The Practical Revolution

With the surprising finale of the F1 season for this cycle, I am inspired…

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I must admit that despite my eloquence and my apparent maturity, I am but a youth in his prime. Therefore, it is not strange that I suffer from the adolescent delusion of immortality and juvenile illusion of invulnerability to find it particularly exhilarating to speed on the many highways that are like arteries of our dear nation. Do not get me wrong; I still feel that a horrific accident involving some reckless driver’s brittle tin cans will cause my demise but hey, I am Superman now.

Being a reckless driver myself, prudent parties are not wrong to assume that I am courting Death (heard she is hot, albeit a little gothic) with my lackadaisical outlook. However, with the gridlock of motor inactivity plaguing our urban lifestyle lately, it is difficult - if not nigh impossible - to find a good long stretch when we can spur our mobile metal home to purr like it wants to. Alas, the short winding roads are a worthy price to pay in exchange for the many luxuries we enjoy.

Do not be too discouraged though, because other claustrophobic metropolitans are mushrooming throughout the world, urging an increasing demand for alternative adrenaline inducers. So when a racing-themed movie based in compact Japan was released not-so-recently, like mindless sheep, our nation’s youths embraced this new fad of negotiating tight turns without compromising speed. So while some arses vented their pent up aggression by weaving through traffic in the vehicle of their choice and somehow survived (for now) to brag about it; their equally dimwit counterparts are boasting about their latest drifting stint at some obscure location.

As indicated by my affiliation with IDIOT, I have no interest in swimming in the sea of conformity of course. Besides, with my bold driving and the resulting damages, who in the right mind would want to splash another few hundred dollars to frequently replace their worn-out tires? I seriously doubt any ladies with their wits intact would find the screeching of tires sexy anyway. Talk about torturing the ears! Heck, if you ask me, I would rather play around with this other gear rod of mine to make some other pretty thing scream (in ecstasy). But that’s just me and you did not ask, so let us keep that story for another day in another post.

No, my pursuit for adrenaline comes not from such orthodox endeavours. You will be surprised what little joys I can derive from the daily clogging of roads. If you are proactively looking for it, or if you are as sharp-minded as yours truly, such inconspicuous achievements on your travels will not elude your weak-handed grasps. Similar to other great skills, this guilty pleasure I have been rambling about goes by many names; the most prevalent one being Defensive Driving.

Yes, this is my declaration of my advocacy to Defensive Driving. Which intelligent city rat would not? It is after all tremendously effective (and enjoyable) when navigating within a metropolitan. But wait a minute; do I hear a whisper of ignorance? You should read more, my dear readers. If nothing else, you should know this: it is the failure of one Lewis Hamilton to master this technique that he is not the youngest F1 winner ever (yet).

The Quinquagenary

It is very uplifting to find so many fellow countrymen bloggers across the globe deferred from their usual depressive and/or hostile perspective on life and dedicated an exclusive entry within their private digital domains, just to commemorate the Golden Anniversary of our Nationhood.

I may not be the most ardent patriot, but considering how those within my circle of influence are professing their love for the nation, is there any doubt I would participate and celebrate such an accomplishment as well? Heck, even the staunchest critics that I had to convince of the wonders of our country are offering congratulations for this milestone. Well, notwithstanding the fact that beautiful women in their best attire flourished the festivity for me, that is. =)

It is equally encouraging to discover the number that had congregated at a ‘lesser known secret hideout’ that offers a full panoramic view of our distinguished Asian capital. Despite the rampant incredulous logic to evoke racism among the people that has plagued our political scene of late, to find a patient crowd of all demographics lingering past the hour mark after the countdown for a mere glimpse of the customary firework display, definitely made a Malaysian proud.

Alas, most turned back disappointed, for even from an elevated height, the more entertaining use of gunpowder could not overcome the buildings we have and rival the stars. (Yes ladies, there WERE fireworks. Sorry about that.) I am not sure that fact alone should invigorate my patriotism or douse it though. Should I be upset that our country did not invest in a definite crowd pleaser to commemorate such an event? Or should I be proud that our nation boasts skyscrapers that could obstruct a soaring exhibition? That is a thought for another day. At the moment, I am just grateful for the pleasant company that night of many firsts.

The Speculation

Although blogs range from a collection of mindless photo journals to an anthology of outstanding daily chronicles to a compilation of thought provoking pieces, there seem to be a mutual attribute that ascend online journals from the sea of mediocrity: format consistency; regular updates; and constant up-keeping. Obviously, mine feature neither of these.

It’s been more than a fortnight since my last post, yet I have refrained from adding any interesting insights of mine to my previous post, disappointing many I’m sure. Well I guess this epitomize the direction for the rest of my writings: I write for pleasure, not for pressure. Then again, don’t hold it against me if I amend my position when my fan-base increases in magnitude.

In spite of the title of this web-waste, procrastination did not rear its ugly head throughout most tempting times. Instead of composing paragraphs of nonsensical ideas and opinions like a true procrastinator would, I found myself engrossing myself with paragraphs of relevant concepts and procedures in the form of official manuals over my last fortnight at work.

However, this does not denote the absence of thought and its subsequent desire to express them. In fact I’ve been mulling over this latest entry for days now yet I can’t seem to convey the vague ideas into actual words. It doesn’t help too when I procrastinate so much. Hey, don’t blame me. Consider the sheer number of luxuries I can indulge in. Besides, being the procrastinator I am, isn’t it generally accepted to find me procrastinating from procrastination?

So maybe I’ll stop blogging and let it die a natural death…

On second thought, maybe I should weather this mental impediment and persevere on. Too many a time have I preached to others on the healthiness of blogging. A firm believer of the psychological benefits of intrapersonal communication, all the encouragements to friends to continue in their endeavours of online journaling would be put into disrepute should I not practice the same. Heck, I’ll be labelled as a hypocrite.

With that, hopefully another post of a banal, poor attempt on self-discovery will emerge on this page again. Don't hold your breaths though, as I have just begun my journey towards traditional self actualization, otherwise known as another phase in my latest project. Who knows? Maybe in another procrastinating moment I might actually compose something astounding to avoid working on an all important report due the next day.

Till next time, God bless. God bless us all.