Your Opinion Does Not Matter
This is the song I let you listen to just now, Honey. I have always loved this song; it’s about something I have always wanted. A simple love.
I want to be holding your hand like this and not let go
Can love be simple without hurt?
You
Are leaning on my shoulder
You
Are sleeping on my chest
Like this kind of life
I love you
You love me
image – BBC
Totally perplexed.
This flight was under the command of a very senior aircraft captain with close to 20 years of service with BA. The plane crash-landed just near a periphery road.
The pilot claimed that he had lost power. An airport taxi driver saw the aircraft approaching too low. I am sure both pilot and co would have seen the runway’s VASI, and Heathrow’s ILS would have warned them if their guideslope was not correct.
The investigators would now have to take into account meteorological events such as headwind (if it was a windshear, the B777’s on-board computer would have given out an audible windshear warning) – but it would have to be a really strong one (headwind) to have made the aircraft stall and land outside the threshold of the runway. Next would be to eliminate pilot error or technical aspects.
Maybe the pilot saw a shortcut on the periphery road and tried to take that…
I received this SMS yesterday:
I love yr batik n lingam posts but tak sempat nak comment since rushing today. Hurrah, SD d blogger that I used to admire is finally back! 🙂
I certainly hope so…
“So shall I book the pool tomorrow plus equipment for you?”
“Hmm…yes,” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing my scalp, one of her favourite waste of time. “I want you to teach me buoyancy and how to take photos underwater.”
“Okay, that leaves us with what to do tomorrow night then,” I replied back.
“Oh, mom called just now saying she might want to sleep here tomorrow because she is going off on Sunday,” she just remembered. “You know what that means, right?”
“That someone has to sleep in the middle then?” I replied with an innocent tone.
She laughed out loud.
That’s me up there in a Temuan tribe village during an inter-village blowpipe marksmen competition. I came second and still have the prized “mengkuang crown.”
It was in December 1981 when I first encountered the Temiars and the Semais. I was awaiting my SRP (now PMR) results and had followed the 20th Battalion of the Police Field Force for their annual war exercise. Part of the exercise was to win the hearts and minds of the orang asli by staying in their villages. I was assigned to go under ‘B’ Coy under (then) Inspector Junaidi Mas’ud (last I heard he was a Supritendant somewhere in Selangor). The other company was ‘C’ Coy under (then) Inspector Idris Abdul Ghafar.
There were two Orang Asli battalions then: the 19th (now re-assigned as Special Duties Battalion to protect sensitive installations and VVIP residences) and the 20th (now disbanded). They were called the ‘Senoi Praaq’ (pronounced as SEN-OI PRAAQ or WAR PEOPLE in Temiar) battalions.
My first few days with the Temiar people were full of funny memories. I remember the first thing I was asked by several Temiar elders were “Kelau hak rayak ke ames?”
Now how was I supposed to answer that one? I won’t translate what it means but it is sufficient to know that they wanted to know the size of my member. Luckily I answered correctly.
In another episode, I was taught the wrong way to ask for water from a village beau. I asked this sweet thing “Hak sengglok ma yek?” I got a tight slap instead. However, the Batin ‘reserved’ her for me in case I decided to marry the girl later.
Of course I could now speak not only Temiar, but also Semai (Perak ones) and Temuan (Pahang/Selangor ones); but am more proficient in Temiar and Temuan.
The Temiar are a bunch of happy people. It was fun to see them carrying out their lives from day to day, and I grew to love the sound of their nasal woodwind (seruling hidung), and of course, the Sewang. In the highlands, these barebreasted dancing beauties would look very much like Raquel Welch after several rounds of downing homebrewed moonshine.
I miss those days…kids and dogs…people greeting me “Selamat Yehyah” or “Selamat La’ag” or “Selamat Layeg“, “Oi! Sen-oi gop! Hak elok gah?” and I would reply back, “Yek gah meyj! Hak hojja acak ong?”; or Macam malok hak?”. The reply would come as a simple “Meyj!”
It’s 3.26am already. Layeg doh yim hord babok tok elek kerenja’erh. Yek lasenu doh, nok sengglok. Babok tok mok. Ne sen-oi aje erh.
Heut lah. Selamat layeg!
Eh? Selamat Yehyah!
Yes…it was me Lingam was talking to that fateful day. We were discussing the appointment of certain judges as well as those shortlisted to become the next Chief Justice. But as Lingam’s counsel had said, the voice and face in the video may be that of Lingam’s. In the age of digital recordings and editings, that seems plausible.
I told Lingam that I knew whose name were in the list and that certain characters had to be stopped. Otherwise it would be difficult to get out of a parking ticket court case even. Lingam just stood there and said nothing. When I told him that the new CJ had to be Ahmad Fairuz for fear that judge Malek would be an anti-establishment figure, he said nothing too.
To me, Lingam is just one dumb person. He never said anything about my suggestions. Instead he stared blankly.
In the end I took his cap off, held him by the neck, turned him outside down and poured the Lingam chilli sauce onto a side plate so I can dip my fish crackers in it.
Newton’s view on time was opposed by the likes of Leibniz and Kant. Time is so mysterious that temporal movements have long occupied technologists and astronomers alike. Although periodic movements and periodic events have long become the standard basis of calculating time, men wanted something more precise (again – time) and introduced the certain number of hyperfine transitions of the caesium atoms to regulate the second measurement. This is how the SI defines the second:
The second is the duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium 133 atom
Very confusing for a layman like you and I perhaps. But even Einstein was confused. Einstein showed that if time and space is measured using electromagnetic phenomena (like light bouncing between mirrors) then due to the constancy of the speed of light, time and space become mathematically entangled together in a certain way (called Minkowski space) which in turn results in Lorentz transformation and in entanglement of all other important derivative physical quantities (like energy, momentum, mass, force, etc) in a certain 4-vectorial way.
After reading and researching what time really is, I have come to one final conclusion:
That TIME…is a magazine.
This is a song I used to listen to back in 2001. At that time, I was in my Proton Saga on the hilly road between Ampang Tambahan heading towards Hulu Langat…it was a dark night. I stood outside my car looking at the lights of the city of KL.
Little did I know that one day the lyrics of this song actually reflects a huge part of my life.
This is An Jing (Silence) by Jay Chou from his album Fantasy.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ?
The rest, you get someone who speaks Mandarin to translate the song for you.
Yeah…I heard that song playing.
Buddhist Babe was lying on her tummy listening to this song. Her top part naked, bottom half covered by the white duvet.
Hang on! Isn’t my babe a Catholic?
Oh no. This is the Buddhist Babe. And this is a special request from her.
I walked to the side of the bed nearest to her. “What’s wrong, Babe?” I asked, stroking her hair gently.
“I just feel sad my man broke my heart into pieces,” she said in a sad tone.
“But I’m here at your request,” I began.
She turned to look at me and held my hand.
“Will you unbreak my heart, please?” she asked softly.
Well, I hate to tell her the truth. To unbreak a heart isn’t easy. But I can start stuffing glue-like stuff inside her. Might glue back her heart too.
If Uthayakumar were to tell the HINDRAF people that he is actually British and can no longer join them or support them, he would be cleansed royally by the latter.
Today we have another traitor to the cause in our midst.
When I met him for lunch, he was all casual but apprehensive, and tried breaking the ice to me by starting his conversation about how my Ibu sends her son to the same place as his. Maybe he thought breaking the ice would be better than me breaking his head straight away before he could finish his pathetic nasi goreng with telur dadar.
His name is Azlan Chao – the man who sold his Az. So from now on, he is known only as Lan Chao…then again, that is what we’ve been calling him since he wanted to ride on his younger brother’s fame (Jay Chao) but at the same time look like his elder brother, the MB for Pahang, Adnan Yaakob.
I remember during fasting month, he was dishing out his business card to us at Khalifah stating that he would never climb up Uptown Two again because he might catch ringworms (kurap). I guess the periphery clinics will be laughing to the bank after this treating him for that skin disease.
Neils, Fuad, Ah Keong, Sharifuddin, Shaking Lee, Taukeh Dora Dora, Walking Vibrator, Oneon and all alumni members as well as current members, please leave your most explicit comments for this posting. Describe him the best as you can.
The proof
Now he has no excuse not to play golf with me ever again.
SeaDemon Says 
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