The State Of Our Nation's Creativity

Creativity comes from a conflict of ideas.

-         -  Donatella Versace

Aside from the fact that some of us may be astounded by such a profound quote coming from the heavily -botoxed lips of Ms. Donatella, it does sort of have an ironic ring to it when you think about it especially considering Malaysia’s current state of affairs.

I would rather not expunge my thoughts on how creatively impinging our country’s socio-political environment is, especially when any conflict of ideas is either shunned upon or beaten to a pulp with a baton. But there’s this nagging feeling inside of me that Donna may be right after all, despite her taste in designing men’s clothes. But what are the proofs of this? In hindsight, some of the most creative ideas really were born out of conflict.

Tiger Beer capitalised on the never ending conflict of warring tribes of BPL supporters in KL by organising one of the most continuously successful and beer-filled annual campaigns in Malaysia by harnessing conflict into drunken camaraderie, and a chance to ogle at scantily-clad beeristas (I came up with that one myself, teeheehee).

One of the most creative forms of music, rock and roll, was derived from racial and religious conflicts in the ‘50s, where this form of music was once even called the Devil’s music. And today, rock and roll has given birth to some of the most creative minds in music. Heck, even conflicts within rock and roll has spawned splinter groups from heavy metal, white rock, death metal, speed metal, emo rock, grunge etc.

Peter Parker was conflicted by Uncle Ben’s death and decided to be Spider-Man. A web-slinging, web-shooting vigilante. Who would’ve thunk it?

Opposing political parties in Selangor were conflicted and now we get free water. A creative move to win the hearts and minds of voters.

Are we having western or Asian for dinner tonight? And voila, Domino’s offers you a Spicy Sambal pizza.

Think the product is shite? Out comes the best ad campaigns for the world to be satiated.

So how creative are we as a nation you may ask? With all the conflicts that we’ve been seeing, hearing and shouting about, I would say by right we should be a really cracking creative bunch by now.

Maybe we are, but we probably settled somewhere in between public butt exercises and making the tarik in space.

Labor Day 2012

The Evolution of Work

Since the beginning of time, mankind has been cursed to never be able to walk on God’s green earth without the burden of work. Even theological history dictates that our very being in this realm was merely a form of punishment with a life sentence that reads : Lifetime imprisonment, with no parol until….Armageddon. Evicted from a potential life of bliss in heaven, to serve time until time immemorial.

And so it began with our first batch of ancestors who had little else to do but figure out a way to eat, sleep, procreate and survive. Market demand was quite basic, and supply was abundant. And there began the set up of the first 2 departmental positions known to man. Hunters and gatherers. The Job description was simple, focused on specialised. Of course this was also the beginning of the term “being pigeon-holed” as there was not much room for interdepartmental secondments. Unless of course a decline in hunter personnel due to the basic occupational hazard of being eaten alive by a Velociraptor.

Fast forward to the dawn of enlightenment in ancient Mesopotamia and by this era, choosing your profession was next to impossible, as ancient Mesopotamian or Sumerian Kings dumping you into lame positions like ‘giant rock puller’ or ‘sacrificial lamb’ and sometimes, if you’re lucky, the princess’ eunuch. The concept of a decline letter was unheard of, since the head of affairs usually hold the trump card of being proclaimed God On Earth For All Eternity.

During the Middle Ages, we started taking the work-life balance to an extreme level whereby your lifestyle (or religion for that matter) literally dictated on whether you land a good job, or whether your whole village gets burned down to the ground. Word also has it, that it was during this time that predicated the origin of the term “it’s my head on the chopping block”. Somewhere in Spain, the first Domestic Inquiry concept was introduced with outstanding results, known today as the Spanish Inquisition.

And so we trudged along through the Great Depression, a couple of World Wars, the rise of agrarian communities and the dawn of commercialism. At every step of the way with less physical burden on the common individual, leaving more to gain and much more to lose. The 70’s provided a brief moment of communal freedom of spirit and soul, but alas, only for a brief moment.

Today, as we look back at the concept of man’s relationship with the universe, we can’t and should not help but wonder if it all’s starting to make sense. The idea of savouring the fruits of our labour seems to be hugely disconnected and most times, we don’t even have the time to savour the fruit, since we’re so caught up labouring away for God knows what at the end of the day.

So what’s Labour Day to you then, my friends? If you start treating it like an annual conjugal visit within your life sentence, then you surely have gotten it all wrong, and perhaps, lost the plot. As for me, I’d take it with a pinch of salt and spend the day working on my ultimate master plan of how to stop working and start living, period. 

And while I’m at it, avoid going to KLCC or any malls for that matter. 

Earth Day 2012

Happy Birthday, Mom!

While Malaysia struggles with its NEPs, NKRAs, GTPs and ETPs, China’s 5-year plan which was launched in 2011, included the KPI of controlling the weather to artificially increase rain and precipitation in China by 10% by the year 2015.

Where do we draw the line, you may think. Is it wise to tamper with the old lady? Harnessing nature’s energy was relatively OK for Mother Nature, since it’d be just like dating the nerdy kid to get your project paper submission done on time. Things like taming wild, hormonal river tides to create electricity for us, capturing solar energy to generate virtually limitless power. Yes, we certainly got that far and it was A-OK, tree-hugger certified wholesome goodness for mankind.

But what if you start screwing around with the whole system then ey? Are we worthy of nudging her over to ride shotgun while we take the stick in the driver’s seat for a while? Sure, we’ve already been screwing with the system ages ago what with plastic bags, cigarette butts, oil spills etc. But those were sort of like running around the house with a football and knocking over a vase or something. This however, the desire to control the weather, or North Korea’s nefarious plan to pull the moon out of its orbit, or even cloning. Now that’s more like an armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon.

If Mother Nature was really a woman, we jolly well wooed her, married her and ended up pimping her for the whole neighbourhood to have a go.

But maybe that’s why we’re going through such crazy PMS-like rage in the past few decades. Hurricanes, tsunamis, volcanoes and not to mention weird stories like a pack of monkeys attacking a minister in India until he falls to his death from his balcony. Weird right? I know. She. Is. Pissed.

Since hell hath no fury such as a woman scorned, I’d be steering clear and way from her PMS induced rampage for now and the future. I could feel like she’s watching as I decide where to flick my ciggie butt to, or where I was going to put that empty can of coke, either in the dumpster or a recycling bin. Because nowadays, it’s like Mother Nature repays you back in cash, just like a pack of monkeys coming out of nowhere and literally backing you into a corner to your death.

Other interesting wraths by the old lady also includes:

·         In 1783 an Icelandic eruption threw up enough dust to temporarily block out the sun over Europe. Like one of her no-touchy-feely-until-you-know-what-you-did, mister episodes.

·         About 20 to 30 volcanoes erupt each year, mostly under the sea. Like stealthy, didn’t-know-it-until-its-too-late PMS.

·         American Roy Sullivan has been struck by lightning a record seven times. And just like foolish Roy, we still come back for more.

·         About 30% of Christmas Island is now owned by Yellow Crazy Ants, known to take up to 3 square meters of ant hill turf per day. They got there accidentally when some of the decided to hitchhike on a truck to the island. Like when she assumes total domination after getting a copy of “our” keys to the apartment.

So as we celebrate Earth Day this month, let us not only reflect on saving cute dolphins, or planting a tree with your neighborhood celebrity minister in front of the press. Let’s celebrate the true meaning of Mother Nature’s maternal instincts, and womanly fury. 

Yet Another Day That's All About Her

Leo Tolstoy once quoted. “When I have one foot in the grave, I will tell the whole truth about women. I shall tell it, jump into my coffin, pull the lid over me and say, 'Do what you like now”

Truth is, men know exactly how they feel and think about women. The difference is, we know when to keep our mouths shut. Probably that’s why good ol’ Leo decided that his last hurrah would be a long list of advice for the betterment of his remaining brotherhood, with a really good exit plan for the whistleblowing.

So it’s International Women’s Day on March 8^th. A day when all of men-hood will stop and shout to the heavens, passive aggressively of course, “Wait! Do I have to get her a gift for this one too?” One may wonder whether it’ll ever be enough. From Birthdays, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Anniversaries, Engagement parties, Baby Showers – there is always another occasion and reason to stop, look, listen and appreciate your woman for what she is, who she is, and all the sacrifices that she has done for you.

But hold your horses, ladies. The history of International Women’s Day started back in the early 1900’s, when angry undergarment workers went on strike for poor working conditions and low wages. They were fighting for equality in fair treatment and wages just like other men were.

Women have come a long way from burning bras. Nowadays, they’re either secretly and gleefully buying RM500 frillies from Victoria’s Secret online, or finding any excuse not to wear one. It’s a different ballgame for both boys and girls out there now. We walk a fine line between male dominance and female equality in these troubled, confusing times.

Julianna Mendelsohn from Chicago wrote to Esquire online that “Sometimes we want to be treated like a princess, and sometimes we want to be treated like a sex object. It’s up to you to know when, ‘cause I sure won’t be the one to tell you.”

Just like those times when they won’t tell you what’s wrong (Nothing).

Just like those times when they don’t really want to know how they look like in those jeans (Or they don’t really want to know what you really think of how they look like in those jeans)

Or like those times that they won’t tell you what today is and what you should have remembered today is.

There are a lot of things that remains unspoken yet universally expected to be understood. It’s a tug of war between men and women that we just so lovingly and willingly participate in, and fall for time and again. For women it’s like finishing a checklist successfully and being pleased with herself. For men, it’s like frolicking in a picturesque field, filled with fire ants and rabid prairie dogs. Such is the magnetic pull of a woman.

She is woman, hear her roar. And on the 8^th or March, they roar in unison. To be heard silently, just as she has when she keeps to her side of the bed and mumbles “Nothing” when you asked her what’s wrong.

So hats off to Tolstoy for sharing whatever he could have before he cowardly jumped in and nailed himself safely from a woman’s scorn. Smart man, that one.  And after this article, I may need to think of setting up a new email account and a new identity while I’m at it.

Happy Women’s Day ladies!

Kickin' It Old School On V-Day

Since 2012 is the ominous year of the ancient Mayan prediction of the end of the world, then by all means this last Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be the standard conventional, pansy-ass, poofter of an event we men succumb to every year.

Maybe this year, my brothers, we should revisit the true meaning, history and origin of this blasphemous event, and go back to our roots of this obvious conspiracy against men-kind.

When contacted (via time machine), Claudius II (Roman Emperor, 270 AD) has this to say, “Back in our time, I did what I had to do and decreed that all young, able bodied men shouldn’t get married. Why? ‘Cause I knew better! And yeah, I also needed committed fighting machines to send to war who didn’t have to worry about writing love letters every night or call their bloody wives all the time! But did anybody listen? NooOOOo. Then that bloody Bishop Valentine had to go and performed secret weddings behind my back. 2 Ceasers later, the Roman Army was reduced to sagging masses of abused husbands and that was the fall of the Empire as we know it.”

Another (anonymous) respondent (circa Middle Ages) wrote in to say, “Back in our time, single men and women drew names from boxes to see who we get to hook up with. Not only did we have to wear their names on our sleeves for 2 weeks, we also got to get our groove on and not be frowned upon! Back then, it was the start of what you people now call swinging! Groovy baby yeaaaaaaaa!”

Digging a bit further, Kilgoran The Hunter (circa Ancient Rome) sent an email to explain how it all actually started, “Flowers and candy and candle-lit dinners? Maaaan have you guys got it bad! If you guys really have to know, this whole thing was called Lupercalia back in my day. It was a day when we feasted on mountains of food and alcohol, get freaky on the dancefloor in front of our huge bonfire, and fornicated with anything with a skirt on (or sexy wolf-pelt, which was the in thing then). All in the name of honouring our Pagan gods. So…yeah. Sorry, chaps”

So how did it ever get to where we are right now, brothers? When did it turn into pink cards and chocolates in boxes and set dinners at TGIF? Are there feminist conspiracies abound? Do Hallmark and Memory Lane actually control the social order of our planet for the past 100 years? Were they also responsible for Anniversaries too?

Somehow, everything that used to be manly about this day has been hidden, distorted, ignored, wiped out of our history books (or not shown on Discovery, or downloaded as an app, since most of us may not know what a book is nowadays). So much so that nearly all men-kind have never heard about the truth, the real truth and nothing but the truth.

That Casanova bought himself chocolates to make him virile so he could do as many chicks in a night. Nowadays we buy goddamned RM250 Patchi chocolates just to try and get laid.

That in medieval times, girls were fed bizzare foods on St. Valentine’s day so that they get so baked out of their brains in order to dream about future husbands in their sleep, and ultimately wake up the next day attacking the first person with a schlong to satisfy their urges.

If something did happen along the way, it sure wasn’t in our favour chaps. So I leave it to your imagination on how you’d want to approach what may very well be, your last Valentine’s Day this 2012. Who knows, your woman might like your new barbarian-like approach when you whisk her onto your shoulder and kick it old-school, Lupercalian-stylee with nothing more than a good stack of ribs and a six pack of San Miguel.

But just in case, send her flowers in the morning from blooming.com.my anyway. Cause you never know, those damn Mayans could be wrong…

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Objects in the rear view mirror...

…may appear closer than they are. Sort of an apt saying to kick off the new year. Looking back, we had one helluva year in 2011 didn’t we? While the past was touted more as the year of the “leaks” (Assange, BP, Chef Riz’s resume) 2011 was more a tale of change, and those awkward moments when most of us would go “Hooray!” at first, “Ermmm” in the middle and unfortunately “Uh-oh…” towards the end.

Ousted Mubarak? Awesome. In it’s place is a shaky government, not knowing really what to do as they’ve been sitting around listening to the old geezer for the past 3 decades.

Found Gaddafi in a ditch? Rejoice! Now the 3^rd largest oil reserves are up for grabs for the next big thug to pillage.

Kim Jong Il died? Gom Bae (cheers)! Now we have his son in his place with a more illin’ haircut and probably a bigger bloodthirst for pulling the moon out of its orbit and hide it in North Korea.

Osama? Let’s not go there, shall we.

Truth is, 2011 was a year that had us sitting on the edge of our seats, jumping up to celebrate on occasion with short bursts and squeals of victory, and then watched in horror as the enemies scored an equaliser into the net every time in response.

Closer to home, KL city saw the promising start of an integrated, connected sky walk system being constructed, linking major shopping malls to…err, major shopping malls. Perhaps this is a precursor to what we can expect to happen during the next rainy season as we watched in horror when Kajang was half submerged in floodwater. Even Jalan Tun Razak wasn’t spared of flooding, but at least for the first time, there was an actual, physical reason that caused a traffic jam on Tun Razak.

We won the Tiger Cup, but we lost to Singapore for the World Cup qualifiers.

We launched a new Proton, and it looks like a Mitsubishi again.

The future always looked so promising back in 2011. But when we finally get there in the present, we end up checking our receipt to see if we’re actually paying for what we ordered before.

So let’s try to approach 2012 a bit more cautiously, I say. Avoid spasming into premature ejaculation the minute we think we’re gonna get laid.

That one night stand you were working towards might end up in a long term psychotic relationship.

Happy New Year!

2012 ReSOULutions

2011 was like a bad girlfriend for me. One that didn’t put out much or wouldn’t swallow, but still had me run around doing errands and forced me to get in touch with my inner feelings. Like a lesbianic transvestite, it propelled me to continuously roger myself for 12 months on end.

Therefore, 2012 will be touted as the year yours truly will do some soul searching. And with every other new year that comes along, a proper resolution is again needed, as a checklist of awesomeness to keep me in check. Because though you may not have noticed, I am an advocate of not just content with awesome, when I can awe-all.

So as I leave 2011 in the rear view mirror, here’s looking at the list of 30 important things I intend to achieve for daunting year ahead….

     1. Develop spidey-sense

     2. Stop ordering Pure Vanilla at Coffee Bean

     3. Try not to look like an angry gopher while cycling        uphill

     4. Add Julian Assange in my FB friends list

     5. Guess the name of Samsung Galaxy S II’s replacement model (Galaxy S IV? Galaxy S XII?)

     6. Become a YouTube singing sensation

     7. Catch a snatch thief

     8. Invest in a new BB….without buying a fancy cover for it

     9. Stop checking under hotel beds for dead corpses

     10. Get a Licence to Grill

     11. Master the art of jiggling my pectoral muscles

     12. Buy a samurai sword umbrella

     13. Memorise a Pitbull rap song

     14. Sing in my own voice when karaoke-ing

     15. Learn a more macho way of shooing a rabid dog from chasing me while cycling (in 2011 the benchmark was a frantic, gasping “Hoish! Hoish!”, scissor-kicking while trying to pedal with one leg)

     16. Learn how to dive head first into a swimming pool….gracefully.

     17. Stop verbally threatening my belly before doing sit ups at the gym (You gon’ dieeee mafakah!)

     18. Accept the fact that the perfect porn movie does not exist on BitTorrent

     19. Delete Foursquare app from phone

     20. Stop secretly watching Keeping up with the Kardashians

     21. Read a book when NOT taking a dump

     22. Realise that shaving pubes does not make me look like a porn star

     23. Learn to flip food in a frying pan

     24. Stop saying “Dunhill Lights 20 satu!” when buying ciggies

     25. Finish all levels of “The Biggest Loser” on my XBOX 360

     26. Learn to bowl like a man and spin that ball, b!tch

     27. Pop my knuckles without wincing in pain

     28. Stop inspecting freshly cut toenails and wondering how the corners turned green

     29. Learn to love taugeh

And last but not least…

     30. Stop writing nonsense to try and make sense of nonsense.

So here’s to a hectic wedding schedule for the 20^th of December 2012, as come 2013, there’ll be no more nonsense of “that cool wedding date” for people to antagonise their families and friends with. Now that, is something I’m definitely looking forward to for 2013!

Stay safe, stay whimsical and stay true to yourself, mafakahs. See you on the other side!