.:Christmas weekend:.

Dear readers,

what a weekend! Is it just me, or is my life just chock-full of dramatic moments? To start off, I got into an accident on Saturday morning. I was stopping at a traffic light not two minutes from my kampung, when this speeding Proton failed to stop and whcaked into the rear end of my 5-month-old car. The result of that particular match-up:





Unfortunately, the driver of the Proton ended up in hospital, probably with fractured ribs. Let's hope he gets better (and that he has insurance - else I might have to sue him).

Am driving my old battered Wira again until they get the BMer's bumper replaced. Well, I guess takde rezeki lah kan? =) Farah was so worried when she heard the news; she couldn't get through to me, which I guess made it worse for her. Sorry, dear.

Gosh got married over the weekend. Congratulations, dude! I'm so happy for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world for being such a great friend, and I wish you two all the very best for your upcoming journey together. Pity i didn't take any photos of you two; I was too engrossed with Laila & Kamal's baby, Sakinah.. She's so adorable!



Well, I guess that's it. Life's great, innit? =)

Regards,

Ahmad

.:I have time to do these things.. Wow!:.

Dear readers,

It's so weird to be the only one in the office (apart from the nice cleaner lady who by the way treats me like a son). I guess it gives me time to reflect on what has been a turbulent year for me.

I never knew I'd be sitting here typing this back in January. Back in January, I still had my life all planned out. I was going to get married to the woman I've loved since 2001, the person I had been betrothed to since 2002, the person I had trusted the most, my best friend, my life. I was doing my courseworks, my thesis, studying hard, trying to make the grade, trying to build a life so I could make her & and the family I'll have happy and secure.

In February, I discovered that what you thought was a white lie, one you made simply to protect the feelings of your loved ones, may end up hurting them the most.

March seemed to fly by quickly, at least after I've managed (or so I thought) to apologise for my mistake. It was in this month I think, that I found out that she had to have surgery to remove an ovarian cyst. was so worried but she told me it was just a minor op. With the benefit of hindsight (such a useless tool in my opinion), I should've rushed back to Malaysia to be with her (and maybe I should've brought along a hockey stick or some other blunt and potentially-death-dealing instrument), but I believed her words, then. How foolish of me.

In April, i was struggling to study and to complete my by-now-approaching-mythical-proportions thesis. i was shooting back and forth from my study desk to the National Archives to the British Library for those rare books and manuscripts.

In May, i sat for my exams. Felt sick and tired of US Constitutional Law but persevered anyway. Su-Yin called to see whether I wanted an interview for my current job. I went through the whole shebang and managed to secure the job, obviously.

In June, I discovered that she actually had one of her ovaries removed. i freaked out, obviously. Felt guilty about not being there. Rushed home as soon as I could. I thought I was coming home to my best friend, but in truth I felt as if i was not needed in her life, as if Iw as no longer important. Many fights ensued, mainly because I could not understand what was going on.

In July, my world fell apart. Enough said.

In August, I came back to work. Put my head down and worked my ass off. Kept telling myself that I will never break. Not for anyone.

In September, I met Farah. Well, I didn't exactly meet her. One should never doubt the effectiveness of the Internet as a means of connecting two people who have never heard of each other before, eh Nads? Experienced the best Ramadhan I've ever had. Alhamdulillah.

Throughout October - November, I was happy, because I've found someone who I think would be perfect for me, with the perfect mix of sass, humility, positivity and faith. But I was afraid that I might not be good enough for her.

In December, I found out I was wrong. =) Thanks, dear.

That's my yearly review over and done with. On the news front, I've developed renal colic (a precursor to kidney stones for those of you without medical inclinations - probably about 90% of you readers), so am on continuous medication currently... always have to remind myself to drink loads of water. Also, I've managed to win a prize for my third year LLB. Alhamdulillah.... apparently my name was read out at the graduation ceremony. Pity I wasn't there to receive the honour. Oh well..


It's been a great year. Looking forward to the next one, though let's hope it's less traumatic than the middle portion of 2005! =)

PS: I have an inkling that it might actually be so so so so much better... here's hoping!



Regards,

Ahmad

.:A time for repentance:.

Tomorrow is but a dream,
Will the sun rise again?
For everything is finite,
and everything will end.

This beautiful world around us
enthralls our heart and soul,
yet it will all be destroyed,
as surely as the young grow old.
Exquisite indeed is His work,
though He deems it to be temporary
For everything must fade,
in the Glory of Allah,
The Lord of Majesty and Bounty.

Ya Allah,
Will I live to see the next day?
Will I live to see another Ramadhan?
Have I repented for my sins?
Have I done enough
to earn Your forgiveness
to earn Your love?

O Lord,
Accept my longing for You,
and let me love You,
even if only as a fraction
of how You love me too.

.:True love:.

Truly this heart loves You
Truly this person yearns for You

Why then
is my love still astray,
why then,
does my longing go unrequited?

Thus so,
even if I were to present to you
the jewels of the seven seas,
thus so,
even if I were to nurture this feeling
with Your gracious bounty of the seven skies
yet my love will never come
yet my longings will remain unanswered
for as long as I do not hope
and beseech Thee for Your Mercy
For as long as I do not shed these tears
and beg for Your sympathy.

Ya Allah, please grant me Your love,
and accept my yearning heart
so that I may know
my gratitude is only
to You.

"Impractically yours, you know?"

Impractically yours,
for there is no happiness
no lingering smile
without your voice
I awake to a brighter day
a gladdened heart,
a lighter soul,
were you to sigh
contented
as we talked through the night
till the morning light.

Impractically yours,
for thoughts of you dominate my mind,
intransigently persisting
never remitting
holding dominion
over all and sundry
as complete as the rule of Rome
as overwhelming as Napoleon's battlecry
"Viva la revolucion!"
and all that jazz..

Impractically yours,
for the world separates us
with oceans and continents,
but I feel you near me,
when you infectiously giggle
at every little thing I say.

What I really meant to say
is that
I M practically yours, damn it.

.:to clarify:.

Okay, so far two guys have called me up asking whether I had proposed to someone. Hmm...

Perhaps with hindsight the previous entry may have been a bit too short. I was just too happy for words then. In any case, all I did was to ask her whether she may be in love with me, because I certainly am. And she said yes.

That’s all folks. Nothing to see here. Move along now. =)

.:Yay!:.

She said yes! =)

.:Darn it:.

Dear Ms RB,

it’s been almost two months now since I’ve gotten to know you. What am I supposed to say? You take my breath away. With your oh-so-charming mix of child-like innocence with maturity belying your tender years, you’ve managed to reduce me to a stuttering fool each and every time we talk on the phone.

Yet when we don’t talk (like today), I realize that I do miss you terribly. I miss hearing you say “assalamualaikum” in that special way that no one else seems able to replicate. I miss the way you always seem to find something good in everything that happens to you and me, the way that that contrasts so explicitly with my sometimes overarching negativity. I miss the way you tend to get embarrassed when it comes to acknowledging these feelings that I know we both have for each other. I miss the way you always seem to know how I feel, which is surprising really since even I don’t know myself that well. I miss… well… you.


.....

Damn it, woman. I think I’m in love with you.

ps: as a favour to someone who I used to love, I have deleted the previous entries which revolved around her. There will be no more references to what has happened. I think she has paid, and is continuing to pay, her dues for it. Cukuplah.

.:Ain't life grand?:.

Dear readers,

How's your day been so far? I don't think it'd be too presumptuous of me to say that most of you would probably agree with me when I say that life is grand, but only most of the time it. Unfortunately the past two days were probably the exception to the rule.

The past weekend was in truth rather harrowing for some of my friends and family. Min's having some problems of her own, and the annoying thing is I can't do much to help her out. She's always been a good friend, and it pains me not to be able to anything other than tell her that I'm always here should she need someone to talk to. On top of that, Uncle Rashid has contracted dengue; when my dad found out, me and him sped off to Shah Alam to donate blood and to be with him.. he looked scared.. kesian. I really felt sorry for him.. he's fallen into some hard times, and again, I feel like kicking myself for not being able to do anything, especially since they rejected my attempts to donate blood (claiming that my veins were not visible enough etc etc.. yadda yadda..). The sight of Narissa crying is something I don't ever want to witness again.

*You can't save the world, Ahmad. You can't. There's just not that much of you to go around to begin with..*

Yeah, tell that to this too-big-for-its-own-good heart of mine, why dontcha?

Oh.. and it worries me that I am starting to have an imaginary sidekick teling me stuff. I need to go out more. :P



Before I go, lemme just put in a special tribute to my mom. She's so worried that her bachelor son won't be able to eat a proper sahur that she prepared some frozen meals for me to bring back to KL.. not only that.. she even prepared the set menu for moi!!!! Allah... truly a mother's love is endless. As my Indonesian maid at home puts it, "sayangnya emak sampai ke mana-mana, sayangnya anak sampai ke tangga saja". She's a smart woman indeed.

Anyway, for you Muslim readers, selamat berbuka puasa!!


BAJOH: Stable at RM23.

Regards,

Ahmad

.:Trying to do the hardest thing:.

..that is, to get to know (and possibly learn to like) myself. Hence the personality tests.

Big Five Test Results

Extroversion (36%) moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and private. Accommodation (60%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly kind natured, trusting, and helpful at the expense of your own individual development (martyr complex). Orderliness (68%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly organized, neat, structured and restrained at the expense too often of flexibility, variety, spontaneity, and fun. Emotional Stability (36%) moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious. Inquisitiveness (56%) moderately high which suggests you are intellectual, curious, imaginative but possibly not very practical.

from similarminds.com

Kind of rings a bell or two huh?

.:Politics:.

Apparently I'm a borderline social democrat..

You are a Social Moderate (55% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (18% permissive) You are best described as a: Democrat Link: The Politics Test on OkCupid Free Online Dating Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

.:Idleness:.

As I’m sitting here in front of the same computer screen I’ve been staring at since 6.45 am this morning (exactly 14.5 hours ago), I can’t help but feel down. I feel like whinging, but I know my life is, apart from the relationship side, actually in a relatively good place. Having said that, I’ve always been a person who puts a lot of emphasis on my personal relationship side so I guess there’s a hollowness there that continuously bugs me whenever I’m idle. Like I am now.

Oh well… like they say, idle research assistants beget the devil.. or something like that.. I’m kinda befuddled to be honest. Am simply too effin’ tired.

A man walks up to a bar and says:
"This ain’t a joke."

Ha
Ha
Ha
Ha

Are you laughing or are you f
a
l
l
i
n
g

down?

I’m going nuts.. OOO NUTS!!

.:The horror:.

As I stepped out of the lift, my thoughts deeply mired in the report due on Friday, I began to walk slowly towards my flat. It’s been a tiring day, and I was looking forward to a little exercise, a nice hot shower, some dinner, and finally some sleep.

Suddenly I saw a fleeting shadow move from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was it just a stray cat? It couldn’t be. It was much too big to be a cat… it was more man-sized, but it had a rather feminine shape to it. I prayed to God that it wasn’t what I thought it was. I quickly reached for my keys and tried to open the door quickly. I heard the door behind me open. I was ready to scream my lungs out…

“Oi Ani! Boyfriend kau dah balik!!”

Sheesh.. it was only the girls from the unit opposite mine.

“Bang, boleh pinjam paper last weekend tak? Kitorang tak baca lagi…” said the girl who I can only presume to be Ani.

Best pick-up line ever, man…

.:Be happy!:.

"(Allah) Most Gracious!
It is He Who has taught the Qur'an
He has created man:
He has taught him speech (and intelligence)
The sun and the moon follow courses (exactly) computed
And the herbs and the trees - both (alike) prostrate in adoration.
And the Firmament has He raised high, and He has set up the Balance (of Justice),
In order that ye may not transgress (due) balance.
So establish weight with justice and fall not short in the balance.
It is He Who has spread out the earth for (His) creatures:
Wherein are fruit and sheathed palm-trees,
Also corn, with (its) leaves and stalk for fodder, and sweet-smelling plants
Then which of the favours of your Lord will ye deny?"
- Ar Rahman (1-13)

.:The Depressed Men's Guide to Kuala Lumpur:. Part I.I

The following is a work of fiction, very loosely based on my own experiences. Okay, not VERY loosely. But still loosely.




As I put down the phone, my life flashed before my eyes. To be honest, it wasn’t a very long show, but man, it certainly jerked a tear or two (Okay, I gushed. But in a manly way. Really). Images of the times we spent together, the times when we used to rent DVDs and watch them over in her house back in London, the times we spent walking in Hyde Park, holding hands like all young couples do.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. When she told me that it was over, that she was leaving me for a former friend, I couldn’t believe it. Not again. Not after all that I’ve been through, the promises that I made to myself, to never again be hurt this way. Not after all the shit I had to put up with, her being the insecure person that she was. She’s changed, that’s for sure. She’s no longer the person she was before. Boy, did she make that clear.

I was stunned. What was I to do? For days I spent my miserable waking hours drowning in tubs of Phish Food (okay, not tubs, but vats). The local grocery store must think I’m some manna from heaven, bringing them luck and good fortune as I drifted my way into the store with a serene smile that comes from consuming about three gallons of ice-cream in two hours, my hands holding two pieces of ten-ringgit notes as I grabbed the nearest (or the two nearest) half gallon bucket (or two) of Phish Food.

As I sat in front of the TV, my t-shirt stained pink from the drippings, I gave a loud belch. Big mistake. Streams of semi-digested ice-cream, which had previously been, well, digesting peacefully in the flabby depths of my stomach, suddenly decided to make a rush for the exits. Unfortunately for me, they all went the wrong way. “Duhh.. let’s all rush out together! Which door should we go for, huh? Duhh.. I can’t read, but I’m pretty sure ‘M-O-U-T-H” spells Exit!!”

Darned semi-digested (yet imaginary) ice-cream rednecks.

To cut a long story short (was it that long a story to begin with?), my face ended up in a bowl which, truth be told, was never actually designed for the human face (it was actually designed for another, less fascinating aspect of the human anatomy. Okay. Correction. For most people, that side of the human anatomy is not fascinating; there are some men, however, who find it terribly interesting. These men usually provoke a very strong reaction from other men, usually manifesting itself in lightning quick sprints in the opposite direction, away from the former).

My gut hurt. My heart hurt. Heck, my head hurts, primarily due to the restrictive nature of the (ahem) ‘bowl’. It was then that I decided that I had to move on. I had to pick up the pieces of this so-called life of mine and try to make it on my own. I had no other choice, really. What else was I going to do? Go on eating tub after tub of ice-cream, growing old and fat, losing my job because I was so fat that I couldn’t get out of the house, becoming a shut-in living on cans of pre-packed pasta? Heck, no! I’m a man! I’ll find another girl! Me no scared! Me Grog! Me have big stick! Muahahaha!

My primeval spirits were roused. I was ready to take on the world. But first…

I have to figure out how to get my head out of the toilet bowl. Hmmm…

.:Al-Inshirah (Solace):.

In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficient, Most Merciful:

"Have we not expanded for thee thy breast?
And removed from thee thy burden,
which did gall thy back?
And raised high the esteem in which thou is held?
So verily, with every difficulty there is relief,
Verily, with every difficulty there is relief,
Therefore, when thou art free (from thy troubles) still labour hard
And to thy Lord turn all thy attention.."

Note to self: It hurts. Yes it does. But you're still breathing aren't you? One day, you'll be okay. One day, you'll be happier than you ever were with her. Till that day comes, though, just keep breathing. A day at a time. A breath at a time.

BAJOH count: RM5.. Great!!

.:solace:.

"All who obey Allah and the messenger are in the company of those on whom is the Grace of Allah,- of the prophets (who teach), the sincere (lovers of Truth), the witnesses (who testify), and the Righteous (who do good): Ah! what a beautiful fellowship!"


"Allah! There is no god but He: of a surety He will gather you together against the Day of Judgment, about which there is no doubt. And whose word can be truer than Allah's?"


"O ye who believe! stand out firmly for justice, as witnesses to Allah, even as against yourselves, or your parents, or your kin, and whether it be (against) rich or poor: for Allah can best protect both. Follow not the lusts (of your hearts), lest ye swerve, and if ye distort (justice) or decline to do justice, verily Allah is well-acquainted with all that ye do."


"Those who believe, then reject faith, then believe (again) and (again) reject faith, and go on increasing in unbelief,- Allah will not forgive them nor guide them on the way

To the Hypocrites give the glad tidings that there is for them (but) a grievous penalty;-

Yea, to those who take for friends unbelievers rather than believers: is it honour they seek among them? Nay,- all honour is with Allah."

Translation of the Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, An-Nisa, 69, 87, 135, 137-139

Coping with loss

In the name of Allah, Most Beneficent, Most Merciful:

"O ye who believe! seek help with patient perseverance and prayer; for Allah is with those who patiently persevere.
And say not of those who are slain in the way of Allah: "They are dead." Nay, they are living, though ye perceive (it) not.
Be sure we shall test you with something of fear and hunger, some loss in goods or lives or the fruits (of your toil), but give glad tidings to those who patiently persevere,
Who say, when afflicted with calamity: "To Allah We belong, and to Him is our return":-
They are those on whom (Descend) blessings from Allah, and Mercy, and they are the ones that receive guidance."
(Translation of Al-Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, Al-Baqarah 153-157)


"By the Fig and the Olive,
And the Mount of Sinai,
And this City of security,-

We have indeed created man in the best of moulds,
Then do We abase him (to be) the lowest of the low,-

Except such as believe and do righteous deeds: For they shall have a reward unfailing.
Then what can, after this, contradict thee, as to the judgment (to come)?

Is not Allah the wisest of judges?"

(Translation of Al-Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, At-Tin 1-8)

THE REBOUND OF THE CENTURY

I love my car

Ramblings

It’s not going to go away.

She knows it. However much she wills it, the cat just will not go away. It will not slink off like all the others when she ignored them for a bit. This one is a special one; she can see it in its eyes. She could have stayed on staring at it for hours, in this dreamy, mystical state between dusk and the coming of the night, when the stars lazily come into view like little children waking up in the morning, their eyes, at first lacking that sparkle, eventually come ablaze with curiosity and mischief. She could have, but she will not. Instead, she will turn around and go inside to help Ibu out with the chores.

She wished Ibu would let her keep a cat. But Ibu does not believe in keeping pets. “Times are hard enough, Ros. We’re not rich people, and your father, that useless man, won’t send home anything. I wonder what he’s up to nowadays. Sometimes I wish he wasn’t my husband, but what can we do?”

Ros pouted. Abah. An unfamiliar name pasted to an unfamiliar face. Abah, a father only in name, walked out of the family when Ros was young, so young she could barely remember his face. The only vivid recollection of him that she has is the somewhat shy smile he often had on his face. Despite what Ibu says of him, Ros knew that Ibu still loved him. That was the only reason why Ibu had never went to see the village imam to get the marriage annulled. Ibu still believed that one day he will walk up the front staircase and knock on the door again. Faint those hopes may be, but they were the only things keeping this house together; if only for that reason, Abah deserves to be loved. But that does not mean that he should be used as an excuse for not allowing her the slightest bit of luxury, like keepi....


"Ahmad... you know you shouldn't blog at work"

"ermm... it's not a blog entry Mrs S. It's my debut novel!"

"Fair enough. But I think you still shouldn't be writing a novel when you're in truth a research assistant, should you?"

"Ermm.. yeah"

Am I needy?

Shut up Nadia.

I am needy. I need to feel that I make a difference to someone. Note the keyword there. Someone. I need a pat on the back from everyone who knows me about as much as I need a thick woollen sweater on a blisteringly hot KL afternoon. What I need is someone to fall back on, the rock that keeps me sane when things go belly-up.

I think its quite firmly established that I am rather needy. However, is it such a bad thing? Is it such a bad thing to want to be appreciated? Or is it just because I am a guy, I'm supposed to be strong one, and provide the wall for you when you need it? What happens when the wall itself is feeling weak? Should you then just hold up your hands and say, "whoa! I ain't gonna hold you up, dude!"?

Why am I this way? I don't know. Maybe deep down, I'm not too happy with who I am. Deep down, I'm ungrateful, I think. True, my life never turned out the way I wanted it to, but it's great where I am now. Okay, there are certain difficulties, certain thorny bushes here and there that I've somehow managed to fall into, but I'll deal with them, like I've always done.

Or maybe I'm just feeling insecure because I've not received my paycheque. Bah!

It's FFFFFFRIDAY!!!

It's sad. I know. I now know what it means when people say TGIF. I believe.

Started off well enough. Got to work pretty early thanks to a combination of good luck (green lights all the way in Jln Sultan Ismail! Woohoo!!) and radical driving skillz (really). I then managed to muck it all up by a fiasco with the supervising analyst (SA) and Miss P over the morning daily (don't ask. It's... complicated.)Ahh... the joys of being an RA who knows absolutely bollocks about this industry.

Will be seeing Gosh tonight after his recent adventures of the engaging kind in Terengganu. Would be cool to see him in a different light. Hope I'll be able to pop by Nim's place before I head off to Melaka to do the family thang.

I work with a model

A financial model that is. One that hasn't been updated since 1999. And has macros all over the place. And was not actually created by the analyst that is currently using it.

All this means that when the shit hits the fan and you can't figure out the problem (it's probably because of the macros), you'll probably have to start from scratch if God forbid you had forgotten to save the file before you f**ked up. Sigh. And here I am, the serial f**ker-upper.

Please pardon my French. I'm tired and cranky. And it doesn't really help that it's still only Tuesday and I can't see the weekend through the mist of numbers on my 14' screen.

Typical working day

6.00 am - alarm goes off

6.01 am - hit 'off' button

6.10 am - second alarm goes off

6.11 am - hit 'off' button

6.35 am - finally wake up, realise that you're so damned late that you probably don't even have time to put on any underwear, and THEN discover that you don't have any clean boxers because you haven't done the laundry because the damned washing machine decided it was high time to make that trip to machine heaven.

6.45 am - out of the house, commando-style.

7.00 am - reach office. Discover you left your swipe card at home in your haste. A bout of unmitigated swearing ensues.

7.15 am - Finally get in the office. Traders start yelling at you because the news was supposed to be out by 7.15. Well.. that wouldn't be so bad if you actually had something prepared. But nooooo... you HAD to leave it to the last minute.

7.40 am - news gets out. Finally

.
.
.
.
....

......

Oh fuck it. It's 9 pm and I'm still in the office. This thing would take too damn long to finish. I'm going home.

I'm so sleepy

Been this way for the past couple of days. The weekend seems so short. I love my job, but it's just too damned tiring. Maybe I'll get used to it after a while.

Don't have much to write about. Haven't done any deep thinking lately, been too absorbed with continuing commitments with Mssrs DB and Copeland in the office and at home respectively.

A month and a half to go till the wedding. With this sedentary lifestyle of mine, how the hell am I going to get tanned??

Reads: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Current Theme Song: "Beverly Hills" by Weezer

Going Home

I'll be gone tomorrow. From the UK I mean. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually sad to leave this stupid country. Much like in the movies, we never realise how much we love something till we're about to lose it. I grew up a lot here, made a lot of friends, some that I'll cherish till the end of my days (wekk.. uwekkk.. man.. gotta lay off the feel-good stuff). There are loads of memories associated with this country, some good, some bad, but all of them made me the man I am now. (Seriously dude, you gotta shake this nostalgic crap).

I still remember my first day in the UK back in 2001. My world was crumbling, tumbling down to mthe murky depths of oblivion. I stepped out of Heathrow Airport, and all I could see was the gray sky of London, and then it began to rain. I reached some pretty low points in the next year or so, but slowly my life began to turn around.

And now, I'll be going home, five years down the line, hopefully much the wiser. Never thought I'd get here in one piece, but I have. I'll be starting a whole new journey too with Hanim soon, and though I am full of trepidation at the start of this new phase in my life, I'm also quite happy to take the plunge, for if I've learnt anything in my five years in the UK, it is this: as long as you can look back and smile, you've done alright.

Hopefully in twenty years you'll see me reminiscing in a coffee shop and smiling to myself. You're more than welcome to join me for a cuppa if you wish, dear reader.

Oh, and the teh tarik's on me.

"Use the Force, Luke... ". "I'd rather use a good script, Master Obi-Wan"

Watching Star Wars as I was growing up, I always thought it was a journey of discovery for one Luke Skywalker, from his humble beginnings as a farmboy with aspirations of interstellar travel, to a Jedi Master who restored the Order to its former glory. Having seen the first three parts of the series, however, one's point of view is now switched. The story is no longer about Luke primarily. It's about his father. Hence one would expect the character of Anakin/Darth Vader/all-round badass to be more developed in the first trilogy, as it was not explored as a primary character as such in the second trilogy.

Having seen the first three episodes now, I will attempt to summarise the development of the character Anakin in as few lines as possible.

Episode 1 (The Phantom Menace): "I'm gonna visit all the stars in the galaxy and save my mom from slavery!"

Episode 2 (Attack of the Clones): "I'm impatient... Grrr... I'm angry... grrr... oh no! Mommy's dead! Sob!... Hey hey, who's the hot chick?"

Episode 3 (The Revenge of the Sith): "I'm still impatient... Grrrrrrrr..... I'm still angry...... Grrrrrr... but now I'm conflicted as well.... GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR... but hey hey! I've got cool new lightsaber skills too!... And now, I'm Darth Vader, the most powerful tool of the Dark Side (but still, nonetheless, a tool. Tool. Tooooooooool. And just in case you didn't get that, TOOOOOOOOOOOOOL)

Hey.... hang on a minute. That wasn't so difficult. Oh yeah, that's because there's not much character development in the first place. Much of the so called 'character scenes' consist of Anakin looking like a guy standing in front of the Burger King cashier and considering whether he should get the curly fries or the regular fries. In short, a person with a very difficult decision on his hands (hey, it IS a difficult decision, okay?)

Sigh. Hayden Whatshisname was good especially towards the end, but some of his scenes really made me cringe with embarassment. This guy either has no capacity to express any other emotion apart from teenage angst or the script was really, really, abysmally at some points, bad. But then again, he delivered a sterling performance towards the end, so I guess it evens out to a fair rating. Also, I must admit that when the Darth Vader theme first played (the infamous "jeng jeng jeng jeng je-jeng jeng je-jeng".. I think it sounded better in my head), the geek in me cheered a bit *cough* HELL YEAH!!! *cough* *cough*.

Overall: 3.5 lightsabres out of 5.






Oh, and in other news, I've got an informal offer to work at Deutsche Bank KL. Yay!!!

Unlucky

Arsenal 0 - 0 Man Utd (Arsenal win 5-4 on penalties)

Arsenal may have won the FA Cup, but they sure have lost something, or they should if they have any shred of decency. They have lost any right to say that Man Utd can play against them and win only by kicking them off the field. Utd didn't kick them off this time; we only totally and completely outplayed the mighty Gunners, who for long periods were made to look second-rate. The stats say it all: Utd had TWENTY shots on goal, with eight on target. The mighty, mighty Arsenal? Five. And one on target. Corners? Arsenal: 1, Man Utd: 12. Fouls? Arsenal: 30, Man Utd: 23. So who's outkicking who again?

In truth, the outcome was a travesty. To have created so much only to go home empty-handed is a sickener. Nonetheless, as much as it pains me to say this, all credit to Arsenal for clinging on for dear life throughout the game, and a round of applause is necessary for their coolness under fire on the penalty spot.






Then again, I'll just throw in the obligatory shout of "Wankers!" anyway.

Changes

Well, it's finally happened. I'm officially no longer a student, well, at least since Wednesday afternoon. I've finished my final paper, and I am now free. Free from studying, free to do whatever I want.

Except that I don't really know what I want to do. I know what I NEED to do. I need to find a job. I need to settle down. I need to finally earn my keep and not "finishing the beras", as it were. I need to go home. I need to pack up my stuff. I need to do so many things.

I should be happy now. I should be ecstatic. Yet there is this curious sense of emptiness. A sense of loss. Loss of purpose perhaps. I guess we all need a purpose, for without one, the world seems a lonely, lonely place. Without putting your faith in something, without blindly trusting that this is the reason for your existence, we would be as fragile and as flimsy as a dandelion seed floating in the wind, waiting for the next updraft to carry it away to lands unknown.

Sigh.

In more uplifting news, I have an interview with Deutsche Bank on Tuesday. It'd be great if I could get the job, because Hanim'll be working in the same building (albeit in a different company). Wish me luck, folks.

Changes are afoot. Things will never be the same again. But I'll survive, as I always have, Insya-Allah. God is Great. That's all I need to know.

Worries

Hanim went through surgery today, to remove an ovarian cyst. Alhamdulillah it went fine, and hopefully there won't be any further complications. It worried me to no end though, not being able to do anything about it, not being able to be there.

Then again, it might have been for the best that I wasn't there. Else this might end up to be the case:

"Relax, Mr Ahmad. These things are fairly normal for women of child-bearing age"

"I don't care if it's fairly normal, or even if it's so normal that if it didn't occur, they'd put her on the David Letterman show next to Michael Jackson (who by the way is so freakishly alien-like that the authorities are suspecting that he is in reality a Mexican). Don't tell me to relax goddammit! That's my future you're putting under the knife, you sorry excuse for a surgeon's armpit dripping! So don't tell me to relax, dammit!"

"Relax, sir. She'll be fine"

*scuffle* *punch* *whack!*


Ahhh doctors. Where would we be without them?

Disappointment

Man Utd 1 - 3 Chelski

None of the Man Utd back four (oh, and the keeper) deserve to wear the Man Utd jersey. Ooh Rio, 100,000 pound a week? World-class defender? You're having a right laugh, aren't you, mama's boy? Wes Brown = shite. Mikael Silvestre = crap. Gary Neville = okay, but could've done better.

Well-done Chelski. Somebody needed to kick Man Utd's collective arse anyway. God knows it's been due.

Exam Fever

I love you. You're my bestest-ever friend. You're the light at the end of the dark carpal tunnel. You're the thing that gets me through the days and nights when everything collapses around me; when it seems like I can't take it any more, you give me the strength to go on. Thank you.

And just know this: when everything is settled, when my exams and the "oh so massive strain it places on my bodily system that if I keep straining any further, I might develop what can only be described as a bad case of the hernies" that it entails is over, you'll be placed in the highest position you could ever hope to be in.

At the top of the medicine cabinet-lah. Where else should I put you, oh my precious bottle of paracetamol @ panadol @ neurofen?

Quote of the day:

"Lady, people aren't chocolates. You know what they are, mostly? Bastards. Bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling. But I don't find them half as annoying as I find naïve, bubble-headed optimists who walk around vomiting sunshine."
-Dr Perry Cox, Scrubs.

THE MYTH OF JUSTICE IN LAW

Some people recently asked me why is it that I don't intend to practice as a lawyer. There's amultitude of reasons why; I don't find the work to be stimulating enough (although the study of the law remains terribly interesting to me), I want to try something new, there's not much money in it, etc. However, tonight I think I've come up with another reason: I've actually lost faith in the law, at least the Western legal system, as a mechanism for achieving justice.

Some of you may know that I'm doing American Constitutional Law as my final unit. As I was reading through cases dealing with the post-Civil War amendments to the Constitution, something struck me. The majority of the judges in the Supreme Court were more concerned with upholding their conception of the federal-state relationship in a republican system of government than they were about the protection of the recently-emancipated African-Americans. For example, the Supreme Court in the "Civil Rights Cases" pronounced as unconstitutional an Act of Congress making it an offence for anyone to discriminate on the basis of race with regards to the use of public facilities such as inns and other places of public entertainment: the judges reasoned that Congress had no power to pass such an Act because the 14th Amendment, which was argued to be the clause empowering Congress to pass such an Act, only dealt with discrimination attributable to State action, and not private discrimination. In doing so, the Supreme Court effectively endorsed discriminatory action, so long as it remained a private matter.

This kind of hair-splitting arguments can also be seen in the case of Plessy v Ferguson, where the Supreme Court held that the equal treatment clause in the 14th Amendment did not impute a positive obligation to mix the two races together: the provision of separate but equal facilities is not an infringement of the 14th Amendment equal treatment clause. This decision allowed the states to relegate African-Americans to an inferior status, consistent with their then racist outlook. Thus the Amendments designed to secure the rights of the emancipated slaves were read in as strict a manner as possible, defeating their purpose.

Some may say, "The law is not about justice. It is about certainty." In relation to the Western legal system, this is true, but only to a certain extent. The law, as I see it, is not about achieving justice, nor is it about certainty, not all the time anyway. Sometimes, it is about preserving prejudices and promoting the views of the judges, regardless of the wider implications of their decision.

Somebody once wrote, "Judges are law students who mark their own exam answers". I concur completely.

Post-scriptum: the above views do not apply to Justice Harlan, whose dissenting opinion in the Civil Rights Cases and Plessy v Ferguson I whole-heartedly endorse.

The Space Between

This is an old song, by Dave Matthews Band but somehow I've always associated Nim with it. Never thought much about it, but tonight I think this line is the one that sticks in my head:

"The space between, the tears we cry, is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more".

I miss her. Terribly. The way she becomes a mad when I don't honk at a person cutting in front of my car, the way she complains that I take too much sugar with my tea, the way she takes her time to park the car (back in the days when she wasn't such a great driver, ya know. She's a great driver now, man. Honest!). But mostly, I just miss the way she smiles whenever I come along. Sometimes I don't know whether I tell her that enough.

Ahh. I have to snap out of this nostalgic, romantic spell. Right now I'm supposed to be reading, understanding and memorising the chain of events that began from the Constitutional settlement concerning the issue of slavery in the newly-formed United States in 1787 to the eventual secession of the Southern States and the forming of the Confederacy as a direct response to Abraham Lincoln's victory in the Presidential elections as a Republican, a party formed with a specific anti-slavery platform. I'm also supposed to understand and interpret the various Supreme Court decisions dealing with the issue of slavery, such as Prigg v Pennsylvania and ultimately of course Dred Scott v Sanford (the case which arguably accelerated the advent of the Civil War), and to understand the complex relations between slavery and the federal/state relationship.

Sorry. Got carried away with my US Constitutional Law musings there. If you're expecting anything funny (which usually comes right about this time in my blog entries), sorry.. I'm fresh out. I'm too tired to put out tonight, dear readers.

Erkk..

That just didn't come out right.

SCARY SHIT

Today I did some thinking (pause for the statutory round of applause on that remarkable achievement). I am so scared of getting married. There is so much out there that I have no idea about, no control over, and regardless of how much I try to prepare for it, I'll probably still be caught with my pants down (pause for the statutory cringe due to extremely vivid imagery employed). For instance, my career is not sorted out, though steps have been taken to remedy that situation. We don't know where we're going to stay after the whole wedding brouhaha has passed over, we don't know this, we don't know that, we don't know squat.

However, I've come to the realisation that, as scared as I am, and I AM scared shitless, this is something I have to do. I've found the person I love, more than any other person in this world, and I'm not going to let the chance to spend the rest of my days making her feel the same pass me by simply on account of this yellow streak running from the tip of my head all the way to my ar*e. To lose out on this opportunity of a lifetime on account of being scared is cowardly. Sure, there may be bumps ahead, hell, we've gone through enough bumps in the road even before we're married, but Hanim, being the wonderful woman she is, has gone through all that for me, for the sake of what we could become. If I am too much of a poltroon not to want to do the same for her, then any plea for clemency on my part should fall on deaf ears. Period.

Aahh, the wonders of love, the cynics may say, "You'll find out soon enough that married life isn't just a bed of roses". I agree. I agree completely. But I'd rather spend my life trying to pull out the thorns that pieced my skin than be the person laughing from a distance at my foolishness in getting into that thorny rose bush, but never being close enough themselves to stop and enjoy the scent.

Love is like a blue pillow. Most of the time it's nice and soft, but sometimes it's liable to hurt you. Badly. Really badly. But still, you can't sleep without a pillow now, can you? Well, you can, but it'd be too uncomfortable. But then again I DO know some people who like sleeping without pillows. Maybe they're just masochists.. hmm.. But I'm sure most people like sleeping with pillows. Or do they?

As a friend once said, I am the only person she knows who could have a conversation with himself, and still lose.

Current read: Sealy, Cases and Materials on Company Law

Financial status: Loaded, but pretending to be broke, so much so that I believe it myself!

DRAMA KING

If it's possible for a guy to be a drama queen (which may or may not involve some gender transmogrification), I think I am one. The smallest things can trigger my obnoxiously fragile temperament, although perhaps some things are more likely to trigger it than others. Like comments from my other half. Yes, yes, the rational side of me knows that she means only the best, but goddammit woman! Can't you see I'm not being the paragon of rationality here?

I love her, anyway.

Relationships can be hard. Especcially when you've got an insecure bugger like me to deal with. Yes, guys can be insecure too, for all the disbelieving womenfolk. Most of us are just better at hiding it I suppose. I'm working on it though... hey, come to think of it, reading through my past few entries, it's been nothing but negativity. I'm either too sensitive, too angry, too irrational, too insecure. Screw this. I'm going to say something that probably doesn't mean anything to you readers but it doesn't matter, because this blog is simply, as eloquently put by a friend, 'verbal diarrhoea' and you'd be lucky to come out of this blog smelling like yesterday's dinner. So here goes:

YOU ARE IMPERFECT! YOU NEED TO LEARN TO ACCEPT THAT STUPID FACT, AND NOT BE SO EFFING HARD ON YOUR EFFING SELF! ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS TO MAKE THE BEST WITH WHAT YOU HAVE! AND FOR Nth TIME, BE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE, YOU PATHETIC WHINER!

Now THAT'S a pep talk. To myself of course. Not to you, dear readers. Unless you feel like taking that on board. If you do, by all means go ahead. Unless you don't want to. Then don't.

I think I need to go to my happy place now.

THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE, I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE

*deep breath*

Got a rejection from KPMG today. That in itself didn't hurt so bad. The feedback was long-winded, full of sometimes conflicting statements (e.g. I appear to avoid taking responsibility vs. I operate better alone or with a small team) but the essence of it was.. I'm crap.

I hate it when you judge me on the basis of an interview. One lousy interview and you think you can say confidently that I'm aloof, that I'm unable to work in a team environment, that I can't accept other people's ideas, that I haven't talked to those working in the field I'm aiming for, that I'm not sufficiently motivated for the job.

Who the hell do you think you are, KPMG?

*Another deep breath*

On the plus side, it seems that I'm commercially sound etc etc. Shows how much you actually know about me, you wanker.

NEW AGE SENSITIVE MAN (YUCK)

"Hi. My name is Ahmad. I'm a sensitive man."

"Hi Ahmad!" echoed the room full of recovering sensitive men. We then proceeded to talk about our experiences, what makes us tick the way we do, what we do to overcome our problems. And then we all gather around for a nice big ol' group hug, and finish with big mugs of hot chocolate each.

Obviously there's no such thing as a Sensitivics (huh??) Anonymous, but if one did exist, this would probably be what I have to say:

I was born sensitive. Being sensitive isn't such a bad thing. I can empathise with people at times, and I can understand where a person is coming from better than most others. But it also means that I get hurt easily; that may not be such a bad thing when you're a kid, because obviously your parents would never set out to harm you. But as I grew older, many things have happened that have shaped the way I thought, the way I felt. Things that made it worse at times, that basically shaped my personality as a somewhat insecure person, an easily-depressed cynic who is self-critical to a point of obsession. Some other things made me better, I suppose. Those other things taught me the ability to survive, to not care about what people say, to erect an emotional barrier impenetrable in most circumstances.

I know how hard it can be to be around a person like me. Trust me. Nowadays it's getting better. I still experience those weird moments when friends don't really know what to say, the 'awkward silence' as they put it, but it's not so often now. I wonder why it is that the silence gets really awkward. Maybe it's because of that hurt look I have plastered on my face. Maybe it's because I just lapse into my own thoughts of anguish and insecurity. Maybe because that God-awful grimace that passes off for a smile in those circumstances is just that... God-awful. In any case, for all those moments, let me just say that I'm sorry. And for sticking by me despite all that, I thank you. From the bottom of my oh-so-fragile heart.

As I said, it's getting better. I'll try my best to be less sensitive, and as someone recently said, I need to harden up. I need to act like a real man.

A real man doesn't cry.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

I need to cool off somewhere, somehow. When I'm angry everything seems a blur, and thoughts, rational ones at least, don't come easily. But when I cool down, all that is left to say is usually this:

I'm sorry.

So what's the point?

THINGS NOT TO SAY IN AN INTERVIEW

Q: Why do you want to join the assurance team?

A: You want answers?

Q: I want the truth!

A: Well you can't handle the truth!!

Cue the obligatory Jack Nicholson-ish semi-psychotic stare. Luckily for me, the interviewer was a big Tom Cruise fan himself. He smiled and we both walked out together, hand in hand, him assuring me that the firm could use A Few Good Men like myself. We then walked off into the sunset, with "Stars and Stripes Forever" playing in the background.

It was then that I woke up, grateful that it WAS a dream...







and promptly smacked myself silly. What the hell am I saying? I'd even put on one of those stupid Popeye suits if that'd get me a job...

I LOVE EVERTON

Okay, I don't love Everton, but after Rooney's goal and Richard Dunne's own goal, you can't blame me for that headline now, can you?

Back to reality, then. Next week's a busy one. Well, relatively anyway. A presentation on Wednesday, an interview on Thursday, and Puan Rooh's farewell dinner on Friday. Urgghh. I hate going to these social events. I'm not the most social person around; in fact, I'm sure those of you who know me personally would probably describe me as a rather introvert character at dinner parties. Okay, okay. I'll qualify that. I'm an introvert at those parties when Hanim is not around. When she is, I suddenly and shockingly metamorphosise into this confident-yet-amusingly-tactless sod who has an uncanny ability to contract foot-in-mouth symptoms. Happy, Min?

Slept at 5.30 last night. Had a long and sometimes thoughtful (but mostly it was just guy talk, which as you may think involves none other than sex, sex, and procreation. Errmm... yeah.. that's right. That's what we did. We talked about sex. Really.) discussion with Ali, Apai and up until 4 am, Pete. It was good fun. Found out that Ali had a couple of cheerleader friends who, for his birthday, decided to give him what can only be described as a private performance. No, you perverts, it was a special cheer they made up for him. Wow.

(Mental note: must get Hanim to buy cheerleading outfit, and to compose special cheer. Maybe I should get a pair of leotards as well.)

Oh shit. That was supposed to be a mental note, dammit!

WANTED: A HTML-LITERATE UBER-COOL SUPER GEEK FOR VOLUNTARY WORK ASSISTING THE 'WEB DESIGN'-ILY CHALLENGED

I'm feeling rather sluggish (if perchance one glances at the title and ponders the lack of ability to come up with a suitable word, this fact will become very much apparent), and not totally up for the challenge of updating this blog. However, I shall persevere.

In any case, I really need someone to help me out with the html coding. Somehow, the page looks different in IE compared to Firefox. It looks neater and much more legible in IE, but I personally don't use IE and I know some others who don't. So some help with optimising the page for both types of user would be great.

Umm.. hello? Anybody listening? Oh right. Forgot hardly anybody reads my blog. With the exception of Ms. (soon to be Mrs.) Nik Hanim of course. Now, Hanim, put that crowbar down. Really. Use this soft blue pillow instead.

Ermm.. on the other hand...*

I seriously regret taking up American Constitutional Law as my final semester elective. It's doing my head in. The amount of reading is bad enough, but my total lack of familiarity with American history is rather embarassing. I am often irritated by the tendency of American jurists and legislators to appeal to vague and woolly principles, such as those concerning liberty, as espoused by John Locke and Thomas Payne, and the republican ideology and the checks and balances system of separation of power, as argued by Plato in "The Republic". I am also irritated by the Supreme Court's tendency to sway from one political spectrum to the other, from Marshall CJ's bold statement of federal supremacy in Marbury v Madison, to Taney CJ's lame attempt to defend the institution of slavery by reference to state sovereignty arguments (this being due to his inherently racist upbringing, one might argue) in Dred Scott v Sandford, a case which accelerated the course towards the American Civil War.

Hey. I DO know something about the topic. Neat-o.


*(for anyone without the arcane knowledge of the 'blue-pillow mystery', please consult Ms. Yazmin. I'm sure she'd be happy to fill you in.)

I'M SORRY

On my way to uni today, an old man with what to my untrained eye seems to be a case of Alzheimer's disease asked me, "Does this bus go to the Angel?" Smiling, I said no. "You need to take this bus here, the number 18, and change at Euston to a no. 30, 73 or 205". I doubt he heard me, and I doubted even more that he actually understood what I was saying. I offered to take him to the Angel, as I was heading there anyway. He didn't seem to understand me, but I didn't care, I really wanted to help him. I was determined to get him to Angel safely.

Somehow though, when he got on the number 18 bus, a number of people offered to help him out. I didn't want to impose myself upon others, and anyway I had already changed my mind about getting him to Angel, as I was late for Friday prayers and had to rush. So when we neared Euston, I jumped out of the bus and grabbed a bus behind it, the number 205, a bit guiltily I suppose, for abandoning the guy, but secure in the knowledge that somebody would help him out surely.

The bus was a bit slow, so the number 18 managed to arrive at its final stop before I passed it. When I eventually did go pass it, the old dishevelled man was standing there looking lost and terrified. I don't know whether he made it to Angel safely, heck, I don't even know why he was making the journey in the first place. Who was he seeing... friends? family? I hope he got to see them, and I hope they take good care of him.

I don't know you, old man, and I doubt you'd be reading this. But I have to apologise anyway, and as you can perhaps see, my train of thout is rather messed up at the moment; a pretty good indication of the guilt I feel inside. I could've helped you out, but I didn't. I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite, for complaining that the problem with humanity is that we just don't care about each other and yet leaving you alone on the sidewalks of Euston Square without knowing what to do or where to go. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

THIS BREATHTAKING, AWE-INSPIRING, FEET-SWEATING, PANTS-SOILING, A-THRILL-A-MINUTE GEM CALLED.. ERMM.. FOOTIE

Playing with 10 men, away from home, against the mighty Gunners...

Arsenal 2 - Manchester United 4 (yes, FOUR)

"That's class" said Andy Gray, the Sky Sports commentator. Just about sums it up.

Bye-bye Arsene "sulk-meister" Wenger.

ME COUCHER POUR DORMIR

I have trouble sleeping. I can't seem to put my head down at night without things crowding around this noggin of mine. Sometimes I think I hear things, things that make my heart skip a beat each and every time. But then again, it might just be my brain playing tricks on me, just another way it deceives me into not thinking about the things that are really keeping me wide awake.

Like the fact that I am approaching 25, and I have yet to achieve anything worthwhile. It bothers me that I am still at university at this age, whilst friends and acquaintances have already had a start to their working lives. Some are married, heck, some even have kids. I know I can't change things, and I can't replace the two years of being lost in the wild. All the same, it haunts me. I am consumed by the need to constantly prove that I am not dumb. Somehow, I have trouble believing that, even when confronted with evidence to the contrary.

I am a proud man. I admit that. Pride is the thing that drives me on, I suppose. Too much pride, however, is to a certain degree my weakness. When I fail, when I lose, it haunts me, like a line from a song that irritates the heck out of you but you just can't seem to shake it off your mind (think Cheeky Girls). I've got to start learning how to let go.

What is this that I fear?
Anonymous disquietude,
Pervasive yet obscure,
All-consuming,
Never-ending,
A dull ache,
To a torrid roar.

I think I fear failure most of all.

IT'S ALIVE!

Well, it's a new layout. And a new background. Born totally out of extreme boredom and frustration.

Self-censorship is a must in this case. Perhaps it's not such a good idea to be blogging your feelings out at 2 am anyway.

But let's just go this far: There are things in life that annoy us, and most of the time we can either do something about it, or just let it go.

Those aren't the things keeping me awake.

Oh and just so you know, the layout looks best with IE. That's what the majority of you guys would be using anyway. Myself, I use Firefox, but that's neither here nor there.

Oh you can just tell that I'm depressed, can't you?

CUT AND PASTE GENERATION

Found this link on a late night search for internet horror. No.. not porn. Horror. Really.

I'm a cynic, but this story, far-fetched as it is, managed to somehow unsettle me. We already live in an age where information is sensationalised, where things are perhaps spun out of all proportions, without respect to those actually affected, just for ratings.

Case in point? The tsunami disasters. I'm not saying that the victims didn't suffer THAT much, that we're just making a big fuss over nothing. No. That's not it. They have suffered beyond my my wildest imagination, and my imagination is a bucking bronco. To have lost loved ones, no, to have WATCHED them swept away to certain death is something I pray I shall never ever have to experience.

What I'm talking about is the news coverage by CNN, BBC and Sky among others. Yes, these people are suffering, we know that, we should do something about it, give money, give energy, give your special skills as a doctor, engineer, whatever you can do. Or at the very least, pray that their sufferings are alleviated. What you DON'T do is to spin the whole thing around just so you could get better ratings, showing the same images of death and destruction every five seconds just because, let's face it, death and destruction sells. What you don't do is to have a small clip showing an on-site reporter perusing through a collection of wet blackboard chalk drying in the front yard of a Sri Lankan school, telling the sad story of destitution, and THEN, just before the clip cuts back to the studio with the newscaster looking terribly concerned about the whole thing, the bloody reporter proceeds to throw the chalk dismissively back on to the drying mound.

Do we really care? Or is it just something we produce because that's what the world wants to see?

If the answer to the latter is yes, are we then really much better off than the cut-and-paste generation in the Flash movie above? Is it better to have sub-human beings also known as tv ratings executives deciding what should be told to the masses, or to have an automated machine deciding so, based on our spending patterns and our demographics? Yes, we may end up being so narrow-minded that we can't distinguish the woods from the tree, but aren't we like that already?

"mankind is governed by pain and pleasure". Unfortunately, I tend to agree with Mr. Bentham on that.

OH HAPPY DAY

Woke up this morning, the sky was blue, the sun was out, the birds were cheerfully chirping their lives away... oh and Man Utd won 1-0 away at Liverpool. What a feeling.

WE LOVE ROONEY, EVERTON'S A FOOL,
WE LOVE UNITED, BUT WE ALL HATE LIVERPOOL!

GO ON, THE RED DEVILS!!

GO HOME, YA SAD SCOUSE WANKERS!

Oh, and a special message for Morientes:

MORIEN-WHO???

YA SHOULD'VE JOINED A BIG CLUB, YA SPANISH SOD!

Okay. That's enough hooliganism to for a year or two.

KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH ITS BEEPS

"Hey there sports fans! How's your day? Good? Excellent! Well, mine's so-so. My computer just tried to kill me with its beeps. But hey! It's all good!"

Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd see. Or type for that matter. However, my computer IS trying to kill me with its incessant "BEEP!... BEEP!... BEEP!". It started this morning when I woke up facing the dreaded blue screen of death and destruction, and now the frigging thing won't start, but it WILL beep me to death. Typical. I'm sure Bill Gates is just the devil trying to walk on Earth incognito. But I'm on to you, Billy-boy. I'm on to you. One day you'll be walking calmly down that Microsoft Way of yours and then BAM! All you'll see then through the shearing pain down your shattered pelvis is the back of my Porsche 911T cruising off into the sunset with what seems to be the broken remains of your glasses. And the prescriptions for those glasses. Hell, I might as well take your eyeballs for that matter.

Okay, enough with the casual swearing and the macabre dreams of revenge. What matters is that I managed to salvage my courseworks and dissertation stuff so I'm safe in that area. What pisses me off however, is that I think my mobo is fried, and that means I have to get a new mobo, and probably a new processor. But that means I might as well get a new PC. And that means more money. And you, dear fans, you of all people should know that there are only three things that are certain in life: death, taxes and my overwhelming lack of the moolah.

And you know what? At least I can try and cheat the first two.