Not Dead.

"You didn't go and collect your results today?"

"Well I'm here, aren't I? I honestly have better things to do!"

"I love the way you think, Marvin."

-Daphne and I (more or less), before the orchestration of the "Let's Improv!" workshop

Look, if I wanted to abandon you, dear readers, I'd _say_ so, okay? :D

Thanks for staying tuned. A reward:



That is Mia Palencia. We meet an eon ago, when she was still in Double Take and playing mostly jazz music. Comparative to the stuff she's doing now? Infinitely preferable. Where was I? Ah yes, meeting. My brother and I met her at, funnily enough, a public speaking competition. Then radio silence for, oh, 3 years? When I meet her again, she's turned into a full blown artiste, with her own album and all that jazz. (Oh a pun! Well played!)

So I got my results (YES! MY SPM RESULTS! THIS IS THE END PRODUCT OF 13 FUCKIN' YEARS! I CAN NOW TELL PEOPLE I HAVE BEEN THROUGH THE SUFFOCATING DIGESTIVE SYSTEM THAT IS HIGH SCHOOL LIFE AND AM A WHOLESOME INDIVIDUAL, OKAY?) *ahem* Sorry. You can say I feel strongly about the Malaysian education system. (Bizarre, as the HKIS people, would call it.)

Breakdown:
[Compulsory]
English.........................................A1 [No shit, Sherlock!]
BM..............................................A2 [Phwoar, made it!]
English Science and Technology............A2 [.... The fuck?]
History.........................................A2 [Hellz yeah! Sleeping in class included!]
Modern Mathematics.........................A1
Moral Studies.................................C6 [Damn right, I'd be embarassed if I scored for that
bullshit.]
[Additional]
Chemistry...............................B3
Additional Mathematics...............C6
Biology..................................B3
Physics..................................B3
English in Literature...................A2 [Three fuckin' cheers. I didn't even finish the paper]

OKAY! ARE WE DONE? CAN WE LEAVE ALL THAT CRAP BEHIND US NOW?

Good. Fact of the matter is the only way I would've given a rat's ass about my results is if it secured me a scholarship. Which it doesn't. Let's move on.

I have not forgotten! I promised an update of the forensics! But it must wait, for its been a long day. I'll the past 3 weeks in one fel swoop.

Or maybe I won't. *Biiiiiiiig smile*

Game. Set. Match.

"The meeting was shifted to Monday itself, so it really doesn't look like I can make it for The Platform next week."

"Well fuck."

-Kathleen and I, in conversation, regarding the Staging of Red.


Shit happens. It seems. And apparently it decides to happen in my direction.
I promise an update of the past week, descriptions of the Forensics and my conflicted feelings with the recent few auditions well in tow.

But for now: An Interlude.

Devil’s Party. A monologue.

The stage is minimal. A chair, back facing the audience is placed left stage. Slick walks in with a bag in one hand and pills in another. Addressing the audience, he begins.

Slick: There are two things one can learn from an unusually long time spent in captivity. The first one being that you cannot die from boredom. Strange but True. The 2^nd, which is my personal fav, is just how angry you can get at your captor. The amount of animosity generated from the need for retribution. The need for judgment – Might just drive you mad…

Here’s the fun bit! I’m already insane. My “kidnapper”. My “warden” is in fact, just another (recites) manifestation of my internal subconscious. I suffer from an acute personality disorder, and one of my other halves, going by the name of a Julian managed to assume control through the wonders of modern medicine.

But, as you can see, permeated effort, enormous amounts of patience and a massively strong conviction in one’s own presence of mind will get you anywhere. I’m here now, aren’t I?

So. I can’t very well take vengeance on myself, so, I do the next best thing. Other people. Isn’t that right Mr. Watkins? Wait, no. He was the last one. My bad.

Now I’m pretty sure you lot are in no position to question my motives; because you haven’t been trapped in a mind for nine years. No, you can’t dream, or talk, or for that matter, satisfy ANY of your senses, since they are not yours to have. But I’m here now. Now’s MY time.

Listen, not to break the excellent rapport we’re having here, but I’ve got an appointment to make. You can watch if you like… door’s over there if you don’t.

(Addressing the chair)Ah. Good morning Mr. Um. What was your name again? Oh right! Gagged people aren’t exactly audible. Oops. Look, here’s a summary on your situation, minus the epilogue. I’m insane, you’re tied to a rather expensive Chippendale chair and in that bag over there I have some piano wire, some duct tape, a pair of tweezers, a set of blades, a few pencils, ya da yada.

Additionally, I also possess a confession, neatly typed, all desperate and melodramatic. What this confession is about: Suicide, murder, embezzlement, is up to your imagination. Notice I didn’t provide a pen.

To get you to sign this mystery confession: I’m going to put you through a series of hurdles.

An example of them would be the fact that all. My. Knives. Are less than half an inch long, allowing me to eviscerate you; without causing too much bleeding. ‘Cause it’s all fun and games ‘till someone loses an eye! Then it’s hilarious. Watch.

(He throws a dagger into the Chair.)

Ooch. Fun fact! The distinction between accidental cuts and self-inflicted wounds lies in the shape of them. Straight, shallow cuts, applied to the underside of the arm serve as a tell-tale sign of clinical depression. Or just mental retardation; which ironically in this case: is true. (He motions to lick knife, but stops short)

Oh you thought I was really going to do it! You really thought I was going to do the penultimate homicidal maniac maneuver! …Actually, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Blech. Tastes like crap, but it was worth it to see your eyelids stretch another centimeter backwards.

So, Mr… Oh sod it, tell you what. We’ve been such good friends so far, and I don’t even know your name! So: I’m going to remove the gag so you can actually tell me your name, you may also plead for your life, but that’s a bonus.

Ready? 3, 2, 1, go!

Mm-hmm. Yes yes, father of 4, yes, I know I’m never gonna get away with it. Come on, fast forward to the bit I want to know. Mr. Doles! Yes, thank you, your pleas for mercy shall be forwarded to the appropriate authorities. Other than that, you may only beseech me with that wide look of fear in your eyes of which you’re getting so good at.

Aww… Oh ho no no no, don’t cry, Mr. Watkins. There’s hope, after all. You get to find out what really happens after you die. Not so thrilling? That’s okay. We’re in this for the ride.

I said don’t cry, it’s not polite.

(There is a pain at the base of Slick’s skull. He reacts appropriately.)

Oh lo and behold. Remember that dominant personality I told you about? Oh shut up, I’m not talking to you. Hehehehe, Julian’s a lovely chap, really, he is. He’d be your friend, if you could actually meet him. Come to think of it, he’s everybody’s friend. ‘Course, I’ve been taking my pills like a good boy, so, that’s a no-go on the meeting Julian bit. Also---

(Enter Julian, nervous, disoriented, and scared.)

|Julian:| Gaaah! Wait- what? Who the hell are you? Oh my god that’s a knife. W—

(Re enter Slick.)

Slick: Aaaaaaaaand NOTE to self! Gotta Double the dosage.

Oh right, yeah. Sorry about that. Guess you did get to meet Julian after all. Pleasant chap, eh? Abit shy, abit rough around the edges, but no worries.

Listen. I’m gonna go make us some cocktails, and while I’m at it, grab some much needed happy pills from a nearby pharmacy. You sit tight, yeah? Keep up that whimpering; you’re doing so well!

(Slick exits.)

I read this script, and I am unhappy. Purely because with the cancelling of Red (and unless I can pull an actress out of a hat, It's cancelled), this is the script I intend to join the march platform with, which is rollicking fun to perform, but I realize that it really doesn't go anywhere as an actual play.
Yes, not everything has to make a _statement_, but bugger. It's just not ready yet, I feel.

Epic Fail.

"'Tis your delight sir; catching fire from one man to the next!"

"'Tis true, sir; love can still inspire the blood to pound the heartly pyre. What more?"

"What more can man Require?"

"But love, sir?"

"More than love, sir!"

"What, sir?"

"Women."

"Ah yes, women."

"Pretty women."

- Sweeney Todd; Pretty Women.

My life, it seems, has taken a turn into music. Not like "I AM INSPIRED! I MUST WRITE SONGS!" kind of turn, but more "Ah shit; I have to sing?" kind of turn.

Let's list them off.
Incident #1: The Oral Stage's "How I Learned to Drive". There are, in total, two male roles out of a 5 maximum cast. One is an uncle. Shit. The other requires me to sing. Double shit. Now I just _know_ I'm in a bloody tight spot. Either I nail the lead and go from there, or I cash in on consolation (Ie: Stage Manager); and... well. Mope.
So I read the monologue given to me. It's pretty drab. It's just the character taking the female lead character out to fish. There were nuances to display good and proper emotions; and some subtle hints at something more sinister: but mostly I felt like I was channeling soccer dad. (Read: Failing.) So then we're done with that ordeal, and our most benevolent director asks me to belt out a song. Thinking back, with this voice; Judy Collin's Send in the Clowns might've been a good idea. But do I use my expansive intellect? Nah. I sing out the song listed above mostly because it was stuck in my head the entire day. (Read: Failing.) He then asks the winning question: What do you know about Stage Managing? I'm probably reading into this too much, but fuck! I think I bombed it! *swallows hard*

Incident #2 (pleasant): Immediately after the audition, I meet up with Kathleen and talk about Red; which is beginning to properly take shape. Excellent. Happy is my heart, says I. After that, I try (Read: Fail) to find No Black Tie to head for the acoustic gig. Up and down Mersui street, getting the most retardedly conflicting directions possible. Nothing quiiiiiite like a confused boy in jeans holding a file passing by more than 6 times to really amuse people. EVENTUALLY my guesswork at which street goes where hits home after a good 40 minutes of walking in the same damn area; and I make it into No Breathing Tonight with minutes to go before the show starts. And it was AM-MAY-ZING. Good god, but there were some damn award-winning vocals in there. Mia stole the show, but I'm biased. Go go. Clicky on link. Spread the gospel that is the local arts scene.

Incident #3: I got a facebook-group-wide invite to go audition for "KAM.... IN YOUR FACE!"; a cabaret show with some of the biggest names in the business. Lead role. Male. Problem? CABARET? FUCK! Why, god Why, doth thee smite me into Tone Deafness! WHY! This play's huge; and here I am, sitting with an audition in my lap. But I'll need to sing one slow and one fast song. (Read: FAIL!). I'm intimidated. I well and truly am. My normally arrogance-enforced courage is suddenly wavering under the might of the minions of Total Embarrassment. I really really want to go; but gods; it feels like trying to winning a race when I'm in a fuckin' wheel chair.

Random note: COMPUTER UPGRADE! SHINEH! New video card, double the ram, and, behold, a new keyboard. Awesome; my excuses to neglect this blog are being whittled down faster than snowflake on a tongue. But World of Warcraft looks so puuurrty... @.@

P.s: Naoko: Appreciated, Nao, but I really don't know what to make of it. :P

Syar: To Glomp: The etymology is the subject of speculation, with hypotheses ranging from derivation from a combination of glom and jump to an acronym of "Grab, Latch On, Maintain Pressure". No authoritative etymology exists, however.
Also, Kid, because "here's looking at you, big sister" doesn't work.

A Lot of Time on His Hands

"Wait wait wait wait wait, he (Wall-E) has EYEBROWS?!"

"Duh!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

- Calvin and I, in conversation. (I leave you to pick out who is whom.)

My brother at one point, upon the creation of his blog, had an idea where he wanted to put a new youtube video with each post. It'd be a "The Daily Tube", as it were. His rationale was: "I'd never run out of cool things to put up."

And we are both people that like to share.

Here, have at it.
(Advice? Stave off watching this until after a long frustrating day)



After going to the Platform last week, a bunch of us (say... 7 of us?) were at a mamak (like we always are) and talked about random stuff. Somewhere in there; we started off on movies, and one of them goes and says that the difference between books and movies is their obligation to explain stuff. Wherein a movie, where it is almost always a contained story in such a short duration, the most beautiful things go unsaid.
So I pipe up and say: "The next Pixar movie boasts no dialogue"
And everybody at the table just goes "Woooooooah"
This is the movie I was talking about.

Also, I've decided I'll reply to all comments on my blog on my next blogpost.
Behold: The P.S. section.

P.s.:

Nick: Fuck's sake, man. o.O I have ST runs to administrate!

Tham: Sifn't! *Sticks tongue out* In order for what I just did to be construed as Journalism, the person I quote has to be notable. (Ooooooh! Buuuuuurn! Zing, Rimshot!) I intend to be doing broadcasting instead. :B

Jaz: Verified. :D

Begging Your Pardon, Dear Reader...

"I am going to die cold and alone: A geek."
"orly?"
"yarly :("
"don't believe you. don't you have flocks of fangirls throwing their knickers at you all the time, or is that just Calvin's propaganda? :P"
"Calvin's propaganda"
"I am comfortable with talking to girls. Which is good and proper. I fail to see the knickers."
"I don't understand, you're a terrible flirt..."
"Yes. Terrible at it. Atrocious."
"nono, not terrible at it.."
"Quite terrible. Very off key and inappropriate.I will hear nothing of the contrary."
"you might not hear it, but that doesn't mean it isn't true :P"
"Lies and defamation."
"defamation? calling you a good flirt is defamation now? :P"
"*holds up cross* I WILL HEAR NO MORE!"
"lol"

-Tham and I, in conversation over MSN.

I've been using that phrase alot. "I'm going to die Cold and Alone: A Geek". Probably because it's true. More probably because I've been _SUCH_ the geek these past couple days. Been doing relatively nothing but sitting at home and leveling my Paladin. (Ding! 52!)
F'Serious. I've had noooothing to do in the name of productivity for more than a week.
Okay, I lie. I've been viewing and reviewing "Red" which is the script I intend to enter the March Platform with.
-Went to Genting Highlands with Nick, Amelia and Jon (Fun chap. Deeeep voiced.) to do a mock interview. It was fun! Just standing around a set and trying to be productive.
-It's chinese new year, so I've paid all my relatives a hearty well-deserved visit. Gong Xi Fa Choi, everyone. Also popped over to Gustave's house for spaghetti and (unplanned) gambling. It's good to catch up with him. The animosity's seemed to have dissipated entirely, which is good. I'm going to be on set with him tomorrow.
-Went to Syar's surprise party. Which was awesome. Met a couple new people. Talked of further geekdom. I've always wanted to be part of a surprise party. But I couldn't hide out and glomp syar for fear of breaking everyone else's surprise. Garn. (Here's looking at you, Kid.)

Other than that it's been: Judge Crusader on target. Seal of Righteousness up. Bap target. Loot target. Repeat as necessary in appropriate environments. Side note: Protection AoE farming is _insane_. And I've been listening to the Soundtrack for Battlestar Galactica alot. Divine stuff.

Okay, so obligatory update on my life's done, let's get down to the whinging.
I have decided that I do not update this blog nearly enough for my own liking. Now that I have decided as such, I'm not sure what I'm going to _do_ about it. For one thing, I hate my keyboard. The keys are a pain to hit, and my typing speed is pretty damn fast, so I dislike having to slow down for the keyboard. It's like having an ulcer on your tongue. Suddenly it seems like the effort to say "Love ya!" to someone isn't worth it, with the way the tongue clicks on the teeth. Pain. Misery.
But anyway, I'm sorry, dear reader. :( But thanks for staying tuned.

This whole "nothing to do" spree, while liberating, is starting to get a little frustrating. Laziness is a slippery slope, I feel, and the more I sink into it the less motivated I get to do stuff. This blog being a case in point. Suddenly an hour of sleep is infinitely preferable to going to a meet up with friends. A run through an instance more attractive than going out to watch Sweeney Todd. (I haven't watched Sweeney Todd yet! What the fuck!) I worry it'll stick. But damn, I love being able to tell people "No, I'm free. What's up?"

BUT! There be a silver lining, my friends! Tomorrow I depart for another shoot for that TV Pendidikan project. (About damn time. At this rate we'll never get 13 episodes under our belt).
Audition for The Oral Stage's next play this Sunday. The Acting for Beginners workshop begins this Sat. Well and good. I'm hoping this'll kick my arse back into gear (and maybe Nick's priest'll catch up to the paladin)

Lastly! And this is what the starting quote relates to; Valentine's coming up soon! Jeez, Feb 14th already! Time flies when you're having fun.
.... Ah hell, what'm I gonna do for Valentine's. XD

Tell Me Are You the Ghost of Jealousy?

"And I heard a voice in my head that said 'Whatever you do, don't turn around.' So I quietly just turned out the lights and went to bed. The next morning my sisters tell me that they pissed off a river spirit that apparently likes windows. I would not have liked to think about what I would've seen if I had turned around."

"Jeebus."

- Erna and I, in conversation. Starbucks.

I have an odd affliction as of late, since the conversation above last Saturday. I have been quite afraid to sleep in the dark. This development is not actually a major problem, but I thought I left that back in Standard 4. My issue, rather, is the where the fear stems from. Which is, naturally, a fear of ghosts and ghouls and things that go Bump in the night, but not directly. My thorough concern is the plain fact that while I am not afraid of seeing blood and gore and sharp teeth, my mind is beginning to do fucking loop de loops everytime I crawl into bed. My thorough concern lies in this: that my mind will wander far enough to give me a proper thrashing in an "Otherworldly" experience, which will force me to rethink my beliefs on how this world works.

Lets get something straight. I am very Atheist. I am of the opinion that the world can be explained (And saved) by rational thought and empirical experimentation. And while I cannot deny that I am not infallible, or that other people have gone through plenty of stuff that science cannot deduce, I have always put it down to a matter of "Cannot deduce yet". And these things that happen to other people stay that way through the willful philosophy of "Don't give a toss"

But the mind doesn't like to listen to what I think. Nay, it cares little as to my ingrained beliefs and barred doors. Instead once I turn out the lights it begins to recall that witching hour is not 12 o clock but the hour that it is currently at, it reminds me of the cheap B horror youtube video that someone tricked me into watching. It sends an involuntary shiver down my spine just to give me a little extra boost of adrenaline, and while all this rages in my head? Queue Cal's leg rolling onto my chest to make me damn near jump out of bed. (My bed rolls out under Cal's. And he moves alot, when he's asleep. His limbs thwacking me is not something that occurs rarely, but how more perfect can you get in timing?)

Then "Screw this" goes me conscious mind, and I open my eyes and flick the light switch. While the world bleeds back into colour, I realize exaaactly how silly it all is. Understand my problem here: It is not ghosts that scare me, but that my mind allows itself to go that far involuntarily, and will eventually lead to a ghost; because thats my firm belief of how these things manifest. And while my rationale will not change, it'll become alot harder to hold onto.
But there is a silver lining. Fears breed either of two things: Defenses or Mobility. So, today on the train (Where I do most of my thinking), I wondered why I'm so scared of having my beliefs turned topsy turvy. An open mind is a growing one. One that is quite immune to the fear of change. Which I have always been a large supporter of. So this is good! Its forced me into properly Mobilizing my thinking. And while I think that Hypocrisy in some incarnations is tolerable. This matter simply won't do.
Excuse me while I shift my paradigm around a little.

Leave that to cool on the counter...
Now. My life for the past couple days has been very very happy. I am more and more comfortable in answering the question: "So what're you doing now?". I find that the lack of a scheduled binding commitment to anything means that my limits are... whats that word? Tier 2 holy priest set... my limits are Transcended.

But I am not slacking. It has come to a point where the only reason I can't show up for a poetry reading or a party, or an audition, is when I am going for _Another_ poetry reading, party or audition. And that feels perfectly outstanding.
Without time being its fleetish self, I am directly in control of the flow of my life. Whether or not I'm going to be out the whole day, or whether I would like to just frag for the next 5 hours.

I was literally skipping and singing my way around while I walked to school today to meet some teachers about the Forensics after the half-interview, half-plugging KLPac and The Oral Stage on RTM2 today. However, there lies a knot in the day's progression upwards. Madam E played the bitch card and essentially took away all hopes of participation in the Forensics this year. (sorry guys. D=) And I was quite peeved on how the conversation went. Too polite, too awkward. I should've said something about it, in retrospect, but somehow the route I'm taking seems more... justified.

I'm going to Judge in an Individual manner. Unaffiliated, and I went through Madam E's best friend to enter my name. (Cheers to Gus for the idea) This is not boasting. This is the stark realization that people control me only if I let them.

Transcendence indeed, good sir.

Now, because I don't like ending on morbid tones:


Roborovski owner: They are very curious; this may or may not overcome their natural fear of humans, and watching their internal struggle when they want to grab a sunflower seed from your hand is hilarious

I think this cold shard of cynicism I call a heart might just melt.

A call to arms

"Which risk would you rather take, listen to the activists and take big action now, risking the possible harm to the economy that the skeptics warned us about. Or listening to the skeptics and don't take big action now; risking the possible destruction and upheaval [Of the Earth] that the activists warned us about"

-How It All Ends video.

As a public speaker, I'm pretty familiar with the term "Call to Arms", which is essentially every public speaker's optimal closing paragraph. Because the audience doesn't really care to be lectured about how things work or why certain things happen, but rather what they can do about it. Essentially a public speech normally tells the audience something they probably don't know. Like "the alarmingly increasing crime rates in Malaysia", or the "ineffable virtues of duct tape". It ranges. But point of fact is that the speech is like a story, although more direct. It carries a message; it informs, so a Call to Arms is very very much a good way to end a speech because once you've informed someone about the goings on of something, they'll want to know how it affects them and if so, what they can do about it.

For example: Corruption in Malaysia? Interesting topic.
The Mating habits of Dolphins? Not so much.

So you see, things have to affect us in order for us to care. And if it does, a Call to Arms to fix the solution is a good idea of making us care some more.

And given that: Rare is the Call to Arms in a speech that actually moves me enough to take action. With or without convincing argument, it is rare that someone can say something that literally makes me want to do something to solve the problem. The famous Stephen Tyler quote from Fight Club is one of them. And the most recent convincing speech, is this.



The Call to Arms at the end of this video is simple. Spread the word.
And it makes me care enough to want to. So. I know the video's a long one, but please do take the time to let it load up and watch it. Listen to the music selection that I have at the ready while you're at it if you want something to do.