justin_guber - @ 20six.co.uk

I'm getting too normal for this shit...

At this very moment I'm at the office, stinking it up with cigarettes cos it's a sunday night and nobody's here to tell me off for it. I've just finished one piece of work due for tomorrow and am trying to decide whether I should start work on another job due for tuesday. I'm listening to XXX Hip Hop Vol.2, a pirate compilation which is sadly, not as sexually explicit as I hoped it would be. Maybe Vol.1 is.

Yesterday night, however, was a little more eventful.

After a wonderful Saturday spent with my girlfriend, I sent her home and went off to meet Debbie. She'd been at the Literary festival for the past few days and had an extra pass for me to check out some of Amir Muhammad's work, since he was gonna have a screening of some of his past work and 20 minutes of his latest film, Tokyo Magic Hour, which he hasn't finished yet.

I arrived at KLCC where I met Debbie and a friend of hers whose name I can't remember. It's either Jessica or Mary, I'm not sure which. I'm pretty sure at the time Debbie wasn't too sure either. We made our way to the Australian High Commission.

[Side note. The only other person here, Kins, is running up and down the corridor very quickly. I wonder why?]

When I got to the Australian High Commission, I could immediately feel how different I was from these 'other people'. I was surrounded by artists, intellectuals and homosexuals. Please bear in mind that I have nothing against artists, intellectuals and homosexuals, but since I'm none of the above, you must understand my immediate insecurity. I hung around close to Debbie and Jess/Mary (hehe... Jess Mary... Jesus Mary... Jesus Mary Chain... Jesus Mary Joseph I need to get out of this fucking office), clinging onto the only semblance of the world I knew.

We then made our way into the screening room and saw 'Lost', which was alright. Not really my thing, but I could dig it, followed by 'Pangyau' if I'm not mistaken.

"Was that subtlely homosexual?" asked Debbie.

"You thought it was subtle?" I replied.

[Again, I bring up the homosexuality thing. For the raving fags out there who feel like I'm a homophobic bastard who should be shot, please read my little note below after I finish this story.]

Then he showed the first ten or fifteen minutes of 'The Big Durian'. This was more like it. I've always like documentaries which were done a bit left of center, and this was one of them. Where can I get a damn copy? That sure looked like something I could get into.

Then Amir began talking about his latest film and some of his influences, these influences being Japanese experimental underground films. He showed the first part of one called 'Heaven 6 Box'.

And I thought Takashi Miike's work was disturbing.

Weird, gradually suspenseful and grating noises and bleeps played through the speakers as images of Japan, schoolboys and schoolgirls, markets and trees played on the screen. I felt like I was watching the Ring video and someone was gonna call my phone to tell me I had 7 days to live.

Then he showed us his film.

I'd describe how I felt watching it, but since experimental film is not really my cup of tea to begin with, I might as well not (except Schizopolis. Schizopolis was cool, even if I don't really get it, but I guess the reason I liked it was cos there was a character I could follow. Not images of dying fish and naked Japanese men in bath houses).

Then came the question and answer segment, and I knew right away I was definitely not among my own. Artists, intellectuals, homosexuals, whatever. One can always get along with one another in a semi-conversationalist mode if you're both on the same wavelength. I was NOT on these guys' wavelength.

I'd write more, but I'm getting tired, and I have tons more to write. So without further ado, here is,

MY NOTE TO HOMOSEXUALS WHO THINK I SHOULD BE MURDERED WITH A LARGE SILVER PLATED HEDGEHOG

I have nothing against homosexuality. I have nothing against homosexuals. I am not homophobic. But I AM a heterosexual, and as much as we dare not admit it in this intensely PC world (and I do mean Politically Correct, not the chain of computer stores in the UK), heterosexuals have an inate fear of homosexuals.

We don't mean it, but it's an automatic trigger. Only once we actually engage in conversation with a homosexual and discover that they're in a happy relationship or we're simply not his type do we relax and remove the bullet proof vest from our asshole.

It's a weird feeling that many wouldn't dare admit for fear they would appear too 20th Century, but it's the truth. I consider myself very liberal (as can be seen by my views on furry animal sex), but there are still those impulse reactions we have deep down which explains that weird look us hetero's have on our face the moment you homo's tell us your gay.

And for the record, why the fuck is 'homo' considered a derogatory term? It's only derogatory because a hetero said so, so get off my tits if I describe a homosexual as such. Do you know how much effort it is to type 'homosexual'?

To be honest, I'd like to have a good friend who just happened to smoke cock, because I like meeting people with a different point of view in life. I may not agree, but it's nice to see the world from another set of eyes every once in awhile. Plus, I'm also strangely curious.

...

NO. I'm not 'curious' as in 'curious to try homosexuality'. To quote a favorite foul mouthed character of mine from the ViewAskewniverse, "I hate guys, I LOVE pussy!!!!"

I have a ton of questions to ask someone who's toast is buttered on the other side, but I don't know any homosexuals in this country who I'm close with in a buddy-buddy-no-fucky kinda way. Like,

"How do you know who's the butch and who's the bitch? Are there signs? What happens if you pick up a guy in a bar that would rather be the fucker, not fuckee, but you happen to be a fucker too? Do you take turns?"

But, yes. This little note may have caused more trouble than good, but fuck it. Maybe I'm just another evil hetero.

Hetero. Sounds like the name of a Shakespeare character.

1.8.04 17:28

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NICOTINE will be premiering Monday 9th of August!

Haha! I'm in like fucking Flynt! The short film made it in, a-fucking-men!

Sadly, however, the other short film I was in that Pietra directed did not make it in. Late entry possibly. Damn shame.

But yeah, here's the program. And if none of you readers who are in this country don't come, I'll flood your mobile phones with strange SMS's describing the disturbing sexual encounters of sheep and bio-engineered maggots in a cell with the ex-Prime Minister.

And you KNOW I'm more than fucking capable of doing THAT.

Kelab Seni Filem Malaysia presents
MALAYSIAN SHORTS

Monday, 9 Aug 2004 @ 8:00 pm
Institut HELP auditorium, Pusat Bandar Damansara,
Kuala Lumpur.

Admission is FREE for the public. Seats cannot be reserved, so please come early to avoid disappointment.

Curated by Bernard Chauly & Amir Muhammad from a total of 38 entries.

Programme (120 min)*

1. RUMAHKU SYURGAKU (Dir: Fairul Hilmi, 3 min, Malaysia, animation)

2. THE BREAKFAST (Dir: Nor Hazlin Norsalam, 7 min, Malaysia, experimental drama)

3. NOT COOL (Dir: Liew Seng Tat, 20 min, Malaysia, comedy)

4. DANCING KITES (Dir: Azharr Rudin, 11 min, Malaysia, experimental docu)

5. PTUIHH! (Dir: Arif Rafhan Othman, 11 min, Malaysia, comedy)

6. OUT OF THE CLOSET (Dir: Chi Too, 2 min, Malaysia, comedy)

7. ECHOES (Dir: Patrick Lim, 20 min, Malaysia, psycho-thriller)

8. LIFE IS ELSEWHERE (Dir: Kok Kai Foong, 8 min, Malaysia, drama)

9. NICOTINE (Dir: Khairil M. Bahar, 11 min, Malaysia, comedy-drama)

10. ONE DAY IN A FISHERMAN'S DREAM (Dir: Yiren Lam, 7 min, Canada/Malaysia, experimental)

11. BALLAD OF THE LAST BALUT (Dir: Abror Rivai, 4 min, Malaysia, experimental)

12. GOODBYE TO LOVE (Dir: James Lee, 16 min, Malaysia, experimental)

All films not in English will have English subtitles. Q&A with the filmmakers will follow the screening. Get a chance to vote for the top 3 most popular films through our Audience Choice Awards!
For further enquiries please contact chauly@pd.jaring.my.

1.8.04 17:36

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Bling Bling!

Hah! My freelance cheque has arrived! May all the children rejoice, and may this day be a public holiday where children perform plays based on the life and times of George the Erudite Baboon!

'Erudite - having great academic knowledge'. Just looked it up in the Collins dictionary. I didn't know that. I just thought it sounded quite nice. Like 'ascertain'. Or 'deffecation'.

Speaking of freelance cheques, I wonder when I get paid for the KLue stuff... hmm...

Ho hum...

Gee, I really don't have much to say today. Maybe there's a direct link between poverty and creativity. Then again, I haven't exactly been slumming it in a cardboard box taking dumps in the national park.

Harumph.

I like the sound of that. 'Harumph'. Heh.

2.8.04 08:06

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Jason and Ravi go to Turnmills

INT. FORD ESCORT - NIGHT

A Ford Escort, parked on the side of the road. Inside, JASON and RAVI are sat in the front. It's a chilly September Friday night on the streets of London, outside Turnmills.

JASON, dressed in a shirt, tie and suit jacket, complete with glasses, keeps his eyes on the night club opposite them. It's about three AM, and the clubbers are making their way out.

RAVI, dressed in a hooded top and truckers cap, is playing 'Bounce' on his Nokia phone. He loses, and chucks the phone onto the dashboard.

RAVI
I'm hungry.

JASON
You think I'm not hungry?

RAVI
I wish we could have a cheeseburger. Don't you wish we could have a cheeseburger?

JASON
Shut up, we're supposed to keep our eyes on the job.

RAVI
Yeah, but wouldn't you kill for a cheeseburger right now? Or chips in pitta bread. I could murder some chips. Vinegar. Salt. Ketchup. Mayonnaise.

JASON
I don't see why anyone would pay one pound fifty for what is essentially a big pile of carbohydrate.

RAVI
I'm hungry.

JASON
We're both hungry.

One of the clubbers pops out, staggering slightly.

RAVI
What about that one?

The clubber stops by the side of the building and starts vomiting violently.

RAVI
Alright, maybe not.

A group of girls come out next, giggling.

RAVI
What about them?

JASON
Look at them. They're sixteen if they're a day.

RAVI
Yeah? And?

JASON
Don't you have any morals?

RAVI
Fine. [pause] Mousakka.

JASON
What did you call me?

RAVI
I didn't call you anything, I said 'mousakka', it's a food.

JASON
Stop fixating on food.

RAVI
I'm just hungry that's all.

JASON's eyes are now on a girl who's just popped out of the club. She's smoking a cigarette.

RAVI
I miss a decent meal, is all.

The girl makes a call on her mobile phone. JASON looks mesmerized.

JASON
That one.

JASON exits the car.

RAVI
Like peanut butter. I never liked peanut butter but... [realizing JASON's gone] Oh, bollocks.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

JASON calmly walks over towards the GIRL. RAVI walks in another direction, towards the back of the building. JASON approaches the GIRL, taking out a cigarette. He approaches her and talks to her with the demeanour of a James Bond-bred cool-as-ice kinda guy [I don't know what I'm trying to describe here. Basically, he approaches her in such a way that it wouldn't cause the girl to run away. Somehow].

JASON
You shouldn't be walking alone at this time of the night.

GIRL
And why not?

JASON
Lots of dangerous people out this time of night.

GIRL
Really? You one of them, 'cos if you are, I best warn you I've got a can of pepper spray in my bag and I don't mind using it.

JASON
No, I'm not one of them, [pointing at cigarette].

The GIRL, hesitantly, lights his cigarette. As JASON takes a puff, RAVI appears from behind with a cloth of chloroform, grabbing the GIRL.

JASON
Ravi, on the other hand, is a vicious little cunt.

The GIRL passes out.

RAVI
How come I never get to be the one to chat them up?

JASON
'Cos you look like a serial rapist.

INT. FORD ESCORT - NIGHT

JASON and RAVI carry the girl into the back seat.

RAVI
I do not look like a serial rapist.

JASON
Yes, you do.

RAVI rolls up the girls sleeve.

RAVI
I fucking well don't!

JASON takes out a black medical bag. He opens it up and pulls out a syringe.

JASON
Look, there's a reason we do things this way.

RAVI takes the syringe and starts taking the GIRL's blood. He repeats this as they talk, filling up a jar.

JASON
I'm good with women. You're good with the more... unsavory aspect.

RAVI
'Unsavory aspect'? I do all the hard work here, mate! You just walk up to them and lull them into a false sense of security.

JASON
I do not. I make the fall easier for them. I'm the calm before the storm.

RAVI
So I'm a storm now, am I?

JASON
How much've we got?

RAVI
Sigh... about a pint and a bit.

JASON
That'll do. We don't want her to wake up dead. Let's put her on that bench there.

RAVI and JASON carry her out, then return to the car. As they drive off, RAVI takes a big gulp from the jar, then passes it to JASON. JASON turns to RAVI, then turns back to the road.

JASON
You've got a bit on your nose.

RAVI
Oh, cheers.

He wipes it, then takes a look in the mirror. There is no reflection.

RAVI
God, being a vampire's shit.

2.8.04 11:36

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Waiting For Godot

I remember seeing that play sitting on the bookshelf in my GCSE English classroom. 'Waiting for Godot'. Sounds kinda weird. Maybe I'll like it. I asked the teacher what it was about. She seemed impressed that I picked it out, and told me it was about 'absurdism' or something, and warned me that I might not 'get' it.

I read it that night. Two men wait for Godot. For two (or was it three) acts. And Godot never pops up.

I bring that play up, because as of this moment I am waiting in my cubicle for my group head to come out of a discussion so that he may lead me on the path of the wise and effective award winning advertisement route.

And just like that play, my situation at the moment is mind numbingly dull.

I have comic books. I just read New X Men book 4 and Kingdom Come is waiting for me in the dark blue Kinokuniya plastic bag it came in together with my ten dollar voucher for any book in the store that came under the 'War' or 'History' section.

...

Ten dollar voucher for History and War books.

Right.

A guy walks into a store to buy frickin COMIC BOOKS and you give me vouchers for HISTORY books?!

But that's just an aside. I should be doing work, but my deadlines are for thursday. What I'd really like to do is work on the stuff I'm meant to be working on with my group head, but he's in a damn meeting, gawdemmit. I want to go back home, pick up my computer table from my parents house, move it to the Taman Tun house, then go to IKEA, buy a bookcase or two, do up my room to make it kick ass, go out for a drink with a mate then hunt for the new Hives album on pirate.

But I guess that ain't gonna happen now.

Random thought: how'd this blog turn into an actual blog? When I started it, I just wanted it to be a place for me to keep writing, possibly short stories or script ideas or recollections and articles, but now I find myself more and more writing about the events of my life for the benefit of the six or seven people who actually read this fucking thing.

And I wanna go see my girlfriend some point this week. And rehearse. Shit, I've got to transfer the short film onto tape for the MVA's! Shit, shit shit. Premiering next week. Sweet as pie.

Hmh. This is rubbish. The muse has walked out on me and stolen my credit card, leaving me alone and penniless with no ideas whatsoever.

And somewhere in the background, my colleagues record their voices on their macs, making weird grunting noises akin to baboons humping, and we laugh joyously.

3.8.04 13:55

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This text is in bold...

...because it's meant to be the title. But I don't have a title. Or a headline. Or a sub-headline. I have no body copy. I have no brain.

My sleep patterns have been erratic, and the words that I spoke here last week have now come to be. Only a few days ago I mentioned how everything was too easy-going, how it was the calm before the storm.

Well, the calm has fucked off to die and the storm's been here for the past three days raping the creative side of my brain whilst fondling my medula oblongata.

Last night I left at eleven. The two nights before I couldn't sleep till 4 or 5am, and when last nights all nighter came my body finally decide to go, 'hey, I haven't slept much, haven't I? Let's yawn and slow down the Khai's brain process!' I was here till eleven thinking about worms.

This morning was no better. After waking up late, I got in and immediately got called upstairs for a meeting that was meant to finish just before lunch. At 2pm, I finally got a chance to grab a bite, all alone, just me and my lamb roast.

Now I'm researching different cultures and languages for another project, and I'm feeling kinda fried up. I have rehearsals later, and my freelance cheque hasn't cleared at the bank yet.

Ooh, I didn't tell you about the cheque, now did I? The wonders of technology have enabled me to deposit my cheque without having to meet the evil spawns of Satan that work the teller counters at banks. I admit, I was scared at first, watching my cheque get swallowed by a big grey box, but when the receipt came out with a picture of my cheque on it, I felt somewhat relieved. It's weird. We can deposit cash and cheques without meeting a person face to face. We can move our finances about, we can check our balance, we can look up our account on-line.

And yet, if you lose your savings book, you're immediately fucked beyond compare. Wawasan 2020 indeed.

I still haven't transferred my short film to miniDV to send off for MVA's. Bugger. I don't have time. I've got rehearsals later tonight, and if things don't go well here, I may have to come back to the office after that. My parents have just arrived home from a trip to Jakarta, and I haven't even seen them.

But I can't complain. Life is good, more or less. Here, in the 'convincing-idiots-to-buy-shit-they-don't-need' industry, I finally get to do what I like: write. And, in my freelance time, I also get to do what I like: write. And I get to play music. And make films. And stuff.

...

But it's so much more fun to bitch about shit, ain't it?

4.8.04 11:28

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Multi-cultural Monkey Spunk

It's 1:31am, and I'm in the office (where else would I be, writing a blog?), buzzing on caffeine, shivering from the freezing air-conditioning, with Jay at Eddy's cubicle checking out music videos.

I'm here to write a rationale on a bunch of motifs for a hotel, and just before the servicing dude left me to work on it, he cried, "dude, you HAVE to check out casey's cam! Check out Casey's Cam!"

Now tell me, how am I POSSIBLY supposed to concentrate on work when I go to a site filled with pics such as these?

(I would have put pics of her well-endowed bossoms or a close up of her cute lil' face, but I picked the pic at random, and asking me to decide which pic serves her best would be akin to asking a dog which bone he'd like in the World's Largest Bone Exhibition in Bone city).

I have always felt that the majority of people who have websites dedicated to themselves really don't deserve a website, and I've always found webcams to be, well, pointless lo-res wide angled pasty crap. But this lady is something else. Click on the pic and check out the site for yourself. It only costs $24.99 or something to get to know her. Amazing. People can now charge money for others to be friends with them, even if said friends may have ulterior motives.

Apparently there're dozens of these non-nude teen model sites, self hosted. There's a link to it somewhere at the bottom of Casey's website.

Anyone else got the vision of beer-gutted middle aged balding net-pervs fantasising about double-clicking her mouse firmly lodged in their heads?

Or are you still fixated on her ass?

(Or have I just alienated my entire female readership (all three of them) and caused my girlfriend to seriously reconsider why she's going out with a perverted monkey spanker such as myself?)

4.8.04 19:44

Permalink / 2 Comment(s) / Comment

Full Steam Ahead, Mateys!

Inspiration is at almost full capacity today, and I'm well chuffed. Not too much of a strain thinking up ideas. My freelance cheque has also just cleared, my KLue cheque will be arriving next week, and I've received an assignment to review Hoobastank's gig and interview them. Once I'm done on what I'm currently working on, I shall be making my way to the bar downstairs for a taste of the amber nectar.

Good day. Something's bound to fuck it up. But I'm prepared. I have my nunchakus at the ready, and bribe money in case it's required. I have charms and mystical potions to rid evil. I have excorcism pamphlets, M-16's and electrical tin openers. I-AM-PREPARED.

On another note, it's official. Saiful forwarded me the e-mail today from Rina (quite a sad one), and it seems she can't devote the time required to Y2k because her workload's heavier than a sumo wrestler in an all-you-can-eat meat factory. Eddy's sub-bing for now, and we have a permanent guy in the pipeline. Work will begin for real on the album next week (or was it this weekend?) and soon the women will tremble and the men will nod in silent approval like Master Wong and the students of Pong.

But it was a sad e-mail. It's a damn shame that Rina can't play, and I hope thing's can all go on between us as friends. She needn't worry. I only fuck over people that seriously tug at my balls to practice boy scout knots.

Such as MoJam. That was some incredibly depressing shit. Did I tell you he contacted me again? In fact, do you even know about that whole thing?

Hmmm. Perhaps you don't. No matter. 'Recollections' will have an entry on that soon... very soon... if I'm not too out of it later.

Adieu, good readers. Fermented barley and hops await!

5.8.04 12:32

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Shameless Self Promotion Volume Two:

Here's the official press release for the Kelab Seni Filem Shorts Fest (for those not in the know, my film is under my full name, or at least, my name in the fullest way i'd have it printed, which is 'Khairil M. Bahar'). In the list, I'm number nine:

PRESS RELEASE

Kelab Seni Filem Malaysia presents
MALAYSIAN SHORTS

Monday, 9 Aug 2004
@ 8:00 pm
Institut HELP auditorium, Pusat Bandar Damansara, Kuala Lumpur.

Admission is FREE for the public. Seats cannot be reserved, so please come
early to avoid disappointment.

Curated by Bernard Chauly & Amir Muhammad from a total of 38 entries.

Although the previous edition of KSFM Malaysian Shorts was screened to a
full house for only one night in March 2004, the work has travelled beyond.
Fast becoming the best platform for young Malaysian filmmakers to premier
their shorts, the entire compilation of 17 shorts in the March 04 edition went
on to be screened at the Malaysian Independent Film Fest in Penang last
June. 9 shorts were also selected for screening at the Asian American
International Film Festival in New York last month and Diffan Sina's Wanita
Cosmos and Idora Alhabshi's Free are currently on exhibition at the
Malaysian Art Now show at the National Art Gallery till 1 Sept.

KSFM not only believes in promoting Malaysian work to local audiences but
continues to actively expose the work abroad. Each compilation of shorts is
sent out to festivals and curators abroad. Committed to introducing new
directors, 7 out of 12 of the director's featured in this edition have not had
work screened by KSFM before.

Some of the highlights in this edition are:

Not Cool, the latest short film by MVA award winner, Liew Seng Tat. A
tragic-comedy in what is becoming Seng Tat's consistent tone of wit.

Goodbye to Love by the ubiquitous James Lee, a beautiful black-and-white
meditation on love and longing starring Lee Swee Keong

Echoes by Patrick Lim, starring Deanna Yusoff as the protagonist in this
psycho-thriller.

All films not in English will have English subtitles. Q&A with the filmmakers will
follow the screening. Get a chance to vote for the top 3 most popular films
through our Audience Choice Awards!

For further enquiries please contact chauly@pd.jaring.my or call 012 2255
136.

Programme (120mins)

1. RUMAHKU SYURGAKU (Dir: Fairul Hilmi, 3 min, Malaysia, animation)

Cica, a Pontianak, has been having trouble scaring people and animals
lately. Pissed off, she and her best friend Cak, a skull, start an adventure to
find new surroundings and new people to scare.

Fairul Hilmi B Ahmad Hawari is a Multimedia University graduate, with a
degree in Creative Multimedia, majoring in Film and Animation. He is
currently seeking jobs, yet still enjoying the freedom of graduating.

2. THE BREAKFAST (Dir: Nor Hazlin Norsalam, 7 min, Malaysia,
experimental drama)

Alan has a simple breakfast. A peanut butter sandwich with eggs.

A 23 year old final year student at LUCT majoring in Film, TV & Advertising,
Hazlin is also a stage performer. She aspires to produce more films as well as
pursue formal training in Performing Arts.

3. NOT COOL (Dir: Liew Seng Tat, 20 min, Malaysia, comedy)

With his 80 year old mother in hospital, 20 year old Ah Cool takes over the
family business of sewing bras! Meanwhile, 3rd Aunty sizes up a girl that she
pressures onto her helpless nephew.

KLUE magazine highlighted Liew Seng Tat as a young filmmaker to watch.
An MMU graduate, Seng Tat won Best Short Film at the 8th Malaysian Video
Awards 2003 for "Breadskin and Strawberry Jam" which premiered at KSFM
Malaysian shorts in July 03.

4. DANCING KITES (Dir: Azharr Rudin, 11 min, Malaysia, experimental docu)

This experimental documentary, originally meant as the filmmaker's search
for his long-lost Indonesian grandmother, is a poetic mini-odyssey of a
different kind.

Azharr Rudin, 23, is a graduate of Lim Kok Wing Univesity College of Creative
Technology, where he was the Class of 2003's recipient of The Industry
Award for Excellence - Best in Video Production.

5. PTUIHH! (Dir: Arif Rafhan Othman, 11 min, Malaysia, comedy)

Terrorism, multiple sex partners and religious issues all bubble to the surface
during a mission to catch a cheating girlfriend.

Arif Rafhan is an Information Technology graduate and is currently a partner
in an IT consultancy. His knowledge for film trivia has earned him the
nickname `God of Celluloid'. `Ptuihh. . .' is his first short film.

6. OUT OF THE CLOSET (Dir: Chi Too, 2 min, Malaysia, comedy)

A man struggles as he discovers himself and his true identity.

Chi Too studied at Kolej Damansara Utama.

7. ECHOES (Dir: Patrick Lim, 20 min, Malaysia, psycho-thriller)

Julia (Deanna Yusoff) works late in her office and she starts to see things. An
encounter with her two colleagues is repeated before her eyes, a mysterious
woman that walks past her without responding to her and a little girl in black
dress and holding a black balloon. The first short to be shot on HD format in
Malaysia.

Patrick Lim spent seven years in US, studying and worked in several
independent projects. He returned to Malaysia in 1996 and was involved with
a few projects before he landed a teaching career at LimKokWing University
College of Creative Technology. EXIT, KILLERVATOR and CHOICE are
some of the works that he has under his belt. He is currently working on
developing a feature length version of CHOICE

8. LIFE IS ELSEWHERE (Dir: Kok Kai Foong, 8 min, Malaysia, drama)

Do you sometimes feel like you're being watched? Who is watching whom?
Whose life are we living right now? Looking at the mirror, who do you see?

A Computer Science graduate, Kai Foong became the film critic in Sin Chew
Daily from 1996-97. After getting a distinction in the Global Film School online
film course in 2002, he started making short films. Currently, he is a freelance
software engineer and filmmaker.

9. NICOTINE (Dir: Khairil M. Bahar, 11 min, Malaysia, comedy-drama)

Rizal, a smoker, decides to quit after seeing his cousin Nizam cough up
blood. The story follows his trials and tribulations as he overcomes the need
for nicotine.

Khairil grew up in London where he was born and bred on film, music and
British comedy. He is currently a copywriter for an ad agency. In his spare time,
he plays music, pokes random animals with pointed sticks and writes bio's of
himself in the third person.

10. ONE DAY IN A FISHERMAN'S DREAM (Dir: Yiren Lam, 7 min, Canada/
Malaysia, experimental)

The Narrator of this dream is looking for a place to fish. As he encounters the
Sailor, the Wild Flower Picker and the Middle of Nowhere Cat, he realises that
a sea monster has infiltrated the ocean.

Malaysian born Lam Yiren obtained a Communication Studies Degree from
the University of Windsor, Canada. Unclear of what he had learnt he moved
on to film studies in Spring 2003.

11. BALLAD OF THE LAST BALUT (Dir: Abror Rivai, 4 min, Malaysia,
experimental)

2 guys head for a happy ending after meeting at an abandoned train station.

Abror Rivai graduated from UiTM and works as a freelance journalist. Born on
10 May 1976, the same day Travis Bickle wrote his diary in Scorsese's `Taxi
Driver'. A coincidence that makes Abror believe he was destined to be a
filmmaker.

12. GOODBYE TO LOVE (Dir: James Lee, 16 min, Malaysia, experimental)

A phone call makes all the difference.

James Lee is Malaysia's most prolific independent filmmaker. As his latest
feature, "The Beautiful Washing Machine" continues riding the festival circuit,
James is one of four directors in the "Visits" anthology, premiering at GSC in
late August 2004.

5.8.04 17:25

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Wild Nights, Bad Craziness

So I went out drinking with my colleagues last night. Another round of bonding. The only slack about it is the fact that I had to go back up to do some work after it. I'm not too sure what advice or what comments I made about the work I was doing with the AD in my drunken state, and am now both curious and supremely worried. What if I asked him to plaster the poster with nude chickens? Not good.

But it was when I got home when things started getting bad. I had another one of my bad dreams again.

You ever have a dream that is so upsetting it wakes you up? I've had dreams where I was so scared it woke me up, or so intensely wrapped up in the throes of dreamworld passion that I woke up, but being so saddened by a dream till it woke me up? Hmmm.

Actually, I can remember one or two instances. But I can't remember whether it was the sadness that woke me up or I just woke up when I was supposed to. Those other dreams seemed longer, like I had to watch the whole thing on my black and white mind (yes, my dreams are in black and white. I never knew you could have dreams in color until someone told me. Yet another reason why I often feel like I am a freak experiment). But this one was just... depressing. And I was in it. I forced myself awake because if I stayed in the dream any longer something very bad would happen (although I now doubt how bad a bad thing could be in a dream. Unless those Sandman comics are telling the truth).

And what was the dream? Well, it involved someone very close to my heart, a local celebrity I contacted recently, and me, no sex involved. It was totally a rollercoaster of emotions, with no hanky panky (there may have been, though, if I stayed in the dream). Not too sure whether I feel like writing it down here. On the one hand, I'm afraid of forgetting it. Often I remember my dreams by writing them down. On the other hand, it still kinda bugs me, and I don't feel like typing it out right now (Diana, if you're reading this, remind me to tell you about the dream. I trust you more than some of the pictures-of-goats-searching motherfuckers out there).

And lo, I woke myself up from a depressing dream, and it was 7.45am, much earlier than when I usually wake up. My bones are now aching in the air-conditioning, as it always does after I go drinking, and I can still taste the Carlsberg and muruku in my mouth. The colgate did not do its job.

On another note, out of the drinkers last night, myself and Adrean are the only ones who've come in so far in the office. Even Eddy's not here yet. He's always here early, where is the fucko? Shit, wasn't I supposed to pass him glasses last night? Can he see? Is he wandering around his house Stevie Wonder style, screaming, "where's the flush!? Where's the fucking flush!? I can't SEE!!!!!"

Maybe not.

6.8.04 04:05

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