Wednesday, July 27, 2005 - 11:50 pm

Sheer Escapism: Total Denial

… The subject recognises on some feels, and so finds himself overcome by fatigue, boredom, and indifference, to conceal from him his fundamental helplessness in the face of a genuine problem which must be rectified. ~Michael Crichton
His remark came so unexpectedly that I was instantly taken aback.

“Huh?”

“I mean, something seems to be bothering you.” He explained.

“What makes you think so?”

“Instinct.”

The problem is, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me, even now. Heck, I was feeling totally fine – until that moment. Trust me, lapsing into a bout of depression isn’t enjoyable. The fact that his comment had such an effect on me proved beyond doubt that there is something wrong.

Is it because so many incidents have occurred – and mostly with undesired outcomes – that the subconscious mind has chosen to ignore them altogether? Is this the skill that I’ve picked up and perfected over the period of recuperation from those agonies – agonies inflicted by various incidents which I’d prefer to relegate to the misty realm of the memory? Did this stem from the natural reaction to protect oneself from further hurt?

I have never felt so helpless before. To me, all these years, life has been smooth sailing; no obstacles in the path. With sheer arrogance, I presumed that everything will be going fine till the end of the jouney. Everything has been fine.

But then, the wind does change its direction once in a while. And when that happens, it is hard to accept that you’re just another pawn on the board, subject to the whims of some unseen manipulator.

They say the higher you climb, the harder you fall. Of all, that moment of free fall feels the worse, for you have no idea when you will land. Throughout the whole ordeal, you can only fear for the worse, while wondering if you could survive the fall in the end.

In front of the others, I’ve always told myself to be tough and not to weep. However, things have changed in such a short period of time. Now, even when there is the privacy and the liberty to cry my heart out, the tears just somehow doesn’t show, however hurt is the heart beneath. If this is a way to handle emotions, I swear this it is the worst one I’ve ever come across because no matter how blasé you try to act, the problems would still have to be addressed at the end of the day.

However, how to handle the problems is yet another problem, especially when I can’t really identify them. Again, I’ve chosen to shun – at least for the time being.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005 - 7:00 pm

Cuddly Pussy

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?
I've been to London to look at the queen.
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under her chair.
~Nursery Rhyme
I like furry pets, cats and dogs especially. Like the stereotypical lot, I have always considered cats as gentle princesses blasé to the world outside and dogs as playful companions loyal to their owners.

But odd though it sounds, it never crossed my mind to own a pet. Rearing a cuddly cat or dog is undoubtedly a great idea but when it comes to feeding them or cleaning their poo… No way! Do you think I have nothing better to do? Unless you have a pet who doesn’t eat or pee or poo, then I might reconsider…

Of course, there is always an alternative, provided that you have a neighbour who rears a cat and is kind enough to let you play with her anytime you want. The neighbour pays for the cat food and the vet bills, takes care of the cleaning jobs while you on the other hand, get to spend time with the pet without enslaving yourself.

And I’m one of those privileged persons.

I have a Malay neighbour living opposite my house. Like most typical Malays (I guess it runs in the genes), they are fond of cats. A few years back, they managed to a female Persian and crossbred it with some lucky local cat. Then, about two months later, the kittens were delivered to the house by the stocks.

How many kittens exactly were there I could not remember. But I recall that a couple of them were given off to friends and relatives, leaving only two with them. The elder one is an orange tom cat, Ciku, and the youngest of the litter is a female kitten with gray patches, Kitty.

While Ciku is an active kitten who got along easily with strangers, Kitty was exactly the opposite. Shy as was her nature, she hid behind her mother when we tried to stroke her soft fur. Naturally, we bonded easily with Ciku.

Cats do not like to be confined in the house all the time. So, Ciku was allowed to roam outside the house whenever he felt like it. One day – perhaps Ciku was paying too much attention to another female cat on the opposite side than the ongoing traffic – he was killed while crossing the road. There goes the myth about cats having nine lives.

We thought Ciku’s death was going to be an irreplaceable loss. But little did we expect Kitty to outgrow from her shy nature and constantly wheedles for attention. Stroke her under the chin and she’ll purr in satisfaction. She earned our affection with little effort.

Ironically, Kitty doesn’t show much interest in other tom cats even though for a cat her age, you’d be expecting her to bring her boyfriend home to meet the parents. I guess her owner forsaw that and neutered her long ago.

Sometimes, I feel so sorry for those tom cats that tried to woo her. There was once a white cat who remembered wrongly Kitty’s house address (she gave her the wrong one purposely, perchance), came over to our house and “meowed” some love serenade in front of the door. Despite showing him to the right unit, he refused to leave, mistaking me as some over-protective parent who bars his daughter from meeting boys. Heck! I’m not Kitty’s owner in the first place!

However, that poor, confused cat is not Kitty’s only suitor. There are many more besides him. One of them, I believe, regularly pee in another neighbour’s flowerbox downstairs, warning off other potential suitors.

Some cats are not so fortunate, unluckily. There had been several occassions when Kitty did not hesitate to engage in a cat fight with those tom cats that tried to make harsh sexual advance. Let’s just say that they ended up quite disgracefully.

On the other hand, Kitty has her elegant side too. Most of all, she carries herself with a poise full of dignity, ever so sexy and always remaining alert to her surroundings, except when she’s just returned from her late night venture and drops into a deep slumber in the balcony. Yes, Garfield is not the only lazy cat.

People say that cats live somewhere between our world and the other world. They can just stare out of the window as if pondering on some deep philosophical problem. Nevertheless, they do not seem to have any concept of time; they idle their time from the past to the present, and from the present to the future.

Sigh, how fast the little one grows! It was as if yesterday when she first opened those adorable little eyes that melts the heart–the way all kittens do. Now, she has matured into an elegant princess but Kitty shall always remain as the cute kitten I first met.

Saturday, July 23, 2005 - 7:14 pm

Bolehland Boleh?

We have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to practise either. ~Mark Twain
Located directly above Lion City is a queer land with strange happenings. This place is none other than Bolehland, as we Bolehlanders fondly call it.

Of course, our country did not get this name without a reason. It owes its humble origin to M , our revered former Big Guy No. 1. You see, M’s prowess as a politician was greatly noted in the twenty-odd years with him at the helm. During his tenant, M led the nation into a whole new era, introducing ambitious schemes and visions. Unfurled 14 years ago, the “Bolehland Boleh” plan was set to modernise the nation. Needless to say, we Bolehlanders look forward to that day but whether the dream will realise is still an unknown.

If the progress of a nation is to be judged by the efficiency of its Government, be assured that M’s vision is not beyond our reach, because here in Bolehland, the Big Guys are a highly-efficient lot. Hey, we’re talking about a bunch of people who can propose a new idea, hatch the plans overnight and approve it the next morning before you can say “voilà!”. Never mind about the details. They can be ironed out later.

Here in Bolehland, politics is the Big Guys’ game and never dabble in it for no one knows exactly what happens behind the stage. But as a rule of thumb, the Smaller Big Guys should never even think of opposing the Bigger Guys because once Zeus up there finds out, stray thunderbolts shall shower upon the defiant. And when dark secrets come popping out of the pan like pop corns, chances of escaping are nil. These people are very well aware that there is no point insisting on their innocence because the Commoners don’t really know what happened exactly; the other Big Guys are mere nimbys who know better than to interfere. Not in my backyard, man!

Sometimes, the wind of politics can change directions more often than our monsoons. First, Big Guy No. 1 flicks his finger and his wish shall be the Smaller Big Guys’ command. Whatever it is, there will surely be no opposition. In fact, everybody cheers and nods in acquiescence. But when Big Guy No. 1 leaves the round table and passes the baton to his successor, everyone starts to have second thoughts. Then, they are talking about reverting to the former way. Such is the case with our teaching medium in schools.

Speaking of education, I can’t help mentioning the fact that our youngsters are growing smarter and smarter than the previous generations, thanks to our system of education. Never mind about those Dragonlanders learning tougher maths than we do in Bolehland. We believe letting our children learn more could only turn them dumber. Heck, the statistics speaks the truth! We are having more high-scorers each year.

The odd part is that each year there are top students who somehow couldn’t secure scholarships from the Government. Year after year, the same thing happens even though Mr. Big Nose gave his promise that such cases will not happen in the future. No, you don’t need a psychic to predict that. The press would then highlight such sensational topics and Big Guy No. 1 would descend from Olympus, demanding Mr. Big Nose to look into the matter. There will be lame excuses given by the Mr. Big Nose but the issue gets resolved nevertheless.

Here in Bolehland, the right to practise any religion is stated in the Constitution. But, when someone tries to unite people of different faiths, or discusses religious issues in coffee shops, or builds giant teapots which easily qualifies an entry in the Book of Records, he is called a deviant. Such teachings are considered occult practices and the Government starts to give pressure, while some openly denounce the leader. When some religious fanatics finally decided to burn down the teapot, the case did not gain much attention from the authorities than a terrorist attack.

I really hate to brag but we Bolehlanders are a sympathetic lot, ready to help out those in need. When disaster struck our neighbour countries last year, the public responded overwhelmingly, eager to become good samaritans to lend a helping hand. Some donated money, some donated food; some donated worn out undergarments, some donated unwanted belongings. You name it, we have it. So you see, when it comes to giving help to the needy, we are always there. Never mind about our country folks whom we promised to help. They can wait.

Recently, the Bolehland Boleh plan sparked new interest as Big Guy No. 1 reminded us that we have only fifteen years left to realise our dream. So, do you think we can achieve our goal? There is no doubt we can! Because we Bolehlanders believe that learning more doesn’t mean becoming better; because we Bolehlanders have strong faith in the infallible Big Guys; because we seriously think Hollywood movies are a negative influence to our youngsters. And on top of that, we pray to God regularly.

God bless Bolehland!

Wednesday, July 20, 2005 - 6:23 pm

ADD-ing to My Woes

Let us not consider mental illness an excusing condition. By treating offenders as responsible human beings, we offer them the chance, as I see it, to remain human. ~Thomas Szasz
As you may have found out, I have an inexplicable habit of diagnosing myself with strange disorders. If you recall, the latest one was the insanity (KSS) syndrome. But me going nuts? No way! That was as nonsensical as the Gobi Desert being swept by flood.

Dr Quack was proven to be wrong, then.

But, now, as if there isn’t enough frustration for his perennial headache, attention deficit disorder (ADD) is added to his list of woes.

I am not aware of when it started but of late, my attention span has become terribly short. A moment ago, I may be listening to you but a moment later, I’ll be drifting off in the sea of ether.

Take, for example, Babbling Bob who has the uncanny knack of constructing complex sentences. Imagine the following conversation in which he profusely recounts his swashbuckling weekend.

“Did I tell you that last Saturday, when I was hanging out with Groovy Gary – you know, the guy whom I introduced to you that other day when we met in the library – we bumped into Simon and his lass who looked too hot for a geek like him!”

You can safely bet that I paid no attention to anything after “Goofy Gary”. (See what I mean?) Instead, I would prefer Simple Simon’s version.

“Last Saturday, I went out for a date with my girlfriend. We met Bob. He was hanging out with Gary. He was so envious of my hot girlfriend. He called me a geek!”

Simple, precise and straight to the point, though it certainly will not earn Simon a distinction in his English essay. Nevertheless, that’s just the way I like; it doesn’t tax the mind.

But, such a mental handicap doesn’t affect much of one’s life – unless you have a “benzenophilic” Chemistry teacher who, unknowingly, manages to draw sixty benzene rings on the whiteboard during his one-hour lesson. Nope. Naturally, I was not the one who did the counting. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t following after the fifth ring.

I just ran a search on ADD in Encarta and found that this disorder is also known as “minimal brain dysfunction” or “minimal brain damage”. I don’t know about you but these disgraceful names sound as if I was involved in a head-on collision with a charging rhino... Which I must say I can’t quite recall when, where, or how it happened… I mean, how else can you get a brain damage?

A quick look at the characteristics of ADD patients quite confirms my fear.

“They may… make careless mistakes”. Bad. That’s a check. I am really careless in mathematics.

“… seem to daydream.” Uh oh, another one.

“… constantly touch things.” Yeah, I always play with my pen.

“…hyperactive.” Frankly, I have no particular interest in benzene rings and would easily fall asleep as some “benzenophilic” wacko starts indulging himself in drawing those kekulé structures on the whiteboard. As soon as he leaves, I would be jumping around, not because of joy, but just to awaken myself. Does it qualify as hyperactivity?

So, I guess that’s a positive… Sigh… Please bear with me and always remind me to take my daily dosage of Ritalin.

P/S: Hey, I missed out this one just now. “They may constantly arrive late for appointments.” Whoa! That makes me think of someone! Heh heh!

Thursday, July 07, 2005 - 3:24 pm

A Tempest in the Teapot

If someone is dancing on the TV and I want to make him deaf, I can do so immediately even if he was in London. ~Ayah Pin
A giant teapot in the middle of a plantation estate? Hmm… Sounds like a scene from Alice in Wonderland. (Wait till you meet Mad Hatter!)

Indeed, that was my reaction when I first read about the Sky Kingdom community. In fact, there are more bizarre structures – an umbrella which looks like a merry-go-round minus the horses, a vase to collect water from the aforementioned teapot (Who would drink from a vase, by the way?), telaga zam-zam (the legendary well that bears mystical powers), an assembly hall which resembles a palace of the Malacca Sultanate.

However, the introduction won’t be complete without mentioning the 65-year-old “Mad Hatter” who is being treated like a royalty.

But this guy is no ordinary oddball. Ayah Pin, as he is fondly called, is the cult leader of the Sky Kingdom community.

You see, since time immemorial, religion has bring us good as well as equal harm. Different creeds has brought to much discord between men. So, here’s where Ayah Pin comes in – he claims that his teachings could unite people everywhere regardless of their faith.

Well, if he is not seeking for world domination but bear good intentions instead, why not let him have a try?

The problem is, Mad Hatter’s pretend game got a little bit too far. When you start to make incredible claims of having super powers, people around you generally start to treat you with distrust. Hey, dude, we’re talking about a man who is able of “killing or maim someone by mere thought” and “can read people’s mind and has eyes everywhere”.

Hail Professor Xavier!

The plot gets more dramatic as it thickens; it unfolds as in the X-Men 2 movie. The government eventually took the first move in the attempt to eliminate the sect which is said to be spreading deviationist teachings of Islam. When police raided the commune in Jertih a few days back, instead of finding Mad Hatter sipping tea with Alice in the garden, he was no where to be found.

But in an interview with journalists, he claimed that he did not “elude” from police. In fact, he saw them coming but it was them who did not see him. I guess he knows some of David Copperfield’s disappearing acts!

Being an illiterate, Ayah Pin understands no other language aside Malay. But he is allegedly very knowledgeable and “knows more than Bush”. (Considering the general opinion about Bush’s intelectual level, it’s weird why a knowledgeable person like Ayah Pin would condescend by comparing himself with Bush.) Anyway, he is described as “omnipresent and omnipotent” by a follower, who deems Ayah Pin as the “God and creator of the world”.

Okay, so this guy has the power to hypnotise, at the very least.

Perhaps, one of these days, we should pay this magnificent man a visit. Meanwhile, care to have a giant cup of tea?