I can’t read you any more Amos because you have become very boring

May 17, 2015

If you shock people. Sure! It’s given, they will probably prick up their ears and be riveted by what you have to say. But if all you can do is shock them time and again by cunningly playing with the meaning of words and manipulating the feelings of people and it doesn’t really matter how witty or smart you are. At some point. They are just going to tune right out.

Because you are dead boring. That I am afraid is what you are Amos Yee. A very boring, bland and characterless person.


‘Intelligence + Not having a worthwhile purpose in life = Stupidity.

One way to answer this question is why don’t you ask me how the likes of Alvin Tan is going to turn out. Go on! I dare you all!

Let me tell you where Alvin Tan will end up in 10 years time, if he doesn’t wise up mucho pronto to the facts of life – first of all, he’s puih Cheng (cursed fat genes). The only reason why it’s not apparent at this stage in his life is because he’s still in his twenties, so he can load up on overnight pizza and KFC and it doesn’t half show. But once Alvin hits thirty, once he gives in to that bagel craving, poof! Abracadabra! He is transformed into the Michelin man. It’s like that movie transformers!

No George Clooney there lah! So he’s going to be fat. Probably bald as well since he’s also addicted to sex – so he doesn’t know the Tao of preserving his precious bodily fluids. His aqua vitae. Kundalini power yada yada yada. But let’s not go down there for the moment folks, because I don’t want to muck up my futurist excel spreadsheet on how Alvin Tan is going to turn out in capricious journey of life.

He’s also going to be dead poor as well. Might not seem possible as we have always been brainwashed to believe America is a country of infinite possibilities – that at least is how the American dream reads in it’s glossy prologue. But in reality, one’s chances of making it the States can at best be described as chimeric…improbable…as I have always believed the most reliable way to make money is to go to the most fucked up country in the world or continent in this planet. Africa is good! The Ukraine is even better! In those basket cases, there is no law, everyone is pointing guns at everyone. You could just as well declare your backyard as a sovereign state and set up your own private army like a warlord. So he sought asylum in the worst country to actualize making his first million before thirty. The only promise America will supply Alvin is the sugary illusion that everything is possible and nothing is impossible. That’s how it is in America – everything is based on a fait accompli, hence the words on the dollar bill, ‘in god we trust.’

But I digress. So let’s see what Alvin has when he’s his mid thirties. Well he’s fat, bald, poor and added to that no one wants to fuck him. Oh…but he’s got his Facebook account. But even that has to be at best chimerical. And since it’s not real – you can never include it in the accounting of life.

As time goes by Alvin is going to find himself reliving life in his glorious past. That’s how it is when you are fat, ugly, bald, poor and no one wants to fuck you. It’s too painful to live in the present. So one seeks the sanctuary of the past to live in – there you have it. A sad man sitting in bed sitter all by himself wondering to himself how so much of his life managed to slip right out of his fingers like sand.

Freeze that frame! Now every time you read Alvin Tan just hold that image that I have painted about him in your mind and remember my formulation

Intelligence + Not having a worthwhile purpose in life = Stupidity.

Question: where will Amos be when he’s 35?

Well if he doesn’t wise up and continues to believe he has all the answers in life and sees the world clearer than everyone else like a psychopathic HAL 9000 smart Alec super duper computer.

Then at age 35, Amos too will end up like Alvin Tan. No Pulitzer Prizes. No booker prize either. The only discount that I am prepared to cut Amos in his averagely miserable pot noodle life is since he’s already ugly at 16, so at 35, he will just be uglier when he’s busy hacking away at his keyboard in a room where clothes and pizza go to die because he can’t even afford his buy his own alpha male pad. He’s still staying with his mom and pop. The only significant distinguishing feature in his life is that, somewhere around age 35, Amos will experience a rare moment of epiphany – where the awful reality sinks him – the sum total of his entire life thus far amounts to a grand zero and that it’s too late to reverse his fortunes.

That to me is a mathematics of life when it’s juxtaposed against time and opportunity .It’s not true to say that if you screw it up…you can always press the reset button and have three lives to play the game again. In reality from the moment you are born, discounting intelligence, looks and temperament to let’s say 18. You maybe have X number of opportunities to make it to the next level. If you miss it, then you just fall back! But always remember time is proceeding forward. That’s the default. So from 18 to let’s say 25. Y opportunities will appear again. And if one doesn’t commit oneself to doing what needs doing – then by 35, you will be so far behind that it’s almost impossible to catch up.

That’s what Alvin Tan doesn’t realize. He thinks, he’s going to live forever and life is just going to unfurl every new day like the day before. There’s no factoring of the practical necessities of life like how his cock will grow limp as he ages or how his attractiveness will wane when his looks go away.

Let’s face facts. Like I said, there’s no George Clooney there. And it’s stupid to talk about freedom in every conceivable context convincingly when you can’t even afford to throw your American Express Platinum card on the counter and buy whatever you want without having to spend 3 months munching on pot noodle to make up for that splurge. That’s just a dumb way for any activist to live lah! To me, true freedom first requires financial liberty as a strategic precondition. It’s non negotiable. People say money doesn’t buy happiness! But you notice everyone who likes to quote that aphorism just happens to be dead poor, struggling or getting by. Truth is I don’t expect money to buy me happiness just as I don’t expect my washing machine to give me a hand job. How dat! Because with money comes power, respectability and more importantly the means to fashion the means to live life under your own terms.

Do you all hear a pin drop?

Now let me share with you all how these two monkeys who think they got it so together would have turned out, if only they pressed the pause button somewhere in their head and considered my life equation:

Intelligence + Not having a worthwhile purpose in life = Stupidity.

Let me share with all of you my life theory on how it’s possible how weird folk like Amos Yee and Alvin Tan to cut the cake and still eat it at the same time. But first of all I want to qualify the term weird. I am not using this term derogatorily. As I believe some people are just weird and that’s just how it is in life – they just happen to see the world differently from all other supposedly ‘normal’ and ‘well adjusted’ folk.

In my book there is nothing wrong about being weird. Providing you are not cooking up bombs in your basement to blow up innocent folk. Or engaged in some form of malevolence against people and planet – I say, I am cool with the idea of you being weird!

And let’s all not go thru the pretense of taking comfort in the idea that everyone here in this forum is not weird! We all weird that’s why we awe discussing weird subjects like this! Normal people don’t do this – they don’t need too. They have something like a GUI icon of a bin somewhere in their head and all they have to do is click it and that subject they don’t understand just gets erased from their hard drive. So let’s not pretend we are normal! No one here is normal! We are all one happy Adams family comprising of very weird individuals…including moir!

But what I resent most about the likes of Alvin and Amos is they give all weird people a bad rep. That’s to say these kamikaze practitioners don’t know how to be weird thoughtfully…considerately….without triggering heart attacks, fainting spells and spiking high blood pressure. They don’t know that being weird is an art like dressage or Iado, where form follows function to allow one to mimick every aspect of normalcy. In effect, by doing what they do, they are spoiling the market. And if these people keep this up. We might all end up in some concentration camp in Ubin island one day, because society is so fed up with weird people spooking them all they time. They just have to exterminate us like rodents.

Like I said, if you want to be weird or even change the government. Then go and start an enterprise. Put all your heart, soul and intelligence there. Build that enterprise up. Be bigger than Cargill, Boeing Aeroplane Group and Goldman Sachs combined. Because that is nothing short of the membership criteria to the weirdo club. If all you have is two tic-tacs in your pocket along with a train season pass and you want to be weird. Then I say, it’s never going to come around – you are never going to break free from the cacophony of the multitudes who will just dismiss you as a nutcase and though you may believe, you’ve have a fan club. All you have is the illusion that you’re living out your dreams.

Everyone who has ever led a closeted weird existence already knows this life formulation that I have shared here.

Howard Hughes was weirdorama par excellence. Definitely as close to the gold standard that you will ever get of a dysfunctional man who was able to live his life under his own terms.

Have you ever asked yourself why he put his life on the line so many times by personally test piloting his experimental flying inventions in his youth – this weirdo was trying to get his membership pass into the weirdo club pronto. He was not interested in diffusing his energy, focus or commitment. Because like I said earlier, financial liberty is the first way point. And once he got in – he singlehandedly defined the idea of weirdness into the alternative genre of mainstream lifestyle.

Same goes for George Soros. He’s another weirdo masquerading as a perfectly well adjusted and reasonable businessman. Till you sit down with him for coffee and you realize that you’re talking to someone who actually speaks so casually about novus ordo seclorum—a “new order of the ages” in the same breath as if he’s asking you whether you want another cup cake to go with that latte. I mean you can’t get weirder than that in the spectrum of weirdness because we are talking about world domination here. To talk coherently about weirdness at this level, we would all probably have to invent a new compendium of words to describe that ultra level of weirdness.

What about Hugh Hefner, you think he was normal. I mean if I asked your mummy to dress up in a bunny suit and strut around impersonating a furry mammal – how fucking normal is dat! He was weird too! Along with Edison to Akio Morita to Steve Jobs etc etc etc.

My point is all these weirdo’s attempted to effect social and economic change with class, panache and élan. They played the game right to hilt like one of those fabled gamers that gets to mythical level 74. They had class – they didn’t go around like a bunch of cheap buskers titillating the masses with trite sensationalism that just ended up fatiguing their audiences. Instead theirs was a world class act of weirdness.

As not only did they pave the way for others who may have suffered the same affliction as them to strive towards normalcy, social acceptance and respectability. But the sublimely clever way in which they mesmerized the world with their point of view, products and services even opened the door to multiple imagined futures along with possibilities thereby pushing the envelop of humanity with class, elegance and raw intellectual power.

As for wannabes like Amos Yee and Alvin Tan….like I said….they are just boring. Sorry, seen, done it even have the T shirt to prove that I was there….what a big yawn!…next please!’

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