Modern-day minstreling

Hark - dost not hear?
The time of reckoning is near
Steel on steel doth itself shear
The time is come, the time is here

Muster thee all thou holdst dear
Tell them all to have no fear
For though thou art but mortal mere
For the task thou hast no peer

Now is the time! For thou art geared
To face the beast that e'en leers
Spill the ichor, gold and clear
And tell thy beloved,

...

"This is good beer!"


Complete with shoddy Photoshop. =o

My personal demon of the moment. Lovely stuff. Makes the other beers curl up into a small whimpering ball.

Simi Mia?

To be fair, it's quite logical that the further we progress, the more things will already have been done. But to be vindictive, count the number of recent films that aren't sequels, based off a novel, a play, comic book superheroes or a remake of a classic.

...used the other hand yet?

So we were on our way to see Proof, another one of those critically acclaimed, powerful and stirring movies that tend to bore me shitless. Yes, yes, no art in my soul and all that. But Proof was quite well done. At least it didn't pretend to be funny, like Sideways. Comedy of the year my sweet, yellow...

But hey, what do I know. My idea of funny is Jackie Chan saying, "What's up, my nigger?".

We walk past the promotional cardboards for the upcoming Pink Panther movie and the missus tugs my arm. "Look! My future son's name!" she says. Yes, she wants to name her son Pink Panther.

No argument from me. Bad enough being Chinese and one of those with a common surname. The angs have it good - the possibilities are endless. Lurking on the SomethingAwful forums, I read a thread about names. Someone knew of a person with the middle name, "Needs More Nutmeg". There were sweet names around like...Davian Blood, I think. Also names that produce a bitter cynic by the age of 12, like Justin Time and Justin Case.

"...what? Heh, heh. You mean like Just-In..."

"OH YOU ARE SO VERY FUNNY SIR I HAVE NEVER HAD THAT POINTED OUT TO ME AT ALL I MUST GO TELL ALL MY FRIENDS SO THEY CAN LAUGH TOO pleased to meet you too."

Enough of the Johns and Bens, eh? Pink Panther should get my future son laid more often than me. ...or turn him flaming homosexual. Either way, he'll be a hit at parties.

"Pink Panther Lim," she says softly to herself. "You decide the Chinese name ok?"

Some of us are just born with this spirit of one-upsmanship. I decided to see her Pink Panther and raise her...

"Sure. Lim Beh Ka Li Gong. Pink Panther Lim Beh Ka Li Gong."

Oh he'll go through some tough formulative years. But what don't kill'im only make'im strongah, yo?



P.P Lim is surrounded by some older boys in his first year of high-school equivalent. They look tough as nails, but are friendly blokes.

"Hello, we's from the rugby team," says one shaven-headed boy with a scar across his face. He flexes a bicep for emphasis. "We's looking for some new players this year - what your name, mate?"

P.P Lim has this sinking, sinking feeling.

"Uh, thanks guys but Rugby's not really my thing..."

"Oh no worries eh? We around if youse ever interested. Name's Pete. Me friends call me Killer." Cue appreciative grunts from the team. "You are?" he smiles, revealing two gaps in his teeth.

"...anther," P.P mumbles.

"Huzzat mate? Anthony?"

"...pink..panther"

The mood flickers. The gap-toothed smile is gone.

"We just trying to be friendly mate. What's your name?"

"Ok, ok, Lim."

"No need to be like that about it. Your proper name."

Resigned, P.P takes a deep breath and says, "Lim Beh Ka Li Gong."

Brows furrow. The group advances. "Oh you think youse funny, eh?"

Just before the group closes in, P.P mumbles under his breath, "No, but my father thinks he's a fucking comedian," and puts his arms over his head.


...I insist it's funny. For what help it is, "Lim Beh Ka Li Gong" translates as "I, your father, am telling you" in Hokkien.

Um.

This does not bode well for my offspring.

Requiem.

She was different.

The rest of them are tools. To facilitate. To entertain. A means to an end.

She was a part of my life. I came home to her. Woke up to her. Bemusedly said goodbye to her each time I left my house. A secret silliness only she would ever know.

I knew her temperments, her every nuance. What she could do or would try to, for me. She had her limits, but their boundaries were enough for my simple wants. My...needs.

I suppose I should have seen the signs. All those times when it looked like the end was near. But we always found a way out. Unconventional, unorthodox way that defied logic - but we never cared about what other people thought as long as we were together.

And now...she's gone.

The moment of parting was poignant in its mundanity. A day like every other; spending time together like we always did. Then, she just froze.

It had happened before. Things I find nondescript would affect her adversely. I left her to cool off and we picked up where we were, after a few false starts. What happened hung over us uncomfortably. I tried to bury it, doing things we normally did, but when I turned to her again...

It was over. Things could never be the same between us again.




So yes, my computer finally died on me.
I haven't examined it carefully yet, but it's a fair bit over a thousand dollars, should I need to get a new one.

And that makes me a sad, sad goat.

Meow Mix.

It's like the civilised world has selective amnesia towards the end of the year.

Everyone gets so psyched. "HAPPY NEW YEAR!", we exclaim to each other. There is global revelry as we celebrate the end of the previous year and the beginning of a new one. People queue for hours to get into NEW YEAR PARTAYs at clubs and such, hoping for a night of drunken debauchery.

Post party, we enter the new year with hope, joy and happiness. We resolve to be better people. This is the year where everything will change for the better!

Of course, it all lasts about two days before we realize we're really in exactly the same shit as before. Funny things, people.

It hasn't really been a rousing start, for me. Work to do by the truckload, running on broke far earlier than I should be and already she and I have fought. This isn't another whinentry, though. No, no.

There's something about the route I take to the bus stop on the way to work. The mind rustles with the abstract and absurd and I'm quite likely to run smack into a car someday. Today though, I was thinking about cats.

Lovely creatures. Dogs are all that, but cats are where it's at.
Matter of fact, it'd be great to be a cat!


Oh to be a cat!
Like that, like that
No worries
No hurries
Just plush-paw paddies


I could be a kitten
With little kitten mittens
And the softest downy fur
That you would love, for sure


Or a sleek, stealthy prowler
Wouldn't that be dapper
I'd stalk my prey, crouch and wait
And make him what I ate


I'd never be unhappy
Unhappy is unkitty
I'd have no bills, no tests to fail
And I could chase my tail!


Oh to be a cat!
Like that, like that
But not the one
The car squashed flat



Here's hoping your year got off to a better start than mine.