Some days you just can't win ...

Let's shimmy

I have a thing for 60's psychedelia-inspired music and soul music of that era. In this song, I get a beautiful combination of both in a single track.



Cover versions can bomb badly; just check out the covers made by most boy bands (*shudders at Westlife*) but this re-interpretation works beautifully.

The original song is this one by Velvet Underground.

Can't talk to a psycho ...

... like a normal human being. I love this song. Poe is awesome, 'nuff said.

 

Psychopath, sociopath. Tomayto, tomahto. *shrugs*

People who do this to me are dead in my flist. Dead I tell ya!

I am sure you know people that can be described beautifully using the above diagram. I doubt anyone has ever gone through life without entering the orbit of a sociopath. 

After all,

Right?

'tis the season to blow things up

Being a multicultural community, Malaysians of all ethnicities adopted the Chinese customs of playing with fireworks during the festive seasons. The Chinese believed that fireworks would be an awesome way to chase away demons and usher in good luck for the new year. As a child, I had delightful uncles who supplied my sister and I with all manners of bunga api and mercun to play with during Eid ul Fitr. I have even got the opportunity to see my cousin launch his meriam buluh (bamboo cannon) in a competition with the other kampung.

*Naz, you are evil for tempting me to get them pretteh explosives*

Hari raya is around the corner (another eleven days, not that I'm counting) and I am delighted to note that there aren't as many reports of children (and adults) losing eyesight/hearing/relevant body parts due to firework mishaps. Yes, boys and girls. Salts and metal oxides ignited at high temperature can be pretty to watch, but are also detrimental to your fragile flesh. Look up the gory pictures if you like.

Sixty seven years ago, Hiroshima and Nagasaki experienced a different sort of fireworks. It was not celebratory in nature and in fact, killed and maimed over 30% to 50% of the population of both cities. Little Boy and Fat Man left a nuclear calling card that reverberated until this day, as seen below.

Pretty gristly animation based on the story related by a Hiroshima survivor. Click at your own risk.

 

SAY NO TO ATOMIC BOMBS!

Of course some people would say that the Japanese army were pretty mean to other people as well. I have heard oral accounting of the horrible stuff they perpetrated in my country, not to mention stuff like the rape of Nanking, inhumane scientific experimentation, sexual slavery and so on. It is true that the Japanese army and government of the day were no innocent schoolboys.

But perpetrating atrocities on civilians are NEVER OKAY and this goes to all armed aggressors in any conflict. Once you start targeting civilians you have lost all your moral certitude and cost you the legitimacy of your struggle. Sadly, we never learn from history and continue to make this mistake over and over and over again. We abuse the free will granted to us by the Almighty and thought that we can impose our will on others on this Earth because of our military, political or economic supremacy.

The powers that be who stockpile nuclear weapons all say that they do so as a deterrent. To me it's like you have a loaded and primed gun that you point at each others' head, with your trembling finger on the trigger. Someone might sneeze and then where would we be?

Conventional weapons are horrible enough, okay?

Glassy eyed at the end of it

... and not in a good way. :p

The premise was very interesting; a young woman trained to be an assassin was betrayed and punished to work in a salt mine. How she got out of the salt mine and what happened next. The world building was very nicely done but something just kept niggling at the back of my head.

The character development. *snaps finger*

The assassin came off as a petulant girl at times; one would think that a year in the salt mine would have honed her personality to greater essentials. At the end of it, I think the characterisation is more of a self-projection of the author, but with cool scenario. It was acknowledged that the story was written when the author was sixteen; so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

The story was interesting but the plot development is rather wishy washy. Too much attention on personal angst and reading books, not enough on the King's Champion competition and the deaths of the competitors. Her whiny-ness made it kinda tough for me to buy that she's such an awesome assassin what can win easily cos she's been trained since she was 8. Two important male characters vying for her attention; shades of Twilight? I think if the characters were not imbued with so much contemporary teens' sulkiness (for all three characters), I may like this book better.

But that's just me.

There were hints of back story and apparently, e-novellas to expand the story are available. This is just Ms Maas' first book. Perhaps she'll be a stronger story teller in her subsequent novels.

Male protagonist(s): 2/5 stars
Female protagonist: 2.5/5 stars
Storyline: 3/5 stars
Pacing: 3/5 stars
Fun Factor: 2/5 stars
Repeat Reading Factor: 1/5 stars

Population control.

Oh dear. I've always wondered whether the alien method of propagation is viable on their home planet. Such a large parasite ...

Prophylaxis is the key here, people.

Foolosophy

My reading philosophy?

If you like it, read it.

Don't matter if it is a website manual, manga, romance, self help or porn.

I don't believe in censorship, but age appropriateness is important. On the other hand, I started reading romance novels (Mills & Boons and Loveswept, mind you) when I was 11.

Heh.

Midweek *ahem* & giggles

But ... I love spiders!

Duh. *rolls eyes*

C'mere, sexy!

There are millions of English teachers on the Internet, that's why.

The rest undercut for tak senonoh-ness. Beware that it may affect your Ramadhan performance, hehehe.

Midweek giggles

Let me sing you the song of my people.

This is why God invented the fasting month.

What not to do.

AAAARRGGGHHH!

*Head desk*

Evolve!

A few Sundays ago was Father's Day. Yes, I know, a little stale, but DON'T JUDGE ME. My sister and I cooked something a little special for lunch and invited my aunt and her family over for food-and-lepak. Our favourite past times combined.

No, no food picture. What's the point of my showing you pictures of food you can't eat?

And this did not happen either.

Suffice to say that the briyani, tandoori chicken and beef kebab are no more. There was probably a sliver of a giant profiterole stuffed with lemon custard and tinned mandarin oranges in the fridge, but I'm not so hopeful. My aunt supplemented the meal with roast chicken, cold potato salad and pudding. Ah, post prandial slothness are the best.

But I digress.

On Parent Day (be it mother or father) you would see the Sunday specials crammed with wonderfully heart warming stories about people and their parents. Those are good stories to reaffirm and remind you of your good fortune (or misfortune) in the fickle fate lottery that gets you your parents.

Or got your parents you, in my case. *shrugs*

When we were young we thought of our parents as some kind of magicians who make things happen. They knew everything there is to know in this world too! They could fix everything! 

And then you become a teenager and you roll your eyes at everything they say and claim that they're old fashioned and know nothing. Serves you right if you are a parent to teenagers now. Karma bites.


Some people grow distant from their parents when they enter boarding school or university. With all the demands on our time and the things that we chase to achieve, many of us don't have time to connect with the people who made our existence possible. So the lack of contact time may mean that your relationship with your parents will either wither or remain stagnant. Which could make things uncomfortable when a conflict arises, be it over money, or even Manchester United. 

We also tend to take our parents for granted, thinking they'll always be there, always be the same. We don't think of them as a person of their own right. Your parents were someone else's son or daughter, brother or sister, friend, enemy or the dreaded boss, before, during or after you came into their lives. They had a different set of experiences that are no less meaningful, enriching or even traumatic like yours. They know happiness and unhappiness without your presence. So what made you think that whatever it is that they do or don't do is all about you? 

I am glad that my Mom told me bluntly that a mother does not necessarily have to love her children, when I was about eight. No, it wasn't that traumatising, especially through the filter of time and experience. She told me that when I was whining at her to do something for me when she was super busy. And when she demanded why does she need to do it for me, I innocently and manipulatively replied that she MUST do it for me because she's my mother and she loves me. Ha. That'll teach me.


I believe that our relationship with our parents have to evolve as we grow older. Of course, evolving in your relationship with your Dad doesn't mean that you go alpha taking over on him. Being friends with your mother doesn't mean that you need to tell her all your youthful indiscretion when you know that it'll ignite fireworks that will rival the shopping centres' New Year extravaganza. 


Look at your parents through the lenses of love and acceptance. If you could tolerate the friend who always whinges about his/her job/girlfriend/boyfriend/whatever, why can't you spend some time just listening to your parents share about their physical discomforts that came with age or infirmity? 

The Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) often said that the best of us are the ones who are the best with their parents, with mother getting the lion share of devotion. I am not saying that we should all become automatons that agree with everything your parents say and do. That is just not manifestly possible. Just treat your parents like a person and not just your father and mother. Assert yourself firmly and courteously that you are an adult and that you appreciate their willingness to accept this change. Also, accept that no matter what, you are still their precious baby; my Dad still paces the floor when I get home after 10 pm (do I even have a curfew at this hoary age?).

I also know that a number of people had suffered a terrible childhood because their parents are damaged people (we are all damaged to a certain extent, but you have to measure the coping mechanism here). Does that mean you should turn away from your parents? No. You can choose to distant yourself from them; kind of like divorce, or you could be the better person and treat them better than they treat you. And even if your kind gestures are rewarded with heaps more of abuse and unkindness, it is all right. Remember, you control your behaviour, but you cannot control theirs. As long as you maintain what is right, it is up to them to respond appropriately or inappropriately. Your patience and grace will be rewarded, as God often mentions in His books that He loves the patient ones who face their challenges with forbearance. Even if you don't believe in any God or have no faith system except the UN Human Rights Charter, trust me that being the better person will enrich your life more than allowing your bitterness and resentment to poison your heart.

Remember, your parents aren't perfect. They are human. They are flawed. They made mistakes.

Don't judge them too harshly. Because this could also happen.