Gone to Tumblr

Sorry, blogger. Not feelin' it anymore over here. Gone to Tumblr, and probably gonna stay. But I'm still gonna keep this around, for archiving purposes.

In the meantime, if you were looking for my most recent ramblings, go to http://khaimano.tumblr.com

Switching From Windows to Ubuntu: Part 3 - The Frustration Begins

First off, for those that actually read this blog (all six of you), apologies for the tardiness of part 3 of this post, but truth be told I haven't been in the best of moods recently and the usual levels of joy I get from geekiness hasn't aided the mood swings enough.

Thankfully, all systems are, well, 82% operational in this ex guber and hopefully that shall suffice as I do want to finish this series of posts. Especially this one - the frustrations.

After falling in love with Ubuntu on my little netbook I decided I wanted to try it on a more powerful system and see what other possibilities were available. If I could find a decent amount of good software that I could feasibly replace all my work software with I could say goodbye to Windows once and for all!

Sadly, that's not the case.

Video Editing


This was the main one - video editing. Most, if not all my worky-work is based around filmmaking and video editing is the main thing I use my computer for more than anything else. With my first year of work load alone I killed a video card and my second one looks like it's going to die anytime soon. Now, whilst most people use Final Cut Pro on Macs for editing, I am not a fan - ever since I was introduced to Vegas 3.0 back when it was under Sonic Foundry I've been in love with the software. It makes editing so simple and intuitive I've managed to edit most of my jobs at breakneck speeds and most FCP users I know who watch me using it always end up asking if there's anyway to install it onto a Mac.

I knew Vegas was a Windows only software, but if there was a decent enough video editing software that would allow me to do the same level of work that I do at the same quality I wouldn't mind learning a new interface because the cost-difference would be huge.

Sadly, that's not the case.

Video editing on Linux systems is very much in its infancy. There are some that show promise, such as KDEnLive, but it's nowhere near the usability for professional video editing work. I would even settle for something that had an interface like FCP or Adobe Premiere or Avid as long as it was open source and free but right now it doesn't even seem like there are Linux based video editing software to match Windows Movie Maker and iMovie, which is really kinda sad. The most powerful Linux video editing software apparently is Cinerella but I've been having trouble installing the damn thing so still no tests on that yet. Sigh...

The first problem is the whole codec issue - video codecs are proprietary and not many companies are open to having their codecs out there for free. The other problem, I feel, is that I don't think there are any hardcore video editors who are working on trying to develop a decent video editing software for Linux and in a way, I can understand why - video editors are insanely loyal to the software they're used to using. I myself pledge allegiance to Vegas. But it would be wonderful if there was a Vegas-like software out there that was open-source. It really would be something. Hell, I'm even tempted to learn code and develop something like that, though I doubt I have enough patience to do so.

Audio


And now to the most annoying thing about switching to Linux - audio support.

After some research on what audio software was available for recording music I was surprised to find that, whilst video editing software wasn't that great, apparently there was a host of audio recording software for Digital Audio Workstations that apparently were just as good as their Windows and Mac counterparts.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't know. None of my high-end audio soundcards were supported by Linux. My ECHO Firewire 4, my EMU 1212M, no luck. I could get basic audio working for playing back regular sounds and mp3's out of my motherboard's on-board soundcard, but no luck with my pro-hardware. And Ardour, the software that supposedly matches Sonar and ProTools, won't open without a proper high end soundcard configured. Joy.

Finding out all this was indeed frustrating. I can kinda understand the video editing thing because it's software, but audio should just work. It shouldn't be so difficult to get a damn soundcard working. I didn't expect there to be any decent video editing software but from my research I was hoping to be able to turn all my audio recording systems to Linux. Dammit.

So there's the main problem - I can imagine switching to Ubuntu for regular computer stuff - documents, internet stuff, even graphics and web design - but when it comes to the things I work with that are my bread and butter, there's no choice. I have to remain using my Windows system and constantly get screwed over by the excess fat and bull-crap all over the Microsoft software systems.

And it's frustrating. Damn frustrating. I like the concept of open source software and Ubuntu has given the world a version of Linux that's well supported, well designed and simple enough to make the transition relatively easy. It's just too bad I can't use it for my professional work as well.

However, all is not lost, as the next part will show, because there's something else Ubuntu is still useful for - reviving older computers.

Switching From Windows to Ubuntu: Part 2 - What I Love

So here we are at part two - the electric boogaloo of this multi-parted posting of the joys (and later, woes) of switching from Windows to Ubuntu. In the last post I talked about why in the hell I decided to switch to Ubuntu in the first place and how I went about doing it.

Now? Now we talk of the loveliness of it all.

First Impressions

After the not-so-arduous-at-all task of installing Ubuntu onto my eeePC 1201T netbook I was greeted with a desktop that kinda looks like Windows, kinda looks like a Mac, kinda not like either.

The desktop has both a top bar and a bottom bar. At first I wondered what the point of having two was, being used to just one bar where everything was done. After fiddling about a bit, though, I understood why.

The top bar is where you navigate between your programs, your folders/drives and your preferences and system administration, as well as showing you the time/date, the shutdown button and your social networking apps (more on that later).

The bottom bar is where your open windows get minimized to a bar (just like windows) the thrash can and 'show desktop' button, and my personal favorite, the workspace area.

Mac users are used to this but Windows users probably aren't and it's one of the cool things I love about Ubuntu - the multiple workspaces. Imagine if you had four monitors which you could open different stuff on, except instead of having four monitors you just have one monitor and switch between them, either with a mouse or via some simple shortcut keys. The pic on the right has my music player in the first workspace, Chromium in the second, Ubuntu Software Center in the third and the fourth is empty.

It may not sound like much, but when you actually start using it it's a godsend, especially on a small netbook with limited screen space. Instead of minimizing and maximizing different windows I just open them full on different workspaces and switch between them.

Like I said, Mac users are used to this. They are also used to spending a lot more on their computers and laptops for functions such as this. This is FREE. Say no more.

After installing Ubuntu, I clicked around to make sure everything was working - sound, video, webcam, bluetooth and whether or not I'd be able to use my Maxis USB modem. Before installing Ubuntu I had researched around to make sure that the modem works since the software that Maxis uses is a purely Windows exe file, and whilst it had trouble doing so in Ubuntu 9, the latest version had no problems. I simply plugged it in before installing, went to the 'edit connections' section, chose my country, chose 'Maxis' and '3G' and Ubuntu did the rest. Simple.

Sound was working fine as well, as did video, but after installing it Ubuntu did an automatic check to make sure all hardware was compatible, detected that it needed to install a third-party driver and did so automatically.

The webcam and bluetooth connectivity also worked straight away but taking the laptop out to a cafe with wifi showed the first problem - the wifi couldn't connect properly.

However, after some researching on-line, I discovered that this problem only occured for this particular model of eeePC (all other models worked fine) and to fix it was incredibly simple as someone had the kindness of heart to write a program file to fix this which you could download easily.

This was one of the many things that began to endear me more and more to Ubuntu - since it's a Linux system and most software and hardware companies don't really take much notice of Linux (simply because, well, they won't make that much money in comparison to catering to Windows users) it is expected that you'll find issues with drivers for certain hardware types. But the Ubuntu community is so incredibly giving and it's a true community - if there's something not working on Ubuntu, there'll be someone out there who's either trying to figure out how to fix it or has already done so.

One quick install later, and my wifi was working wonderfully.

This brings me to the topic of installing software - Windows users are used to downloading a software file or sticking in a CD, running the installation software and picking where the software is saved, how to configure it, unticking the 'yes, I would like to install the 'Ask' toolbar' box, etc.

In the past, this was heaven in comparison to installing a Linux software - you'd download a compressed folder of all the different components of the software and literally put it together yourself.

Not with Ubuntu. It couldn't be simpler. You just open the 'Ubuntu Software Center', pick the software you want and click install. That's it. Done. It'll appear in your 'Applications' section under the appropriate sub-heading. And if there's a software you know has been made for Linux but it's not in the Software Center, just google for the software's 'deb' package. A 'deb' package is like an 'exe' file for installing software in Ubuntu without having to click 'next' all the time.

Pre-Installed Software

Ubuntu also doesn't come as just an operating system - a handful of software is already pre-included and installed together with the OS.

Amongst this package of software is Open Office, or as I like to call it 'Microsoft Office Free'. It pretty much does everything Microsoft Office does with added bonuses - for example, you don't need to have a paid version of Adobe Reader to be able to turn office documents into pdf's. You just click on 'export to pdf'. I actually used to have the Windows version of Open Office on my work computer purely to convert documents to pdf. It'll open all Microsoft Office documents and you can save your files in the same format too.

The rest of the software includes a basic photo viewer, a music player (which I'm using right now to listen to music whilst typing this. It's kinda like iTunes, just incredibly simple and light), a movie player, disc burner, basic video editor, audio recorder, etc. Simple software that most, if not all, regular computer users would use and simply work.

There are also a whole bunch of internet apps which I'll go into right now:-

Surfin' the Cyberspace

Since I had it installed on a netbook my main aim of installing Ubuntu was to have a light OS with adequate software to type, do spreadsheets and surf the net, but thanks to the simplicity of the OS I've found myself using the net a lot more than I used to.

Ubuntu comes pre-installed with a number of internet applications that you would use. The main browser is Firefox though I preferred Google Chrome so I went to the software center and downloaded 'Chromium' which was basically Google Chrome without the Google branding. But a browser's not all that's installed.

Ubuntu also comes installed with Empathy and Gwibber and both are made a part of the desktop experience. At the top right hand corner of the desktop you'll find your computer name but clicking on it will show your name and your options for opening either a chat client or update your social networking sites which is all done via Empathy and Gwibber.

Empathy is basically an all-in-one chat software - you just key in your Facebook, Google Chat, MSN account, whichever, and all your contacts pop up from all of these for you to chat to. No need for the browser.

I actually used to hate chatting online because I always found it so distracting but with Ubuntu it feels a lot more simpler and intuitive. As opposed to having chats pop up within my Gmail page they open up via Empathy. I used to hate that chats would clutter the screen and distract me but with Ubuntu I simply set up one workspace for all my chats and when I'm notified about a chat I just switch to that workspace then switch back to whatever it was I was originally working on. Simple.

Gwibber is pretty much the same thing but for social networking sites, so you simply add in all your accounts and when you update your status it automatically does it for all your sites - Facebook, Twitter, whatever - whilst also giving you the latest updates on your contacts. Personally, I don't actually use Gwibber because I'm not a Twitter freak and prefer to check out Facebook via the site, but for those that like to constantly update their daily bowel movements this is the app for you.

And then there's 'Transmission', Ubuntu's bitorrent client. With Windows, the fastest torrents I would get on average would be about 10kb/s with my connection, occasionally shooting up to 30 or 50 for short periods of time (usually between 2am and 5am, but only on certain months for some reason).

I'd always assumed it was my connection, but when I was thinking of trying out Ubuntu Studio (a different version of Ubuntu) since it was such a huge file I decided to download the torrent from the official site instead, assuming that the 1.7GB's would take a few weeks to download.

It took about a day and a half.

My torrent downloads have gone from about 10kb/s to about 25-50 kb/s on average, which really makes me wonder how much firewall bull-crap is going on with Windows. In fact, anything internet related in general just feels faster on Ubuntu, even though it's the same connection as when I'm using Windows.

It is, in general, fully of 'net-y goodness.

Other Software

After enjoying the pre-installed stuff n' stuff, it was time to download some other software that I might need.

One of the main things I needed was a script-writing software for my flicks. Unfortunately, there was no Final Draft for Linux... but there's always Celtx.

Celtx is free and it's not just a script-writing software but also helps you schedule, storyboard and do most of your pre-pro within the software. It wasn't in the Ubuntu Software Center but it was available to download from the Celtx site and they had some simple instructions on how to install it. But if you don't mind a slightly older version of Celtx, someone has already done a 'deb' package for it.

I also wanted a simple software to do a layout for a possible office. Bear in mind, all I wanted was an overhead 2D software to do so and was ready to use OpenOffice draw to do my layout.

Then I found SweetHome 3D.

SweetHome 3D is not only a simple layout software for figuring out how to design the space in your home/apartment/office/wherever, it also gives you a 3D render.

And I never expected to render something like this with a netbook:-

Again, it's not in the Ubuntu Software Center but there is a 'deb' package out there either from getdeb or softpedia. You can even render video tours of whatever space you design.

And I really can't imagine doing this on a netbook running Windows 7 Starter.

Another piece of software I really enjoyed was Kompozer, which is available in the Ubuntu Software Center and is basically a web-design software in the same vein as the old Microsoft Office Frontpage which now no longer exists. I always enjoyed designing websites on Kompozer and have always been a firm believer that most websites need nothing more in their design than html. If it's info, you want it to load fast and if someone with a slow connection is waiting for your flash site to appear for too long they're just gonna go some place else.

Other software I downloaded includes Gimp which is basically photoshop for Linux users and UFRaw, a software for viewing and editing the raw files from my Canon 5D Mark II. Finally, for video playback I downloaded VLC Player and my netbook was complete.

Preliminary Conclusion

After using Ubuntu on my netbook for a month I fell in love with it. These little netbooks are becoming more and more popular but so many people are putting up with slow and clunky speeds simply because they've accepted that Windows 7 Starter is pre-installed so might as well use it. There is another option and the differences in speed and usability are incredibly noticeable.

And for those that are using the small netbooks with the 10 inch screens, Ubuntu also has a netbook version of its OS specifically designed for small screens. It's in essence the same operating system except the interface is redesigned to make it easier to navigate around and maximizing as much of the screen space as possible.

I was so in love with Ubuntu that I researched about the OS even more. If all went well, I could give my older laptop a new lease of life and maybe even replace my main desktop systems with Ubuntu instead of Windows because, truth be told, I love the concept of open source software. Computer's have become an integral part of society now and they should be easily accessible to as many people as possible.

But, as the next post will reveal, some of my plans with Ubuntu worked, some didn't. It was only when I decided to spread Ubuntu through all my other systems that I realized the honeymoon was over and the process of give and take was about to sink in.

Tune in for the next post to find out what happens, peeps.





















Oh, yeah. Almost forget. The cat pic:-

Switching From Windows to Ubuntu: Part 1 - Why I Switched

For those that are used to me using 'clever' titles for my blog posts (by 'clever', I mean 'retarded and confusing') the basic simplicity of the title of this post must appear odd and out of character.

Well, there's a reason - whilst I would recommend switching from Windows to Ubuntu to most of the regular computer users out there, most of the 3rd party literature available on-line of Ubuntu - reviews, praises, etc - are written by people who are already Linux users and can be quite daunting for those that have no frickin' clue what an operating system is, much less what GNOME is.

The hope is to write a post that might aid in no small part to the switching to Ubuntu for those that it'll benefit the most in my own special, rambling way of explaining things.

(And at the same time hopefully generate enough hits on this goddamn blog so that I'll finally get a check for displaying ads on this thing. I swear, I'm giving it another couple of months and if I don't see a check, Nuffnang can suck it. If I'm not gonna get revenue from this blog then those that do read do not need to be inundated with ads about Cornetto contests.)

So here it begins - the first of God knows how many parts. I was originally going to write it all in one post but after realizing how much I'd written up to the point of installing it I figured it would make more sense to split it up. I mean, seriously. Look at how much I've written for the introduction.

I just ramble. Uncontrollably. Pointlessly. Just for the sake of it. I guess it's all rooted in that one event that happened so many years ago, across the moors of Scotland where a red-haired thing of beauty caressed me in ways no other farm animal ever did...

...crap. What the hell was I talking about?

Oh. Yes. Of course. Ubuntu. Right. Back to the plot.

Rambles aside, the fact of the matter is I do strongly believe that Ubuntu is ideal for a lot of people out there and I'd like to get the word out there because there are a ton of people out there that it could benefit but because the switch appears so daunting it puts people off.

Please don't be put off. Please. Ubuntu is your friend. Let it caress you and fondle your nether-regions with glee. Please.

How It All Began

It all started, simply enough, with my search for the ideal laptop.

From the age of 17 I'd been using a laptop. As a student in England, constantly switching from boarding school dorms to university dorms to apartments, a laptop was essential - surfing the net for 'research', checking e-mail, recording and playing back music and, most important of all, writing. Almost every script I've ever shot was written on a laptop. It made sense - the evolution of the typewriter, as it were.

But as I got more into filmmaking, I switched to a desktop to edit my videos and as time went by my laptop was relegated to the corner to pick up dust.

Over the past three years I've bought and sold a number of laptops, trying to find one to replace my old laptop for the purposes of mobility. I bought one of the first generations of eeePC's from Asus, only to be eventually put off by it's tiny size, tiny keyboard and numerous people saying it looks like a girl's laptop.

After selling that, I bought a 15" Acer which would've been a very powerful laptop... if it didn't come with frickin' Windows Vista.

Recently, I bought the Asus eeePC 1201T, a kind of hybrid between a regular laptop and a netbook - 12" screen, AMD processor with 2GB of RAM and an ATI graphics card. Slick and slim enough to bring around without causing shoulder-ache-y-ness, yet powerful enough to do everything I intended to do on it - writing scripts, doing up spreadsheets and powerpoints, surfing the net and showing videos to clients.

However, like every netbook out there, this came with Windows 7 Starter.

When I was first introduced to Windows 7 I instantly fell in love with it - lighter than Vista, more aesthetically pleasing and since it was the Ultimate 64 bit version, my PC was fully maximized which was perfect for video editing.

But if Windows 7 was the souped up sports car of the Windows lineage, Windows 7 Starter was like a cheap local car kitted out with a fancy body kit - looks like a sports car, runs like a retard.

To this day, I still don't understand the logic of Windows 7 Starter. Whilst I understand that it's meant to be a stripped down version of Windows 7, when you can't even change the desktop background, something every OS in the entire world has pretty much allowed you to do in the past decade, alarm bells start ringing.

And forcing someone to have to put up with a light blue background of your logo is one thing. Making the use of any software or hack that changes the desktop image as grounds for voiding the warranty is just plain petty.

The whole desktop background thing was just the tip of the iceberg - snooping around Windows 7 Starter made me realize just how much it won't let you customize, change or fix yourself. There was no way I was gonna use this and I honestly don't believe anyone should have to put up with it, even those who are using their laptops for the most minimal of things.

Unfortunately, for some reason ALL Asus eeePC's in Malaysia come with Windows 7 Starter and nothing else. You literally can't buy the laptop without the OS (and bear in mind, the cost of the OS is included in the cost of the laptop so if you didn't have Windows 7 Starter on it the laptop would be about two hundred ringgit cheaper).

I knew I wanted to remove Windows 7 Starter after about half an hour of using it. But what OS to replace it? I could switch back to Windows XP but I was curious to find out if there was something lighter, simpler and user friendly.

I also didn't want to pay a damn thing and the pirates are getting less reliable (I swear, their not even trying now).

After giving it a lot of thought and researching on-line, I decided to finally give Linux a go with their most popular version at the moment, Ubuntu.

Got A Lust For Linux

I remember always wanting to try out Linux in the hopes of one day converting to it, going way back to when I was a teenager and wanted to learn how to hack. Something about the thought of possibly sneaking into the pentagon mainframe and renaming all the cool missile code names into Simpsons characters put a smile on my face.

When I first entered university I discovered that out of the many computer labs there was a dedicated Linux room. I went in with such high hopes...

...until I switched on one of the computers and wondered what the fuck I was looking at.

Ever since then, there's always been that feeling that Linux systems weren't within reach - they were in another world, the elite geeks who knew code and programmed complex algorithms for fun in between bouts of three-dimensional chess.

And I just couldn't be bothered to learn code.

Earlier this year, however, I got myself a brand new phone as I figured it was high time I got a smart phone knowing I'd use it to its fullest. However, I knew two things for certain:-

1. I wanted the phone to have a keyboard
2. Under no circumstances whatsoever did I want an iPhone

(I'll get into my feelings about the revered Mac products later on in one of the other posts).

After trying out a bunch of phones I finally settled on the Nokia N900 - only RM100 more than a Nokia N97 mini and packed with a lot more features. The phone was so new on the market when I bought it I had to wait a couple months before I could find a shop that was selling a screen protector for it.

What attracted me most to the phone, however, was the operating system - the phone ran on Maemo, which was based on Linux. The phone even had a terminal to write code and commands in, for God's sake! The thought that there was a phone running on Linux really intrigued me and, after using it for a week, I fell instantly in love with it.

The Linux bug was back, and with the new laptop, perhaps it was time to try out Linux 'for real'.

Googling for information on different Linux operating systems, however, feels infuriating for the uninitiated - all the sites on different OS's have so little real and understandable information. It's as if everyone who creates Linux OS's know everything there is to know about code but hardly anything about communicating information to the regular human being.

(And, in quite a few cases, it also looks like they have no clue on how to design a website in a manner that's both attractive and understandable).

It's also annoying to find that a lot of the Linux OS's websites are very obviously written with Linux users in mind, making it very difficult for a non-Linux user to step in and discover it's fruity goodness.

Ubuntu, however, isn't like that.It probably has the most understandable and attractive website I've seen yet, though still a bit vague in areas. Nonetheless, from reading the website you know this is a community that wants you, the non-Linux-y person, to give it a try.

And for those that can't be bothered to click this link to find out more, in a nutshell all you really need to know is this:-

1. Ubuntu is an operating system for a computer
2. It's simple to understand after fiddling with it for a bit
3. There's a ton of free software to suit (most of) your needs
4. It's free and regularly maintained and updated

After looking at a number of other possible operating systems with either incomprehensible or vague websites, I decided to give Ubuntu a go.

Installing Ubuntu

There are a number of ways one can install Ubuntu, but for a lot of people (myself included), the thought of completely deleting an OS that I understood but didn't like in order to install a new OS that sounds great but I've never tried is kinda scary.

That's where the wonderful Wubi comes in.

Wubi is a software you can download at the Ubuntu website that allows you to try out Ubuntu within your Windows computer. You basically download the Ubuntu iso image (an iso image is essentially the file equivalent of a CD or DVD that you can download and burn to a CD or DVD in order to have your very own installer) and use Wubi to install Ubuntu onto your computer in Windows and when you re-start the computer you are given the choice of either running Windows or Ubuntu.

If it turns out Ubuntu isn't the OS for you or it simply won't install on your computer (I'll get to that in a bit) then all you have to do is uninstall Wubi by opening Windows, going to your programs list and uninstalling it like you would any other software.

Pretty simple, right?

After trying out Ubuntu through Wubi for a while, I decided why not - let's jump into the deep end and install the lil' bugger.

The version of Ubuntu I downloaded was the latest one - Ubuntu 10.04, or Lucid Lynx as it's also known. Unlike earlier versions of Ubuntu, the installation process for Lucid Lynx is via a rather attractive and easy to understand graphical interface, much like how you'd install Windows.

And if you're still worried about how the whole process of installing Ubuntu, don't be - the website shows you how to do it in very simple steps. And if you still don't get it, just google 'how to install ubuntu' and you'll find a number of sites telling you exactly how to go about it.

After less than twenty minutes, Ubuntu was installed on my laptop.

And after a week of fiddling around with it, I was in love.

Next up: Using Ubuntu, the software I love, the dark side of Linux and my personal opinion of operating systems in general.

Oh. And a picture of a cat doing something cat-like.

Infinite Mental Crisis

I have, of late, been feeling rather odd.

This whole week, in fact, has been a strange sensation of oddness. It started off mildly, but increased exponentially as the week continued. The oddness was an emotional one, a strange feeling that I couldn't really pinpoint but new it was not a pleasant sensation, and the feeling grew and grew, this odd oddness, and the more it grew, the more frustrated I became, annoyed that I couldn't pinpoint any cause or reason which would mean not knowing any solution or cure.

A few hours earlier, the oddness subsided, aided in some strange way by watching 'The Dead Poets Society' again. However, as the emotional oddness subsided, physical oddness has now taken its place -  I'm not sure whether I'm tired or ill, it feels like I'm either high or drunk but have imbibed no substances of any kind. In conversation I've been finding it harder and harder to maintain a flow of sentence, and even whilst typing this I know I am not doing so at my usual speed, constantly fixing numerous typos.

I have no idea where these waves of oddness are coming from. I have no clue as to the emotional underpinnings behind it all. I have no explanation for the physical oddness (apart from the possibility that Dominos once again either laced my pizza with illegal herbs and spices or some form of bodily fluid that I'd rather not know about). I have no idea where all this is coming from this week.

But I do know what doesn't help - reading 'Final Crisis'.

In an earlier post I had written about how I wanted to know how Batman has died in the DC Universe and picked up Batman R.I.P. thinking it would be the story of how Batman had finally kicked the bucket only to discover that it was the prelude to the actual event happening in a book called 'Final Crisis' which I picked up this morning, hoping that a dose of comic goodness would lift me out of this funk oddity.

I got home, did some work and proceeded to read it to discover the dawn of man, multiple earths, the death of J'Onn the Martian Manhunter (which happens off-screen, sorry, off-panel), good gods, evil gods, the destruction of all mankind, Japanese harajuku super hero teenagers, multiple Supermans, every Flash in existence, multiverse vampires and the enslavement of all mankind as they ride giant dogs.

And somewhere amongst it all, over two to three pages, Batman pops up out of nowhere, pulls out a super-gun, caps the dude that's behind it all but just before he gets shot, the super-baddy zaps Batman in the head with lazer thingeys and fries him. Batman turns to skeleton (though his suit is surprisingly intact).

As for Superman? He was too late to save the Bat. Because he was in the future, somehow. Or something. I have no fucking clue.

Superman had a huge story-arc dedicated to his upcoming death when he died back in the early nineties. Batman gets two to three pages and dies like a bitch. There's something wrong with all this.

I have read the book three times today because, like my emotional oddity, this book is like a puzzle that I can't seem to frickin' figure out. It reminds me of when I read Grant Morrison's 'The Filth', except somehow that was easier to accept.

Like almost every other comic book I've picked up recently after my hiatus of non-comic goodness, it feels like the only way I can truly appreciate 'Final Crisis' is if I've read every other DC comic that preceded it, the '52' books and every single character book that has a crossover with this - Superman, The Flash, Green Lantern, everyone. And it's frickin' frustrating. It's actually putting me off super hero comic books more and more because they seem increasingly inaccessible. Where am I going to get my sequential art fix now? I remember being super-excited every time I'd go to the comic book store - what wonderful stories would I read today? I now feel like every time I pick up a comic book it's as if I've walked in halfway through a movie.

Regardless, the oddness of feeling has finally subsided, perhaps due to the complete emotional, physical and mental draining that this book has endured upon me, and I have learnt three valuable lessons:-

1. I may be too old to pick up superhero comics now
2. I'm probably too dumb to understand anything Grant Morrison writes
3. I'm not that financially secure to waste more money on frustrating items such as these

Next book I buy is gonna be a 'Hellblazer' book. And if John Constantine disappoints me (which he never has) I'm afraid I'm going to have to say goodbye to comic books forever and start reading 'Twilight'.

Kind Words Go A Long Way

So I just found out Benjamin McKay passed away.

I didn't really know Mr. McKay. I'd only met him once. He e-mailed me because Criticine had asked him to cover my feature film 'Ciplak' and asked when it was being screened so he could do a write up on it.

There were two people who were invited to the 'Ciplak' screening who's review I was quite nervous about. Benjamin's review was one of them.

I remember meeting him after the launch party for the flick at Laundry. He came over and introduced himself and told me the review would be up soon and that it would be positive.

I remember clicking open the review, nervous as hell, worried about whether or not he would like the movie...

...and instead discovering the most in-depth review of 'Ciplak' I had ever read.

I was amazed, proud, honored and incredibly touched that someone would write about my tiny little low-budget movie the way he did and I was incredibly grateful that he would even consider taking the time to write such an in-depth review in the first place.

I never met Mr. McKay after that, but I'll always be grateful for that review and thankful that he was such a presence in the local independent film scene.

Rest In Peace, sir.

Comical Frustration

I haven't bought comic books in a while. A long while. There haven't been any storylines or new books that piqued my interest. I've pretty much given up on trying to find books on par with stuff like Watchmen, Sandman, Transmetropolitan or Preacher. Hellblazer's always been reliable but I've been jones-ing for something different before going back to ol' John Constantine so I thought I'd check out some good ol' superhero stuff.

And it sure's been a mixed bag.

As I was browsing through Borders last week I saw there was a new 'Astonishing X-Men'. I'd been loving the series under Joss Whedon, a fresh and enjoyable run after Grant Morrison's 'New X-Men' became more and more of a headfuck (btw, totally looking forward to the Whedon touch on the Avengers movie). And the series was now being written by Warren Ellis.

I'm a huge Ellis fan. 'Transmetropolitan' is one of my favorite comic books and his novel 'Crooked Little Vein' was brilliant. Seeing his name on an X-Men book instantly made me salivate and I bought it straight away, even though I thought the price was a bit high...

...and I wish I could say the book was thoroughly enjoyable, but it's not the case.

Don't get me wrong - the writing is classic Ellis, but the entire story is predicated on the reader knowing about a whole bunch of crap that happened in the Marvel universe somewhere between the last book and this which involved Wanda Maximoff killing all the mutants in the world except for about 198 of them by giving birth to a baby with her brain or something.

The entire story in this book is based on all this stuff that's happened before. There was no such problem with the transition from 'New X-Men' to 'Astonishing X-Men' but in this it's just nuts. The last thing I knew about the Marvel universe was the whole 'Avengers Disassembled' storyline where Wanda went nuts which really just felt like Marvel trying to do something like DC's 'Identity Crisis' and reaching nowhere near the strength of that storyline. As for 'Civil War'? I haven't a frickin' clue. Now Wanda's gone nuts again? And it's affected everyone? And there's no explanation given, just assume the readers know all about the entire Marvel universe and carry on? Rather annoying.

On top of that, whilst the art is beautiful and the paneling creative, it's also real difficult to read and follow, sometimes downright confusing. Quite a disappointment indeed.

Now, remember how I was saying that Grant Morrison's run of 'X-Men' turned into quite a head fuck? I've always found Grant Morrison's writing difficult at times for my tastes. I know people who swear by him, and I can see why, but sometimes his head fucks really fuck up my head.

'Batman R.I.P.' is no exception.

I'd heard that Batman had been killed off and was really curious to read the book on how it happened and I assumed 'Batman R.I.P.' was the one only to discover it's the book that leads up to his death in 'Final Crisis' (which, I guess, since I started with R.I.P. I might as well buy to find out what the hell's happened). I'd read earlier Grant Morrison Batman stories and I thought his style really suited the character.

This book is also written with the assumption that you know what's been going on before and makes a lot of references to it, but it's a lot more acceptable since it's an on-going series and the book's just a compilation of a bunch of issues that make up a story arc. A bit frustrating, but understandable as opposed to X-Men which assumes you've read every other Marvel story arc from every other damn comic.

However, after reading R.I.P., I think my brain's just not tuned for Morrison stuff. I dunno. It was just really hard to get into. Yet another head fuck in which Batman is the one being head fucked. leading to one's own head feeling fucked at the sight of Batman going bat-shit crazy.

Still, would really like to know how Batman buys it in the end.

Out of all the comic books I bought, though, the one that I enjoyed the most was the one I didn't expect to grip me at all - 'Ultimates 3'.

Now, although I have been following the 'Ultimates' series since issue 1 (for those not in the know, 'Ultimates' is basically the Avengers done as if in the real world here and now, starting from scratch), at least 'Ultimates 3' has the courtesy of having a 'previously on Ultimates' type intro on the first page to catch new guys up to speed. Jeph Loeb's writing is fast and fun and in keeping with the 'Ultimates' style of a huge, epic blockbuster movie and Madureira's art is mind-blowing.

However, yet again it's all centered around Wanda Maximoff. What's everyone's beef at Marvel with the Scarlet Witch?!

I'm not sure which books to buy next. I'd really like to get into a brand new series, one that blows my mind and grips me the same way my favorite graphic novels of the past have, but I have no idea what to pick up. If anyone's got any ideas, holla back.

Feeding the Head Bones

I have odd head bones.

It's no fault of mine and I don't complain. In fact, I'm quite proud of my head bones. It is through the strangeness of my head bones' activity that I attribute most of the things that I do. My head bones act differently and feed off different things and from this oddity comes the things that I do.

My head bones like to learn. Like Johnny 5 from the Short Circuit movies it constantly needs input. Back in the day it fed off a diet of writing, filmmaking, music and sound production, learning as much as it could in these creative tasks. The head bones were happy - there was much to eat.

The problem with my head bones is that, once it's decided there's nothing else to learn, the head bones get bored. The head bones have a voracious appetite and constantly need to eat and when the head bones have nothing to eat, the head bones get sad. It works the other way as well - when I'm sad for others reasons, feeding the head bones makes me happy.

It is because of the appetite of these head bones that I built my own guitar, for example, as well as all the other stuff I find myself randomly doing at times. And it is because of the appetite of these insane head bones that I've found myself occupied with another activity this past month...

...there used to be only one computer in The Hub. Now there's four (with another three in various states of repair).

My main computer for the longest time was a pentium quad core with 4 gigs of RAM. This was the computer for which all my video editing for the past two years was done as well as the recording of my band's soon-to-be-released album, but recently I've felt like I've been pushing it a bit too much and some parts may need an upgrade.

Then, instead of an upgrade, I figured I might as well build another PC for editing and keep the quad for audio production. It made sense since I was torn between having a 64 bit machine which would be great for editing and a 32 bit machine which is better for audio since a lot of the sound cards and plug ins for audio don't have 64 bit support (yet).

After some research, I decided to build myself an i5 quad core with 8 gigs of RAM and 2 terabytes of hard drive - 500 gigs for windows, another 500 for design and photography and a terabyte for video editing running at 64 bit Windows 7 Ultimate slightly overclocked (simply because I can) and it is gorgeous. Meanwhile, I set up the old quad core streamlining it for audio production running trusty Windows XP 32 bit.

After that, I started researching turning PC's into media centers. Eddy had an old PC he wasn't using so I asked if I could gut it and mess around with it but, unfortunately, it's specs were way too low to have it as a permanent entertainment center (256 MB of RAM, for starters).

I did, however, discover a very cool freeware called SesamTV which was pretty simple to install and use and decided to turn the audio PC into a media center as well since I mainly use the video editing computer than anything else. Not only that, I loaded it up with a bunch of emulators for old-school arcade games as well as Super Nintendo and Sega Megadrive and also got myself an old-school arcade style joystick.

As for the old PC, I then tried fooling around with Linux, deciding on Ubuntu, but there wasn't enough RAM to make it usable. I then tried sticking the components into a much smaller casing of a very ancient PC but it wouldn't fit. What to do with this ancient machine?

Simple. Turn it into a torrent machine.

That settled, I was still very curious about Ubuntu and Linux in general. I'd always wanted to try it out and see what it was like. I decided to pull out my old laptop and try it out using the wubi software to install a dual boot without having to partition my windows.

After a lot of testing, I decided to keep trying out Ubuntu and keeping it on the laptop.

One problem, though - the laptop was indeed old and needed some fixing. The plug jack was loose which meant I had to use the bulky laptop dock to plug it into a socket and batteries weren't an option since it was so old it would only last less than half an hour. The DVD-R drive was also shot to hell. I decided to go to Low Yat and find out how much it would cost to fix all these parts and maybe add some RAM.

After checking out the costs, it made more sense to just buy a netbook and decided on the Asus Eee PC 1201T.

About two years ago I bought one of the first generations of Eee PC netbooks and, after a while, sold it. I like the idea of a compact laptop but one of the things I really didn't like was the keyboard - tiny, unresponsive and not enough clickety-clack.

I like clickety-clack.

I sold off the Eee PC to Davina (who promptly over-heated it to death, from what I gather) and later bought an Acer with a dedicated graphics card and decent RAM and processor so that I could edit on the go.

The problem with that? It was big. And it came pre-loaded with Windows Vista which sucked balls. I sold it off to Colonel Kurtz and remained without a laptop, occasionally pulling out the old trusty Toshiba I'd written countless screenplays on whenever I wanted to work on the sofa instead of a desk.

That's when it really hit me - I enjoyed writing on a laptop. I liked my big and powerful quad core monsters for video and sound editing but when it came to writing out ideas I liked being mobile. All my past screenplays and television scripts were written on a laptop. It was just more comfortable and conducive to writing.

The 1201T is a little different from usual netbooks - it's kinda like a hybrid of a regular laptop and a netbook - 12.1" screen, AMD processor with 2 gigs of RAM and an ATI graphics card. It was a choice between this or a Thinkpad but the keyboard on the Asus was a lot more comfortable.

With a lot more clickety-clack.

The only thing that annoyed me about it was the fact that it comes pre-loaded with Windows 7 starter. Now, I love Windows 7 but the Starter version is beyond retarded - you can't even change the desktop background without hacking into the Windows which, according to Microsoft, kills the warranty. Besides, I was going to install Ubuntu anyway.

And after a few days using it on this laptop, I've fallen in love with the OS. I'm already looking up audio production software for Linux which I plan to test out that are apparently pretty decent and if someone comes up with a video editing software on Linux that stands up to Sony Vegas Windows can say goodbye.

Even now my head bones are still swirling - Ubuntu is keeping it fed quite a bit, researching other things to twiddle with on this lovely free OS as well as learning the code whilst I type this on the new laptop, uploading the latest corporate video I edited on the i5 and watching The Big Bang Theory on the other PC, switching between episodes with the wireless keyboard. I'm already thinking of other things I can do with the old Toshiba laptop as well as an older Compaq laptop I've got hidden away somewhere (which actually works fine except for the fact that the screen is cracked and the keyboard's missing a few keys thanks to my brother's curiosity when he was two years old) and I'm even thinking of turning the old torrent PC into an old arcade machine instead.

I have happy head bones now, and they're geeking out. I sure hope it lasts a while because it was a choice between either fiddling with the innards and OS's of computers or picking up painting again.

And that's just messy.

(P.S. If anybody out there has any ancient PC's they're thinking of throwing in the garbage, gimme a buzz.)

An Oil Cyst, An Inflammation & A Scalpel

Those that know me very well know that I have a few little bumps here and there on my body. Though they seem a bit odd I have been assured by many doctors that it is a harmless skin condition called an oil cyst, whereupon the natural oil that the body secretes cannot escape due to a blocked pore and builds up under the skin. These are harmless bumps, and have been with my for some time.

However, every once in a while one of them goes... wrong.

A few weeks ago I realized that the oil cyst on my chest was beginning to hurt and as the days progressed it began to hurt even more. This was the same oil cyst that had led me to a doctor many years ago to discover what it was called, whether or not it was harmless and what to do with it. Those many years ago it was inflamed, making it bigger than before and discolored.

But it never hurt before. Not like this.

Finally, I decided to see a skin specialist gave me some cream and antibiotics. The cyst was indeed inflamed and hopefully the antibiotics would help it go down. However I had a gig in a few days and I could barely play my guitar sitting down let alone standing up because the movements of my right hand would trigger the pain from the cyst.

Enter the wonderdrug - arcoxia. The Reverend had recommended them to me when I had my wisdom teeth pulled out as they were the same painkillers he was using when he was getting his tattoo removed. Though they were pricey, they were worth it - non drowsy, lasts over 8 hours and no pain.

But after two weeks, the damn cyst hadn't gone down. In fact, at one point, it had ballooned to twice its size and I couldn't get through the day without the wonderdrug.

Yesterday, I went to the skin specialist again.

The doctor took one look at the cyst and proceeded to tell me that there's too much build up of oil and the only thing that could be done now was to cut it open and release the oil. No sooner had she told me that she opened the door next to her office to reveal a medical chair and various apparatus.

"We're going to do this now?" I wondered, "No appointment for another day, no anaesthetic?"

I sat down on the chair and the doctor pulled out the blade end of a scalpel.

Poke. Ow.

Poke poke. Ow.

SNIKT!!!

I know it was all probably in my head, but I could've sworn I heard this sound, akin to Wolverine sheathing his admantium claws. The sound that followed I'm quite sure wasn't in my head.

AAAARRRGHHH...!!!

Oodles of ooze and slime came out from the cyst, a mixture of oily brown and crimson blood, mostly liquid, some parts quite gooey and solid.

"And now we have to get as much of it out as possible," said the doctor. And then she squeezed the wound.

AAAAARGHH...!! NNNNGGGGHHH...!!!

"And now we need to stuff the wound with gauze in order to soak up the rest of the oil and blood that's in there," said the doctor.

The doctor then took out a length of gauze and a thin metal rod. She began to push. Then,

"The wound isn't big enough," said the doctor, "We're going to have to cut it open some more."

"WHAT?" was my only reply. She pulled out a fresh blade. Here we go again...

SNIKT!!!

AAARGGHH...!!!

"Now we can push the gauze in," said the doctor. Grabbing the metal rod once again.

SQUISH!!!

NNYYAAARRRGGGHH...!!!

I left the doctor's office with my right side in quite a bit of pain... and a slight relief. The pressure of the cyst was gone, replaced with the 'ordinary' pain of having a half inch deep cut in one's chest.

I would need the wonderdrug.

I drove to the pharmacist as best as I could with one arm in a manual car and walked up to the counter to ask for some more arcoxia. The pharmacist asked me to sign a ledger and, as I was signing it, I noticed everyone staring at me. Or, more accurately, staring at my chest.

The blood had seeped through the bandages and was dripping down my body, leaving splotchy blood stains on my shirt. My first thought

"Whoah. John McClane."

"Did you just get back from surgery?" asked the pharmacist.

"Yes," I replied, and proceeded to take my bag of drugs with me so that I could drive off home to rest.

Once there, I took off the shirt and noticed the bandage wasn't sticking on properly. I went to my medi-basket and pulled out some large plasters to try and keep the bandage back on, but after a while there was no use. The blood was still seeping through.

I later went back to the skin specialist with the aid of the Tamagotchi. The doctor opened up the bandage and I saw the hole in my chest for the first time, stuffed with gauze and soaked with blood. The gauze acted as a syphon to draw out as much of the crap inside as possible and it was working.

The doctor then pulled out the gauze in one quick motion.

AAARGGH!!!

I stared at the gauze - it was about six or seven inches long. How the hell did all that fit in the hole in my chest?!

"Ok, now we've got to put a new piece of gauze in," said the doctor.

"Are you serious?" was my only reply. Out came the metal rod once more.

They replaced it with a much larger bandage this time, though the blood still seeped through, enough to make a circular blood patch on the bandage. Henry suggested we spread the rumor that it was a gunshot wound and we almost convinced someone (though I'm sure the ruse did not last long).

Today I went once more to clean the dressing and replace the bandage. Thankfully, there's no longer a need to shove gauze down the wound with a metal rod, though I still have the gaping hole in my chest with a bandage over it. Now I have to clean and dress the wound myself and somehow shower whilst avoiding the wound. At least the pressure of the inflammation is gone. At least there's that.

What's most annoying about all this is the fact that there doesn't seem to be anything to avoid future cysts from popping up. All the doctors seem to say the same thing - if it pops up, it pops up. They're usually harmless.

But when they get inflamed... whoah boy. I am seriously considering getting all my oil cysts removed before any of them get inflamed again.

In the meantime, I for some reason wish that I had video'd the surgery.

Fighters Fight, Drivers Drive, Writers Write

Three days ago, something wonderful happened. It may not seem like much to many but to me it was a revelation, a welcome return, a missing piece of a jigsaw found.

Three days ago, I started writing again.

There was a story that had been in my head for a few years which I'd had a lot of trouble trying to figure out how to start. I'd attempt it every once in a while, knowing there was a story somewhere there, but always deleting whatever I wrote. And yet, three days ago, at some point at night, I figured out a fresh perspective on how to write the damn thing and started going at it, staying up till four in the morning trying to figure out each subsequent scene but not in a stressed out way but with absolute vigour. I wanted to write till that glorious point where I run out of steam but look at the words with a sense of achievement.

It was only 14 pages, but a happy 14 pages nonetheless.

On the same day I also wrote 5 more pages for another script that I was writing last year and had reached the 35 page mark before stopping indefinitely. This feeling of accomplishment was something I hadn't felt in quite a while and it felt good.

Unfortunately the feelings were short-lived. The next day I discovered that the movie I'd been working on for three years wasn't being picked up by the distributor. I knew there was a good chance of this happening and had planned accordingly, but I still found myself feeling rather down about the whole thing.

When I went back to the computer, I couldn't bring myself to type a single word.

The past few nights since then have mostly been spent awake. Perhaps some part of me hoping for a little surge of inspiration to stab me in the brain and get the juices pumping, perhaps it was just from staying up three days ago. Last night was the ultimate in time-wasting-in-the-wee-hours: I watched every episode of the first two seasons of 'How I Met Your Mother'.

In fast forward.

(Believe me, I really wish the above was a joke. It's not.)

The point is, I haven't written anything since that day. True, it's only been a few days, but here's the thing:-

I haven't written like that for almost half a year.

The last time I wrote something that was truly mine a hundred percent was 'Lucky Shot', the short film to test out the Canon 5D Mark II (the 15 Malaysia short, 'Healthy Paranoia', was based on a story by Shirin Jauhari. I was actually at a bind as to what to write until she came up with the idea).

Now, I don't want to live in the past and talk about 'the good old days' but there was a time when I wrote scripts non-stop from the age of 16 all the way till about 26. Ten years of non-stop writing. When it started it was a convergence of all the right elements - my father had bought our first PC for the household (Wow! It's got a gigabyte of hard drive! Oh my God!), I had just discovered the scripts of Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith and the household video camera was at my disposal. I just wrote non-stop, any little idea, even no idea. I'd start up the computer, set a scene in a random location like a cafe and have two people sat there, talking, just to see what they'd say when my fingers took over.

A lot of these scripts are terrible. Absolutely horrid. But it was very good practice because, as any writer will tell you, writers write. You keep writing, never stop writing, always keep the grey matter going, going, going.

And it kept going. I remember when I was in a cafe waiting for a friend and thinking of all the little quirks of pirated VCD's. A story started forming in my head and I started writing down what became a ten page short film in a cheap school exercise book with a ballpoint pen. A few years later this short film was expanded into a little feature length indie flick called 'Ciplak'.

I've often wondered why, after I finally made a feature length film, my frequency of writing dwindled. Slowly at first, then picking up pace till finally, I hardly wrote at all except for sporadic little moments.

When I say write, however, I'm not talking about when I'm hired to write. I'm talking about when I want to write, and there's a big difference. Hired to write is not as difficult because, ultimately, it's not your baby. It's someone else's baby. You're just, at the most, a mid-wife. When I was writing for television, such as Ghost Season 2 or Dark City, I literally wrote those screenplays overnight, sometimes in one sitting. I'd sit for a few hours in front of the computer, smoking cigarettes, staring at the blank screen and thinking subconsciously about the story, then churn it out.

But writing for the sake of writing, simply writing a script because there's a story to tell and characters to develop and something to show and hopefully entertain, that hasn't happened in a long time.

One of the reasons I think this happened is because of a peculiar habit of mine which I'm hoping to this year shake off. I have a tendency, when creating something new, to put my absolute all into it till it occupies my ever waking hour of brain juiciness. But the second I've accomplished the basics of it all, I lose interest.

For example, a few years ago I wanted to build my own guitar. I researched, looked around for parts, learnt to wire and solder the components, did everything I could... till the guitar worked. Then I stopped. The thing is, it's not really finished. The sound could be tweaked more, the playability of the guitar can be improved considerably, only the front half of the guitar is sanded nicely whilst the back looks like Batman's butt with battle scars but the moment I got it to work, I stopped working on it with absolute gusto.

(I like this word, 'gusto'. I must use it more often.)

Same could be said about my one-time stint of stand-up last year. I was worried stiff about it, researched about it, any time my brain wasn't in use I'd use it to try and come up with different routines but the second I did it, I never felt the need to continue doing it. In my brain it was done, accomplished, finished. Let's find something new.

Perhaps the same has happened with my writing and filmmaking. Though I know it is a good trait to constantly want to learn new things, expand the mine and skill-sets and discover strange, new, interesting forms of input (this is why I relate to the 'Short Circuit' movies) but at the same time, I can't be spending the rest of my life learning everything without sticking to something.

I have stuck to something - filmmaking and music. And I don't want to treat them like I did my guitar.

Though the above may account for some of the reason why writing these days is more difficult for me there is another thing. One that bugs me even more.

After 'Ciplak', filmmaking became something feasible as a career. So I hit the film and television industry with the same gusto (hehe, 'gusto') as I did when I was trying to make my first independent feature film. I wrote constantly - screenplays for possible movies, telemovies, TV shows, all of it. I wrote synopsis' and outlines and pitched ideas all around town and discovered the horrible truth about the industry itself which culminated with the day when a producer for a big studio told me something I will never forget,

"If you're script is original or good, we won't buy it."

I've thought long and hard about those words and the many pitches and ideas I've sent out and have a strong feeling that it's this history of rejection that made the news of my film not being picked up a painful one to hear, even though I was expecting it and planned for the worse. That feeling of rejection.

I was incredibly fortunate to have been in a situation where I made my first film with no one expecting a thing and no one to impress to get funding and was even more fortunate that I made it at around the right place and the right time in the way of things that it got released, won an award, kick-started my 'career'.

(I have as much difficulty in saying that what I do is a 'career' in the same way that I have difficulty in referring to myself as an 'artist'. It just feels wrong.)

I have tried these past few years to keep a stiff upper lip about it all. There was a time when I'd get a rejection for a pitch or an idea and laugh and say "fuck it, let's keep writing," but I guess after hearing rejection after rejection it gets a bit harder to keep that thick skin up. After a while a tiny part of you starts believing that maybe you're not that good.

Then there's the fact that now that I've seen what the industry 'wants', what the industry will 'allow', what the do's and don't's are, these things start affecting the writing. Whereas once I would write without a thought of all this, nowadays I find myself not just self-censoring myself, but laying un-required boundaries because at the back of my head I'm thinking, "just in case I get a possible opening for financing, I should make sure that there's a chance that this script can go through the censorship board/get wajib tayang status/has a role for Mawi".

These thoughts are somehow ingrained in me from the years of pitching to people who's automatic response to everything I write is "it's a bit too clever, lah".

A lot of times I try to hold back from talking about stuff like this because there is that feeling that I'm not allowed to feel this way. I am, in the grand scheme of things, one lucky motherfucker, and it's such a cliche for a lucky motherfucker such as myself to moan my good fortune - "Oh, no, I made a movie and it allowed me to become a filmmaker and now I don't know what to write about! Woe is me, it's so depressing! Bring on the cocaine and other abusive substances so that I may be a walking cliche! Quick, hide the rotting pain inside by acting like a complete douchebag!" Etcetera, etcetera...

In truth, I am forever grateful to God, the universe, karma, whatever it is that makes this world go 'round, for giving me this opportunity. I truly am. For fuck's sake, in the past six months I've worked an average of a week or two each month to earn my wages, that's good living. Hell, any job where you can feasibly do your work in your boxers is a good job.

(And before anyone asks, it's the stuff done in front of the computer like writing or editing. I don't turn up on set in my undies).

But I guess, these past few months, I've also felt a bit... unfulfilled. The creative juices are at their best when I'm shooting something I want to shoot, based on a script that I wanted to write. Not because I had to, not because I'm hoping to sell it, I just wanted to.

And here's the rub - I know it's there. Somewhere, in the back of my head, stories that I want to write. It was a lot smaller before, but it's gotten a bit bigger, just a bit, and soon it's gonna pop out. I know it's gonna pop out. I can feel it trying to climb out of the mass of bullshit, the many walls built up in that brain of mine from years of "it's too clever", "too much dialogue" and "I don't think local audiences will get it". It's desperately trying to claw it's way out of all that crap back there.

One thing I've always felt was true is that there's a big difference in 'knowing' and 'believing'. You can know that you have what it takes, but you may not believe it. And it's only when you believe it that you truly shine.

I know it's there. I just need to get the believing part right. Perhaps that's why I wrote this post - to let out all the rant-y stuff inside whilst simultaneously trying to convince myself.

Or perhaps I wrote this post because I needed to write. Whether good or bad, published or un-published, necesarry or frivolous, meaningful or pointless, writer's must write.

I wonder what I'm going to write next?








Whatever it is, I sure hope I'll write it with gusto.

Hehe.

Eighty-Eight Miles Per Hour is Approximately 140 Kilometers Per Hour...

...which was roughly the speed of the car in front of me but, instead of kicking in the flux capacitor sending the car back to the future, it flew directly into a billboard.

I was on my way back to the Hub from my parents house. They were away for the weekend so I figured I'd sleep in the Hub since I had a meeting nearby the next day. As I was driving past Plaza Damansara and getting on the road leading to Taman Tun a dark red hatchback was speeding behind me (can't remember whether it was a Renault or a Peugeot, but one of those) and heading my way.

Now when I say it was heading my way, I don't mean it was heading in the same direction. It was literally heading towards me, my car, at 140 km/h and was not changing course, so much so that I swerved out of the way in order to avoid an accident and, from the looks of the line the guy made after passing me, would probably have turned out to be an accident and a fatal one at that.

The dark red hatchback turned down the toll free path which has a few traffic lights which probably explained why, as I was nearing Taman Tun, I saw the same car whiz past me again, this time with a light grey car behind it, tailgating it. I may be wrong, maybe it wasn't the same car, but the color, shape and erratic driving at high speeds made it seem exactly like the car that I narrowly avoided a collision with.

I watched this dark red hatchback zoom off in front of me, passing the Caltex, and I remember thinking to myself something along the lines of,

"You keep driving like that and you're just asking for an accident to happen."

A few seconds later, I heard a bang. As the red hatchback passed by the exit to the Damansara Specialist Hospital the driver hadn't noticed that the road was not straight but curved to the right and drove straight into the curb which, at that speed, propelled it upwards into the billboard, crumbling both the large advertisement and the dark red hatchback as it slammed into the wall behind it.

It took a few moments to register and by the time it did I was already passed it and couldn't feasibly turn back. I watched from the rear view mirror as the driver of the light grey car rushed out towards the dark red hatchback... with a walkie-talkie. Why was he on a walkie-talkie? Who was he walkie-talkie-ing too?

At the same time another car that was also pulled over to the side had also stopped, but not slowly like a curious bystander interested in gawking and getting down the license plate but braked quickly in an emergency stop at the side of the road and four people rushed out to the car as if they knew the guy.

What was going on?

I had already turned the road and no longer had any sight of the crash but my mind was still trying to process everything that had just happened - who were these people? Why did the guy have a walkie-talkie? How spooky is it that it happened just a few seconds after I thought to myself that the car would have an accident? What if I hadn't swerved out of the way when I first saw the car?

I have seen a lot of people drive way too fast down that stretch and I have also seen the aftermath of many accidents there, around the same corner. I know a few people who enjoy driving fast or aspire to race but I also know these people to drive safely.

I hope all of you who read this do the same. 'Cos there's a lot of people out there that don't.

So This Is How It Ends.

One can only hold on to hope for so long. Hope for things to get better, hope for things to progress, hope for reciprocation, hope for the future, whatever. One can hope and dream that maybe, just maybe, things will work out. One hopes, and holds on to that hope till the questions are answered and one finds out whether or not it's the answer one was hoping for.

It's like an incredibly long hand of Texas poker - huge, repetitious, arduous and stretched out bets that take forever before the next card is turned, and all you've got is a Jack high. Not big enough to warrant such a risky bet, but enough to make you at least think you have a fighting chance. But it's a risk. A huge risk and the only outcome in this game is to either win the entire pot or lose everything.

The river card was finally dealt tonight and before it turned I had a hundred and one opportunities to fold and I didn't. I didn't because it felt good. I didn't because I really wanted to win that pot. I didn't even though I knew all the odds were against me because I'd rather take that chance, no matter how slight, than risk never making the bet in the first place.

The river card was dealt, and I was left with what I'd started with - Jack.

I'd played this game before and though the bets were bigger then and the chances of winning were at least a little bit higher I wasn't playing the cards I was dealt with right. Not one bit. And I had some good cards at the best of times. But I raised when I should've folded and folded when I should've stayed in. I never went all in like I did this time, just slowly lost my chips and left confused and upset, wondering how I could've played those hands so stupidly.

This time I only had enough for one bet. One big bet. So I went all in. And whilst the turning of each card took forever and the rest of the players took their time to keep on raising I sat there and waited with my Jack high. I only had one chance and I only had one bet and I went all in on the same game I'd lost before for being reckless.

Some would say I hadn't learnt my lesson from the last game. Many would question my actions, pointing out it's a big risk. But here's the thing - I had learnt my lesson from the last game, in a way that only life knows how to teach you. Yes, it was a big risk. A huge risk, with just a Jack of Hearts as my highest card, not much to bet with but going all in anyway. But this time it was a risk I was willing to take and went all in knowing full well the consequences of losing the hand. This wasn't like last time, when I had no idea how much I was actually losing till the chips were all gone. This was, in retrospect, relatively simple:

This is the hand life has dealt me. It's not much, but I'm not folding.

And I lost. I lost big time. I found myself at the table with my Jack of Hearts and watching all my chips disappear. And though I lost the hand in a move that I had never calculated nor foreseen would happen, I knew there was the risk of losing it all.

I went all in and I lost. And it's very upsetting. It hurts deeply. It fills me with sadness and rage and loss and pain... but unlike last time, I am not filled with regret.

I had lost before. Lost in a way that would keep any ordinary person as far from that table as possible. But I picked myself up, slowly garnered as many chips as I could, straightened my tie, sat on that same table and ante'd up again. I knew the risks involved. I knew there was a chance of losing, especially with just a Jack of Hearts, but I ante'd up when others wouldn't have even stepped back up and I went all in because I knew that if I didn't I would have spent the rest of my life regretting it. I would have spent the rest of my days wondering "what if", no matter how much better my life could have been if I didn't go back to that same table and played the same game.

I went back to that table because it was worth it, regardless of what anyone else says. It was worth it. And if I had won I would have been the happiest man alive and I don't regret for one second taking that chance to be that man.

Like I said, it hurts. I wish it didn't. I wish that, with all the knowledge I had and the lessons learnt from the last game that it wouldn't hurt, but it does. But it hurts more to regret not taking that chance. To be bombarded with thoughts of what the outcome could've been.

The table's now closed, and I don't know if it'll open up again. If it does and I've got enough chips and the mood and circumstance is right, I may take that chance once again. Because it's worth it, even if the dealer doesn't think so.

I went all in with a Jack of Hearts and lost. And this is how it ends.

The Creatures of The Hub

There are many creatures at The Hub. After all, it is an old house, I have not always been there and there have been times when no humans have been here for years, so it is unsurprising that a variety of creatures have also called The Hub their home.

In previous posts you would have heard of the rat basterds who have now passed on to rat heaven (I would assume they'd only go to rat hell if they did things against their nature). But these aren't the only creatures that have been found in The Hub.

Most Malaysian houses have geckos. This is not uncommon. However, often times residents try to kill the geckos. I don't mind the geckos, as I'm sure they keep the insect population low. In fact, there's one gecko in particular who stands out from the others hear in The Hub.

His name is Gordon, and he's about nine inches long from head to tail.

I shit you not. I have not seen a household gecko that big. Perhaps the fact that I don't bother him has led him to grow in size, unhampered by the common dangers of living in a house where the rubber band gun is not applied to lizard-kind. The only issue I have with Gordon is that sometimes he can be very loud with his "ACK-ACK-ACK" sounds. But often times all I have to do is tell him to be quiet and he does so.

See, creatures like Gordon are not a problem. There is a mutual respect. We agreed that we could co-habitat together and that's what we do. No problem, no fuss.

The neighboring cats, on the other hand, are a different kettle of fish.

Now, before any of you cat lovers start, I love cats. LOVE 'em. In this very house that is now The Hub I owned three when I was a wee child and they were named Timothy I, Timothy II and Timothy III (this was, of course, before originality set in). A few years ago before this house became The Hub I took in a stray named Tommy who had huge furry balls. There are cats at my parents house. There have been cats in my life since before I was born and still in the womb.

But none of them were as rude as the neighbors cats.

The first one to be rude was the Giant Grey Furball. I was chillin' with the boys downstairs when I heard the Tamagotchi call out for me from above. There in the house by the window was the Furball, like a grey bowling ball that was sprayed with adhesive and thrown across a carpet showroom that reminded me of Martin Tenbones from the 'A Game of You' story arc in the Sandman comics.

  

Can't you see the resemblance?!

I wondered what the problem was. The Tamagotchi loved cats too. Then the fucker growled at us.

Before anyone starts, it did not hiss. I know what a cat hiss sounds like and this one didn't hiss. It fucking GROWLED, like a lion. I tried to approach it and it jumped off and headed downstairs. And no, it did not run like a nervous cat that was afraid of unfamiliar surroundings, no. It sauntered. It sauntered away, wiggling it's huge, grey ass with an assured pompous confidence that said, "fuck you, buddy, I'll leave when I frickin' feel like it." Finally, we managed to get the furball out the door before it tried to claim territory on my amplifiers.

Then there are the greedy hiss family that hangs out behind the kitchen comprising of one mother and a bunch of kittens. This group likes to hang out in the back garden, wait till I start cooking, then start meowing like crazy, trying to get in the house to eat. Ordinarily I would take these cats in as my own if it weren't for two things:-

1. They belong to one of the neighbors.
2. They are fucking rude.

The fact that they belong to one of the neighbors either means their owner isn't feeding them enough or they're simply greedy bastards. But it's the rudeness that bugs me the most. For some reason the mother has it in her head that being nice is not required when it comes to getting food from a complete stranger, so she instead hisses at me whenever I get close, even if it is to give food, then meows when I'm far away. Her children have now picked up the same habit. In the words of Bush Snr, this will not stand. This aggression will not stand.

Wait, was that quote from Bush or the Dude from the Big Lebowski?

The final cat that's been bugging me, however, takes the cake. He's a gorgeous cat, no question about it. Beautiful fur and eyes yet its masculinity is still there. Tamagotchi likes to call it a metrosexual cat. And ordinarily he would be welcome... if he was nice.

But no. He's not nice. Firstly, he's timid and doesn't want to become friends. That's fine by me, he belongs to someone else. But it doesn't stop there. He then lays fresh turds around my garden and driveway and pees everywhere. Including Tamagotchi's car.

That's the fucker right there. He was sat there for the longest time in a pose that can only be described as "this is my house, bitches" but the second I picked up the camera he walked away... and took a dump in my garden. Little bastard.

I have never encountered so many rude cats in one place before and it baffles me. Though it does not change my perception of cats it does upset me quite a bit to see these domesticated cats grow up to be so arrogant and pompous. Perhaps I should get my own cat to claim the house as its own. Perhaps indeed...

First Gig of the Year...

...and I'm hella lookin' forward to it.

So I got an SMS from Pete Teo, asking if Rollin' Sixers would like to play at No Black Tie (that's him there in the pic above with me in Pusan where we both look... fucked). I was excited. The last time we played NBT we were playing acoustic, now we get to play our set the way we usually do.

He then told me we'd be sharing the bill with a Japanese band - even cooler.

I later found out the band was none other than Doc Holiday and Apache Train.

When I was in the band with the Angry Fat Man where we wore masks we played the Fat Festival in Thailand which had a whole bunch of cool indie bands from around the world as well as Thai. One of those bands was Doc Holiday and I'm telling you now - if you're not gonna come to the show to watch my band or Pete play, at least come to watch these guys. They not only have a kick-ass sound, they have back-up dancers.

And these back-up dancers are skeletons. That picture above? That skeleton ain't just for show. Someone stands behind it and dances the thing.

On top of that you've got Pete Teo bringing the acoustic stylee and it's sure to be a kick ass night.

The gig's on the 16th at No Black Tie at 9.30pm. Tickets are RM30. More details about the bands can be found at Pete's blog.

A Nightmare After New Years

There is wrongness in my brain.

The picture above is of my new journal that I bought at Kinokuniya. In it, written with the fountain pen I also bought at Kinokuniya, are the scribblings and notes of a terrible dream I had. A dream of which I shall describe to you soon.

Last night I couldn't sleep. Not a wink. My body was exhausted, I knew it needed rest, but the brain flat out refused - all night it kept thinking of random things to keep me awake. Nothing important, nothing of value, just absolute randomness, tick-tick-ticking away in my cranium. This non-stop brain activity was probably the result of some incredibly good home made coffee I had earlier I had at a friend's parents' house - a sneaky coffee concoction that sprung upon me hours later as I lay in bed, trying to sleep.

By 6am I still hadn't fallen asleep. The soothing sound of the Clerks X 2nd disc commentary did not help quieten down my brain and I spent an hour searching for emulators and roms for classic console games.

Finally, at around 7am, I managed to fall asleep...

...but not for long.

I was awoken by the Tamagotchi by phone at 10.30am for a brief conversation of lunch plans. I then told her the effects of her father's coffee and she laughed heartily. Then, back to sleep went I...

...into an odd and disturbing nightmare filled with friends, celebrities and creepy crawlies.

The dream started with me back as an advertising copywriter once again. I was doing my work at a hotel for some reason and using the business center to get my work done. At some point I bumped into Justin who was also, for some reason, working in advertising except his workload was insane and he couldn't cope. I gave him some advice and stepped out to a large field where I was to play a gig.

So far, not too trippy.

I got to the stage to discover that the rest of my bandmates weren't there. For some reason, I had Eddy's blues harps and Qahar appeared out of nowhere, looking at the blues harps with glee but before he had a chance to grab them and play a tune the rest of the band appeared.

The gig was being hosted by Navsta from Traxx FM. Az was playing the gig too. As the gig started, I realized I forgot what slot we were so I checked and discovered we were sixth - sixth slot for the Sixers, it seems.

It is then that I realized I was wearing a pair of women's open toe pumps.

Seeing that this would be inappropriate for the stage, I went over to my car to change my shoes to my usual ES skate shoes when a transvestite appeared who wanted to try the pumps on. I shooed him/her away and we got into a discussion of sociological gender issues. I then proceeded to get into the car to continue putting my shoes on.

That's when I accidentally released the hand brake.

The car was parked on a hill and I rolled down and managed to stop and park it in front of a small cart selling drinks and things. The vendor looked at me with disgust. That's when I realized I was now, for some reason, Eminem.

And I had no trousers on.

No trousers, no underpants, just a big tracksuit hoodie with the Eminem 'E' logo on the front and a pair of running shoes. And for some reason I was meant to be running a marathon back uphill to the hotel. I continued on, running up the hill, annoyed at the lack of trousers and my tackle dangling out in the air, swinging to and fro like a policeman's truncheon (or a limp herring, take your pick) and at times attempting to run the marathon whilst tucking it in between my legs which didn't help in the slightest.

Somehow, I managed to finish the marathon to find a number of female senior citizens waiting at the finish line for a glimpse of my googly-bits, so I rushed off to the back where I somehow transformed into a female 50's detective/scientist, complete with opening theme credits and music in 50's black and white animation.

That's when an aging Sylvester Stallone fell into my arms.

Stallone was carrying a poster of 'Rocky' with the words "I punched my way to the top" scribbled on it. I too had a poster which had the words "I pumped my way to the top" (I'm not sure what movie poster it was, but I think it might have been 'Rosemary's Baby').

As Stallone fell into my arms, I realized I was no longer in the hotel but on a small wooden fishing boat. The others on the boat were Stallone's Indonesian maid, the prawn-alien from 'District 9' and a gigantic maggot-like creature that was also an alien.

They both looked very annoyed.

It turned out Stallone had a brain eating baby maggot in his head. It was the future, and Stallone was part of a team that stopped evil alien life forms from taking over. The two aliens on the boat were made to help Stallone with his missions by force.

It turned out the gigantic maggot-like creature was psychic, so we asked it to show us what happened to Stallone. The camera zoomed into the maggot mouth to reveal that inside the maggot had, in fact, the head of an evil-looking owl who's penetrating gaze read people's thoughts.

And soon that wasn't the only camera move to appear in my dream (for those not in the know, my dreams are often very cinematic but never in colour).

We flashback to Stallone on his last mission, inspecting the water tunnels of a space station that had been under attack. Suddenly, from the walls, hundreds of slimy worm-like aliens from the movie 'Slither' started creeping their way down the walls of the water tunnel. Stallone tried to shoot them with his lazer gun but there was too many of them.

Cut to Stallone running down the tunnel as Hans Zimmer style music blasted through the speakers of my mind. More of the Slither worms came crawling down from the cracks, all of them intent on killing Sly Stallone. And, oh, by the way, the water in the tunnels have just been released. Stallone turns behind him as he runs to see a wall of water crashing down, coming straight towards him. Up ahead, a tiny duct but the Slither worms are all heading for it to stop Stallone at the pass. The water gets closer, Stallone starts shooting up ahead at the worms blocking his way, the water sweeps him up with a huge gush and he slides straight through into the duct barely missing the Slither worms!

Stallone, a lump on the ground, catches his breath when suddenly there's a little drop on his head. Then another. He turns up and sees that tiny little brain-eating baby maggots are above him on the ceiling and they start dropping rapidly on his head, a huge mass of disgusting, wriggling, gooey wormy bits all falling onto his skull...

...and I have a SEVERE phobia of worms.

With this final scene, I woke up very suddenly and incredibly fucking shocked out of my skull. It was 1.30pm in the afternoon and I was breathing heavily, my skin sensitive to every sensation, the thought of the wriggling bastards still in my head...

...and I wondered what the fuck was wrong with my psyche.