Guuuud Vibrations

Tomorrow never knows

This is the first song for 2007 to make my heart palpitate so bad. Les Claypool, you just rock. And Victor Wooten. And all funk bassists in the world.

If there are purists reading this post and are probably scoffing at the redundancy between funk and bassist, think thrashy american school rock. The bass is meant for walking, not make people walk away.

Good Vibrations was madness. Not the musicians, on stage- but the crowd the Stallion and I bumped into when we mashed our way to the front. See one familiar face, and you get yourself a family. We were there early to collect the media passes, and spent the early part of the festival downing our Heineken quietly by the steps, fazed by the cacophony of colors that greeted us. Heavy rain, muddy ground, humidity + thick make up, heels, and stylized hair. Oh god, how do they do it? Already I felt stifled, wishing I had worn my berms, oversized tshirt and sandals.

There I was in an old ratty t-shirt, folded denim pants watching the fashion sycophants swell into a discordant visual all over the muddy field.

Thend. Don’t get me started on the UWC kids. Hey, I love the international flags represented on the field-the more, the diverse the merrier correct? But oh ma gawd.. I don’t speak for the whole international college population in Singapore of course, but we do have these kids with loaded parents, parents paying our local acts thousands of dollars to come perform for one of their children’s bashes in their pristine, paid-for properties spewing their mouth off with vulgarities and showing no manners whatsoever shoving and pushing others about in their frat-like group.

Crazed fan. What will the world be without fools?

Manners are manners, no matter where you go.

Brats. There’s nothing more I hate than rich spoilt brats.

Nothing much happened until Beastie Boys came along. I was pretty annoyed with 1) the repertoire and 2) the arrangement. You have good bands that got the crowd going early on in the day, Bushmen (with the reinstated Said on stage), Wicked Aura and then proceed to play spine numbing bands towards the later part of the show. Electrico was great, but they aren’t crowd pleasers. And so were the foreign imports: Cicada from the UK. The lead singer came out looking like your very worst idea of a getai* singer and the band then proceeded to play their uninspiring beats, which could very well have been synthesized and timed minus one. And then you are visually assaulted by the getai­-thing on stage prancing around with her cute blonde hair thinking she’s part of The Cardigans everytime she cocks her head to the side and does that beatific smile on stage.

*Getai singer: The female, for lack of a better term, “vocalist” you see around your neighborhood during the Chinese Hungry Ghost Festival. They are normally decked out to represent the following words: tacky, garish, loud, obnoxious etc.

I know it’s harsh. I just don’t dig eurothrash pop.

So we waited, and waited and waited. There was Jurassic Five lacing the track, locking the flow and all that jazz. It was good, but too monotonous for my liking. I can't say much because I don't and have never dig them but they had energy, and they heightened the mood for the next act.

Well that didn't work too well, because the crowd was kept waiting for half an hour. 2Phat was passed on, for reasons unknown (actually, I heard the prior bands overran their stipulated time and the license was until 1 a.m so 2Phat had to be given a miss for all that overrunning. Which pissed 400 of their fans who came from all parts of S.E Asia to see them perform. Note: They've not been performing for quite some time now and they're a noteworthy hip hop act worth seeing. Heck, I was pretty annoyed myself)

The Beastie Boys came onstage immaculate in their business suits and briefcases and launched into their old numbers from Ill communication. The rest, as the other reviews will say is a non-stop political anthem stretching generation(s). Baldie Brit was right when he expressed his disappointment with the Beastie Boys's political correct-ness. You would have thought they'd had a thing or two to say about the government here.

Daym.

Although I highly doubt many people understood the political significance behind their lyrics. Not being elitist. But the MTV generation is utterly devoid of any intellectual depth, swallowing marketing debris and other bullcrap coming their way. I was guilty of it. I listened to Beastie Boys ten years ago, thinking it was cool and nothing else came out of it until my dear brother grabbed my album, smacked my hands and asked, “do you even understand what you’re listening?”

He smirked and walked off.

Yes, despite differing mindsets which is spiraling inevitably into separate chasms, my brother taught me to question. Not surprising, considering he falls under the intelligent mat rawk category. But while both of us are ethnocentric malays, he abhors what we call the Western values, whereas I attempt to blend both belief systems in the sake of erhem self-betterment

Confucian me? Hell yes. As much as I love my bratwurst and aglio olio, I can’t do without my Nasi Ayam and Mee Soto. A very (effective) and fun belief system. For example, your dating options are unlimited and table conversations are spread out for more cultural exchange. Even if you know you’ll never end up marrying your date and have his kids on your first date, (yes, I'm a dramaqueen lah!) there’s always a good lesson stored up there, somewhere.

So I say: Open up, spread around and be merry.

:)

Oink

Introducing Cartman's pig: Fluffy

Yes, this is indeed my year. If I were to go by the horoscope brouhaha, the year of the pig and all fellow piggies worldwide will be coupled with every sort of turmoil there ever will. I wanted to kick off this blog with a big bang the Occident way, only to stumble into an emotional cesspit of sorts.

Of sorts.

Understatement of the year.

So, sod the mind riddling travesty horoscopes have in store. I mean at the end of the day, it’s all a self fulfilling prophecy if you allow yourself to gag at the bullshit fengshui masters, astrologers and priests have regurgitated over the millennia. (whilst laughing on their way to their rolling bank, may I add.)

It’s been a long time since I blogged and while I find myself giggling at made-up anecdotes on the way to work, peeing in not-so-sterile pub toilets, and policing the atrocities people wear at Raffles Place, I am at a bloody lost on what exactly to talk about on my virgin post. I’ve switched blogs countless times now, either to avoid the vindictive pro-Islamic-fans, non-friendly blog applications and hacker(s) alike. So now, I’ve gone public. Be nice, because if you know me, I really am. :)

Back to my Oinky year. But before this blog continues to pay homage to a year of drama-mamaness, let’s recapitulate the big, eventful events in my life for the past year:

• Thailand, Tioman, India

I profess. I’m not a frequent flier. I’ve hardly traveled when I was younger; my idea of the world consists of Malaysia, Malaysia and Malaysia. So I made it a point come 2006, I have to take small baby steps, while stringing my budget and see what’s the big fuss all about out there. Conclusion: I still don’t see the fuss. Maybe I’ll eventually understand what the hell these life-turning enlightening trips are all about.

• Birthday

Celebrated my birthday in 2006 for a whole week. I had three birthday cakes, two hide and seek surprise dinners, loadsa gifts and enjoyable dinner/drinking sessions. Being single has its many perks – the company of too-good-too-many-friends. :)

• Work

Wonderful colleagues. Bitchy lovable drunkards. Only downside? Boss and pay. I’ve plans for both of them, which of course I shall not discuss publicly here. Ah, sweets!

• The-Start-Up

Fingers crossed. I’m not going to discuss this any more publicly. And despite my sardonic snorts when it comes to fengshui and superstition, I honestly can’t afford to jinx this one up. All in good time.

• School

Took up a part time B.A while busting my ass at work. That’s probably because I was busy writing my paper, dozing off at my desk and doing all sorts of research when I’m supposed to be working. All in all, I’ve been chalking up decent grades. So I got to pat myself on the back, no?

• Mum

We, (the whole family) were expecting it. But when the news came, it hit me hard. You know they say how news could be so bad it seems to hit you right in the gut? I never thought that was possible, partly because I’ve always seen mum as my superhero and another, I’ve never faced the possibility of her bowing down to the illness. And I’m dead afraid of death, fully knowing it’s inevitable and it’s the only confirmation for every single soul out here.

The good old manager had to drag me in the meeting room at work upon which I immediately burst in tears, sobbing and hyperventilating. He was kind enough to offer me his cigarettes, buy me coffee and suggested I go home and take the day off tomorrow. I stayed on at work, walked around Far East Sq in a daze, talked to mum who was sobbing like a little girl over the phone, started wailing in public (Thank god that place’s practically a ghost town in the evening) in between answering phone calls from concerned friends who insisted on knowing where I was so they could be there for me.

I’m still struggling to cope with this whole debacle and I know it’ll never end. Either this thing which shall not be named takes my mum, or she’ll overtake the thing via her mortality. Which is pretty redundant, I say. We all die.

The past few months consists of doctor appointments, financial appeals, and trying to live life normally. She’s getting paler, her skin’s thinning from all that Glivac and I’m trying to keep myself as busy as possible to just not to think about it.

• Love

A girlfriend once told me that my life will consist of many many whirlwind romances before culminating into The One. It’s a jinx I swear. (yes yes, didn’t I just pledge myself as a horoscope atheist?)

Whirlwind romances are great, fun, flighty. Girlfriends have told me not to get attached because they live vicariously through me. But four years of the same old shit? Pfft. This is what I’ve deduced so far on my “love” life:

“Love” has been reduced to equate the great clash of civilizations. (That's drama-queen for you) Filial piety, Islam, East, West, Orientalism, Muslim, Muslim Muslim and possibly Islamophobia. Oh, don’t we just hate bloody binaries? I’ve dated a good number to know me being Muslim will pose a huge problem for the long term. I don’t wish to insert any theological arguments here. There were splendid moments, great chemistry – in and out of bed, but the jinx shall prevail. To more whirlwind romances and *yawn* The One.

• Friends

- The joyrides, singing at the top of our lungs in the middle of the night along our many three-letter-acronym expressways

- The giddy pubbing sessions listening to live bands and dancing ourselves silly

- The serious one-on-one catch ups over coffee *blink*

- Eye candy watching and fashion policing along Raffles Place. And ye can’t say I can’t multi-task

- The late nights banging out our presentation, ordering Macdonalds take out and moonwalking down the library shelves

- The crazy club-hopping marathon we had

- The after-work drinking sessions or staying back in the office just talking. :)

- Supper sessions. Prata, Teh O Halia, Nasi Pattaya, Milo Dinosaur, Nasi Padprik. Al Ameen, Baghdad Street, Jalan Kayu, Tampines, Changi Village, Simpang Bedok, Gardens. No, we hardly do Newton or other tourist traps posing themselves as authentic hawker centers. Although I do concede, the food at Newton rocks.

List is endless. And the events above were a shallow summary of it. It’s been a tiring day, and will be even more so when I get back from The Good Vibrations music festival. To all the babis, piggies and boars out there: this is our year and may no ideological bullshit get in our way of **great success. Heh.

** To be enunciated and pronounced Borat-style.