In Continuum.

It began at 6.45 in the morning, waking up bright and early for the day to begin. The night before was thoughtful, and that isn't something you want to have while being in bed at three, knowing that you have to wake up in less than four hours. But I made up a music video in my head to the tune of Aqualung's Strange and Beautiful. It involves the story of a scientist and his love relationship with a robot he created. As a challenge, I attempted to insert in random objects like a cup of milkshake and batteries. I am satisfied with the end result, but also frustrated that I spent so much time thinking of an imaginary music video instead of trying to fall asleep. Then again, the attempt to fall asleep would have kept me awake anyway - so, great success! So, this morning was a tiresome one, but the ride down the expressway on the Wheels of Love - or 151e - cheered me up immensely. Of course, meeting Shariff, the chawanmushi man, anywhere is always an enjoyable experience. The speedy ride to school was delightful, not to mention the fact that I was the very first person in the classroom, and that has been the case for some time. I am beginning to develop a strange attitude that resembles Mickey Rourke's outlook on life - at times, I cannot seem to care. There was a quiz I did not study for, and it was happening in about forty-five minutes. Instead, I read online reviews of Watchmen and psyched myself up for the movie next week - NEXT WEEK! 

I managed to secure a good topic for the ceremonial speech in class today, and I hope this strategic move will help me gain a few points with Bob. It also feels good to know that the topic - mother - has been reserved exclusively for me, and me only, simply because I asked about it. Aside from that, I had quite a bit of fun hanging out with Nurul after school to practice our impromptu speech while waiting for her class to start at 11.30. Oh, by the way, I think I did OK for the quiz that I did not study in. I honestly think that I did very well for it, though I'd have to wait till the results are dished out. I am not sitting very well with the fact that every question carries two marks, but I suppose we just have to roll with the punches. I felt rather confident with my answers, and such a confidence stands at a stark contrast to the level of confidence I had yesterday for that paper. It wasn't exactly a disaster, though there were casualties on the fields definitely. I just had a lot of fun spending time with some friends at school, just hanging out and then telling them about how I feel on things. Everything from traveling to marriage, from Mecca to female bathrooms. It was enjoyable, even for small conversations like that. At that time, though, I didn't know that the day only served to get better. 

Oh, before that, I read in the newspaper that the little child actors from Slumdog Millionaire are being hailed as heroes in their home country of India. They were hired from the slums in real life, and grew up there with their parents in horrid conditions. It just makes me feel so happy to learn that, because of the film, they have managed to move out from their slum and into an actual house in India. It's interesting to observe how their own lives have been changed, much like Jamal's life in the story line of the film. You know, from a "slumdog" to a millionaire after joining a television show. They aren't really millionaires right now, but at least they made it somewhere, and anywhere is better than where they came from definitely. I was really delighted when I saw all the "versions" of the characters appearing on the red carpet at the Academy Awards, all three versions of the same character through different time periods, coming to this grand event on the other side of the world. I thought about the shock and wonder that must have went through their heads, and the life that they must be living right now. It's probably not anything close to be extravagant, but it is a better life, and that's the whole point. They are in a better place now, and we aren't even talking about death. I am just happy for them, really, from the bottom of my heart. 

I took a long train ride from one side of the island to the other, from Dover to Pasir Ris to be exact. It was strange just how many people were traveling in the same direction on the train this morning, and I had to stand on my own two feet most of the time throughout the journey. That didn't stop me from whipping out my Macbook to watch the latest episode of Lost though, because John Locke apparently comes back to life - somehow. I was lucky enough to get a seat when the trains were nearing the Tanjong Pagar area, and I sat down to watch the episode from my Macbook, which was also how the time passed like the wind, or the scenery outside the windows. The significant other and I purposely set up this day to celebrate our survival of the week. You know, I had my life-draining week with the exams and the assignments, and she had her own exams to deal with on Monday and Friday. So, in celebration of our survival, we decided to meet up and just chill out, have some fun. I decided to go over to her place, since I miss her like a badly calibrated machine gun that is completely off the target. Also, I think her mother likes me, or at least I think she likes me. Showing up and talking to her a bit every once in a while earns me important face points, something which I'd very much like to gather over the next couple of months. 

Interesting fact: the significant other lives right on top of a bomb shelter. In fact, her block has a bomb shelter sign right outside the lift lobby. The newer flats in Singapore supposedly have bomb shelters in their homes, but people use them as storerooms anyway. Her house had a bomb shelter too, until their "stuff" started to pile up, and they had to put everything inside the bomb shelter. So, everybody decided that it'd be wise to have the bomb shelter be located in the minimart downstairs, and I swear it is cleverer than it sounds. That is the place with a whole bunch of food, water, and everything you might need to survive an extra air raid or something like that. It actually sounds pretty brilliant, and I was quite surprised that my own condominium does not have such facilities. Though, to be honest, I was expecting there to be some kind of underground dungeon somewhere, all stacked up with food and water just waiting for people to hide inside for years on end. You know, like some great nuclear holocaust or something like that, and everybody would scramble into this underground dungeon, thing. I certainly did not expect it to be an everyday minimart, which is rather amusing to me. Who would have thought, that the minimart could potentially save lives? 

We hung out at her place and took silly photographs, and we made a little wedding card for a family friend of theirs with my Macbook. The result turned out great, and she topped it all off with a little string tied to the top. The Duo of Awesome struck yet again, and we created something out of nothing, within the span of a very short time, something that is mind-blowing and out of this world. OK, it was just a pretty wedding card, but I felt good doing something for the family, even if it really wasn't too much of an effort. First of all, it does give me a bit of brownie points with the mother for putting in some effort to please her. Also, having the words "Made on a Mac" on the back of the card also meant some kind of advertisement for the father - who is on the verge of getting one for himself, yet still deciding. He needs a little nudge out of the door, and it is all a part of my plan to make him come over to this side of the fence. It is better on this side of the fence uncle, the grass is greener over here. At least over here, our computers don't get sick, and everything just looks nicer and cooler. Oh, and don't forget the fact that it was your daughter who introduced it to you in the first place. You know what to do when the time comes, yeah?

We made a little trip down to E!Hub (yes, it has the exclamation mark), and had dinner at our favorite restaurant. At least customers trickled in this time, not like that other time when it was stashed out in the corner of things. I think the management of Fig & Olive really needs to consider where they decide to put their stores, because you don't put it in the corner of a mall right next to a two-dollar chicken rice store and a hair saloon. It's not good business! I thought the branch was going to shut down in a matter of days, but I was glad that it was still holding up when we got there. So, we got in and made our orders, and let's just say that it tasted rather normal as compared to all the other times that we have eaten there. It's usually at the branch at Vivo City, which is probably why everything tasted ten folds better. But I was hungry, and the garlic bread was choked with butter in every hole of every pore. The only waiter was this malay guy who tended to everything, and he was positively amused by our antics at the table. We waved our hands in complete synchronization when we asked for water and bill, and it's funny to see his reaction to our silliness. Oh, the things that we do with each other. 

On the way home, I rescued a snail from its imminent death. It was in the middle of the pavement, and she almost stepped right on it when we left her place. So I picked the little snail up by its shell and stuck it on a lamp post and away from all the ferocious ants. I stuck it a little too high, but it wouldn't come out no matter how hard I pulled. So I left it there, and I hope it doesn't have a hard time coming down afterwards. I saved an animal today, and I am happy, despite the fact that the strap on my River Island bag snapped as I was crossing the road. Apparently, according to my mother, the manufacturer sewed too many holes onto the leather, causing it to weaken and tear under the weight of the Macbook. I really love that bag, and I wish dearly that my mother would bring it back. Anyhow, the cab trip home was also particularly enjoyable, hearing how the driver is doing well financially amidst all the mess in our economy. He has a son who is the captain of a ship, a daughter working in a hospital, and a son who aspires to be the captain of a plane. He earns a decent amount from driving tour buses, and the cab driving is really just to relief his brother. It is refreshing to learn that someone, in this economical climate, is contented with what he has. I gave him a little more than the taxi fare and asked him to keep the change, because I was that happy, and I still am.

So, do you remember a genuinely happy day? I mean, when all these little trivial things add up to make the whole day so memorable? There are things that are better left unsaid of course, little moments that are better kept as whispers between two people. But she knows what they are, and I know what they are, and that is all that matters I suppose. For now, a little silliness with Photobooth before I retire to bed. Enjoy! 

I have no idea where this entry will be going, because that is kind of what you get when you take a break from a habit like that. Things happen, and they aren't written down somewhere like it should have been. So they kind of crashed together into this multi-car pile up, and the vehicles were towed away before reporters could take a picture of it for their tabloids and newspapers. I hate that feeling though, whenever I sit down in front of my computer, the blank editing screen stares back at me, beckoning me to type something. I like the feeling of feeling up that space with words, it makes me feel somewhat accomplished for some strange reason. Yet, there are times when the topic of the day slips my mind, and I forget what I wanted to talk about. The feeling of letting something like that slip away is agonizing, at least for me, someone who holds so much importance in typing everything down onto an internet website. Anyhow, like I said, I have no idea where this entry will be going, which is normal after such a break. Any breaks, really, induces such a disorientation somewhat, whether or not you are taking a break from school, or work, or just taking a break from taking a break. You almost always take some time to get back on your own feet, to get that continuum going again. 

Oh, let's begin with Monday. The Academy Awards happened on Monday, and I missed the actual telecast like every other year because I had something less exciting to do - school. Then again, it's not like award shows are very popular any longer, everybody seems to be bored out by its length and its predictability. Which is also why, in recent years, people have been focusing a lot more on what the celebrities are wearing, what are they not wearing, what kind of hairstyle they have, who they brought as a date to the event, all those trivial little things that we really shouldn't be caring so much about. So the awards were given out, and I suppose there are very few surprises this year, since the nominees are generally rather weak for the most parts. I don't think there were any movies last year that came across to me as being a definite classic in the years to come, but I suppose we have to make do with what we have. The nominees are not the strongest, but I suppose the best film won the category for best picture. I'd say that the Best Actor category this year was probably the surprise, though not exactly a shocker. Sean Penn definitely deserved the award, but I feel that Mickey Rourke deserved it a whole lot more. It's not like Penn hasn't already won the award before, and it's just sad that he is going to be remembered as "the guy that stole the Oscar from Mickey" instead of the guy that actually deserved it. 

I think hosting an award show like that is a difficult thing, and planning it is even more difficult. At such, I feel that people can be overly criticizing of these award shows, calling them predictable and boring. I think it is unfair to say that an award show is predictable when the format hasn't changed for the most part. Like, it really isn't their fault if you can correctly guess the winners of the categories or something, or that there aren't that many good films to be nominated in a given year. It becomes slightly annoying to me how, after every Oscars in the recent years, you get people on the internet complaining about how bad the show was, and all those nitpicking starts to come up all over the internet as well as the morning paper the very next day. It's just that you really only get five nominations, at best, in most categories. And with every nomination, some other film is going to be displaced, and people are going to be pissed off no matter what you do or say. Hugh Jackman, on the other hand, did a fantastic job. I think he did such a great job, that he is even better than all the other previous hosts who are supposed to be hosts in the first place. To be honest, I think the show doesn't really need a host. But it isn't his fault that he had to play the role, and I think he played it tremendously. 

Oh, the December rain is here at last, delayed for a full two months or so. It has been raining, without fail, every afternoon of the past week, and I am a very happy man because of that. Sure, the bad weather makes my knees hurt like I have a screw lose in there between the joints, but the weather does call for good thoughts and nice naps. With the afternoon rain coming down hard almost as if it has been scheduled, I tend to be trapped in school when it happens, especially on days when I have afternoon classes. That also led to a lot of work being done in school, researches completed ahead of schedule, and long bus rides home on crowded buses. But things have been kind to me for the most part, seats are usually readily available. By the way, a big shout out to bus services that end with the letter "e", because they really do save a lot of traveling time in the mornings. I took 151e for the very first time this week, and let's just say that I have never felt a speedier bus ride in my life. The "E" stands for "Express", and it completely lives up to its name. From where I boarded the bus, it went straight from there to my school without stopping anywhere along the way - how amazing is that. It was like a magic school bus all for myself, and the other passengers were there because I allowed them to. OK, getting a little egoistical here, but I live for cheap thrills at times. Who doesn't like the sight of passing bus stops one after the other anyway. 

Speaking of bus rides, perhaps it'd be interesting to move on to the things that I have seen lately. I love cold bus rides in the mornings as well as the ones on rainy days. As long as I am properly protected against the cold, I find long trips like that rather enjoyable for the most part. There is something about long bus rides through a storm that I find to be particularly enjoyable, the way the rain is reduced to a thin strip of water as it hits the windows at high speed. They are like needles on a compass, all pointing in the same direction for a moment until the winds decide to change. Then you get the great big puddles by the side of the road, and the way the water bursts out into a pair of wings on either side of the passing car for a split second. It almost always brings up the memory of my drama instructor standing underneath an overhead bridge in high school one day while waiting for a cab to go home. A car passed, it spread its wings, and he happened to be in the way of it. He was quite a distance away when it happened, but we all heard him curse so loud and with such rage - it was so funny. So like any other week that involves long bus rides, I have been observing the human conditions, from the kind school girl that gave up her seat to a blind man, to the woman that shoved me aside because she wanted to talk to a friend of hers at the back of the bus. I've seen it all, until this morning. 

I was fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to sit behind a crazy man this morning, and by "crazy", I mean exactly that. He didn't look particularly different from the other passengers, but his constant beating of his palm against his left thigh singled himself out. Aside from that though, he was talking to himself in a language that nobody else understood, with a bit of English here and that which I managed to discern every now and then. He seemed to be particularly fascinated with buses and bus stops, often shouting out the bus numbers and then saying something like "I told you!" in the mean time. He had his ear phones plugged into his ears, and I initially suspected him to be this overly enthusiastic man about the music he was listening to. That was until I realized that he wasn't exactly singing, nor was he speaking in a language that anybody understood. The beat that he kept with his palm was the same for the entire length of the journey. Once in a while, he'd run his head into the seats in front, then continue talking to himself about buses and, well, things. Three things, he repeated throughout the conversation with himself. 1) I'm dying! 2) Handcuffs! 3) I will go commit suicide! He said all of the above in that order, with intervals of about five minutes, and almost always with a smile on his face. It was a little disturbing, and I sat behind him throughout the way, wondering what drove him over the edge. 

I saw something really beautiful this morning while passing by a park. It was a small park, so nobody ever really goes there in the mornings anyway, and then park benches were deserted when the bus passed by. There was a wooden table and bench set in the middle of it, the kind that you see around schools where people would be studying all the time. The flowers from the tree right next to it must have fell overnight, because they formed a neat pink circle at the bottom of the tree where the table was. So, half the table was completely covered in those pink flowers, while the other half remained completely the same as before. The ground around it was also covered in them, like some kinda carpet somebody left behind and forgot to retrieve. It was a beautiful sight, even if it really only lasted for a while. It made for a picture perfect photograph, but it was a pity that I didn't have a camera better than the one that came with my phone. Anyway, it was a pretty sight, something that cheered me up a little bit on my way to school. The same for the rainbow in the skies on Wednesday evening after the storm when I came home. Everybody started taking pictures on the bus right before I got off at my stop, and I was just wondering what the fuss was all about. So I turned the corner, got through the gates, and then there it was - a rainbow shooting out seemingly from a balcony on my block and into the skies. Simple things like that, I felt, make me feel good, even if it was just for a little moment. So right there and then, I took a picture of it, and sent it to the one person I wanted to share the moment with, like every other moment before and after that moment. This is what I sent over:

So, Godzilla the monster rose out from the sea, right, and he tore through the city like bowling ball through a miniature science project made of ice cream sticks. He goes on a rampage through the city streets, in between office buildings, destroying all the roads and the cars and the street lamps and the apartments, usually for no apparent reasons at all. The pitiful little human beings would be running for their lives, trying to escape the burning city - usually Tokyo - to safety. The military would be engaged most of the time to stop this beast from destroying the rest of Japan, but it is usually to no avail. Godzilla is usually too strong for us humans, and he'd just step over the tanks and then swallow the fighter jets. After all, nobody can destroy the radioactive lizard from the sea, unless it is some alien monster from outer space, or some other radioactive monster from the sea. This is usually when another monster comes into play, another monster flying in from the clouds to destroy even more apartment and office buildings. They'd usually hate each others' guts, and they'd start blasting energy waves at each other. Then they'd go into a brawl, and we all know what happens when two really fat drunk men fight in a tiny bar - total annihilation. 

Though, to say that he rampaged through the city would be an over-statement, somewhat, since he usually moves at the speed of molasses. He doesn't move very fast most of the time, and I never really got to know why as a child. Now that I have grown up, though, he probably moved at that speed because if he moved any faster, the miniature set of the city would have been destroyed too quickly. It was, after all, filmed in the studios, and you really only have so much space to begin with. Of course the man in the giant zip-up costume moved that slowly, because it was all for economical reasons. Or maybe it was also because he couldn't really see through the rubber mask, and that is why he threaded his way carefully. Even his enemies never moved very fast either, which makes their ultimate showdown rather amusing to watch. Two giant lizards, pissed off at each other, takes the longest time to dash towards each other. It's ridiculous now that I think about it, but I enjoyed it as a child anyway. I was a fan of the monster movies, any by that I mean anything that wasn't human. I started from those cheap Godzilla movies back from the 70s and the 80s, and then even one of the later ones they made in the 90s. I even bought the Godzilla toy figurines in Taiwan, because I was such a fan. 

I suppose I just have a love for destruction, to see little plastic buildings crumble to the ground. Godzilla was known as the King of Monsters, and I suppose it isn't far fetched to have such a claim. Yet, there has been a lot of other movie monster which I'd prefer over our giant lizard friend. Most monster movies are pretty lousy though, and that has been the case for the most part. Good monster movies don't come by very often, though humans still harbor the secret love to see everything that they know being pulled down by a single mighty swoop. I was just reading a list of the most "half-assed" movie monsters ever to hit the silver screen, and let's just say that you can't help but lose faith in the genre of movie monster. That list only feature five monsters, but I am sure there are a lot more of them out there. You know, the kind of monsters that make you want to put your palm to your face and then give a loud sigh. We have the Gingerbread Man, a bed that eats people, a machine that eats people, a lift that kills people, and giant furry monster bunnies (who are really cute). There are a lot of movies out there that are as bad or worse than the above described monsters. I suppose it really goes to show how horrendous the genre is. 

To me, the genre can sometimes be a guilty pleasure though. I mean, I love my war, my dramas, my romance, my comedies, so on and so forth. But once in a while, you really want to give a monster flick a shot, because they are just fun. By monster, though, they need not be bigger than a car for the most part, because they could be small and still cause a lot of damage. The Gremlins is probably one of my greatest guilty pleasure, knowing that small furry animal could "give birth" to many other disgusting versions of itself, once water is applied. Everybody loved that little furry thing, and I even have a childhood friend that looks somewhat like it. Then for one reason or another, water always somehow finds its way onto its skin, and all hell will break lose. Humans are usually the victims in this case, and I loved the Gremlins movies. My favorite parts are almost always the transformations, especially when you are dealing with monsters that transform from one form to another. Like the protagonist in The Fly, when he transforms from a human being to a human fly. Bonus points if the movie uses minimal computer generated effects, and more on old school make-ups and animatronics. That movies was positively disgusting, but that's what a monster movie should be. 

I was asked in class the other day, if there was a movie I watched in childhood that disturbed me. It was Bob that asked me the question, and I mentioned to the class that the second Aliens movie really made me uncomfortable. I'd like to change my answer now though, but I will mention which other movie tops Aliens in terms of how much it disturbed me. You know, the scene from Aliens when the little alien bursted out of the chest of that poor woman, and she had to be torched to death and stuff. I've always preferred the xenomorphs though, over the Predator aliens somehow. I mean, just look at the xenomorphs, they are probably the most powerful alien life form every to be conceived for the medium. It's just the perfect killing machine, with that curious little mouth in that ferocious big mouth. Then we have the tail that cuts everything into half, and then the fact that it is covered in natural armor. Even if you shoot at it with a bullet, the acidic blood would probably burn your skin and, in turn, kill you. It doesn't get anymore awesome-er than that. I've never had much lover for the Predator though, probably because of all the weapons that it uses to defeat its enemies. You know, all the laser beams and the knifes and the blades, it just makes them less of a movie monster and more like a really pissed off E.T. I've never liked the Predator aliens, and no prizes for guessing who I rooted for in the Alien Vs. Predator movies. 

So, I prefer the xenomorphs over the predator aliens, though most people would disagree with me. I really only know of one other person who agrees, though I don't exactly mind, considering how special it makes me feel about myself. Anyway, perhaps I just love the idea of a whole colony of xenomorphs, kinda like a whole colony of really ferocious ants. Though, I must say, the way that they reproduce is just a little stupid and inefficient. I mean, you have a queen to lay all the legs, and then the face huggers come out and they supposedly attach themselves to a life form while they plant the seed into its body, right? And then the seed becomes an miniature xenomorph, and it bursts out of the chest. So, what happens when you don't have human beings just standing around for the face huggers anyway, what happens then? The movie next actually explained that, and it is something which just doesn't make any sense at all. Anyhow, I still love the Alien movies, even the one that everybody loves to hate - Alien Resurrection. I mean, the xenomorphs learned to swim in that movie, and it doesn't get any better than that. 

Now, moving on to bigger creatures. I love Godzilla, and even the American version was a childhood favorite of mine. With that said, though, there isn't a big market for big monster movies anymore. Cloverfield last year came out and made quite a killing at the box office. But let's admit it, that movie really wasn't very good, and the monster itself appeared for about ten minutes at best, all blurry and shaky via the handheld camera of the protagonist. The monster design was strange, and I really couldn't feel the adrenaline rush that I usually get from giant monster movies. I mean, the monster comes in the form of loud roars most of the time, for the majority of the movie. You don't see it very often, and supposedly it was done on purpose to give the audience a sense of mystery. But then again, this is a movie about a giant movie monster, what mystery do you need? Godzilla, the Japanese version, was upfront about what it was and what it did. It was a giant radioactive lizard that liked to smash things and blow things apart with its radioactive heat wave. That was it, and it has a small cult following of fans around the world because of that. Given the circumstance, the classic Godzilla would probably blow the Cloverfield monster out of the waters and into outer space. Hell, it already did so with the American Godzilla, I am sure Cloverfield's not going to be too big a challenge. 

So, drum roll, the greatest movie monster in my opinion - The Thing. Yes, the thing is called The Thing, and we are talking about the 1982 movie by John Carpenter. That movie probably has the most repulsive movie monster in human history. This monster can transform into anything he wants, and you can't exactly kill it unless you burn it with a flamethrower or blow it up with a dynamite, or something. As a scene in the film clearly portrayed, the thing is able to turn into a completely functional life form by itself even if you cut its head off. In one of the scenes, the thing gets torched by Kurt Russell on a surgery table, and the head separates itself from the body and then turns into this alien spider thing. You really have to see it to believe, and I think it is one of the greatest monster movie ever. Hell, make it one of the best movies ever made. No computer generated effects here, and everything is make up and animatronics. It doesn't get any better than old school filmmaking like that. The Thing still makes me feel uncomfortable, and the fact that the characters were trapped in some Antarctic laboratory makes it even more creepy. The blood testing scene is, in my humble opinion, one of the most tensed up scenes I have ever, ever, ever, witnessed. 

For more of giant movie monsters, click here. 

Sleeping as we do on opposite sides of a venn diagram 

I read the time in shadows on your wall 

The shards of light through the slats on your window

I ease myself from under your languid arm

I fumble on my boots and hear you breathe through your alarm 

And I disarm it for you, you rarely heed it anyway 

I wouldn't want it to intrude upon your dream, school bell ring messing up the play

A note, penned clumsily in this century's type-ruined hand 

Saying gone down the shops for a walk I'll bring back some sandwiches 

And then I kiss your face, the black and the blue 

I tie it into my laces, I don't want the wander blocking up the view

I stumble out into the afternoon 

Still salty from drink and the late night pool 

And I'll be gone an hour at most, and you will be more diagonal

And our head in the inner post, I know a castle swallowed in the swell.

When was the last time you saw one of these

and felt genuinely enchanted?

Sea Sew was in my ears, Lisa's voice was in my mind. She rang a little tune about oceans and rocks, as the bus turned the corner at the traffic light and made its way down the road towards my destination. I kept the graphic novel in my bag, wallet in my hand, and I waited for the bus to pull to a complete stop about thirty seconds from now. Twenty-five seconds, I was at the backdoor of the bus and managed to clear a space around me for alighting. The bus carried on, and the passengers swayed from side to side as they hung on to the little plastic handles that swayed also in unison above our heads. Yet, there was someone who refused to be moved, as he remained stable in the arms of his father. It was a little baby boy, about the age of one, in his father's arms right next to the backdoor of the bus. He had a pacifier in his mouth, and his eyes caught mine as we exchanged long glances. Twenty seconds from the bus stop now, and I stared into the baby boy's eyes for as long as I could, trying hard to make him turn away with my willpower. That is the game that I play with babies I meet on public transports, I try to stare them down and wait for them to turn away. Cheap thrills, but we live for it every once in a while. Little victories like that, at times, go a long way. 

Is left, right?

Or is right, left?

Is right, right?

*

Ladies and gentleman. 

I'd like to begin my speech by telling you how my father almost died last year. So, my father was in the car with my mother, driving out from my estate and came to a traffic junction. He wanted to turn right to go somewhere, and he waited patiently for the light to turn green. Minutes passed, and the red light finally gave way to the green, and it was finally his turn to make the right. He turned the steering wheel, the car turned, and that was when he came face to face with the oncoming traffic, right in his face. He was a meter or two away from death, simply because he made the wrong turn and turned into the wrong lane at the junction. The reason being is that my father is a businessman, and he travels around different countries on a regular basis, which was also why he got a little bit confused as to which lane to turn to. He turned to the right lane that day, when he really should have turned to the left one, like any other cars in a previously colonized country by the British. Yet, having driven in countries like China and Taiwan, my father wasn't exactly in the correct frame of mind to make that kind of judgment. So, my father survived the ordeal and came home to tell us all about it. One question that he asked, though, was this - why do some countries drive on the right, and some countries drive on the left? Can't we all make nice and, drive on the same side of the road? 

[I shall sidetrack a little bit here. You know how it is with a lot of standard speeches from school. The lecturer, Bob, wanted us to give the thesis statement, to preview some points, to tell the audience why the topic is important to them. I don't really think I need, or want, to go into that on my blog. I mean, in truth, it really isn't something that is going to change your life forever. It's just something that is interesting to know, I suppose, and I stated why it is important during the speech just to make the requirement. So let's just skip that part of the presentation and move on to the real juicy bits. Or, at least, they are juicy to me.]

To begin, let's begin with the initial direction of choice - left. It began with the Romans who wanted to start with the left, though there aren't many solid evidences to prove that. Archaeologists have found coins from the Roman empire that depicted riders riding on the left hand side of the road on their horses. Another famous archaeologist also suggested that Romans rode on the left hand side of the road, because of a quarry that he found in England that used to belong to the Roman empire. This road have deep tracks in the ground, supposedly dating back to the Roman times, and the tracks on one side of the road is deeper than the other. The left hand side of the road had deeper tracks, while the other side relatively shallower for some reason. This archaeologist believed that the left side of the road was the direction the Romans chose, because of a temple that they were building in the quarry at that point in time. Rocks were being transported to this temple from faraway places, which makes the wagons heavier with load. So, heavier wagons led to deeper tracks on the road, and that was how he deduced that the left hand side was the direction that the Roman rode.

Yet, the Romans didn't really care too much about which side of the rode other conquered territories rode on. After all, they were never history's greatest megalomaniac to begin with. Whilst it was the Romans that started the trend, it was the British that really promoted the idea of left hand drive (or ride), because everybody used the English System. It was supposed to be the proper way to do things, the more civilized way to do everything. The British wanted to ride on the left because they are very paranoid people - here's why. Most of us are right handed now, and that was the same during the medieval times. Most people were right handed, and they kept their swords to the left when they rode horses. So, imagine yourself as this British dude in the medieval times, riding on the left hand side of the road as you see another dude coming around the corner. He has a helmet on his head, so you don't really know whether he is a friend or a foe. If he is a friend, then everything is fine. But if he is a foe, then he might want to stab you. The thing is that you want to stab your enemies first, and that was exactly why the British preferred to be on the left. It is just easier, or smoother, to draw your sword and stab your enemies if you rode on the left instead of the right. Try doing pulling an invisible sword out of your invisible scabbard right now, and try to stab to both directions. Stabbing to the right while being on the left is just much easier, right? 

That tradition of driving on the left lasted only so long though, because the Americans and the French decided to come in and mess up everything. They have their own legitimate reasons to ride on a different side of the road though, and the explanation would need a little bit of visualization if you don't mind. So, back in those days, they had a lot of horse-drawn wagons, and these wagons were never built with a rider's seat. So what the riders did back then was to side on the left rear horse, because they wanted to keep their right hand free to control the other horses. And because he was seated on the left rear horse, the riders wanted the oncoming traffic to pass on their side of the wagon - left - because it was the only way to keep a safety distance between the two vehicles. The only way for that to happen was if everybody rode on the right hand side of the road, passing each other on their left, and that was the reason why the Americans and French rode on different sides. Yet, from what I've gathered, Americans and French just don't like the British very much. Anything that the British people did, they just wanted to be a little different for some reason. Rugby became American Football, and "football" is called "soccer" for some reason. Not to mention the dropping of the letter "U", and strange pronunciation of "herbs" without the "H" in America. 

So, the Americans and the French wanted everything to be different, and they were. The metric system was actually developed by the French in the late 1700s. I think it was an act of defiance against the British, because they wanted to measure things a little differently. The millimeters and the centimeters, the meters and the kilometers, all of those had to be replaced by the inches, the feet, the yards and the miles. The Americans thought that it'd be a cool idea to measure everything by the length of their feet, and they followed suit. Yet, only a handful of countries in the world still uses the metric system now, and even the French realized that it is a stupid idea. Then there are other measurements within the metric system that almost seems as if they were designed to be different from the British. The grams, the kilograms, and the tonnes got replaced by the ounces, the pounds, and the metric tons. Everything got really confused, which is why we ended up with conversion tables everywhere, and changing it would be too great a task right now. So, as you can see, the Americans and the French have been trying to be different from the British ever since they first started to hate each other, which was probably when Napoleon came around. 

Napoleon was a megalomaniac, because everything has to be according to his wishes. So he went around Europe and conquered a whole bunch of countries, and his journey led him to many countries that rode on the left. So, along with the French flags that Napoleon brought along with him to stuck in the grounds of every conquered country, he wanted all of those countries to also ride on the left - because that's what the French were doing. I suppose it just made things easier for him, you know, to get used to the new country. So that was what he did with every country that he conquered, and that was also what the British people did. The left-hand riding countries were soon being taken over by the French and the Americans, and they sure didn't like it very much. That was also how colonization brought along, amongst other things, left hand drive. This massive confusion lasted all the way until the early 1900s when cars, or auto-mobiles, were created. People didn't really know whether to put the steering wheel on the left, the middle, or the right hand side of the car. It was really until about the 1910s, when Ford came out with the T-Model that standardized everything in America. 

There was the British who started with the trend, the Americans and the French who didn't want to conform, and all the other countries who were kinda forced into adopting a direction somehow. Singapore, as we know, was stumbled upon by Sir Stanford Raffles in 1819. That was the beginning of our colonization, along with a bunch of other countries in the world who were ever colonized. One thing about being colonized is that you have to accept the customs of the colonizing country, whether you like it or not. As if it isn't bad enough that we have to toil in their oil palm planation, we had to drink a kind of tea we didn't necessarily like (high tea), we had to play a kind of sport we didn't necessarily understand (who in the world understands cricket, really?), and some of us even had to put little Union Jacks in their flags, like New Zealand, Australia, Bermudas, and the Fiji Islands. Driving on the left was something that the British people insisted upon the locals, and that is why ninety percent of all the left-hand driving countries in the world were, for a period of time, colonized by the British. Japan is a little different though, because Japan had samurais. 

Well, samurais really liked to kill people. It isn't really in their interest, but they were in that line of work to kill people anyway. So, you really want to kill people swiftly, and they decided that the left hand side of the road would be much better as well, since they thought it'd be easier to draw their swords. Yes, very much like the British, they really wanted to kill people as fast as possible. Besides, when Japan eventually opened up to the West, the British were the ones who helped to design their railway systems and stuff, and that was how the entirely motor vehicle history was born out of. People in Japan started driving on the left, and that remains until this day when you visit the country. Japan was never colonized by any country, but they colonized a lot of other countries. They killed a lot of people, pillaged a lot of villages, and murdered babies during World War 2. Yet, I don't think they ever forced any countries to change to the left hand drive. It's probably because they didn't really see the need to change something so trivial. I suppose different people have different priorities, and Napoleon just had too much time on his hands. Who knows, French Fries probably became popular because of him too. 

So, the ultimate question is this: is there a right side of the road? Is the left, right? Or is the right, left? Or is the right, right? Is the right wrong, or is the right right? Is the left wrong or... well, basically, is there a correct side of the road to drive on? The answer is no, because every country has a legitimate reason to drive on their side of the road. It really is no mystery when it comes to international borders, because you really don't get an epic mess of cars driving on different sides of the roads. More often than not, you are probably going to find a sign like the picture above, pointing you to the right side of the road. Like, when you are traveling from China to Hong Kong, that is probably all you're gonna get as a warning. We can co-exist, I suppose, like animals and human beings, if we could only be careful of the balance. My father still has troubles differentiating the left to the right, and the right to the left. But he is working on it, really, he is working on it. 

Yes, superheroes, that is what I am going to blog about. I don't think it'd be accurate to call myself a fan of the superheroes. After all, the better part of all the superheroes ever known to mankind exists under DC Comics and Marvel, which I've seldom been a fan of. My heart usually lies with Vertigo, for some reason, though there are obvious exceptions most of the time. I am, by no means, an expert to consult when it comes to the superhero genre, and that title strictly belongs to my good friend, MJ. Yet, I still consider myself a fan of comic books, or graphic novels are they'd usually like to be known as, if they have the mouth and the mind to correct you. Graphic novels these days don't necessarily need to revolve around superheroes any longer, though that is not to say that they are obsolete. The graphic novels these days could involve anything from how the last male on Earth survives in a world dominated by women (Y The Last Man), a masked vigilante bent to spread anarchy (V for Vendetta), to traditional fairy tale characters fleeing from their homelands in the storybooks into New York, away from their common enemies (Fables). Superheroes, on the other hand, are still very relevant today, which is why it is a comic book genre that isn't going to die out anytime soon. 

You can call me a geek at times, the way I tend to go on and on about comic book characters from time to time. I mean, I just get so involved in the story that I can lose track of time, most of the time. Hell, I even have the Comedian's badge pinned onto my bag, so I guess that says a lot about how deeply poisoned I am, albeit so sweetly. I am the kind of person who'd ponder over who is the most powerful comic book character ever created, in terms of their superpowers. It may turn off a few readers out there, but just give it a shot when you are stuck on a long bus ride with your iPod low on battery. Your mind wanders to places, and I am proud of the places that it goes to at times. I have concluded that Dr. Manhattan and Herbie Popnecker are the two most powerful comic book characters ever created, and no possible characters could beat them in an arena fight. Dr. Manhattan has the ability to teleport, to tell the future, and the ability to manipulate objects on an atomic level. His atoms were ripped apart, and he was still able to piece himself back together in no time. Herbie Popnecker has the ability to defeat his enemies with his dead stare, and a giant lollipop. Go figure. 

Amongst all the superheroes, the more prominent ones anyway, I've never gotten into many of them, truth to be told. I mean, I really dislike it when a character is purposefully made to be a superhero, and he almost never gets defeated. Superman is guilty of that, and his only weakness is just really damn lame. Throw little pebbles at him from his home planet and he is going to whimper like a girl because it sucks his powers away. Besides, Batman kicked his butt in The Dark Knight Returns, so that's got to count for something when an alien gets his butt handed to him by a mortal in a fistfight. The whole thing about flying around Earth at light speed just to turn back the hands of time is just cheesy as hell, and it is ridiculous even in the comic medium. I've never had much love for Hulk as well, because he just feels like a giant broccoli to me. He doesn't seem very smart for the most part, and he's just angry all the time. I mean, the whole physics behind his pants just doesn't make any sense at all - they never rip! Those are some really elastic jeans I must say, or does the ultimate Hulk really have a small willy? Only the X-rated version of the Incredible Hulk will reveal the truth, and maybe She-Hulk will know too. What's up with She-Hulk anyway? She's almost as stupid as her male counterpart, and looks a lot like the Jolly Green Giant. 

You know, when you have read comic books for a long enough time, you kinda wish that the superpowers will rub off on you just a little bit. You know, the power of flight, teleportation, mind control, stuff like that. That'd be great skills to have, but that just doesn't happen all that often. The closest feat that I've ever come to achieving superhero powers was when I went on without food for couple of days in the army. That was probably the closest I've ever come, but I'd like to have more powers - why not, right? For starters, I'd really like to have the ability to read lips. I know, it's not exactly a superpower, but I think it is a power nonetheless. Just imagine the possibilities of transcending physical space by reading the lips of people from all the way across the other side of the road, or something. Also, I'd like to have the ability to know what someone is listening to on his or her iPod. Like, I'd be able to tune in to whatever that he or she is listening to if I want to, because I am just curious that way. I mean, teleportation would be great, but I don't want the responsibilities that'd come along with it. After all, what if I teleport myself into a concrete wall or something like that. I am not claustrophobic for the most part, but that sounds positively frightening. 

I have created a few superheroes from time to time, but none as compelling as the ones that I have created, for fun, with the significant other. Allow me to share some of them with you in brief, in regards to their abilities. There's Vista Man and Mac Man, like the computers, only in computerized forms. Vista Man has the ability to pair up with any other conventional superheroes and battle evils, because of his ability to gather "drivers", a mystical element in his blood that allows him to share a bond with other superheroes. Like, the Scanner Man or the Printer Man, and all the other IT equipment men that could be of aid to Vista man. However, Mac Man has all the abilities of a Mac-based computer, translated into a human body. He does everything that a Vista Man can do, but he does it with more style and finess. Mac Man does not contract viruses that keep him out of battle, and upgrades himself from one form to another frequently in relative to his counterpart, Vista Man. Vista Man's upgrades come slow, and there are times when they are deeply flawed. That is also why Vista Man has been the target of many criticisms, and the butt of many jokes around the internet. Vista Man has been sinking slowly into oblivion ever since, making way for new computer-based superheroes. 

Yet, despite all their powers, they stand in awe in the presence of this one man, the superhero to rule them all. Introducing: The De-reason Man. The De-reason Man is exactly how his name sounds like, and he defies reason. There is no known way to destroy De-reason Man, simply because. De-reason Man does not have to explain himself to anybody, not even Chuck Norris. De-Reason Man creates his own reasons, no matter how ridiculous, and he makes it a fact. You cannot kill De-reason Man even if you throw an asteroid at him, because. You cannot kill De-reason Man by splitting his atoms apart, because. De-reason Man can destroy you with a single touch of his fingers, because. De-reason Man is immortal, because. He doesn't need reasons to act - he just acts. He is not bound by physical laws of the world, because he trespasses all of them in his own twisted reasons. Nothing can destroy De-reason Man, because. That is the only explanation he would give you, even if it really isn't an explanation at all. You'd perish without knowing why, because. That is the power of De-reason Man, the power to be unreasonable and thus, doing anything he wants. He is the most powerful entity in the entire universe! Fear him - because. 

Generally, children are OK in my books. I don't think children are "gifts to the world", but at the same time I think they can be adorable and lovable if they want to. I remember that kid that tucked at my shirt at Toys R Us that other time to show me a truck that he was playing with, or that kid at the MRT who waved back at me when I waved to him. You cannot deny that the innocence in most children make you want to give them a pinch on their cheeks, or give them a big tight hug because they are just so adorable. I enjoy observing infants sometimes, the way they have holes for knuckles, and how everything is a miniature version of an adult. I'd try to imagine how they see the world, how everything might look like to them, or myself when I was their age. It must have been very different, and it must have been great to live without knowing what the word "worry" means. But then again, just sometimes, I have the urge to kick little children in their faces. Some children can be a rowdy bunch, especially when they are put together into the same room. They can really get on your nerves, with their inexhaustible energy and their ear-piercing laughs and screams. Sometimes, you just want to put a boot to their faces. 

Still, in general, I think I like children a lot. The problem with our society though, is when some people like them a little too much. I like children in the sense that I like their innocence to the world, and they do say the darnest things at times. Besides, ugly children are hard to come by, and they are almost always nice to look at. I like children just as long as they are not my responsibility, and when they are not running through my legs and chasing each other around the room. But then there are some men who like children a little too much, and they do nasty things to them. I think that is a monstrous act, to pollute their minds with your perverse and demented desires. These people should be castrated and raped in prisons for that matter, and never be allowed to see the light of day after what they have done. That's pedophilia for you, when adults prey on little children to satisfy their sexual pleasures. It isn't enough that older men are going for nineteen and eighteen year olds (still legal), they need to go for children that are even younger than the legal age. Which sickens me to the stomach when I heard about the Saudi Arabian man marrying eight year old girl - what the fuck? I don't usually curse in my entries, but what the fuck?

But, a little piece of news came to me last night that is even more disturbing than pedophilia. I think pedophilia is awful, but at least I have heard of such crimes before. It isn't supposed to be normal, but I have heard of it on the news. I have registered it as "a crime" in my head, but not what I heard last night. Well, technically speaking, what I heard last night isn't actually a crime. But it is still an epic display of stupidity that I cannot begin to comprehend. It involves a 13 year old boy named Alfie, and a 15 year old girl named Chantelle. Alfie looks like he could be 8 years old, while Chantelle looks as if she could be 22. They are from the UK, and they are the parents of a new born baby. That's right, a new born baby. I thought it was a joke as well, like that article on The Onion about the tragic accident at the sperm bank. This time, it isn't some kinda sick joke on the internet, but a real case from UK that has caused quite an uproar over there. A 13 year old boy and a 15 year old girl fornicated, and had a baby in the mean time. If that isn't disturbing enough for you, anti-abortion christians were quoted as saying that they "commend these teenagers for their courage in bringing their child into the world" What the FUCK is the matter with you?

Children that age are supposed to be playing with video games on television, or surfing the internet on computers. Playing soccer in the fields, or just hanging out with friends in school. They are not supposed to be playing with each others' genitals! That's not how it works! You stick to your toy box and she stick to hers. You don't start taking off your pants at 13 years old and stick your genital into hers! That's not what children are supposed to do, and that is also why you keep your children in school. Learn the right values, know that you shouldn't be sleeping around at the age of 13, have a baby, and expect yourself to be "a good father". You know, I think I'd be easier on those kids if they actually saw it as a mistake to have a baby. I think I'd be able to forgive them if it was just a mistake, that he knocked her up accidentally and the baby is all but a mistake of their wrongdoing. At least there'd be some guilt involved, at least they'd feel bad about it. But they refused abortion, and they were excited to have the baby. They even intend to raise the baby and be "good parents"! And how do you intend to do that when there is no sign of your armpit hair, and your voice hasn't even broken yet? 

Let's start with Chantelle, the 15 year old mother of this new born baby. We can't exactly call you a pedophile, because you are a child yourself. So you are just a kid who touched another kid a little too often with too much affection. What in the world did you see in that 13 year old boy anyway? It's OK if you want to date someone your age, you know, or someone a little bit older than yourself. I think it's even more socially acceptable if you are going to date someone who is 20 years old. What in the world do you see in a 13 year old boy, who really looks like a 8 year old in the first place anyway? He is not even old enough for, well, anything! Being his girlfriend is one thing, having sexual intercourse is another thing completely. How do you even bring yourself to be sexually attracted to a 13 year old in the first place anyway. He looks like a little boy, he probably doesn't even know about the bird and the bees until you showed it to him, and his penis is probably the size of my pinky when erected. Nothing about an average 13 year old seems to be very appealing, so what in the world were you thinking when you decided that it'd be a neat idea to have a baby with him? Are you out of your MIND? 

Now you, Alfie, you are just plain stupid. If there is a picture for stupid in the dictionary, it'd be your face plastered all over. You are stupid because you didn't stick with your video games and your soccer balls. You are stupid because you ventured out too far and into the pants of a girl two years older than you. You are stupid because you think that with ten pounds that your father gives to your as pocket money is going to make you a good father. You hardly even know how to be a proper teenage boy, and you expect yourself to be a good father to this child? No, you are not too innocent and naive, you are just being completely stupid. Yes, it is the fault of your parents, but I will get to that in the next paragraph when I get the chance. Right now, you are just the dumbest 13 year old that I know of, and you are the kind of child whose face I want to break with bricks. The right thing to do right now would be to give the child up for adoption, and give her to parents who can actually take care of her properly. I mean, when asked about the financial issues by the reporters, Alfie didn't even know what "financial" means. That is how disturbing the situation is. A child who doesn't know what "financial" means, wants to be a good father and being up a new born baby. You might as well throw the baby to the crocodiles or the apes, and I think they'd do a much better job than these retards. 

Now, the parents - FUCK YOU. You guys should have kept a closer eye on your children, and know when your 13 year old is being way too "chummy" with a 15 year old, vice versa. It really isn't the right time to tell your children about the bird and the bee when they've already gone pass that stage. They already have first hand experience with the bird and the bee, so you really should just try to convince them to put the child up for adoption. There is a reason why parents have the right to decide for their children before they are of legal age - because children before the legal age are still considered STUPID. Whatever that is screwed up with the children is almost always because of bad parenting. You obviously did a lousy job at bringing your children up, and has as a result caused them to be in this grave mess. Yes, they were stupid to have had sex at such a young age, and yes they were stupid to have given birth to the baby. But they are only stupid because you guys we too stupid to realize anything that was amiss. If there is a chance for me to bitch slap the parents with a stick, I probably would jump at the chance. This is when parenting has completely failed, and you have no excuses. The only right thing to do right now is to put the baby up for adoption. If your children can't see that it is the right thing to do, you should be the one doing it. You are supposed to be the rational one, now do the right thing! You don't encourage them and tell them that you guys are "a family" and that you will "pull through". You are a single mother of Alfie's, stop pretending that everything is OK, you imbecile. 

OK, anti-abortion christians, you guys can pull your heads out of your assholes right about now. Abortion is pretty scary stuff, because I think we've all seen that horrific video called the Silent Scream. Yes we know it is scary to have a giant metal pincer coming at you in complete darkness and trying to pinch your head off your little neck. But it is not going to doom you to Hell if you choose to go through with the procedure, because He does not... well, we'll get into that later. Not every women in this world have babies because they want to have babies. Women get raped all the time around the world, and some of them get accidental babies every once in a while. Do you seriously expect these women to go through nine months of pregnancy just because abortion is wrong? I'd like to see one of you idiots get raped one day, and then have the rapist impregnate you or something. I'd like to see how it feels like for you to carry an accidental baby in your stomach for nine months, like a constant reminder on your fridge that you were brutally raped that one time in a dark alley. Instead of being "anti-abortion", wouldn't it be better to be "pro-adoption"? Encourage people under these circumstances to put the child up for adoption, that is the right thing to do. You don't commend on what they have done, are you stupid? They can't even buy candies with the amount of money they get! You are just encouraging a whole generation of irresponsible parents into this world, dumb people. 

I showed this article to a friend of mine, and my first thought was "the kids are screwed". Seriously, all three of them are screwed, no matter how you see it, if the baby isn't put up for adoption. There are parents out there, with steady jobs and a big heart for babies. One of them may be infertile, and that isn't a rarity in today's society at all. They are the ones who want a baby, but can't. Give them a chance to be good parents, and not try to "prove to everyone" that you can be good parents. You don't have to prove anything, because you can't prove anything to anybody. We all know that with your age, and your financial status, and your intelligence (or the lack thereof), there is no way that you are going to bring up that baby properly. I think your entire family should just engage in inbreeding, and make sure your stupid genes remain within your own family. Don't pollute other people, because we don't want your stupidity to spread throughout the world. Keep your stupidity within your own blood, and move to some town in the middle of nowhere and we can forget about it. I feel sad for the baby, and incredibly angry that the parents allowed such a thing to happen. It's unbelievable, really, and it really should be some kind of punishment against stupidity like that. Stupidity, under any circumstances, should never be allowed.