Knock Knock, Anybody Home?

Some time ago, I came across an interesting article about friends, relatives, backgrounds and cultures. Interestingly enough the Scots, except for Mary Queen of Scots and William Wallace (they both get killed for some other reasons), came in as the most unwelcomed list of people. They are notorious for sneaking into your house / apartment / hut unannounced and will expect you to treat them will all courtesies including a hot supper and some warm whiskies before hitting the sheets in your newly refurnished bedroom. An Englishman having suffered so much from the frequent ‘conveniences’ decided on one last measures, he torched his own house to stop these uninvited Scots once and for all. Coming in close at the second place is none other than the Jewish. You may have read why people of this race were shot, gassed or hung by the Nazi. What they hadn’t bothered were the details as to why such measures were singularly brought up just for the single race of Jews. According to unreliable researchers from the lesser known University of Frankfart, an unofficial archive suggested that the Jews were killed primarily for seeking refuge and overstaying in domiciles of their hosts. In this case, sadly, the hosts were the Nazi.

I am pretty sure there are also strings of stories from other unwelcome races in our daily life. Somehow some of us are extremely tolerant, giving excuses like…..well they haven't visited us since Neil Armstrong landed on the moon and when grandpa was still alive and kicking. Some are less fortunate and with their tolerance level up to their necks like…..say honey how’s that your good friend is always in the house whenever we decided on a sumptuous dinner??? I don’t wish to attribute such remarks as unsociable but rather the theory of relativity of institutional insane relatives/friends.

You may think the recent US presidential election is a tricky racial to resolve but not until you have experienced Mrs. Yin visit to her son’s apartment. Admittedly, there weren’t debates, US$150K costumes or even a slight suggestive wink. But since both events occurred around the same time, the two events are pretty much on a par in terms of complexity. You just can’t avoid seeing Obama or McCain on TV, and so is Mrs. Yin. They would be debating and she would be sweeping right in front of you, or constantly having something to wash in the washing machine.

This past two weeks marked the first ever short trip by my mother. Contrary to what many would thought as an intentional short trip (not my mother, she would want a stay equaling to $ per day, and $ meaning in terms of Vietnam dongs), it was duly interrupted by my brother’s carefully planned trip home. Yup, you got it, unfortunately the best planner since Christ, a trip planned 6 months ahead without even consulting any of us. Say…..would it be that difficult to say …….“hey, I am coming AGAIN and I am going to trouble you AGAIN”. Pretty unfortunate as my family spreads between Australia crossing Singapore and Malaysia to Hong Kong and with some left-overs in China, and the advents in high speed technology is not something some of us would indulge.

We don’t meet up with each other often although on some occasions we do, mostly at weddings and………. I am not going to say it out. Sadly this is the case. When we don’t meet up, we missed each other but when we do we are likely to end up quarrelling and arguing over trivial matters……mostly to do with $. Indeed, such is the trend of having a geographically spread families. I am not saying I am not fond of them nor would I say I am elated to have their presence. I can only say I can cope with relatives visits once in a blue moon…..perhaps on occasions when I am truly feeling blue and lonely. Such mode can only occur once per century to be more precise………or absence makes the heart grow fungus.

No, actually we got on really well. So well, we remained tolerant against each other’s shortcomings and welcoming any unwelcome unannounced trips, planned or unplanned. You see, by the time we are exposed to so many undignified experiences we realized that extreme portion of patience and tolerances remained vital to maintain family harmonies, or …….it may seemed the case.
Anyway, I am writing this blog for my dear older ‘blur’ brother (oh yes, your kind younger sister’s word, not mine!), with the hope that he will not visit her for a lengthy over-extended stay. Her son, according to her own judgment, is a late rusher when it comes to exam preparation. Anyway, he is probably just about to start organizing his first major milestone in his quest for education. Leaving him alone is probably a good idea! What do you think, Mr. Unplanned Planner?

Irony of Being Ironic

Every so often something weird happened for no apparent reason, which can be particularly annoying because it is likely to baffle your logical thinking. And the weird thing is these happening are usually associated with the doing of some peanut brains. To be resolutely fair, it merely reaffirms that the basics in the fundamental organizing principle of the world is irony. Yes, I am speaking about the US presidential election whereby you have an old man, with all his wisdom ironically chose a young but naive lady as his running mate. His irony is perhaps to average out the age of his team but not the wisdom. Who taught this guy the rights and wrongs? I wonder…… And then, would you believe it? We have a coloured young chap choosing a much older but uncoloured man. This time the irony is to balance out the colour but not the age, nor the wisdom. I can’t think of a better word to best describe this sort of ironies except only in America where complete jerks choose the wrong people for the wrong place and at the wrong time. This is a land where you vote the same jerk twice just to be doubly sure you made a mistake.

I also recalled, once upon a time in China many many years ago, where I would constantly wake up to the silent rhythm of music less exercise. Every morning of the week, groups of harmless looking people, comrades or even peasants would stand in deep concentration, arms raised above their heads practicing a form of exercise known as qigong. It involves controlled breathing and meditation. Literally millions of people around the world swear by it that it is good for the body even though all you did was to stand motionless for hours. Ironically, this is where you are able to achieve good health without running around and sweating profusely. Had you run and sweat, you are quite likely to end up taking a hefty breakfast of congee, noodles and some fried yau char kuai. And that really defeats the whole irony of exercise.

The other irony about this school of qigong is as fast as it comes; it became a subject of China’s fondness for demonising things it cannot control. Yes, Falungong was ban because the founder is from the US (again a bloody America) and China just wouldn't have it……..it just doesn't like anything controlled from another country. The irony is all good things in China must come to an end, an abrupt end if you are pedantic about the timing. And so…..the morning after, all the people, comrades or even peasants vanished. Some, I was told, from a totally unreliable sources, were send to the space programme since learning Falungong allows them the gift to control the level of oxygen intake to the body.

Strangely but truly one silly country in Asia is emulating the same feat on Yoga. What is so strange about people so bent on bending their limbs, articulating the joints and defying gravity? But some people in some quarters of some government agencies had this notion that this would be a bad thing. And, to be more ironic, they thought that the whole idea about yoga will somehow divert the religious belief if one keeps bending the unbendable part. I am not a Yoga expert but you can start bending any part of my body and limbs, toss them up and down, and still I won’t start tossing my head (left and right) and yell “aarche, dey yen na ne?” Nor would I hastily embraced Hinduism because of Yoga. That is not an irony, that is me being me and sound minded! And so are the many others who love bending themselves for no apparent reason. What do you have to ban them from bending??

Saying that, I did have the unpleasant experience of trying out Yoga in Hong Kong under a Mainland Chinese teacher (I suspect she practices Falungong and personally knew both McCain and Obama). But after trying some basic forms under a 38 degrees Celsius environment, I could see the irony of why more people prefer to run/jog/skip the marathon. It is, by far, relatively an easier task to run/jog. That one hour in the room doing the impossible bend/twist/curve is enough to make your body ached so much and so intense that the end of the world seemed like a really attractive idea.

So I was right. It really is an irony world we are living now. By the way, a jumbo cock barbecued, anyone?

Life, there’s really nothing quite like it.

As the whole world’s attention draws to the aftermath of the financial tsunami….now why do they coined such a buzzword??? A tsunami, as I know it, has only one wave, after which you are left to pick up the pieces. I don't think this appropriately describes what we are facing now. Afterall, it is said that US$7 trillion has been wiped off the account books in a matter of ….days, months, years? That figure, and I am not about to start counting, is a number 7 followed by 12 zeroes and no matter how you look at it, it looks grotesquely large. How’s that nobody actually found out until the zeroes get to 12? And then hastily pressed the panic button and screwed the entire world. Yes, people like you and me, for Christ sake!

I was in Singapore 2 weeks ago to attend a not-so-important meeting attended by a group of old-but-looking young dinosaurs. The organizer, quite aptly named, Russellaurus, started with a rather cruncher opening statements “we shouldn't rest on our laurels in the wake of this credit crunch”. Now I don't know about you lot but I have friends who have taken measures to go into 2 to 3 years of hibernation in the wake of this financial tsunami. They are resting on their laurels now and following the good old Cantonese saying “you shouldn't lose a factory for a sweet”. Anyway, Russellaurus invited a lunch time speaker, hmmm by the name of Swifty (I think…if not, Swift) from a firm named Callamander. And guess what, Swifty thinks he knows all about the finance market……..yeah in hindsight who doesn't?

In all fairness he cracked my shallow understanding of the world market. He came up with the theory that the money US$7 trillion never existed, it is on the books only. Get it? So why the whole world is worried stiff with G8, G20 or probably United Nations, urging its members to attend summits after summits. What’s the catch then? Well, as he explained it is a bubble, a make belief that the $ actually existed……..or so much of the investment sharks and ancient institutions are led to believe. The bubble burst and the sharks and banks ended up in debts……..and then that’s how the problem gets onto you. Those idiots from the US are greedier than anybody. They used up their monies, and your monies and the whole problem then spiraled around the globe faster than the internet!

Time and again, we tell ourselves that the bubble is going to burst; it is only a matter of time. That, as it happens, is my brother’s famous way of looking at things, when it gets artificially inflated or alarming. Incidentally, it makes perfect sense when you look at things, in hindsight! You know the saying “… as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns — the ones we don't know we don't know.” So many knows, known, unknown…..kind of makes you feel you wished you had known the knowns and unknowns, and more importantly don't get off-guards and left in the trails of unknowns.

And so, with the on-slaughter of the financial ‘tsunami’ not coming to a halt, myself like any ordinary blokes, gits, nerds, jerks will suffer the same fate. I lost all my financial investment (it hasn't reached rock bottom yet but is pursuing along that direction) along with my stocks and other forms of investment which I should say didn't look as though it will ever recover. I am not sage when it comes to things that can twist and turn in a matter of hours, and hence I don't want to predict but I do want to leave something to amuse myself while the whole financial world goes berserk. “When anyone asks me how I can best describe my experience in nearly forty years at sea, I merely say, uneventful. Of course there have been winter gales and storms and fog and the like but, in all my experience, I have never been in an accident ... of any sort worth speaking about. I have seen but one vessel in distress in all my years at sea. I never saw a wreck and have never been wrecked nor was I ever in any predicament that threatened to end in disaster of any sort.” These were the words of Captain Edward John Smith in 1907, 5 years before he became captain of the RMS Titanic.

Yes..... life, there is really nothing quite like it!

Never Believe Anything Until It's been Officially Denied

Life is tough. You now have an entourage of people’s representatives on a hot trail to another rather-developed nation learning about agriculture! I don't know about you but it doesn't sound right to me to put a bunch of savvy but amateur agro-cum-shoppers on steep landscapes and endangering their lives within a seismic prone nation. Our reps, more likely to clad, in suits and shiny shoes are least likely to walk through the treacherous terrain, let alone learn anything remotely useful. Having said that, what do we expect them to learn knowing very well that the island of Taiwan has a different climate from that of ours. Call me a moron but I think this move is uncalled for and I don't see the necessity. To me, it calls for a particular combination of talents: lots of activity but no actual achievement. Then again, almost all government policy is wrong, but...frightfully well carried out.

Give any fool a minute to think he may come up with an answer to baffle our version of the fictitious character Jim Hacker…….yes, you Mr. Flippy-Floppy-don't-know-how, sir. Such is the satirical quality of the leadership. Instead of saying it wasn't his idea; he should have the guts to say something along the lines…. “We can’t get that in our country, apologies. We may have 1000 universities and have been experimenting with the technology to be able to offer these professional courses, but we’re not yet confident (because our ‘talents’ are not really talented) of being able to provide genuine value, so at the moment, it remains a must for our reps to participate in this study tour.”

Here is a man so resolved and relentless to quash anything remotely possible against his seat, and did it…..may I say stupidly. It worries me to think of the many juggling acts this man has to endure in order to sit where he is sitting at the moment. On one hand, he needs to tactfully appease one of his warlords which are more likely to induce calamity within the mixed population. This is the Law of Inverse Relevance, the less you intend doing about something the more you have to keep talking about it. Or in practical terms you have the usual six options. One do nothing, two issue a statement deploring the scene, three launch an official protest, four cut off ties, five break off relations and six declare emergency. On the other hand, we have another bloke who is silently playing the mind game tricks on almost everybody. Yes, the age old trick of “Yes, but even though they probably certainly know that you probably wouldn't, they don't certainly know that, although you probably wouldn't, there is no probability that you certainly would!” What is this country’s corridor of power getting into?

I hate to say this but the closely observed portrayal of what goes on in the corridors of power has given me hours of sheer pure joy. The whole saga of political ups and down is invented by people who think they run the country, and is read by people who think they ought to run the country but is being play-down by people who actually do run the country. Get it? I don't!!!

Happy Belated Birthday, Sam

There is a vile myth going around that anything small has its great value. Cameras are getting smaller by the day, computers are going lighter, mobile phone are so small that it is, and I am not joking, rumoured the latest generation of 3.55G is wafer thin and measures approximately 1.1005 nano metre. I am not sure if I am the only people who have this mentality but I think nano-scale technologies totally suck. Why are we paying more for something smaller and lower in material cost? I am not complaining I am merely being grumpy as I aged.

If things are made and manufactured in nano-scale, the accompanying manual is likely to be even smaller. The last time I read a manual for my bed-side alarm clock, it was like trying to ‘count’ the number of legs a millipede has (and I can assure you that no known millipedes have more than 400 legs). I gave up roughly 2 sentences below the welcome line. It is impossible to read at my age, no matter how hard I tried to focus.

Nano-scale technologies are probably a living nightmare to people of my generation. The generation of people who, may be forgiven, if they fervently abhor the word ‘old’ but, is old enough to experience presbyopia. I don’t recollect my father having problems reading when he was in his forties! Prints then were as big as a bullock-cart and nothing smaller was acceptable.

My worse ire is reserved for the publishers who notoriously print small fonts for the sake of saving one or two trees, or so they claimed! I would stretch the newspaper at arm’s length and still unable to read the smaller prints of my favorite advertisements. You know, the buy one get two followed by the subscript * gimmicks. What is printed under *, you will never get to find out unless you beg others to read for you. And then you naturally went into a total disappointment after learning you need to spend a fortune to qualify……. Or you may be seen behaving like a perfect jerk in the supermarket adjusting the product to enable enough reflection to read those small fonts. Chances then are, you will find longer words that are likely to be beyond your comprehension or you simply cannot pronounce them. In which case it would be immaterial whether you are able read or read but unable to understand them.

People suffering from presbyopia often experience similar symptoms. You can’t differentiate s, z or 2. The number 5, 6, or 8 looks the same no matter how hard you adjust it. As a frequent traveler, I have trouble filling embarkation form whenever I enter a country.
A I have to balance the little sheet of carbon paper on my passport and write with my pen which is likely to run out of ink without fail.
B You are likely to erroneously fill ‘date of birth’ and ‘country of birth’ wrongly.
C The space allocated is always narrower that the words you fill in (subconsciously you hand-writing gets bigger with the degree of presbyopia).
D You hand-writing looks as though you just ran the marathon.

Plus, when you are in the hotel, you can never ever read:
A The shampoo or the bath gel. I have learned from experience to rely on colour coding so that I won’t end up using shampoo as bath gel.
B The instructions on how to use the security safe.
C The master console to control the room’s utilities.

And finally, you will find yourself buying extra extra number of spectacles. You may start with one, and then slowly but surely multiply the numbers. And then, unknowingly one day you will realize you have one spectacle in your car, toilet, briefcase, living room, bedroom and a host of endless unimaginable places.

Happy Belated Birthday, Sam. I have a perfect birthday present for you this year. How about another pair of spectacle from the pasar pagi costing a mere 15 ringgit?

Kulai

I have often wondered how much a change in my life would be had I not stepped out of my little home town. Looking back, I was young and stupid (okay, as opposed to old and stupid now), eager to see what lies beyond the stretch of road after the police station. My world then, ends at the junction of the police station which is situated at the other end of the town. I remember myself as an incessant dreamer as would be the case of most teenagers of my generation (or, was I the only exception?) from the rural of the rural Malaysian hinterlands. To be fair to all my peers, our only hobby then was to idle on the branches of the tree and count the number of cars passing by. I am not sure if I am able to count the sheer number of cars passing by today on top of the same of tree. I say that because my eyesight is failing and I can no longer remember the counts after 100. But the worst of all, I am not so sure if I can ever climb that old tree. It certainly looks smaller with ailing branches that gives you an impression that it may snap even under the weight of two little eggs.

Whilst at home recently, I had the pleasure of renewing an old acquaintance. I asked him what his main pre-occupations were these days. He answered me in a matter of speech manner……counting cars and climbing trees. I looked at him dearly and desperately seeking for a word to continue the conversation. I couldn’t find the word. He said, “I am old now, I don’t have much obligations towards my grown children anymore”. “I climb trees because it is fruit seasons now, and since I ‘sapu’ the orchard, I need to make sure every single fruit is harvested”. “I count cars because my normal job is a caretaker for the second hand car dealer”. I felt a sense of relief descending down my throat, but not until I took a sip of the kopi when he asked what my present pre-occupations were. I am waiting for the arrival of SOMEONE, I said. He looked at me with the same glare and astonishment I had a minute ago but unlike me, he took a sip of the kopi before administering his soiled feet. He……..took a deep rub and then unassumingly sniffed in the very similar manner as if you were using a snuff bottle.

Folks don’t care about mannerism in small town. If you cared about life’s little habitual involuntary actions, then you are not in a small town. You don’t have to wear your Sunday’s best to enjoy your dim-sum or nasi lemak. A simple attire of a t-shirt and shorts with a pair of the old faithful slipper will do. You won’t be the odd one out, that much I am pretty certain. You don’t whisper when you are gossiping, you talk as loud as you can. That way you will invite potential mongers’ attention and make the topic juicier. I can’t be sure if that elite group includes my brother for he is always the last soul in town to digest the various intricacies of the commonest gossip. But I can be sure, if I am around, I would be the first person to chip-in with my finest kopitiam hypothesis. I can it the “finesse lingua and directus demonstrandum” hypothesis in between mouthful of kopi and dunks. Loosely translated it is something like, “can’t say you are right but I know the answer” or something of that order. Then again, and I am beginning to regret this now, the hypothesis wouldn’t be as convincing as it claims unless it is accompanied with a loud and prolonged fart. Subconsciously I have forgotten the involuntary action, having been away from the small town for a dang long time.

I can’t describe the mixed feeling of quaintness and tranquility whenever I step foot onto my little hometown. No matter how much the world may change, for better or worse, this hometown of mine is forever there. The people, their culture (okay, our culture) and the ever busy kopitiam bustles are still, I am glad to add, our way of life. I have come a long way since the day I was introduced to Federal Readers' craps on "Here is Osman. He lives in this house. This is his house".

The passage of time may have given me the various opportunities but you simply cannot find the people and the place that amply describes you. You are always a stranger in a forever strangers' land except for that small place you called 'home'.

Thou Shall Wait

Wherever I go these days, I can't help but to think of the many hours being wasted waiting. I never fully understood why we have to wait, sometimes through the hours of agony and sometimes through the physical tortures……. In recent weeks, we in Hong Kong, witnessed a few fine examples of waits, we have the maids waiting in the queue to renew the contract and to save their livelihood at a mere $400 levy charge. The government of Hong Kong made a blunder by announcing the lifting of the levy and in doing so caused havoc among the people and the maids. Then we had this massive queue for anything related to the Olympics…….ranging from new prints to first day covers. I am beginning to think if we ever have an Olympics event on queuing; Hong Kong will probably win the gold medal.

To wait is the most boring thing to do, I don’t mind wasting my time being a couch potato but to sit down under the hot sun is ……..an absolute NO…..period. Can you imagine a family, three tiers, all waiting under a tiny umbrella, doing the usual waiting, talking, and some even cooking! When they could have made better use of the time wasted with their usual waiting, talking and even some cooking at home. But then again, it is either people love to queue or afraid of being losing out. Imagine the fuss about inflation and artificially inflated market price these days, but people will not have a second thought about queuing and buying stuff which is of no immediate use to them. I wonder……..I really wonder why people can behave in this manner.

Well I can only say ‘WAITING’ spares no one. Yes, not you, not me. We are all the subject of ‘WAIT’. I waited endlessly at the airport lounges in my normal routine of flying around little cities like Phnom Penh, Saigon, Bangkok and the likes. I see people breezing past me, some at the speed of lightning (usually associated with couples with baggage of three teenage aged offspring); some at the usual snail speed (usually associated with couples who are on their first dates); and the rest fellow travelers, like us, who would sit spread eagle, doing nothing but scornfully sneering at each other to get past the long WAIT.

Just when you thought the whole idea of WAIT is almost over, you are then faced with another grander surprise that a passenger or a group of passengers have gone missing…… “tok, tok …..Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. On behalf of Cathay Pacific, I would like to apologise for the delay. We should be taxiing out in a few minutes as we are still waiting for the last few passengers. So, if I may ask you to sit back and relax; and I should come back just before we descend” When he actually meant, “ladies and gentlemen, this is me speaking and I have been through this a zillion times by now. It is the freaking delays by the airport controllers and the damn securities that caused all these. Not forgetting the group of passengers who has gone missing and we are sending our SAS troopers to track them down. I hope they come back with hand-cuffed for causing this delay!”

And so, while the rest of the world is passing me, I am still here waiting…….yes, waiting for the arrival of SOMEONE.