Archive for August, 2010

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Posted: August 31, 2010 in Uncategorized

Photography has become one of my most favorite pasttimes EVAR. Me and my little digital nikon 8.0 mp have been through a lot, such as that one time I dropped it in the toilet bowl and had to fish it out.
But that is a tale for another day.

I really wanna learn to get epic at taking pictures, though I’ve been told I’ve evolved with practise. On popular demand, here’s some of my stuff below (apologies to your bandwidths in advance!)… so honest opinions pls, and some constructive criticism from the pros out there in the blogosphere with the posh SLRs and all.

Omg I want an SLR so bad, almost as much as I want a pet monkey in a tiny monkey sweater.  

Anyway, here:

bridesmaids gown

asshole calling

maduganga

the 3 elements

girl in the yellow dress

mirissa boys

morning dew

cupcake

red

Kryptonite kill u.

Posted: August 30, 2010 in Uncategorized

Superman’s one big fear and weakness. A handful could send him to his knees and five or six handfuls could knock him unconcious.

I’m not really afraid of many things and have been impassive for the most part – some people point and shout at snakes, I think their freaky alienish bodies are cool, some scream at cockroaches, I just think they’re disgusting, some cry at the sight of clowns, I just think they’re creepy and I’d hit one with a bat if it got too close. Pedos are scary but I’d tazer one as opposed to running for mummy.

Then one day it struck me – something that got my hands all cold and clammy, made me feel weak, my pulse raced and my eyes widened, and I’m all..

  

My kryptonite. Is hate. o_o

Yeah I know what you’re thinking, oh so YOU ARE a carebear, I fuckin knew it!
I dunno man, but ever since I recognized my behaviour this morning after a college mate lashed out at me for not ‘acting the way I’m supposed to’ (we’re supposed to get internships this year and I haven’t  bothered yet), it’s all coming together now. It got ugly, with him getting personal and taking shots at who I am, and it lasted for about eleven hours. I died at the end. A barrellfull of kryptonite in my face.

A lot of things suddenly make sense after the revelation.
Like how freaked out I get on the inside about tiny bits of hate that people express in passing, or how I lose focus after someone says something horrible, or why the hell I cried when grumpypants called me a bitch in seventh grade cuz I sat in her seat… LOL, it is bizarre, when on the other hand I’m all ‘yo mama’s so fat’ and lol’ing at Happy Tree Friends cartoons (which is awesome btw) and totally pwning people with comebacks. People in general don’t ever see me shed a tear except in joy at the sight of cupcakes. :’)

But genuine hatred just has an inexplicable power over me, lolwut.
Stupid kryptonite, crampin my style. I did go out and buy some books and a skirt though and just like that the effects of my rival’s attempt at my life reduced drastically and I got all..  

The crazy eyes is cuz in my fit of recovery I randomly went and spent 4000 bucks.
What’s your kryptonite?

Disclaimer: this is an opinion blog so I’m entitled to my personal opinion; any ‘hippies’ who get offended, please don’t come after me and call me a corporate monster. it hurts my feelingz.   

Let me take you back in time, faithful readers, to the time of the hippies: the 60s.
Those non-hippies among you who are less educated on the subject are probably groaning and going ‘damn hippies! always huggin my trees and judgin me and my corporate life with their smelly hair and pretentious vegetarianism! I KILL U HIPPY!’

But if that’s the case your perception of hippies has been warped with time by culture and the reign of hippy posers, as is the case with most of us. Yep, most of the ‘hippies’ I meet today are annoying douchebags, there I said it.

So going back to the 60s… the hippy movement was that of a revolution. Wars and guns and talks of nucelear weapons were just emerging – and the hippies originally were, in a nutshell, people who did not want the killings and violence, and sought to fix problems, via civilized discussions that focused on love and respect. A passive resistance to opponents and a passive but firm preaching of peace in order to resolve issues.
Mohandas Gandhi was a hippy, if you ask me, though he knew how to do it way before the 60s happened.

Of course Gandhi was bald and he didn’t smoke pot.

The recreational drugs popularized by hippies were used because feelings of peace and love/respect towards others comes naturally when you’re high – muscles and the mind relax. Duh. I’m neither gonna condone or condemn it but that’s a fact. The long hair and funny clothes came with the human cultural need to differentiate a hippy from somebody who didn’t hold the same hippy ideals.

So basically, hippies, in origin, stood for something. Protests were made against violence, love and peace was preached in lectures by intelligent thinkers, and art (poetry and music) was used to preach the same values. They were on a serious mission, to change the world, hence the revolution theme of the 60s.

Let’s come back to today. There are some amazing hippies out there, visionaries of peace and innovation – except they don’t always have the ‘hippy look’ going so they’re called peace activists or whatever as opposed to ‘hippies.’ The average ‘hippy’ however who prefers being recognized as one – has long hair, a few piercings, wears natural indigenous cloths (however expensive and commercial, albeit), maybe a tattoo, reads poetry, studies art, smokes pot, says they hate war – everything fits right? Except not always. I know people who live, eat and breathe hippy culture – the superficial bits, the clothes and the words you say out loud – but when you have a chat with them, all I hear is a lot of whining.

“Oh yeaaah dude, these politicians are fucking idiots, our government is a total cesspool, urgh the system, it’s disgusting.. why can’t everyone just chill and smoke up bro? There’s your solution. Like, dude.”

Get your head out of your ass, man.

You know what real hippies do when there’s something wrong with the world? They get up and try to change it. The idea of war and unrest among people bothers them so much, being the strong believers in peace and love that they are, that they actually make an effort to do something about it. Whether it’s relevant art or protests or using the media to voice out your resistance or just talking to people about how important it is to resolve whatever it is they’re fighting about – the peace and love thing is a way of life, not a trend like bellbottoms.

“Peace, man.. like totally, like love and stuff.. that’s what it’s all about, man.. anyway, my dad’s always trying to make me go to church, what a fucking tool. Organized religion should die.. christians are like whatever, man.”

Asshat: n. when one’s head is so far up one’s ass, that one wears it as a hat.

Hippies may have a general lack of rules when it comes to living life – but as intelligent people who want peace and love, showing disrespect towards and insulting other people’s lifestyles, however different from their own lifestyle, is an obvious contradiction. In hippieland, see, everyone is equal – everyone is different, but everyone deserves love, for the sake of forming bridges between the different types of people.  

I’ve met plenty of modern day ‘hippies,’ though, who I gotta say, are bitter and hateful. Sure, there’s use of the words ‘peace’ and ‘love’ but when it comes to showing it, they fail. There’s a pretentious demeanor in the way they express their beliefs that says ‘I’m right, you’re wrong’, an antithesis to the hippy law that anyone who doesn’t stand for hate or war deserves brotherly respect.

Being an advocate of peace and love, which is what hippies are, isn’t about picking some ‘supreme theory’ of an ideal world and rejecting all else, it requires education and understanding; it’s not about scorning people who don’t share your beliefs or people who eat chicken and don’t give a crap about going green; it’s not about sitting on your ass all week and just getting high; it’s not about just idle chit chat based on your distaste for the corporate system and the tool mindedness of society; it’s not about clothes and image.

It’s about composing something positive that you’re passionate about, maybe singing it to people hoping it’ll change the way they look at things; gathering a few friends and figuring out how to create change; putting your thoughts out there about peace and love and how it can actually be applicable in society.. not only just going ‘like peace duuude, pass me that joint.’

So if you’re going to say you’re up for peace and love, man, show it.  
Leave the pretending to the hip hop posers at MC.

hippies in the 60s: taking to the streets, resisting violence, making a statement.

 

hippies today: making me lol.

another random douchebag who makes me lol.

A Sri Lankan who is communicationally at his optimum, in the country and universally, is trilingual.

My English is impeccable, Tamil is good, Sinhalese is okayish (I can have short convos in sinhalese and can convincingly slap someone on the back and shout ‘ela kiri machan!’ without looking strange).  

This awesome post about this year’s Miss Sri Lanka for Miss Universe by T, which was about that but touched a bit on a language-superiority issue, got me really thinking about this.

Ok so if you’re Sri Lankan, you have to know Sinhalese – otherwise you’re less of a Sri Lankan. That’s what I’ve been taught so far in my experience post-school.  
But then later, I found that Tamil is theoretically equitable to Sinhalese, since theoretically Sri Lanka is a multiethnic country – and not just a Buddhist country despite its Sinhalese majority. True or false?

So if Sri Lanka is defined as a multiethnic country as opposed to a purely Sinhalese/Buddhist country, and the Tamil and Sinhalese people are seen as equals – shouldn’t both languages be held in the same esteem? English came later from colonization so I’m not going to consider it a necessary language in terms of omg-you’re-a-srilankan-why-can’t-you-speak-this-language. So it’s safe to say the average educated functional Sri Lankan is bilingual at least.

But there’s a sort of social war going on between the languages – one is the annoying idiots who are great at English (or not really, just that they have weird accents) and an air of ‘Oh I’m too posh for anything non-English. Could I hav’a’ cuppa tea?’ and need to constantly lol at people who don’t  know English. ‘Ohh he doesn’t know English..’ comes the hushed mocking tone at meeting someone whose mother tongue is Sinhalese or Tamil. And I’ve seen loads of people come to Colombo from outstation and feel embarassed at their inability to speak English as fluently as someone here, and they’re made to feel less educated.

Then there’s the other battle that I struggled with last year – because my Sinhalese was bad. I was fresh out of an international school that functioned in English, and my family having Muslims from inner Kandy were well versed in Tamil. Sinhalese had never happened in my life apart from maybe saying ‘samosa ekai’ to the tuckshop lady. Once work started after A/Ls and socializing outside school began – oh man, being bilingual didn’t cut it at all. Sure, I get it, most people in Sri Lanka are Sinhalese, so it’s obviously useful to be good at the language so you can communicate with the average person on the street – but is the social pressure necessary?

I cringed every time I had to say something like, ‘I didn’t understand that properly..’ when someone said something fast in Sinhalese. ‘You can’t speak Sinhalese?!’ came the reaction which I think was a mix of shock and disgust. I felt like that Batticoloa boy who joined my college and the pompous art teacher turned his nose up at him because his English was appalling. I could always understand Sinhalese because I caught onto it fast when I heard people talking, but lack of practise made me a weak speaker. But I was eager to learn.

People treated me like I was being vain, because I had grown up with Tamil and English. ‘You’re too good for Sinhalese huh?’ And the posh brat stereotype jokes would ensue. Dude, I was just culturally not around the language, at least I’m trying to learn your mother tongue, has the idea of learning Tamil ever even crossed your mind? What about my mother tongue?  

But then maybe Sri Lanka is a Sinhalese country after all? I don’t see anybody bothering with the Tamil language anyway: Tamil people have to learn Sinhalese to function, and apparently so do Muslims. If the average middle class Sinhalese person is learning any new language to communicate with non-sinhalese speakers it might be a bit of English. Quite clearly, Sinhalese trumps all.

So are Sinhalese and Tamil ideally equal languages at all? Will they ever be? Or am I just a big kalu suddha? 😛

“Hai Makuluwo! Welcome to Computer Addicts Anonymous.”

😛

I don’t think I’m addicted to an extent that all I do is sit at the computer, but what is an addiction? n. an uncontrollable compulsion to repeat a behavior regardless of its negative consequences.

Switch on computer. Check email. Facebook. WordPress. Refresh, check. Google, research, get side tracked by shiny advert. Eventually type article on Word. Come back in a coupla hours, reread article. Refresh internet, check.
I think it’s safe to say that if I’m spending the day at home, 40 to 50% of it is at the computer.

When I’m out of town holidaying at a place that has no internet, I find on the first day that I have my computer on my mind. Oh computer, your slim smooth monitor screen, your lush black compact CPU… ok maybe not thinking of it like that, but I’m all, damn, that article, this folder, those notifications, that blog post.

And it’s pathetic to admit to it, as is the case for all addicts. And as the days go by while I’m on vacation, after the first day of Withdrawal, relief comes. Ahhh not to feel dependent on the machine anymore. The rehab’s working.

Of course that’s your average computer addiction.

I’ve seen computer addicts. Yeah you know who you are. Updating a status, sitting at Facebook and refreshing the page every minute for an hour. Tweeting about the stain on your table, then five minutes later tweeting about wiping the stain off your table with a ‘ha ha lolz.’ Sitting for hours with a glib look on your face, at your email, or your Word work, or your World of Warcraft – responding to all external attempts at communication – with a grunt or an annoyed wave of the hand. Feeling restless when you don’t have your computer, feeling great relief when you finally do.  

Computer Addiction is not cited as a medical condition or a ‘problem’ per se, so nobody with credible authority can really just say, hey man that’s totally unhealthy, get a life. So addicts are allowed to be addicts with no reprimanding except for maybe someone socially going, hey man that’s totally unhealthy, get a life. Personally, I think people need to look into it as a serious thang.

I know a 6 year old who sits with his computer already, with a vacant stare, mouth half open, playing Sonic the Hedgehog. Thing is, there’s nothing solid you can pin on computer addiction – like the creepy pale faced almost dead look that heroin addicts sport – but when you see a kid sitting for hours at a computer as opposed to running and jumping outside, it just feels unhealthy. I’ve seen gamers, oh boy, so addicted to the computer game, that interfering or taking away the game causes such a ruckus- well let’s just say it’s pretty equivalent to the violent desperate reaction you get from a crackhead who’s not being given his daily fix. And then there’s adults sitting for hours at their PCs in a zombie trance, that feels to me like a sort of sloth lack of life, a blarghyness if you will.

But is that just a traditional culturally relevant thought? The game is after all interactive, it’s a strategy game, it’s fun, it engages the user’s mind; the program is after all relevant to the person earning his money, or to relaxing his mind, or to reaching out to his social circle for entertainment. What do you think? Is computer addiction an awful stunting affliction that’s going unnoticed or is that just a traditionalist exaggeration?

Anyway, for what it’s worth, here are medical symptoms of addiction, applies for anything really.
Get yourself checked.

1. Tolerance – the need to engage in the addictive behavior more and more for the desired effect.

2. Withdrawal – unpleasant effects caused when the person attempts to not take the substance or engage in the activity, which are often the opposite of the effects of the addictive behavior.

3. Difficulty cutting down – or controlling the addictive behavior; desperation for the fix.

4. Addiction becomes central – to other social, occupational or recreational activities; they focus and revolve around the addiction and important social and occupational roles being jeopardized.

5. Preoccupation with addiction – as the person alotts and requires a long period of time for planning, engaging in, and recovering from the addictive behavior.

6. Denial – when person constantly asserts ‘I am not addicted’, despite show of all symptoms; acceptance of the problem is the biggest hurdle for an addict.  

7. Offering to do evil things – in return for the fix.

Ok maybe I made that last one up.. but wouldn’t that be awesomely hilarious.
‘Hey mike.. *shifty eyes*’
‘Hey Jo.. you want it?’
‘I need it, bro.. what I gotta do? I’m broke. *fidgety fidget*’
‘You gotta do me a job, man. A job. It aint pretty.’
‘Anything, bro, anything.. I just need-‘
‘Yeahyeah I know, just busta cap in Ramone’s head and bring me his stash.’
‘Oh wow mike man that’s kinda.. I don’t do-‘
‘You want your stash or not? You can have half Ramone’s share.’
‘I’ll do it, mike, I’ll do it.’
And with a sniff, Jo, an addict, trudges towards Ramone’s home for his stash. Of original Counterstrike PC DVDs and his totally awesome new 6Gv2 keyboard.. he’d have to kill a man. But a man gotta do what a man gotta do.
*cue Disturbed’s Down With The Sickness*

LOLOLOL k I’ll stop now. :’)

Remember this little post?

Finally got down to making that video! Much love and thanks to photographers Martien Van Asseldonk, Dinidu De Alwis, Sachini Perera, Raashid Riza and Charles Haviland.
So check this shizz out and start your own 5 rupee bowl, man. 
In your home, your classroom, your work place, whatever.

Yep, a bowl full of bus change can help. It is that easy.  

Update: Also it’s come to my attention from T’s post and a few other places that there are concerns about exploitation and misrepresentation of the people in this video. Check it out, it’s an interesting post.

I have no doubt in my mind that many of the people in the video are awesome and happy most of the time, despite their lifestyles being different from ours. I’ve seen poor families live more satisfying lives and they’d seem much, much happier than the average one I’d see in Colombo 7.

But this isn’t about saying who is happier than who, who lives more ‘fulfilling lives.’ Money is just going to go into making them feel comfortable, regardless; there’s the woman who can’t afford 3 meals for her and a family because her husband left her and they’re left to fend for themselves, there’s a man who wishes he had the money to give his daughter a higher education – but he doesn’t; or just new clothes, new books. 

And I hate it when people look at a hobo and go ‘oh that poor man’ automatically, even though he seems physically happy and well, as though the obvious formula to being happy is money. I respect people with these different lifestyles, but the point here is not making them live like we do – with more money – but the point is giving them the option of living differently. 

We’ll ask them what they want and what they need, we’re not going to just pompously assume shiny clothes and a big house will make them happier – we actually ask them, and usually the answer is basic things like electricity or water or loans for education. So yeah, just so you know.

And urgh I sound like a fucking carebear now, I know. I knew I shouldn’t have watched so many of those reruns on MTV as a kid. 😐

My pretties! It’s been some time since I’ve felt the need to blog, to vent if you will.

I’ve been horribly preoccupied with exams (die exams DIEEE!) and after mindless cramming and lots of substance abuse (redbull) I have come out alive and jobless at the other end.

Two months of holidays. And I am going to use it to write a book.  

Ok ok, I know what you’re thinking, yeaahhh right man this is like that last time you said you’re going to write awesome stories for children, or that time you said you were gonna eat an entire raw tomato in a minute for 200 bucks. Well, mister or missis smartypantaloons, I actually did one of those things! And also, that is totally besides the point!  

I’m thinking the book will be like one of those How To books, and something akin to the human psych since I have such an unnatural fascination with how people’s minds work. These are the options I’ve got so far:

1. The Failbook Of Parenting – how not to parent a child, a sort of backhanded informative guideline for Sri Lankan parents to show them how bullshit moves they think are brilliant and parently can totally mess their kids up. Totally pretentious I know, seeing as the most experience I’ve had of parenthood is cleaning off Caesar’s poo (diapers would be so much easier, I swear), but it’ll be from the perspective of a teenager (I’m 20 but screw you) since to know successful parenting, you need to know how teenagers function and react to parenting.   

2. How To Deal With Emos – stupid emos, they’re everywhere, cramping up my style, quoting bad poetry and shit. I’m going to attempt to not be an asshole and dissect the Emo Mind in as much a lack of condescending attitude as I can muster, and present a step by step means by which one may deal with an emo responsibly. Do not keell the emo, understand the emo; do not shout at emo, but ask why and counter their argument so that they may see the gay in their melancholy ways.

3. How To Deal With Jerks – how to tackle the common jerk, hardcore jerks and the worst kind, jerks who don’t think they’re being jerks. This includes everyone that might fit the definition from just people who say mean stuff but don’t mean it to the pricks who are mean with a smiley face =) to just big monster bullies of doom. They’re all human, and anything human can be analyzed, the origin of its behaviour found, and manipulated in a way to achieve some sort of ends; ideally, in the case of a jerk, the ends are stfu or gtfo.

4. How To Train Your Pet To Become A Killing Machine – yeah. Epic stuff, I’m not giving anything away till the draft is done.

Which one shall I go with first? Right now I’m leaning towards Failbook of Parenting because of the urgency I see all around me from so many parents failing so bad at cooperating with the little folks. It’s like watching Caesar repeatedly jump into the glass shutter after putting him in the car to go to the vet’s (so funny btw).

You’d think someone would have written a guide or a manual already? A coupla simple rules for dummies? Like, do not yell at your kid ‘don’t do that or I kill u!’ because that is direct incentive to do it? Seriously, parents. Stop making me facepalm.