Is Christmas too Commercialised?

Mega sales aside, I think many are cashing in on Christmas and whilst it's true that we're celebrating Christmas in the spirit of giving, I still think that Christmas is promoted and celebrated so widely sans it's true meaning.

So, keeping it short, to those ushering Nick and counting down to the dot, be good and stay off the wheels if you're on the booze. Christmas isn't about dying. No artificial snow and climbing on passing vehicles along the Gurney Drive promenade. The central figure behind Christmas had hay for warmth and animals for company.

"Waste not, want not," says Uncle Victor.

Have an enjoyable time, be blessed, and Jesus loves you.

Russkiy Paren

The following is the translation to the song Russkiy Paren based on Westmeier's Alone in Four Walls. Although the song is titled Russkiy Paren (Русский парень) or Russian Guy, I'd go with "lad" as per the wordings from the film itself. [Download link below]

Hello my sunshine,
I'm writing to you from the battlefield.
The crows are circling overhead,
only I'm in no hurry to die.

We'll still go out together,
we'll dance under the night sky.
When I've done my service I'll come home,
and you'll tell your friends:

[Chorus]
"A Russian lad doesn't run away from bullets.
A Russian lad doesn't groan in pain.
A Russian lad doesn't burn in fire.
A Russian lad doesn't drown in water."

Our family will be gathered once again,
maybe not so soon.
We will play the guitar and sing of love,
embrace and not hide our tears.

The rocket has flown up in the sky again,
and I'm far from home.
I want you to wait for me,
I'm coming back to you, believe me.

Lyrics: Sergei Sashin, Music: Kim Breitburg

Edit 2011:  Figured I should put the song up for any interested person to get it. Link to Google Docs.
    

Sadism Intrigues

Once a while, I'd turn to the TV to see what the pandemonium's all about. And? A damsel was bitch-slapped by an evil lady. The audience on the couch went, "Ouch, that hurts. Evil." And they stayed for more. The Little Nyonya seems to be a little bit unreal owing to the constant bullying. Yes, people that time don't fight back but I think the screenwriter enjoy stretching it too.

Think again, such cruelty and bullying does keep people glued to them. What's on my screen? Tabs on Firefox with the words lynching, Litwack and more. I'm quoting and reading from Wikipedia (and not some personal sites having the tendency to be biased - whether by exaggeration or whitewashing). And crucify me for using Wikipedia. It's my preliminary source of information before an in-depth analyses of things.

Humans are capable of violence and unspeakable cruelty. History didn't prove otherwise. Besides lynching, I'm sure many have read other instances of atrocities and torture methods devised by our warped [and desperately wicked] mind [or heart]. For now, we'd keep to the history of lynchings or extrajudicial punishments if you like.

The postcard on the left shows the lynching of Jesse Washington in Texas; specifically mutilation and burning. That poor guy was treated like an animal.

The following is found in the wiki article:

The black bastard was beaten and dragged to the suspension bridge spanning the Brazos River. Thousands roared, "Burn him!" Bonfire preparations were already under way in the public square, where Washington was beaten with shovels and bricks. Fifteen thousand men, women, and children packed the square. They climbed up poles and onto the tops of cars, hung from windows, and sat on each other's shoulders. Children were lifted by their parents into the air. Washington was castrated, and his ears were cut off. A tree supported the iron chain that lifted him above the fire of boxes and sticks. Wailing, the boy attempted to climb the skillet-hot chain. For this the men cut off his fingers. The executioners repeatedly lowered the boy into the flames and hoisted him out again. With each repetition, a mighty shout was raised.

For the participants and the guilty ones, I have nothing to say except that God forgives them. But often, such things continue due to the fact that no one actually did anything. Some claimed no knowledge of any incident when forced to witness the atrocity (like the one in Dachau concentration camp during WWII). Others would stand by and enjoy the process, approving, and even allowing their kids to see it. Good parenting eh?

The photographs stretch our credulity, even numb our minds and senses to the full extent of the horror, but they must be examined if we are to understand how normal men and women could live with, participate in, and defend such atrocities, even reinterpret them so they would not see themselves or be perceived as less than civilized. The men and women who tortured, dismembered, and murdered in this fashion understood perfectly well what they were doing and thought of themselves as perfectly normal human beings. Few had any ethical qualms about their actions. This was not the outburst of crazed men or uncontrolled barbarians but the triumph of a belief system that defined one people as less human than another. For the men and women who comprised these mobs, as for those who remained silent and indifferent or who provided scholarly or scientific explanations, this was the highest idealism in the service of their race. One has only to view the self-satisfied expressions on their faces as they posed beneath black people hanging from a rope or next to the charred remains of a Negro who had been burned to death. What is most disturbing about these scenes is the discovery that the perpetrators of the crimes were ordinary people, not so different from ourselves - merchants, farmers, laborers, machine operators, teachers, doctors, lawyers, policemen, students; they were family men and women, good churchgoing folk who came to believe that keeping black people in their place was nothing less than pest control, a way of combating an epidemic or virus that if not checked would be detrimental to the health and security of the community.

- Leon F. Litwack, American historian and Pulitzer Prize winner

Surely, such atrocity exists today in other parts of the world or it has taken a new form and name. Perhaps the words racism, supremacy, superiority, and the like ring a bell?

Man is doomed. Surely. His days are numbered. And history condemns us all.

I No Understand

by James Chin
article from Malaysia Insider


We Malaysians are really on par with the developed countries.

We produce thousands of university graduates every year and our academics keep winning “gold medals” in competitions in trade fairs where the entrance fees, more or less, guarantee you a bronze prize.

When this issue was raised in parliament four years ago the then Higher Education minister said he was no longer allow these sort of things to happen again. Well guess what — this year alone the newspapers reported at least six public universities taking part in these sorts of shenanigans again. Ahhhhh, our collective memory is short....

I see that the newspapers are printing warnings about the second wave of H1N1 about to hit Malaysia.

But guess what, the same ministry warning us, is organising a lot of events for the Health Minister where all sorts of people get together, all less than one metre from each other.

Thousands of rallies and events are planned for 1 Malaysia stunts.

See what I mean — you tell people to be careful and try to avoid crowds but you organise as many events as possible to infect as many people as possible...

Improve public transport so that more people will use the buses and trains.

Really?

You have two national car companies- do you really want them to suffer? After all, they are making it as cheap as possible to own a car. Can you really promote public transport and allow the national car to suffer?

What about the mantra on “Knowledge Society”?

Yet there are so many laws restricting what you can and cannot say, publish, write, broadcast, etc. You threaten bloggers and try to shut down internet sites. It really must be “Knowledge-I-approve-Society”. Ahhhhhh, the mother of all logic.... 1 Malaysia.

Yes we are building a happy harmonious society, to borrow a term from communist China, called Malaysia.

Yet everyday, we are reminded of our ethnicity and religion. On our Mykad your race and religion are recorded on the chip, and for 60 per cent of the population your religion is printed just under your photo.

When you fill in any form, you are asked to reconfirm your race and religion. When you join a political party, they are mobilised along ethnic lines. When you read newspapers, they are full of racist columns and worse, some newspapers actually promote racial supremacy.

When you join the public service or are given a JPA scholarship, you must attend Biro Tatanegara (BTN)* which reinforced your racist indoctrination you received in government schools. You watch RTM 1 and RTM2 and you think “what can I do to defend to my race and religion today?”

Then you have politicians who constantly harped on the issue of “representing my race and religion”.

And don’t forget the “cow head” incident — and the coincidence of temples and churches only found in factory areas and industrial parks. Any politician who tries to promote a race-blind polity is actually called a racist!

You have BTN which promotes racism and at the same time you have a department of national unity.... get the logic? One cancels the other, therefore no change!

Maybe the problem is with me.

I really don’t understand the logic of living in Malaysia. The way to live in Malaysia is to accept that to live happily, you have to a hypocrite, a racist and a religious bigot. After all, since the entire system is based on hypocrisy, race and religion, you are living in paradise if you are a racist and bigot.

Has anyone told the Klu Klax Klan (sic) (KKK) about the Malaysia, My Second Home Programme?

-December 19, 2009

*National Civics Bureau

More on BTN:

Put an End to Biro Tata Negara

BTN Promotes Racial Unity?

Alone in Four Walls - Alexandra Westmeier

I made myself comfortable in bed, propped up against the headboard by two pillows, surrounded by walls where the pictures hang. The wall light is right across from where I'm sitting. To the left is a small window and a curtain. It was warm and secure.

The documentary began and it was some time before we see adults coming into the frames. I met Lyosha who just got to there, the juvenile detention centre, chronicling his new life there. He was sobbing in between the interview and said, "I just want to go home, that's all".

There's Tolya who got sent in there for murder; who spoke on his life and his wishes when he got out. Like him, many others echoed that they wish to lead a good life when they get out. The scene then changed to a scene quite similar to the ones I see on TV except that the weather is cold and windy Russian climate with rolling hills in the distance.

Parents of these boys have mixed feelings about them but they look sad and I think they really wanted them back. When I say parents, it means father and mother but in the interview, it's either the father or the mother that was interviewed. Not the ones we see often in other films/documentaries where mom and dad sat on a couch next to a table with, maybe, flowers and a beautiful wallpapered wall behind. No, the parents aren't dressed in suits and mom doesn't put on make ups nor braid their hair. She just simply tie up their hair and don something to protect against the elements.

The boys are a precocious lot. They speak in a way reflecting adults and if I didn't look at the subtitles (the language's Russian) the words they use reflect their maturity. Perhaps life brought out that thinking? I can't answer that.

I also meet Vitya, an adorable guy with puffy cheeks you'd want to pinch. According to him, the medicine he got from a mental institution gave him that puffy cheeks. Like others, I could see the little boy in him. His, when he was at the dentist's chair and when she was about to extract a tooth, he turned away and cried; reminiscence of myself. A difference is I know mom is either by my side or outside the room. The dentist (assuming that she is although she look more like a nurse from the Health Ministry, Malaysia) then played the role of mom, talking to him and then extracting the tooth and then soothing the poor boy - chin on his head and her wrist on his face.

Poignant.

Who's to blame? The system? Parents? The boys? I don't know. Everyone maybe? But I think most of the responsibility rests on the parents. It's true you have to work your posterior off but take some time off and read to your child, not in some place where you drink away and then staggering home to beat up your wife and child.

The best part of the film? When I see smiles on their face. Every once in a while, I'd see that smile; embarrassed, happy, retrospective and some hopeful. Towards the end, the boys sang Russian Lad and I'm sure they know what the wordings meant (I'll look up the English translation shortly). Not as nice as Alexei Goman but original. At the end, I see each of them smile again as the camera go from left to right. To those watching this part, would they have known these are the faces of juvenile detainees sent there for various crimes?

Everyone sees in them only criminals, and forgets that they are children. Children who never had a childhood.

Some of the inmates we meet are serving time for theft, some for murder - but filmmaker Alexandra Westmeier lets us spend enough time with them to see beyond their hard man exteriors to the scared boys within. She also provides glimpses of their home lives, and we begin to realise that, for these children, prison is often an easier place to be.
For the first time in their young lives, they no longer have to fight for their daily existence;
they can simply be what they are--children.

-Youtube video (above) info

The sun sets and I see the following:

91% of these children will end up behind bars.
This time in a prison for adults.

I Helped Built and Maintain the KL Tower

"Two tickets please," I started.
"Her you go, two tickets for the observation deck," came the reply after a while.
"How much is it?"
"76 ringgit".

I looked at her for a while before conceding to the towering (looking for puns, lame) price and hand over two notes of fifties. What 38 got for a person? A bottle of tower-shaped drinking water, a coupon to a pony ride (poor pony!), another coupon to the animal park (read reptile park) consisting mostly of reptiles and arachnids, and the F1 simulator (actually an F1 cockpit shaped from - I suspect - fibreglass with a racing wheel and a TV mounted upfront. Simulator?


The trip up was quick and really, it was nothing to shout about except for the interior of the elevator. I guess I'm used to getting up to KOMTAR back in Penang.

It's nice up there though. I circled the observation deck five times since the price I paid still hurts me. Snapped some pictures and dragged myself from the window and into the elevator for another 15 seconds trip down. Going down is always fun.

Got out and approached the booth with lots of pictures and saw mine on the board as well. Pictures of visitors are taken against a [rather beautiful] backdrop and more coupons are handed out.

"Come, have your pictures taken," the usher exclaimed with a wide grin.
"This way please," the photographer beckoned. I'm transfixed to the guys camera. "Come back later for your photos." That's the last I saw of him.

"How much?" seems to be the two words I ask more than any other day.
"Forty." They seem to have different people working together to squeeze money out from visitors (tourist included) but always with a wide, happy smile.

I smiled back and walked away. Next I headed to the F1 simulator.

"We're closed from 3 to 4 pm," and I wasn't prepared for the next line. "We're closed for refreshment." I think I heard right. Refreshment? That was the end of my trip to KL Tower. I paid so much for some unwanted services and a so-called simulator that was never meant to be.

Before heading back to Penang on a limited visibility highway due to the heavy rain, good thing I stopped by the Titiwangsa Lake Gardens (since I don't know how to get to the other one somewhere). It's nice there though a little bit deserted.

Nice eh?

Now it's back to the abattoir called university. Only here do that word applies. I've got my grant and it's time to make that bear fruit.

KL: Christmassy Sights, Sounds, and Scents

Am in KL for the MTSF research grant presentation and as always, a road trip is very much welcomed. If malls back home in Penang are all spruced up for the 25th, here in KL, it's much more elaborate and way more pines – wreaths or garlands. Not to mention giant trees everywhere. Even our former PM's (Tun Mahathir) bakery has blue lights on the vegetation surrounding the establishment at Pavillion KL.

Pavillion KL at the Bukit Bintang area; the fountain in front of the building is really beautiful

I was having a good time with the used-by-novice Kodak digital, shooting amongst the guys carrying 200 mm lens fitted to their squarish, bulky, expensive DSLRs. Man, they have gorgeous models with them too.

Experimenting with what I have, satisfied though limited

I'm surprised how far my legs carried me yesterday and today, effectively fulfilling my exercise quota for the remainder of the year. Tomorrow's D-day and I'm quite excited about the whole affair, more so the luncheon. Thereafter to KLCC and the environs, meaning another trigger-happy field day.

The Petronas Twin Towers, snapped from some housing area nearby during my aimless patrol around the city. Stunning.
   

A Quote from Sir Ralph Turner

Another Saturday afternoon and I was reading some war histories - specifically the Vietnam War - and seeing how one event (Gulf of Tonkin Incident and Resolution) could lead to war and a terrible aftermath (Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, Pathet Lao, and the Third Indochina War to name a few) when it ended in 1975.

Really, depending on how and where we read something, we'd always end with different conclusions and I've always maintained an open mind when it comes to that. I've always liked history (no, not the textbook history involving dates and nothing else) for that; it saves something for posterity, to mull over, to learn, and to decide who's who (if he or she ever wants to take sides).

War is definitely and ugly thing. It's funny how total war is outlawed in the Geneva Convention but then the act of taking lives in war seem to be legal. Figures! Man and his nature.

Crawling the web I inadvertently came upon blogs chronicling life during the Emergency and the bravery and honor of soldiers fighting for their country slash beliefs. I leave with the words of Sir Ralph Turner on the memorial of the Gurkhas:

As I write these last words, my thoughts return to you who were my comrades, the stubborn and indomitable peasants of Nepal. Once more I hear the laughter with which you greeted every hardship. Once more I see you in your bivouacs or about your fires, on forced march or in the trenches, now shivering with wet and cold, now scorched by a pitiless and burning sun. Uncomplaining you endure hunger and thirst and wounds; and at the last your unwavering lines disappear into the smoke and wrath of battle. Bravest of the brave, most generous of the generous, never had country more faithful friends than you.

-Sir Ralph Lilley Turner, MC (1888 - 1983)

Hackneyed

Sometimes I think that one should stick to routine so that things become more manageable and at other times, I support the act of doing something outrageous. Something out of the norm. And I can't tell for sure which is better and perhaps it's good to have balance between the two [with some bias towards...]

Soon, 2010 will be upon us (we've yet to build ourselves an Ark!!!) and I have come to think that what I do here seemed boring. Not that I don't enjoy writing but everything seems ordinary. Cliches abound. Overused phrases. Hackneyed theme. Expected. Too predictable.

Jaded, depressed and disillusioned?

But it's rewarding nonetheless.

Click here: I'm not saying that the same happened to President Obama though. And I enjoy his speeches more than local politicians with that smirk and derisive tone.