Hic Sunt Dracones

the smylere with the knyf under the cloke

Posts Tagged ‘quotes

Old Wound

leave a comment »

The Nyonya One

I bought a few bottle of homemade Baba Nyonya’s sambal udang at this restaurant near my office. They served authentic Portuguese dishes too — as far as I know, I never know much about Mediterranean cuisine.

I was hoping to give it to your mum this Tuesday. I never did visit your parent after I got back from offshore last December 2009. January and February were hectic too, as I’m outstation a lot (Singapore mostly). March seemed to be kind to me. Then again, I did try on that fateful December.

Reading your entry about your dad (chemotherapy for the nasopharyngeal cancer), ridden me with guilt — knowing that my absence for months being offshore was hard for you.

I was never there for you — to console and to hold you, to whisper that everything shall be alright.

It’s a void, ready to be filled.

I’m contemplating of visiting your dad, but after reading this entry — maybe I shouldn’t (and to bring a bottle of sambal udang would be astoundingly rude — because of the mouth ulcer).

Even if I did, I’ll be nothing more than an unwanted ghost of the past — and a phantom I should be.

+++

…He has severe attachment issues. Coping mechanism simply do not operate on an adult level, it is as though in his own mind, he can’t get past age six…

…At the very least, you could appreciate his conviction, even when it doesn’t reflect your own…
…We can revel in our past glories, but to relive them is unnecessary…
…Bitterness and blind faith, with a shot of guilt for catalyst…
…I stopped being an observer and become a witness. I’ve got the evidence… now where’s the court?…
…After the first couple of kicks, you don’t feel any pain, just thing breaking inside. Battered by abomination…
…I’m cold, chilled to the marrow.

Is that you Garth Ennis? Jamie Delano?

You make John Constantine (Hellblazer) chokes my own pitiful mind.

Now, should I listen to my conscience or succumb to my ego?

Written by cthulhu

March 15, 2010 at 1:38 am

Then Said Almitra, “Speak to Us of Love”

leave a comment »

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

— Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931), The Prophet

Written by cthulhu

October 16, 2009 at 2:43 am

How Shall I Remember Monday, 12th October 2009?

with 4 comments

Solitary

Solitary

3 months of Pipelaying Project in Miri (ongoing).

3 days of UWILD inspection under Bureau Veritas in Labuan.

6 months of relationship.

1 break-up.

Sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs.
How to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t. The ones who will stay from the ones who will leave.

— He’s Just Not That Into You (2009) via Bianca’s entry

Funny. When I commented on Bianca’s entry, it was meant for Ebb, not Sue.

The day after, it looks like I’m still “inside the blind spot”.

The reason?

The haunting of past memory — made anew — fueling the distrust, basking in its flame.

+++

P.S.: I never watch the movie, of which the quote comes from.

Written by cthulhu

October 13, 2009 at 2:02 pm

Remembering Our Other Half – India

leave a comment »

Event: TheOtherMalaysia (Dr. Farish Ahmad Noor) lecture on the ties that bind India & South East Asia.

Location: The Annexe Gallery, Central Market Annexe.

Here's to the ones who see things differently

Case Study: Javanese/Balinese

The Malay Hindu cultivate their Indo-Hindu culture more as an empty ritual than a doctrine. Much like Malay in Malaysia with the wedding ritual and the sultanate custom. Form without the actual substances of Hindu God.

+++

Event: Amir Muhammad launches Malaysian Politicians Say the Darndest Things (Vol 2).

Location: The Annexe Gallery, Central Market Annexe.

Amir Muhammad and Fahmi Reza are at the launch of “Malaysian Politicians Say the Darndest Things (Vol 2)”. More foot in mouth wisdom from our great leaders.

Catch the PopTeeVee interview with “Ambi Mohan” at http://popteevee.popfolio.net/default.aspx?e=61

Interview with Fahmi Reza (documentary filmmaker of 10 Tahun Sebelum Merdeka) athttp://popteevee.popfolio.net/default.aspx?e=34

Watch out the word porn/pun:

Q: What’s the state of Malaysian writings at this point of time?
A: As Erma Fatima answered when she’s asked to get into the character: What state are you in?

Erma Fatima: Selangor.

And there’s the obvious one about being in “DE.NIAL”.

Egypt.

I Have No Castle; I Make Unmovable Mind My Castle

leave a comment »

I have no sword; I make the sleep of the mind my sword.*

I can’t sleep. Does that makes me a pacifist or my mental sword still sheathed?

Enclosed, my mind pregnant with cold metallurgy of profanity — spitting hatred as opposed to battering vengeance.

The sea breeze didn’t offer the usual zen-like serenity, in this balmy night.

I spat tragedy. I cried apathy.

I can’t sleep.

Thus I sheath my “sword” and spill the fluid of “innocence”. Till I lay asleep in the arm of ethereal “succubus”.

+++

*Extract from the Samurai creed, referring to the condition of detachment known as “Muga.” The Spirit of Zen.

Written by cthulhu

January 20, 2009 at 4:24 am

Posted in life and dream

Tagged with , , , , ,

Religion Is the Opiate of the Masses

Full quotation of the above incomplete non-quotation supposedly from Karl Marx:

“The struggle against religion is, therefore, indirectly a struggle against that world whose spiritual aroma is religion.

Religious suffering is at the same time an expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sign of the oppressed creature, the sentiment of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.

The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of men, is a demand for their real happiness. The call to abandon their illusions about their conditions is a call to abandon a condition which requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, the embryonic criticism of this vale of tears of which religion is the halo.”

-Karl Marx.
Quoted in “Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right: Introduction.”
Robert C. Tucker, ed. The Marx-Engels Reader. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1978. p. 54.

[Via Marx on religion: Dispelling more myths about socialism]

Written by cthulhu

May 22, 2008 at 9:31 pm

The Cake Is a Lie

with 4 comments

The Cake Is a Lie

If you ever came across the Portal™ game inside The Orange Box, you’ll notice there’s a lot of reference to cake and a poetry reference to both Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Emily Dickinson — which in fact is a parody.

As I’m still in the spirit of “doing the Hudson”re-Hudson or de-Hudson. Here’s a bite in the patois cake.

i.

Si Malaikat Maut dan Kuntuman Bunga
by Cthulhu

Bukan dengan kejam, lagi amarah,
Si malaikat maut datang pada hari itu;
Tapi bagaikan malaikat dari syurga ke muka bumi,
Memetik bunga jauh ke hati.

Note: It’s hard to differentiate between Angel of Death and Archangel in malay term. I used “memetik bunga jauh ke hati” since it has the symbolism of affection, instead of “jauh lari”.

The Reaper and the Flowers
parodied in Portal™

Not in cruelty
Not in wrath
The REAPER came today
An ANGEL visited
this gray path
And took the cube away.

The Reaper and the Flowers
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
‘T was an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

ii.

Kerana saya tidak dapat menahan Malaikat Maut
by Cthulhu

Kerana saya tidak dapat menahan Malaikat Maut —
Dia dengan baik hati berhenti untuk saya —
Hanya kami berdua di dalam Kereta Kuda —
Dan keabadian.

Note: “Keabadian” instead of “kebaqaan”, the former is a proper noun for us mortal, while the latter for divinity. “Kereta Kuda”? Hahaha.

Because I could not stop for Death
parodied in Portal™

Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The cube had food and maybe ammo
And immortality

Because I could not stop for Death
by Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death —
He kindly stopped for me —
The Carriage held but just Ourselves —
And Immortality.

Morbid, no?

By the by, I prefer this version of re-Hudson Cake (by Roger McGough):

Kek Coklat
by Rem

aku mahu satu hayat
engkau mahu satu lagi
sama-sama kita tak dapat
kita pun saling berkongsi diri.

Compared with this:

Kek Coklat
by Natasha Hudson

Saya mahu satu kehidupan,
Kamu mahu sesuatu yang lain,
Kita tidak dapat makan kek coklat,
Jadi kita makan sesama diri.

Cake
by Roger McGough

i wanted one life
you wanted another
we couldn’t have our cake
so we ate each other.

I think I’m having a sugar crash.

+++

Quotable Portal™:

  • “Quit now and – CAKE – will be served immediately.”
  • Cake, and grief counseling will be available at the conclusion of the test. Thank you for helping us help you help us all.”
  • “The Enrichment Center is required to remind you that you will be baked, and then there will be cake.” (subtitles say: “The Enrichment Center is required to remind you that you will be baked [garbled] cake.”)
  • “OK, the test is over now. You win! Go back to the recovery annex for your cake!”
  • “Uh oh. Somebody cut the cake. I told them to wait for you, but they cut it anyway. There is still some left, though, if you hurry back.”
  • “I’m not kidding now. Turn back or I WILL kill you… I’m going to kill you, and all the cake is gone, you don’t even care, do you?”
  • “Who’s going to make the cake when I’m gone? You?
  • Cake Sphere: “One 18.25 ounce package chocolate cake mix. One can prepared coconut pecan frosting. Three slash four cup vegetable oil. Four large eggs. One cup semi-sweet chocolate chips. Three slash four cups butter or margarine. One and two third cups granulated sugar. Two cups all purpose flour. Don’t forget garnishes such as: Fish shaped crackers. Fish shaped candies. Fish shaped solid waste. Fish shaped dirt. Fish shaped ethyl benzene. Pull and peel licorice. Fish shaped volatile organic compounds and sediment shaped sediment. Candy coated peanut butter pieces. Shaped like fish. One cup lemon juice. Alpha resins. Unsaturated polyester resins. Fiberglass surface resins. And volatile malted milk impoundments. Nine large egg yolks. Twelve medium geosynthetic membranes. One cup granulated sugar. An entry called ‘how to kill someone with your bare hands.’ Two cups rhubarb, sliced. Two slash three cups granulated rhubarb. One tablespoon all-purpose rhubarb. One teaspoon grated orange rhubarb. Three tablespoons rhubarb, on fire. One large rhubarb. One cross borehole electro-magnetic imaging rhubarb. Two tablespoons rhubarb juice. Adjustable aluminum head positioner. Slaughter electric needle injector. Cordless electric needle injector. Injector needle driver. Injector needle gun. Cranial caps. And it contains proven preservatives, deep penetration agents, and gas and odor control chemicals. That will deodorize and preserve putrid tissue.”
  • “The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie.”
  • “The weighted companion cube DOES speak. Superstition, perceiving inanimate objects as alive, and hallucinations. I’m not hallucinating. You are. The companion cube would never desert me. Dessert. So long… Cake. Ha ha, Cake. A lie. The companion cube would never lie to me. NEVER.”

+++

Portal™ – End Game:

Portal™ – Credits Song, Jonathan Coulton – “Still Alive”: