Roy Ngerng and Hui Hui should both go to Africa! – A study of false prophets

October 1, 2014

If one is truly serious about bringing about change for the better. Then a good place to begin is by investing in the self. To set about the task of building the skills along with attributes deep in oneself to effect change. This one can do by dedicating oneself to a growing an enterprise. Only then can the power to effect change work it’s way out and begin to influence those around you.

That is why I believe very strongly both Roy and Han Hui Hui should seriously consider going to Africa to discover their fortune, themselves and hopefully their destiny.

To me nothing good can come out from what these two are currently doing. Except perhaps boosting sales of high blood pressure medication. After all, what can a reasonable man expect from this great explosion of nervous energy…what does it really accomplish? The short answer is a big fat nothing….understand this! Zero will always be zero. There is a sobering finality to the architectural form of zero. As try as best as one may to negotiate around zero, it is not so different from a man who finds himself trapped in a hole where the texture of the walls that keeps him in may not differ entirely from that of a slippery shit pot.

My point is nothing can ever or for that matter has ever emerged out of nothing….something can never come out of nothing….it’s virtually axiomatic….a truism of life. And as far as blogging is concerned, it’s just a big fat zero dressed up as something seemingly great and momentous…’s just chimerical. As even if one manages to garner X or Y super duper number of hits – it’s all just amounts to a whole lot of curious people gathered around a dog that has just been run over by a car in the five foot way – to put it another way, it’s not real…..or rather it’s not meant to be real. Neither does it have the agency of power to effect change either.

A far more reliable way to bring about meaningful change is to dedicate yourself to making something out of your life first – this may seem counterintuitive at first, but do bear with me.

This one can do by starting an enterprise. I do not pretend for one moment to believe this is to be easy, but it is precisely because it is difficult and riven with the prospects of crippling failure that one whose serious about bringing about change should do it. Look at it as form of mental conditioning. May not necessarily be in Singapore. Could be in the Ukriane or forgettable part of Africa where one man can just blow off the head of another man and no one would even give a damm….yes, I assure you there are still nooks and crannies in this world where even angels fear to tread….And my only reason for directing your attention to those areas is simply because these places still offer the classical promise of a man to discover his fortune with just the entry cost of a tube of Mentos in his pocket.

Bear in mind it will not be easy. Not at all… and you may even find yourself trudging for years on end with hardly any prospects of improving your lot….but trust me…keep at it long enough and a day will come when it will just come together marvellously and you will come into money.

Money will bring with it influence and once you have truly fashioned yourself as a man of consequence….only then can you bring about meaningful change.

It may take you ten, possibly even twenty years of your life to reach this stage. But the ultimate irony is at the end of your long journey as you stand before these politicians who are all lined up like little chess pieces to begin the process of change… may not wish to change a thing at all.

And all that is left is understanding for a thing for what it really is and not what others say or claim it is….you will understand it, as when you stand there in commanding heights with all your wealth and influence….you would have seen it all…the before…during and after.


‘You have all heard of Alvin right? Let me guess. You all probably admire him for being gutsy. Right? Yes….I understand. Really. I do. After all what is there not to admire in the very idea of the quintessential bad boy. It’s thematic like a hot rod minus the mufflers. Yes, brothers….I can understand the sympatico here. The very idea that these characters can somehow see the world clearer than everyone else around them and they even have that rare mix of integrity and conviction to see it thru to the very end – to dare think the things they think and to dare do the things, they do as for the rest….fuck the world lah!

Saco paco…Saco paco! Hit me with another double bourbon….neat please!

No I will not call him a mad man! I know that’s what some of you here are expecting me to do. After all that what Darkness does right! Nope! I am not going to do just that – as to be perfectly honest with you. I have never been partial to using that language of convenience to pigeon hole people not even when I don’t agree with them – and that’s what it is when a man is labelled mad! It’s just a socially expedient way of saying this is a man that I cannot fathom. Or do not have the imagination or breadth of experience to know!

But I do understand men such as him. I understand better than all you wet behind the ears gits – wish I didn’t. But I do in probably the unusual way a vampire can smell out another in a crowd. That’s just how it is. Chanced across them even in those rarified nooks and crannies of the world where Lonely Planet doesn’t go too. As only tormented souls end up there. Like those mysterious places you’ve only read about where elephants go to die…that mythical empire of bones. Fellowship with them even by breaking bread….sharing a half cigarette…a meal….somewhere in that land where only the forsaken and damned go to seek refuge…No! Correction. That is not right. They must go there….what am I saying…they have too…it’s hardly a matter of choice like the sensation that suddenly overwhelms schools of salmon as they swim frantically to the upper reaches of rivers to rediscover their crèche where they once spawned on gravel beds…’s primal…. A pre-Edenic call of the wild that only some men can hear while they walk around befuddled as they wonder no end while others don’t seem to share their conviction.

Yes….seen them at the foot of mountains in the Himalayas glaring at the summit with eyes narrowed and flared nostrils….like a man obsessed with the singularity of only one thought that gnaws at him like a rat burrowing itself out from his stomach – seen them in the aching desolation of the Russian steppes where a man can walk for weeks on end without even seeing a single human….only to eventually question whether perhaps the world has come to an end and he’s the only one who made it.

This idea of the man who lives under his own terms and is unbeholden to no one but himself I reckon will always be synonymous with valor and heroism. It’s easy to make that perceptive connection – after all it checks off wonderfully with many of our stereotypical notions of the classical hero, someone knows what he wants, someone whose even willing to go the other way…do that other thing…to sail across that sea…..plant that flag on the summit…cross that continent all by himself….to play that heady game, where the agony of defeat and thrill of victory can either propel him like a human canon ball to the stars or to end smashed to bits on some razor shard reef.

I understand. I do. Really I do.

But here comes the kicker! Are you ready? There is nothing valiant nor brave about these pursuits. Nothing….As since they all have the common denominator of a cut of point where one knows where the starting and end line is – just as one cannot climb beyond the summit or sail beyond the equatorial line without ending up where one once begun the journey. All these pursuits we associate with valor, character and singularity of will power all have to come to a terminal end.

The strangest of all paradoxes of the human adventure is true valor and heroism resides in the unlikeliest of places. In the mundaneness of everyday living – somewhere in that never ending gyre of everdayness….repetition…litany – where today seems almost to be repetition of yesterday. Such is the riddle of life that we cease to see it – as here in the seemingly boring…mundane and repetitive is where one needs the highest quality and quantity of heroism and valor to just go on…over here there is never the convenience of a clear cut off point where we can plant a flag at the summit, take a photo and say…we did that and even have the T shirt to prove it….it’s unending…with no Hollywood promise of redemption that it may even end up well or that it would even pan out the way we wish for….and it’s here that terror is sharpened…fear heightened by the very prospects that we may not be good enough….and let ourselves down and those who we love and cherish. Yet the man trudges on the best he can…..To me this is will always be the land of the brave and valiant – the family man who puts in a twelve hour shift seven days a week and another twelve on his off so that his kid can go for enrichment classes and carve a better tomorrow. The entrepreneur who sells his house and puts it all to grow his enterprise because he believes, he was meant for greater things. The farmer who toils his lands to see it ravaged by the wanton caprice of drought and pestilence….only to cry and suck it all in. Muster the courage and say to himself the following morning when he goes out to put in another hard twelve hours in the field, ‘maybe it will be better next season.’ The single mother who dares to hope that her autistic child will one day be able to look her in the eye and say, mama I love you and perseveres to nourish that sliver of hope in an indifferent world.

It is here….here in the land of the everyday…in the unlikeliest of places that is as exciting as ‘watching grass grow’….where you will find the most valiant and heroic men and women who have the highest character, integrity and resolve and never over there in the heady sensational…tittalating…heart stopping….to me, those pretenders will always be nothing. Absolutely nothing…and like I’ve said so many times…something can never come out of nothing. Never!’

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