Danny Elfman sings! Little Things, Wanted OST

Danny Elfman scoring Wanted should have given me a clue that I’d love the film.

Which I do.

But Elfman actually sings on the soundtrack, on the track Little Things. Have a listen on this nifty YouTube vid.

I'm not afraid for my country; I'm afraid of it

I’m terrified, frankly.

I just read this.

I want so much to believe that my government, corrupt and short-sighted as it is, isn’t behind this.

I want to have that simple faith my father had when my sister told him how afraid she was for the country; of the encroaching religious zealots, of religion being used as justification for violence and cruelty.

My father told her to have faith in her country.

Well, my sister’s safe in the UK and my father has probably changed his stance now. East Malaysia no longer believes the Federal Goverment really gives a damn about it. It never did. So I watch as the people from my State slowly squeeze bribes out of the government with that unspoken message: "We saved you. We could bury you. You owe us."

A farce of a murder trial. A damning statutory declaration. The feeling our ‘melting pot’ that’s been simmering for years is just waiting to boil over.

The funny thing was, I was thinking of an alternate reality script. A treatment for a show.

The premise would be – what if the opposition had won the election?

I predicted chaos. After the triumphant celebration and the opposition leader was to be named Prime Minister, an assassination attempt. Almost successful, putting him in a coma. Before the official handover.

And the government, who was supposed to hand over power, doesn’t. Instead, a declaration of emergency. For the general good. Martial law.

Darkness. Death squads. In the name of ‘preserving the peace’ and ‘removing threats to stability’.

I just hope that’s all just going to stay in my imagination.

I'm not afraid for my country; I'm afraid of it

I’m terrified, frankly.

I just read this.

I want so much to believe that my government, corrupt and short-sighted as it is, isn’t behind this.

I want to have that simple faith my father had when my sister told him how afraid she was for the country; of the encroaching religious zealots, of religion being used as justification for violence and cruelty.

My father told her to have faith in her country.

Well, my sister’s safe in the UK and my father has probably changed his stance now. East Malaysia no longer believes the Federal Goverment really gives a damn about it. It never did. So I watch as the people from my State slowly squeeze bribes out of the government with that unspoken message: "We saved you. We could bury you. You owe us."

A farce of a murder trial. A damning statutory declaration. The feeling our ‘melting pot’ that’s been simmering for years is just waiting to boil over.

The funny thing was, I was thinking of an alternate reality script. A treatment for a show.

The premise would be – what if the opposition had won the election?

I predicted chaos. After the triumphant celebration and the opposition leader was to be named Prime Minister, an assassination attempt. Almost successful, putting him in a coma. Before the official handover.

And the government, who was supposed to hand over power, doesn’t. Instead, a declaration of emergency. For the general good. Martial law.

Darkness. Death squads. In the name of ‘preserving the peace’ and ‘removing threats to stability’.

I just hope that’s all just going to stay in my imagination.

Everything you Wanted in a summer flick

Nasty. Harder than steel, colder than a glacier, cooler than you. Angelina Jolie is in fine form in my favourite summer movie this year, WALL-E be damned. (Because by the time WALL-E plays in Malaysia, it won’t be summer anymore)

The film’s everything I thought it could be. Loud, fast, brash. But I loved it. I f-ing loved it so much every cuss word in my vocabulary wanted to come out and play.

James McAvoy is darling and pretty convincing as the downtrodden everyman, who suddenly gets the chance to play hero.Morgan Freeman, though, hardly has to do anything. His ‘wise mentor’ role is something he’s done so often, he could probably sleepwalk through the film and no one would notice.

The director,Timur Bekmambetov, was an inspired choice for a film that could have ended up a Pearl Harbour-like disaster under someone like Michael Bay. OK, Bay did manage not to screw up Transformers too much but Timur makes Wanted such a stylish tour de force that you’ll forget about the plotholes that would ordinarily sink a film like this.

A lot of people are quoting the line "What the f-k have you done lately?" Nice. I should get that tattooed somewhere on my body, to cheer me up when I’m in a self-doubting mess.

But how do you manage to acknowledge your own self-worth, capabilities and achievements while at the same time, try to be humble and not be a pompous arse?

Maybe it’s by getting back down to earth and remembering – all I have, was given. That despite my self-destructive youth and former desire to burn myself out of existence, I’ve been blessed.

Lesson learned after all my self-doubt and recrimination:

I might not deserve all that I’m given; I might not achieve all I could be but I can be grateful.

But I can work, all the days of my life, to make the most of everything I have and am.

And also remember…that other people aren’t necessarily motivated to be the best they can be. That if someone doesn’t make much of his gifts, it’s his choice, not mine. That I shouldn’t presume to judge when someone prefers not to be ambitious. That the most important thing isn’t that other people give of themselves, but that I do. All the days of my life.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Multitasking is an oxymoron. Focus is key to effectiveness. And I discover that at the grand old age of 30. All my life, I’ve had constant distractivitis. I want that clarity. That singlemindedness. One thing at a time. So a new path’s emerged and it seems all the roads have converged to bring me here. I’m scared and yet I feel better than I have in months.

Shit happens, really

Middle of night. I step out of my bedroom and slip in a pool of water. Pain. Scraped left arm and there’s a stabbing pain in my right heel. Damnit, water tank’s overflowed. I rush outside to shut off mains. Then I notice the blood as I come in. It marks a path to the door. Foot bled enough to make it look like a wet, bloody murder happened. Have to mop it up. Else housemates think I killed someone…or had my monthlies. Death by shame. 2.30am. Tired as hell. Damn I can’t put off calling plumber to weekend. Life. It rains on you when you least expect it.

Augustana: Somewhere between Switchfoot and Deathcab

My new favourite music blog is the fun SellTheLie.com where I discovered people like the Old 97’s and Augustana.

Augustana might appeal to those who like standard American pop/rock. They’re not as commercial sounding as Maroon 5 or Switchfoot, but aren’t as rough sounding as Death Cab for Cutie. They’d probably fit somewhere in the middle. Their most acclaimed album has to be the 2005 All The Stars and Boulevards. I keep getting told to go listen to Boston from there.

But my personal favourite is something from their Can’t Love, Can’t Hurt album – Where Love Went Wrong. Easy on the ears and easy to relate to – how sometimes when you’ve done all you can to the point all that’s left to do is walk away.

(lyrics from the blog Living in a world suffused with sound)

Where Love Went Wrong – Augustana

The day is done, and now we’re older
The feeling’s gone, so now you’ll show her
Where love went wrong, on your shoulder

But I tried
I tried, goodbye

You’re all alone, and you can’t take it
You’re just too tired to suffocate it
And all along we’ll just fake it

But I tried,
I tried, goodbye

You try to breathe, you try to save it
But it marks your skin, until they break it
Well could you call when
They’re taking all that you left for me

But I tried,
I tried, goodbye

A time to feed the body and soul

Nokia’s Sports Tracker is a fun, but slightly freaky thing. As you can see by the photo included, you get a pretty accurate map of the locale where you worked out.

I blurred out the names of the actual roads since I’m not that keen on letting stalkers estimate where I live. But the amount of information on the time worked out, the distance, my pace is rather awesome.

1.8km…not bad at all I suppose. My legs are slightly sore and I learned the hard way my body needs a lot of warming up before I can even consider doing even very slow jogging. Had to stop and stretch quite a bit during the first 10 minutes. Still, it was incredibly satisfying to be working out considering I hated track and field at school.

I love the feel of feet on bare grass and running just for the heck of it. But I never had the stamina for athletics in any form. And I learned, the hard way, that hefting 65kg along needs quite a bit of stamina.

Am following Grete Waitz‘s workout plan – a very gradual walking to running regimen. Three times a week of exercise, with very gradual working up to increased workout times. Waitz is a legend in Norway – she broke the world marathon record nine times during her career and has a yearly women’s race named after her. The first year of the race, she coaxed her 65-year old mother into running it with her and together, they finished it.

I fully recommend her book, On the Run: Exercise and Fitness for Busy People. It’s filled with practical, no-nonsense advice that is so much unlike other books I’ve read. She doesn’t advocate pushing too hard or straining yourself beyond your capabilities. And I got the book for RM8 at the PayLess Books sale.

My diet/exercise regimen started from the 22nd of June and will end on the 14th of July. It doesn’t mean I’m going to stop eating healthy and not exercise when it ends. But right here, right now, I’m committing to minimising my fat and sugar intake while exercising for 30 min a day, 3 times a week for those dates.

Then I’m taking a bit of a sabbatical to get in touch with my inner writer and wrap up loose ends in my personal life.

Professionally, I must admit my gift lies in prose. I write horrible academic papers, am not talented at writing news copy and though I love allusions, metaphors and similes, I might do well to find a way to apply my love to imagery outside of work.

So I just need to step away for awhile and decide on a proper direction. No, I’m not leaving The Mag anytime soon. It’s more a self-inventory check to make sure I haven’t veered too much off course from where I should be going. Here’s to seeking the path!

I Repent – a gentle chastisement

Some songs, you can’t quite listen to because they hurt too much. They remind you of what you don’t want to remember or admonish you for what you willingly forget.

I guess Derek Webb’s I Repent is that way.

It remind me of the ethos, the creed I live by. It also reminds me how far I fall from it. How every day I wage, and lose, the battle against my ego and my reluctance to embrace humility.

And I forget too often, in my love of material comforts, the good fight for those who have no food to eat and peace is a dream too far distant.

I Repent

(words and music by Derek Webb)

i repent, i repent of my pursuit of america’s dream
i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything
of my house, my fence, my kids, my wife
in our suburb where we’re safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent

i repent, i repent of parading my liberty
i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free
and for the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent

bridge
i repent judging by a law that even i can’t keep
of wearing righteousness like a disguise
to see through the planks in my own eyes

i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
by caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need
by domesticating you until you look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent

Day the Second in Hong Kong

Here is where I correct the name of the hotel. I didn’t realise it, since we arrived when it was all rainy and all I could think about was dumping my things, but we were staying at BP  International House.
BP as in Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the Scouts; his wife founded the Girl Guides. And who just happens to share my birthday.

Yes, I was a Girl Guide. My knots still suck but, hey, I’m a half-decent cook and seamstress. :p

BP House is somewhere I’d recommend. It’s really very good for a 3-star hotel, with excellent views from the hotel window and a very satisfying hotel breakfast. The staff are friendly, the rooms, though spartan are pretty adequate and clean. No bedbugs.

It was a little sad to be checking out, especially as BP was much better than we’d imagined.

Unfortunately, it left us with a sinking feeling that our next hotel would be far, far worse.
It was.

Guangdong Hotel is, quite frankly, unimpressive but for its location. It’s just a minute’s walk to the MRT and is pretty much smackdab in the city centre, with easy access to Nathan Road. The staff was indifferent, you weren’t lucky enough to get a hotel breakfast here, and the rooms? Well, they were a bit bigger than BP and ours had a bathtub. A view? Forget it. Not unless you fancy looking at tall, musty-looking buildings.
After we’d dumped our stuff and unpacked, we headed off to where our feet would take us.
That meant shopping and using our new Octopus 3-day passes!



We came to a few realisations about shopping in Hong Kong:

1. Hong Kong women have small feet. It’s hard to find anything larger than size 39.

2. Hong Kong sizes are one size smaller than ours. So if you wear L, you’ll have to look for XL.

3. XL-sizes are near impossible to find

I swear, Hong Kong, when it comes to clothes is made for the skinny, petite or possibly bulimic.
But Suan did find a Bossini where the t-shirt sizes were kinder to us and I did manage to find pants. In XL.

I seriously considered not eating for like, forever?

Still, Hong Kong can be a fun place to walk and explore. Also a heaven for shopping…if you can fit into Hong Kong sizes.

(Me, a little weary after traipsing Hong Kong. I did score a nice messenger bag at Esprit for half off. )

I found Hong Kong to be pretty pedestrian friendly, and though my feet ached after hours spent on my feet, I liked how much more convenient walking is in HK compared to KL.

Alcohol, for you liquor lovers, well…it costs the same in Malaysia. More expensive in some places, even. So this is definitely not a place for you to go boozing. Still, there are plenty of coffee shops – try the local Pacific Coffee franchise. Of course, Suan being Suan, we opted for Starbucks instead.

Day the second also saw me really missing the Internet. Free Wi-Fi isn’t something easy to find in Hong Kong unless, of course, some poor sod’s left his router wide open for people like yours truly to leech off.

Stay tuned for Day Three and impromptu lion dance shenannigans.