Dear Christian
On December 20, 1978, an alien vessel landed in some rice paddies on the outskirts of Jakarta, Indonesia. Inside the vessel was a little baby boy — the sole survivor of a faraway planet torn by war, famine, pestilence and death. On Earth, the boy was adopted into a loving Catholic family who raised him, out of the public eye, to become a mild-mannered reporter, and then later a blog writer and try-hard designer, after briefly flirting with psychology. On his 24th birthday, the boy will develop incredible superpowers — flight, super-strength etc.
Or maybe that’ll come with your 25th birthday.
Or maybe even your 26th.
Well, it’ll come eventually. Just keep waiting…
Happy birthday dude!
Your imaginary imaginary friend,
Sleepwalker
PS. I got a picture sms this morning and I must confess that I accidently deleted it without finding out who it was from... well whoever that was... thanks :)
Friday, December 20, 2002
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
Birthday blues
There’s an alarm clock by my bed that no longer tells me the right time. It just goes tick tick tick and the monotony of it probably helps put me to sleep every night. And it’s been like this for the past two years. Last year, my Swatch watch that I had been wearing since I was in year 11 died on me. I loved that watch. And so I bought myself a new watch. But I lost that. And to be honest, I haven’t really bothered to look for it. Or buy a new one.
I guess I’ve been trying to tell myself that I don’t really want to know the time anymore.
A week before my 24th birthday, and I’m in teenybopper heaven watching four gay dancing boys wiggling their butts to Liberty X. It tells me that I got back to my seat way too early. I should’ve stayed outside and had the rest of my scalp sprayed blue.
But I am at Rumba. So I guess I might as well take everything in… and all the unearthly delights it has to offer.
The line-up isn’t as impressive as last year. Bachelor Girl headlines a mostly pre-recorded first half that features IIO, DJ Sammy, Sophie Monk and Abs, who plays a magical keyboard that continues to play itself even after he stops playing. Sophie, at least, had other things to offer.
Selwyn’s actually OK. Australia’s little king of try-hard RnB comes on with his posse of other ‘I’ve-never-lived-in-American-ghettos-but-I-act-like-I-do’ boys and actually does a decent job of working the crowd with lines like ‘When I say SEL, you say WYN! SEL-WYN! SEL-WYN!’
Ironically, the acts which I end up enjoying the most are the ones that didn’t even make it to the main stage. Brooke McClymont and David Franj are two names that I will no doubt be looking out for at the record shops in the near future.
But back to the main stage, the latter half of the program improves a lot in terms of quality of performance and crowd atmosphere. While Taxiride is only so-so and looks like they wish they were headlining the Big Day Out instead of Teenyfest, Pink, Bon Jovi and Shaggy (and to a lesser extent, Natalie Imbruglia) all manage to get the crowd going and put on great shows. But I think it still says something when the only songs I find myself singing along to are Bon Jovi’s old stuff. Like Livin’on a prayer and Bad medicine.
Don’t get me wrong. I had a fun time. But I don’t feel like writing any more about it for the time being. And maybe my time for these things are coming to a close… unless of course Mandy or Avril decide to come next year.
But until then… maybe I’ll buy myself a new watch for my birthday.
There’s an alarm clock by my bed that no longer tells me the right time. It just goes tick tick tick and the monotony of it probably helps put me to sleep every night. And it’s been like this for the past two years. Last year, my Swatch watch that I had been wearing since I was in year 11 died on me. I loved that watch. And so I bought myself a new watch. But I lost that. And to be honest, I haven’t really bothered to look for it. Or buy a new one.
I guess I’ve been trying to tell myself that I don’t really want to know the time anymore.
A week before my 24th birthday, and I’m in teenybopper heaven watching four gay dancing boys wiggling their butts to Liberty X. It tells me that I got back to my seat way too early. I should’ve stayed outside and had the rest of my scalp sprayed blue.
But I am at Rumba. So I guess I might as well take everything in… and all the unearthly delights it has to offer.
The line-up isn’t as impressive as last year. Bachelor Girl headlines a mostly pre-recorded first half that features IIO, DJ Sammy, Sophie Monk and Abs, who plays a magical keyboard that continues to play itself even after he stops playing. Sophie, at least, had other things to offer.
Selwyn’s actually OK. Australia’s little king of try-hard RnB comes on with his posse of other ‘I’ve-never-lived-in-American-ghettos-but-I-act-like-I-do’ boys and actually does a decent job of working the crowd with lines like ‘When I say SEL, you say WYN! SEL-WYN! SEL-WYN!’
Ironically, the acts which I end up enjoying the most are the ones that didn’t even make it to the main stage. Brooke McClymont and David Franj are two names that I will no doubt be looking out for at the record shops in the near future.
But back to the main stage, the latter half of the program improves a lot in terms of quality of performance and crowd atmosphere. While Taxiride is only so-so and looks like they wish they were headlining the Big Day Out instead of Teenyfest, Pink, Bon Jovi and Shaggy (and to a lesser extent, Natalie Imbruglia) all manage to get the crowd going and put on great shows. But I think it still says something when the only songs I find myself singing along to are Bon Jovi’s old stuff. Like Livin’on a prayer and Bad medicine.
Don’t get me wrong. I had a fun time. But I don’t feel like writing any more about it for the time being. And maybe my time for these things are coming to a close… unless of course Mandy or Avril decide to come next year.
But until then… maybe I’ll buy myself a new watch for my birthday.
Friday, December 06, 2002
The day the Earth stood still
It kinda felt like it didn’t it? The lights flickering. The computers rebooting themselves at random intervals and the server making weird cicada-like noises. And now the air conditioning is down. You thought maybe it was because you were screwing around on the internet when you should’ve been working.
Oh my God! What did I do? What did I do?!
Or it may have been the beginnings of an alien invasion. Just like in the movie.
But no. It was the fires. And while they were blazing, and homes were getting destroyed, you were sitting at your desk complaining that your email wasn’t working. I’m sure there’s something in that to ponder about. But it’s totally escaped you.
The train ride to the city was slow but thankfully the air conditioning was working. It stopped for about ten minutes at every station. So long was the ride that a middle-aged Chinese man started doing exercises to prevent deep vein thrombosis — something that he had no doubt learnt on a flight from Taipei, Shanghai or wherever the guy came from. I doubt that he was ever really in risk of dying while in the hands Cityrail’s finest though. I would’ve been more worried about the vegetables that he had bought from Chinatown that day. But then again, the air conditioning was working.
When stopped in the middle of a tunnel, to your right were two people standing in the space in between the carriages to have a smoke. It bothered you to think just how bad it must be to not even be able to wait a few minutes to have a smoke. But then it was the actual smell that bothered you more wasn’t it?
At Wynyard, people bustled about as usual but traffic was at a standstill and the escalators weren’t working. And when you got to class, the elevators weren’t working there either and you had to go up seven extra floors and then come back all the way down where you had to wait for Miss Buffy to come get you. You felt like there was something that people weren’t telling you. Something a little eerie to the senses. Just like in the movie.
Going home wasn’t any better either. All the trains were out of whack and the one that was supposed to take you home ended up going first stop Glenfield. There weren’t even meant to be any trains going to Glenfield that night! The man standing beside you kept saying ‘Good on them, they deserve that train.’ And the first time he said it, it kinda amused and the next couple of times was overkill but the next few times after that and you were thinking ‘Dude, you’re weird!’
Although I doubt the word ‘dude’ was actually used. You wouldn’t use the word ‘dude’ would you?
But there was a consolation to waiting so long to get home wasn’t there? There was a girl. One of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on. And she was waiting for the same train. She reminded you a little of Chloe Maxwell, but with the charming effervescence of Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly and the impressive bustline of Jennifer Love Hewitt’s… well… every character she plays, I guess. She’s the kind of girl that almost makes you thankful that it’s taking you so long to get home.
Almost.
But the train chugged along and eventually the long stops weren’t so long anymore and past the airport, the train ride became pretty smooth. And then, more than two hours after you left class, it’s your stop and you got off and walked up the stairs. And when you’re up there, the traffic lights seemed to be acting a little funny and you half-expected the flying saucer to come down in front of you, didn’t you? And then the spaceman in the robot suit would walk out of the saucer and explain everything to you. Just like in the movie.
It would be fitting, don’t you think? Your state battling the terrible annual fires. Your government backing another government to start another kind of fire. And the spaceman in the robot suit would walk out of the saucer and explain everything to you.
But there was nothing. There’s just you walking on home, happy that you’ll make it back in time for FreakyLinks, and singing ‘Your body is a wonderland’ in your head. I guess that was for the girl. It always seems to end up being about a girl, doesn’t it?
It kinda felt like it didn’t it? The lights flickering. The computers rebooting themselves at random intervals and the server making weird cicada-like noises. And now the air conditioning is down. You thought maybe it was because you were screwing around on the internet when you should’ve been working.
Oh my God! What did I do? What did I do?!
Or it may have been the beginnings of an alien invasion. Just like in the movie.
But no. It was the fires. And while they were blazing, and homes were getting destroyed, you were sitting at your desk complaining that your email wasn’t working. I’m sure there’s something in that to ponder about. But it’s totally escaped you.
The train ride to the city was slow but thankfully the air conditioning was working. It stopped for about ten minutes at every station. So long was the ride that a middle-aged Chinese man started doing exercises to prevent deep vein thrombosis — something that he had no doubt learnt on a flight from Taipei, Shanghai or wherever the guy came from. I doubt that he was ever really in risk of dying while in the hands Cityrail’s finest though. I would’ve been more worried about the vegetables that he had bought from Chinatown that day. But then again, the air conditioning was working.
When stopped in the middle of a tunnel, to your right were two people standing in the space in between the carriages to have a smoke. It bothered you to think just how bad it must be to not even be able to wait a few minutes to have a smoke. But then it was the actual smell that bothered you more wasn’t it?
At Wynyard, people bustled about as usual but traffic was at a standstill and the escalators weren’t working. And when you got to class, the elevators weren’t working there either and you had to go up seven extra floors and then come back all the way down where you had to wait for Miss Buffy to come get you. You felt like there was something that people weren’t telling you. Something a little eerie to the senses. Just like in the movie.
Going home wasn’t any better either. All the trains were out of whack and the one that was supposed to take you home ended up going first stop Glenfield. There weren’t even meant to be any trains going to Glenfield that night! The man standing beside you kept saying ‘Good on them, they deserve that train.’ And the first time he said it, it kinda amused and the next couple of times was overkill but the next few times after that and you were thinking ‘Dude, you’re weird!’
Although I doubt the word ‘dude’ was actually used. You wouldn’t use the word ‘dude’ would you?
But there was a consolation to waiting so long to get home wasn’t there? There was a girl. One of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on. And she was waiting for the same train. She reminded you a little of Chloe Maxwell, but with the charming effervescence of Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly and the impressive bustline of Jennifer Love Hewitt’s… well… every character she plays, I guess. She’s the kind of girl that almost makes you thankful that it’s taking you so long to get home.
Almost.
But the train chugged along and eventually the long stops weren’t so long anymore and past the airport, the train ride became pretty smooth. And then, more than two hours after you left class, it’s your stop and you got off and walked up the stairs. And when you’re up there, the traffic lights seemed to be acting a little funny and you half-expected the flying saucer to come down in front of you, didn’t you? And then the spaceman in the robot suit would walk out of the saucer and explain everything to you. Just like in the movie.
It would be fitting, don’t you think? Your state battling the terrible annual fires. Your government backing another government to start another kind of fire. And the spaceman in the robot suit would walk out of the saucer and explain everything to you.
But there was nothing. There’s just you walking on home, happy that you’ll make it back in time for FreakyLinks, and singing ‘Your body is a wonderland’ in your head. I guess that was for the girl. It always seems to end up being about a girl, doesn’t it?
Monday, December 02, 2002
Weekend
Episode 1: Uncommon sense … or The Fabio moment
A defining moment in television during the late 90s is when Fabio, after eating a piece of bread with a delicious yellow low-calorie spread, says: ‘I can’t believe it’s not butter.’
On the weekend, I had one of those Fabio moments. Except I was saying: ‘I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.’ And I still can’t. The situation was something like this:
I stated a simple proposition that I had always assumed to be a commonly known fact, completely unworthy of any lengthy discussion. But the people who were with me disputed this through the use of illogical tangents and lines of thought that I can’t describe in any way other than to make them look moronic.
So I stopped the discussion at some point and just smiled. Sometimes it’s the only way to deal with these kinds of situations. What bothered me even more is the fact that the people I was talking to were all rather bright individuals who are not, in any way, moronic.
And this leads me to think the following:
Some people assume that the ability for logical thinking is innate. I have often assumed that some thought processes that I possess are ones which I can just pile under: ‘just use your common sense.’ It’s taken me this long to realise that logical thinking isn’t just something you either have or you don’t. It’s also a trained skill. There are certain thought processes that I find easy to deal with and yet I have a lot of trouble conveying the same ideas to other people. I’m not saying I’m intellectually superior to these people. I’m simply saying that they’ve never been exposed to certain ways of thinking that I may have. As De Bono would say, people don’t spend enough time thinking about thinking.
I think I’ll stop here. I’ve been thinking of ways to continue this discussion without being condescending, but I can’t find any.
__________
Episode 2: Scaring myself
OK, so I saw The Ring. Yes it has some scary bits but it’s not as scary as Mark and Riss say it is! It was a good movie though. Very enjoyable. Naomi Watts is divine. The ending begs for a sequel. I liked it.
But in terms of being frightening, it didn’t do that much for me. During the movie, it was scary but afterwards, it didn’t creep me out at all thinking about it. Not the way that thinking about the Sixth Sense (especially that vomiting girl in the tent scene) or the Exorcist (spider-walk anyone?) still scares me even now. Actually I think if I saw just the video (the video in the movie) without watching the movie itself, I’d be far more creeped out. There’s something really frightening about disjointed random images that don’t make sense.
So the next day, I decided to borrow the Omen trilogy to see if that scares me. Nah. Again, good films, but I slept soundly.
But I think I know now where they got idea for The Ring: Forwarded emails! I can’t explain this any more without giving the ending away but I think those who have seen it might know what I’m talking about.
Episode 1: Uncommon sense … or The Fabio moment
A defining moment in television during the late 90s is when Fabio, after eating a piece of bread with a delicious yellow low-calorie spread, says: ‘I can’t believe it’s not butter.’
On the weekend, I had one of those Fabio moments. Except I was saying: ‘I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.’ And I still can’t. The situation was something like this:
I stated a simple proposition that I had always assumed to be a commonly known fact, completely unworthy of any lengthy discussion. But the people who were with me disputed this through the use of illogical tangents and lines of thought that I can’t describe in any way other than to make them look moronic.
So I stopped the discussion at some point and just smiled. Sometimes it’s the only way to deal with these kinds of situations. What bothered me even more is the fact that the people I was talking to were all rather bright individuals who are not, in any way, moronic.
And this leads me to think the following:
Some people assume that the ability for logical thinking is innate. I have often assumed that some thought processes that I possess are ones which I can just pile under: ‘just use your common sense.’ It’s taken me this long to realise that logical thinking isn’t just something you either have or you don’t. It’s also a trained skill. There are certain thought processes that I find easy to deal with and yet I have a lot of trouble conveying the same ideas to other people. I’m not saying I’m intellectually superior to these people. I’m simply saying that they’ve never been exposed to certain ways of thinking that I may have. As De Bono would say, people don’t spend enough time thinking about thinking.
I think I’ll stop here. I’ve been thinking of ways to continue this discussion without being condescending, but I can’t find any.
__________
Episode 2: Scaring myself
OK, so I saw The Ring. Yes it has some scary bits but it’s not as scary as Mark and Riss say it is! It was a good movie though. Very enjoyable. Naomi Watts is divine. The ending begs for a sequel. I liked it.
But in terms of being frightening, it didn’t do that much for me. During the movie, it was scary but afterwards, it didn’t creep me out at all thinking about it. Not the way that thinking about the Sixth Sense (especially that vomiting girl in the tent scene) or the Exorcist (spider-walk anyone?) still scares me even now. Actually I think if I saw just the video (the video in the movie) without watching the movie itself, I’d be far more creeped out. There’s something really frightening about disjointed random images that don’t make sense.
So the next day, I decided to borrow the Omen trilogy to see if that scares me. Nah. Again, good films, but I slept soundly.
But I think I know now where they got idea for The Ring: Forwarded emails! I can’t explain this any more without giving the ending away but I think those who have seen it might know what I’m talking about.
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