fake plastic words

11:55 PM
Categories: analog, beauty, dreams, film, fm2n, friends, lovers, memories, moments, past, tempest. Author: sleepwalker

The Dark Knight could possibly be the new Blade Runner. Reborn in a much more intricately weaved picture of the ever so bleak anti-hero plot. Complex, riveting and intelligently portrayed. This might just be Christopher Nolan's finest hour. I'm sure most would agree that Memento was probably his best work, but let's just agree to disagree just for the duration of this meandering post.

This film challenges many known conventions that Hollywood holds dear for decades. It questions the film industry's all-too-well known big blockbuster formulas. Hero has incredible (and sometimes superhuman) abilities, beats the bad guy to a pulp, saves the city (and sometimes the entire galaxy), saves the girl, kisses her under the oh-so-artificial purple sunset and lives happily ever after. It has been pretty damn nauseating watching different films with such similar plots. You only need to watch the first 20-30 minutes to be able to mentally carve out the entire plot of the movie, including the part where the hero and heroine do tongue Olympics like there's no tomorrow.

What I like most about the film is that it shows the entire spectrum of Batman's fictional story in it's truest form. It shows the reality of the film, the comic, the underlying narratives. There's no sunshine and rainbows, no dodging bullets, no impossibly drop dead gorgeous heroine, and no crazy escapes from certain death scenarios ala Ethan Hunt.

The Joker was obviously the focal point of the film, accidental or not. Although the movie is about Batman, Gotham's dark knight, The Joker somehow managed to effortlessly outshine Batman by a mile. No doubt I do personally find Batman's character endearing and rather interesting. Elements of duality and dichotomy in it's character is extremely strong. Complete polar opposites when brought together creates a very strong attracting force, and that's exactly why Batman, and other superhero characters, have managed to attract legions of frenzied fans like gravity. Apart from the fancy gadgets and tight leather suits, of course.

But The Joker was really something else. In Heath Ledger's own words, he said that The Joker was a "psychopathic, mass murdering, schizophrenic with zero empathy". Well, we all have come across such characters in other films before. But what Heath brought to the film was truly unique. Just like how Johnny Depp brought life to Captain Jack Sparrow, so did Heath in playing the role of The Joker.

What I find interesting is the genius behind the madman's character. In the film, he was always a few steps ahead of the entire mafia, the police force, and even the almost infallible Batman. He masterminded the entire plot to shake the very foundation of Gotham's soul, and succeeded. He was completely out of his mind, but the measure of his intelligence, fearlessness and flawless execution was beyond doubt. It's usually the first assumption that crazy people are, well, just crazy. But insanity is far from being one-dimensional. The multitudes of creative possibilities that arises from the condition, or disease if you may, are unquestionable.

The eccentrics, the lunatics, the schizos, the manic depressed, the drug addicts, are a broken lot. But in between those cracks lies a silver lining that most are completely oblivious and unaware of. Even in the most wretched of broken things. Madness is the reverse of reason, and what is opposite of what we perceive as normal, scares us. It is only human to fear what we don't understand. But despite all that, and despite one of my most favourite dead person Michel Foucault's very convincing criticisms on the romanticism of madness, I believe there is some concrete truth behind the silver lining of insanity and chaos. History never lies, and it has shown that our world have been shaped by men who did extraordinary things, who thought outside of the box, who took the road less taken, who said and did things that were widely believed to be unconventional (at their own respective times in history).

But of course, I'm talking in the most general sense of the word. The "insanity" that I speak of here, does not mean that such a person is a "psychopathic, mass murdering, schizophrenic with zero empathy". What I mean is that a person who is deemed to be "insane" is simply someone who embodies one or more characteristics that is against societal conventions. It is a strong word, no doubt. But it's merely a word nonetheless. A composition of letters. An idea.

I have always strongly believed in the idea of duality. Without either half, life and existence as we know it will cease to prevail. Nothing will make sense without the intertwining of opposites. Everything is relative. What little I understand from Einstein's General Theory of Relativity is that everything needs something to be compared to in order for it to be measured, calculated, weighed, and understood. Everything needs an opposite for it to work. An atom without an electron will not work. A married couple of two chatterboxes will not work. The cold hard steel pistons in your car will not work without slick, slippery grease. That Hugo Boss jacket won't come crawling to you without pushing for overtime at work.

"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction", wrote you-know-who centuries ago. I know there's a paradox behind that law, but scrap that and just think about it on the surface. It explains this whole duality nonsense in the simplest way possible. Newton's Third Law of Motion doesn't need to only apply on motion between objects (again, scrap the maths), but on the motion of life. The formula speaks of the movement between order and chaos, good and evil, life and death. The application of the law is far reaching, extending beyond the realm of science and into places that even mathematical equations can't fully explain in its entirety. I have an easy example. Think of karma; if you do wrong to someone, you will get it back. Bitch slapped right across your face, in this life or the next.

Without one, what will be the other? And more importantly, what will "be"? Will we ever know what is light if there is no darkness? Will we ever appreciate life if there is no death? Will we ever truly feel love if there is no suffering? Will we treasure something truly beautiful if nothing before it is ugly? Will we find our soulmate if we have never met all the wrong ones? Will we ever know what is real if we have never dreamt? Will we ever have faith if we have never lost it?

1:34 AM
Categories: dark knight, film, flickr, genius, heath ledger, hollywood, insanity, madness, review, the joker, thoughts. Author: sleepwalker

I had a fucking blast at Urbanscapes!

I was there since morning helping out my friends set up Young Posh & Broke's booth at Threadzoo. None of us had ever done this before, so everything was pretty damn haphazard. We brought along a printer and laptop to print the remainder of our In Case of Emergency freebies. But it ran out of paper halfway. Doink. We arranged and rearranged the tables, clothes hanger, shoe rack, and everything once every 20-30 minutes from noon till mid-day. Again, doink.

Although the event officially started at noon, people started to slowly come in around 11ish. We were terrible salespeople to say the least. Half of the time the girls were preparing unfinished In Case of Emergency freebies. The guys were just hanging out at the back, complaining of the heat, the expensive beer, and bathing our faces with ice cubes. Some of us would disappear every now and then, to get more drinks, check out other booths, snap pictures and god knows what else.

Despite all that, Young Posh & Broke was a real crowd puller. It was raining strangers on our booth from mid-day all the way into the afternoon. Artsy fartsy wannabes, punk rock kids, tudung-clad girls, aunties and uncles, and some local band members and celebrities came to check out and buy our stuff. Our booth was the loudest, thanks to Molly. It wouldn't have been the same without her really. Young Posh & Broke was the only booth that gave away freebies; old-school candies, bubbles, lighters and condoms. Random feedback later said people found them useful. Ehem. I bet. We were pleasantly surprised that the In Case of Emergency freebie tags were a hit!

All in all, we did pretty damn well. Considering the fact that Molly and Farah came up with the idea barely a couple of weeks before Urbanscapes and thought "Eh jom jual", and that half of our cap's printing came out a disaster hence forcing them to improvise and fix all of them by hand through sleepless nights, it all worked out in the end. Young Posh & Broke started out as a joke on Facebook. Molly created a group on Facebook and invited friends to join, just for the hell of it. And now, suddenly, it's a clothing label.

There are plans set in motion. With potential projects in the future, in KL and probably some place else as well, and buckets full of new ideas. There are offers to supply more trucker caps and orders all the way from Sydney have been placed. There'll also be a men's clothing line, mainly t-shirts. We have our very own domain, and hopefully will be up and running soon. It's amazing how many people are helping out Young Posh & Broke. Thanks a bunch to Brick, Opy, Zulie, Kim, Amer, Alia B, Deanna Ibrahim, Wei Chien, and others (you know who you are). Envy Magazine has also been one of our earliest silent supporters. Warms our hearts to no end, really.

We closed Young Posh & Broke's booth late in the afternoon, since almost all our stuff were sold (particularly the trucker caps) and decided to call it a day. I went on later to join some friends to enjoy the rest of the day. I didn't manage to catch the acts I wanted to see, particularly Paolo Delfino, Otam and Kokaina (the Acoustic Livehouse was crazy packed). I missed out on the screenings, I was dying to see Flower in My Pocket and Ciplak. I walked around to check out the photography and art exhibitions; They Art Studio, Creative United Movement, Lost Generation Art Space, Wondermilk, 24-Hour KL, etc.

They were also other things I missed out on. KL Poetry Slam (by Dram Projects & WordForward), Rather Peculiar Theatre, Air Con (by Shanon Shah, presented by Instant Café Theatre’s FIRSTWoRKS). Though I did manage to watch a teeny weeny bit of a play, but I'm not sure which one. I remember a large man prancing around in a baju kurung. There were also shorts, experimental and music videos curated by KLue, Cinejam and Hello Motion. I got to watch a bit of Pure Vibracion and Bittersweet. I passed by a crowd going nuts singing along and jumping and moshing around to Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. I'm not sure who was spinning at that time. Lap Sap or maybe Twilight Action Girl?

The Threadzoo was pure madness. Some friends of mine set up shop there too, Ladyesah, Not Frumpy and Button My Buttons There was a non-stop flow of sweaty wide-eyed people in that scorching hot tent. It was nice to see a lot of enthusiastic fashionistas, girl and guys and all those in between, shopping like nobody's business, indirectly helping and supporting the burgeoning local indie fashion scene. The Marketplace also included stalls by Tongue In Chic, Bijou Bazaar, The Threads Zoo, Kraftgrafik x Lapsap REMIX Junkyard, British Council, Angkatan Baju Malaya and more. There was also a last minute mini photography exhibition done by Futuna and helped out by her boyfriend, Xumb. Her prints are fucking amazing, I kid you not.

There were some fair share of unavoidable dramas that day. Most of which I'm not even going to bother to write about. It was yet another day full of encounters with my past. I still find it amusingly odd that all of my exes were there. I spent half of the day with one ex, the other half with another one. Had a brief drama session with one. And I think I saw another one of my ex somewhere in the crowd. Occasions like these have been happening once too often. How strange. We stayed back for the last act of the day, Bass Agents. I had so much fun my cap, t-shirt, pants, underwear, socks, shoes and everything were drenched in sweat!

But of course, I can't close this entry without talking about the best part of the day. I was with Zara and my bestfriend, lying on the grass watching Bittersweet. There was this adorable little kid, with chubby cheeks and big round eyes, loitering about near us. He was running in circles headbanging to the beat of the music. Stumbled and rolled around the grass, then sat up, still headbanging. He crawled around and picked up an empty beer can. I smacked it out of his hands, and he just laughed. He crawled around again, and picked up a cigarette bud. By that time his mother (or so I think), came and picked him off. He was so adorable, doing the most unchildlike nonsense. Which makes me wonder, are those signs of an excitingly bleak future for this cute innocent kid? Full of sex, drugs and rock and roll. As of now, he is officially the coolest kid ever.

4:38 PM
Categories: art, exhibition, fashion, film, gig, indie, klpac, music, sentul, threadzoo, urbanscapes, young posh and broke. Author: sleepwalker

18th June, 9.09am:

I slept the shallowest of sleeps. I retired to bed much too late and rose much too early. I had a strange, strange dream. My cats, an ex-girlfriend and I was in it. I dreamed that Dylan, Sid and Jonsi died. She knelt on their graveyard, her face dripping with sorrow, and sat there silently. She turned, suddenly, and looked at me long and hard. I couldn't tell what she was trying to tell me with that cold, solemn stare. I had already died by then. Time was of no essence. Every scene was juxtaposed without any beginning nor ending. The mise en scene was confusing. But I remember the bits and pieces. And I remember that it was strange.


19th June, 12:45am:

As of 4.30pm today, decades ago, I came into the world in complete silence with one eye shut and feet as long as my thighs. I did not yelp a single cry. For a brief moment, my parents went berserk thinking I was a half blind, mute, semi-disfigured baby with alien legs. Thankfully, that was just a temporary joke God played on them. For whatever reason, remains a cosmic mystery. Probably for all eternity.

Fast forward to today, I am a healthy, cynical dreamer with no definite plans for world domination. Yet. There is just too much to type out the story of my life. Too much have gone by, and there is too little time and much too large of an ego (to not come off as being a tad too narcissistic) to realistically write about one's autobiography in a single page.

"My body is my temple", they say. Though I don't know if that's the case for me. I wish it was otherwise, but that's just useless wishful thinking. Over the years, my mind, body and soul have been riddled with bullets of shitty diet, haphazard hangat-hangat taik ayam workouts, infinite amounts of sins, cigarettes, and general substance abuse. As a result? I have a memory of a goldfish, fitness of a 12 year-old, guilts of a Protestant gay priest, and a perfect pair of charcoal lungs.

My only consolation lies in my firm belief that mistakes are what we're made of. I'd rather go through a life of rollercoaster than to cruise through life mechanically and monotonously with hardly any memorable bittersweet moments of stupidity and disaster. I've had a difficult, yet colourful life. And I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful for all the memories, good and bad. For the people, friends and foes and lovers and family, that have came and gone and stubbornly stayed. For all the wrong things that I have done to others, and others unto me. For all my mistakes, stupidity and immaturity in the past. For every single one of my failures. For every single gray day and hopeless moments of utter defeat. For all the memories, and that I still have a decently semi-working one to remember them all.

I'm thankful that I'm still breathing today. 'Cause y'know, I kinda like living. More so now than ever before. And I think there's still a lot of good I can do for myself and others; friends and family and strangers. I think so. Lets just hope that's not yet another wishful thinking.

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than to be absolutely boring" - Marilyn Monroe.


19th June, 2:20am:

I watched Nosferatu halfway. It's an insult to the film to doze in and out of sleep, so I decided to lay it off till tomorrow. I hate sleeping.

2:33 AM
Categories: birthday, dreams, family, film, friends, gemini, gray days, health, lessons, life, memories, mistakes, night, past, quote, sleep, strange. Author: sleepwalker

The sleeve says:

"Rainer Werner Fassbinder's controversial, fifteen-hour-plus Berlin Alexanderplatz, based on Alfred Döblin's great modernist novel, was the crowning achievement of a prolific director who, at age thirty-four, had already made forty films. Fassbinder’s immersive epic, restored in 2006 and now available on DVD in this country for the first time, follows the hulking, childlike ex-convict Franz Biberkopf (Günter Lamprecht) as he attempts to "become an honest soul" amid the corrosive urban landscape of Weimar-era Germany. With equal parts cynicism and humanity, Fassbinder details a mammoth portrait of a common man struggling to survive in a viciously uncommon time."

The story:

"Based on Alfred Döblin's influential and prescient epic novel about the waning days of the Weimar Republic, Berlin Alexanderplatz traces the fall of Franz Biberkopf, an urban Everyman, as he attempts to make his way through a society compromised by unemployment, violence, anomie, and promises of social order proclaimed by conflicting political parties. Fassbinder not only adapted Döblin's complex narrative for the screen but also composed an original two-hour epilogue in which Biberkopf travels through a turbulent dreamscape emerging from his and Germany's experiences." - MoMa.org

I've always had a thing for European films, both classics and contemporary. Strange thing is I've never really fancied epic films much. I'm patient and I can wait, but I prefer the fast forward button more. Which begs the question, why this 15-hour film? The truth is, I have absolutely no idea. I just want to. I just feel like it. One thing's for sure, I'll need to hide the remote. Far, far away from arms reach.

I foresee saying to myself, sometime in the not so distant future perhaps, "Aha. There goes 15 hours of my life".

12:25 AM
Categories: epic, european, film, german, monumental, movie, novel, weimar. Author: sleepwalker