New level of illusion

Awesome technique taken to the next level. The Beastie Boys did it too remember? 

And who dare not mention the famous Matrix kick? Here in the glorious deconstructed Lego rendition.

The moving pictures are magic, innit?

The New FT Website - Finally!

The FT has done quite a lot recently revamping and consolidating their digital operation. I rather like the new Guardian-ish look just because it is cleaner and much easier to read and navigate. I thought it is a much better design than WSJ. Although this is really small detail - but I like how they still keep the pink colour - a nice reminder of its print presence. 

With 800,000 registered readers, the FT has been rather bold too in introducing the FT Alphaville Long Room, a forum for pundits to interact. Perhaps this is the new stage of financial journalism - the news sources themselves stepping into the pit? 

Just hope that Murdoch keeps his hands away from FT.

Too Many Bankers

"Where there are too many policemen, there is no liberty. Where there are too many soldiers, there is no peace. Where there are too many lawyers, there is no justice," wrote Lin Yutang.

I would add to that list bankers/financial managers (which encompass the hedge fund managers). 

Where there are too many bankers/financial managers, there is no money.

So there you go. 

Doom and Gloom

It's been raining nonstop in the past few days here in Wales since my arrival. 

Flash flood and a teenage girl died as the result. 

Not particularly good news. But, oh well. Just hope things will get better. More reports to follow.

Magazine Series: Elle Decoration (1990s)

I was rearranging my room the other day - putting some order in the organised mess that was my stacks of magazines - when I stumbled upon some old mid-90s Elle Decoration magazines. If someone were to ask me what magazines defined my teenagehood, it would be these rags I rescued from my father, who then ran a small hand-made sofa store. As a kid, the house was never short of these UK-edition Elle Decoration. It was through these pages that kick-started my interest in design and good living.

Here are pictures of artist-filmmaker Julian Schnabel's loft - way back when he was still thin-ish and not into wearing pajamas to public events (February 1996 edition). 

Now I need to find an old warehouse for my old magazines.

If only

As a (financial) journalist I could only opine: If only all press conferences are this informative. 

NYC: Inner City Waterfalls

Recently, together with New York's Public Art Fund, Olafur Eliasson has installed eight man-made waterfalls around New York. I think this is awesome.

It looks out of place like a big pipe leak and rather surreal - the sheer enormity of the work.

Holy Ghost/Spirit Explosion (Remix)

Thanks to Iain Tait for introducing me to one of the best video remixes in decades.

First I thought this is some kind of Dadaist/Situationist art work. But below is the original clip. Go figure.

Now for a bottle of vodka to fill my body with the real spirit.

Funny Print Ad from DDB.

I make it a point to avoid blogging about ad - there are better and far more interesting and insightful ad bloggers out there. But this is an one and only exception. 

Given the cynicism of the age, it's hard for the cleverness of an ad to make someone smile/giggle/laugh. Let alone a print ad like this one. I believe this one won a Cannes Lion, whatever the colour-material - Bronze, Silver, Gold, Wood, Plastic... I have no idea. It doesn't matter really. But I haven't seen a good, long-copy ad for a while. Funny, while not trying too hard. It also keeps the VW spirit too, in a way paying homage to the old "Lemon" ad.

Work in Progress

Counting down to the shooting day and I'm changing story lines like a chameleon changing the colours of its skin. But we're getting there.

Jump Around!

Music can be infectious and very addictive. Played just once on the radio and I couldn't get the song out of my head. It brought back memories too. 

Heart at work

Before I went to sleep last night, way past midnight, all sloppy eyes and runny nose, I read a bit of the late Paul Arden. I couldn't find the passage in his little book this morning, when I was all conscious and bright-mind tip-top. 

But it goes something like this: 

Solving problems is the exciting part not knowing the answers. 

Sound too simple? Maybe I was dead tired then. But it's illuminating. Bravo.

Madness and Genius

An interview with the young Werner Herzog on his collaboration with the undisputedly insane and out-of-kilter Klaus Kinski on Aguirre, the Wrath of God. 

For artistic achievement, would you cross the line into insanity? Herzog did. And to my surprise - he said that Kinski was the only person he, a self-taught filmmaker, considered a teacher. 

On his growth as a filmmaker: "For the past 14 years I have been doing things not within my grasp by nature. I have learned that in order to make films, you have to be able to survive [sleepless nights, stress and humiliations]. Work them over and make them into something productive. All these humiliations [from Kinski]. They're essential parts of filmmaking. And anyone who can't take that, can't make films." 

What's the Life Expectancy of a Band?

And we thought they have disbanded:

But, still, I like the old sound better:

Sick Sick Sick

First I thought it is some absurdist play (a surreal take on Arthur Miller?) or humour book. But no, no, no. How naive I was. 

This is just funnily sick (literally, not slang). 

Only in America. 

Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.

Taking care of sick elderly/visa application/painting house/university accommodation/article writing/getting rid of cold/future career prospect/financial matters/suspension of BAE Probe/terrorists/back pain from tennis/medical check-up/dentist appointment/office politics/leaving selfish employer/pondering when those The Nation Group director-crooks allegedly siphoning money from the company would be caught and punished/worrying about runaway inflation and high interest rates/not seeing the end of the housing market slump/Blahblah... 

All the while, my dog has been chasing toads (devouring them), mice (just killing them) and sometimes cooking gas delivery man and postmen in the garden (alas, to no avail). 

Here is a picture of her, napping after a night of nocturnal toad and mouse hunting. In her favourite position. 

Divide

Photo from India: I thought I had my Cartier-Bresson "moment" here. 

More to come when I got a little bit more sane-ish. 

On the Road

Will be leaving for Bangalore tomorrow evening. 

Expect crazy photos upon return. 

Adios, amigo. 

Milan's Curtain and the Edge of the World

The reason for the lack of update is this:

I have been reading Milan Kundera's The Curtain and I just can't put it down.

As someone who writes for his daily bread, it is inevitable that I harvest some kind of fantasy about writing a novel or prose or simply longish-length drama. And this is an amicable companion to the journey, albeit not without plenty of insights that open my eyes to other possibilities of the form.

This book is a celebration of the novel par excellent.

Reading this also brought me back to Prague. And in between the lines, I returned to the edge of the Rudolfinum, where the Vltava snakes out, and where I caught a glimpse of the castle and basked in that fleeting spell.

The exact same feeling as when I took the above picture.

Ahoj, Pan Kundera! Děkuji!

Why Rafael Nadal Should be World No.1

(Photo: Stolen from the BBC Sport website.) 

Rafael Nadal may not have Roger Federer's touch. He moves like a 4x4 with a two-hand backhand, as opposed to Fed's more "gracious", ballet-like one-hand backhand. Nadal likes to tuck at his supertight shorts, while Fed doesn't.

But the world number 2 has the drive, audacity, intensity and is constantly improving.

Something that Federer never has - at least in this French Open final. Or maybe he has past his best?

Or perhaps it's the Mediterranean blood.

6-1, 6-3, 6-0. I am as disappointed as you are.

For a Fed fan (like me), I will just have to say, borrowing from a friend: "Wait until Fed smells the grass at Wimbledon."

Even then, I'm sure we'll see dethronement - if Fed hasn't changed his attitude.

Fabien Baron's Interview

Interview Magazine, started by Andy Warhol in 1969, now has Fabien Baron at its helm.

Nice.

Not that I am into celebrity culture disclaimer. But I really like the new content of it - not least the interview with a handful of filmmakers in the issue - notably the very sicksicksick John Waters and the staggering genius in Harmony Korine. And an interview with Jakob Dylan.

Not much in the design has changed though. But the attitude did - maybe because of the new ownership?

Bryan Adams did the cover photo shoot of Maggie Gyllenhaal. Yes, that Bryan Adams. Aw... ful.

A Lacanian Joke

A Freudian, a Jungian, and a Lacanian walk into a bar.

The Freudian orders a cigar.

The Jungian orders an Etruscan mask to conceal his face.

"You cretins!" says the Lacanian. He then orders a beer, which, however, he does not desire.

As found on McSweeny's.

MPFree: A Basket of Goodies

Gideon Coe used to do it - before his show moved from the morning to the night on BBC Radio's 6Music.

MPFree used to profile (then) lesser known bands such as El Presidente, before they became famous and then (usually) took out the free songs.

Anyway, so I thought I would be useful and offer you something for FREE!

A goldmine in Barsuk Records. But since I mentioned Nada Surf in the last entry, I shall highlight their new album. You can download a free single "See These Bones" there.

Then please explore.

More when I explore some more.

18

"What?! She's already 18?! Can't believe that."

"Yeah, she is. She's older than us. Can't imagine being 18."

"No, I don't want to be 18! 18 is so old."

"I've just turned 17. Last summer. That's old..."

Overheard in a cafe.

So I must be ancient history. I am King Cyrus!

Sounds from the Past

Lately, I find myself not having the time to explore new music.

The latest venture was Jack Johnson's Sleep Through the Static. Even that is old stuff. Then there is the Mahler operas CD borrowed from a friend, which I haven't the time to listen. And I don't mean multitasking "listen".

My palate is now limited to the music I listened to in uni. I have my Nada Surf's Let Go CD eternally stuck in the car audio.

I used to think my father boring listening to the same Sam Hui songs and usually tragic Cantonese Opera.

Suggestions, welcome.

Are You Great Enough?

I don't need a Lotus roadster to feel great. Thank you very much. Not that connoisseurs of sports car shall be condemned. I am a fan of Jaguar MKII. I like the design and aesthetics of this mid-size saloon. But there's everything wrong to equate owning a sports car to social advancement/supremacy - status anxiety instilled in its finest.

This is faintly connected to a recent correspondence with a friend on the meaning in work/working (as in to pay the bills): "I am not even that ambitious yet - I am not trying to look for a 'larger' meaning - I am at Level-1. I am just looking for any meaning at-all. but I agree that it is elusive."

He is referring to this article in the Online Beebs on work. The journalist wrote: "We start to demand that our work has a larger meaning. This almost always ends badly, meaning is a bit like happiness - the more you go out looking for it the less you find."

"Are you angry?"

"Oh, **** yeah."

One thing that really baffles me about CNN-strand of journalism is its blatantly poor journalistic standard.

I watched with amazement at Kristie Lu Stout's question to the traumatised earthquake victims in Sichuan: "Are you angry?"

What does she mean exactly?

Would she ask the same question to victims of Hurricane Katrina? "Are you angry that your house has just been swept away?"

If that questions were asked at a shoot-out at - where else but - an American university, it would have been justified, since the casualty is human-inflicted, so to speak. It is out of freewill that a mad man decided to gun down his fellow humans.

The earthquake is a natural disaster. The Great Hanshin Earthquake or Kobe Earthquake was 7.2 on the adjusted Richter scale. And the buildings fell down like a deck of Dominoes. And the Japanese are known for their earthquake-ready buildings.

The picture above was taken in 1995 at Kobe. The recent earthquake in China was 7.8 on the Richter scale. Even the mightiest of tower would have collapsed under such a circumstances.

Stout's question is therefore not only out of context, but inhumane. At its most fundamental function, a journalist's role is to shed light on the matters.

Since day one and on ground level, the Communist elites have been mobilising troops and pulling all the available strings to help victims cope. Where were George W Bush when Katrina struck ?

I do not know how they train their journalists at CNN (or as a matter of fact, the BBC Empire Service, oh, sorry, I mean WORLD Service - I'm used to the old name). Is it "Just report whatever that would bring down China, Russia and anyone who are against us"? Maybe.

What they taught me at journalism school was that the first casualty, in not only a war, but in this case, a natural disaster of such a huge magnitude, is truth. When everything is politicised - truth suffers and human life are at stake.

When your friend's house was flooded out in a mud slide, would you ask her "Are you angry?" Would you ask: "Do you think the corrupted government who allowed logging companies to (legally) wipe out the whole forest on the mountain is to blame?"

I don't think so. Unless you are jealous of your neighbour's house and her new Porsche 911 GT2, of course.

(After)Thoughts on Paper

In retrospect, what Bertrand Russell wrote in The Conquest of Happiness, which I quoted in last entry, is true and honest.

I haven't been near the screenwriting process - ideas, drafts, screenplays, shot list, etc. - for two whole years at least. I have been away from films as a maker. I did habour the idea of making a film here and there. And proposals got killed here and there too.

But most of my time are spent watching, listening, jotting, remembering, laughing, crying, arguing, loving, hating and living - and they have morphed into this project sheepishly titled "Either/Or".

Making this short film come out of this womb has been liberating.

Mixed Feelings

My ex-boss called last night to ask if I would like to join the planning team again - now that a position is open. I was quite flattered, really, in a sense that he still thought of me, if not of the same calibre as the planner who's just left to travel the world. Or perhaps I'm just a cheap option?

Either way, that homes in my point. Amidst the mild elation, I'm saddened. Why should work constitute such a large part of my sense of self-worth?

Or perhaps this has to do with the lack a of courage to take that direction in life? Maybe I've yet to do something really outrageous, in a counter-conventional, counter-Asian values way, that would justify my "existence".

Reading Bertrand Russell's The Conquest of Happiness - "To all the talented young men who wander about feeling that there is nothing in the world for them to do, I should say: 'Give up trying to write, and, instead, try not to write. Go out into the world; become a pirate, a king in Borneo, a labourer in Soviet Russia; give yourself an existence in which the satisfaction of elementary physical needs will occupy all your energies.'"

Amen.

Freudian Sign

We were at Singapore the other day, lounging at the Esplanade's coffee shop. And as I was heading to the loo, I spotted this sign on the door. I am not trying to be naughty here. But can it possibly be that the Singaporeans are suppressed so much that this is indeed the sign of such suppression? Can anyone enlighten me on what the sign means? 

Anyway, the coffee there was very good. 

Daily Xpress - Almost.

Almost two months have past since the launch of The Daily Xpress - Thailand's first ever freesheet - and an offshoot of The Nation. And I really think we've done a good job in somehow making it work with whatever little resources we have and half of the budget of The Bangkok Post, which isn't even close to us in terms of audacity - or sheer madness - and editorial chutzpah.

The Bangkok Post too has come up with a weekly supplement, called My Life, to compete with Daily Xpress.

Still who the heck would wanna read about "pre-nuptial" "preparation"? Those were the words they used in the headline - ruining the lovely stock photos from, let me guess, Getty Images.

I bumped into the guy who edited My Life recently. His bragging about graduating from Boston (Polytechnic?), dubious parentage (He likes hanging out at the Conrad's bar) and ditching high-flying financial job to work for Bangkok Post, Wall Street Journal and Dow Jones.. blahblah convinced me that he doesn't know nuts what he is doing.

They need someone who knows how to "sex" things up tastefully - and I mean a la Delacroix (see below), not The Sun - and, definitely, not "nuptialise" stuffs. That sounds to academic. Trying too hard even. If you know what I mean.

See, xenophobia, racism and colonialism can all be done tastefully!

Daily Xpress is not flawless - mediocre reporting and awful subediting. But we're getting there. I am happy to see people - janitors and self-important "C-level" execs - people who otherwise won't pick up a real newspaper - reading them.

It was interesting to see Mario Garcia, the newspaper design guru who revamped WSJ (I'm not going to include a link here since you're going to pay for its content anyway) and Die Zeit, designed Daily Xpress up from scrap.

Anyway, this is coming from a reader who has Bangkok Post delivered to his house everyday.

The Evil Toad: Monday Morning Blues (on a Sunday)

This is Faust the Toad, a mutated distant cousin of Kermit the Frog.

Faust and his friends are everywhere in my newsroom. They are our regular visitors depositing whatever toxic PR junks everyday.

He appeared in my nightmare this morning.

I woke up today thinking that it was Monday. 8:30 - it said "I'm late" on the alarm clock. My brain began to processed all the appointments and to-do lists like penta-processor super-fast microchip. Then in a blink of an eye, I just realised that it was Sunday.

A swift u-turn with a screeching brake.

But the feeling was great. This epiphany. That's probably the best high, albeit lasting only until this evening, I've had for a while. Not since I peed on the roadside among Pembrokshire wild flowers in a glorious summer day that I have felt this good.

But I'm not an idler, mind, or an uncouth rogue. There just wasn't any public toilet around.

Stamps: The Lost Art of Correspondence

Email is kind of boring. Don't you think? Something for a change. Thanks to an old bro who sent me this package from Wales.

Favouritism

Two of my most favourite people have got me two of my most favourite stuffs: The latest issue of Monocle from Changi (Bookstores and newsstands here in Thailand have only got to the March issue!) and Gambrinus (chilled from good ole Praha). Yums... Lovely combination.

Magazine Series: ANA Inflight Mag - Wingspan

Discovering a new magazine is quite exciting, particularly if it's in a foreign language. It's like a window into the minds of these people. You are like an anthropologist, who will probably find new ways to eat, drink, dress, make-merry and live. Every month, I will scour the world for a magazine to profile. This would be the first in the series for a fanatic magazine collector.


While I was waiting to have my haircut in Bangkok's Little Japan, I came across ANA's inflight magazine in the waiting area. And I have never felt so truly excited about seeing and browsing through a new magazine since Monocle came out last year or the now defunct Zembla, while I was in uni.

What struck me the most was the art direction. I mean, this is not Nylon or any of the more design(er)-conscious titles. It is meant for passengers of an established air carrier - some grannies or self-important executives.

Lots of white space is tastefully laid out. The level of experimentation is impressive. And the illustrations show that not only the New Yorker can pull graphics off with its own characteristics.


The articles too are not the usual picture-perfect photo essays you'd see in a more boring inflight magazines such as Lufthansa's or, worst, Thai Airways'. There's this article about jumping sheep in Australia. Its circulation is actually the largest among inflight rags - 740,000 copies per monthly edition. The covers too are nice.


The Japanese title means "The Emperor's Wings". Or so I think. Again, good use of illustration.

Bravo!

City Dweller

As much as I would like to dream of a house next to the sea a la Jack Johnson, I can't really imagine not living in a city. Andy Warhol once said that you could have the country in the city, i.e. parks, but you couldn't necessarily have a city in the countryside.

That could only happen if the city is well-planned, especially transportation-wise. My only qualm with city living is that I am living in Bangkok.

Many would find this city fascinating. I remember this Irish pop singer Ronan Keatings (He's such a stellar star that you might as well read about hin in French) telling the local newspaper that Bangkok is a big carnival. But from a Bangkok dweller's weary eyes this carnival is too much of a daily sensory overload.

And if you have ever been driving, you would have noticed how the normally easy-going folks turned into beasts once they were behind the wheels.

The Problem With Porn

One Sunday afternoon, I chanced upon a jewelry store with a very explicit name in a ran-down hotel. I wonder what these tourists, mostly semi-backpackers, would think. Would they know that "porn" actually means "blessing" in Thai? If not, these tourists would be looking for the wrong thing in the store. No hidden door leading to a roomful of opium smokers and sins, mate. That you could find at Nana a couple of streets down.