Malaysia Boh-leh!

It is absolutely baffling. One looks at postcards of Malaysia and sees the airport and must think to one self, "Wow! This is a real modern country. I wonder why isn't it considered a first-world country?" Think about it. We have the gloriously tall and ingeniously named, 'Twin Towers'. Our sports facilities are also as expensive as a solid gold toilet bowl. As I mentioned earlier, our airport is also first-rate, and I know this because I have travelled and I can honestly say, there is no better airport I rather pay RM17 for a bottle of water then at KLIA. So this begs the question, What's the problem?

We are also just as civilised as any other investment banker in London, or a lawyer in Mumbai. You go for a drive and a traffic jam forces you to obey the speed limit. You go to pay at the supermarket, and the cashier scans your item 3 times before telling a runner to check the price at the shelf you got it from. Its all very civilised. So, again, what's the problem?

The problem is, we have first-rate 'stuff', but third-rate mentality. The people are the problem. Our mindsets. Kuala Lumpur would not look out of place in any other first-world country, if it were a ghost town, but because it is full of Malaysians, it is beatened as the rudest city in the world only by New York City.

Returning home after spending 6 months in another country, I am disappointed in the behaviour of my fellow Malaysians. This is almost as disappointing as finding out my new bedroom is smaller then my little sister's and that my adjoining shower only works in Morse code (hot, hot, cold, hot, cold, cold, hot, hot, hot, cold, warm).

For my less-travelled friends, you might not notice the things I notice. But let me put it to you this way; when was the last time you had a door held open for you by the person in front of you? When was the last time you received a smile and a compliment by the waitstaff at your favorite restaurant? When was the last time the toll booth operator wasn't rude to you? When was the last time the service you received at the shoe store could even be remotely considered as moderately helpful?

But do not laugh, you are just as guilty as everybody else. You litter, you spit in public, you drive with the reckless abandon of a mental patient, and you smoke in public places. I would not trust you to sit the right way on the toilet seat, and indeed, accuracy is sorely lacking in the men's room.

In accordance with my new policy of suggesting a suitable, if slightly moronic solution to any problem I bring up, here is my humble 6 step plan:

1. Acceptance of the problem; We must bow our heads and admit that we are not as great as we proclaim ourselves to be. Case in point, Proton, which continues to bleed money despite having a strangle hold on the local car market, and the laughing stock we call our national football team who lost 5-1 to China and 5-0 to Uzbekistan despite having sports equipment that impresses even the German soccer team.
2. Identify the problem; We spit, we litter, we speed, and we are proud of it. Knock it off!
3. Setting objectives; Why not we first try and act more politely to one another? Say please and thank you, let other drivers out of side lanes once in a while, even hold open a door or two! Lets live our life as if it were one big friendliness commercial.
4. Setting the plan in motion; You know what to do. Go forth and conquer! (with a smile, of course).
5. Postmortem; This is the time to sit back, relax, and admire the new, much better society which will lead to,.... lead to,.......

Well, that was a complete waste of time. As far as I can see, nothing good will come out of being better people anyway. Forget about the 6th plan which involves gloating and generally acting snooty to other, lesser countries. Oh well. As you were Malaysia.

Duriano; The Currency of the Future!

Early one morning, Mother Earth stumbled drunkenly into her laboratory after a night of heavy partying with Father Time, and created a new species of fruit. The end result was a bulbous seed covered in a milk cream, with the stench comparable, (to the uninitiated), is best described as pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock. I am talking of course, about the durian, the king of fruits. Some election that must have been. What fruit could stand up to a thorny green ball that weighs kilos?

I am not exaggerating about the smell. It has been said, if the locals were eating the durians at Malacca Port instead of in the comfort of their homes, our country might never have been conquered.

The durian is so well known in our part of the world that, if ASEAN were to adopt an EU style single currency, I would strongly recommend the new coinage to be named "the Duriano".

Speaking about ASEAN, why don't we adopt an EU style single currency? I mean, our economies are linked through the free-trade agreements, we all, (I hope), strive for peace and stability in our region, and we all eat durians. What more excuses does one need? Most of the world's monies are made in factories in the United States. Why not combine the 10 types of coinage into one single currency we can all use? Isn't it very irritating that everytime we drive to our neighbouring countries for a spot of shopping, we need to convert our money to the currency of that country? Sure would be annoying for those living in Johore and Perlis.

Perhaps one day. Maybe when I am king.

An "Ah Beng" Story

The stock market was not good for Ah Beng that day,
Thousands of ringgit, all but flushed away.
Transmile Inc faltered, oil lost its glow,
A plague had fallen, on his stock portfolio.

In times of recession, companies often fail,
Those who cheat the system, often winding up in jail.
"BAM!" Goes an explosion. Sound is heard in heaven,
The news tomorrow: Another company, Chapter 11.

Indeed the reports, they are worrying,
KLSE rising without stopping!
Rising, rising, kept on mounting,
Cashflow? Earnings? Hey, who is counting?

Uncles and aunties taking loans to buy more stock,
Who knows if the companies were built on solid rock?
Electronic companies might fail, shipping might sink,
Didn’t anyone tell these new investors to just stop and think?

They read the newspapers; people making loads on the stock market,
“Let’s buy stock too! What about GreenPacket?”
Petronas and Genting, pillars of strength and stability,
Stock price been rising through the roof since January!

Buying and selling stock like there’s no tomorrow!
No more money? Why not borrow?
“KLSE!" shouted the media, “Is the way to fame!”
“Not for me,” said Ah Beng, “To simple and too tame.”

And so, yes, YTL and IOI, he did ignore,
Looking for a small company, through all that blood and gore.
And Sunway City Bhd, he did make walk the plank,
Despite stock returns of more than 200%!

"What about the second board?" they asked,
"It seems to give value, quick and fast."
"No no no. Not for me,"
"Slow returns since 93."

"How about commodities trading?"
"We all know where copper is heading."
"Up up up! Without stopping!"
"No no no. No goods shopping."

"I know what I'll do! I'll short sell!"
"The fastest way to riches, I can tell."
"Thats the answer I concoct."
Quote the broker, "Short some stock."

It didn't quite work out. His investments failed.
"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Ah Beng wailed.
He short bad stock, doing it twice.
How did he choose them? Rolled the dice!

Somewhere out there, the sun is shining,
Weather is fine, kids are playing.
People are laughing, future not in doubt,
But not Ah Beng. His stock struck out.

My Class

There are KL-ites, and foreigners in the mix,
Homework and assignments galore, all on BlackBoard6
Teenagers in their seats, feet flat on the floor,
They all fell silent, as the lecturer walked through the door.

He had on a pair of slacks, and a red bowtie,
That and a brown sports coat, with the aircon on high.
Carrying with him his books, marker pens in his pocket,
Sitting down, plugging his laptop into the socket.

Turn to page thirty-seven, he did loudly cry,
His laptop whirring, with a twinkle in his eye.
We flipped the pages quickly, till the page we did meet,
Wow! Macroeconomic Theories! Oh! How neat!

To the whiteboard he did jump, red ink pen in hand,
“Copy what I say, for I am the best in the land!”
He started writing and with haste, we did copy,
From eyes to paper, from laptop to floppy.

Moving on to the supply and demand curve,
A topic we the students less then love.
"Public good is better then merit good,"
Shouting louder then the poor man should.

He lept onto the table and beat his breast,
"This are the theories that add to life its zest!"
"Go on home," he said. "Do your research,"
"Do not be stupid. Prone to thrust and lurch."

"Bring me your assignments, don't be lazy!"
Quote the students, "That's just crazy!"
"Do not complain! This is not acceptable!"
"Study hard, this knowledge is applicable."

We did not falter, we children in blue jeans,
Some of us copy blindly, not knowing what it means.
‘Anticipated and Unanticipated Inflation’,
And the other economic blights that could cripple a nation.

He left, beaming away like Captain Kirk,
Leaving behind a stack of today's homework.
Oh how they work! They toil, they strive!
These are the students from my class of PB5.

In Limbo

At McDonalds, people come and go. Groups are sitting together, in discussion. Someone is smoking outside. It all doesn’t matter; your date has not arrived.

I sit there desperately watching the streets, wondering why is she late. “I can’t understand it! I thought it was all planned days ago!” I plead, at no one in particular. You hear whispers, “She’s not coming/Look at him, no wonder he’s alone”.

Desperate, I call her home. “She just left,” says her mom, adding to the long list of possible locations my date might be. “She’s on the way/ She’s crossing the parking lot/ She’s on the bus”. All I have heard before, none of which brings me any solace, for that means she is There, as opposed to what we in college call, Here.

I wait some more. I sent her an SMS. A phone call would just be viewed as desperation at this time. No response. Lines of communication are silent. She is still Not Here.

I try to look for familiar faces in the restaurant, someone I could wait with so people won’t think I have been stood up. I find none. Inevitably, one must come to accept that she might just not be coming, and just leave. But then you would have just seemed to prove the mean-spirited people right. “Ken has no friends”. I could almost hear their thoughts.

Disappointment is not an emotion that can be felt for a long time. Soon that sense of disappointment turns into outright anger, culminating into a sort of semi-murderous rage, the kind that is felt by people when they realized their stock broker didn’t do a single unethical thing for you.

Then out of the blue, she taps me on my shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. My mom would not let me leave until I cleaned my room. Sorry.”

“Sorry” Good word. “Hey! Its all okay,” I say, my anger draining from my shoes to the ground. “It’s all under control. Can I buy you a drink?”

Stress Test

As my blog so helpfully pointed out the other day, I am a college student. As college students, we are under a lot of stress, especially those smart enough to merit a scholarship, (not me). For fun, I devised a simple test to know how stressed out you are. Why not take the test, add up the points, and post me a comment informing me how you did. Here goes nothing.

In the mornings when you wake up, do you;

1. Jump out of bed full of energy, run to the bathroom mirror and shout, "Damn! You look good!"
2. Set your alarm on snooze, hitting it every 5 minutes for the next hour or so, wishing it was Saturday.
3. Throw your alarm clock out the window, only getting out of bed after your dad threatens to enrol you in extra classes, claiming you need it.
4. Slowly levitate of the bed, a cloud carrying you to your door. You open your eyes and smile. You look awake and calm.

What do you usually have for breakfast?

1. Scrambled eggs on toast, sausages, and orange juice with the other members of your family who have to wake up and leave the house at the same time as you.
2. A pre-packed sandwich in your left hand, a cup of lukewarm Milo in your armpit, and your unfinished assignment on your lap.
3. What's breakfast?
4. The fog is your substance and the mist is your drink. You absorb it in your mouth as you exit your house.

Most of your classes are;

1. Right next to one another.You find the time to walk to your classes and spend quality time with that girl from Germany you have been eyeing since orientation day.
2. In different buildings, often in different campuses. As you cross the road, many a times you are almost run over by a dump truck driven by someone who thinks he is a race driver.
3. You are unsure you have classes, and if you do, you haven't the faintest idea where it is.
4. You blink and there you are in that perfect seat each class has, the one not directly in the line of the air conditioning, in the middle of a group of your friends, in an inconspicuous place where the teacher would not look to for answers to the questions on the board.

You see your friends;

1. Everyday before entering class. You discuss sports, the other students of opposite gender, and the squat toilets. They help you catch up on your missed work, and your assignments.
2. Once a week, usually on weekends or at work, while you are scrubbing dishes.
3. Everyday. You meet at the cyber cafe and try to beat each other's high score at various alien-killing games. You know you can rely on them if you ever get into trouble, maybe.
4. Whenever you close your eyes. They are there when you want them to be, gone when you don't want them around. They look up to you as their inspiration and you in turn are nice to them.

Your teachers;

1. Are fantastic! Especially that young math professor. Everyone else are very helpful, motivated, and talented. You love them!
2. Seem to give you too much homework, and laugh at you when you forget to add the plus/minus sign on your root of a square answer. You dislike them, but you respect them and are in awe of their power.
3. Are all stupid, lazy and very misunderstanding. What do you mean I can't wear a hat in class? Its a free country!
4. They are a blessing.

Your homework;

1. Is just the right amount, at just the right difficulty. It is enough to make you learn something, but not enough to make you bored of the subject.
2. Is just too much! You are sometimes forced to skip dinner just to make sure you finish that assignment on time. You run through 6 pens a week.
3. Is left untouched. After all, isn't it the finals that really matter? Its college! Lets have fun!
4. Usually involves going to art galleries, museums, and going to classical music concerts. You sometimes have written work, but a small group of elves do it for you as you sleep.

Okay. Count up your score. Award yourself 2 points for every A answer, 5 points for every B answer, 10 points for every C answer, and 30 points for every 4 answer.

If you score above 90, seek help. Fast!

For those who scored above 40, I pity you. You are so misunderstood. For those who scored above 20, you have just the right amount of stress. You are a well balanced person. And for anyone who scored below 20, I have just one question for you;

Are you a kindergartner?

I Miss You!

Hi. My name is wongkenming.blogspot.com. You probably know me, I'm the one you see every time you read this page. I'm the one you are reading now. Haha. I'm a nice enough guy, with many interests, most superficial. Who cares? I don't usually surf the Interweb. I enjoy chatting. I receive mail and comments, and sometimes answer them. I admit, I'm not as cool as others. I don't have nice pictures to show you, nor music to listen to while you read. I haven't really put much effort into myself. I don't understand HTML. Call me dumb, but when it comes to blogs, I am as good as any and no worse then most. I don't deserve what has happened to me.

HELP! LET ME OUT!

Sorry. I promised myself I would not get emotional. The thing is, my owner, Ken has been neglecting me more and more recently. Although he says its because of the heavy workload at college, I'd wish we would spend more time together, just like the old days. I have been very patient with him, not asking for nice pictures, or music, or links to my friends. After some insistence, he did add a chatbox, so now my friends can leave me messages when I'm asleep maybe. But don't I deserve it?

It was so different when he created me in January. It was easy then. I guess it was thanks to my friend, huiwen7.blogspot.com that I met the guy who would eventually use me as a device for sharing his silly, sometimes downright moronic ideas. We used to meet everyday, and we would discuss matters like life itself. Well, he did do most of the talking, but he is an interesting enough person to listen to.

Where was I? Oh yes. Then Ken joined, and I was born. I sorta don't like the length of my name, but then again, who chooses their name, huh? At the beginning we had a lot of fun. Blog hopping was cool, the modem was nice and warm, and I got a lot of attention from everyone. But then Ken became more interested in reading other people's blogs rather then write for his own. Blogs like http://in-a-capsule.blogspot.com/, and monkeyswithtartarsause.blogspot.com. To hell with that! They have every right to be there.

Its sort of sad, really. We belong together. there are comments I am keeping in the fridge, ready to be made warm and tasty for him. And yet, we barely meet.

On the bright side, he does not let me quit. Even after what seems to be decades of loneliness, he still will not delete me, nor any of his previous entries. In some weird and possibly cosmic way, we are still together. I do daydream about the good times we shared while I rot away here in cyberspace hell.

Save your pity, for there are thousands more like me. Just like my old friend, vinceakadante.blogspot.com. Pity those who are lured with its free and easy sign-up. There is still space for them here, but what about when the infrastructure on this website reaches a limit? It will be too cramped in here, in addition to my being alone.

Please Ken! Come back!

Working Out

Well, I finally went to the gym today. I seen all of the brochures, seen the advertisements, and watched the movies so I think I know everything. Undoubtedly, someone like me will get disappointed. The first disappointment comes when you find out there is only one personal trainer. The second hits you when you realise its a guy.

Well, today we took it easy. just some light jogging. I requested we take it easy because, god help me, there will be nothing to stop me from walking out if the going gets tough. Or moderately challenging. Or slightly irritating. Lets put it this way. If there is an irritating fly buzzing around the TV screen, I'm gone. All said and done, I rather be sitting then standing.

At the gym you see different people. While most people are truly fit, (I hate you guys), there are some who are there bullshitting themselves that they are getting thinner, when just after working out, they go for a nasi dagang with the works.

What is bullshit? Bullshit is something that is not true, but you wish is true. that said, bullshit is hope. Hopefully I will talk more about this in future posts, and that's no bullshit.

But what about those who are genuinely fit? Those with more muscles then actually needed? what are they doing there? Making me look bad, that's what they are doing. seriously, one you have that muscle that runs from behind your ear to the bottom of your neck, you're done. What are you still doing here? Why not go enjoy a steak or something.

Still, I am going back tomorrow, to start the training for real. Who would have guessed that I would be actually exercising!

God help me.

Bus Ride of Hell

Wow. Its been 3 weeks since I last posted anything. Many things have happened to me this week. My flight touched down on Sunday, went to college for the first time on Monday, sat on a bus for the first time on Wednesday, missed the bus on Thursday.

Speaking of the bus ride, did I mention it was my first time ever? For someone accustomed to being driven everywhere, 4 star-hotels, and business class lounges, taking public transportation can be a very daunting task. so I got on this steel coffin with wheels. We had to switch buses twice, one driver passing us on to another. I felt more passed on then a syringe in a drug addict's conference.

The worse part was when the bus driver decided to drag race another bus. As I said, I never rode in a bus before, but this struck me as slightly unorthodox. the bus did 0 to 60 in a mere 11 seconds. should I be proud that my bus won?

I could view this bus ride as an adventure. After all, I am all for positive thinking. The joy of travelling to places unknown, meeting new people, all in something I have never been in. But, just like I could get a vasectomy, I am not going to. As far as I am concerned, there is no worse way of travelling then on a bus. I sympathise with those who use this barbaric form of transportation.

Because I am now one of you. Oh how the mighty have fallen!