Ping Piang

cid:32FBAD31-E96A-4CC7-A210-859A148599BD/photo.JPG

This dog is named Ping Piang (that’s his temporary name).

On those who we choose to work with or against

The people who we choose to be with or avoid like lepers hinges entirely on our attitudes. Usually it depends entirely on whether we wish to seek out differences or similarities.

I realize many people may say there’s more to it. But when you strip down everything to the chassis, that is really all there is to it.

The funny things is, when one searches hard enough for differences along with reasons (real or imagined) to despise someone…guess what? Viola, you will ALWAYS find enough reason to fuel that idea whether all by yourself or in a support group, ‘he is so different from us…’ or ‘we have absolutely nothing in common with each other.’

The same calculus applies for seeking out similarities and what is common in people.

Search hard enough for what is common and don’t be surprised if you find that those who you once consider unlovable are really not so different from you and you may have more in common with them.

————————————————————————–

‘The tiny Singaporean community that I regularly touch base with every week in the Bak Kut Teh shop is divided into two main groups – the first believe the sun shines out of the asshole of the PAP and they are the best thing since the invention of Viagra and sliced bread…this group considers to insist PAP is the very definition of salvation.

Another group see the PAP as some bone crushing machine that is hell bent on destroying their quality of life. They are not happy and continue to nurse the idea, the PAP is the main reason why so many PMET’s are reduced to driving taxi’s and guarding condo’s back home in Singapore.

Then there is a third group that swing from one side to another and there is nothing much to be said for them except perhaps to describe their attitude as very similar to a type of weed called lalang that shifts to the prevailing winds.

Every time we met these three groups will fight it out and at times it can get so heated that the proprietor of the Bak Kut Teh shop even takes me to onside and ask, ‘what is wrong with you people are you all crazy…why can’t you just eat quietly without making so much noise?’ When there is a stalemate everyone will turn to me….today when it happened again…I kicked a ball….another person kicked back and soon a friendly Sunday game of football ensued in an open clearing at the back of the shop.

In a short while others began to join in. Then as soon as it started a mini league had developed – Singapore versus Malaysia.

For that brief moment, we were all so united….gone were the divisions of you with or against me…no right or wrong way…for as long as the ball continued to be kicked around, it seemed as if all our differences could never be so great as the sum of all that continues to divide us – I took off my bush jacket and refereed the game…it seemed the right thing to do.

Through it all, I couldn’t help but feel when we are all like this, we can do anything…nothing is impossible….everything is possible.’

2 Balaku on 2 monkeys pretending to be 2 dogs

One of them goes by the name of Turbo. As he always tries to runaway. So a brightly colored plastic oil container was tied to him like a buoy, that way whenever he tried to run away. He could never go too far as he was always easy to spot or made so much noise. One day when he ran away again and no one knew what his name was, one of the farmhands called him Turbo…after the oil container.

The other is called Big Foot. As his paws are larger than other pups and when he fights, he never ever uses his fangs and much prefers to use his oversized paws.

Both of these monkeys can make as much noise a ten locomotives. It is non stop 24/7.

Both of them have balaku’s…

Learning to retire regularly in life

You don’t need to be old to enjoy retirement. You could just as well enjoy a moment of retirement even when you’re in your nubile twenties. As retirement to me simply means stilling your mind….enjoying a quiet moment all by yourself….it’s my way of coping with the frenetic pace of the world.

Will it rain in the next few days? Will the dry spell last the whole year and reduce the fields into a smothering cinder? Could it even be this presages the coming of the end of the world as we know it?

Who cares? The great thing about enjoying a moment of retirement is you NEVER ever need to worry about the past or future….all you have to do is enjoy the NOW….to be so invested in the present that you’re like that unflappable calmness in the eye of a raging storm….nothing can ever touch you when you’re calm as you are comfortable nothing is impossible…including stopping time.

————————————————————————-

‘The greatest gift you can bestow on someone who you care for is to give him or her a state of calmness.

As calmness is the skeleton key that opens the door to the secret garden where one can rest and set aside the worries of the world – and be a beautiful person.

That I imagine may be why even the damned are served a last meal of their choice just before they’re marched to the firing squad – as after a warm satisfying meal, I reckon a man is calmest and he can really face anything including the prospects of death…without too much fuss.

As when one is calm…one has elected to retire from the hustle and bustle of the world…to just be in the present…to enjoy the moment….so me it’s always a blessing to find someone who can always put you in a calm state…to me if a woman happens to be beautiful but she’s radiating so much anxiety and nervous energy, then in my book she can’t be that desirable, not at all.

I happen to know a lot of women like that and usually I just tell them I am married to twenty wifes and have two hundred and fifty kids….if that doesnt work, I just tell them that I have all the STD in the world..usually after that they runaway and I am so happy that evil has left me…as to me being in a calm state is something that I have always considered to be very rare and valuable…as I don’t get many opportunities to be a very beautiful person often…..and I happen to believe very strongly it’s very important for one to believe – you’re still capable of being a beautiful and good person from time to time. It’s like a woman knowing she can still turn heads when she is in her late forties or fifties, it’s something that can only add and never subtract from the whole idea of womanhood…so it’s nourishing to the marrow of her bones and its intensely edifying to every cell in her body.

As when you no longer believe you can be beautiful – then to me it just means there will always be endlessly shouting in your life…and that is really when calmness gives way to anxieties, stress and opens up so many diseases to ravage you… if that happens then it could be said the world has already taken away something very valuable and precious from you….and that thing is none other than the person who you were always meant to be….a beautiful person who everyone wants to be with….someone calm….like a lotus set on a mirror lake…that has to be very beautiful to me.

People who do not know this always live in the shadow of anger, resentment and hate….they always have an axe to grind….nothing is ever right….and they always believe, they have given more than they have ever received…usually they all die without the person who should love them most by their side….as since they have once in their life seen the wisdom of cultivating calmness…they can only bring out the worst in themselves and others.’

Life is too short to build walls around yourself

I don’t think it’s easy for anyone to get close to me. Not at all. As I stay in a house on a hill smack in the middle of literally nowhere – the roads leading up to the house is bobby trapped. These traps are changed twice every day. There is razor wire on the outer parameter fence and in the inner fencing it’s guarded by six Doberman guard dogs. Even if an intruder can somehow manage to subdue the dogs and manage to break into the house, there is a house within a house. Every door in this other house is reinforced with concrete and plated two inch ductile steel designed to annul even an explosive attack – and added to all that there is an array of security measures that is designed to funnel a would be intruder into a kill zone to blunt their numerical superiority.

It’s impossible…..even if they’re armed to the teeth…the body count would be so high that it will just be incredibly demoralising to sustain the resolve or discipline.

As far as my movements are concerned. There is no discernible pattern to speak of. It’s random. I never ever take the same route twice and there are plenty of decoys – even if I happen to get ambushed, there is at least four to five escape routes that can usually take to funnel a car tailing me into a kill zone.

When I do go out. I am always half a hour early to check out the place to make sure it’s safe. I never walk into a building without a floor plan. I often enter a building thru the service entrance and have at least two escape plans. I sit only with my back against the wall and only eat and drink in places where I have a relationship with the proprietor.

On the rare occasions when I do met people. I am always guarded. I much prefer to ask questions and listen than to talk….I never reveal anything about my personal life. I am always asking myself – is this person a threat? If this is answered in the affirmative, then the next logical security measure kicks in automatically – how can I neutralise the threat?

In conversations. I never commit myself to anything. I show no emotion and it’s hard if not impossible for anyone to use flattery or appeal to my greed to lead me down a trap. As I never believe what people have to say, unless it has been collaborated by at least two independent sources and it’s impossible for them to ever fathom my thoughts….at times, I sow disinformation to mislead my enemies….At other times deception is deployed to drain their resources or stress their resolve that it becomes prohibitively expensive and demoralising to spy on me.

In business I am well known to be a man of my word….my word is as good as a promissory note from the bank of England. It is not uncommon for me to transact deals running into six figures in a jungle clearing with either a curt nod or a handshake. Everyone who has dealt with me can testify to this.

However, I am also a man who has a reputation of being particularly ruthless to those who try to take advantage, betray or mislead me to gain a pecuniary advantage. Usually I make an example out of them so that the others realise, this fellow is just too troublesome…he isn’t worth the trouble.

As I grow older, my life becomes increasingly reclusive and I find myself leading a hermetically sealed existence where I much prefer the company of animals to human beings. I relate well to animals. They like me…. as far as the eye can see….there is no else….except me.

I have often wonder to myself, how did my life become this way.

————————————————————————-

‘It is very easy for all of us to build walls around ourselves. In some cases life could possibly be unbearable if we didn’t have these walls to shield us from the vagaries of life…that at least is how I see it.

Only my feel is even if we feel comfortable and at ease within the confines of these seemingly secured walls that we have managed to fashion with the power of our minds. Living a walled exsitence has to be at best an acquired taste…that is to say, it is conceivable we are not so different from one of those prisoners who was once sent to prison. At first the corseted confines of a twelve by nine cell with just a tiny barred window may appear intimidating….stifling…oppressive….but the strange thing about life is things can change with just a perceptive shift. As give this prisoner enough time and what will eventually happen is he may even find those bricks that once riled him lovable….endearing….that life cannot possibly go on without them – that’s to say, this man has grown so accustomed of those bricks that it has permeated his existence and being to such an extent – it’s even conceivable this man may not be able to continue living, should the dimensions of his cell be enlarged or appointed with more comfortable features….this could perhaps explain why some inmates when they are let out after serving their term of imprisonment…either commit suicide or hold up petrol stations just to get themselves back into prison….they all yearn to return back to that womb of consciousness…they all cannot live without their walls.

That I feel is the ultimate irony of life, that man has in him the ability to fashion heaven or hell out of his life….but my feel is if the goal is to live a purpose driven life – then we cannot just build walls subconsciously. As when you take the trouble to look around, we do this all the time without even consciously being aware of it – a group of people sit around, they speak of another person in terms of, ‘he’s so different from us’ ‘our character is so different’ ‘we have nothing in common’ – the way I see it, all these people are really doing is erecting walls and soon that person who was once part of their lives is estranged….a stranger…and what you really have is two lives that should be intertwined separated by the divide of space and time across a no man’s land….that I feel is the tragedy of leading an unexamined life….that I feel is something that I need to remind myself of daily….not to live a walled existence….to always make a conscious effort to connect and stay connected…either that or the walls will just close right in and blot out the sun…leaving only darkness.’

Midnight rain – lessons from going thru the storms in your life

Rained briefly last night. It’s not a biggy, just a small one. But it’s good enough….as I have fertilised my trees specifically for exactly this sort of mini skirt rain this year.

So now I just need it to rain a couple more times like this…. don’t need epic rains….just the variety that fell last night will do very nicely…already made all the necessary calculations…all that needs to be done has been done…now all I have to do is wait patiently so everything to fit right in – if I can just get a little bit more rain like last night again. I reckon, it will be a very good harvest this year…yes, it will flow sweet and clear.

I remain hopeful….yes she’s still kicking up a fuss and throwing pots and pans at me. Mothernature that is. But I reckon, I can still dodge and recover from many of my mistakes that I’ve made it the beginning of the year and rush up her skirt to grab me a piece of heaven…We will win!

———————————————————————-

“Sometimes I feel as if I am in a tiny boat smack in the middle of a perfect storm. You know the sort where every wave curls up like a giant fist and slams right into you lifting you up in the air momentarily.

The sort of epic storms where you don’t even know whether you can ride out to see the others side. As it heaves and swells blotting out every path to just siam…cutting off every route of your escape…the sort of storm that makes you kick yourself as you wonder why didn’t you just stay at home…or curse :this just isn’t fucking worth it!

I know people think I am brave…As I’ve climbed so many mountains and sailed to the edge of the world. You know to stand in a place where all time stops as you wonder to yourself – are you the first man to stand here.

Most of the time, I tell these people who hero worship my exploits – I am shit scared. Most of the time, they just think I am a really humble guy who much prefers to water down his exploits…that’s the funny thing about people…usually they prefer to see what they want to see and there is no way to tell them otherwise…as they have already made most of it up in their heads already.

But that’s the truth. I am shit scared most of the time when I am right in the thick of it. So scared when I am up there all by myself. I shit bricks. There was this time when I was up on a rickety scaffolding high above KL doing some work on a sign board…someone said I did it as I was a famous climber who just wanted to show off that I could fly like a bird in Bukit Bintang. But I just did it as I needed the money real bad and it paid very very well…as the owner of the building couldnt find anyone dumb enough to take up the job. So one day I bought some climbing rope in camper corners in City Hall, geared up and up I went. All by myself high above the clouds with just barely two inches of footing and I was always shit scared….scared that I wasn’t good enough to make it to very end…scared of falling….scared that I had chewed off more than I can handle…scared perpetually.

I went up every single day….was shit scared that every minute sliced my insides up like a knife…and one day just as it begun the job was finished. A job that maybe only less than hundred climbers in the whole world could have pulled off. As it was considered unclimbable….but I did it.

There was no ticker tape parade…no fanfare…I didn’t speak to anyone about it – I was just marooned in my head… that’s the way it usually is for me. I am not the sort who likes to publicise my exploits. Only a few photos exist of it in wayang party I reckon…as I remember Harphoon wrote about it.

But that’s the way it always is…after a climb or just after taking on something really scary. As only you know how hard it is to get all of yourself together swallow your fear and just put one feet in front of another..only you know…other people can only imagine…but most of the time, they don’t do a very good job I reckon…because if they did, they probably know that I was shit scared all the time and skip the hero worship part. I can tell..it’s a vampire thing…they don’t know what’s like to face death. I know they’ve never ever gone there before, so I never explain and just keep it all to myself like one of those guys who speaks a dead language no one else understands.

I remember celebrating in McDonalds over a big Mac and some cheap whisky…that’s my way marking that milestone in my life…I remember, my hands were still trembling…but I was happy it was over. No sorry…I was relieved. It was then that I began to wonder to myself – what do you have to show for all this? Is it even worth it? Or maybe it’s just like pouring water into a tin can with a hole…

That’s the funny thing about making it to the otherside successfully when you decide to take on something that most people will just run away from. You don’t ever know what you’ve gained from it. Not at that moment in time…I know some people say they derive an intense sense of satisfaction from it all or they see it in terms of an epic baptism of fire yada yada yada and they hear trumpets and angels start flying around them to reveal the mysteries of this world and it does wonders for their confidence that they can even write motivation books about their experiences…but my point is, it’s never like that for me. Never.

For me. I just feel incredibly relieved it’s over and my hands…they’re always trembling…sometimes I cry for no reason….and I never ever know what I’ve gained from it…never…that’s just me. I am a bit slow, I reckon.

But life is an incredibly funny thing…as many years could even go right by and you may not even remember the name of that mountain or sea that you once took on and won…so there you are in the present thinking that it’s all cut and dried….it’s all behind you.

Then something big and menacing stands right before you again…something scary…you narrow your eyes…flare your nostrils….as this thing unfurls it’s terror before you…it’s so big and it’s making a giant fist again…then it all clicks into place, like a satisfying Lego piece finding another…click!…a moment of epiphany and you realise then and there… that mountain or sea that you once took on so many years ago did change you after all…You know because when this really big scary thing that can smash your life into a thousand pieces is kicking it’s hoofs and panting….you’re still looking at it and have not run yet and asking yourself……how can I kill it dead? Yes, you’re still shitting bricks….but my point is you’re still there facing the sum of all your fears…sure you’re shit scared….but you have not run off…..as you’ve decided to fight and kill it dead!

So you step right inside that mythical storm, go right through it even though it feels as if you’re breathing in needles and every moment you’re dying tiny slices of death…. You’re still scared, but it’s like a street fight….your hands move purposefully…you’re scared…but you’re calm and controlled and deadly as well…you know exactly where to hit and how much force to use to snap a bone, cut an artery, you’re like a well oiled machine…but you’re still shit scared… no fumbling, no hesitation….you just in the swirl of the moment as if you’re standing there all again….in the eye of the storm as all hell breaks loose all around you like that time so many years ago.

And the next thing you know….you have made it through that symbolic storm. It’s over.

The funny thing is once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through….it’s just exactly like the day after you once took on the many mountains and seas that you once decided to take on….your hands are trembling….you still have that residue effect of fear….and you’re back in McDonalds downing cheap whisky and you’re asking yourself – was that really worth it? But one thing is certain…..

When step right out of that metaphorical storm, you will NEVER be the same person who walked in. You’re changed…and that’s really my point…you have changed.

Whether it’s for the better or worse…I can’t say, but you have changed.

As you’ve gone thru stuff that most men never ever get to go thru…they may have seen it in the movies or read about it. But since you’ve lived the before, during and after…you will always be very different from all those other men.

That’s how I see it when a man decides to take on something so big that it can just crush him like an ant….. he becomes a very different man.’

The art of shifting gears in an age of uncertainty

It’s settled. There will be less of a precious thing this year….it will rain less. I don’t care what the weather bureau or any of the experts have to say….the matter is settled…in my mind at least…. if I am wrong and the heavens pour down… its a bonus…but if I am spot on….I will still have one opportunity to rush up mother nature’s skirt when she’s got her head turned the other way and snatch a bountiful harvest…the only cost is the new methods of fertilisation will require back breaking work. As they are maybe four or five times harder to put into effect than the traditional methods of fertilisation.

Having to accept a lousy situation doesn’t mean a bountiful harvest is out of my grasp this year. Not at all. I just have to throw out the old way of doing things and bring in a method.

To hedge against the prospects of another round of dry spell. I am using a method of fertilisation that is commonly used by the Israelis to grow crops in semi arid terrain. This means all the dosages along with cations will have to be radically changed as I will rely implicitly on morning dew to break down the fertiliser – can this be accomplished in a tropical setting….I don’t see why not. Besides it’s not as if I have a choice….and that is really life….as sometimes all of us have make the best of a lousy situation, especially when we are all confronted with an event that’s bigger than what we can hope to be…..it’s like one of those epic storms where you don’t even know whether you can ride it out to see the otherwise, but you do the best you can and you try everything…that’s all there is to it.

Most farmers are sticking to the old method. The way I see it. If the rains come, they will be well and fine. But if it remains dry, then they’re as good as fucked….truth remains, the kampung economy is wholly dependent on the well being of primary producers and the prospects of another prolonged dry spell is bound to play a preponderant role in modulating the kampung economy. As when there is less or no crop….then the harvesters will take home less pay, the pasar and eateries will begin to thin out and the whole economy runs the risk of grinding to a halt. This cannot be allowed to happen and that is why it’s imperative that primary producers continue to do well.

Lately I have been making it a point to circulate in the local community to get a feel of what people have been buying – this is the equivalent of my intelligence spy ring to keep my ears firmly on the ground to make certain that I nothing takes me by surprise – experience informs me this is usually a very reliable barometer of how the common folk are coping with the dry spell – from the looks of it, everyone seems to be tightening their belts and most don’t see the necessity of making contingency plans – this I can only surmise is a failing common to simple folk. They know no better.

It’s regrettable that I don’t have better relations with the village elders. Many still consider me a reincarnation of Adolf Hitler. And from what I have seen there seems to be a concerted effort to contain or neutralize what they perceive as my ‘imperialistic’ bent – either that or my paranoia is just getting the better of me.

Its regrettable. If I had a working relationship based on mutual respect and dignity with the village elders. I would be able to share many of my modern farming scientific techniques with the many small holders to improve yield despite the drought. As it is, it’s very likely that I will have to broadcast this new methods beneath a tree on a black board kampung style like a travelling Koyok vendor.

Not that I mind. This will be my hidden strategy of undermining the authority of the village elders and I hope to use this dry spell to full advantage by waging a systematic war of the hearts and minds.

War is just a continuation of politics by other means.

We will win!

The cost of having a millionaire public service culture

This afternoon a group of men asked me whether I would be interested to lend my extensive knowledge of oil palm to help Singapore solve the haze problem.

I asked them twice, who did they represent. They were quite evasive and kept on mentioning that was not important….one of them even said to me….is that really important.

I told them….I am so sorry….this conversation is over unless you can all make some arrangement to pay me USD$1,000 per hour. I went back to surfing porn and playing Sudoku on my iPad.

After a while they left.

They all looked so confused as if I was written in an alphabet that none of them could read. I don’t understand….as it is all so precise and clear to me….the way things have to be that is.

(This has been broadcasted through out the strange lands by the Niberium class signal vessel KDD Shalom – Interspacing Mercantile Guild – The Brotherhood Press 2014)

—————————————————————————

“When I made the decision to join politics in 2006, pay was not a key factor. Loss of privacy, public scrutiny on myself and my family and loss of personal time were. The disruption to my career was also an important consideration. I had some ground to believe that my family would not suffer a drastic change in the standard of living even though I experienced a drop in my income. So it is with this recent pay cut. If the balance is tilted further in the future, it will make it harder for any one [sic] considering political office.” Grace Fu.

Being hopeful in the face of uncertainty

I know what everyone thinks. The monsoon rains is finally here. Evil has been vanquished….the serpents head is crushed…the good times are back again..the dry spell is well and truly over.

I don’t believe that’s the case. Not at all – as it has only really rained twice this whole entire month followed by scattered showers. For me at least.

The way I see it. Most of the rains will fall mainly on the southern tip of peninsula this year. So if you’re in Singapore. You’re good to go. But since I am located up North the best we can hope for this year is intermittent showers from now till the end of May i.e Mickey Mouse rain. Thereafter another dry spell will close right in when the winds shift again in early June – this may not mean anything at all to most people. But to farmers it means the real rains will only come somewhere around in September. From now till then, there will be very little of a very precious thing.

But this does not mean a bountiful harvest is out of my grasp. There is a way and I have been experimenting with new fertilisation techniques that the Israelis use to grow Jaffa oranges in the Sinai – if the fucking Jews can grow juicy oranges in the desert don’t tell me the same techniques cannot be adapted to grow oil palm!

Yes, these methods are radical to say the least, where I split the dosage per palm into micro quantities so as that they can be absorbed despite the low rainfall. So instead of broadcasting 3 kg per palm. I will split it into 1 kg and broadcast it over a wider surface area – naturally the farmhands are not happy as it’s three times their normal workload and this is completely alien to them – and since the calculations of required nitrogen, phosphorous, potassium, boron and magnesium are so complicated there is no way I can possibly explain it to most people. Even if I could, no one will believe me.

Everyone thinks I am crazy….but I know deep down in my bones I am on the right track. I just know! They way I see it, let the yield speak for itself. I don’t want to talk too much. Let the yield do all the talking lah!

Let’s see how it goes. I am hopeful.

We will win!

I don’t believe in meritocracy per se. I happen to be one of those who believe this word has been so evacuated of meaning since its regularly embellished to justify all sorts of dehumanizing policies.

The way I see it. If meritocracy has to come at an exorbitant social cost of watching droves of people lose their standard living while they get systematically marginalized on an industrial scale only to end up at the bottom of the heap as either taxi drivers or security guards. Then to me that sort of shitty corseted definition of meritocracy has as much utility as weed killer in a cocktail glass…it’s no good lah! I dowan lah!

The way I see it, if meritocracy is so narrowly defined to exclude so many important things such as the human spirit and whole of idea of dignity and respect – then it’s just an unimaginative and lazy man’s way of making things work really well – as everything is premised on the no brainer calculus i.e either you make the grade or you’re toast, it has to be a clearest form of reductionism.

Like I said, there is zero skill in just FINDING the right fit – any bloody fool can do that. As when the word meritocracy is hijacked, embellished and defined so narrowly that it can only elide so many factors that make up life – then to me it’s just a mindless efficiency theory that doesn’t even question what the social cost may be if all we do is select the best and set aside what we have to work with – it just means meritocracy (in the Singaporean context) can only mean life as we know it will increasingly become binary without us realizing it – you’re either a scholar or a cookie cutter, successful or a failure, switched on or off, team player or dyfunctional, with or against us.

Life is NEVER like that! The way I see it, if things are no good. I will MAKE it good – put in the effort, try harder, try everything and anything and just keep on hammering the shit out of it, till it gets better. That way even if someone or something comes to me as a thing most people will throw away and consider garbage. I can always strip it right down to it’s chassis and rebuild it all over again to be the best that it can be….I’ve done this many times. Taken stuff that someone has thrown away, rebuilt it and make it work better than new! If this can be done with things, like pumps, tractors and farming equipment what more, if it’s alive!

The way I see it, no one needs to be ever left behind. Only people who are bankrupted of all imagination throw away things that can be improved on…to me these are incredibly lazy people.

My vet for example is one of these fucked up people. He keeps insisting Kee Kee is retarded and should be terminated as he doesn’t know how to run and jump like a normal puppy. But what the fuck does he know!

Recently I did some research on the internet and found that horses which had lost their natural instinct to run after recovering from a prolonged limb injury were put into a swimming pool to wake their muscles up – so I have been regularly giving Kee Kee swimming lessons in a home made tank.

Kee Kee doesn’t seem to have any problems threading water with his front paws. The problem is, he doesn’t use his hind legs at all…so I help him along.

I am starting Kee Kee with just a few minutes a day and I plan to slowly increase the duration bit by bit.

Let’s see how it goes…I am hopeful.

We will win!

That to me is how life really is…we are all born with flaws. No one is perfect. And those who tell you they’re the best thing since sliced bread are perfect liars!

Sometimes when things don’t go the way you plan it. You just need to work at it to make it better….instead of just throwing it away or saying to yourself, it’s a big mistake. Above all you need to hold on to the idea: things will get better…..above all you need to cultivate the discipline to go your own way and not to believe them….but to just hold on to that idea….it will get better if you continue to work at it.

I remain hopeful.

On Peace…..

This morning a very well respected elder from a neighboring village invited me for breakfast. When I arrived at the Bak Kut Teh shop and saw a group of businessmen who tried to cheat me on a land deal two months ago was on the same table. I realized I had been ambushed and the respectable elder may have been asked my the elders of my village to broker a peace deal between me and these businessmen.

Throughout breakfast. I made it point to stress to all. I was prepared to forgive and forget all transgressions – to even let the matter slide for the sake of the common good…..for I value peace and harmony above all else.

I even went to the extent of assuring all parties it made absolutely no sense for me to hold grudges that it would be far better if we could all cooperate and work together for the common good – that to forgive is to be free from bondage and suffering…and to be free is to live…somewhere in all this desiderata. I bounced babies on my knees and looked at them lovingly and often saying to these men – ‘how lucky you are future, your will be happy and prosperous….Uncle will consider you his God son…..he will always love and protect you.’

Everyone believed me. Everyone was so happy…..so relieved…..and hopeful. Everyone except me. I felt very sad. As it was all an elaborate lie and I did not believe a single word I said.

God have mercy on my soul.

God have mercy….I lied thru my teeth.

I know one day, I will burn in the hottest place in hell……I will burn.

————————————————————————–

The window of opportunity – fertilising

99.9% of leadership is all about managing opportunities and threats. That means when opportunity presents itself – usually we have to strike decisively – often to accomplish this, we need to do so in a business environment of resource scarcity….it is very rare to for one to have the luxury of optimum men and material.

Yesterday I pushed my farm hands hard. So hard that I am sure many may even come to regard me as some sort of mini Stalin cum Adolf Hitler. But I had no choice. As before one can even fertilise trees – heavy bags of fertilisers must first be placed in strategic high points in a plantation. To exacerbate the already back breaking work load. This year of fertilisation, I have opted for direct and not compound fertilisers. This means the work load is multiplied three to four fold.

Today I made it a special point to go easy on my farm hands. I told them all, yesterday most of the back breaking work had already been done. Thousands of heavy bags of fertilisers have already been heaved up the hill. Now all we need to do is to work our way down. It will be light work.

Had I not pushed them hard yesterday from dawn till sunset and beyond even in the rain – it is doubtful that we would have it so easy today. As last night it rained heavily and the roads would have been too slippery for the lorries to climb all the way to the hill or for the men to carry such heavy loads of their backs.

Everything seems to be going to plan. I am tired, but very happy with the progress.

————————————————————————–

‘There are times when a leader needs to push thru unpopular policies. This is part and parcel of leadership. Any man who does not fully understand this reality, I suspect is not well versed in the art of leadership at all.

As at times, the aperture of opportunity presents itself only for a very brief period and no more. And if one doesn’t strike when the iron is hot. You may not get another chance at all or have to wait for the next opportunity when and if it comes.

That’s life…as I see it…it’s all about managing opportunities usually in an environment of resource scarcity….and this underscores the importance of managing perception.

As a large part of leadership has to do with selling the persona of the leader and what he stands for…it may not be real. But that is hardly the point…as reality is largely a matter of what others choose to regard as real.

For a leader to maintain the discipline necessary for his men to follow him even if from time to time he has to lead them with scorpions and whips without incurring their wrath – he must be seen to be sharing their burden. That is to say he too must sweat blood and tears….he must be on the ground….firmly invested in the common folk.

Fortunately that is not necessary most of the time. As managing the perception of being on the ground is all that is required – all that really needs to be done is to camp out with the men, eat the same food as them and to continue leading a simple and unpretentious life.

This way in the evenings when the men sit around the fire and drink their guiness stout, smoke, crack dirty jokes and chat about football.

They will from time to time turn to look at the solitary camp of their leader who is burning the midnight oil. They will whisper amongst themselves. What a miserable life…his life is just slightly better than a beggar. After all, he eats the same food as us. He even sleeps on hard planks with only a mosquito coil like us. Look at him. All he has is that giant black dog to keep him company, that cannot be much fun as he cannot hug it and go to sleep like a woman….and when our candles dim. The light in his camp still glows thru the dead of night. As he has to crack his head day and night juggling numbers like hand grenades – and after this is finished, while we can all look forward to going home to our wife’s and children and enjoy the warmth that can only come from family – the poor devil can only go back to his huge haunted house on the hill…all by his lonesome….all the time…shouldering all the worries of the world…and he does not even have a woman to keep his bones warm….all he has is that ugly giant black dog.

Soon someone will say…

How miserable it is to own so much land. We are so lucky, we are not like those miserable landowners.

To know how to use the simple way of life as a strategic weapon to manage yourself and others is to be wise beyond your years. As this requires nothing short of perfect self discipline and 100% control over the ego.

True power is NEVER to be found in a man showing off his wealth which can only provoke jealousy and resentment in others. It is to be found in the simple life – where a man who can easily afford to drive a Mercedes rides around in a bicycle.

ALL THE SERIOUS MEN OF THIS WORLD KNOW THIS. Those who do not know this will always inflict pain on others by just living and breathing – as not to know this is to mean many will just call you Liao jiak bee and they will be so jealous of your wealth that they may even hate and resent you.

So study and research this well – as this Dao can be adapted to leading platoons, teams, expeditions, managing change and dealing with relatives who always ask you for money.’

My friends the birds have arrived home!

Last night I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep. I spent the whole night running up and down my bird house to make sure everything was as it should be for the arrival of my friends.

When the morning came my friends arrived.

I am so happy they made it safely across the Straits. Rest my fine feathered friends…fatten up. I will feed you nom nom nom nom

Misery City?

I guess when someone says, you have a compassion deficit – what they really are really trying to say is…..you’re selfish. You only think about yourself and your own welfare, other people don’t matter to you. Not unless they can help you to advanced your goals.

It may also mean you see the world only according to your terms and you consider all other world views just minor details that can be negotiated to fit into your worldview. Since other world views don’t count for very much. They can’t possibly alter the way you ascribe value to the things which you consider worthy. Only your worldview matters. But of course, you do them the courtesy of listening or pretending too.

Above all when someone calls you selfish it simply means they don’t want to have anything whatsoever to do with you.

———————————————————————–

‘I get looked down a lot by city folk. Especially when they see me toiling in the fields with my farm hands, it’s not uncommon for them to turn to their kids and say, ‘if you don’t study hard…you will end up like that man.’

But I don’t take it personally, not at all. I used too. But since I’ve already given the matter a lot of thought – these days I believe city folk hold on to that parochial attitude only because they know absolutely nothing about farming. That’s to say, they are ignorant about the allure of living the farmers life.

And people only know very little or nothing about a thing except what they cobble up in the TV, then it’s hard, if impossible to give that thing the respect it rightly deserves.

You could even say that’s axiomatic of everything in life that one doesn’t really take the trouble to understand from the inside out.

But let’s just conduct a social experiment here and ask ourselves a philosophical question: why do farmers farm, given that it’s such an uncertain existence where everything seems to be placed before the vagaries of nature?

The simple answer is farming since time immemorial has always been one of the few politically correct ways to be selfish and still gainfully employed without being called a troublemaker.

Farmers like to be their own man…their own boss, that’s why their favourite greeting is, ‘you’re on my land’ which is quickly followed by a volley of birdshot followed by ‘don’t ever let me see you here again!’

Farmers especially like to spend their time in the field. Put a farmer in a cubicle in a skyscraper where he has to juggle office politics and perpetual deadlines and he will probably die.

To the farmer his office is the great outdoors where he can always be close to animals – birds aren’t just idolent dots in the skies to farmers. They be like fire exits, elevator music and things that just exist in your pheriphery vision – but to a farmer they are his friends like the trees, they can talk to a farmer. You can’t hear the conversation because you have never stilled your mind and walked for hours on end in the fields. Farmers especially love to live where they work and to work where they live – it’s very rare to come across farmers who has to commute to work, as even if they have to live in the middle of nowherevile and put up with the isolation….they much prefer it to living in pigeon hole in the sky amongst nosey neighbours and the pineapple eyed auntie brigade where you can’t even enjoy the simple joys of life like scratching your guli’s.

Above all, all farmers without a single exception strive to live life under their own terms….they don’t live for other people or regularly do stupid things like city folk do by pretending to be someone they’re not. All farmers only aspire to be their own man. That’s why so many farmers are prepared to go through so much trouble to remain self-employed to live their lives without ever having to put up with a boss breathing down their shoulder micro managing them…Or having to do stupid things like take conference calls in the middle of the night and go to work blurry eyed the next day. You rarely ever see a farmer putting in extra hours like how city folk regularly stay back in the office. Others just stay with farming because they much prefer to call the shots and be their own boss.

And this is the precisely the reason why when city folk spend three or four days in a farm. They never ever want to go back to the city again. Never…don’t believe me just give it a chance…you will never live to regret it. Never! If you do. Drop me a line and I promise to publish your letter of complaint on my blog like Ashton. The real tragedy is no one sees it that way, except maybe the politically correct selfish man whose called the farmer.’

The first monsoon rains

I’ve been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the monsoon rains for weeks. Till now, the rains have been the Mickey Mouse variety. Mostly brought by pot luck winds that blow along the South Westerly direction that originate from China deep within the Gobi desert.

Today the winds suddenly shifted to the North Easterly direction and stayed true for the whole day – soon they brought with it, the first monsoon rains all the way from the Andaman seas stretching all the way back to the Himalayas. These rains are warm and nitrogen rich unlike the chilled South Westerly rains, they can open the floodgates of heaven for hours on end. They bring both blessings and curses. From today onwards it will rain like today.

The question now is how long will these rains last?

It is hard to say, the Brahmins in the village temple of Kali say Uranus is too far out of it’s orbit and it’s creating loads of nervous energy – they continue to insist April will be bone dry. Even the village bomoh who has been offering alms in the form of coconuts to make rain concur with the Brahmins. As for the highland tribesmen, their shaman say the oracle is on the blink this year – that’s tribal code for ‘let’s cover our ass.’

I need to be wise to read this season for what it is and not what others say it is. Last year was a walk in the park. I managed to get 8 out of 10 without even trying. Did it by just following the textbook approach. But I reckon, this year judging from the siaowness of mother nature when the year started is likely to test my mettle as a farmer to renewed heights of hardship.

I need to remain very calm and patient and not rush impulsively into anything….if I play my cards right, I can still reverse many of my mistakes in the beginning of the year and turn a lousy situation into a bountiful harvest.

That’s how life is. It’s NEVER about getting it spot on all the time. The only people I know in the whole world who keep insisting they are infallible and beyond reproach is the PAP. Not that anyone believes them – truth is it’s not always possible to get it ALL right, not unless you’re a reincarnation of Nostradamus – all one can really do in life is strive to get most of it right and as for those aspects of the plan that took a wrong turn, they just need to be worked on to get them to work right….life I am reminded has more do with RECOVERY, than getting it right the first time.

Recovering from an unexpected set back that just hits you on the blind side when everything is just cruising along smoothly…wham! You’re down for the count!

It’s all about your capacity to recover.

Doesn’t matter what it is, bad debts, a lousy business deal, a poisonous relationship, terminal cancer or even if you just stuck in a rut…IT’S REALLY ONLY ABOUT HOW WELL YOU CAN RECOVER FROM THAT SHITTY POSITION….recovering from a bad investment that threatens to wipe you out….recovering from a failure and getting your confidence and courage back again to try one more time….it’s all about how well one can recover and it’s never ever about getting it spot on the first time! Never!

I must be deadly calm and above all patient….above all I must

————————————————————————–

‘Now that the winds have changed suddenly. My friends (the birds) will begin their long and trecherous flight across the Straits from Sumatra. They were not able to do this earlier as the South Westerly was against them – now the winds are with them, they will prepare for their marathon flight across the windswept Straits soon – it is hardly a matter of choice, fires have been raging in the Indonesian archipelago, soon the choking wall of smoke will make a fist and strike the birds one by one from the skies….they will all have to flee.

It is the good that the monsoon has come just about now, it is only two days after the full moon – my friends will have no trouble making their way here with the moon beam lighting up the many river routes from high above. Last night, I put up laterns to guide them safely home….a home to rest and fatten up.’

On gratitude

When we cultivate the good habit of acknowledging the good others have brought into our lives. Then we will not be so quick to judge or anger when they do us wrong from time to time. Our hearts will still be soft. As we remember the goodness they once shared with us to make us who we are.

To know gratitude is to know how to remain grounded and human in a very cruel world.

—————————————————————————

‘Yesterday one of the village elders asked me why I am always sticking my neck out for the ‘foreigners.’ This is how he refers to many of the Singaporeans who have been forced out of Singapore as a result of the lousy economic policy of the PAP. Many have started trading companies, some have ventured into fisheries and farming.

The old man went on to tell me, my attitude was causing unease with many who see the influx of foreigners as a threat to their way of life. I went on to tell the old man, that I once lived, worked and played for over ten years with these ‘foreigners.’ And they are really not so different from us. That may be hard to believe as their leaders are so stingy, wicked and conceited, but as far as the common folk are concerned, they have always been good to me.

To press the point home. I took the old man’s teacup and poured some tea into mine and drank it – the old man understood the language of the old country. He merely said, ‘your waters mix with theirs it seems….your destiny is linked.’

I shared with the old man when I was in Singapore. All of life was still a great mystery to me. So I was fool in the moment of my youth and I took and took and took without ever once thinking of ever giving back. I was just stupid as I thought this is how the world is.

Later on in my life, as I experienced first hand how difficult it is for one to build an enterprise all by oneself without any help – then I began to feel guilty…ashamed. So one day when I came across these ‘foreigners.’ I took it upon myself to repay the debt that I once owed. I went to tell the old man, this is the only way for me to redeem myself. As I have lost contact with the many good people who once helped me in Singapore. I went on to share with him for many of these foreigners, they have sold everything to start an enterprise, so if they fail because someone cheats, harass or maligns them, it will be very sad for their families. As they would probably have to return back to Singapore with zero savings and drive a taxi or guard a condominium.

They have to succeed. Failure is not an option. I know those odds very well first hand. And let us all be honest, there is no law in the kampung, it is really just a cowboy town. The man in the bush jacket is still very much the sheriff, magistrate, Stalin, Oprah Winfrey, Clark Kent, Al Capone, MGR all rolled up into the person who all knows as the keeper of the wheel of life – it has been this way since the days of the British and that will never ever change…..there is no one else…..

I told the old man if I did make every effort to square the accounts when I am still alive. My food will not taste good and I will not be able to sleep soundly. So I must do what I do and to do it without every once complaining….as this the first lesson in the education of a serious man to always make it a point to remember his roots and not to behave like those vapid Americans who just believes everyone walks right out of a knoll without any history at all.

The old man merely said, ‘it seems you have no choice then…’

The worlds biggest mystery – the missing jetliner of Malaysia

This mystery is set to go down the ages and join the hallowed ranks of the search for the lost city of Atlantis. I guess one reason why most of us continue to be riveted by this episode is because – in this day of age of ubiquitous digital pineapple eyed connectivity, it’s inconceivable for anyone to believe that a commercial jetliner with a footprint of a medium sized factory can just go poof! And disappear. Strange isn’t it in an age when spy satellites can even read food labels on a can of beans on a supermarket shelve. This can still happen.

Makes Ripley’s believe it or not look like an appliance instruction manual.

To me I don’t really see how any sane person can just draw the simple conclusion just because the transponder and ACARS was disabled and the plane diverted it necessarily means there had to be either foul play or a hijack – that’s like saying you have to be a geologist just because you live in a cave or something.

Experience informs me, when things get too complicated and nutty, usually Orcam’s razor proves most instructive. Hence I much prefer the simplest and most probable explanation – i warn you all, its dead pan boring and goes something like this. Something catastrophic occurred during the flight. The pilots tried to save the day and that involved disabling the transponder along with other such hardware. But they were simply overwhelmed and keeled over and died. The plane continued to fly like the Mary Celeste on a preprogrammed course till it ran out of fuel and crashed into the sea.

Where I think Malaysia could have saved herself, neighbors and the families of the crew and passengers a whole lot of grief was if only the radar operator on that fateful night had done the job that he was supposed to do and unidentified the unidentified aircraft that was clearly flying away from it’s planned flight route – had this person done his job, maybe someone further up the food chain would have realized it’s hardly normal these days for planes to be flying with their transponders switched off over a sovereign state – that person could have scrambled fighters to establish visual contact with the missing plane when it re-entered Malaysian airspace, then I reckon this search for the proverbial needle in the haystack would all be so unnecessary.

This just goes to show you, even the best systems are really only as good as the weakest link in the chain. In this case those who are responsible for manning multi million dollar systems….its also a classic case of how one person or a group of people can have such a disproportionate effect on the outcome that it even boggles the mind that no fail safes were built into the system to augment this failing – I wonder did the radar operator even realize that fateful night that a rogue plane with it’s call sign switched off was even flying over Malaysian airspace? What if the plane crashed into a crowded stadium in a city?

Why even have a radar in the first place, if it cannot do the job that tax payers have paid for?

————————————————————————

‘All this hijacking theory and landing on a island where the mountain can open up like one of those James Bond movie where the baddie is always stroking a cat as he mulls over world domination is the stuff of movies.

It is fantasy!

As when you assemble the facts chronologically. At the moment the plane strayed from it planned flight route and headed back towards Malaysian airspace with its call sign disabled that one anomaly alone should have been red flagged as a clear and present danger by the radar operators.

From that point onwards all attempts should have been made to establish contact with the flight crew of the rouge airplane. Failing which Malaysian fighters should have been scrambled to intercept and establish visual contact with the rouge plane and to even shadow it or if necessary shoot it down if it threatened to crash in a densely populated area – that’s how sane and competent folk will react when airplanes the size of a factory decides to fly as if it’s their grandfathers skies – that’s why strategic planners buy radars and fighter jets, they’re designed to interdict threats from the air. They’re not meant to entertain crowds during national day. Had all this been done by the book….all this search here and there and everywhere would have been unnecessary….but instead on that fateful night…the rogue plane just flew right over Malaysian airspace unnoticed and into the great unknown.

To me the question is not what happened on the doomed plane. Or even whether any of the pilots regularly hear voices or if there was a fire or any other fantastical theories – there remains only ONE question: how is it possible for a plane the size of a fire station to fly over Malaysian airspace and not be noticed by all the men and material invested?

Who is going to take responsibility for this?’

Stupid people and their stupid reactions to ratings

Stupid people always take negative ratings concerning their performance personally. They will never see constructive criticism as an opportunity to improve or to better themselves.

They will always insist they know best and everyone is either dumb or crazy. That is their nature.

When the plain facts are put before them. Instead of seeking to understand to improve their shortcomings – what stupid people will do instead is get all defensive and try to weasel their way around those ratings as if by doing so they can somehow rubbish those findings and make themselves look better – that’s well and fine providing they don’t cite those same rating agencies to make themselves look favourable as well. But since they do. They come across as even stupidier.

Smart people on the other hand never react personally when their flaws are highlighted. They treat these findings constructively and often seek to understand and set about improving their shortcomings honestly and transparently….that is why smart people can reliably grow from strength to strength. While stupid people can only make empty promises and spend all their time constructing the temples of illusions.

That in a nutshell is the defining difference between stupid and smart people.

So if you mix with stupid people all the time….beware you will also end up as stupid as them one day.

—————————————————————————-

‘Four years ago. When one of my readers asked me, where she should invest her money. I told her to buy into Boeing and Synovus. She asked me why then. I told her that if you’re looking for a grief free long term investment and you want to buy into a real company that manufactures serious things that serious people buy – then this would be a good place to park your money.

Recently this reader asked me whether she should sell all her shares. As she has quadrupled her money. I told her to go ahead and do so and shared with her now that these companies have popped…the stupid people will be going into them….that I told her is the nature of the stupid people, they go in high expecting it to get higher…not realising it’s already a bubble. So I told her to sell and switch to a basket of precious metals and commodities.

Another reader four years ago called me a con man for making the same recommendations. As some of the companies I recommended were risky, such as the Bank of Greece. But in investing I think, it’s always a numbers game. You can’t be right 100%, just maybe right on most things. And that is what I am really good at…I am right on most things most of the time.

So some of the firms I choose may at first look like losers. But that’s the nature of good companies. They’re always only slow and steady. So I told him to remain patient. As I emphasized, I have nothing to gain from you! I don’t even get a commission from you. So this chap invested in the SGX instead. Today when you calculate the sheer amount of time he spent buying and selling, gossiping about shares against his returns gains – he made some….but he also lost some. But one thing is certain, he never ever quadrupled his savings and all he did in my opinion was run here and there and huffed and puffed to end up with so very little after all that effort.

Recently the prudent investor asked me again where should she invest her money this time round. I gave her about three companies I believe will be heading places in the next three to four years.

Again I told her that I am not an investment guru…I am just someone who believes in putting money in real companies that manufacture really useful things that only serious people are prepared to spend money on….so please do your own research….just don’t follow blindly what I recommend.

As for the stupid investor. I never ever replied his e-mail. I just told him, I am so out of touch these days with the US stock market that I really don’t have an opinion worth sharing on the matter. Truth is….I don’t ever want to get involved with stupid people and their stupid ways. As when things go wrong with their lives, they will always blame the shit out of you and if things go well, they will just think you owe them a fucking living.

But the reality is my brain is for myself and whoever I choose to share it with….and I just don’t have time for stupid people….I just don’t…. that’s really how I see it.

It’s the same with land. Stupid people will always sell their lands. Clever people will make the land work and buy up more land. This is axiomatic. You want to know how stupid a man is, all you have to do is divide all the lands that once came his way and he sold off multiplied with the sum of all his regrets. To me there is no cure for this condition. Worst part is when you mix with stupid people. You too will become stupid and take to their stupid ways.

That is why for stupid people, it’s best if they stay faraway from me….the further the better.’

My thoughts when the ‘rainy’ season comes……

I am two minded about it. The weather, that is. I know everyone believes the monsoon has finally come….evil has been beaten back…the serpents head has been crushed.

I don’t want to be a spoiler, so I do my part to blend in. I cheer like the others. Or pretend too. The best I can. But deep down. I know better. You see it’s very simple: the rains may have come, but the winds have yet to change, which means these rain clouds have been brought by South Westerly winds.

But the winds….they will change very soon. They will blow the other way….and when that happens… Will it continue to rain? That is really the question…the only question.

Or will another dry spell play right out again. Truth is I don’t know. No one knows. It’s like the bloody mystery of the missing plane. All one really has to work with is bits and pieces of scraps….nothing solid. So I worry.

Been waiting for the winds to change. Everyday just before the sun dies. I make my way to the edge of my lands and look out into the horizon to the West. I tell myself any time now. The winds will change and my fine feathered friends will make the treacherous flight across the Straits then….many will perish…I fear. The smog killing them slowly. But those who make it will find sanctuary in my bird house…as I have already made preparations for my fine feathered friends. Fly my friends. Fly hard and strong.

Every evening when the sun dies..I scan the horizon for my friends. But they do not come….something is very wrong…so very wrong.

I worry.

Meanwhile the coming of the wet season. If it’s real, compels me to confront the reality of sleeping indoors, yet again. I am not used to living in the confines of walls. Much prefer the openness of the fields – I spend so much time outdoors that it seems I am permeated by it’s mystical spirit. I much prefer it’s ways to the idea of barricading myself in some man made cave.

Only yesterday when I decided to go down to the village for dinner. One of the beer aunties told me I had won an air conditioner in a raffle. She took the winning coupon out from her bra and put it on my table. She looked pleased as if she was preparing to give me a blow job. But I told her that I had no need for such a ridiculous contraption and she could keep it instead.

Truth is…I have always mistrusted the easy and flabby life. I’ve seen too many businessmen corrode slowly away by excesses. Much prefer my military camp bed. I know it’s awkward, but I am so used to sleeping beneath the stars and with the dogs around me. I don’t mind the mosquitoes. Not at all. As for the mosquito coil, I find it’s a ritual that I’ve come to adore just before I turn in. So I am so used to this simple way of life.

Why would I need an air conditioner to change it all?

I just don’t understand.

On the social front. I try my best to get along with people. By this I mean, I make it a point not to disturb others. Or stand out like a sore thumb. For the most part, I just blend right in. Usually into the wall paper, but even then there is enough of me to make others uncomfortable – about three months ago. A group of businessmen tried to cheat me. Now it seems everyone is waiting for the other shoe to fall. They all think…..no…they believe, I am going to exact revenge. They just don’t know when I am going to do it.

So everyone goes around pretending that everything is fine like in a way a cracked mirror in a kopitiam just stays right there while most people learn to live with it….as best they can.

There is fear simply because I am a man who has a reputation…..that can’t be helped. Besides I have no interest in placating their fears. I just want to live my quiet life peacefully. But if I have to make enemies, that is not a problem to me. Not at all. What I can’t seem to understand for the life of me is why even try to take a bite out of me? I mean would you go right up to the cobra or one of my killer guard dogs and try your luck? You have to be stupid. And they’re stupid. Now they fear. But since it’s got absolutely nothing to do with me….let them continue to live in fear.

———————————————————————-

God must exist

Today I came across an accident. I stopped my car to help. I recognised the driver….he was the man who once accused me of a crime that I am innocent of…..he merely said, ‘I am so blessed a good Samaritan has come.’

It was a long time ago, over ten years ago….I don’t think he recognises me……but I am so happy to be able to square the accounts.

—————————————————————————-

‘I once told a woman who complained to me that she was married to a useless man that she too had to be quite a useless person. As since according to her, her man was so useless that he was responsible for her poverty along with her 1,001 diseases. She must have played a part in making him such a useless man. After all, everyone in the village knows that she is married to a useless man. How can they all not know. As when she opens her mouth, it always begins with the words, ‘my useless husband….’ I even told her that if I were married to her, even I, a very purposeful and resourceful man would eventually rust away like a nail abandoned in a mountain of salt and become totally useless. I told her to remove herself from my sight and if she didn’t, I would have no problem her two black eyes.

When I asked this woman, what did you ever do to make your husband great…she just keep quiet, thereafter I told her that is why every man who comes to you will always end up being just a useless man. As you are a bloody fucking useless woman.’

The importance of a daily ritual

Some people start off the day with a quiet moment nursing a cup of coffee. Others by just lying in bed when only the sound of sleep resonates. Then there are those who just do what they do to ready themselves for a day. To these people, it’s not just an act of consuming a beverage, it’s much more than that. A way of truing their thoughts perhaps just before the world wakes up.

A way for lack of a better word, to put one’s entire being into one moment, to set aside all worldly distractions and concerns unreservedly in that one moment….just before the maddening world starts to unfurl.

I reckon people who know this…all know a secret…perhaps they have discovered a way to stop time itself.

———————————————————————-

‘I start the day by loosing a dozen arrows. It doesn’t matter whether I hit the bullseye. That’s really not the point. What’s important is, I am able to hold on to the crumbly idea that when I am pulling the arrow out of the quiver, nocking it to the string, pulling back the bow, lining up for the shot, nothing else exist……there are no thoughts…absolutely nothing. Except me and the target. Then the arrow hisses to that point in my minds eye and it all ends with a thud….that’s when I know the world will rush into my mind like fast flowing water.

To me this is a very apt metaphor of how the world is in relation to man – archery is after all, all about only form. To hold that form. And not to allow sloppiness, distractions or any other thought to take you out of that form. To hold it even when you feel like dropping everything and running – to even hold it when a lion is running towards you at full toss.

Providing you hold on to the form. Then everything else should take care of itself – the arrow will find it’s mark. It will tear right into flesh, bone and cartilage to find the heart and no harm will befall you.

Every bow hunter knows this – the importance of form.

I reckon it is the same when a man faces the world daily. As there are so many things about the world that is designed to stir us up and even provoke us to act, think, behave and respond in a certain way – that you might say is the only way these days when anything or anyone can get our attention – by pressing your hot buttons and making you jump!

But when holds on to the metaphor of the perfect form through out the day – then everything becomes transparent. Nothing can ever stir you up. You will always be calm like a lotus on a mirror lake. And it is this calmness that is power. Not where you were educated or even how much money you have been able to accumulate in your brief life. That is to say this power comes deep within you….and it is for this reason that it is so very powerful.’