Life's a Splurge

Hokay.

This month - and contrary to my usual interests - I've splurged on books.

I've bought Fergie's Leading, The Story of Alibaba and Mitch Albom "Frankie Presto".

The problem now is finding the time to read them.

I've done a few pages of Leading and I'm thinking I could zoom through perhaps in one sitting this weekend.

Leading is written is a laid back manner and the tie-up to football and Man United makes it easier to read, as compared to "6 ways to Kill Innovation" which I bought last month which on hindsight was a waste of good money.

Should have just bought a trade paper back of something from the comic lineups.

Anyway, I've ranted about the prices of book going crazy, so I am thankful for MPH's celebratory discounts in blunting the impact.

All three books came with 20 - 30% discount, by the way.

Okay, I must admit that I did sneak in DD's Reborn by Andy Diggle and you know what, I love the short transit from the all heavy duty writing of Brubaker, Bendis and (even) Waid.

Perhaps its the one off storyline. Or the simple and largely overused plot.

I'm thinking the stress of routine work / life cycle is getting to me that such diversions are most welcomed.

Hokay again. Going back to work soon and leaving you with this:

 

Adios. 

 

Uselessly Yours aka Look Who's Back

Mr Black Felt Tip Marker Penner is back and rather than feeling indignant or affronted by his acts, I am feeling mighty twangs of sympathy instead.

He has been lying dormant for a while – at least I think he is because good gracious golly gee is my Brian Azzarello’s 100 Bullets full of stuffs he’d blackened out swifter than the Flash could blink – he is back in action with The Economist being latest to feel the brunt of his mighty blotting.

Not the Sports Illustrated. Not the Maxim. Nope, not FHM either. Nor an issue of the National Geographic featuring a never-before seen human tribe yet to discover the wonderful invention of clothes.

(I am kidding on the last, okay.)

Nope. We are talking about The Economist.

To be precise, some texts’ lines in an article “Taken to the cleaners — an overzealous government response to an opposition rally” in the latest issue of The Economist.

Sympathy because I cannot imagine the tedium of going through whole stacks of the issue to the exact sentences (not even whole, mind you) deemed offensive.

Yep. Usually the black pen is a moralistic answer to all that is society (ours) offending. Or used to, going by the proliferation of girly (manly?) magazines at newsstands, generally speaking.

Sympathy because despite all his effort, the offending texts are not only still read, the blotting out is pretty much posthumous in that people would’ve already read the article in whole elsewhere.

Sympathy because his effort will only block the offending texts from the eyes of less than 9,900 readers (unless you count those lazing away at office lounges waiting for their turn in appointments), the reported circulation of the Economist in Malayia 2010.

Sympathy because in the day and age of the Internet, even those who don’t usually read the Economist can gain access to the article simply by asking Mr Google.

Sympathy that instead of being seen and justified as a moral guardian, he is now treated with disdain as yet another sycophant of a government gone bonkers.

Once upon a time, you could still justify his existence by way of the moral high ground argument of providing something akin to (though cursory at best) a filter against the unfettered, liberalization of so-called artistic endeavors.

Alas, those days are long gone.

Imagine being yanked from retirement to do something that is ultimately useless, and you realized how much Mr Black Felt-Tip Penner deserves our deepest sympathy.

Thus, scorn him not.

Wishful dreams Crappy days

I dream a dream today
A dream of going somewhere someday
A land where daydreamers are free to dream
Of going somewhere, anywhere, everywhere, any day

I dream of reading an Ode yesterday
An unfinished script an ode to a poet
Who writes to pass the day
Days just like today, yesterday and any other day

I might dream another dream tomorrow
Dreams that may or might be a dream I’ve dreamed
I wish it will be a dream I wish to dream
A dream I can dream about in my dreams

I wish I’m dreaming a wishful dream right now
Of vibrant places of exotic locales
Of beautiful people of friendlier faces
Of open skies of sunny, cool winds
Where every blade of grass is green and pristine
Where every fleck of snow is not bitingly cold
Where every ray of sun does not sting
Where the water is clear, warm and soothing
Every breath of air breathlessly clean

A place
I wish I be
Right now right here
Instead of just a wishful dream
I dream of daydreaming

Bored Pastiche

It’s hard not to feel like James Stewart did as L.B. “Jeff” Jeffries in Rear Window (1954) these days.

Bad news unfold at worryingly dizzying pace, and just like Jeff, there’s little that you can do, really but rant.

There are so little to look forward to even as the year nears its ending days. Not even the upcoming Wolverine movie.

Am definitely not impressed with its all-action, little nuances, trailer despite the tie-in characters’ roll call, which includes Gambit, the Blob, Deadpool and Sabretooth.

Not helping matters is the now-deferred piratisation (Reggie (Sunday Star, Dec 21) Lee’s word, not mine) attempt of the IJN; a blatant show of “we can do whatever we want to” of the rich, the powerful and the connected amongst us.

Rant all you want. Ain’t nothing you can do bout it.

Poor schmuck, Us.

Time will tell if our rants made any difference.

I certainly won’t put much stock in the so-called powers of the “Rakyat’s Voice” – a peculiar phrase politicians would normally use whenever there are justifications to be made.

There were initially some exciting deviations from the mundane in our (meaning, local movie) very first lesbian kiss (Yowza!) as well as the (world’s?) first group nude stalking courtesy of Tayangan Unggul’s Histeria and Reformis (now former ) president Ramlan Abu Bakar respectively.

We know now what happened to both.

I was so looking forward to how Reformis would do their nude stalking thing. A plan so out of this world, really.

Had often wondered if they had the balls for it.

As I said earlier: I’m like L.B. Jeffries these days.


On second thought, James Stewart did have the company of the beautiful Lisa Fremont (played by Grace Kelly).

Hmm…

If only I can go for an Alfred Hitchcock “better known movies” marathon this coming long weekend like they often have in the UK all those years ago.

Should be way better than reading the daily bad news or Rocky Bru’s current fixation with Chin Peng.

Something worth doing over long weekends?