Dongeng Sang Kancil (2024)

 

Remember the beloved Sang Kancil and its escapades, using purely wits and wisdom, going through the challenges, obstacles cunningly and ending up a brilliant victor? In folklore, these characters are known as tricksters, you would see them in Brer Rabbit of Uncle Tom's Cabin – an African American folklore, Puss In Boots himself and many human/god characters like Loki or Prometheus. Even the Indians have Thenali Raman

Well, Sang Kancil was our answer, our equivalent to those characters.

And the Sang Kancil of this film is not it!

I hardly saw any wit and wisdom from this famed mouse-deer. This Sang Kancil, is out for blood after seeing his mother killed by some dark force (like literally). It's out for vengeance and that is what the plot of this whole damned film about. There are hardly any showcase of brilliant, and often hilarious wits and wisdom that we expect from the Sang Kancil that I talked about earlier

This one is a bloodthirsty sonofabitch who would trick anyone to get his way and not in any means that can be evaluated as being clever or brilliant. He is just good strategist, that's about it.

And the level of bloodthirstiness. This 2.5D(?) animation is filled blood and gore. Yes, you actually see pool of blood among the bodies (especially the poor rabbits) strewn over, The bad buys (a panther) is portrayed as vicious, violent and vile – the film-makers went a bit overboard to portray him as the sadistic most meanest mofo in the flick, hell-bent in taking over the jungle (there is a colonialism subtext going on, or I am reading too much into the film?).

The animation is fine, by Malaysian standard at least, though it seems that they did borrow heavily from the Disney stock characters and peppered it with some Anime stuff. The battle scenes are pretty well done, I especially liked the fight between the panther and the crock – quite intense actually - until of course, when it gets gory.

Yet, very few characters are memorable. The lead baddie, the panther would probably the deadliest bad guy in the history of Malaysian cinema. Most would like the old Sifu character, a squirrel that's pretty nifty with footwork and was probably funny in three occasions. The rest are forgettable (oh, I also like the fact that in the crocodile gang, the animators included variations, like including alligators and gharials as well). 

Things could have sailed smoothly but for the climactic battle that got too violent, too gory and too bloody for a film of this nature – it received a P12 classification – meaning kids below 12 can watch it with parents' guidance. Well, I tell ya this – some can be traumatised seeing the cute fluffy animals' body strewn with blood all over the place. The rating is wrong. The film-makers didn't know where to draw the line.

Plus the voice acting is still at the RTM Drama Minggu Ini or, those early days dubbed Japanese animation standard. Pretty poor, I tell ya. But our country is not abundant with great onscreen talents, and I am sure it reflects on the behind the scene ones too. What to do. We do lots of biting more than what we can chew in this industry.

Finally, it makes sad that they did not adapt fully the actual Sang Kancil mythology to the screen. It would have been an awesome entertainment, instead of some dark Snyder-verse influenced shit they came up with here. Sad.

2024: End Of the Crappy Trilogy.

    

This will be a follow-up to my reviews of the years 2022 and 2023 both years which got progressively worse especially for us Malaysians. This year, 2024, ends the (hopefully) the shitty trilogy – the next era will be made for TV short-lived miniseries – if you get my cynicism here. Unless Malaysians get to their senses and do something about it – like not believing that one man can reduce the fuel price the next day after he wins election. Simple, right?

And that would be an understatement, especially when you take note of the great pile of dung that has speedily been gathering up lately, especially with inept leadership all over the world, most notably in our own country, and that nature really, really hates us.

Allow me to weave in and out of the country, to the international events, and pick some of the most interesting events, which usually means lots of face-palming and groaning. Hold on to your horses, or, anything else, err…handy.

X-citing Leadership

In the global arena, mid-January was greeted by the appointment of a new King in Denmark (yes, descendants of Hamlet, in a way), Crown Prince Frederick who would be King Frederick X. Malaysians would probably be taken aback a trifle to note that, yes, we have our own very X, PMX (not to be confused with the motocross bicycle…you know, the one you ride on). The algebraic nature of X being filled with anything and everything will be the theme of our prime minister – that has since baffled his most hardcore supporters, especially members of the Bersih coalition that used to surrender themselves on the road, rolling their bodies on tar and gravel like Hindu devotees during Thaipusam. The leader and agent provocateur of the coalition, Margaret Hamilton, pardon me, Ambiga Sreenivasan, later expressed her disappointment over the slow-reform that the current leadership has been doling out. Gee Ambi, what were you expecting? Another Abraham Lincoln? Here we have a former jailbird who got behind bare not because he fought for our country’s freedom, but his sexual freedom.

The good news, though, for Malaysians, like Denmark, we got ourselves a new King too. This time, it’s the no-nonsense Sultan of Johore. Those who know the Johore royalty (I come from that state) knows that the members there do not treat words like meat in Bolognese sauce. They love the subjects (Johoreans, not you other buggers and gals) and are equally very firm. And yes, we use pasta for our laksa.

The first thing the king did was to give warnings to the MPs in parliament to not “overstep the boundaries”. This is very much in the view that the parliament has indeed become circus-like with cracks in the alliances, hocus pocus of quitting and some MPs going rogue like batik-wearing Rambo or something.

The Swift US of A.

Speaking of which, the US continued with its usual way of life, including another school shooting incident killing a sixth grader and wounding 7 other folks. Ah, American way of life, the NFL, Budweiser and shooting of kids in school - a great tradition like Thanksgiving turkey that goes all the way to 1764.

February though – bereft of any schoolkid shooting – still belonged to the Americans and one in particular – Joe Biden…. Haha, who am I kidding? 2024, as far as US is concerned belonged to Taylor Swift. Yes, the world was invaded by Swiftmania rather…err, swiftly. Why, according to this entry, “...she made history when she won the Grammy Award for album of the year for Midnights (2022), becoming the first artist to win in that category four times. Later that year she broke the record for the highest-grossing concert tour when her global Eras Tour wrapped up in December, having earned a whopping $2 billion”. That could feed the members of the entire Forbes billionaire list.

Malaysians were so charmed, so much so, they watched in awe as Swift performed live in…. Singapore. It’s no secret that international artists tend to jump over our country like clogged drain to the island next door to do mega concerts. Hell, even over-the-hill Indian artistes are postponing their concerts…and typical of discipline-averse Indian artistes -  with their “great management skills”  - the concert  “A Lovely Night with Udit Narayan”, was called off days before it was due to be held at the Setia Spice Arena on Nov 28. This is actually a sequel to another Bollywood concert pulled out last minute at end of last year as well. A concerted coitus interruptus.

There is nothing wrong with that. It is just that we already have the reputation for banning artists from coming and performing here; there is a whole bunch of history of us banning musicians coming here to play. To the point that most international artists look at us the way vegetarian monks look at medium rare steaks.

KK ‘k?

Come March, we had the Kalimah Allah issue (yeah, you are permitted to shake your head slowly, sadly, and sigh your tobacco or vape smoke out), which I have written about in-depth here. There were cries of boycott and braying for blood. It has so much of effect that the affected party, the KK convenience store, has opened up more outlets. Whole point of being a” convenience” store which we call out for blood conveniently and then shop for convenience, parking our vehicles next to the outlet… illegally. It’s a must or you are not a Malaysian. It’s business as usual now for KK Mart and its customers. Others may call it hypocrisy; we call it, “quick to forgive”. Hey it’s in all holy books.

Bombing Aids.

As the conflict in Middle-East continued in the tradition of 1001 Nights, March also saw – surprise, surprise - the US dropping humanitarian aid in the war-torn Northern Gaza. What do you call a duck hunter that kills the mother duck, and spreads seeds for the ducklings. Fattening them up?

Naturally, wry comments sprung up, whereby Dave Harden, a former USAID director, noted, "The airdrops are symbolic and designed in ways to appease the domestic base.".

Skin Theatre

Actually the whole bloody operation was completely criticised for being screwed up, whereby Oxfam (Oxford Committee for Famine Relief) stated that it did not support the "ineffective" aid drops and called them a way "to relieve the guilty consciences of senior US officials". Al Jazeera English described the airdrops as an "absurd spectacle aimed more at the news cameras than the people who need it.". Over here we just call it wayang.

In May, the country was faced with a shocking news which was not quiet wayang as it added to the ever-growing frustration against the football fraternity here – poorly paid players.

Haha, who am I kidding again? No, our football fraternity, already thick-skinned with getting trashed in the international arena, is now getting skin thinned by – acid attack.

Among others, that is. Yes, check the link and figure out the news yourself. Our sports minister, Hannah Yeoh, urged for a speedy investigation and blah, blah, blah. And nothing has been heard from here on this issue since. I tried searching for Hannah Yeoh’s latest news to see if she has gotten on top of the situation and become a guardian angel to these vulnerable footballers…and voila, I got this headline: Police confirm 7 reports filed against Yeoh. Oh well, business as usual.

Speaking of wayang, we now have a tourism ambassador - from a film industry, nevertheless - heading the news announcements in the month of June – for the state of Melaka. Yes, it is Hang Tuah. Haha. Again, who's leg am I pulling? It’s more of Hang Li Poh, actually, as Chinese movie star Fan Bingbing was appointed as Melaka Tourism ambassador. It’s a beautiful premise, almost as if Shah Rukh Khan was appointed as ambassador Marshall of Texas.

Tragic mid-year

Tragically, two headlines shocked the country in the months of July and August, involving both Malaysian Indian and an Indian from India. In July, social media influencer A. Rajeswary Appahu, known as Esha, was found dead in an apparent suicide. So, the communications minister announced amendments to the communication and multimedia act. The sad usual mentality of getting things done only when tragedy strikes that has been prevailing our country for so long. Likewise, an Indian national literally sank without trace in Masjid India. Till today nothing is known of what has happened, as she will join MH370 to be featured in future “unsolved mystery” shows and content entries.

Vanitick-tock

As far as social media is concerned, 2024 is definitely the year of TikTok. What was once dismissed as a bunch of kids’ online playgrounds is now joined by professionals and politicians plugging their stuff and attempting to look as cool and hip as we wish they are ardent students of hara-kiri. But nobody is paying any mind to them. Despite being celebrated more for the embarrassing moments, the damned thing reached a billion users two years ago and is expected to generate US$4 billion in influencer marketing spending. Yes, influencer is now even more powerful than a sales/marketing evangelist or actual religion evangelists (whichever is more profitable and has access to minors). At least influencers sound less threatening – though it rhymes with influenza.

Budge It.

Hark! October has arrived, and y’all know the best part of the month – October Fest. Yes, but that’s elsewhere, despite the fact that here and there pubs in the country do very, very, tame cleavage-less events. No, it’s an equally fantastic day of great promises and high, drunken lies that precede bad hangover and only sensual reward you get is watching related Ministers smacking their lips when the related allocations are mentioned.

Yes. In Malaysia, October is the month of Budget. This year, it is boasted, has the biggest budget ever in the history of the country. Which is a nice backhanded compliment to another record – debt that reached RM1.173 trillion, an increase of RM92.918 billion (8.6%) from the previous year. It may look frightening, but the article where I took the figure from assured me, hopefully you the readers, and the horse named Boo, that is not something to worry about. Let’s look at the article’s grandfatherly reassurance:

“…. not all debt is inherently bad. If managed correctly and used to fund productive investments, the debt could generate returns that more than offset the costs. The key is ensuring that borrowed funds are allocated to projects that stimulate economic growth and improve the country’s fiscal health in the long term…...”

Keywords “managed correctly”. In Malaysia? Where politicians get their respective asses hauled regularly in court for treating public money like personal whores? Right.

Trust issue

As if “budget” sparked a curse or something, the month of November immediately hauled Khazanah Nasional – yes, our very own treasury – into the limelight (or headline, whichever you prefer) with the issue involving Fashionvalet Sdn Bhd prompting the anti-corruption crusaders, MACC to confiscate documents from the…. wait for it…

…. finance ministry and Khazanah itself. How about that? The private company has been charged with criminal breach of trust. But what about public’s trust with our national treasury that has gone down the toilet bowl?

And so, we end the year with the news of a PKR member insulting the Agong. Ever since Najib has left the stage, the royalties has been subject to not too flattering statements and off-the-cuff remarks by some prominent politicians. Since the cat has been away, the rodent leaders have been cartwheeling their cheese with glee. 

So, there you go. There may have not been absolutely shocking events that rocked the country to the core like the drop in fuel price as promised. It’s going to be status quo, until the next election, less the folks are swayed again by empty promises. Till the next year in review, happy New Year.

Gladiator 2 (2024).

A quarter of a century has passed since the Gladiator premiered all over the world. I was 24 years old at the time, working in Singapore. I had just started taming myself as a cinephile, a movie nut, or a celluloid freak, if you will.

 I had watched Russell Crowe in LA Confidential before and saw a magazine cover proclaiming that he is the next Brando. You kidding me? I watched Gladiator later, and my jaw dropped. He is a mix of the classic Hollywood stars like Heston and Mitchum, plus Brando and de Niro. The dude has it.

 Plus, he made me cry. I cry only to Tamil films starring Sivaji Ganesan, Kamal Haasan, or Rajinikanth. But Russell Crowe? Dammit, man!

 Now, fast forward to the 25-year mark, and the same director, Ridley Scott, released a sequel. A goddamned sequel. Nobody asked for it. The hell is wrong with him? When it was announced, I just facepalmed and said, it ain't gonna work.

 And watching it, it exactly was how all of us (yeah, many were facepalming to the point that their mothers couldn't recognise the kids) had imagined. It's not as good as the first.

 But is it bad? I never liked almost all of what Ridley Scott has directed since the first Gladiator. Even Napoleon was a snoozefest.

 Now that Crowe's character kicked the bucket in the first film, I had nothing to look forward to in this film. I told myself that it's going to stink so bad that I would crawl my way back towards the movie theater exit.

 But.

 Yes. But.

Lately,  I had this habit of watching important films on big screen right after lunch. Yeah, you get sleepy, and will the film engage you? My favourite director's film failed that test.

 I had pasta, Marinara, then apple pie. I walked in, knowing well that I was going to have a great nap. Early YouTube reviews were, well, negative. So what.

 But whaddya know. I was engaged. Marinara failed, and so did the goddamned apple pie.

 You see, when they announced that Denzel Washington was gonna be in this movie, I went, “Oh, come on!”. I mean, he is a great actor, but he ain't no Meryll Streep, the chameleon of a performer. Washington basically does a lot of grimacing, lip-smacking, shit, and stuff. No. He is more of an Eastwood kinda performer, limited but knows how to draw the gun and hit the target.

 Yet, I can see why Scott chose him. Thanks to Washington's performance in Training Day (2001), dry, negative, and, as they say in the industry, typed against cast, he was a triumph in this film. He is the livewire. Without him, there is no film.

 Look, I had always had this opinion, if I may, that Denzel is overrated. He is mostly himself, but in a classic sort of way, say, Steve McQueen—a great actor who always brings magic to each film.

 And that is exactly what he brought to the film. Take him out, and the film collapses like a frameless circus tent.

 There are one too many Collesuem fight scenes, which may bore some out, but they are intriguing. All the onscreen performers did their best, and I was so overjoyed to see Connie Nielsen again. Never aged (there is a flashback scene where I suppose they did about 17 minutes of work to de-age her). I fell in love with her in the first film, and well, I injured myself this time. Oh, she's a great actress too.

 The Mescal and Pascal dudes did their job well. I think the whole thing about connecting to the first film is a bit of a whacky con job just to satisfy the fans of the earlier film, with even clips with Crowe shoved in (it could have been dealt with with just dialogues alone), but what the hell?

 Yet, I liked it. It's not going to be a classic like the 1999 flick, no way. But watched on its own, it has its own merit. It's alright. But unlike the first one, I do not think I would wanna rewatch it. And despite that, 
I shall just give it a thumbs up.

 

 

Red One (2024)

Just posted a rather short review of Wicked. Now here comes an even shorter one.

Whoever thought The Rock would be a great movie star, maybe prophetic. But if they thought that he is the next Schwarzenegger... feggedaboutit.

As much as you can complain about Arnie’s acting, the man still had some stuff in him. With exception of heavy drama, he works well in any given genre.

That is not the case with Dwayne Johnson. He has probably three sets of expressions, and I am very generous here. I could never understand his so-called "charisma." He is too annoying, begs for attention, and, hell, annoying. And I hate the fact that he is well known for his eyebrow schtick. Have you heard of Sean Connery?

The film is stupid. There, I said it. And almost all the critics out there hate it. The premise of Santa Claus being kidnapped could have been worked into an awesome adventure fantasy flick instead of another vehicle for The Rock.

J.K. Simmons is fine as Santa. I liked Chris Evans, but his “whoa” looks can be grating at times, but he did fine with whatever material he has.

So, there you go. I think this is even shorter than my Wicked review. The critics already created a bomb crater for this missile to hit.

Wicked (2024}

I, for one, am not a fan of fantasy flicks; no Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings films were too heavy handed to me. I only watched the first two anyway.

And that, plus musical? The only Hollywood musical I enjoyed was The Blues Brothers (1980) and a slew of the pre-1960s stuff. Boy was in for a treat.

I didn’t quite enjoy myself. Sure, the production design was fabulous, and the CGI deployed is apt, considering the subject matter. But it was a drag, up to the point the two leads, played by Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, meet the wizard, played with such relish by the one and only Jeff Goldblum.

Basically, being the sweet musical that it aspires to be, there is not much conflict, not much obstruction, in what would be some sort of road journey—after all, this is an adaptation of a book that is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. A sort of origin story to the Witch, that is. Except that she is supposed to be... Wicked, yes, and...evil?

It’s boring as hell, except Grande managed to be cute and funny and steals the show here and there, as if that is necessary. Goldblum, is Goldblum... He is a delight even when reading a phone book (don’t tempt him; he is such a crowd-pleaser).

There’s supposed to be a part two? Ugh…

 

no p.A.I.n no g.A.I.n: AI and penmanship: Part 2

It has been more than a year since I wrote the first part. At that time, there was, what in Malay we’d say desas desus (hearsay) about the capacity of artificial intelligence (AI) invading anything and everything except your physical orifices. Or so, I hope.

Being a writer, I gave my pointers there, mostly pooh-poohing—or is it pooh-pooying? Damn. Let me check my browser co-pilot, an AI app, of course. It says:

“… The correct expression is "pooh-poohing." It means to dismiss or belittle something. The phrase is often used to describe someone who downplays an idea or concern in a dismissive way.

Have you heard it used in an interesting context recently?”

I hate it when it ends with what looks like a hook for continued conversation, the sort you do with some hot chick. Or, dude, depending on your orientation. Anyway, in that post, I mentioned this:

Features with interviews, unless written in Q&A format, can never have the flair that a writer who throws her character in the mix when fleshing out the page detailing the encounters to the readers, who will see the colour and taste the flavour the author had intended in the piece.

This is where, in fact, I welcome AI. It is going to separate the real writers from hacks.

This agrees with this fabulous quote:

To be an author, you must be a human. The threat for students and researchers is really the same—overrelying on the technology. — Rose Sokol, PhD, publisher of APA Journals and Books

Thank you, Rose. I owe you a bouquet of... roses? Let me see AI try to write a dumb joke like that.

Now, since that post, a lot has happened. Sadly, those instances have countered my argument that writers are immune from the threat of artificial intelligence taking over their job. Guess what? I am bloody wrong, and we can look at the examples concerning scriptwriting alone.

Here’s the list (again, courtesy of ChatGpt):

There have been several notable short films and feature films produced using AI-generated scripts. Here are a few examples:

"Sunspring": This was the first short film created from an AI-generated script, written by an AI named Benjamin using a recurrent neural network called LSTM.

"The Safe Zone": Created by Filipino entertainer Richard Juan, this short film was both scripted and directed by AI, with ChatGPT providing the script and instructions for camera movements, lighting, and wardrobe.

"The Frost": A short film by Waymark, where the script was written by Josh Rubin and the visual scenes were generated by OpenAI’s DALL-E 2 model.

"Date Night": Developed using GPT-3 by Built In, this short film showcases a unique approach to narrative storytelling through AI.

"It's No Game": A sci-fi short film starring David Hasselhoff, with a script generated by a neural network.

Now, the good news is, none of them were headline makers. Which is reassuring. 

I would still think that writers like me are safe from all of what I do (career and passion-wise) being taken over by AI.

AI. cannot make similes and metaphors, which are as useful as toilet rolls during diarrhoea (see what I did there), which are also creative, or as my case here, terribly cringeworthy. AI-generated stuff would be as dull as British soap operas (except the actresses, of course).

But as mentioned in the previous post, many branches of the writing profession would die. Like how human arms have been replaced by robotic ones, simpler writing tasks will be totally taken over by AI. They will be looking at the direction of creative writers next, but there is no way they can come any nearer.

I mean, no AI can stoop low to make films like The Underdoggs, starring Snoop Dog. Never heard of it? Then you got my point.

Happy 20th Anniversary Grouchy Days.

Like most husbands and male lovers, I am afflicted with anniversary amnesia. Yes, I started this blog on 29th October 2004. I shoulda been talking about this instead of some shitheads named Trumps or something. 

But throughout those 20 years, I have had quite a ride. Wrote about my marriage, the birth of my son, then... you will notice the conspicuous gap between 2015 and 2019. Dark days, my friends, my alcoholism, subsequent submission to rehab, and in 2019, I was out. Let me see what the first thing was that I wrote: Ah, a movie review. How typical.

Like teens maturing into old men, right after a few months, I asked myself this question: Why do I blog? The rumination, which I recorded of course. I mentioned this: “You see, a long time ago I had wanted to become a columnist. An important columnist who dedicates his weekly column addressing socially critical issues like why the armpit needs bushes of hair.”

But most importantly, I said this: "I want a site to reflect on my own life and bore the hell out of the visitors. I want a log book where I can look back and say, "Men, was I that bad in writing?"
No, twenty years ago, Rakesh. You are alright in writing. You just suck in life. That was what had happened the last twenty years. The horrible ride.

Yet, I kept at it, not regularly. As and when, being such a lazy ass. But I have done quite a variety of styles, or genres, if you prefer, in fact. I’ve had in the site film reviews, op-ed stuff, parodies, or was just talking shit. But they were very fulfilling—er, not the shit part. Those posts were my gym training for writing muscles.

Here comes the vain part. I want to congratulate myself for having maintained this blog for that long a period. Even my marriage didn’t last long, much less my relationship with many cats (haha, a joke, you didn’t see that coming, did you?).

So, here’s to you, Rakesh, for another 20 years unless you are run over by a steam roller by then.

 

Old Grouch Fable Collection pt4

Our Feature Presentation

The Fox and the Grapes

A Fox named Cox one day caught a sight of a beautiful bunch of ripe grapes hanging from a vine over the branch of a tree like the bossom of a dame in an old painting. I should remind you dear readers that we continue to refer to him as a Fox named Cox because in the near neighbourhood there was a duck named Cox. We don’t want confusion with the Coxes, you see. Why are you giving me the dirty look?

Anyway, the Fox named Cox noticed that the grapes seemed ready to burst with juice, and the Fox’s mouth watered as he licked his tongue about his lips, thinking of how he would suck the very juice. Hey, wait a minute. It is beginning to sound dirty. 

The bunch hung from a high branch, so the Fox named Cox had no choice but to jump for it. The first time he jumped, he missed it by a long way and landed on his ass so hard that he may have lavatorial issues for several days, said the medical observers.

Right on, then, the Fox named Cox now walked off a shorter distance and took a running leap at it, only to fall again on his ass. “Anymore ass and ground meeting, Fox named Cox will have to defecate through__" I had to shut the observer off and send him back to Arkham Asylum.

And there you go. Fox named Cox was trying again and again till his ass looked like what exactly Flat Earthers had imagined the world looks like. 

Finally, he just sat down, tired, and looked at the grape with disgust.

“What a fool I am,” he said. “Here I am busting my chops just to reach a bunch of sour grapes that are not worth gaping for.” Or was it “gapes that are not worth graping for”? Gotta check the notes 

Whatever it is, he walked away very, very scornfully—dejected and feeling like shit—which is something this narrator can never understand. How does one qualify that statement, feeling like shit? Is the person saying he feels that he stinks or that he has felt shit delicately and understood what it is like, which is exactly like a loser fox? I don’t know

Moral: Just because you couldn’t marry a princess doesn’t mean that she suddenly becomes an ugly witch who doesn’t deserve you. You just couldn’t get her. simple as that, so eff off. 

Our lesser presentation (Budget constraint).

👠🔋🧵🥊✈️🚲🍌🐈‍⬛🤘

Goatherd and the Wild Goats.

It was a cold, stormy night when ghosts—oh, hang on. Different genre. 

Well, it was one cold, stormy day actually, when a Goatherd drove his goats for shelter into a cave. While hanging about freezing all their collective butts off, a number of wild goats also entered without even knocking because, you know, caves ain’t got no doors. Man, that is a hilarious joke, said nobody. Sorry.

The shepherd was, of course, delighted. Here are some assets walking right up to his lap—only not literally, or he would not be able to reproduce anytime soon. But there they are. With them onboard, the shepherd started feeding the wild goats really well. As for his own original flock, he fed the scraps just to ensure those sons of guns were alive enough.

When the weather finally cleared and the shepherd led all the goats out...dammit...whaddya know! the wild goats scampered off running to the hills. 

Disappointed, the Shepherd groaned “So much for gratitude, after feeding and treating you well,” said that whiny bitch. 

One of the wild goats heard that, reversed (no, not actual reverse; goats can’t do that; they don’t have R gear), turned and said, “Hah, you want us to join your flocks,” pausing for dramatic Shakespearean effect and continuing, "We know that if some new goats come in, you treat us like shit like how you did with your own goats." After spewing some profanities, that goat too left. 

Moral: Just because you got a new set of friends, relatives, or playmates (not the Playboy ones), you neglect the old ones, or would you? Damn, it’s humbling to get these lessons from future lamb chops and mutton varuval. Anyway.

A Tail of Fox 

(Actual title of this fable is Fox and the Tail.) I was just being…er, never mind.

A fox caught its tail in a trap and lost all of it, and there he was with bare butt walking around, not sure how to show its face in the fox community.

But he had an idea—to put up a bold face. So he called the other foxes for a general meeting. The others were confused. Is it election time? Has any fox chick run away with a cat or something?

The tailless fox started preaching about the uselessness of the tail. “Look, if you are chased by a dog, it can just reach your tail and bite the shit out of it. Why do you even need one?” he launched.

Plus, he also lamented that animals with tails can’t sit on their asses properly because of the bloody tail in the way. 

Listening to all this crap, the oldest, wisest of the foxes shook his head sadly and said, “You lose your tail, you lose your tail. That’s all. Don’t try to hide your shame by glorifying the lack of an ornament. In another word, why don’t you go and...” At that time a lion roared or something, so the profanity was gladly muted.

Moral: There are always some knuckleheads who are just too happy to bring you down to their level when their shortcomings are too glaring. Just tell ‘em the same thing the wise old goat said. 

 Old Grouch Fable Collection pt1

 Old Grouch Fable Collection pt2

 Old Grouch Fable Collection pt3

The Trump Card: Why The Americans Want The Orange One Back.

The US presidential election results may surprise you or, as with this writer, not. But what made Americans to go back to that orange guy, who had a shot at one term and did badly enough to not get second term?

Frankly, I don’t care one way or another about the US presidential elections, especially the now concluding contest between ex-President Donald Trump and the current vice-president Kamala Harris. But I should. What happens in the US reverberates across the globe (or platform, for the flat earth believers). It affects all of us. For one, the winner’s mug that’s gonnagoing to appear day in day out on newspapers and media portals online, and I would have preferred someone better looking, a gal especially. Too bad, Harris.

So, we are back at seeing the infamous Republican candidate Donald Trump’s bloated face and the roadkill hair for another 1460 days (that’s four years, by the way; stop scratching your head). What does this say about the US or A?

Since many of us do not follow these sort of news - our source of news usually comes from phone screens through social media shares (when our friends and family are not preaching on moral values). The only representation of the US for most of us are the celebrities, sport folks and fast food.

Speaking of celebrities, folks from these damned screen trade and music business have traditionally been leftist, big fans of the Democrats. Watch how they cosy up with the candidates, and we saw how ex-president Obama was too comfortable with Hollywood, even appearing in Saturday Night Live, a show notorious for its political satires that had often relentlessly poked more fun at the Republicans than the others. And now, it looks like Alec Baldwin has a new set of work cut out for him. Famous for satirising Trump through his performance on SNL, he himself had thrown his support towards Harris’ direction.

I mean, look at the overwhelming endorsement from Tinseltown and the recording industry, backing Harris. You will see big names on that link. And surprise…surprise! Even Trump's fellow party member, Arnold Schwarzenegger (Conan the Republican, as the media used to label him), said good stuff about Harris and slammed Trump for some “unpatriotic” stuff the latter has resorted to or has remarked about. Yes, the Austrian born knows a lot about patriotism, which he can regale in Austrian accent.

It was almost a no-brainer that, at that point of time, everyone thought that Kamala Harris is going to have the cake and eat it too, and Trump is the loser goofball with unpopular policies such as the immigration issue that smacked of racism, as some criticised.

But whaddya know? At the time of this writing, with two states left to be called, Trump has 295 electoral votes, while Harris has 226. Indeed, Harris has already conceded the 2024 presidential election to President-elect Donald Trump 

Interestingly, the analysts are unfazed by Trump's lead. Some of them are very certain indeed, having noted what had failed the last four years. “Donald Trump has been elected president again because the future of American democracy was not on the ballot in 2024. What was on the ballot was the record of a failed administration led by President Joe Biden and Democratic candidate Vice President Kamala Harris,” says Jonathan Tobin, the editor-in-chief of JNS.org, from an analysis piece in the Newsweek magazine. 

“As it turned out,” he continued, “a majority of Americans didn't buy the smear that Trump was an authoritarian or a Nazi or that the only thing mattered in determining our future as a nation was a Capitol riot that was falsely inflated into an ‘insurrection’.”

In my own personal observation for the last one year at least, there is the rise of conservatism in that country, especially in the media, such as podcasters and commentators from conservative front like Ben Shapiro, Matt Walsh, Candace Owens, and a host of others. Even the provocative, wildly popular podcaster Joe Rogan lent his last-minute support to Trum, something that the latter kept bragging about during his campaign rounds. 

One thing I suspect that may have taken place is the backlash against the rise of the woke culture that has been permeating the US, no thanks to those very celebrities mentioned earlier. Not to mention, overtly, the trans rights issue that sort of crosses the boundaries, irking even more detached disinterested blokes like me. 

All these contributed to the rise of conservatism, not only in the US but all over the world. It’s not surprising to find more folks returning to their religious roots, with Islam being the most popular one now and no matter which faith—the conservative route is the way the majority of the world population is taking on currently as religious nationalism is definitely on the rise.

Let us also not forget the assassination attempt, where, though the assassin was not within the earshot, still got Trump’s ear shot (thank you) that created waves of sympathy for the old man (surprised to note that no one brought up conspiracy theory that it was staged for publicity except these two women, I suppose)

There have also been complaints that Trump is going to be the first president with criminal charges hovering over him like a death drone—currently standing at four criminal indictments in four different cities as he reclaims the White House, totaling in 91 felony counts among others.

The US, which prides itself on being modern, open-minded, so on and so forth, is a nation of murderers and lots of other horrible stuff that I have covered before in pursuing the argument that it is not a great nation. Hence, this time, it deserves the comic relief leader it has chosen. It's going to be a great time for stand up comics, and the comedy circle in general.

Look, the current guy, Biden, who’s going to hand over the baton is basically a zombie and will not be missed. Obama may be good, but he is boring—he is just a nice guy, a supposedly virtuous family man, and, again, dull as dishwater.

Trump, with his criminal cases, his penchant to stick his feet in the mouth, and being inappropriate, rude, and dumb—incredibly all three at the same time—makes for great content, traditional or social media. I, for one, am really looking forward to his years as the president of the most decadent country in the world at the moment. Come on, for being the greatest nation in the world 18% of US adults (approximately 57.4 million people) are illiterates.

I am glad that Kamal Harris didn’t win. Gosh, if only she did, the amount of bragging by the Indian community world over, as if she is directly related to and have cooked Biriyani for them, would be unbearable. Welcome back, Donald Trump; and boy, are we in for great fun or what.

Violence A-stray!

There is an expression in Tamil, or should I say, a way of saying someone was shot mercilessly: “nadu road-la nayee sudura mathiri suttAngga” roughly translates to “was shot like a stray dog in the middle of the road.”.

The community of animal lovers and animal rights activists were up in arms recently with the news of the shooting of Kopi the stray dog in that exact manner. Okay, I am not a dog person, but how can I hate those guys? I see them every morning when I leave to work; they are about as harmless as butterflies. 

Also, the endearing thing about Kopi that got him popular was that clip of him playing with my people, little kittens. That “aww” factor. Cat and dog folks unite over that clip. 

Sure, stray dogs do get shot now and then, but they mostly don’t make it to the news. The authorities “slipped” when this time they picked the wrong creature to mess with. This time, it’s personal.

Issues of animal rights, abuse, and wrongful killing aside, what really worries me is the use of firearms. This is Malaysia. Gun law is such that owning one can get you in prison. If the authority can wave their weapons about and start shooting in the street, what would stop him from being dumb and start shooting at folks? Or if the bullet ricochets and hits some guy on the street right between the ass cheeks? What justification will these so-called authorities have for having produced a second arse hole? Because they are one?

So, I see two issues here. The freewheeling attitude behind the attempt to rid strays with costly and collateral damage-causing firearms, and the issue of animal rights itself. The stray animals are living, breathing creatures, just like human beggars and the infirm living by the street. 

Yes, there have been issues where strays have attacked little children, but I am coming back to the same issue: there shouldn’t be any strays in the first place. Men domesticated wolves and bred them into shapes and sizes according to their whims and fancy. They have the responsibility to take care of these creatures. 

Cats are quite independent; don’t give two hoots about human beings. But not dogs... their attachment to humans is legendary for centuries, and there are so many great tales out there about their loyalty and sacrifice. Plus, their usefulness extends to the authorities, and we should be grateful for their services—whether the cops, the customs department, or even the military. Their less than useful relatives do not deserve to be shot in the streets like that. Where’s the gratitude, human? 

Of course, when I said people were up in arms about, I meant all the outcry occurred mostly only online. When a bunch of folks decided to hold a rally protesting the incident, only two turned up, the organisers. So much for all the noise online.

Soon, the whole thing will die off until another stray gets shot. There are a handful of true animal lovers and organisation which will continue to monitor and make noise at the slightest sign of another act of abuse or handing out of street justice like this.

Anyway, fret not, the noise has gone to the parliament, and I do hope that they come up with something. Not that the current bunch of parliamentarians are the brightest and the best; there’s a whole bunch of red-nosed circus inhabitants in there, but let’s keep our fingers crossed. Something should come out of this. 

Come on, Nabi Muhammad S.A.W., despite Islam’s certain cautiousness over some animals, including dogs, did say: ““If someone kills a sparrow for fun, the sparrow will cry out on the Day of Judgement, ‘O Lord! That person killed me in vain! He did not kill me for any useful purpose.'” There are a whole bunch of quotes in that link where the Prophet talks about cruelty against animals. 

Judgement awaits these perpetrators.

Through The Teeth.

How was yours today?

I thought I should write this because this is an important moment in my life and a certain issue has to be addressed.

It was triggered from the poem I posted in my What’s App status sometimes back that I was going through today:

Lying Arse

Voice out

your frustrations.

But not to the

already exasperated.

Lie your way

out of your ass

But not to liars who’re

much too fast.

But everything is about

Situation, time and Place.

For every move is a

A hot board game of chess.

In any event, just

Don’t step on the mess.

That was left behind

When you were a pest

- RKP 24/04/2024

An acquaintance who saw the status chatted me up and asked, “What have you done?”. She meant, of course, why this, and, well, what have I done to pen that? I responded as follows (the parenthesis is for Tamil word):

“The point being the last four lines. The lies we told in the past will be the shit we step on in the future. Consequences (are always there). Law of nature (they’d say), (likewise) karma, Newton's law of motion, etc. But your past lies will be your present regret and future foil. Charles Dickens Christmas ghosts (like)”.

I would say over the last couple of decades, I have lied as little as possible, in real life and online—the latter of course depends on the content. As those who have read my blog posts and online articles may have noticed, my reviews are honest, while satiric pieces have b.s. all over them—but that is the whole point of satiric writing - telling deadly truth with light hearted b.s. 

But we cannot live without lying. Let’s say you have had massive diarrhea and made major deposits in the lavatory, and as you walk into the office, one of the colleagues whom you are not too close with asks you, “How are you?”. Are you going to regale him with the tragic tale of your overworked sore ass? Of course not; you will lie through your teeth and say, “I’m fine; how are you?”. Though he may have hit and run a cyclist that morning, naturally he’d say, "Fine.”

Then there are the professions. The first ones that come to mind would be politicians, lawyers, or a combination of both, because that one brilliant ability which is to pull stuff out of the ass is inherent in those two vocations. 

In asking the question as to why we lie to the ChatGPT, it gave a general answer. I followed it up, and this is what I got:

Sometimes ChatGPT really carries your balls, ain't it. Hope it's telling the truth. 

The word "fibs" in the last sentence means “lies” of course. On google search, this turned up at the top:

Synonyms for "to lie" include:

• Fib (informal)

• Tell a lie

• Be untruthful

• Stretch the truth

• Bear false witness

• Not tell the truth

• Fabricate

• Prevaricate

• Be economical with the truth (UK, humorous)

• Not tell the whole truth

• Tell a white lie

Why have I shared the above? Well, lying is such an important activity that it has sired so many synonyms and similar words, expressions, and slangs. 

Coming to what lying would mean to any individual, I like this explanation from this article: 

“Lies may be divided into two distinct motivational categories: prosocial lies that are constructed to benefit others; and antisocial lies that are selfish.”

To even expand it further, there are lies to hide some bitter truth, there are lies to self-elevate, there are lies because you gotta sell something that does not really measure up, there are lies because you don’t want to pursue certain subjects and move on, and there are lies because the one you are about to deceive does not need additional info—need to know basis only. You want to avoid them like plague. Except, usually, plague comes to you.

There used to be some sort of patron saint of non-lying (as opposed to The Truth, because who the hell knows what that thing is), called Harischandra. A king known for telling the truth and holder of values like honesty, integrity, and selflessness, the poor bloke had to face a shitload of challenges, issues, and stuff.

Aside: Raja Harischandra was the first Indian silent film... which is technically a lie, because India was not India till it was 1947, right? End of aside 

And of course, speaking of lying through the teeth, how about nose? Everyone knows Pinocchio’s story. Though I suspect it is an allegory about male sexuality insecurity, the more he lies to a woman he is attracted to, the better chance the hard-on will be put to good use. The nose hard on. Like Pinocchio. Arr... you know what I mean.

Which is why to live a life without telling a single lie is like taking a roller coaster ride on an ordinary railway track. The worst lies are the ones you tell yourself. But what the hell? The business of motivating others has been minting moolahs based on this premise. To feel better about yourself is to continue lying and believing in it.

What is long, hard and full of mucus?

Not to mention, lying is a direct proffession that folks believe and swear by. You see, the most sincere, hard-working, selfless astrologists make a living by dispensing personal prophecies to their clients. These prophecies are nothing but lies, of course, but believers usually bend the truth to the shape of those prophecies and convince others that those were accurate predictions. That is self-deception at its best.  

There are lies that evolve into conspiracy theories because it suits agendas. There are lies that gather more and more lies, solidify themselves, and become the truth, as those who set aside time daily for prayers will tell you. They then share those lies with others, and all of them coagulate into a dangerous group of people that is responsible for this:

If every religion is not lying, this would never have happened. But you just got...to...lie, ain’t you?

Which is why truth can only remain a pursuit and a journey only. Just like life, because the ending is where the real truth is, nothing is permanent—everything—wealth, family, love life, relationship, power, pets, memories, and that large block of chocolate you thought you could save up for days to come. Nothing lasts forever. This truth is so shatteringly terrifying, we might as well live a life full of lies, perform in front of others, and bow out of life's stage gracelessly and never to appear again.

Seriously, remember the first sentence I wrote above? I lied. To save your scrolling, I wrote: “I thought I should write this because this is an important moment in my life, and this has to be addressed.” To refer to the pix up there, it's absolutely bullshit!

I wrote this post because I was fucking bored and wanted to post something, anything, in my blog. Thanks for being deceived, suckers. Hahaha