Staying Alive... Just.

I was driving to work this morning, and overheard on the radio of a new law, or legislature, or something that was being passed to 'preserve the Malaysian culture and values on media such as television and radio'. According the the ruling, even the criticisms of judges on such popular reality shows (yes, this is sarcasm) such as Malaysian Idol (now known by some other name because 'Idol' was offensive) are to be toned down to a more 'respectful' manner such as to respect the cultures and values of the people around Malaysia.

Bullshit.

Pardon the French, but honestly, who the heck does the government think they're fooling? What's all this nonsense about free speech and the right to express your opinion? Why are they even bothering with the parody of a forum that they held in Penang to discuss the rights of non-Muslims in this country? Not to say that the forum actually took off, it was disrupted by some narrow-minded bigoted biased extremists, which apparently is the par for this nation. They tell us the forum was for open discussion and possibly some changes for the better.

As my friend Mr. Owl says:



Even when our respected former PM, Tun Dr. Mahatir Mohammad speaks his mind, he is quickly ridiculed, slapped down, defamed, and generally shot down in the eyes of the public by not only the government and its cabinet members, but also by the press which is looking more and more to me, to be honest, as mindless lackeys of the political movement. Do you think my tirade is degradatory to them? Ask yourself that much.

Is this democracy? Is this true freedom? No. To me, it looks like a dictatorship. Do as we tell you to or we'll make your life a living hell. The right of free speech in this country is a sick joke; defined as hopping, skipping, jumping, and dancing to the insane, off-key, cacophonic tune of whatever our so-called 'leaders' are playing today. It's a twisted requiem, the sound of a million voices crying out to be heard in a high pitched soprano being corrupted, undermined and twisted by the low thrum of political manipulation, agendas, and creeds drowning out the melody of the people in their relentless marching bass line.

Next, we'll start hearing about the book burnings.

Sieg Heil, Malaysia.

P.S. The title is not a direct reference to the movie I caught the other day... it refers to free speech.

Oh, the HORROR!!!

No, I'm not referring to the fact that I have put on 15 kilos in a year.

We're gonna go watch Stay Alive tonight (By 'we', I mean me and some colleagues) and I'm soooo excited!

For those of you that know me well, you will know that I love horror movies. You will also know that I love computer games.

A movie that combines the two together? Priceless. I'm going there expected to be scared out of my seat, and with the half-hearted expectation that it might... it might, scare me away from computer games.

Haha... yeah right.

Anyway, the last movie I watched was Tokyo Drift and that was a classic too. Honestly, the story was a drag (pun intended) but the cars, and the girls... man oh man. :) However, the girls does not include the main actress, whose quasi-fake Japanese accent made me wanna cry. The cars... oooh the cars... I was watching it, and I told myself... I really want an Evo IX.

















Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX

Whoo-ee... now THERE's a car. :)

Right now, I drive a Nissan Sunny 130Y. It's so obsolete that I can't even find a picture online. It's tough though, with massive shock bumpers. I DARE anyone to run into me.

Well, actually, someone has rear-ended me before. His bumper fell apart and his bonnet caved in... and my car? Well, it had a scratch on the shock bumper.

:D

Okay, I think this is more than enough to justify an entry. I was honestly scratching my head last night, but it could be part laziness, because when I sat down and started typing it just came to me. I'll probably blog about the movie in the next entry. :)

And to leave you with something to remember this blog by...

Of Fond Farewells... and Broken Down Trains

Yesterday, I think, is the last time in a long while that I'll be able to play in the same band as Jason and Catherine Chin, a couple in our church. She sings, he plays the drums.

You see, they're heading for Australia. Sydney, to be exact. It's not a de facto migration, but it is de jure as they have obtained Permanent Residency status, and it looks like they may be staying there in the long term. Oh, and Catherine's two sisters, Angeline and Brenda are already there in Sydney, so you can say that despite all the caveats and disclaimers that it's just a 'phase', I think it's a done deal. :)

Jason is one of the few drummers I can say that I truly enjoy playing with. His sense of timing is almost impeccable, and I like to think that we work well together, though if you said that because of his drumming he helps me play better, that's probably closer to the truth.

Catherine is a worship leader of no small ability. We call her the 'Darlene Zchesch of FGA', and I think it is more of an honorific on our part; not any simple casual teasing. 'Nuff said. Also, I remember when I first started out as this totally nervous young guitarist (18 years old at the time, I believe) on the team, they were both there, encouraging me all the way.

I think that there really are no words that can justify the amount of gratitude I have, and the team has, towards you, so I'll just settle for a heartfelt 'Thank you'.

Anyway, it looks like they'll be going, and on this coming Sunday, no less. Their flight is at 5am and thus, that means they have to be at the airport at 3am, and leave around 2am. I'm planning to go see them off, anyone care to give me a ride?

Don't think anyone who could give me a ride reads this blog, nohow.

Jason and Catherine, may God bless you in the long road you have ahead of you, and I know no matter what, God has just such big plans for you. I know this entry isn't much of a tribute, to be honest, I'm a little embarassed by it, but if you're reading this, well, it's from the heart, and I know that you guys probably have had too much "We'll miss you!" and "Come back!" and tears and such, so I'll just end it here by saying... :

"Goodbye, and God bless you."



Oh, and to justify the second part of my blog title, the train I was in broke down today. Made me over an hour late for work.

And here the Prime Minister is telling us to take more public transportation. Ugh. I doubt HE'S ever had to ride a jam-packed, broken-down LRT.

Dentistry - Modern Torture at its Finest

Yes, as those mini-Einsteins/Sherlocks would have possibly cleverly deduced by now from looking at my blog entry... I just came back from the Dentist. Note the capital 'D'.

As these prodigies of clear, concise, and careful thought may also have figured out by now, it was a traumatic experience.

I used to think of dentists as pretty much harmless. Sure, they dug around in your mouth trying to keep those pieces of solidified calcium known as 'teeth' healthy, and basically terrifying the heck out of you while doing so, but you knew it was for your own good. And honestly, it didn't really hurt that much, did it?

Well.... at least it didn't for me, until today...

The only time I was ever scared or in serious pain with a dentist was in primary school. I think I was 10 at the time, and hell, that damned government-servant-type jabbed my gums with anaesthesia, and left the bloody syringe in place. Yes, there I was, a scared little 10-year old kid with this mother of a syringe sticking out of his mouth, while the classic example of moronic imbecility, the government servant, dug around in my mouth making witty comments to his fawning nurses.

"Ooh doctor, you're so clever!"

I swear, if I was bigger then, I'd have pulled the syringe out of my mouth and introduced it (the pointy end first) to various parts of his anatomy. The sensitive ones.

I'm lucky the only negative thing I took away from that traumatic incident was a fear of needles. Otherwise I might be a serial dentist killer, otherwise known as DR. CAVITY, striking terror into the hearts of dentists everywhere!

Ahem.

But anyway, back to today. The dentist was a friend of mine, Amy, and basically that made me quite happy, put me at ease, so to speak. It was a simple thing, I thought I had a cavity, and thus needed to fill it. I sat down on the chair-recliner-torture device type thing and it slowly revved back, with me looking up at the pretty lights and thinking happy thoughts.

My pleasant illusion was soon shattered.

Turns out I had a cracked tooth, TWO extra cavities (which I didn't know about until I foolishly agreed to an X-Ray) and I had a scaling thrown in.

And thanks to that government servant, I declined the jab in my gums this time. Oh the HUMANITY!

And the sad thing is, if I wasn't in such pain right now, it'd probably be funny. Hmph.

But thanks Amy, if you're reading this. I hold no ill-will towards you, you did a great job, and I swear I am not thinking of becoming DR. CAVITY once more.

I swear.

Ahem.

A Little Extra...

Something to just end the day, and to act as an addendum to my previous entry.

I got paid.

*does a little jig of joy*

Woo hoo!!! Now I can... I can...

Pay the bills, repair my car, fix my glasses, clear my credit cards, and piss it all away on general expenses.

....
......

Damn it, now I'm depressed. Spare a coin, mister? Missus? :(

Thank God It's Friday

Friday!! Yipp333eeee!!!

To quote a very wise man (and I mean wise, he's me :P), Friday's one of the best days ever. Simply because it's one of the days of the week where you don't really work, no one expects you to work much, and yet you still get paid for it. It's also party nite, football nite, cell group nite, or whatever strikes your fancy nite!

Because it's FRIIIIIIIII-DAY!

Friday people, in the quaint terminology of The Right Reverend Professor Dr. Tony Campolo, are those who are STUCK in their Fridays, the day according to folklore that Christ died on the Cross for our sins. Good Friday. The day of mourn, the day of sorrow, when God himself hid his face from His only Son to save the world from their sin. People living in the apparent defeat of their lives, not moving forward into the promises that God has for us.

Sunday people, are those who are breaking free! Those people who are WILD, those who CELEBRATE the victory of our risen Lord and Saviour, the one and only Son, Lamb of God, Messiah! Those that live in victory, those that don't allow the curse of sin, the temptations of the world to lead them astray, those that overcome and conquer, who stand on the righteousness and salvation of God, and will one day worship Him in heaven above!

Having said all that though, I reckon that I'm a Friday to Sunday person. There's benefits to both sides. On one hand, Friday reminds us of the sacrifice that was paid on our behalf, so that going to heaven is completely, utterly, totally, free. There's no price tag attached. Even if there was, there is no way we can pay it, even if we had the resources of the entire universe in our hands. Can you think of a greater statement of love than GOD HIMSELF paying the price for OUR MISTAKES, OUR SINS, OUR ERRORS? That's like saying George Bush goes to Iraq to die in the place of Saddam Hussein when he's finally convicted. It's like saying FDR (Franklin Delano Roosevelt) and Winston Churchill would die for Hitler. Totally mind-boggling, completely unbelievable, and yet God did it for us.

Now please, I'm no fundementalist, so no curses about extremism here. This is MY blog, dammit, and I get to say whatever I wanna say, so the evil eye of Tutenkhamen and the forked tongue of Medusa condemning my personal beliefs are really unwelcome here. :P

Getting back to the fact, Friday reminds us of that tremendous sacrifice God paid on the cross for us... Himself, His only Son. Sunday reminds us of the victory we have, of the fact that Jesus himself conquered Hell and the grave, rose again, and now sits in victory. It reminds me of the fact that no matter how pathetic a failure I may consider myself to be at times (at very RARE times, now there's conceit for you, hehe! :P) there's the fact that I have as a Friend, a Brother, and a King SomeOne who is more than capable of overcoming any weakness I have in myself, and any problems I face in life.

Let's face it, all that influence upstairs is really, REALLY, cool. :)

Okay, I think I got VERY sidetracked in this post. We were talking about how come Fridays are good for me. I think I've said the religious bit. Now for the secular bit.

Two words: More Sleep.

More Sleep is always good. :)

Cheers!

Brand New!

I'm finally succumbing to peer pressure and posting in Blogspot.

Why, you ask? Well...

Many of my friends are going over.

I hear good things about it... more HTML control, getting to use Adsense, more features, blah blah blah... and it's free!

I suppose living in Xanga was good while it lasted, but now, Hello World! This is Aaron, signing in from Radio Station MSM.Blogspot.FM, and reaaaady to entertain you with my muse, my quirky humor, and every other single thing my openly narcisstic self can think about!

Meh.

For those wishing to visit my old blog, it's at www.xanga.com/itzchy. Click on the Taps link to hear a suitably mournful bugle tune honor my previous blog.

Ahhh what the heck, for the sick, the lame, and the lazy of you who don't want to go there, I'll post part of it here as a sneak preview...

It's been at least a year since I buried my deeply beloved dearly departed blog in the vast sea of information known as the Internet. I remember the solemnity of the occasion, the funeral dirge, the sobbing mourners, the somber faces, and the black suits as the sound of a lone bugle plays Taps in the background. The firing of the guns, the silence as the coffin was lowered into the ground, and the handing over of the folded flag to...
I might have watched Band of Brothers one too many times.

C'mon... you know you wanna read more... heh. :)