Friday, July 29, 2005
Rafer and Sasson sitting in a tree...
Sleek, sexy treehouses for the future: personal retreats from mortgage loans, underperforming stock options and lesser, earthbound peons. Only from Baumraum.

posted by Hong at 4:02 pm | Permalink | 1 comments
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Miri Piri
For Harvinder

He can dance. It is not a dance inspired by the rhythms of musical convention but by the rise and fall of his breath, fed by faith and tempered by diligence. He is a brown whirling dervish, an alchemist of both matter and possibilities; all movements begin and end with a sure step, improvisations within an ancient frame. He wields the feared weapons of his people as surely as he holds to his belief in the eternal circle of Akal Purukh. And surely God must hold him likewise.

posted by Hong at 3:15 pm | Permalink | 0 comments
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Socrates, Greek philosopher (469-399 BCE), speaking in his own defence when on trial for corrupting Athenian youth:

For it is my one business to go about to persuade young and old alike not to make their bodies and their riches their first and their engrossing care, but rather to give it to the perfecting of their soul. Virtue springs not from possessions, but from virtue springs possessions and all other human blessings, whether for the individual or for society.

posted by Hong at 12:28 am | Permalink | 0 comments
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Capital bum of brown-ness
There is a bus stand between the LRT station and my workplace which I pass every morning and every evening on my way to and from work, one that is inhabited by a homeless man in a grey shirt and dark grey trousers. Today, he was sitting on the kerb and staring at nothing in particular; sometimes he sits on the bus stand bench, sometimes he just stands and smiles at passers-by, who avoid him like the plague. Some resort to performing sidesteps as they approach him while others decide to take another route altogether to avoid him.

But his smile is not a friendly one. It is empty and meant to embarrass, used to confront and extract validation of his existence from those who would otherwise ignore him completely; it is for this reason, I think, that he defecates at the bus stand and smears his faeces around. People have no choice but to keep their eyes squarely on the ground around the bus stand in order to navigate safely through criss-crossing brown streaks, the only signs of his existence they acknowledge.

I smile back at him one day, and immediately his hand comes up in a gesture demanding a handout; it feels as though he is demanding recompense for his unfortunate situation. I gesture that I do not have anything to give him, or perhaps that I do not want to.

I see him wandering around the outdoor bistros at KLCC harrassing waiters for cigarettes and drinks. He is the most well-fed tramp I have ever met.

posted by Hong at 12:18 am | Permalink | 0 comments
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Expedient damage
Sanshou throwing is the way forward. Everyone should prepare to be dropped onto their heads.

posted by Hong at 3:26 pm | Permalink | 0 comments