I'm Tired

What happens when people get tired of fighting for something better; of fighting for principles, for rights, for chivalry? What happens when a society languishes and lets people take advantage of its apathy by feeding off its loopholes? Because that's what I'm dangerously close to.

I know what I sound like: a diva, one of those people who complain about everyone and expect people to jump when I complain. I'm fine with people thinking of me that way, because to me, I'm trying to create a world that I want to live in and be in.

Is it right for telcos to provide sub-par service? No. Is it right for office buildings to provide insufficient parking lots and close it all day to non-season parkers? No. Is it right for our Ministry of Tourism and whoever is in charge of our environment to sit quietly while our coral gardens are being irrepairably damaged? No.

But goddammit, I'm tired of being one of the few who are willing to do anything. Everyone else sits there and complains but is too lazy or can't be bothered to do anything. I want to make my little corner of the world a little bit better, but it's not easy doing it alone.

It's even worse when there's resistance and people look at you like you're crazy because you're asking for a safer parking location, or for pamphlets educating visitors and locals on how to care for corals, or for a telco that won't have dropped calls for every 2 out of 3 calls made. It's the worst when people won't even try to help you. They won't even try.

I'm tired. That's the gist of it. I'm tired. I want to be a better person in a better place, but I'm too goddamn tired.

Phoenix Jones & The Rain City Superhero Movement

So the last 1-year or so of my blog basically entails me whinging about not being loved, how the world hates me, being hurt, etc, and so on, and so forth. Not that there hasn't been damn good reason for it, but I think it's about time I stop feeling bloody sorry for myself and bring back this blog to what I do best: whinging about less personal stuff.

Don't get me wrong, there've been plenty of things that I've wanted to write about over the past year, but due to time constraints and sometimes just me being lazy and unmotivated, it's gone unnoticed.

Never fear, I have a doozy to start with: Superheroes. No. Seriously. Introducing Phoenix Jones and the Rain City Superhero Movement (not to be confused with the dance crew).

Phoenix Jones is a civilian who dresses up as a superhero at night to patrol the streets and keep the citizens of Seattle safe. His costume has a bulletproof vest, knife plates, etc.. They carry non-lethal weapons, and are all trained in combat or mixed martial arts (which, as someone who has trained in kickboxing for several years, I can tell you is no joke).

The Rain City Superhero Movement is apparently 9 people including Phoenix Jones. The other members are Thorn, Buster Doe, Green Reaper, Gemini, No Name, Catastrophe, Thunder 88 and Penelope. There's less information around on these 8 guys, but then again, I'm not a Facebook user and can't fully access their Facebook page. I am, however, heartened by the inclusion of at least 1 female persona (I think).

If you thought they were the only people in the world crazy enough to do something, you'd be wrong. Well, you'd probably be right if you said Americans (to my knowledge). There's a website for a community of Real Life SuperHeroes (www.reallifesuperheroes.org), detailing the exploits of other masked/unmasked caped/uncaped crusaders who choose to fight crime/injustice/homelessness/etc. There's even tips on what to/what not to do.

For further reading, Suite 101 has an interesting and informative article here. And then there's always Phoenix Jones and the Rain City Superhero Movement's Facebook page. And yes, the Seattle police are well aware of their existence, and can tell who is or isn't in the group (really).

Men Have No Balls

Yes, I know it's a generalisation. Yes, I know women have their own faults. I'm not talking about women, and I'm talking about men in general. I say, men have no balls.

Let's talk this through. Men go out, check out girls and when they spot a hot one they whoop/holler/make smoochey sounds/catcalls depending on where you are. What would happen if the girl actually went up the men and spoke to them? Think they'd bite? I doubt. And if they had the chance, would they actually work up the courage to talk to the girl? Sincere and pervasive doubt.

I say men have no ball because most men who take on more than 1 wife in Malaysia (it's legal, for those not in the know) keep them hidden from their first wives and their families. The fact that they hide them tells me that they think that what they're doing is wrong, immoral and unethical. The shit thing is, when they die, their families are left to deal with the tangled webs that they've woven. Suddenly finding out that there's another family at a time of loss isn't the best way to go about it. Also suddenly finding out that you have to share his assets isn't a great thing either. What's worse is finding out there isn't enough left for the wives to live on. You know what a man with balls would do? If you're capable of starting another family, have the balls to tell your current one. Face up to it.

I say men have no balls because unlike television and movies, men don't really know what love means. On screen, love means "I'll do anything for you. I'll fight for you and bleed for you and die just to be with you." In real life, it means, "I'm sorry, this is just getting terribly inconvenient. I'm facing pressure from some other parties, so I'm just gonna have to go ahead and let you go. All the best."

I say men have no balls because men would rather sit and wait for someone else to solve a problem than work it out, or if they tend to have 1 ball, then take the easiest way out. Unless of course, someone else tells "makes" them do something in which case they have someone to blame it on.

I say men have no balls because everyday I see men not stepping up to the challenge and just coasting their way through life. And in the sidelines, you see people getting hurt, people floundering and people just generally needing help.

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Notes:

1. Of course when I said "men" I didn't mean you. I meant other men! Sure!
2. As with all generalisations, there are exceptions to the rule. Of course you're the exception! Sure!
3. This is my blog, and I'll write what I want.
4. Flame on.

All The Wrong Choices

I've just realised that I have this uncanny ability to make the wrong choices. Sure, most think that I have a great life and not much to complain about, which is essentially true - me complaining would be like ridiculous. I'm way too careful about the big decisions like career and stuff to make a mistake.

It's the other things that you think don't matter that get past you. Sure there's stuff like always choosing the wrong lane in traffic jams. And then there are the things like men and love, which TV and movies made me believe would "just happen" because "if it were meant to be, it's meant to be". That true love would never hurt and love means happily ever after. Bullshit.

In this case, my choices are always like getting caught in traffic. Whenever I switch lanes to one that I think will get me there faster, it stops moving. Whenever I stay my lane, people cut me off. I just want to stop and get off the road until there's no more traffic. And if it feels like home, then that's home.

Written on my Archos 5

Road Rage

What happened this morning?
Well, you see... this red Honda Civic decided that it didn't matter that I was right next to him on the road. He decided it would be a good idea to try and occupy my space anyway.

Was that ridiculously stupid?
Yes, yes it was.

Did I honk at home?
Like you would not believe. Plus the look for extra points. I think I scared his passenger. As she should be.

Did he give a shit?
No, he just went on trying to change lanes. I don't understand why he didn't just go and do it. His first method worked so well.

Why was he changing so many lanes?
Because the fucker was on the faster moving leftmost lane to cut other people and only decided at the absolute last minute to change lanes so he wouldn't go up to Jln Semantan. As you do.

Did he deserve a baseball bat to the windshield?
Yes.

Did I do it?
No, but I should start carrying a baseball bat around.

To whom it may concern

I'm seriously considering printing out a few copies and carrying it around. Maybe change the "To whom it may concern" bit to "To the driver of _____________"