

“Ini movie ar,
best punya oh! Kalau boss tak suke tengok, lu kasi balik saya, saya kasi lu
baru punya”

Or

“Ni chut hei li dou
mm pei chut
gar! Zheng fu mm pei
gar! Yat hui chi chau yau hou dor yan cit man! (This movie is not allowed in
cinemas here! The Government prohibits it! Is starts with an orgy!)

Yup, movies and
music alike that used to grace the cinemas and the radio stations can now
belong to you for a fraction of the original price and sometimes, also a
fraction of its original quality. The Federal units try to eradicate these pirates
through campaigns but like every other Malaysian campaign there is no follow up
(like the “Tak Nak” campaign, its now more like “Ingat Lagi Tak?”).

However, there
are another bunch of pirates that are yet to enter the Federal units’ scanners.
But of course, these units won’t turn around and bite the hand that feeds them,
right?

Politicians of
today have a new look to them that is light-years apart from its original
concept. In the good old days, the post-feudal societies of Europe, from which
the British and our current bureaucratic format was adopted, citizens and not
politicians discuss over policies and actions as well as determining the
outcomes within their society. From this came the ever popular bureaucratic
format – democracy – that can be summed up by the famous words of Abraham
Lincoln:

Democracy is for the people, from
the people and by the people.

Today, we only
need to watch the Dewan Rakyat “Debates” on Wednesdays to know how far
politicians, not only those in our country, have digressed.

“ ‘Two night
stand! Two night stand!’, shouted one state MP to another!”,

I remembered my
friend telling me. That was the ‘hot topic’ then when a bunch of my
communication course friends returned from a college sponsored ‘field trip’ to
witness a Dewan Rakyat “Debate”. Although I don’t have a full account of what,
how or why the MP exchanged those words but even a kindergarten drop-out can
tell that it has nothing to do with politics. These “Debates”, occurring within
the honourable four walls of ascended seats of the Dewan Rakyat, are clearly
tarnished by indiscipline politicians, who pledged to ‘serve’ their people and
yet, has time for personal attacks on opposing MPs. With political power
blindly given to such politicians, our role as citizens in politics is null and
void. Thus, as “members of the public”, what is our purpose and power to earn
that membership.

“Debates”
exchanged, be it beneficial or at least, make sense, are usually shot down by
the opposing parties without stopping for a moment to consider how it will help our
society and country. It is hard to imagine how every bit of topic, argument, stand
and complaint meted out by a party can be shot down so easily by the opposing
party and vice-versa. Are the political parties really that useless nowadays? Maybe
a ‘test’, as Jurgen Habermans would puts it in his work of the Public Sphere, which
is to create a space where all parties that can set aside their opposing stance
and put the society within their perspective… for once.

The current
method is littered is a Western short-cut systemization of looking into things,
where voting and binaries play a huge part, and these methods never explain
anything.  That is why we always see a
bi-partition of political stances (e.g.: Yes or No war in Iraq? It is really that simple?). And it
doesn’t matter whether the ‘other’ stance is good, beneficial or positive, all
that matters is that one is the more popular or is adopted by the more popular
politician. So, does contemporary democracy translates to popular votes? Does a
popular vote even matter? Does voting even matter? How much do you know about
your politicians? 

Thus, it is safe
to say that the ‘once famous’ words of Abraham Lincoln today mean:

(Insert bureaucratic format of choice) is for politicians, from
politicians and by politicians. 

I have some
‘famous words’ of my own:

You know
what you get when you support pirated stuff.

Nevertheless, I
love our Election Day lar. It means
that our rotting roads will be refurbished.

Y, know that ‘emergency lane’ on the Federal. The one supposedly made to allow ‘emergency vehicles’ a clear passage to escape the Federal’s ‘temporary carparks’*? The one where if an ambulance passes through it, ‘non-emergency vehicles’ will start popping in and tailgate that ambulance like a school of hungry piranhas?

Sometimes I wonder what on earth is that lane made for? For us? For ‘emergency vehicles’? For ‘emergency vehicles’ drivers that blare their sirens when they get stuck in a traffic jam while heading for their lunch break? For the cops to rack up some ‘duit kopi’?

But here is one thing. It seems that the police dept. are in dire need for an imbursement because they have to resort to the ‘emergency lane’ to do their ‘duit kopi’ collecting. What’s the point of stopping and issuing summons to ‘non-emergency vehicles’ using the ‘emergency lane’ when that whole ‘operasi’ is clogging up the lane? Sigh. Malaysians. Malaysians.

*traffic jam

I’ve left the Asylum to return to my sweaty and soggy  but beloved country - the gastronomical heaven - Malaysia. (I don’t know why I type this considering none of my ‘non-local’ friends read this blog!)

The experiences I had and gained in the Asylum shall remain carved somewhere within my endless/limited network of mushy grey tunnels. I learned a lot from those I live with and those that I was always around with. While they helped me to understand them, they helped me to understand myself better. Apart from the fact that I have way too much time in my hands (I still see that my stay in Australia is like an extended holiday) and have troubles laying off the addiction of typing, I realized also that I’m not one of those people who sit around doing nothing while everything is happening  around them. I mean, there is so much to do but so little time. I wish I don’t need sleep and thus, not wasting (or, I can say , already wasted) 1/3 of my life.

Saying that, the time spent in Australia harvested a lot of ‘good’ but it is the ‘bad’ that made me who I am today. I always believe that the worst critricisms are those that are exchanged behind our backs or not told. I say this since the entries about the ‘bad’ in this blog topic far outweighs those that are ‘good’. Nevertheless, it is the ‘good’ - the people, the hospitality, the sunsets and sunrises, the envious rage I get when  Aussies display their love for ‘their’ country, the well-manner vehicle drivers, the beers and the barbees - that one misses the most.

Then again, this extended holiday put more questions in my head to compliment those that I’ve already been asking myself - Are people with less social exposure more self-ish (not altruistic enough?)?  Are my thoughts clearly subjective or are they, to an extent, commonly shared by others? Is it ethical to use the World Wide Web in this way or making derogatory remarks on others ‘ethical’ at all, for that matter?

In any case, what I came to realize in the Asylum is that, we, humans, as social creatures need a certain level of social exposure and understanding because is it the social side of us that is constantly judged by the subjectivity of our society and lacking there of will lead to social consequences. But who gives two-shits about such statements anyway since meaning is constantly redefined or mutated within our subjectivity. No matter what this blog have or have yet to cause or affect certain
individuals, I know I’m ready to face the music, be it mellow or metal.
*gulp*

THE END.

(Next entry - pirated VCDs, DVDs and politicians)

The One = trouble, noise and so on

This One = un-social, inhygenic and so on

Sorry for the confusion!

Coming up with entries about the Asylum has been quite a challenge since I chose to respect the privacy of my flatmates over of our friendship. Then again, is this a way to jeopardise our friendship or is it a way to channel thoughts freely when there is no other way (or hints) of getting through to them, thus, doing what a friend should do in respect for the other person’s wellbeing and future.Then, again, such comments are subjective or unacceptable to many.

But in this second last entry, I would like to reiterate what I have said time and time again, that selfish people only bother or affect those that are around them but not themselves.

Just 1 and a half days before our flat’s party, the last of my new flatmates from mid-semester, This One, moved out. I still don’t know much about This One since This One has been quiet for most of the semester (so quiet that one of our flatmate’s friend’s presence is felt more than This One’s!). But I can tell you that This One can’t move out without the help of this one’s relative’s help! I can also tell that 2 days prior to This One’s departure, almost no packing was done on This One’s part!

So, all the packing between This One and This One’s relative was good until they realized that they had too much stuff with them. Then, they sought help from one of my friend, who planned to leave her stuff in her room for the semester holidays (because Monash charges if we don’t vacate our rooms completely even though we are returning!). And why did they had too much on them? Well… I can tell you that it’s because The One left some stuff for This One. Its funny though, since The One paid one of my friends to move The One’s stuff to The One’s friend’s place, why can’t The One think of moving the stuff, which The One left for This One, to The One’s friend’s place altogether? Hmmm. But, I kind of feel for The One thought… since everything was done in the last minute.

So, I would like to reiterate what I stressed in my 2nd paragraph… nevermind, you know the story. This One didn’t really affect anyone in the flat, although This One of atrociously inhygenic or un-social, but, This One did not evade, bother or take up anything that each flatmate have equal rights to. I hope such entries will guide The One to think of other’s more. And I know The One has been reading this… since I got deleted from The One’s friendster list…