Merdeka...

It's past 1am on Merdeka morning. I did more stressful pushups and situps including raised legs push ups which were a little draining, and those Russian twists, also good. Lunges, twists, and stretches, shoulder rolls and neck bends.

Met a kind former military adviser on Quora and we had a brief discussion about the craft of writing. Dad thought otherwise as usual he's anti-West and pro-China whereas the rest of us want to be in the multitude with palm and olive branches, not a stuffed up armchair politician. 

It's 3am Monday. Still awake. We've taken the fight to the Liew witches, supported by braver Americans and British fighters, as well as our usual Chinese mind police. Gave them pneumonia and catalyzed it.

. . .

Was up late. Managed to get cleaned well. Washed. Brushed. I may head out shortly, get some sun. Maybe at 3pm. Right now the ex-GF wants a new song written since we shared the last good one with Emily who liked it.

Wrote her one just now about a woman with honey bees who dreams of a lake home in the mountains. From a short story I did years ago. She was worried I'd have no more songs. A simple play on the AM chord.

. . .

Circa 1am this Tuesday. Engaged in a discussion on the parables with my church who cannot accept that there are angels among us, and that men's hearts are not individually responsible and motivated. And that God sprinkles gospel into the hearts of men like salt onto a steak. There was a brief discussion wherein I discovered that they had no spiritual leadership for a long time, and were coasting on the standard protestant teachings without interpretation and application. They were run down by the way the world had become and taxed heavily by sorcery of modern day.

Nonetheless I loved them and as many as would listen to logic -knowing the things of this world are a reflection of heaven, I lifted them up to be in Spirit with the rest of the faithful and the elect.

Worked out and it felt good. Did the more demanding push ups and sit ups. Church is rebelling against my interpretations which I gave out in good faith with supporting logic. They have gone instead to consult an expert translator. 

. . .

Tuesday morning. Managed to get cleaned well. Am heading to the mall with the folks soon.

Mall outing was okay. Dad got his long socks for gardening, and Mom got her mooncakes for a good discount. Partways thru, I was attacked pretty bad thru the mindspaces, and we had to go home. Just resting in air-conditioning right now, having finalized the design of my auto-ranging bow sight. Not sure when I will build it. Maybe this weekend.

Time for meds and workout at 1am. I need to start a new post as it seems John is being attacked over the design and the flow of chi of Apple products -weird but true. We talked in mindspace so I better write my opinion of where this feng-shui thing should ideally go and whether he wants to follow the Chinese advice, is up to the man himself.

Lost some weight...

I lost half a kilo in body weight. Not sure how. Maybe it's my new running routine and less snacking on bread and butter. 

We managed to push the troublemaker witches away and everyone is feeling better. 

I have figured out (Windows) Tiny11 -how to install it to my eSSD OTG. Runs smooth. Saves almost 2 gigs of RAM.

Managed to get cleaned well and showered. Chores start in an hour. Don't feel up to doing any writing or coding. 

Read a disturbing video on YouTube about the Noahide Laws which may be expanded throughout the world, which mean death to sinners. This is said to be scheduled for November -yea, religious rule.

Meanwhile, we erased all the Liew witches' memories down to the nerve, giving them amnesia. It was quite easy.

Digging thru, found numerous instances where they bullied the westerners, their women, and pinned the blame on me, saying it was my advice. Besides that, grandma reached out to me to save my uncle in Singapore who got roped into opening some upper class Brits on account of grandpa's cancer. In later stages, it was bad and he moaned to his relations in agony. Some harsh words were exchanged in the mind if not more and my uncle eventually got stage 4 cancer as well. There are some things better left alone even tho the heart breaks.

We bathed some cancer patients in iceberg water, taking care to gently acclimatize their bodies to the cold, also pain was removed as this impedes the recovery of the immune system which we were jump starting with the icy water.

Shifted my BOMGE interface to the Windows netbook, leaving the writing station free of clutter. Tonight, I will be expanding on project SDM. Want to finish the first 3 chapters (3k words).

. . .

Got into a talk with Alyssa about using AI, and I admitted to testing my rhymes against Google Translate which was well before it used AI to deliver its translations, and right now has to be cited as 'I used GT'. Yea, back then it had a simpler model that dealt with Chinese. I am Chinese so I know if the translation is odd / not necessarily wrong but a little off as English and Mandarin use a different syntax and ideology of speaking.

But I did so, not to win any awards or to further my plot, not even as filler, just to introduce the West to the culture of the East -all in good fun / to know how we Chinese talk. As an Australian Chinese, my grasp of Mandarin is very poor and I too delighted in the rhymes, as they turned into pinyin, and I sculpted them to match the English poems more artistically.

I don't think AI is bad. Nor do I think it's the best thing that ever happened to us writers. For me, it is a convenience. Save me a day at the Library, reading up grammar guides, listening to tapes etc.

And I was thinking of the recent 'generate me a song' apps. I would not use those, as a songwriter, even to make a demo or to improve my lyrics. Music is all about nuance and genuine feeling. There is no room for AI in music except maybe dance / disco / muzak / prototyping jingles.

We just came home from having Indian food. It's 8pm and I haven't finished all  my chores. Maybe in 15 minutes. 

My desk feels more productive without the BOMGE interface box and mic, and I feel more like working on code, and writing my novel.

. . .

Took my meds and showered. Nearing midnight. Will work out at 1am. All my music gear is connected to the Tiny11 netbook with the most RAM (12GB) and a new and fast eSSD. I installed Waveform from Traktion. It looks simple to use but is quite tricky. Said to be good and was free (add ons cost you).

Earlier, by request, western and eastern people asked about signs of the end. There were a few I related such as the 4 horsemen which I had some providence for, then we talked about the beast rule that Pastor Aaron ATL (YouTube) said was exactly the same as the Two Witnesses period in Jerusalem. It is also the exact time period of the sign of the woman in heaven / sky, taken care of in the desert. Whether John is one of the 2 witnesses is moot still.

And the prophecy of Paco Soccer still resonates. Numerous signs point to a Chinese involvement in the end times conflict even tho July is over and the World Cup with it.

I don't have time to write tonight, just to blog a bit more. Tim wants me to get the Macbook Neo which I fully agree will be great. Trouble is, it can only come on my birthday in November., 3 months away. Meanwhile our new Axia will be arriving within 2 weeks from now.

Someone downloaded SeTT from ckyap.itch.io/sett and I am just so happy. Almost 1am. Will wind down, watching some YouTube.

. . .  

Was re-reading my novella and there is a phrase I wrote; [love is] a mirage of jealousy in a desert of emotions. Being disabled, I can't remember what I meant. But the usual understand-in-reverse law should apply; there is wanting so bad, that even malicious attractivity seems like love (something welcome).

I think this is one of 4-5 other places where my writing seems convoluted. 

This is another one; Obviously the woman was correct, Tim? Obviously, Marsha... is passe for I don't care to find out. Care is familiarity. But as far as correctness goes, it never vexed me much. I've seen that in its singular context all too many times.

As usual, we analyze back to front, Tim has seen good judgment in all kinds of situations. Marsha's observation might be one such time. But he chides her for being too invested in [the Seth-Marjorie dynamic] to be critical with her judgment, trusting intuition which he thinks is behind the times for a modern woman.

. . .

Managed to get cleaned fully (went twice), and should be go for a run tonight. Was almost locked out of my Tiny11 install after a security update. Scary. Still morning, just took a shower. May head out on a long walk instead of running, perhaps circa 3pm.

Realized I had not drawn a KoangDeLambe comic strip this Sunday. I tend to draw one every 3 days. Luckily I had an idea from the discussion last night on Revelations and the riders, the trumpets to come, etc.

I drew the comic strip and it went pretty well. We also sorted out some interpersonal problems brought up by the Liew witch. Finally linked the blog posts together and to the main index page.

Merdeka, 31/8/26 falls on ABY 3f which is 'Marsh'. And it concerns caging disrespectable people and picking on them until the fabric of society around the world is damaged. There will be a price to pay for this unruly and ugly behavior.

Tonight is special. An eye or sight has been given to the bow of the White Rider. The sight was made out of a bread tag (plastic), and card from a box I chose because it was brown but ended up purple (I fitted it inside out). The box is a Mr Beast Feastables box. Jimmy, being a popular philanthropist and entertainer, also a teacher of human nature and all round nice guy. All that's left is to apply the parallax curve cuts and glue it all tight in place. OK, we have the cuts made and they will be backed by plastic later on.

Bad luck, the prototype was unusable. I have come up with a weight and elastomer sight instead. I just need some plastic packing, some magnets (as weights) and maybe a rubber band. Genius friend told me that the band would deviate horizontally -true. Maybe an eyelet to hold back the band will help. I have some wire for that. Anyways, on Merdeka Day 1am, the thing is finalized at last. A sight you can make at home. 

I've been watching tech videos...

People saying they like the Macbook Neo, or spent $150 on a Linux ThinkPad from 2013. I spent 1.1kRM on my IPS screen TP x250 with Core i5 CPU and 8 GB RAM. It has dedicated trackpad buttons which is great for running Linux's select-middle click, and a comfortable backlit keyboard. The build quality is great and it doesn't mind being left on overnight.

I use Ubuntu Sway as its OS. And with a 19" NEC 1990FX I bought used for 50RM as a second display, overhead, manage to get a lot done. It's a budget setup but I think, an intelligent choice of old but durable and top of the line constructed hardware, mated to industrial grade GNU / Linux.

Currently, I manage my website, KoangDeLambe, process its graphics, write my novel(s), and code Python scripts all on this setup. Sometimes, I record simple songs via a BOMGE USB interface and Shure mic.

I have always preferred gaming mice for their smoothness and accuracy. I use a Logitech G102 with toned down deep red LED lighting, circa 60RM, albeit wired. It operates well despite the cable which I have neatly coiled and tied.

My other computer which I use all the time is an iPad 10 I got 4 years ago. It is my go to machine for posting on social media, taking photos / videos, online purchasing, watching YouTube before bed etc. Can't live without it. I paid over 2kRM for it, new, which is okay because Steve, then Tim were my friends.

More later... 

I got pushed together with some musicians and we were feasted on by a demon woman. It ought to have generated some songs, and sure enough I had one. Joe was right about whipping Michael. Just not too hard which I'm sure he obeyed. After all, everyone has a mother too.

So we had to break up for being used to prey on one another's weak points and career directions. Kurt couldn't take it. He was a beautiful mind and they tend to like growing in the same bucket they always knew. Those who moved or tried to were poured in salt water. 

I have my fingers in many pies so I get burnt often. Hey, Beeb, you'll shine again very soon and Paul, so many great songs. I'm just cobbling together my simple melodies in my 50 years on the blue marble. Not quite competition to anyone. But I do enjoy the chords when they fit. And the words, if they do too.

I guess I just want to say, I read the suicide letter. Can we say 'suicide', and every time we see the thing, it's always got some element of east vs west. So we know, tho they throw it into the margins where it blurs somewhat, that the person is a racist, inhuman predator, chipping away at the delicate sanity of those with open hearts. Why don't you lizards feel love? It's the greatest feeling you've never known.

And the corrupt souls you drag behind a kindly smile that twitches. And the bustle that never stops that has become your heartbeat. So you don't remember that guilt and pain are different, which one comes before or after and who was the one it came from.

In the end, the winners are those on the stage playing the parts wrote out. Sure you know easily, evil will lose so why be good? Then drag the good down so evil will win a hollow victory that means nothing. And the meaningless lives you live, pushing and pulling on stale air, there's no sense in taking another breath of your corruption. The lines blur when you scrub out the markings so you can win and then smile to the wind as it takes your prize. It will come again. Maybe someway the wicked will find rest. Maybe the Bible will be wrong. And God not come again. Dream it if you like then turn to check the shadows, drag in another Christian to feast on in your rituals of feuding.

I ran my new novel’s 1st chapter thru DeepSeek…

DS is pretty well balanced in critiquing my works. I remember it absolutely trashing the Wa language and being very strict about the Wa2 language. I invented the languages for quickly learnable communications.

In the case of my fiction, it has been getting pickier and bolder overall, as if it knows what I’m doing wrong and why. I think it is learning my style, its weaknesses.

Of course, I never take its advice as that would be wrong, but I am always curious about the balance between; should I scrap the book, or carry on? What does the world think?

Even if I had a beta reader, it would be wrong to use him or her to read my unfinished chapters, even for fee. People can only eat up so much of your self-inflated trash. But a machine, no problem. I would love beta readers to read my final work, after I edit it twice, myself.

DeepSeek loved my central character which I expected. One robot sticking up for another. It caught on that I was insinuating an interface and code of morality between bio and non-bio organisms or parts thereof. Please don’t steal my idea wholesale… yet. Maybe in October. And no, it is not quite Asimovian but in the spirit of the master himself.

This time, I may not be releasing any chapters for you guys to read unless Tribulation occurs suddenly and we begin dying. Liew witches still trying to push me to suicide. I put a thorn in the corner of their eye, and they’re crying over the prevalence of cruelty in these end times. It wasn’t me who started this fight or who wakes up angry every morning.

 

. . .

 

Back from a brief run. It really sets my organs functioning better and only takes 5 minutes. Great thing is that at this time of the night, it's fairly dark and I do like the privacy and quietness. I will be trying to install Tiny11 (a form of Windows 11) tonight but its script seems slow generating the ISO. I couldn't run as fast as I liked due to a stiff, sore right knee and  a weakened left leg. Liew witchy forces piling the hurt on my friends and family who need me. They don't know or care how much power people possess naturally that we've been leniently doling out.

Tiny11 is taking all night to make the ISO. Don't feel much like writing yet. Maybe stay up late tonight and write at 1am.

3am and wide awake -again...

I managed to work out at 2am+ and am feeling good. Ate up some leftover yogurt. We did a session of analysis in which I tried to prove God's existence, the universe's creation, the possibilities of a multiverse, what exactly is Allah who is not Jesus' father, nor the Father, nor YHWH etc. We talked a lot about basic physics, e=mc^2 and v = f.lambda, and how gravity is really magneto-gravity (dark) which contrasts with electo-magnetism (light). We talked about meaningful reality, how we don't see beyond horizons thus assuming a flat earth, likewise we don't see beyond magneto-gravity so we cannot know more of Heaven than Allah. Allah is the gate of heaven. There may be many gates, but we know and experience just one. Every universe has its god -and ours was evil until YHWH intervened thru the opportune entry of Iblees the cowardly angel of truth / light.

To any religious person, I do apologize for offending anyone. It was a lively discussion in which we discussed the very big and very small physics effects and how the observer theory is mostly correct (quantum mechanics). Many returned from this short sermon full of the love of the Divine One. May all your religions bring you peace! Happy birthday to Mohammed, peace be upon him. We talked a lot on his birthday, like it was blessed.

. . .

There is peace for now and I am doing some light coding -think I got things mixed up tho the code is simple and neat. It is the indices of ccT -the component node list of lists.

Drank lotsa Coke. Am feeling good. People seem more optimistic. I machined them together, both loving one another for dear life, now are partners in Gospel exploration and beyond -unto heaven.

British made me promise to advocate the proof of God so I will KoangDeLambe it maybe tomorrow. Should be fun to do. We also talked on psychology and now everyone's mental health is more hopeful -there are cures for most things. Wait for KDL's comic strip.

I am still coding n4s. It looks to be close to success as soon as I properly index the ccT list of lists.

. . .

Today I should get my $100 in. Managed to get cleaned well and showered. Ate roti telur for brunch, now almost 11am. Cola cleaned my teeth, but always rinse it off after a brief time as it is acidic. Am still coding. Rumblings of writing another novel / novella. Not sure I have one in me.

I think it shall be an extension of my flash piece, The Secrets of the Dimension Masters. It will be character driven as the repetitive plot turns over the same frustrations, then reveals a few twists along the way.

I wrote one page and will carry on later tonight. Solved the syntax bugs in n4s but am faced with odd node values. Something gone wrong somewhere. Probably the index assignments. But the algorithm structure seems still to be okay and non-complex.

Finding some odd quirks about the example circuit I'm using. Could be the reason my nodes are wrong. Needs further investigation, how to code quirks like these. Meanwhile I wanna work on my story, SDM. Mom has asked me to make dinner. We'll be having tofu drizzled with garlic oil and soy and baked beans with mince. Dad insisted we get her a coffee so I got the Zus mulberry matcha 3 layer tea.

Things are looking up.

I wrote 1k words of SDM. It's going well so far. Now to switch back to coding. Will write/edit 1k words a day consistently, to finish in 2 months. I usually edit on the fly and sometimes step back after a paragraph and rewrite it. Of course, I also do a once over read thru and edit, plus a final spellcheck and gremlin removal via AI (I rent MS Office for a month). OSC doesn't need these, he's a cut above, just as I am a cut above re-drafters and shufflers. I sometimes wonder how both types of writers exist.

. . .

By request, how to avoid tooth decay. There is no surefire way except to strengthen and build enamel, between brushing regularly. There are 2 ways to do this. Eat less gluten (bread), instead eat toasted oat muesli (Alpen) with fresh milk. Along with this, eat lotsa raw celery and carrots with yogurt. Eat less sugary foods, replacing them with stuff like bitter coffee, matcha, flower tea, etc. When you have cake, don’t eat the icing and if you do eat brownies or jelly beans, things like that, be prompt to brush. Brush with soft dense bristled toothbrushes. Secondly, you can boost your enamel with special expensive toothpastes. I use it and can recommend Colgate gum strength, plaque release.

By request, how to delay early onset baldness. I read an article that worry or stress causes white hairs. Baldness, I have experienced myself, it came with extreme levels of stress and worry. Overnight, I was thinner on my left side, where the worry in my mind was concentrated. So I feel like an authority on balding. Basically, don’t let yourself be without comforts. Jesus is a comfort. So are my works / deeds in his name. I lean on the Lord lots when I’m stressed and I know nothing I lose will be as bad as losing my salvation. To take away minor concerns, you must be productive and sometimes able to tangibly feel the fruits of doing well and doing good. When you make the connection between health or stress-free living and good clean living, you will age slower.

. . .

Just worked out and am feeling good. Had some food earlier to build up muscle mass. May sleep by 3am. Was telling people that my most inspirational thing is my book SuperdereK UnderpantS. It is inspirational and fun to read. Whereas project SDM is somewhat less, being just a thought-provoking sci-fi story with twists.

. . .

Managed to get cleaned well at last. Afternoon is still early. Drew another KoangDeLambe comic strip at the usual URL. Folks are gone to the old house. I got my $100 and will save it towards a Macbook Neo if possible. The USD-MYR rate is down from 4.1 ot almost 4.0 but not sure about the memory prices. Hopefully I will be able the purchase the Neo on my birthday, 3 months from now. Quite excited over it. 

Will resume writing project SDM in a few hours. This is one story I did not outline and am just pantsing from start to finish.

. . .

Spent the night fighting with the Liew witches. The westerners are adamant we solve her insurgency ASAP. We actually have no weapons prepared, being a jail and a hospital, a radar installation. But we did the best we could.

Now past 2am. May do a bit of writing later, sleep by 3:30am. 

I designed a simpler compact compound bow...

 

Since I started out with my Mission Hype DT, I realized I had always wanted a smaller bow, and a lighter one. By curving the limbs upwards, the riser can be shorter and lighter. The limbs, rather than compressing, would expand. They could be laminated with tapering strips at a shear angle to the horizontal.

The grip is thrust forward to increase draw length without increasing the bow string length. Cables are also affixed to the S-shaped cams, providing more torque and less complexity.

This is a simple innovation but one that could reduce the cost of compound bows, allow participation by children, and make them more portable.

. . .

I have started on a new novel idea. It's sci-fi, and about dimension shifting. There is a catch / twists which make the book exciting. Am outlining the plot and inserting the characters. Think I can write it in a month if I write every day, circa 1.5k words. There was a lot of down time in the mindspaces so I thought of filling it up. Apparently Sara Lubratt's novella will be sold at MPH but that's around Xmas.

Already past midnight. Have brushed, took my meds, and showered. Workout coming soon. Felt good. Want to talk about a better bow sight.

This is my 'capsule sight-rest' design. It takes the arrow weight and dials the spring tension so the arrow is horizontal. At the same time, this sets the spring / sight pin tension so when the bow is lifted (to shoot far), the sight pin drops by the appropriate amount. It looks simple, but internally, it is a bit complex. 

. . .

Was up lateish. Managed to get cleaned well. My weight is still 1kg over. Don't know how to lose it. Maybe go on more walks. Will be at the mall later. Don't have much to buy tho. Brushed and will shower soon. Liew witchy forces messing with our minds / friends, hit by muscle growth. It is mostly harmless and reversible, tho not immediately so.

We told the story of how fragile the word is when people all use telepathy. How in the last days Chinese people protect the world inside and out. And our plan is a modular, fail-safe plan, ongoing thru all efforts to undermine God and his prophecy. Tonight, we will discuss dealing out something different for our futures. I bought a bottle of low sugar Coke. 

 

Researching Revelations…

They say if you keep at it, you’ll get something from it. I am decoding the part of Rev. where there was war in Heaven leading to the emergence of the 2 beasts. This is in tandem with a publisher considering my flash piece of similar topic.

I feel quite certain I understand the vision John shared and how it will apply to the modern world. Also, signs around when it will occur. I will then sketch it up in a KoangDeLambe comic strip sometime tomorrow or circa midnight. 

Of course, there is no guarantee my story will make it, but it would be a nice coincidence if it did. No guarantee we can understand Rev. fully either.

Now almost 9pm. Will take a rest and code / draw a bit at 10pm.

 

Coding (debugging) is about half done. I need to sort out some more elifs. The latest KoangDeLambe comic strip is up. Go view it if you can. Spent almost an hour researching it and was worried it would not fit on one page.

 

Worked out at 1am and am feeling energized. May sleep by 2am. Was thinking of resting and debugging further. Debugging is proving a little harder than I thought. Lots of weird node values coming out of nowhere.

 

. . .

 

Managed to get cleaned well and am no longer bloated. May venture out at 3pm on a long walk. Should do the Taman Jaya - Asia Jaya route. Seemingly, I gained 1kg overnight. Maybe it's just water retention. We'll see after the walk in the sun.

 

Mom says the air quality out is awful so I may not be able to go on that walk. Lotsa particles, she claimed she could feel. Had lunch of curry and sourdough bread. Talked to some people (from the western regions) about the Beast System over the mindspaces. Talked about prophecy broken -for reasons unknown. And how my situation became the way it is thru no fault of my own. 

 

Good fortune, my net4spice code is working better. I shall soon have the exact results, I hope. Think it's mostly the 1 or 2 / input or output, that got mixed up. Taking  a break for a while. 

I have this old electric mini naan oven...

When I first made my sourdough bread, I noticed it was moist and rather tasty on its own. Things being the way they are, I was thinking of reviving my little one-man bakery to get the most out of our flour and barley meal.

My recipe consists of,

1. Oil
2. Water
3. Atta flour
4. Salt and sugar
5. Milk powder
6. Yeast
7. Vitagen (cultured sour milk)

I don't use starters, so the whole thing ferments overnight in my a/c room circa 25C. Then in the morning, I roll the mix into flats and bake them one by one in the tiny oven.

From what I read, not too much oil, and maybe a little bit more water will help the dough rise better.

. . .

Many minds pressing in on me. I need to rest. Will begin coding at 10pm. Managed to get cleaned well. Will shower soon. Had a few games with SeTT's AI. Conservative play wins the day so it seems. Never let the AI get in between your pieces and attack from both sides.

Seems LiLian and her family have problems. They are pleading with God to use supernatural healing as they took hostage certain important people against the new powers.

Remembering Jesus said my money will come from a house -substantial money, I proposed that the old bungalow be used as a motel / hotel by backpackers. Lotsa people moving thru PJ could lodge there for a small donation. I would need to renovate the bathrooms and to put in some cooling and dust filtration. What does the family think?

Brushed, took my meds. Workout at 2am. 3am, just managed half a workout since I ran earlier. I'm learning about writing from Matesic on YouTube. Today, I learnt about using exposition. It's a tricky skill. This is odd as I don't write anymore but useful for my comic strip.

. . .

Drew my comic strip on KoangDeLambe. Took a shower. Managed to get cleaned well. Coded quite a lot and it's now past 6pm. Will run circa 8pm same as yesterday. 

. . .

Finished my sweeping chores and managed to get my bike tyre pumped up well. Also fixed the tone arm auto-stow with WD40. I took apart the turntable to see if anything went wrong inside but it was just minorly dusty and mostly sealed together -nothing to tweak. Well -glad it works again.

Showered and changed into my running attire. Now 4pm. Will take a break and code at 4:30pm.

Was almost overrun by Liew witches’ lies, having exposed me to a jury of millions of kid and baby minds. I am not perfect but am not a fool or evil person either. Nor am I vengeful, nor do I go behind people’s backs to screw them such as the Liew 6 did. I also don’t enter others’ nerves unlike the Liew 6. Nor do I form up masers or other weapons and point them here and there. Nor do I hate any one person except sometimes the Liew 6.

. . .

Bought Dad an electric branch cutter, well actually I just helped him order it. I have 36RM of credit left in my debit account.

The weather is quite hot and there is a burning odor in the air. I have yet to solve all my coding bugs. Perhaps will work a bit soon. On Monday, I need to draw another KoangDeLambe comic strip. I think it will be about Tribulation, and a few unexpected but logical happenings.

Have just finished researching the material. The strip will be my longest yet, and span a whole page (usually just 1/3). A short rest, then coding resumes.

Cooked dinner for me and the folks. Finished writing 'Broken Hearts' -a song I wrote for Emily. Just 3 chords and it repeats quite elegantly. Quite a memorable melody and lyric. I shall be able to play it on cue.

My speakers are now on thumbtack spikes. I feel they sound clearer and sharper. Will rest a while, then code, and draw. Tomorrow is 8e ABY. I think I know the meaning of the sutra. I will receive a watch from Japan bound in box, rice paper, and fabric, like I saw Britt Pearce unbox on YouTube. It has something to do with the diminishing of computers and my novella (probably iS) being circulated. I dropped off a copy some week ago at BFBW. 

Witchcraft and sorcery…

I have just updated KoangDeLambe with a new comic strip. This one is on witchcraft and sorcery. By request, I am to give out some more background on sorcery that we might fight it effectively.

The Bible (Revelations) mentions people would use sorcery until the very end. Being sinless does not protect a person from witchcraft as he knows many friends who are a little sinful which is enough to spark fear.

Fear, like a herd of buffalo, causes a mass effect ‘magic’ which can be directed at anyone good or evil. The solutions are simple and many. The best ones, as mentioned before IIRC, are;

1. Have as little to do with money / wealth as possible. This is hard but do not value material things over spiritual things by being a little frugal, and not living luxurious.

2. Have as little to do with sex / women or men as possible. Also pretty difficult, but at the very least, learn to be gentlemanly in all its respects.

3. Jesus told me to tell everyone to think of Him -His was the ultimate sacrifice, one that lasts forever -His words do not pass away. So don’t call for Brother Yap to solve this or that. Go straight for Jesus Christ.

. . .

Switched to Thorium-browser (a fork of Google Chrome). Pretty nice and speedy. I have now tidied my room and tomorrow may head out on a long walk. Feeling sleepy.

 

. . .

 

I didn't get to go on a long walk but I went on a medium one instead, to Decathlon to get a new pair of shorts. My regular orange pair had seen better days. Luckily, there was a sale on cotton tees, 10RM a piece. So I spent almost 50RM to get both tee and shorts. They both look great. So my wardrobe now stands at:

 

4 pairs of home-wear (3 Tarmak,  1 Domyos, shorts, 6 eagle king tees)

3 pairs of out-wear (2 Decathlon 1 Under-Armour tees, 2 Dec, 1 Millet shorts)

1 pair of smart wear (Batik shirt, formal shirt, 1 long pants)

 

Somehow I don't accumulate much clothes. 8 outfits is all I got. And I tossed out 3 pairs of shorts and several tees that had seen better days, some of them were a bit pricey as well. 

 

Worked out. Was good. Now almost 2am. RISCOS refuses to run Python3 tacked on from RISCOS Direct (RoD). At least the wifi is stable.

 

. . .

 

I am going to try to extend Netsurf tonight. I will be adding 2 things to the source, one is an interactive html tag stacker, the second is a JavaScript reporter-linker (to the tag stack). This should work well. I will also do lazy loading as it's much needed.

 

The idea is that most people visit the same sites and they are worth tweaking for future visits.

 

. . .

 

William going mad in the mindspaces again. Someone cheated, deceived and squandered his chances -so he believes. It wasn't a good idea to battle the witchy Asian Liews who know no honor, and now try to hide in my space.

 

Have downloaded a toolchain for cross-compiling the browser. Not sure how it works. Am supposed to be coding now but the evil telepathy is intruding. Need a rest. Workout earlier went well. Am feeling healthier. 

I used AI to identify the entry points to the JS and HTML renderer so things will go faster, what I planned. Now I need to self-design some sort of custom interface to blur off cpu and memory sucking parts so a page may load and be usable on a low end system. Was thinking, a config file generator would be simplest. Syntax unknown.

 

I think the easiest way is to add CSS and maybe JavaScript connected to the CSS and also add classes to bloated HTML tags. Then run a general turn on-turn off with what we did also exposed in the site config file. 

 

. . . 

 

Went for a run and had yongtaufu for dinner. Feeling better. Celebs came to save me from the average westerner who'd run amok due to the pressures of these end times. 'Many shall be offended and leave the faith'. According to Pastor Aaron ATL on YouTube, offense is primarily due to feeling treated bad by God or His people. Whereas Jesus did warn us of it, and told us not to be troubled or worry. Myself have told many to 'do more stuff' with your life. Buy things you like, learn and contribute code etc. Write a song on your guitar.

 

Jesus told me, 10 years ago, start buying things you like, especially clothes. The Lord knew what we all are and how we spoil!

 

Fiction: Seasons of the Soul

Seasons of the Soul

For it shall attempt to change the law and the times.

“They seem to be in separate worlds, don’t they?”

“Necessitously,” I replied. The crowd about Market Square was divided into the methodical; the mechanistic; those with grace, and people whose shadows barely fell, much less lingered. “If I may ask, what’s your reference?”

“When the wife passed, and I retired, I was told to keep the hours. After the ol’ ticker went coin-op, they gave me the sundial. I noticed yours hasn’t got a seconds hand.”

“It was removed. I write songs, and some decided I wasn’t punctual, least of all prolific.”

“Well, the less you care, the more you actually achieve -don’t you think?”

I considered his philosophizing, being the son of a Parisian who eloped to paint the English weather, with a mahout re-commissioned as a sitarist. 

“Forgive me if I don’t fully process,” I said, glancing at the hand grazing the minute track, “I fear I shall be late for yet another appointment.” It was aesthetically abrupt, having formed a link between streams, one going fast, the other, very slow. Au revoir, my friend, anyhow.

“By the way, what shall we call one another?” I frowned.

“Gary to you,” quipped the old-timer.

“I’m Paco, c’est francais.”

We shook hands. I picked up my gig bag, walking briskly to the tram.

The guitar lesson was in a side auditorium of the town council building. I caught her staring at her watch. It was gold-filled but at that distance, impossible to read. I hurried down the steps, and she got up, looking my way. I took her hand and pretended to kiss it, “Enchante, mademoiselle.”

My gaze fell, and so did hers.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like the dress.” It was shimmering green, flaring all the way to her heels, off-shoulder, her skin, flecked marble, a tumble of boulders nestled in gathered silk.

“Not at all. I was comparing our times.”

“Oh this?” She laughed, “It’s the same as yours -no seconds hand.” She squeezed it to her jaw.

I smiled to myself, “You have to part your legs when you hold the guitar, and slant it upright.”

She smiled back, her lashes and lower lip dropped. She was young and I had to be careful.

Midway the span of lessons, during which I imparted all my expertise, defining the rules of music, describing each one’s peculiar beauty, I was summoned to the Bureau of Regulations for special audit.

Waiting, I heard a familiar voice. Was it my new friend?

“Gary!” I called.

“Paco, oh, my God, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been h-handed my tape!”

Everyone had tape. A single strip of it. They say it ranged anywhere from a few feet to several meters, operated over and correlated to everyone else’s by a monolithic Turing machine.

“Says here, this was where we met. Here, where I’m invited for a wedding -your wedding, Oh God, and on this end,” his fingers tugged on the strip of symbols, “Here, look...”

A life fast losing its spring. I had seen enough. “Have they removed your watch?” I offered to swipe my Kreditz across his pacemaker but Gary held me off. “I can’t take your money.” He pointed to his ear and shuddered. There it was pinned, ticking at a precise 10 beats per second. “So I’ll know when to do what.”

He fed more tape, muttering absentmindedly, “Imogen, my daughter -she’s in love with you.”

I took a mental step back, not surprised -merely dazed by the circumstances.

* * *

“Have you got your seconds, then?” She purred, setting up for the lesson.

“Why?”

I was in no hurry to reply, having arrived comfortably ahead. Things change with the granularity of what one is afforded.

“Because, if you marry me, we can both have it.”

“Then why not?” I said, as she was comely, beautiful.

“Say ‘yes’,” she drew closer. And I obliged.

“Be gentle on me,” she whispered into my ear, as our cheeks brushed, “I have my daddy’s heart.”

Once again, I saw Gary, ill, living by the hour; then diurnally; now waiting on a calendar of disjointed events unworthy of further process. In her arms, I had felt passion, swelling by the second, really they were squares on tape moved so quickly over, that nobody noticed. She spread her knees, cradling the guitar upright. And so the music lesson resumed.

...that the justification [for machines] lies in the fact that human memory [being a function of time] is necessarily limited [by it]. -Alan M. Turing

 

I dropped off a copy of 'iS' at BFBW...

So my novella may soon be on a bookshelf somewhere in PJ / KL. Am excited for someone to pick it up and read it. And hope they won't destroy or steal it and throw it away. Such are the tactics of the evil witchy Liews.

Am feeling a little sleepy and tender, tho not coughing as much. Had a very light lunch out at the mall, just a Japanese rice cake, so I'll have to get more in shortly. Ate a sausage roll Mom bought and took a shower after getting cleaned well. Feeling more comfortable. 

I still have one more copy of 'iS' which I probably will keep for future needs. Am thinking of 100% retiring from writing. Want to do an abridged audiobook of SDU as a guy I met on Quora says they're all the rage -I was behind the times, reading off paper. I did like the smell of a freshly opened novel tho. Maybe always will. Will start tonight, chapter by chapter. There are 10 of them.

. . .

Helped Mom bake / roast some chicken with garlic, butter, yogurt, salt, and parsley. Should be tasty and brown well. My (extended) family is using me almost to the max to stave off old age diseases. I am just 50 years old this year. Remnants of a mind war fought during the time of British rule. Grandpa was a Mensa capable who was oppressed and he amassed lotsa kunchu to carry on the feud. But it's eating our family -just ask any of them, it's hard to hide.

I urged them to drink a little Coke now and then, reduced sugar Coke. Keeps the mind and all body systems a little more alert so things can be warded off or blocked easier.

Now past 6pm and I have yet to find the bugs in net4spice. I know, n4s seems like vaporware but it is actually still being improved / fixed.

. . .

The Liew witches are massing power against the West and by request, there are some things we can do while not breaking prophecy,

1. control currency, beginnings of beast mark taken by Christians eventually

2. control sex, and let it outburst at a later time also via Christians

3. legalize drugs like small doses of coca1ne or marijuana to ease suffering.

I know it might be controversial, but this is a good template for stressing and releasing when faced with telepathy.

I will be reading Sanderson’s Steelheart next week. From the sample pages, it looks to be good. A superhero novel like SDU. Supposed to have been pubbed in 2013, 13 years ago, discovered on the 13th of August by me. It reads very smooth. The action sequences are choreographed very nicely, couldn’t put it down so I will soon have my first BS novel. In my middle age, to consume lotsa books…?

Read my SubStack (free) for some very odd synchronicity and full disclosure that I used a bit of Google Translate in iS.

 

. . .

 

Am coding at 2am. Will work out a bit later, circa 3am. A pretty hot and humid night even with aircond on auto / quiet mode. Solution is in sight but there's lotsa telepathic disturbances. A group of people who let fly in the mindspaces have nowhere to go but to cannibalize kind people they know. There must be a solution...  

 

. . .

 

Friday, I am still coding n4s. Think I almost got it. The I-Ching said to prepare to defend my case against / for AI, so I wrote a Medium article on it. ‘7 days before, 7 days after’.

The serious business of religion...

By request, I am to explain whether I am a real Christian, a false Christian, an apostate, a gnostic, a spy for Rome, or just a prodigal returning home. Personally, I feel that this is a private matter but due to witchy LiLian, people around PJ were hustled into making their case against me.

This shouldn't shock anybody, but I do pray, and it is short and comes often, because I notice many things needful of prayer. I and God have an open line because of the childhood mishaps I suffered, dealing with LiLian's family and the western 'mind intruders'. Even Gabriel is near by -you can test it if you want.

Also, not a surprise, is that I find and have always known the Bible teachings since the 90s to be full of euphemisms if not misleading terminology (indoctrination). And where they say they do not know or are unsure -there is nothing to grasp onto. Jesus simply did not say.

Finally, and I have already stated this somewhere, I had serious doubts about Christianity, spirituality etc. because I read the manual but never operated the car. So I never knew the way and at nearly 50 years old, am finally beginning to understand the gist of the Bible.

Unfortunately, my widely known 'palsy' which I term stroke, prevents me from memorizing things well. Thus this is wrote down here if anyone wants to know if I'm a Christian. More stuff to be tacked on later... 

. . .

By request, I have to talk more on false teachers and how they deceived many. What went wrong. Didn't Jesus say this would happen (in mindspace)?

The main issue with people is that they fight God. We don't hate God. We don't obey Him 100% and that causes us suffering. For reasons, I will use myself as an example. When I was young, and you better believe it, the Spirit came unto me and saved me from certain death just before I was born and punched up in the womb. Then God spoke to me personally -never give up fighting, He said, But I took too much rests, being newborn, and he cursed me with a life of suffering. Another time, I asked to be delivered a Bible (don't ask *shame*) and it was delivered but for years afterwards, I was walked to Salvation and Evangel to buy Bibles I didn't need.

So you see how God loves us even as we fight Him by being lazy or idiotic, what not. We have to learn, obedience to God keeps us safe. Especially the little lambs and humble sheep. I as a shepherd under Christ, also have to obey more frequently or I will lose the Lord's trust.

By request I am to say a prayer. Be vigilant in these times, that nobody creep up to you and steal your wedding garment -thieves of false teachings that rob you of your beauty which the Lord loves you for. This I pray in Jesus' name -Amen. 

. . .

"In theological and biblical contexts, "sensualizing the gospel" ... means twisting the good news of Jesus Christ to pander to human physical desires, earthly lusts, or carnal pleasures rather than calling people to spiritual holiness, repentance, and transformation of the heart"

 

Forgive the AI reply to my question. It is accurate (these days AI answers searches first YMMV). I do not know how to sensualize the gospel to be honest. Don't mix business with pleasure. Give to God what is God's and to the World what is from the world. Jesus never said we can't masturbate privately, or have sex with our girlfriends who are of the faith, that we must eat boiled fish and unleavened bread. Jesus never said a man cannot look at a beautiful woman or think of her.

 

I think the issue lies in 2 things: a form of letting your hands know what each is doing; and neglecting or putting aside practicing of good deeds.

 

Sure you may say, brother Yap says sex / sexuality is not evil, but do you want sex over a Bible retreat? Of course not. Plus it's a good place to share heart to heart tales that build up everyone and find you someone special. There is power in male-female relationships -I have experienced touch-love. Just a glance and I was filled with love so strong, I touched her again, not on any private location, and it came back, a little diminished.

 

Everything good is out there for the humble, and brave, to enjoy, in moderation, within reason, and in purity. Just meaning it goes without guilt or shame. All this happened to me as I worked in the vineyard, as John told me to, whence I was loitering around the marketplace.

 

Fiction: Behind This Little Cafe [part 4 -the end]

4. The back of the little cafe

One day, as living on ‘MySara’ sustenance money began to drag, Mala, eating Cheezeballs from a giant no-brand family-sized packet, Jacob told her, “There’s this place where hookers hang out. I found it -behind this little cafe...”

“Jacob, WHAT do you have to do with hookers?” She was breast-feeding their child.

“See, I can’t work much, nor can you, but we could all eat better for cheap -why not go over and see?”

Mala and Jacob held hands as they walked down the row of coffee joints, sushi bistros, and trendy book clubs where everyone was in turtlenecks. These gave way to betting agencies, hole in the wall takeaways, then a thicket of mulberry trees. They pushed through up to a doorstep obscured by dense branches and the buzzing of hornets. He rapped on it nervously, and a slot slid open. “I’m Jacob Wee, this is my wife, Mala.”

“Mala, who lost the Oakleys and purse, and you, who cleaned The Alley -okay, okay, wait -ah”

They heard a shaky hand jiggle a bunch of keys, then a lock turn, and they saw the leper who ran the place. The little cafe at the end of nowhere. Behind him, walls seared by a blaze -a fire, long ago -burn them all off their town, some young guns tried. 

Instead, it facilitated a narrow, hidden stairway down to a moody basement cafe, lined with standing candles and purple stucco hung with tribal masks. It was half dark but they glimpsed his disfigurement -one of his hands, gnarled. He walked with a limp towards the back, where a sign hung, 

‘Now the Lord God planted a garden east of Eden.’

“What is this place?” She peeled back dense foliage where naked bodies were joining.

“It exists for lonely people, for clean love. In reality it is but an illusion.”

“Isn’t this illegal? Jacob, what were you thinking?”

“Mala, wait. This is a good place and Eric is trustworthy. Maybe this is where we can start again.”

Eric showed them from the mirror-windowed control room, how filtered, subtly-strobing lights created the illusion of dense 3D vegetation, while ionized vapor and a loopy audio track set the stage for the olfactory sensations. There were tall stands of artificial plants here and there to give structure to the illusion.

“The hookers, are they also illusions?” Mala whispered.

More men got up from their tables and entered the garden which now featured a realistic waterfall and tropical birdsong. “No, but they’re ugly,” Eric glared at her.

Mala looked closely and saw they were all lepers like their boss. None of them really joined in the flesh. It was all simulated.

Eric showed them to a table. “You seen 2 sick heads buying beer and condoms at the mini mart? Who’d ever give them a ride but my ladies? And dang, they knew it!”

“Where are they now? When do they visit?”

But Eric kept silent, his dark face stretched with a broad smile. “They’ll soon get what they deserve. Have some fried chicken, Texas style.”

Mala bit into the crispy battered wings. Her eyes sparkled as she held his hand. Jacob, with that same far away look. A Swipe-n-Pay card was left on the table, 'Barney Liu', it read. Beside it, her lost purse. They charged their meal to the card. 

 

Fin.

I bought a plastic fife (traditional flute) by Yamaha...

I had $15 left in my debit account so I bought it without thinking much. It's quite a charming instrument to behold, made out of creamy smooth plastic, curvy in some places, with lip guards over the blow hole. It has actually got 8 holes arranged non-linear down the body, tho you only really need to operate 7 holes (ignoring the underside one, permanently closed).

It comes as a 2 piece fit which makes it portable for busking. But personally, I think its 34cm length is okay as it is. The tuning is quite interesting and allows me to play quite a number of popular songs more easily than on bamboo flute -without having to trial and error arrange them.

Fife, where have you been all my life?

To make the flute sing, you have to force air at medium velocity across the hole in a focused fashion, meaning making a pinhole with your lips. Sharper blows produce a higher octave easily. My technique is to gently push my lower lip against the lip guards (see pic above), which are on either side of the blow hole. It is wrong to rotate the fife, rather it has an adjustment round the back so you can vary the angle of your breath across the blow hole. Mine is almost negative 2. After that, it should resonate with a deep, warm sound.

Trust me, it's doable and quite fun. If you're thinking of other types of flute, consider this one as well -it's well worth $15. 

Fiction: Behind This Little Cafe [part 3]

3. Playing the blues


Mala wasn’t the same since their shameful exit from the expensive eatery. Jacob decided to take a job while she, pregnant, rested at home. He had made her pregnant. “Think of it as a gift” -and she loved it. All was forgiven.


Meanwhile, he bought a tough brush and cleaning powder from the dollar store, a pair of thick rubber gloves and boots; and proceeded to clean the stretch of back lane along where their flat was. He started at 11pm, after all the businesses had closed. The next morning, he sent out flyers to all the shops to open up al-fresco along the alley way. It was cool much of the day from its tall walls. Meanwhile, every night, he ferried trash bins to the end of the block to keep it clean. He made a lot of friends among migrant workers, and substantial money too. But there were those who were unhappy with that.


Shortly, the curtain that separated the two families was drawn back as they awaited the birth of their grandchild, and renewed prosperity.


“We have a clever son-in-law,” said Mala’s father, “And a good man.”


Jacob scrubbed the street every night past midnight most nights, as patrons were used to staying late. They were just everyday people, not wealthy, come for cheap food and beer and a comfortable space to talk. One night, as he was dragging the trash bins, he was surrounded by teenagers.


“You think we forget so easily?”


“Forget what?”


“You’re an eyesore, friend. Hey, an eyesore pervert cleaned up this street and wants a living. Shall we let him take over this turf?”


The leader, who was bigger than him shoved his chest, “I want this back alley. Mine -you understand?”


“Then I will just clean it.”


There was a tear that welled up in the leader’s eye. Out of his pocket, he fished out Jacob’s Oakleys. He put them on and slicked back his hair, “How do I look?”


Then he took them off and snapped them in half. He placed them in Jacob’s hands, looked him in the eye, and said, “Come on, let’s go.”


Mala’s family gave Jacob some fragrant oils as over time, he began to acquire an odor. He also coughed and sneezed more. And it was after their child was born, he admitted he could no longer be the trash collector of their alley, much less the janitor. He wasn’t built for such hard work.


“You shouldn’t have done it,” Mala said.


“I have no regrets. I made friends. I made business better. *cough*”


The afternoons grew increasingly hot and it seemed sometimes, like a dry dusty wind blew among the shacks and shoeboxes. People’s clothes changed. They wore checks and plaid where rips wouldn’t show so easily. Most of them, elderly, riding electric scooters that had seen better days. Their alley was an oasis in the desert of hard times. Mala’s granny gave him a harmonica. She hesitated as she placed it in his hands. It felt heavy, made fully of metal.


So he busked the blues -and became rather good at it. What his wife hadn’t told him was that money was running out on both sides of their family.

The Optical Banana Bow Sight

Being cheap and innovative, I came up with this very simple bow sight idea. I call it the Optical Banana. To calibrate it, make a slit in some plastic. Then separate the slit by wedging it half backways and half frontways (so there is a small non-linear gap between top and bottom of the cut.

Next, draw with a marker, a line from the top to the bottom, passing over the slit. Draw with another color, next to the first mark, and so on as necessary. 

What happens is when you lift the bow, the gap between upper and lower converges and is indicative of the longer distance aimed at ballistically. At further distances, the slit, made wider, converges upper and lower of the next color marking. The width of the slit is configurable via sliding the wedges.

IMHO, a very simple and fun project to build and test. There may be professionally-made ones available from America soon, as they inquired about it. But for now, I have a bow sight, at least one that doesn't suck.

Think I will make mine from card for now, with a metal clip as the wedge width calibrator. Sometime tonight.

. . .

Am wearing my Mudman 9300 Solar on a 22mm NATO. The previous Velcro just didn't feel right. Nor did the original rubber strap. Drank a lot of Coke and took in some sun which helped with my chest infection / cough since yesterday. Hope to head out tomorrow for a walk. Also have to finish up my short story.

Just past 10pm. Must do some coding on n4s which I had neglected.

. . .

Today, my shrink appointment. Was up early, managed to get cleaned well. Feeling a little weak and phlegmy this morning. Got a little coding done. Brought along a face mask.

Fiction: Behind This Little Cafe [part 2]

2. Misunderstandings and Loss

Barney and K-why shopped at the supermarket behind the dollar store. They bought beer and condoms. K-why smiled conspiratorially and the cashier, polite, just replied “have a good time, sir.”

“By the way, have you seen a tall, handsome young guy in Oakleys?”

“Sure, he comes by often, buys Coke and ice cream.”

“Huh,” said Barney “He takes pictures of young girls -find out for yourself. Spread the word, he’s a lecher and a thief.”

“One on one,” K-why made 2 intersecting Vs with his fingers, and they laughed each other silly. 

Standing outside, Mala heard them, and reported it to Jacob. “You better do something,” she said, “what else have you been hiding -lah”

“I haven’t been hiding anything -it’s all lies”

“I don’t know if I should see you anymore...”

That evening, the dividing vinyl curtain was somehow locked. Jacob went up to the roof and Mala was sitting, legs dangling off the side that faced the bright lights, the entertainment businesses, and boutique eateries.

She heard him, “leave me alone.”

But he put his Oakleys over her eyes. She felt for them and smiled. Then took a selfie with her mobile. He held her, tears streaking down his face.

Very soon, he became known as ‘Jacob the Crook’, ‘Hated Jacob’. People slipped laxatives in his coffee, and talked about him on the train. Others reported him as a sex offender at the rail station.

But Mala had made a lot more since sporting his sleek Oakleys. Some things were simply worth the money -evergreen. He met her at the station, where she returned from her new job as a grid girl at the race track. They liked her slightly bigger two front teeth and ‘high class’ vibe.

“Have to stand under an umbrella, in the sun. And have to wear this,” her hands described the cut of her sexy outfit. “I’m Indian -lah, sun’s no big deal,” she propped up the expensive American-made lenses on her forehead. Her eyes were sparkling.

At her urging, they stepped into the popular boutique eatery, as she was loaded and dressed to kill. It was their first time inside.

There were whispers when the other couples saw them. “Isn’t he the handsome guy who takes and doesn’t pay? They say he likes looking girls up and down.”

“Sir, you pay up front, someone spoke over his shoulder.”

“I’m paying,” Mala said.

“Then it’s okay, " announced the manager, “his girlfriend is rich.”

Jacob looked on, emotionless. They drank the low-alcohol beer and had their fill of tapas. Mala held his hand and smiled, just like all the girls were doing. Well, if she likes it, he thought to himself. He could sense the scoffers ready to unleash.

“We’d better go now,” he took her arm.

“Why leave so soon? Air here too expensive for you; $100 a month. Drive a Proton Saga -lah. Eh -BICYCLE only,” the cozy joint broke out in a wall of laughter.

“Jacob, have you seen my purse?”

“Thieves get paid back,” someone called, but he didn’t turn to look.

So they left the $1,000 Oakleys as surety, to looks of distaste.

“How much was in your purse?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He knew, from her frown, it was wildly more than she had expected.

Fiction: Behind This Little Cafe [part 1]

1. Behind This Little Cafe

A family with a handsome young son moves into a small shoebox shack neighborhood and everyone is excited. When his sinister shadowers arrive, confusion and mistrust quickly set in. But help is there even in the darkest hours from the ones who appear dumb poor, but in fact are humble and blessed.

1. The new boy in town

There was a bustling shanty town, lying like a rough encrusted gem, about a run down repurposed cinema with its parking lot of dollar-store customers. Shacks, shoeboxes strewn around brick and mortars, increasingly taken up by millennial entrepreneurs. So it was that my friend Jacob, his mother and father, came to live in a third floor half-flat overlooking a stenching back lane strewn with mangled rats and sour rotting trash.


The flat was partitioned with a vinyl curtain that felt like the lino flooring and there were only 2 shared bathrooms. On the other side, there was a Chinese-Indian family with a daughter. He had never liked the word ‘Chindian’, but that was what Malaysians called them. Her skin was smokey and her wavy hair had natural body. But it was her almondish eyes and buck teeth that gave away what she and himself shared. Looking at her, he saw himself, it was like she was his cousin yet, being alone with her, chaperoned, office hours, only by her granny who couldn’t hear, they told each other the stories of their hearts. And they shared love in small shallow dips.


The metro station was visible from the roof of the building he lived in. And in between drawing his Christian comic strip which earned him a paltry $100 a month (besides state benefits to cover groceries), he rode the rails. And they were his window into worlds of which he never suspected existed. He saw a cash box courier with spiked gauntlets and collar; girls with boobs out to there, cosplay babes, and travellers from the west where everything was better made, from their clothes to their packs, to their hair and complexions.


His was a life on hold. He wanted a sign to hold up: ‘please don’t mind me’. But by and large, maybe because he wore Oakleys, girls did dance a little as they passed by. He didn’t protest, even if he couldn’t drive them to Uptown for dinner.


She revealed something to him one day, as they leaned against the rail of his balcony. “Call me something -lah.”


“What do you mean?”


“You’re Jacob. Pure Chinese. I’m just a rojak mixed blood. Give me a name.”


“Jesus loves you. Whatever your name, however you look.”


“Give me a name doesn’t mean Jesus anything.” she proceeded to peel off her top and unbutton her jeans. “Give me YOUR name.”


Soy forms curd on top of its milk. It was skimmed off and left to dry in the sun. And they loved, between the sheets of the delicacy, hung on the rooftop lines. Hers was wet when they had finished. And his was spent dry. There was stain like cheap school glue over the pitted concrete they lay on. And nobody cared, or would bother later.


“Where do you work?”


It came reluctantly, “I’m a food promoter. I just stand there outside the airconned shop, with makeup and a tight skirt. They pay me almost nothing except their expensive logo T-shirt.”


“I know you’re an artist and a leader.” She rolled on top of him, her fists on his chest. But her granny’s voice came calling from below.