Archive for October, 2010

I got a Tumblr!

Posted: October 27, 2010 in Uncategorized

Lalalala! It’s so much fun, this tumblr thing.
Pretty little themes and it’s sorta like the lovechild of a tweetdeck and a blog.

Besides the occasional quote, most of my posts are going to be original creations, so credit pls. Besides words of great spiderly wisdom there shall be webcomics.
Webcomics are awesome.

There’s just a few up now, check it, bookmark it, love it. Tumblr is cool because it’s visually appealing, interesting to look at, but without being tedious to read. A blog is not as cool because the posts are too long, and twitter is not as cool because the posts are so scarce. And twitter is so overrated anyway (YEAH I WENT THERE).
And facebook isn’t as cool, cuz well, farmville.

So yeah. Brevity is the soul of wit and all that. If you want to say a lot with a little, tumblr is the place.

Dog-people have always judged my love for cats unfairly. I’m an animal-person, I love cats and dogs both, for different reasons. And I’d like to come out and nullify some cruel accusations people have been throwing at my poor feline buddies.

Number one myth: cats are snooty.

Cats have moods, just like humans do. They also have different personalities, like humans do.
From what I’ve seen, most dogs are friendly, if not all. If at all you’d find some dogs a little friendlier than others, but they’re all kinda happy-puppy-jump-and-hug-owner-ey. Cats are way more diverse; you’ll find some who love to sit on your lap and purr soon as you come home, some are only purry when they’re particularly happy about  a toy or food or a friend, some like playing and being petted all day, some have days when they’re depressed and antisocial.
Some are really sweet, and some are really rude. I kid you not, about the variety.

When they’re kittens, they’re all easy to please and just adorable – just like babies. Then when they grow up, they develop very distinct personalities.

Sunday and Pumpkin, two of the best cats I’ve ever had, were awesome. They’d run to the gate whenever my dad came home, they’d jump on my lap whenever I sat down. Pumpkin used to wake me up in the morning by poking my face with his nose, and when I was really down Sunday would magically find me and snuggle up next to me with a consoling purr.

On the other side of the personality scale, are Sumo and Harry. They would come when you called them, but their decision to be friendly would depend on their mood that day. Some days Harry would spend the day with me watching tv, doing homework, occasionally whoring for attention by carrying my pen in his mouth. Some days he’d sit in a bush in the garden and wallow in his emo issues. Some days Sumo wouldn’t shut up till I carried him, some days he’d just pee on my magazines. I’m not saying cats are bipolar. I’m saying just like you have bad days and good days, they do too.

Secondly, cats take care of themselves. Many dog owners find that unattractive because it’s fun to treat your pet like a helpless baby and scrub the dirt off it and coddle it and such.
But it works fine for me, babysitting is not my thang.

A dog, you get him, he loves you, end of story.
Cats are just complicated, because every cat is different. Also I don’t mean to be racist, but Sumo was persian, and persian adult male cats have tempers and toxic pee, just fyi.
Dogs are unquestionably loyal to you, your cat will be if it’s got such a personality – and if you get whatever cat from the time it was a kitten, chances are it will latch on to you like a dog does. It’s usually the ones you adopt half way that sometimes give you attitude; think of it like adopting a teenager.. a furry small teenager.. with a strong personality and possibly issues with being moved from home to home.

Why have a cat at all when a dog’s love is most surely guaranteed?
Well it’s an acquired taste. You need to be into that type of companionship if you want a cat, it’s not something everyone can fall in love with. I like the way they work. They’re very clean, they’re smart as hell, they take care of themselves essentially, and each one has a strong personality. You can cuddle them all. Some are very loving and some aren’t as much. It’s like having a furry little person. Who poops in a litter tray.

In conclusion,

Self Inflicted Dejavu

Posted: October 24, 2010 in Uncategorized

I am bored.

So, so, so bored.

You know what is boring me to death? The predictability of everything.
I do ranting posts but they’re rarely pointless ranting, so please, bare with me for this exception.

There comes a chunk of your life, you wake up in, and you realize damn I did this yesterday. You know, that part when you find yourself following a routine.

Wake up, brush teeth, iron clothes, take bus, listen to lectures, come back, internet, eat, sleep, repeat.
It drives me insane if I do it long enough.

Everyone says the same sort of thing every day.
When they’re not, it’s usually some fascinating gossip.
Man I wish I got as much excitement from hearing ‘did you hear that this one and that one broke up? *noise like a pressure cooker*’ as other folks around me do. I envy their ability to be entertained so easily.
And I’m not invited to their gossip sessions anymore because my reactions (“Oh.”) have rendered me unqualified for such activities.

I like bus rides because they have some semblance of unpredictability in them – will you get a seat or won’t you, are you going to end up next to that crazy person every bus ride tends to have, can you stand precariously on the step’s edge like this without bumping into creepy looking boy. It might not seem like much, but the not knowing is so much when everything else is all laid out for you.

I take detours, I get down earlier than my stop, walk a little, stroll down a different pavement just cuz nice araliya falls on that one. When someone says what’s up, I say everything. Not that everything is up, but even the usual answer to that question is so predictable, why do people even ask it anymore.

How do you escape monotony? How do you escape routine?
Me and my old childhood buddy Chokka Bunnis contemplated this like bigshot pseudo philosophers and all in regular fashion. Maybe we should join a bunch of gypsies, I said, travel around, never settle. But being a homeless traveller can get old too no?

What then, just change it up every time you get bored?
You can’t be living life being constantly entertained, you silly goose, says someone very sane.

Why not.

Spoilers below if you haven’t watched Avatar the Last Airbender, the animated series. If you have, then no worries, nothing new was added to the movie.
If you still haven’t watched the series after I said that, you are sucking as you read this, stop being so full of suck and go watch it.
Basically, the four nations of the world are Water, Fire, Earth and Air, and some people in these nations can manipulate these elements. Fire nation’s taken over the world (or as the movie implies, India has O_O) and it’s upto the Avatar to restore balance.. balance.. balance (echo).

Here we go.

Annoying white kid and his sister from the Water nation walking around glacier in blue costumes.
“Oh look, there’s something glowing under the ice. I am going to indelicately break the ice over here to see what it is, despite the fact that it could be anything (evil Fire Nation stuff) and that cracking it this violently can totally make the ice under us fall out,” says annoying white boy.

Giant ball of ice with boy inside pops out of the ice. Shit, scary stuff right?
White girl just runs and goes and cracks that shit open cuz she’s hardcore like that.

Bald phillipino emerges as Avatar and stuff. Cool.

White kids take phillipino back home. Lots of blah blah here, especially on part of Grandma saying wise things.

The Fire nation prince who turns out to be the guy from Slumdog Millionaire, comes over looking real angry (Frieda Pinto’s fault I bet), finds phillipino, takes him away. “I HAVE THE PHILLIPINO. I shall finally have my honor back. DON’T MOVE, PHILLIPINO, YOU MAY BE THE AVATAR BUT I AM A VIOLENT INDIAN SO DON’T YOU FUCKING MO-”

Phillipino moves.
Flies away from captivity on his totally cool bison.

Blah blah blah. Some cool scenes when Avatar moves stuff around with air.
Some shots of Indian people in a cafeteria. Or a court. Whatever.
So many shots taken entirely from the animated series that the predictability was disappointing.

Annoying white guy likes white haired princess, who has cool hair and can act. As opposed to everyone else on the cast besides the Slumdog Millionaire indian. He was very convincing of his batshit-crazy rage and deep seated daddy issues.

Blah blah blah.


White haired princess dies. Annoying white guy cries. I’m happy.

Phillipino totally saves the day by dealing with his feelings and scaring the baddies away with a giant tsunami.

Ends with everyone being all, that phillipino’s got mad skillz yo. And phillipino’s face looks at the camera and goes, FML.


So basically, M Night Shayamalan took the animated series, picked some scenes from the first chapter, threw in some graphics and got some bad actors in bad costumes to act them out in a rush. It was a spoof of the series.

Well done.
The funniest part was how he decided to go blatantly racial with this; Water nation was full of Americans, Fire nation of Indians with that little lived-in-the-US vibe, Earth nation was Japanese, and Air was like a mix of the Phillipinos, Indonesians and a black dude. I really don’t know where he was going with that.

I’m disappointed most though, that when the evil Indian commander disses the Slumdog Millionaire guy in the cafeteria, they edited out the fun part where they all do a coordinated bhangra jig. They didn’t really say they edited it out per se, but it was a dramatic moment and everyone was Indian with nice hair and wearing the same clothes, so you know, duh.

pic by camiloo

What do I see myself doing for the rest of my life that’ll keep me happy?
Assuming money and status aren’t determining factors.

Lots of love out to everyone reading the nonsense I write, the appreciation helps.

I’m stressed out these days, man. Growing up is just as sucky as my melodramatic 20th birthday woes made it out to be. But my refuge in writing in times of concentration-camp-like college has got me thinking.

What do writers do? Or what do you do if you want to make music? What do you do, if you just want to sit around and paint canvas for people?
Why do artists seemingly have to struggle?
There is no clear system here supporting people who want to do something besides medicine, architecture, engineering, management, a desk job at a company.

The system just supports the people who either conveniently like doing one of those limited things or are made to conform to one of those options because being out of the system has the feel of uncertainty.

What if you want to make movies? Record an album? Write a book? Make and sell art?
I can already feel the uneven ground of those ideas – you’d have to start from a blind dream, and just vaguely make ‘connections’ by going to the right events and meeting the right people, and just hope you’ll get lucky.
What are you talking about! I can already hear some indignant old person cry. Those are just mad hatter dreams, get down to earth, child.
Why? I think it’s unfair that dreams like that aren’t fostered and cared for by a thorough system, while different ones are; aren’t they worth nurturing? Maybe if there was an intelligent educational and graduation system to support the arts and entertainment careers, those careers would be just as known for money and prestige too.

It’s just that they’re ignored. Painters alongside vihara maha devi park, some obscure artist in a scarce crowd at a lionel wendt exhibition, a musician recording his work with a box guitar and a 4.0 digi cam, a writer scribbling drafts of a budding novel in their scruffy journal.

The artists are on the periphery, looking in. They have to work it all out by themselves. Inside are the people in smart suits behind mahogany tables and speaking in similar dialects, working for money and good names and big houses, interdependent and flourishing collectively.

Why are those jobs treated more importantly than the job of an artist? Okay, painting or dancing or singing doesn’t take seven years of slavery at a faculty like medicine does, fair enough. Doctors save lives, teachers teach our children, architects create our homes – so in comparison, artists just entertain, so meh?
That is a fair point. But think of a world without artists then. Without that new-book smell from the pages of your favourite novel, without that beautiful perfect song on the radio that completely understands what you’re going through, without a piece of dramatic theatre to move you, without that amazing cinematic story unfolding on your computer screen. Don’t any of those things matter? Aren’t some of those the very things that take us away from the mundane things we do behind desks and in AC’d offices?

I find it condescending and naieve when people roll their eyes or facepalm, when a person just says, I’m not going to do accounting or CIMA or something in a university with textbooks and exams, I’m going to be an artist. I’m going to write. I’m going to sing. I’m going to film.
Why are those ideas assumed to be grandiose and frivolous over here? I think these career options seem ‘risky’ only because of a lack of system in SL’s artistic arena, so people are pressured into choosing a more ‘safe’ path. Even if it is risky, even if you don’t make it huge and sell a best seller or go platinum or make a blockbuster, you would have been happier during that course of trying than you would ever be doing something you have no love for like printing a flowchart and explaining it to a room full of grumpy men in black ties. You would have expressed yourself as an invidual more than any of your peers inside the system are ever allowed to.

People get scared when I suggest I’m going to do something easy and fun with my life, as art is for me. Sometimes it feels like society has conditioned itself into a rut of a thought: that most certainly, if you’re having too much fun while growing up, you’re not doing it right.

I might come off as an elitist asshole in this post to modern soap fans, but I say it like I see it.

Remember Bold & the Beautiful?
Naa na na naa na naa naa! *camera light bulbs flash, dramatic portraits of soap opera characters*

I’m fuzzy about the names but this is how it kind of went.
Ridge: How.. how could you, Brook? The children! Think of the children!
Brook: I don’t know, Ridge, I just… I have something to tell you… *stares at Ridge, chin quivering*

At this point the camera zooms in on Ridge’s face, and then on Brook’s, then on Ridge’s.

Oh the suspense. What ever could it be that Brook is about to tell Ridge? It couldn’t be that she slept with Eric, before sleeping with that other guy with the blonde hair, and then having a baby and not really knowing who the baby daddy is? Even if it is, who could hold her whorish ways against poor blonde chin-quivering Brook (especially when she has to deal with Stacy’s weird return to life after dying in the previous season and Rick’s return this season as a new actor entirely).

Needless to say, twas all hilariously ridiculous. I was about 10 and there was nothing to watch on local TV besides soaps and GI Joe and Jem & the Holograms. Remember Jem? I loved Jem.

Anyhoo. Soaps are so last decade. You can’t walk around today and proudly declare you watch Bold & the Beautiful unless you’re a 40 year old crazy cat lady/ bored middle aged housewife. So producers everywhere sat down in their little foldable chairs with the PRODUCER tag at the back and thought, hmm what to do to bring it back?

I know! Make all the characters younger, hotter, richer, and use cinematography to trick viewers into thinking the soap is just another intelligent series! And then, One Tree Hill, The OC, and Gossip Girl, were born. Among other inane modern soaps whose names I forget, since they’re all essentially the same thing.

It starts out as a pseudo-ordinary-series, a bunch of friends, some humour, some boy/girl drama. Then slowly, sneakily, they bring out the soap ingredients… scandalous inappropriate sex (oh no, becky slept with her daughter’s boyfriend, ooh!), pregnancies and inane drama enhanced by emo soundtracks, absurdly no unattractive people in the series, and last but not least.. urgh, the cheese. Chad Michael Murray in One Tree Hill is nice looking and all but man, at that point when he started spewing off quotes from boyband songs one after the other (‘oh to wake up next to you is all I ever wanteddd! grovelgrovel!’), to the ‘love of his life’, I just needed a box of tissues. Not for tears but to wipe the bile from my mouth.

Very clever though. Now under the guise of being a ‘teenage series’ and part of  ‘pop culture’ (what with episodes featuring the latest fashion and obscure ‘arty’ indie band music), guys and girls alike of any age are free to watch these modern soaps without being criticized for being morons with too much time on their hands.

Drama and series have now merged into one new genre: neo-soap-opera. It’s got everything that soap operas used to have, minus old people, minus the blatantly dramatic camera zoom-ins, plus pretentious teenagers teaching viewers annoying sesame street-esque lessons about friendship and love, and when they’re not doing that, getting teary eyed about their ‘larger than life’ problems.

Why do people watch it? Why do I find girls and guys my age, sitting down with me, and saying, omg remember that episode when blahblah dumped blahblah, and blahblah was like totally heart broken, but then she got together with blahblah and they got married but then blahblah crashed the wedding and was like-

I completely zone out at this point, trying to calculate the energy the person is wasting on talking to me about something I couldn’t care less about.

chuck bass is so hot. But like blare is such a bitch, but omg her clothes-

Zoning out again.

-and when hayley’s mum died I totally cried! Right?

Silence. Oh it’s  my cue to say something. ‘Yeaah.. bye.’
Has modern TV really just become totally inane gossip about fictional drama queens? Who slept with who, and who’s wearing what, and who found out who was his real father. Is everyone so depressed that they have to escape into the scandalous details of the lives of some ridiculously rich and beautiful people, whose entire lives revolve around their philandering family members and the oh so elusive objects of their lust? Not trying to be rhetorical here, I’m actually posing a genuine valid question, which is, LOLWUT?