Win or Lose

Read a story about lawyers from an old magazine.

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There was a retired lawyers who had an young apprentice. He taught the young man everything in laws and how to win a case in court. Before he completed his training with his master, the young apprentice agreed to pay all his training fees after his first court case in court.

However, this young fella was smart, he worked on cases that didn't require appearance in court. He has never won any court case in court himself and hence no need to pay his master anything.

The old master felt short changed and came out with an idea.

He sued the young man and the judge ordered both party to appear in court to settle the dispute.

Thus, a dilemma for the young man:

- If he loses the court case, he would have to pay.

- If he wins, it would be his first case won in court and hence fulfilling the agreement. He also needs to pay.

Its a die if you do it, die if you don't situation.

So, what is your take in this?

Jack and the bean stalk

Among all the fables, fairy tales and children stories, Jack and the bean stalk is probably the most counter educational.

Almost all children from my generation know about Jack and his magical bean stalk. It troubled me the first time my primary school teacher told us the story in class. Of course being a extremely shy and timid good pupil, I wouldn't dare to ask the question that was left unanswered until I was old enough to ignore it.

For those who don't know the story, it is really a simple.

Jack was a boy who lived with his mother. Although not mentioned in the story, I assumed in a remote area far from others for the later part of the story to work out. They were very poor and all they had got was an old cow named Buttercup.
One fine day, mother asked Jack to take Buttercup to the market and sell her to get some money for their food.
Jack happily went and ended up con'ed by an old man (why always old men?) who exchange the cow for 5 beans, which he claimed was magical and would give Jack everything that he wanted.
Dumb Jack went home and of course got yelled at (probably beaten up) by mom. If he was my son, I would have strangled him.
Mom threw the beans out in the yard and they went to bed without food. Sob sob.
The next day, they found the beans had grown into a thick, tall bean stalk that shot all the way up in the clouds.
Jack climbed up the bean stalk and arrived at a huge house belonged to a giant. (some versions say "ugly giant" to make IT more evil)
In the house, Jack met an old lady who hid him away from the giant. (some versions say she was the giant mother. Well, fairy tale)
Jack found some treasures inside the "ugly giant" house and thank you very much ran away with all of them. Of course the giant went after him and as in all fairy tales, Jack out ran the giant and went back to earth safely to realize that the giant was climbing down the bean stalk right behind him.
Smart Jack grabbed an axe and chopped down the bean stalk just in time and the "ugly giant"fell and died.
I still remembered the sound effect my teacher made when she was telling the story. "sheeee¡­ Poong" with her arm sweeping down to show us how the bean stalk would have fallen.
The treasure Jack got were a golden egg laying goose and a magic harp that could play by itself (an iPod probably).
Hence, jack and mom live rich and entertained ever after.

So, what is the moral of this story?
1. Its ok to steal if you are the main character of the story
2. If the other guy is a giant (especially ugly ones), witches etc, they deserve it.
3. Its ok to kill mercilessly for the main character to live happily ever after.

Lets check other famous fairy tales if they carry the same moral. We have to look at the original stories, not the adapted version for Hollywood.

1. Snow white ¨C the evil step mother queen was killed by the 7 dwarfs after she attempted murder on Snow White. Fair game.

2. Cinderella - No killing involved although her mother had to chop off the toes of her sisters to try to fit the glass shoe. She didn't even revenge on her evil mother and sisters

3. Little Mermaid - she had to kill the prince she loved to transform back to a mermaid. This is a sad love story and she didn't have a choice and it would likely haunt her for the rest of her sad life.

4. Thumbelina- the thumb size beauty with a kind heart. A warm story without any killing.

5. Hansel and Gretel -children of a useless father who were imprisoned by a witch who wanted to eat them. They cleverly tricked and killed the witch and escaped. Again, it is a fair game.

6. Sleeping beauty - brave prince broke the spell and saved the princess who might be older than his grand mother. No killing involved.

7. Frog prince - ugly frog turned into handsome prince after a kiss from the little princess who hated him. No killing.

8. Beauty and the beast - long story but no innocent people were killed.

9. Rumple Stilt skin - lapricon who made deal with a girl who later became a queen with his help. She won eventually but it was a deal and no foul play from either party.

10. Pinocchio - The wooden puppet who liked to lie. It was a happy ending and nobody was killed.

Now, do you see the difference?
If you had told this story to your young innocent children (not too many of them nowadays), how would you have answered their questions?
- is Jack stealing?
- why did he kill the giant?
- is it right to steal and kill and live happily ever after?

Wasn't it Good

A song by Tina Arena.
Wicked laugh, wasn’t it good?

Wasn't it good

Wouldn't you know it I've lost my courage.
Isn't it funny, me lost my words.
Not that it really matters, cause I know you know.
And you would have told me yourself if you could.

Remember the first time, we met each other.
you were in your world and i was in mine.
Breaking down the barrier, we broke all rules.
But wasn't it good, wasn't it fine?

While I took for granted, you took your time.
Longing for love oh how we tried.
It's all over now that's understood, but wasn't it good.

So long together, two would be lovers.
Caring for the flowers that just wouldn't grow.
And in all of our tomorrow, we'll have yesterday
And wasn't it good, wasn't it fine.

While I took for granted, you took your time.
Longing for love oh how we tried.
It's all over now that's understood, but wasn't it good.

昨日- 今天

年少时轻狂，曾说：
清泉入俗流﹐知心何處尋﹐
一啸驚天地,　举杯谈风云．

也曾为情执著：
人如風箏情如線﹐晴空萬里繫柔絲﹐
滄海桑田心如昔﹐溺水三千一瓢足。

茫茫人海知心緣﹐處處芳草一般景﹐
千回百轉人生路﹐經霜耐雪傲寒心。

也曾甜蜜的爱过：
柔柔清晨柔柔風﹐柔柔花兒柔柔蕊﹐
柔柔月光柔柔夜﹐柔柔人兒柔柔心。

当然也曾伤心过，已为刻骨銘心：
人生失意無南北﹐萬水千山繪風霜﹐
如此星辰如此夜﹐為誰歸去為誰來。

走遍很多不同国家，终于体会了见山还是山．
蘆山煙雨浙江潮﹐未到千般恨不休﹐
即至到來無一事﹐蘆山煙雨浙江潮。

人老了就有不一样的境界．
昨日是：
清泉入俗流﹐知心何處尋﹐
一啸驚天地,　举杯谈风云．
今天是：
清流本是水，知音何须尋
今朝空名利﹐天涯處處家。

until that day comes .....

Since I published the Little Mermaid story, some friends have asked if I m really a gay right advocate, or even "are you actually gay?"

Well, technically the whole human population has certain degree of homo and hetero sexuality at the same time. Its all about the magnitude of them. Majority of the population has very high degree of heterosexuality and makes homosexuality a minority. Hence comes the discriminations and divine condemnations from HE who lives in heaven. they are different sides of the same coin, although the hetero side comes up much more often than the homo side if tyhe coin is flipped.

Anyway, to cut it short, I belong to the majority group of the population, i.e. I prefer female than male. but thats not what I want to write.

when women's right was still a hot debate eons ago, someone famous (I only quote the famous and well known, who listens to ordinary Joes and Janes anyway) had said "Women's right IS human right" and of course he received applaud, thats for being famous.

Today, I would like to say "homosexuality right is human right, minority right is human right, disabled right is human right, mentally challenged right is human right"

in fact we can expand the list to cover any group of human beings who are systematically being discriminated due to their difference from the "majority & normal" human beings, which they can't change.

If human race can go beyond this, the list can be expanded to cover "Animal rights" and "all living being rights".

"Human right" would become a outdated term which could be replaced by "Living right"

If that day comes, we can all throw away the religion scriptures and live peacefully on earth and the universe.

But until that day comes......

Now we can all go back to our corners, pray as usual and get our guns and bombs and tanks ready. killing people who pray to a different invisible figure is not crime and you might get red carpet welcome at the pearly gate, if you arrive at all.

Good day.

How Singapore got its name

This is a real history that nobody wants to recognise.

the old name of Singapore was Temasek (Tamasek). The actual spelling is not known as it wasn't spelt with Romanised characters.

But a about 2 -3 hundred years ago, it was changed to "Singapura". for the better educated ones, "Singapore" is the "englished" name during colonial time. "Singapura" is the original name.

Not everything spelt in English is the original, just as "Thailand" is NOT pronounced as "Thai-land". Its pronounced as "Tai-land". and IRAQ is not pronounced as "Ai-Rak", Mr Bush.

Anyway, how did this name came about?

forget about what the history book tells you about a prince from Sumatera who saw a lion on Temasek and hence changed its name to "Singha-pura" which means "lion city" in Sanskrit.

Too many errors in this story.

1. there was never any lions in that part of the south east asia.

2. Prince from Sumatera spoke Sanskrit?

3. there was already natives living on Temasek (thats why it had a name), so s visitor could just declare a new name?

The real story is like this: drum-drum drum

Temasek was a very busy trading port back then. There were a lot of Indian muslims from southen India who sailed there to trade with the native Melayu.

They were close friends.

One fine night, as usual they chilled out at the local pub aka the road side shed, drinking todi (liquor from coconut juice). after a few drinks, they made a bet to see who had a bigger dick.

and well, the Indians won the bet but the Melayu felt insulted.

so they gave the Indians a good beating.

the next day, after sobbering up, they realised that the Indian didn't stop at their port anymore. They all rather stopped at Melaka, a new port further north.

So, every morning, the local Melayu would wave and shouted "OOOi kawan! Singgah lah sini"

The Indians on their ships would give they middle fingers and shouted back "Poorah! Poorah!" (Get lost)

thats how Singapura got its new name and it is used till today.

Little Mermaid

To all the discriminated, oppressed and victimised people; and the sorrow, pain and misery endured.


Sharon watched as her dad dashed out of their apartment in real hurry after he received a call on his mobile. after the call, he pulled Sharon's mother to a side and talked to her softly. Sharon could sense the tension and the mixed emotion on her mother. Her dad's face was blank and without expression. Sharon knew something big had happened because in her 17 years of life, she had only seen that face once on her usually easy going father. That was 3 years ago when grandpa was fighting his losing battle with brain cancer. She remembered the blank, emotionaless face of his dad beside grandpa's bed. If he had feelings, he hid it well when it was over whelming.

"what is going on, mom?" Sharon asked her mother after her dad has gone.
"A friend of your dad is in hospital and he went to visit." Her mother answered.
"Who?" Sharon knew dad had many friends.
"Auntie Amie is in ICU."
Sharon was startled by the answer.

Sharon first met Auntie Amie when she was 10 years old. Her dad took her to a movie and ice cream treat after she scored a good results in her school exams. She could still remember the movie was "Little Mermaid".
when they were having ice-cream and chips, a thin lady with short hair came to their table and dad introduced her as Auntie Amie. Sharon had been shy to strangers and she was paying more attention to her sundae than the lady. At school, Sharon was a timid girl and had few friends. She would like to join and play with other girls but she was too shy to ask.
Auntie Amie stroke Sharon's hair and asked her softly "did you like the movie, Sharon?"
"Yes. I like it. I like cartoon stories" Sharon replied with her head down looking at her sundae.
"Yes. Cartoons are good. always happy ending."
"Do you know the original Little Mermaid has a very sad ending?" Auntie turned to Sharon's dad and asked.
Dad nodded.
"She had to kill the prince she loved and used his blood to break the spell and to transform back to mermaid. you can't change to who you are not. even in fairy tale"

Auntie Amie had also come to their house a few times and Sharon later found out she was in the same secondary school as her dad and mom. Dad told Sharon that Auntie Amie was a very close friend when they were in school but he never told her about their stories in school.
"I was in a different class and was not closed with them in school." Mom told Sharon.

Sharon noticed mom always kept her distance from Auntie Amie although she seemed to welcome her visits.

Auntie Amie was a intelligent person with good nature and she was very kind to Sharon. She noticed how shy Sharon was and had encouraged her to come out and interact with other people. She would ask Sharon to do small chores for her such as go to the shop, make orders when they were at KFC or McDonalds, order pizza over the phone. Sometimes, she would buy gifts for Sharon as encouragements. Little things like hair pins, ribbons, socks with little flowers on them. Sharon knew she didn't earn much from her teaching and appreciated the gifts.

Auntie Amie was a family friend all these years but Sharon knew little about her background. Sharon had never seen her family and heard her mentioning about them. Auntie Amie lived alone in a rented house and taught piano and art classes at her home as living. Besides dad, she had almost no other friends.

When Sharon grew older and went through her puberty, she started to notice and was more observant to people around her. Autie Amie was not an attractive woman, she noticed. she had a square face, rough complexion and too flat.
"She is tall, thin and flat" she commented one day during dinner.
Dad looked at Sharon and said sternly
"Sharon, never ever laugh at other people on what they can't change. They suffer enough of the misfortune"
Sharon had seldom seen dad so serious.


Dad came home after midnight that day with a very worn look on his face.
"Amie passed away. It was too late. nothing the doctors could do"
he told Sharon.
Mom was crying.

Sharon couldn't sleep well that night and the little mermaid came to her. There was no cheerful colors as in the cartoon. Everything was grey. Little mermaid was stranded on a beach and surrounded by people. She had to endure the pain of transformation into a woman, the scales on her tail were coming off and were dropping one by one. red blood in contrast with the grey background. everyone around her was laughing. some of them splashed sea water onto her fresh wound and she was panting and struggling to get away from the assult.
Sharon woke up with a headache and the dream was still afresh in her head. wriggling of pink flesh partly covered with loosed scales that were falling off and the begging eyes. she could almost hear the soft sound of the detaching scales like tearing off a glued paper from the skin.

mom came into her room.
"Your dad went to take care of Amie's funeral. Nobody else cares"
"The family has abandoned Amie long time ago. a poor soul" Mom said with voice full of sympathy.
"They grew up and played together when they were kids. they were best friends and went to the same secondary school. Amin was very smart and was the top of class."
"then the change came in Form 3 when they were 15 years old. The teachers noticed it and informed the parents. The took Amin back home and I never heard from them anymore until we moved to this city and they met again. I was so surprised and couldn't adjust myself"

"mom. Who is Amin?"
"That's what we used to call Auntie Amie".
Sharon was confused but mom didn't explain further.

After the funeral, Dad and Sharon went to Auntie Amie's rented house to pack her belongings.
Sharon was going through the drawers when she found some old photos and an old ID card. It has a name "Raja Zaminudin Bin Raja Abdullah" on it. The black and white photo showed a young man with a boyish look.
"Thats was Amie's name. Amin was related to the royal family." Dad put a hand on Sharon's shoulder and said.
"when the parents found out he was behaving like a girl, they forced him to change. that didn't work. they sent him to the religion department for treatment. he was humilated and raped. He ran away and sent a letter to me asking for help. the school teacher got the letter and they caught him again. this time they sent him to mental hospital for medical treatments. He was tied to the bed and given electric shock on the head for a few months. He was a mere zombie when i visited him at the hospital. I went to her mother to beg her to help Amin and eventually she managed to bribe the doctors to release him.
He never went home after that and we lost contact until we met again few years back."

"I felt really bad for letting him down when he needed me most. what he had been through was hell.
Sharon, I was so happy for Amin as he finally walked out of the shadow and lived bravely"
"Few weeks ago, his father found out where he was and sent his men to get him. They thought he was a disgrace to the royal family and wanted him locked up forever. He got away but fearing the worst, he took his own life. He told me he would never go back and endure hell again."
"Dad, did Auntie Amie say anything before she passed away?" Sharon asked with glassy eyes.

"I held his hand and begged him to be strong.
I said to him, 'Min. u have to be healthy again. U can leave this country and be free'
he smiled and said 'I m free now'. closed his eyes and they never open again"

Wesak day festival in Melbourne

A big wesak day celebration took place in the federation square, centre of Melbourne. I was there helping one of the exhibition. some of the photos I took during the festival.

Ice cream Flavour

Ice cream is a wonderful food. It is both liked and hated by a lot of people, sometimes by the same person.

complicated, ain't it?

Well, people love its taste but hate its calories. Just like we love our spouse when they are lovely at times but wish domestic violent is not a crime when they are naggy and bitchy.

I have been wondering what would be the most popular flavour if people are allowed to create their own ice creams?

Forget about the conventional tastes like strawberry, vanila etc. Let our imagination flies for once and think out of box (or your tiny office cubicle)

The alcoholics would want "beer flavour" or "Long Island Ice tea flavour".
slightly more sophisticated (or those who want to be perceived as such) would say "Merlot flavour", "Shiraz flavour".

Most blokes would quietly wish there is "Jessica Alba flavour", Chinese blokes would wish for "Gillian flavour"
Older blokes might wish for "Sharon Stone flavour" while the nostalgians would go for "Eliz. Taylor flavour"?
but I guess nobody would want "Britney flavour" now.

the ladies would probably want "George Clooney flavour" or "Brat Pitt flavour".
Older aunties might want "Roger Moore"?

What about some public figures?

Son of Abdul Razak would like "Prime Minister flavour" but never ever offer him "Mongolian flavour". he will throw u in jail for writing a blog if you do offer him "Mongolian flavour".

Siti's husband created various "privatisation flavour" ice cream that were supposed to eat together with "Cronism" waffles. His personal all time favourite has been "ISA flavour"

Son of Laden would love "70 virgin flavour"

Son of George made one "mission accomplished flavour" ice cream but nobody else liked it.
Now he prefers "inteligence flavour" because he believes "you are what you eat". He would shoot you if you bring him "WMD flavour" instead.

Son in law would die for a "beruk flavour" but deep inside he wanted "prime minister flavour" too but didn't have the balls and manhood to fight it over with son of abdul razak.

Mr Hu would pay dearly for "human right flavour" ice cream although he hate that taste but would like to put these ice cream on display. Never, ever offer him "independent Tibetan flavour". you would disappear faster than David Copperfield.

Mr Kim has always wanted to create "Nuclear weapon flavour" but he is enjoying "freaky flavour" now.

Mr Howard is short and small, so he likes "lap doggie flavour" and would wag his tail if you offer him that ice cream.

Mr Charles is a wierdo. He prefers "Camila flavour" which is regarded publicly much much inferior compared to the "Diana flavour" ice cream that he had but dumped. well, taste is very personal so we have to respect his choice

So, whats your flavour?

The Great men came for afternoon tea

In a rare occasion, all the great men and women who had lived and gone gathered and had afternoon tea together.

After a few rounds of tea and cookies, and of course some socializing, a great man let out a sigh and said.

“I have taught my believers one of the most important qualities of human nature – LOVE. LOVE for all human being. Care for the poor and support for the deprived and oppressed. I had even taught them to love their enemies and forgive those who trespass against them.”

“Sadly, they didn’t understand the essence of my teachings. Instead of practicing what I taught, they went at great length to spread my words of LOVE by doing everything opposite of what I taught them.”

“To spread the words of LOVE, millions lives were taken in holy wars. They colonized and enslaved fellow human being. Thousands of people were tortured in inquisitions and more were burnt on stake for alleged witchery. All in the name of my teachings. The fact is I had never hurt or killed anyone in my entire time on earth.”

“Can I not feel sad?” the first great man concluded in a disappointed voice.

Other great men and women shook their heads, looking sad too.

“There ARE people starving and children suffering everyday. Instead of doing anything about that, they gather and sing once every week. How I wish there are more Mother Theresa and less evangelicals. ” added the first Great man.

Another great man stood up and said.
“My disappointments are the same as yours if not greater”
“I taught them fair and justice. I lead with good example and taught them to do what I do. I taught them to respect others beliefs and no compulsion”

“Soon after I left the world, they started to fight for who should be the leader. Isn’t that sad?’
The other great men nodded in agreement.

“They didn’t get the essence of my teaching too. Instead of practicing fair and justice I had taught them, they emulate how I dressed up and elevate the language I used as sacred. All are forms without substance”

“Similar to your believers, my believers waged wars and committed massacres to promote my teaching of fair and justice.”

“How irony.” Said another great man in a robe.
“Exactly. They even fight against themselves and everyone claims they are the true believers of my teachings. “

“For example, I regulated polygamy which was commonly practiced in my time, and imposed strict conditions on the men to marry more than 1 wife. Instead, they abuse it as an approval from me to practice polygamy”

“They claimed some cartoons ware insulting me and went on killing innocent people. When I was alive, I taught them patience. I had shown them that I wasn’t even offended when some people threw feces at me.”

The great man then turned to a bald man in robe and said.
“Your believers seem pretty peaceful. You must be happy”

The Bald great man replied.
“I have taught them the noble paths, to have righteous views. Instead they are praying to my wooden statues for protection. Some bandits and robbers carry my image with them hoping I would protect them from bullets. They burn paper money to the deceased instead of respecting and being filial to their parents. Some of my believers also claim that their way is more superior than others practiced. “

“So, no, I m not really happy”

A bare footed and bald headed great man in a white robe gave a pat to the second great man on the shoulder. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and said.
“Well, they will understand one day. Let enjoy our tea. We might have time for a cricket game later.”

“Yes. And Florence and Theresa can be our umpire.” The first great man suggested.

Whatsup? are u in?

What is the "in" things now?

What do a plain joe (or Ah Beng) need to transform him into an "in" guy and thus becomes a pussy magnet?

Some of my intensive "copy and paste" research from the internet.
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- Dressed up like Korean stars. wear full sleeves pull over even its 40C day. show off your Emporio Armani undies with low cut jeans, even you don't have a body like Beckham

- very important, dye or at least highlight your hair blonde, red, any other colors but the hair color your parents have given you. have to watch out not too much or you will end up like a private DVD peddlar.

A note of caution, you might spend hours glooming your hair, but never let the effort shows. tidiness is so yester-year. your hair has to be clean but not tidy as the menifestation of your carefree life style


- unintentionally flashing the latest electronic gadgets (e.g. iPod, iPhone, Nokia N82).

The key word here is "un-intentional". constantly showing off these gadget will make u a geek . Thats a "no-no"

again moderation is advised. too many gadgets hanging on your belt will make you an "Ah Long". thats a real turn off.

- Life style. Very important. you have to speak the lingo. tell your friends you "enjoy night out drinking wine".

Need some hard work here to learn the names of some wines and the most difficult part is to pronounce them correctly. Really hard for an Ah Beng to pronounce Frenchie names like "Mourvèdre", "Grenache", "Rolle ou Vermentinu" etc.

It is better off if you focus on Australian wines which are easier to pronounce such as "Chardonnay", "Merlot" Shiraz", and thus avoid the embarassments if the waiter can't understand your order.

It will help if you befriend the bouncers of a night spot and invest in keeping a few bottles of liquors (Chivas, XO) so that when you bring your chics back, you don't have to wait in the Q and pay "first drink fee". PAying for "first drink fee" aka "entrance fee" will automatically downgrade you to 50% of whatever your initial score was.


- Exercising men are "in" now. Join a fitness club and show up once a month just to checkout what are ongoing the events and pick up the "in" words like "Pilates", "Surya Yoga", "group fitness". remember them and use them in your daily conversations to appear cool and thus generating the attraction force of a pussy magnet. Even though the only exercise you do is channel surfing in the sofa and fart. if you don't know any fitness club, some examples here "Fitness first", "California", "Celebrity Fitness" etc etc.


Till next time

My lovely classmate

No short story this time. Just about an encounter with my "lovely" and "smart" classmate.
Well, lets skip the "once upon a time.." intro and go right in to it.

Scene: Lunch break on a sunny school day

Classmate (CM): what the matter with the protest against the Olympic torch?
Me: It the pro Tibetan activists protesting against China's violent crack down on the demostration in Tibet.

CM: What that has got to do with Olympics?Me: nothing really. but i guess its a venue to grab attentions on what their are fighting for or against.

CM: Where is Tibet? what so important about it?
Me: I think its important for a military strategy than its value in terms of resources. It on the highest point on earth and China needs it to guard it border against any invasion from the western side of its country. (well, its well known fact it means India)

Trying to give an anology,
Me: Just like why Israel grabbed the Golan Highlands and didn't want to return it to Syria after the 6 days war.

CM: Israel is stupid. They should knw that once the muslims woke up and united, the only place they can go is under the sea.

(oh oh... i hit a nerve, better backoff. ain't looking for confrontation here in school)

CM: once the Arabs in Saudi, and other middle eastern countries woke up and work together, Israel doesn't have a chance.

Maybe I will just say this bit more... u know, being a cynic all my life...
Me: Mate, Saudi really screws up in their country and policies. 50% of their population are not productive. Women can't drive or leave home without company of male relatives.

CM: Women should stay home and take care of the children and family. The western world is really screwed up today. the parents work whole day and left the children to become gangsters, drugies.

Could't stand this. had to say soemthing.
Me: Everyone should be entitled to free will. its their choice whether to stay home or work or go out. not by force....

CM: The western world is so wrong. its even not illegal for a man to have sex with his daughter. this just happened in Australia and the man wasn't even charged.

Me: I don't agree with incest and I think its not right....

CM: Its even worse, its not illegal fo a man to have sex with another man. Is it right to have sex with another man?

Hmmm... should i go on or just smile and walk away? what the heck.
Me: what 2 adults do inside their bedroom has got nothing to do others, as long as they don't disturb or cause harm to others. u have to understand that ther are more than just males and females in this world. There are people who are born with male and female bodies. its just that "definate " males and females are the majority, but other forms of sexualities do exist.

CM: I don't mean that they should be jailed but they should be treated and go back to normal lives.

Me: Homosexual is not a psychological illness. sexual preferences are born with. but then I m not the expect. so Free will mate. its up to them to decide whether to go for treatment, not by force.

CM: what is your religion and how old are you?
Me: ????
Me: I don't believe in any religion.
CM: I was watching a Christian Channel and they said "someone who doesn't know God, doesn't know anything about moral. Even I m a muslim, I agree 100% with that. At your age, and you still doesn't know that..." He shook his head like a father looking at his hopeless convict son.

Man. i was facing a moral teacher there. ready to guide me through and out of my ignorance and help me to think out of box.

Me: everyone should have the right to believe what they believe. can't force a belief on another person.

what happened next? saved by the bell and I stopped it there.
What do u think?
- women should be allowed to drive or go out without male relatives?
- homo sexuals should be hunted down and sent for treatment camps?
- if you don't know God, you don't know anything about moral?
- and you have to think out of box?

how about these:
- Men should be forced to stay home and take care of the children.
- child molestors, people who do child porno, child prostitution should be sent to detention camps
- talk to the catholic church about the covering up of child molesting cases by pastors. talk to the Ulamas who raped their own daughters
- which box? my box or you box? the

Disclaimer:
I m against the Chinese invasion of Tibet and support a self governed Tibet
I support free will and see all religions as equal, atheists and pagans included.
I strongly against incest and child prostitution.

Story from the Rain Forest

A story inspired by cause and effect in Buddhism, as well as the people in the last picture of this story

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John, the manager, looked impatiently at the workers who had gathered around him. He spoke slowly but in a firm tone with authority. “I don’t want to see blood spilt for whatever reason. This is a logging site not a temple”. He said and looked at the faces around him with a mildly tensed up expression. Mani stepped forward, looked at John and said to him, loudly as if he was making an announcement. “Mr John, this sacrifice is for the Penunggu Hutan . We have to do this every time before our logging work in the jungle to please the Datuk. So he wouldn’t disturb us and let us finish our work and leave in peace.” Mani looked around and lower his voice to a mere whisper, “The kampong folks told me the Datuk here is a Tiger spirit who is very bad tempered and ferocious. We don’t want to anger him.” John understood well that the workers were mainly from the nearby villages which had been devoted believers in all sorts of spirits and mythical beings. Not being a believer in any religion, John was known for his critical comments and skeptical attitude towards certain factions of religions. Trained as an engineer, he had his trusts in science and logical thinking. He just couldn’t let them slaughter the poor little white goat brutally. The little creature was about few weeks old and walked with a slight gait. It would come to John whenever he was around and licked his hand as if it was a little puppy. John had liked it the moment he saw the little fellow and the feeling was somewhat mutual.

“Why not you guys proceed with the offering without a live sacrifice this time? I will ask Liluk to buy some beers from the village store and everyone will get some.” Liluk was the truck driver who delivered their weekly supplies. When he sensed the strong resentment from the workers, he offered them something they can’t resist. All the workers liked alcohol drinks and beer was something they never refused. Some heads nodded and Mani led them away to prepare for the offering ceremony. Feeling pleased he had saved his little buddy; John walked back to his cabin and lied on his small bed to continue his reading. They were out in the jungle more than 100 km from the nearest city, Sandakan, and he was happy he could still enjoy many modern luxuries such as a soft bed and MP3 music. Soon he dozed off amid the fade sound of drums from the offering ceremony in a distance.

He fell down but quickly got back on his feet. “Have to get out of here” He could sense it. It was gaining on him slowly but steadily. The forest looked the same in the moonlight. He knew if he turned around now, he would see it and he wouldn’t have the courage to run anymore. He could smell the distinctive pungent odor getting stronger. A low hanging branch hit his forehead and knocked him down on his back. The forest floor was soft with a thick layer of moist composed vegetation. He got back to his feet but froze on the spot. A low but powerful growl behind him made him stunt. A sudden surge of adrenalin in his body has caused his heart beat raced to an audible level. He could feel the cold sweat bursting out from his skin but he remained still. The jungle was very quite even the insects were not heard. A second growl was longer and much nearer to him now. The pungent odor was so strong as if the air in the jungle had turned into rotting meat mixed with animal waste. He knew it was just behind him, probably just at arm length. He turned and gave out a loud scream when he saw what he was facing.

John jerked up from his bed with cold sweat all over. He looked around and found himself still in his cabin. “Its just a dream” he said to himself with a relief. He looked at his wrist watch which showed 4:30pm. Still too early for dinner although the folks at the logging site usually have early dinner since their day started early. The dream was so real and John found himself still shaky from it. The residue images were still clear and real in his head. Needing some fresh air, he decided to take a walk to the nearby stream to clear his mind. The stream was located about 500 meter from the main tent and the workers usually hanged around the clear water to bathe and to fish for fresh water prawns.

Those prawns had a big head and two intimidating pinchers. Fried with garlic and salt, they were delicious. The best part would be to peel off the shell and suck on the juicy head. John was glad that the thought of food had distracted his mind from the bad dream. There were three workers bathing in the icy cold water when he got there. “did you catch any udang galah?” John asked them, referring to the fresh water prawns. “No Mr John, not much luck today” replied Malik, a short but solid built man in his late twenties.
“You might have more luck upstream, Mr. John” Muk shouted from the middle of the stream. Muk came from a remote village and he knew the jungle like his back yard.

The thought of udang galah made his mouth watered and John decided to catch a few for dinner and he knew he had about 2 hours before sunset. “enough time to get at least a dozen or more” he said to himself. He waved at them and walked upstream along the bank. The early evening jungle was cool and pleasant. He walked under the huge trunk of trees that grew up to hundred meters, often amazed by the gigantic woods around him. “They surely don’t like us. We come here to cut them down. What a shame, these trees might have lived a thousand years but felled within hours with a powerful chain saw.” The occasional chirps from birds and insects were so soothing and peaceful. John’s mind was drifting into the thoughts of trees and birds while he walked on, passing between the huge tree trunks.

A sharp cry of a monkey alerted him and he realized he had walked away from the stream and was in an unfamiliar part of the jungle. The trees were even bigger than the primary rain forest he was familiar with. Some of the trunks were at least 5 meters in diameter and they grew closer to each other which left much smaller gaps between them. John checked his wrist watch. “6:30pm? I was jay walking in the jungle for almost 2 hours!” He was shocked as well as puzzled. It was like sleep walking while awake. The sun was almost set and the fog was starting to build up in the jungle. John was panic because he knew the jungle at night wasn't a place where a man could walk out just like that. He heard some many stories and real life incidents about people who got lost in the jungle. None of them were pleasant.

“Its funny to think about it because human supposed to come from the African rain forest a few million years ago. Yet deep inside we are so afraid of the darkness of the night and feel so alien in a jungle.” John didn’t ponder on these but he was trying to figure out his where about and the direction to get back to the site as soon as possible. The setting sun gave him the bearing and he knew he had to walk east to get back to the stream. If he could find the stream, the rest would be easy. He started walking but as the last ray of sun light was beyond the horizon and the forest fog is thickening, he knew he was in trouble.

“Should’ve taken a portable radio with me. Johnny, you an idiot” He blamed himself.

Having spent more than 2 years with the logging company, he heard enough stories about the jungle and most of them were scary and chilly when he recalled them now. He had disregarded these stories as merely folks tales and occasionally laughed at the illogical part of it. One of the stories was about a jungle spirit who didn’t leave the medium during a ceremony and actually bitten off all the fingers with his own teeth. Another was about a young man from a village who befriended a lady and was later found dead in the jungle with bite mark on the neck and loss of blood without any open wounds. John didn’t find these stories laughable anymore. He longed for the warm lights and comfort of the noise in the camp site.

“I have to stay calm. The worst that could happen is I spend a night in the jungle”. He felt his pocket and glad he still had his cigarette and lighter with him.

He felt a sudden jolt of alert. The jungle was quiet and not a single sound was heard but he sensed a sudden approach of threat. He turned and looked around him. The jungle was dark but he could still make the outlines of the huge tree trunks in the star lights above the tree canopy. Then he felt a chill deep in his spine that made his whole body goose bump. The pungent smell was filling the air. He remembered his bad dream in the afternoon. It was the same smell. John was panic. The bad dream came back to him and made his legs feeling weak.

”HELP” he yelled and started running, not knowing exactly where to run to.

The adrenalin surge had powered him to run fast. He tripped a few time but got up and ran on. He knew what he was facing and it was really more than life and death. He didn’t know how long he had run but he finally had to stop and rested against a big tree trunk, panting and feeling fatigue from the exhaustion. There was one thing on his mind, get out of there. Then he sensed it again. The jungle had been too quiet, not even the creaking of insects were present. It was as if he was entirely isolated in a land of the trees and facing the thing that was on his heel alone.

John lifted his head in alarm by a distant dull crack of a dried twig. The pungent smell was sipping through the foggy jungle air, stronger and more distinct this time. It was coming from his left. The smell was a distinctive mixture of rotting meat and animal urine, which reminded John of the foul smell of the zoo and the back lane of a wet market blended together. He lowered his body and picked up a thick branch under the tree he was resting. He knew it was useless against what was coming his way but like a drowning man, he tried to hold on to whatever he could get his hands on. He could hear the low growls as the foul smell is thickening around him. It was approaching John slowly as if a hunter would to a cornered prey, to enjoy the fear and useless struggles the prey would put up. John sensed it too. His pursuer was circling him from a distance while making fearful low growls. Backed against the trunk and a branch in his hands, John was trying to put up a last fight while yelling at the top of voice for help.

“Tolong! Tolong!” his yell sounded like a yip of a puppy in the vast forest of gigantic trees.

Suddenly, a loud growl was behind him. Before he could turn, something powerful hit him and sent him rolling in the jungle floor. The power of the swipe could have broken his neck and killed him had it landed on his head. The blow was instead a push to instill more fear in the prey. John knew it was hopeless and was lying on the ground waiting for the final attacks.

“Ting”… a soft chime of a bell awaken John, it was like a sight of land to a ship wreaked crew. A surge of hope had brought him up in a flash and dashed towards the source of the bell. He saw a dim yellow light just ahead of him and ran as fast as he could to it. Under a huge tree, in the dim glow of a yellow light, he saw an old monk in yellow robe. The old man had a small bell and a metal hammer in his hands. He gave the bell a chime with the hammer and looked up at John with a smile.

“Please help me. Please take me out of here. It is behind me” John held the monks arm and pleaded.

“calm down. Come with me”. He took John’s hand and led him through the jungle, passing between trees effortlessly.

John found he could breath more slowly and noticed that the light in the old man’s hand was a dim yellow glow that was bright enough but yet didn’t cast any shadows. It was as if the light could go around the tress and filled up the darkness with a dim yellow color. The growls and pungent smell were constantly catching up with them. The old monk would change direction if it seemed too close. They got to a part of the jungle where the trees were less dense and John could see more with the moonlight penetrating from above. He could hear his pursuer was speeding up and gaining on them. The old monk led him to a small wooden temple which was built on long stilts. He heard a loud and scary roar when they started to climb the long stair case up the temple.

The old monk stopped him from looking back. “don’t look back, keep going” he said in a soft voice.

They reached the small temple and there were 2 other old monks dressed in yellow robes inside it. They nodded and smiled at John but didn’t say anything. The temple suddenly shook and John almost dropped on the floor from the violent force.

This reminded John about a childhood experience. He was walking back from school and saw a cute puppy outside a wooden fence. The puppy was about few weeks old, cute rounded creature, yipping helplessly. He bent down and tried to touch it. He was almost knocked aback by a sudden loud bang on the fence preceded by a fearful growl. He saw a huge black Rottweiler threw herself against the wooden fence with a formidable force, again and again. No barks. Just a low yet deep, powerful and fearful growls. She was probably the mother of the puppy that wandered out through a small crack in the fence. Little John ran home and had felt shaken for a few days and avoided that path for a long time.

“It is trying to get at me” he said to the first monk with a shaken voice. His knees were trebbling in fear.

He knew the thing that was shaking the wooden temple was far more powerful and fearful than the Rottweiler he met many years ago.

“Don’t worry, you are safe here. Have some water and get some rest” said the monk and offered him some water.

John drank and sat down to rest. He felt so drained as if he had run a full marathon. Another monk came over and put a yellow robe on his shoulders. He put his palm on John’s head and recited something softly.

He said to John “May you be free from harm and danger. Now go to sleep”.

John closed his eyes and began to drift into sleep. He heard the monks chanting, chimes of bell and the occasional growls from below the temple. Everything seemed far away and detached from where he was and finally he shut down and went into a deep sleep.

“Hey, Mr John”. John was awaken by the noise and slowly opened his eyes.

He yawned and tried to stretch his back. “Don’t move. John. Just DON’T move” he heard Liluk’s voice from far and below. He looked down and saw a few workers were looking up at him with alarmed faces. Only then he realized he was sitting on a branch up in a huge tree, at least 100 feet above ground. He was wrapped in a long yellow robe which was strapped to three other branches. This formed a three-legged star that held him on the branch without falling.

The workers brought a long ladder and got him back on the ground safely. “How did you get up there? The lowest branch is at least 50 feet off the ground and the tree trunk is straight and almost smooth.” John didn’t say anything but followed them back to the camp site.

Back in the camp site, Mani came to him alone and asked quietly “I saw huge Tiger foot print on the ground around the tree and also deep claw marks on the tree trunk. It was angry and was after your blood. How did you get away?”
“Good Karma. I guess”. said John softly.

Selamat Jalan Kekasih

Something I wrote in 2006.

Believe it or not, inspired by a South Park episode!

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"Selamat Jalan Kekasih. Kau la cinta dalam hatiku.

Aku kehilangan mu. Untul selama-lamanya"

The traffic on Jalan Sultan Ismail in Kuala Lumpur City Center during the peak hours was like an endless train. The vehicles seemed strung together by an invisible chain. Indifferent to the noise and bad air around him, Hendra was staring into a boutique window facing the main road. A cream color long gown was on display. “Nita would look splendid in this” he thought. For 10 long minutes he was looking at the dress while he mind flew to secret places where only he knew. A gentle tap on his shoulder brought him back to where he physically was. The security guard politely asked if he was all right. Realizing his dirty sweat shirt and jeans were not presentable, Hendra gave a timid smile and walked away.

On his way to the bus stand, his mind switched to his saving in his bank account and the telephone conversation he had with his mother 2 days ago. He came from a middle class family and would still be at home in a small town near Jakarta if not for that incident that had changed his whole life. He would send money home for his father operation but his mother’s words wouldn’t leave him alone. “come home Hen, we haven’t seen you for 5 years. Your father is old …” he missed home and the feeling was getting stronger and stronger lately. For 5 long years, he had fought and managed to suppress it. Going back home was too much for him to handle, he knew. How could he face it?

Five years ago, he came to KL to work as a hard labor and had been working at various construction sites in this rapidly developing city. He worked hard and didn’t care much about the wages. He just wanted to go away. Far, far away from the city that had changed his whole life. Sometimes on pay day, he would go with his Indonesian friends to one of the underground joins for drinks and more. The existence of these joints were well known secret that everyone in the city knew about but chose to keep a blind eye. Drinks, pots, pills and women, all with a price tag. It had been a routine, alcohol, drugs and women. He usually didn’t choose his women and always had it in darkness. When he was touching the naked body, he mind was usually somewhere else.

On other days, he would go back to the rented place at the edge of the city which he shared with a few friends. It was all simple routine, morning, bus, work, bus, home, dinner, sleep and the next day. In fact, he liked routines because he didn’t have to think and could just follow the flow. Most of his Indonesian friends came to this big city with hopes and dreams. Like any foreign workers in a big city, they wanted to work hard and save enough money to go home and start a new life. Hendra was different from them; he didn’t care much about money and he didn’t have hopes of a future. Every morning was just another day.

Flashes of bright light, crashes of metals followed by a spinning world and screams…. Hendra woke up in a jerk. Still shaking, he found himself wet with cold sweat. It was still dark outside. He slowly got hold of himself in the quiet of the darkness. It’s the same dream, again and again haunting him for 5 long years. “I didn’t say sorry. I didn’t even say goodbye to her”. He wept in silence and covered his face in the pillow. He couldn’t face it even after 5 years. Every man has a soft spot in his heart and this is a wound that would never heal. “I didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t even say goodbye”. He kept repeating these words, as with any nights when the old memories came crashing through, like the truck five years ago.

Like any other days, he picked up Nita from the restaurant she worked at in his taxi to send her home. Nita was a Christian and her family was against her going out with a muslim man.

“Don’t worry about it Nita. We will overcome all these. Even some gay couples can work it out and live happily. So can we.” he used to tell Nita whenever she was feeling insecure and confused. He would hold her hand and gave her a kiss on the forehead to reassure, although he knew it would be really tough to do what he had said.

He had a bad day. It was a series of bad events - rain, bad traffic and hike in petrol price. When Nita showed up 30 minutes late without an apology, his blood boiled up. For the next 20 minutes, he vented his frustrations on Nita and on the gas paddle of his taxi. He didn’t see the overtaking truck from the opposite direction until Nita screamed. Everything was so fast and all he could remember was the flashes, the spinning world and Nita’s high pitch screams. He woke up in the hospital 3 days later with a broken arm and internal injuries.

“people change but memories are forever” Nita used to say. Nita had a degree in accounting and knew a great deal more than Hendra. She had told him a lot of things that he didn’t know of. She changed him but not in any interfering manner. She had never asked him to do anything against his will. She always said “Respect free will.” Through Nita, Hendra had seen the world from a different perspective. He learnt to accept differences in people and became more forgiving and adaptive at the same time.
Every word Nita had said to him replayed softly in his mind shunning all the thundering noises around him in the busy Jakarta street. “Hen, I love you very much but sometimes I wish you could have a hold of your temperament.” This was her last sentence before the dreadful accident and it was imprinted in Hendra’s heart like a red hot iron.

When his family found him, his blank and expressionless face worried them more than his physical condition. He could see and recognize them but seemed indifferent to people and activities around him. “I didn’t say sorry. I didn’t even say goodbye” he kept saying in low murmurous voice. For many days, he didn’t shear a tear or say a word to anyone but submerged in his own world where he had coffee Nita. He blamed himself for the accident, for the angry words he used on Nita and on top of all these: he didn’t even get to see her for one last time before she departed from this world, forever.
He went to her final resting place but only looked on from afar when he saw her families were there. He would never be able to face them especially her mother who had been a kind and caring elder to him. He left home and went to Kuala Lumpur soon after that day and had never returned for 5 years.

It was very noisy with the cranking of heavy machines and the occasional loud pounding of the piling rammer. Hendra was used to the labor work to the extend it was becoming almost robotic to him. Without any warning, the temporary wooden floor that he and a few other workers were working on suddenly caved in. He fell with the collapsed floor onto a lower floor. When he realized what has happened, he found himself immobilized under heavy loads. He knew he was injured badly although he didn’t feel any pain yet. Breathing was becoming harder and he was fading into the creeping darkness. Nita walked to him in her brown dress. He found himself facing Nita again. She was smiling at him but didn’t say a word. “I didn’t say sorry to her. I didn’t even say goodbye…” he dropped his head, dared not face the woman he loved. “Hen, say it now. You can say it now” Nita voice was soft and clear. “you can say what you wanted to say now. Say it now”.
“I am sorry, Nita, I am so sorry”.
“U know, I have never blamed you for what happened that night, Hen.”.
“I am sorry. Goodbye, Nita” Hendra lifted his head to face Nita. “Goodbye Nita, I love you”.
“Goodbye Hen. You take good care of yourself, for me. I love you too.”.
“Yes. I will Nita. I will”.
Voices started to register and Hendra heard people shouting around him. Slowly, he gathered his strength and called out, “Sini. Sini.” His weak voice was muted by the stack of planks and debris on him. He reached out and grabbed a small piece of broken cement and started tapping the floor. The sound finally caught attention and footsteps started towards him. He blacked-out again before they got to him.

Hendra opened his eyes and found himself lying in the bed of a hospital room. The room was almost colorless in blindingly white, the wall, the bed sheets, the uniform of the nurses, the patients’ garment. The only color in the room was the hair of the people in the room. he knew he would survive despite the pain and sore in his body.
He smiled “Ma, I am coming home.”

The Chosen Race

The whole town was excited about the news. Even the Elders halted their meeting after their prayers to check out the validity of the news by themselves. It was hard to believe that the news was real and not a mere hoax. After so many generations, it had almost become a folklore even fable and the younger generations just didn't care about it anymore. To the elders and some strong believers, this was described in the holy scripture, not just once but many time, and thus it must be a truth.

Mali followed the crowd moving toward the communal gathering spot. There were already a big crowd surrounding the spot and everyone was trying to squeeze through to get closer to the building. Mali could sense the excitements and anxieties among the crowd. Every adults were aware and taught about it by their religion teachers; but to witness the very existence in front of their eyes was something too much to accept within a short time. However, curiosity was prominent and has overcame the warning given by some Elders about it.

A few Elders were standing in a circle beside the massive trees that form the main entrance of the communal gathering spot, reciting prayers with their eyes closed and each holding a Holy scripture. The spot was heavily guarded and the crowd couldn't get through. The voices from the excited crowd has become a loud buzzing noise, amid the low but clear prayers from the group of Elders.

It was too warm inside the crowd, Mali squeezed through out of the crowd and found a few of his friends talking in low voices and promptly joined them.

“Is it real?” Mali asked Nila who was the oldest among the group.
“Who knows for sure. Our Holy scripture talks about it in many passages”
“It will bring big disaster to us. Not a good sign. Not at all” said another friend with a sad face.
“We have to please The All Mighty and do exactly what is said in the scripture, His punishment will be severe if we disobey” said Nila in serious tone.
“I have to see it to believe it” said Mali. He wasn't convinced. To him, it was a part of an old fable. There were so many things in the Holy scripture which he hadn't seen or experienced. He was one of those liberal minded young generation.
“The ground shakes and thunder roars, fire emerges from sky. So hot that the hardest hammer melts. They shall come from the ground in thousands. Not the bravest could stop them” Said Nila, “this is what the scripture says, you have to believe it”
Mali kept his silence. To challenge the scripture was unthinkable and it was also a punishable act.

Suddenly, the crowd was silent and Mali saw the head of the Elders was standing on the black rock, holding the three pointed Elder's rod, the symbol of most sacred next to the original Holy Text which was lost many generations ago.

“My fellow believers of The Almighty. May you be blessed with His gaze and away from the punishment of Holy fire. Our chosen Elders in the past had delivered to us the words of The Almighty and they are recorded in our Holy Scripture. Words that have guided us in our every existence. Praise The Almighty.”
“Praise The Almighty” responded the crowd.
“The same Holy Scripture has also warned us of the dangers and has taught us how to deal with them. Praise The Almighty”
“Praise The Almighty” responded the crowd.
“The same Holy Scripture has described of a demon race, a devil race, so evil that it dares to defy The Almighty. Save us from the devil, Almighty”
“Save us from the devil, Almighty”
“A group of young brave hunters, went far beyond the mountains and came back with a news. They have seen the Devil. They have captured a devil and brought it back. Praise The Almighty. This is yet another sign from The Almighty that we will overcome and defeat the demon race, as it is said in the Holy Scripture.”
The crowd erupted into a loud buzzing noise. Some looked surprised and most were saying prayers as if to defend against the Devil.
Mali tried to hide his disbelief and showed little emotion. The belief in the existence of a demon race and the eventual war against it had provided unity for many generations, as well as unquestionable powers to the Elders.

“To demonstrate our unquestioned obedience to The Almighty, as well as our determination to defeat the demons, we shall consume the captured devil with Holy fire. Praise The Almighty”

Excitement were in the crowd once again. A public consumption with Holy fire had not been seen for a long long time.

The Holy fire was prepared by a few Elders as only the Elders were blessed with the knowledge to do it. A small circular stone wall was built and the Elders were working within it with the sacred rocks which were kept secretly inside the temple of the Elders. The temple is a sacred and holy place off limit to everyone except the Elders. Death is the only punishment for any trespassers. The Elders were busily working inside the circular stone wall and the crowd was sitting around it from a far distance. Most of them were reciting the prayers with their heads down. Occasionally, a few will throw a quick glance at the circular stone wall as if to find out what the Elders were doing but yet didn't want others to catch them spying the Elders.

After a while, a tall pale green flame appeared from the center of the stone wall. The heat could be felt by the crowd sitting furthest away from the stone wall.
“The Holy Fire is ready” one of the Elders went to the head of the Elders and bowed.
“Bring out the devil”
The crowd moved back in horror and some even tried to run away.
It was the unthinkable, unspeakable and ugliest thing they have ever seen.

It was tied tightly on a pole before the pale green fire.

The head of the Elders was saying prayers.
“Praise The Almighty. We are made in His image and resemble His Holiness. Say out loud, how do we look?”
“Our skin is the colour of the Holy Black River, covered with beautiful hard scales like the trees that provide us food and shelter.”
“Our face has the image of The Almighty. Two horns to symbolise His mercy and His rules. Our teeth are long and sharp so we could defeat the demons. Our eye is in the center to symbolise the One and Only Almighty. It is red to symbolise the sun that warms us. Our ears are long and big so that we can hear the Holy words clearly. One side is higher than the other to symbolise the Elders who are chosen and closer to The Almighty”
“We speak and understand the Holy language, in which the Holy Words was delivered to us”
“Our claws on our hands and feet are long and sharp so that we can hunt and find our food in the ground. Our tail is long and pointy so that we can bow down and pray to The Almighty”

“Very Good. My fellow believers” said the head of the Elders.
“Condemn the devil. How unspeakably ugly is it?”

“The devil skin is fair and soft, and covered with ugly soft short hair. The devil head has no horns, a clear deviation from the image of The Almighty. It is covered in horrible black hair.”
“The devil has two small eyes and they have disgusting hair around them. There is only One and only Almighty. How can anything besides the devil has two eyes? It has two small ears on both sides of the head. How can anything besides the devil not want to hear the Holy words clearly? Praise The Almighty”
“The devil has ugly pink flesh on the mouth and evil white small teeth. It has five long ugly fingers on each hands without the beautiful claws. This is a obvious symbol of evil.”
“The devil has no tail. It has never bow and pray to The Almighty. It doesn't speak or understand the Holy Language so even the Holy words can't be passed to it. What an evil thing”

“What shall we do with a devil, my fellow believers?”

“Consume it with the Holy fire so that its evil spirit can't fly away to form another devil and come back to hurt the race of The Almighty”

“Praise The Almighty. Praise The Almighty ....”

Mali watched with a blank emotion as the fair fleshed devil was consumed and burnt in the Holy fire, screaming with sounds that were not understood by anyone.

Socialist Alternative Encounter

by chance, i met someone on the street promoting anti-war and Palestine support when I was doing my weekly stroll in the city. they were having a 2-day seminar during the Easter long weekend. being the supporter of both causes, i felt oblighed to buy a ticket to attend the seminar, to show my support.

There were 3 speakers in the first seminar. one of them was a US veteran from Iraq and he pronounced Iraq as "I-Rack", just like Mr Bush. another speaker was a social activist from South Africa. The last one was a local politician from the Socialist Alternative.

Having no expectations, what these people presented were fresh and new to me. All went well and after the seminar, a guy with a black & white checkered cloth wrapped around his neck came and introduced himself and we started to chat. the checkered cloth reminded me of the late Arafat. it was a warm night and we were indoor, so i guess the cloth was more symbolic for a cause than for keeping him warm.

we started with the weather and yara-yara-yara, it went to politics and current affairs. he was a strong supporter of socialist movements and believed in workers demostration and strikes. talked about the 1917 Russia Revolution etc etc.
being a skeptic all my life and well known for my cynical atitude, naturally i questioned and challeged the workability of a socialist or communist country.
"can you tell me of a good example of a successful socialist country or government?" I asked him, hoping for some fresh views.
"No, there is no real socialist country in this world" he said. "the Russian Revolution was a very successful one".
"But, it didn't last long and the workers didn't even get to form government...." I reminded him.
"Thats because it was surrounded by many Imperialist countries who wanted to bring the socialist country down. They started a civil war in Russia"
From then, I realised that I was talking to someone akin a religion fundamentalist. What he believes in is perfect and the reason this perfect system didn't work was due to "enemies" who always wanted to destroy it. All sound too familiar?
Knowing I an't going anywhere further, I switched the subject slightly and asked him how does the socialist model work, government structure etc.
He paused for a while and said "the workers will take over and make collective decisions"
"HUH??" he lost me there. in my effort of getting better clarity, i gave a real example and asked him "how would the socialists manage a big corporation like TELSTRA (the biggest telecom player in Australia)"
"The working class will make collective decisions and this will benefit all the working class, not just some capitalists"
"thats fair enough, mate, but how would they manage it? who makes the decisions?"
"There wouldn't be no managers or chairman, the workers will have meetings and make collective decisions"
From that point, i knew I was talking to a guy who had no idea how the real world works. I carried on and asked him "there is a need for someone to make decisions on what to do with the network, somebody needs to get the funding to maintain the network etc etc"
He looked puzzled and said "in a socialist country, everyone is equal, even a leader will just get the same salary as a normal worker, and he can be removed anytime if we are not happy with him"
Oh boy, i could shoot this down with a dozen of simple common sense. But, his next arguement really had me speechless.
"thats how the hunter and gatherer societies work. everyone gets an equal share even the leaders"

only then i fully realised i was talking to a guy who apparently went through an alien time machine and came to the 21st century from his hunter & gatherer time.
Let see how far apart we were. counting backwards, we are now in the cyber internet era, before that was the industrial era, earlier was the farming and trading, farming, and finally hunter & gatherer. he strongly believe his socialist model will work because it worked in a hunter & gatherer society.
"what happens if there is different in opinions and no decision can be made?"
"Every sensible socialist will try their best to work out the best for the society, everyone will get equal share"
THATS a huge assumption there dude. Everyone is a sensible and responsible socialist!
what happen if you have free riders, non believers?
what happens to the artists and scientists? what about creativity?
A typical model that promotes "regression towards the mean"
Simply means everyone/everything within the model will progress to become very close to an average value. so everybody will be average Joe and plain Jane. or Ah Beng, Ah Seng, Ah Lian, Ah Hua.
no motivations to become Gandhi, Newton, Picaso etc.
But a huge resource pool to tap into for the likes of Osama, Hitler, Mao, Pol Pot.

Do you still carry on the conversation if you were me? I didn't know how to tell him "mate, you are way off" without hurting his feelings. should I bring up the great Pol Pot who was trying to transform the whole of Combodia into a true socialist country by breaking down the cities and urbans and force convert everyone to farmers & workers?

Fortunately, a few of his friends came over and I was quick to sieze the opportunity. After some social yara yara, I told them i had to catch the train to go home and left.

I was sure there's more than that in the socialist idealogy. So, I went back to attend another seminar the next day.
This seminar was about the 1917 Russia revolution. After the young energitic girl read out her presentation in fast pace, there was the Q&A session.
Lots of people raised their hands. Hmm... not bad, I thought, expecting some mind opening questions and answers.
It turned out, the people who stood up to speak didn't ask questions but instead just added on to what the speakers had presented, praising the Russia Revolution was the greatest in human history, telling us how corrupted the novelties were and how the workers were oppressed.
To be fair, most of these were correct but tell me something i didn't know. I could pick up a history book and start to complain about the corruptions in the Tsar Russia.
Finally, I raised my hand and asked the same question "how would a socialist government manage a big corporation like Telstra?"
Again, that "collective decison by workers" came out.
A smart guys added proudly and said "during the Russia Revolution, the railway workers decided how to run the trains and only transported the worker going from city to city for strikes, but refused to let the elites and novelties on board. This is how socialists work"
HUH?? Dude, we are talking about a stable country like Australia, not during revolution!
Another guy jumped in, he was the chair person, and said "I worked for Telstra for more than 15 years and I can tell you, all I did for the last 15 years had nothing to do with improving or helping the lives of the poor people in Australia. It only benefited the capitalists whose main objective is profit and profit and yara yara yara..." and guess what? the whole floor clapped. Except me of course.
then another smart dude jumped in and said "we will provide telephone and internet services to everyone in the rural areas, not like now even the people in the suburbs don't get broadband.... there will be more colaborations between the industries too... in the end, it will be collective decisions from the workers"
"so who is going to fund it?" "Telstra is a public listed company and we have investors all over the world" alas, they didn't bother with my question any more and proceeded with another guy statement on how the worker strike brought down the capitalists in Chile.

U know what, i learnt a lot about socialist and its idealogy.
In a nutshell, it is "collective decisions of the workers"
U wanna join them and work for a just and fair world? not too bad if you are a hunter or gatherer.

Blaa Blaa Black sheep

Blaa Blaa Black Sheep

Every little boy or little girl know this song, or something in that tune. “Blaa Blaa Black sheep, Have u any wool? Yes sir yes sir three bag full ...”

For many many years, I always thought sheeps and goats are the same species of animal. Well, both have 4 legs and 2 horns, eat grass, make “bleaaa” sound. Most importantly, both are called “Yang” in Chinese which my primary school English teacher told me meant “goat”. Sheep in Chinese is “Mien Yang” which techincally translates to “wool goat”. So, for many years, I always thought sheeps are goats with long and thick hair. As simple as that and I was ready to argue with anyone who thought they are different species.

Now I know they are very different creatures and belong to different species. The most significant difference is in their genes. Goats have 60 pairs of chromosomes while sheeps have only 54. They are also very different in behaviours and probably their inteligence.

I haven't had good experience handling goats. When talking to people who had goats, they always tell me it is almost impossible to keep them inside a fenced area. Goats would jump, find opennings, or even undo latches on gates to escape. This says something about their nature and inteligence.

The same can't be said about sheeps. I had the experience to work in a wool shearing shed and witnessed how sheeps behave. The shearers, strong and tough blokes, would drag the sheeps, from their over crowded holding pen, by grabbing their front legs. Then these blokes would lock one of the sheeps front leg between their thighs and start shearing. I don't think that is the most pleasant experience for the sheep. These blokes are paid per sheep and when racing against time, almost every sheep would have a few patches of their skins cut out. But guess what, most of these sheeps would just take these assults quietly and amazingly without a single “Bleaaa” nor any strong willed struggles.

Now I understand why some religions call their follower “good sheeps of the mighty Lord”. Sheeps are perfect and ideal follower. No questions, no complains, just accept authority and conform unconditionally. Yea... I would be happy to have believers like them. I could have their body and soul with a snap of my fingers without all those annoying trouble makers who question and ask for proof. Mate, you question me, u go to hell. Just believe and thats love, thats faith. How nice. World peace.

On the other hand, I think goats are non conformists. They escape enclosures, they jump fences, they survive tough environments. Headache for farmers. No wonder some religions project goats as evil, bad omen etc. If everyone behaves like this, how do the Lord saves u? You have to be a good sheep to get to heaven.

So, are u a sheep or goat?