Books, Current affairs, Media & Marketing

You know guys, I learned something today…

I’ve been walking head first into inspiration lately. First, I read Michael Moore’s latest book, Dude, Where’s My Country, and determined to write to Mr Moore, get a job working on his staff and move to Washington to help the war against Dubya.

Then I watched School of Rock and Mr Jack Black’s high octane, high energy honest-rocking got me geared to write songs. In fact, last Saturday I met a cute New Zealander, and while I failed, in consultant terminology, to “seal the deal”, I’ve decided to throw my inhibitions to the so-called winds and write a song about the sexiness of antipodean-accented-ladies Although I may have to substitute “Australia” for “New Zealand”, for the benefit of good scansion.

While I’ve done and watched many other things recently, the lingering power of those two works has me contemplating my own future, self-involved egotistical bull as that may seem. Michael Moore points out in Dude that the truth of capitalism is that you, being Joe Average, are not ever going to get rich and famous, and that’s part of Capitalist America’s myth that ultimately allows people like Dubya to make massive tax cuts for rich people (because Joe believes that one day he’ll be there, and he’d like that tax cut then). I, being reluctant to accept that I’m Joe Average in any way, and with minimal inclination to money and power, at least, am still looking for a way to change the world. Ok, some money and power might be helpful to that end, but I’m looking for a route. Waiting for my rocket to come. Waiting for my real life to begin.

So a public thanks to Michael Moore and Jack Black. You charming chubby Americans, your pride in what you do, the strength of your convictions and your tireless struggle to promote ideology which I have strong empathy for, if not entirely believe, is inspirational. In the words of AC/DC (and possibly they were paraphrasing a Caesar, but who really knows?): “For those about to rock, I salute you.”

Or in the case of Mr Moore and Mr Black: for those already rockin’.

Afterthought: perhaps the Liberal Myth is that one man can make a difference. I’m not sure I’m cynical enough to abandon that yet.

Film, Media & Marketing

Poisson Grand

Big Fish I know, I have a whole other section for reviews. But this film made an impression on me, although I didn’t quite realise it to begin with. The terrible thing about hype is that your expectation very rarely corresponds to the reality of what the film (book, album, concert, jam) actually involves. Big Fish; Fantasy adenture, tall tales, Ewan McGregor; I expected something between Princess Bride and The Nightmare Before Christmas. And I’m not sure I didn’t get it.

Tim Burton’s always been criticised to me as a director who can’t tell a story. I don’t quite agree with the view; Batman, Nightmare before Christmas, Betelgeuse, they all told stories well enough (even if Planet of the Apes didn’t), if they sacrificed storytelling for atmosphere. I expected something similar again; but Big Fish is a very different kettle of, um, fish.

It’s not that it lacks atmosphere, but structurally, the film did bewilder me at first. A succession of Tall Tales, litle evidence of what was reality and what was fantasy and, to my confused eye, no immediate sense of a progressing narrative. Although the Tall Tales where chronological, they still seemed to lack cohesion.

Gradually, though, and it took longer for it to click in my mind than the watching of the film involved, was that the stories which consume screen time, the stories which identified the primary protagonist, were irrelevant to the plot. The ‘immortality’ that the poster advertises has nothing to do with the principal character’s aims, hopes or desires. His single goal, the single thing which defined him, was a desire to be happy. And here the film holds the same black edge that’s come to be associated with Mr Burton: despite being an absolutely lovely man, our protagonist has managed to alienate his son, lived far away from his wife and is dying. Life isn’t even easy for the good; and perhaps here’s where the stories, the tall tales that form the film, make sense as the fulfillment of Ed Bloom’s need.

It’s a beautiful tragedy, beautifully told. A friend asked me if I cried at the end. I didn’t. I was too perplexed, too confused, too muddled by my own expectations. This is a simple, but wondrous film. I didn’t fully understand why it stuck in my head so long after I’d seen it. I think I do now.

Personal

Happy 2004

New Year with Gil Katie Sheila Sonu & Monu‘llo all – Happy New Year and all the good things that come with it to you all. Had a great holiday in Malaysia, although far from a white Christmas (much more multi-cultural there. And of course, most of my family are varying shades of brown).

Three main bits to my holiday; Christmas, obviously, New Year, and, on Dec 21st… The Return of the King! The much awaited third Lord of the Rings film saw us check in to the Mandarin Oriental hotel, where my siblings and about 17 first cousins and one or two stray aunts got together and watched The Two Towers, played games, shopped at KLCC (a BIG mall) and eventually got to the cinema for the 3 hour extravaganza that was Peter Jackson’s final instalment in the series. Review coming, no doubt, on my flashy new ‘reviews’ blog (use the main navigation to get to reviews, or click here).

Christmas was a family affair; Christmas Eve at hour house, playing games, singing carols and having Punjabi Claus hand out the gifts at midnight. Arvind, in his MBA-isdom, decided on a ‘push’ rather than ‘pull’ system for gift distribution. That didn’t work too well, but eventually the gifts got around and there was much happiness. My haul included a batch of books, hence my motivation to get the reviews page finally up and running, if only so I can keep a log of my reading and film-watching.

New Year’s was spent with friends; Gil & Katie’s Australasian excursion ending up in Singapore/Malaysia, so, following two days of ‘tours’ around major KL malls, we ended up in Bangsar; an expatriate (and apparently Indian)- favoured drinking area in KL, where we visited a couple of bars and rang in the new year several times with a crew of several thousand crazy Malaysian Indians with spray streamers and other party favours. It was surreal, fun and ended with a slightly scary encounter with a psychotic taxi driver, who kept saying to me (and my Malay is shaky, so if there’s an alternate translation I’m not aware of, please do let me know): “tiga orang dah mati, say tak salah, saya tak salah”. My translation has this as “three people are dead, it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault”. He then proceeded to drive us home at about 120km/h in a 50 zone… Yowza.

So a good season; returned to more job applications, another bout of tonsillitis, and various new year’s resolutions concerned with healthy eating and exercise. Resolutiontastic.

Of course a lot more stuff happened over the holidays; my encore classical guitar was destroyed by Malaysian airlines, a replacement Yamaha C-40 was acquired, my cousins and I performed with professional singers an an orphans charity brunch, the Abbalorious SPSetia dinner, the lambtastic Christmas eve dinner, driving like the devil and shopping like it was 1999… All good.

Personal

Christmas Time

James gets funkylicious
Well, the party was a lot of fun. I think everyone had a good time, certainly James seems to have done. No one paid much attention to my Christmas number 2 (Pob has the Christmas number 1 – check out www.melodyfactory.com), but fortunately for the world, you can download it here. I’m off now for the holidays but will be back in the New Year. Have a good one, everybody.

Miscellany, Personal, Work

In Absentia

It’s been a pretty busy and stressful couple of months. Job applications, work experience, tidying up the MA, participating in the creation of a whole new language and group-psychology based entirely on injokes: there’s not been a lot of time for even idle blogging.

But, it’s Christmas now, and I’ve been trying to get a rant out onto the site for a few days now; something lambasting the symbolic non-event Christmas has begun, a tool for marketers and a time when innocent consumers get kicked in the wallet for caring about other people, or at least how other people perceive them. I have, however, failed for any number of reasons.

First and foremost among them, though: I am not a cynic. No matter how hard I try to see the world through jaded eyes, my rose-tinted spectacles keep falling over my face and I keep trusting and hoping beyond hope for the best in people. Only it’s not beyond hope, and every year I get infused with Christmas spirit and turn into a hyperactive zealot for (non-denominational) good cheer.

And I’m a consumer, and I know the con, and I still go out and spend money on decorations and booze and candles and presents and Christmas music; I’m throwing a party and celebrating first with my adoptive family – my friends, a substantial number of whom were at College with me – and then with my literal family. When I get back to Malaysia next Thursday, we’re going to spend a lot of time shopping, and singing, and eating, and hanging out in each other’s houses; and watching the new Lord of the Rings movie with about 16 first cousins. It’s pretty exciting.

Merry Christmas y’all. Have some good tidings, yuletide cheer and mince pies on me. There may be more ‘blogs over the season; there’s going to be photos from the part-ay tonight and it might be necessary to put some of them on display. We will see… – Oh, and look out for my Christmas single, coming soon to a website near you!

Current affairs

AFTA all that, 2020?

Warning: this is marginally less egocentric than my earlier posts.

The world of politics is as disillusioning and frustrating as ever. Today, there was massive hullaballoo in South East Asia as, amidst high security on the beautiful island of Bali in Indonesia, 10 of the region’s political leaders signed an agreement that promised, amongst other things, an Asean free trade zone by 2020.

The Western Press are presumably unaware the the Malaysian government had promised its people the Asean-Free-Trade-Agreement would be in place by 2005, and with that the implication that the various bits of anti-competitive economic practice would come to an end. (Malaysia’s 300% import duty on cars among other things, which gives the local brand, Proton, a ridiculous advantage)

Instead, we’re all chuffed that at least there’s a promise of a new, tax free tomorrow in 2020. Coincidentally [as if] the same year the current, outgoing Prime Minister of Malaysia wants to see his country enter the first world – given that he’ll be 95 if a day then, it seems unlikely he’ll see a great deal.

Oh, and the buggers, despite having said they’d chuck Burma out of Asean if the Burmese government in June if they continued to hold the democracy activist Aung San Suu Kyi, don’t think they’ve reached the last resort yet.

I think I’ll join Amnesty. You can donate here if you feel so inclined.

Media & Marketing, Music, Personal

Holy rusting metal, Batman… a song?

Sexy Armand on GuitarYes, folks, I’ve done it. I’ve put aside what remained of my shame, and written, played, sung and otherwise performed a song, which I’ve recorded and uploaded, in a fit of narcissism. Click here to go to it.

Thus, affirm me. Tell me I’m talented and amazing. Or don’t tell me anything, because if you give the song the criticism it probably richly deserves, you’re gravely misunderstanding the reasons I write: for fun, for learning the skills necessary to record, and so people can be polite about it and discretely enquire about my day-job.

Miscellany, Personal

Holy mama, there’s a competition

Mmmm. Caramelly
Hey all you big and little dawggs out there, scoping out my site and keeping hip with what’s hip with the aceman, I have a competition now. It’s not a good competition by any means, but it may well provide us all with some entertainment, and lots of silly pics.

The idea is that you email me silly pics, preferably of mutual friends, and definitely where you own the copyright, and also provide a silly caption. Then, at at the end of an as yet undetermined period of time, I’ll buy one of you a mars bar. Or a drink. Or a better prize if I get really bored, decide to turn this website into a career and find a sponsor.

Incidentally, if you thought this site was demonstrative of an unspeakable quantity of self-love the likes of which have never been seen, then you should (a) listen to the Robbie Williams song ‘Handsome Man’ and (b) go here.

Miscellany, Personal

Arrr, I be Arrr-Man, king of the Pirates

pirate
Today be the international talk like a pirate day, arr, ye swabs, so get to it. We can all, like Johnny Depp, revel in our talkin-backwards, rum-drinkin’, kind of way, and if we be lucky, there be some wenching in it for us.

But why, tell us, ‘as the rum gone?

Don’t believe me, matey? Check this out. This information came my way via the fictional nation of Qwghlm.

Armand David's personal weblog: dadhood, technology, running, media, food, stuff and nonsense.