S***, I've been quoted.

By KeadilanRaykat.org, nonetheless.

Let me first state that the reason why I said yes to answering Shin's questionnaire for this article is because I'm an attention-seeking whore. Let that be known.

And on to the two points elaborated by the article, before I go on about other things I did say to Shin. Since he did say he was getting a bunch of people to answer him, and he's writing for a political party's website, I don't blame him for not representing my view completely. To give him credit, though, he represented my view fairly accurately.

1. Yes, I did think the whole Jeff Ooi saga was a mess. I'd even call it a fucking fiasco. Yes, the government did stretch its credibility on this one. So did other bloggers, though, for jumping into the bandwagon and mindlessly calling Jalan Riong every name they could think of.
2. I do try to moderate the comments here— as well as I possibly can. Personal insults to me, I generally keep, especially if I think the insult is not worth my attention. Personal insults to people I know and like, or generally racist and inflammatory shit, I delete. I can't ban you, but I'll tell you to STFU if you don't fucking behave.

Now, for the points not covered by Shin et al.

Of who and why they did this to Jeff, I don't know or care. I will, however, comment on the result: big fuckup, dudes. Not that I don't expect anything better from you, but still, you fucked up. Congratulations.

We've apparently mastered the technology and infrastructure behind the whole Internet thing, but that's easy — it's a matter of memorization and familliarity, and even idiots can do it if they put their minds to it. I mean, take a look at some of the bloggers who are online and you'll see what I mean.

Yeah. Buncha poindexters.

I also told Shin that I hate feedback in general. There's a reason why I don't allow anonymous comments, and this is it. Given the chance, I wouldn't allow comments in a blog until I see the email address of the commenter, send a message to him to check that the email account is real, and by then still hold the right to muzzle the little shit if he pisses me off. All Blogger allows me to do is screen out non-Blogger account owners. I can live with that. For now.

I also described the newspaper industry as a ‘creaky, corrupt edifice’. But I also called bloggers ‘wanky, elitist prod-noses and memetic vigilantes’. There are reasons for this; some of it is because some of you are. Or all of you are, sometimes.

Because of this, I suggested that bloggers and newspapermen learn to work together, because more often than not the both of you will find that it is better to pool your resources and work on each other's strengths rather than pontificate about how the Other Guy is Evil or Stupid or Misguided. Stop it.

Just shut up and learn to cooperate with one another, why don't you?

T-Shirts for Couples

Malaysians can be so insensitive sometimes.

It's bad enough that Hani gets stared at by Malay men (who have not learned the art of sneaking a look), but people like the Scarfer and Jordan have to go through the sort of derisive howling that Our Enlightened Countrymen seem to love to subject on apparently ‘morally deficient’ people.

Jordan put up a pretty interesting idea, actually. Get t-shirts to remind other people that the both of you are legally married couples, and that actions like holding hands and displaying affection are perfectly all right. Which just got me thinking…

Why not get a set of t-shirts for the non-Normal, non-Optimal Malaysian couple? Please note that the terms Normal and Optimal are used sarcastically, which means that it's for couples that don't look like the normal sheep Malaysian couples tend to look like. These are for the freaks that deign to walk the same streets with the Normals.

Anyway:

• A couple t-shirt, with the words, “DAH KAHWIN LAH” in the front, and “WE'RE MARRIED LAH” in the back. (From Jordan's Blog).
• A baby t-shirt with the words “STOP STARING” or “APA TENGOK?”, right across the chest.
• For guys: “YES, YOUR WIFE LOOKS PRETTY GOOD TOO”.
• A couple t-shirt that says “MARRIED FOR LOVE, NOT FOR GREEN CARD”.

I dunno. They look pretty lame on paper. I wonder how well they'd do.

Evil Internet Connection.

I've been struggling with my Internet connection all night.

It sporadically goes wonky, and some sites, like Petaling Street, are completely inaccessible.

Downloads would stop in the middle, and I had to restart them. Occasionally they tell me that Google.com doesn't exist.

I'm so stressed out. This is such a load of bullshit.

The Somewhat Simple Thing

Tea. Not your usual Earl Grey-Starbucks-based tea, but good old plain Boh — cheaper, but harder to get, especially when you were in London.

Currypuffs. The maid, who has been in the family since I was six months old, always makes them for Ramadhan. She knows what I like, so she adds more beef than usual.

Some really expensive-but-tasty kuih my maid got from Bangsar. The kuih keladi was exquisite.

Fish fingers. Baked beans.

It isn't much, but it's always the simple things that you missed the most. I said it once, and I'll say it again — I'm glad I'm home.

YARP

Yeah, yeah. Basically, this is another Ramadhan post, just like Hani's, Pick Yin's Najah's, Zsarina's, Jordan's, Idlan's, Dina's, Ash's, oh, hell, who knows. You're a Muslim? You're fasting? Post lah your YARP, before they take away your blogger's license.

Funny thing is, I can never seem to connect to Najah's and Zsarina's blogs. They always time out on me. I wonder why.

Anyway. Ramadhan. That time of the year again. Hell, what do I put in for my YARP? We've had our obligatory musings, the occasional Qur'anic verse, tales of how converts deal with Ramadhan and what not. Personally, I like Dina's Ramadhan post best — this one doesn't count, it's too short. It reminds me that the puasa is not just a religious thing, but an essentially human thing, with all the stupidities and snobberies associated with it.

I know, I know. Not happy with something until I take it down. I'm not very sentimental at all, am I? Not really. Yes, I know the significance of Ramadhan, as well as the associated hikmah that Ramadhan is supposed to teach. But every time this month comes I am assaulted not by holiness, but by memory.

My past two Ramadhans have been easy, but completely lonely. This is the first time in two years where it feels like I am performing the ibadah as a member of a community, not as an isolated Muslim in a sea of unbelievers. I didn't hang around the Muslim community in London a lot, see.

I kept forgetting how social Ramadhan was, until I didn't have that buffer surrounding me. Alone, by myself, I was reminded how precarious my situation was, and it hurt. It rubbed my soul raw, in a sense, because I felt like I had no anchor — either with family or my fellow Muslim friends.

Not this time. Yesterday we ended up having buka puasa with some friends. Blew a fortune, but it was worth it. Tonight is more or less the same, except that I won't be blowing a fortune — the food will hopefully be free. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure this year I'll never be breaking fast alone. If I can help it, I never want to break fast alone again.

I'm glad I'm home.