positive negation

you know how sometimes we can have a perfectly structured argument, and all it takes is a single "fuck" to keep us shut? like that.

i need to hang out with more cultured people. and by that, i don't mean bacteria-infested scum.

The one most important (and only) word.

"eh, jace."

"sup boy?"

"fuck u man."

"uh, wtf?"

"ya. fuck u."

"why? no one else to pick on is it? go pick on your slutty girlfriend la."

"fuck her."

"yeah, i know i would."

nothing but good, clean, family-friendly fun! ... yeah right.

waiting for a vision; one so strong that seems too simple and logical, amazed that no one has actually done it yet. encapsulate the vision and manifest it. create something real and feasible out of a dream, an idea. the concentration of which, when released, reveals a great glow that all may stand in awe reveling in the sweet glory. and i, in sweeter glory.

i need inspiration. anybody with ideas and want to collaborate and create something even greater than that, please email me or just leave a note on the tag board. i'm hungry: starving really.

i want a bite of that big apple.

you blooming ego! Issue #28

i've always wondered how much it would cost to buy heaven. then i found me. it was perfect. ;)

twenty years.

i thought i'd finally update. put some real stuff on this page rather than my fictional musings. so.

Happy New Year to everybody! (Good start eh?)


i finally figured out what one's most important attribute throughout his/her life is. while he's a child, it's his smile. or rather, his enthusiasm. later on, it's his creativity and gung-ho-ness. and finally his wisdom. enthusiasm, creativity and wisdom. in that order. in other words, run while you're still young. but because we are unable to differentiate between the different stages of our lives, we tend to go through minor dips. also known as transitional periods.

these minor dips, if not managed properly (which is normally attributed to the fact that we do not know when and how to switch our primary strength) can lead to bouts of depression that will send us whirling.. elsewhere. and according to most, prolonged depression does more than depletes ones self-esteem. it creates an illusion, so strong, that one would feel that he needs to "one big right" to justify all his wrongs. but what wrongs were there? exactly, not much. but you see, it's an illusion. mind tricks.

so, back to the point. we need to know when we hit the transition. and activate that in-built (yes, i believe it's pure instinct. written deep in our genes.) ability to fit the changes. we are, after all, adaptable beings. now don't get me wrong. yes, we do go through changes everyday. every single day. but isn't it always the biggest things that gets our notice? the first pimple on your face. the first paycheck. the first smoke. the first failure. i think anyone who recalls (assuming the reasonable person), would be able to remember with somewhat fond memories of the above. you see, they remember. and now that they have gone through it, they can laugh and smile at even a near-death situation that they had faced. but do you remember the first time you dropped some hair?


it's all too simple really: every twenty years. re-invention is the key. the static, ironically, don't stay.


Mandro!

Fatboy Slim - Right Here, Right Now

Fatboy slim.. don't you just love him? great concept to go with the song. love it.

Slit Eyes

Slit Eyes lay slumped on the yellowish-brown sofa which reeked a deep rusty scent, with a half-chewed cigarette resting succinctly between his cold lips. Exhaling the occasional puff and eyes gazing into a re-run of Pulp Fiction, he zoned out every now and then. Slit Eyes knew that his time had come: retirement was never this easy. That was him. As for the cash, sending his daughter through college wasn't an issue. Ensuring his legacy was.

"I love you, Pumpkin."
"I love you, Honey Bunny."
"All right, everybody be cool, this is a robbery!"
"Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of ya!"

The final blow came in and all was left was a shaken Yolanda and Ezekiel 25:17. Ringo was dead.

Happy Feet!

Happy Feet was genius. Pure genius.

Captain Planet, Moulin Rouge, and a HUGE load of religious debate rolled into a film of jumpy furballs. Cute! Good stuff. Only thing is that I felt it was a little underhanded to have marketed this as a kid-friendly show. Misleading, totally misleading. Only the captain planet part seemed relevant, but religion and the Catholic Church and the Protestants and Religious fanaticism?


hmmm...


thought-provoking watch behind that tap-dancing facade. - 5 stars.

i think emo kids should just go home, hide under a blanket and sulk silently to themselves, muttering the occasional swear word. And while they're at it, reassure themselves that life does suck by looking dead straight into the mirror, realising that they do not look good in pink and black and thus life sucks. Weak reasoning, but hey, whatever pulls you through eh.

i think PDA-ers should also go home. If not, get a room. Or if that strapped for cash, just get the condoms and go to some dark alley; it'll seriously save you lots of cash. Honest. Chances are that lust is running this game. So i say get it over with, go shag a horse or something and save the girl: be the gentleman and let her go, unless getting slapped is your kind of thing. Which wouldn't be too hard to understand if it IS your kind of thing. howzat?

i think all the aunties and uncles require more respect. Problem is that they're not demanding it as they should. It's ironic that the new, soft, spare-the-rod-save-the-kid's-smooth-butt generation has gone all hard and cold towards their tamers. i want the iron fist back. teach them a thing or two about grounding. actually, two. 1) grounding = teaching your kids properly. remember to do so when you're parents of your own. remember to start early. don't start so late like me, when you're eighteen and running amok. 2) grounding = grounded. social life = 0. simple as that.

it's funny how we complain so much. but with this train of thought, i figure that it's difficult to think otherwise. doesn't flow you say? well don't worry honey. accuracy was always secondary. humour first. =)

so there, no offense. but we've really gotta grow. grow grow grow. and spurt out quick like we're on dumex 3+



Oh look! Orchard road's empty. Now i can go shopping!

chasing dreams:

3 months, 1 man, plenty of dreams.
1 man, plenty of dreams, he has to re-invent himself.
plenty of dreams, he has to re-invent himself: re-built for survival.

the renaissance.


The Jace v2! ;)

then there was this: one time, i caught a fish, alive.
then there was this: one time, i caught a dead fish, alive.
then there was this: one time, i caught a live fish, dead.
then there was this: one time, i caught a fish, dead.

moral of the story: don't play with your food, kids.

what would it mean, if i gave you my hand?
would you take me like a queen:
every other minute, kissing my feet?
or just ride me like a fool?

what good would it do, taking my hand?
being my love, i pray, eternally:
always having you as a shoulder?
or just to boost your social status?

telling your mates what a chick i am,
while i'm there that is.
and then saying how much of a slut i was,
sex, drugs, smokes... and sex.

queen-slut, princess-whore.
royalty bullshit galore!
so what would it mean?
so is it: all about the cream?

bring me up, and cheapen me.
and they say it was meant to be.

call it self praise, but i really love this little passage i wrote. (it's the pink text over the coffee mug if you can see it.)

sweet october embrace:

Her kiss left an aftertaste you can't shake off. Bitter poison that was sweet; poison that flirted with your tastebuds, causing you to have it all at once, igniting the erotic side that you've suppressed for too long now. It's put you on a high, lusting for more of that taste... Poison. You could blame her, or you could fault the poison. But it doesn't matter: since the two are one. COFFEE.

So sweet that october embrace, smitten in the midst of spring. Lips locked over caffeine. They taste the same and you're left intoxicated. You sit there ditched, and realise that winter is not far off, and yet the taste still lingered. And soon enough, the bitterness would turn it numb, and i guess it wouldn't really matter anymore.

so i leave you with a quote: courtesy of Family Guy ;)

Peter: A guy at work bought a car out of the paper. Ten years later, Bam! Herpes.


More like "Bam! Irrelevance!"

outcry.

controversy? or are those cries of one holding out of a hero?

Don't we all hold out for a saviour?
Last line of defence cracks; and desperation sets in
Where's our hero? superman? spidey? whoever!
Do you not hear us? Set us free, we say! Set us free.

City Square, twelve-oh-three, we stand fallen.
Silence crept in like an angel amongst men.
Our once impregnable fort: oppressors delight,
Nothing less than a miracle. O God, just this once.

Oh God, just this once.
We believe, O Lord. We believe.
Or is this too late? Gone?
Are we to perish like our idols?

Oh Lord, just this once.
I swear I'll be a good kid.
I swear to listen to my folks.
Just this once, save us all.

Cries of such echoed through the City walls.
Desperate shots at redemption, but were they heard?
If so, where was He? Time was of essence.
With slit throats, there He was.

There He was. All along.
Cradling us, His tears on our wounds.
"I'm sorry, it's time to go." we heard.
And hidden we went into the shadiest of darkness.

convince me.

convince me
to do as i should.
convict me
of all my sins.

convince me, convince me.
that it's all worth the cause.


don't ask me what that's about. btw, it's coming out of my latest song. so, :) be nice.

on a lighter note....








HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~~~! HARDO GAY!



cheerios fellas!

come on!

this is how you remind me.

i'm sure we all know about living the moment.

rhythmic manipulation under techno beats, early morning late august. it's september: i hope crazy dog dies down. can it be? that coincidence would have it: morning glory in september.


morning glory.

friends, it's spring. time to bloom. =)

to argue.. properly = Fellowship

Today's Argument Format:

A: Presents Conclusion
B: Counter-Conclusion
A: Conclusion
B: C-Conclusion
...
A & B: Deadlock
---

e.g
A: Yes!
B: No!
A: Yes!
B: No!
...
A & B: Yes... and No?

We notice that this method produces a lack of efficiency and eventually is unproductive. To achieve greater social cohesion, this is something that one may consider to use before saying anything, then regretting you ever said it. And maybe slap oneself while one's at it.

---
Proposed Argument Format:
A: Conclusion
B: Counter-Conclusion
A: Premise A
B: Premise B
A: Premise A'
B: Premise B'
A: Premise A"
B: Premise B"
A: Conclusion
B: Counter-Conclusion
A & B: Compromised/Mutual Conclusion
---

NB Premise A and B, A' and B', A" and B" have to complement each other. ie, arguing over a common ground.


This brings me to a point that has always crossed my mind. The very basis, I feel, of a successful argument (by successful, I don't mean that there necessarily has to be a 'winner', for if you look at it, there is no winner, only a bragger.) is a common subject to argue upon. For example, there is no way an argument over toilet paper is going to be based on pattern for one, and hamsters for the other. If you do not feel that you are able to bring your point across from one aspect, you either a) attack from another flank, or b) back off.

I think the point of an argument is really to have a compromise, more than an induction of faith. Therefore, one should only do so while trying to get an agreement out of it. I know that this is pretty much like having a shirt that fits all, or at least try to. So how are we to accommodate the headstrong and tractable? dense and.. not so dense? Here's a proposal: We don't do anything! As they are, they make the world as eclectic as it is. Without them, we would just be drones. Without them, there would be no leader-follower relationships, just comrade-comrade relationships. There would be no politics, no religion, no competition, not a scent of bloodshed for that matter. Basically, a FELLOWSHIP. But as we all know, this is not really possible on a larger political scale (see Eastern Bloc, USSR and CCP. Notice also that their structure was much like the fellowship style, with a single leader(s)). We need the balance. Therefore, we leave them as they are. They go on to be leaders. To be people of vision, and character, or lack of. So go on, create a ruckus and maybe don't embarass yourself too much!

But for the regular unambitious blokes (ie peasants), the aforementioned format may just suit you just nicely. :P

I'm not a professional argument... guy, but I am kinda well-built in the common sense area if I do say so myself and it really puzzles a person as worthless as myself as to how it isn't obvious enough. heh.



if you didn't get what i just said above, just remember, "happy happy joy joy" isn't getting us very far unless we do something about it. :)

cheers.

They're Humans!

DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.. i think.

He lay in the silence, entrenched in circles of gossip. Like a shot bear, tranquilised and crippled, as hunters cautiously gather their game. There's obviously nothing he could do about it. Lying there was probably his best move. This was not like chess: "My turn, your turn.". Not a game, governed by rules and respect. After all, resistance, as they say, is futile. revenge isn't. The Human stood there, an arm in a cast, injured by my very jaws, being an epitome of their class. Hurt.

Ten of them in all, turning up with sawed shotguns firmly in their grips. They were stricken with fear, yet enough courage to put a couple into his thick hide. They were people, enraged and bent on revenge, returning with the anger of a beaten down beast. Before he even went savage, the trigger had been pulled, sending an acute pain in his exposed abdomen. Bear, as he is affectionately known to his victims, fell to his knees, with another two bangs right into his already weakened spine. The People saw, as "spineless piece of shit" (his other more affectionate name), went down, finally. They witnessed the tall and mighty being, hitting face first onto the cold, hard ground. Almost frame by frame too. You can't blame them, honey. It's almost too typical of their race. Analytical, and petty. Counting in cents rather than dollars. Also, pitiful as individuals. Bear would have been right to think that they were easy targets. like hey, they're humans. what's the most they could do?

Now he knows. Bear lay there, sprawled across the ground, motionless, with occasional moans for mercy. They didn't hear him, or rather, chose not to. What should we do? Take his fur? We should let him go! No! Take him with us, make us champions! Let him rot? They were still encircling him when he let out his final cry. He probably didn't intend it to be, but that really depended on the finger on the trigger. so small, in physique, yet enough to exterminate yet another one. Again, out of fear, they let him rest after a cracking shot, exclaiming, not the end, but their dominance.

They stood there as the beast faded away. This wasn't what they intended it to be. They merely wanted revenge, but got so much more. But, who complains when they have more? Who, in sight of survival, would dare create a resistance? Not the humans. Their idea of survival is cohesion, and society. Neither did "spineless piece of shit". His idea of survival was also co-operation, and if he could speak, i assure you, he would have found their common ground. Alas.

Make us champions, they said. Make us champions.
Hold us in reverence.
That you may see us in light.
And sing my name forever.
sounds almost cultish.

you can't blame them, honey. They're humans!

heh. cheers fellas :)

silly.

silly little games we play.
out of love, out of war,
all's fair or as they say.
like you and me and Calvinball.

silly little games we play.
rules? what rules? unheard of.
less brutal than say, karate.
but surely more painful, nevertheless.

silly little games we play.
like 6 and 7, chasing frights.
hey, chill, just a game? nay,
it's all about bragging rights.

silly little games we play.
a lil potshot, bang bang bang.
perhaps a bruised eye to join the fray,
we've both been stung by serpent's fang.

silly little games we play.
make a gambit, at such cost.
hoping that it would repay.
but nope, you're just lost.

silly little games we play.
silly silly silly dilly.
dilly dilly dilly silly.
inny meeny miney... kiddy.


silly. silly. silly.



i've no time for this,
and yet it's pulled me apart.
now to piece it up together, again.
don't worry, it can't be that hard.


Oh Really?