Sunday, 29 March 2009

Earth Hour was fun!

Those are my mom's feet.

Actually, I lie.

The skeptic in me is strong with this one. I mean, this has got to be the PR stunt of the year. You have celebrities preaching to us the gospel of Save the World! yet these are the same people with a dozen air-conditioning units, all switched on at the same time.

Here's a great idea: why not have Earth Day? You know, switch off everything. Or at the very least, all your PCs, TVs, brain, whatevers. Let's see if all the celebs would want to do this. (Maybe Leo DiCaprio and Al Gore would love the idea. Never say never.) I exaggerate but c'mon, 1 hour, once a year to tackle a problem that's going to take years to turn around? The symbolism is nice but it will hardly make a difference.

My family was one of the very few in the neighbourhood that actually turned all the lights off, lit candles, tried our luck and not trip over anything. Besides, only two other households were the same as us. That makes it a grand total of three out of nearly two dozen. The rest went about like just any other day. Who can blame them for their ignorance? Humanity has been on the cloud of lethargy that when something so significant, something that literally change their lives utterly, it whooshes by them like a morning zephyr. Kids are still throwing garbage on the roads, old men are still spitting on sidewalks, people are still smoking in non-smoking areas, the piles and piles of rubbish is rising higher than mountains, the list of how we are damaging, nay, destroying the world is terrifyingly big.

How can an hour hope to bring an awakening to people who don't even know their little actions are the ones that is slowly but surely snuffing the life of Earth? The ignoramuses can be pardoned to a certain extent, but it is those who don't give a damn, the ones that really don't care and won't do jack shit, now, they are the ones who are causing the most harm.

My hat (if I had, it would be a fedora in black with red trimmings) goes out to the people who give it their all to trying to make this world a better place. These are the real heroes, not celebrities or politicians who more often than not pretend to care.

I can only hope upon hope that people will one day wake up and realise how fucked this planet is and that they'll try to make a difference. I really do.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: What did you do during that one hour?

Saturday, 21 March 2009

"Organic" is a dirty word.

Before I go on, I have to profess:

I love organic stuff.

I love organic raisins, organic tomatoes, organic avocados, organic noodles and so forth. I like 'em all. Heck, if you told me these odd-looking shrimp you're handing me is organic and free-range and these same shrimp were able to swim around an organic-certified pond, I'd devour them without a moment's hesitation. Pass me the salt, though.

The sudden influx of all things organic in Malaysia didn't happen overnight. It's been a long time coming. Previously, the only organically-grown things we could get was herbs in a small flower pot. There are now small shops specialising in organic food springing up everywhere; every mega shopping centre has now at least one dedicated shop. At the very least, there'll be a small section in the supermarket. And people don't seem to mind that the cabbage they could get at the wet market is but a tenth of the price they just paid at the organic shop. Prices have gone down significantly, but 8 types of grain bread with Mongolian rye at RM10 a pop?

People who exclusively consume organic products are simply put, wankers. They're like vegetarians, only much worse. So much worse. Whereas a vegetarian will politely decline a serving of salad with dressing that contains the merest traces of garlic or GASP! onions, the organic wanker will furiously debate with you the virtues of free-range chickens, the taste of veggies free from pesticide, and why your salad tastes like dog poo. At this point, physical violence seems justifiable...

Growing up on Malaysian food means only one thing: it is the best in the world. It may not look pretty at times, (rojak comes to mind) but it sure as hell tastes divine. Can you imagine our staples such as roti canai, char kuey teow and nasi lemak all substitued with organic food? I can't and I won't.

You are what you eat and right now I want me a chicken sandwich. Organic, naturally.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Who's gonna do this? I'll turn of the TV, PC and whatnot but I'll leave the fan on. It's so friggin' hot!

Sunday, 15 March 2009

Please excuse me for a while, I need to mourn.

Despondency may be a fancy word but it fully encompasses what I'm feeling right now. Why?

Look no further than these here links:

Times Online

But due praise must be said when it is deserved. Liverpool, you were definitely the better team contrary to what The Gaffer might say.

However, winning battles don't win titles. You have to win the war.

I sound like am asinine fiction writer.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I want to eat salmon, damnit!

Sunday, 8 March 2009

I nearly killed two boys.

*this post was written last year and is only being published now after I forgot to publish it.

I had just gotten my car back from the nearby workshop after it had spent the day there for a check-up. I thanked the boy who delivered the car to my house, sent him back to the workshop and promptly went home. I can go for my evening jog! The day all of a sudden took on a new colour, from the blazing orange-yellow hue of the sun to the gloom, grey of rain clouds signalling that rain is eminent (it never happened). About 15 metres away from the junction to my house, I slapped on the indicator, to indicate the other road users that hey, I’m going to turn in here. Seeing that the opposite car was a good distance away from me, and knowing that behind there wasn’t any car or an old grandma with a pram, I pulled my steering wheel to the right.

Out of nowhere, I look up to see not one but two boys, both without helmets, centimetres away from me. The rider swerved his motorcycle just in the nick of time. If he had ridden a little faster, even a mere kilometre faster or so, both he and his friend would have ended up on the tarmac, their blood staining the ground red (though, the worst part would be that I would have to wash it off my car). Shocked I was at first, but the feeling was soon replaced with a sigh of relief and a rising anger. I managed to compose myself in time, gave them a look that said, “You two are very lucky,” otherwise my door would have rather fetching indentations bearing a striking resemblance to their faces and darn it I’ve got to go to the workshop again. They looked at me with a look that said,”What the hell,” flashed me a derisive smile and rode off.

Honestly, even though I was still shivering when I got down from the car and recounted the tale to my mom, my anger far surpassed all other initial feelings.

The newest trend for motorcyclists is the weave-in-between, whereby they would go right in the middle of the road and speed off. Not only is this extremely dangerous, the rider could fall down inexplicably, but for motorists on either of the side of the road, it could prove fatal. I’ve seen children as young as 10 riding motorcycles far bigger than their tiny bodies, their hands barely reaching the handles. And they always seem to travel in a group, sometimes as many as four children on a single motorcycle.

Where are the parents? Why are the parents not keeping an eye on their children? Of course, I’m being unfair by putting the blame squarely on the parents. It’s not their fault that their children are such fine examples of humanity.

Is it fair for us car drivers to be in constant vigilant mode whenever we drive? Like, duh. But is it fair for us to be mortally afraid whenever we’re behind the wheel, praying before embarking on a journey, hoping that the road won’t chuck us with a potentially heart-stopping situation involving, what else, motorcyclists?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Watchmen, while brilliantly brought to the big screen with some of the best-looking visuals I've seen in a long time, didn't really present its theme of peace at all costs as strongly as I hoped it would. I gave up on the book when I first read it, but I'll definitely revisit it some day.

Monday, 2 March 2009

I look like a misshapen egg.

February came and went like a thunderstorm decimating everything in its path.

Including my hair. I look like this here fella. If only I had the money to boot...

Last month was filled with one incident after another. It was one problem right after the other and while it may look trivial now--petty even--when those things happened it brought back painful memories. I put on a smiling face whenever I was in the office, but only a select few knew what was really going on. Even then they only knew the surface; the bottom was too deep for any of them.

If only that happened every month! (Every month when I work, that is!)

I could do without the drama, of course. I would love to go in work, do my job, get home, sleep and repeat the brutal cycle the next day. Without feeling like a complete wreck. What's the point of going to bed dreading what's to come?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: 2 in the bag, 3 more to go. Come on, Red Devils!