Chenisms

I bid thee adieu

2008-06-18T01:31:00.002+10:00

Dear Blogger,

I am sorry that I have to tell you this in such a manner. I don't know how else to tell you. I do not want to hurt your feelings, but... truth be told, I have moved on. I've been seduced by another. I honestly didn't mean for it to happen - especially so soon - but now that it has, I can't stay in this relationship any longer.

I found myself faced with the reality that you can no longer satisfy my needs, nor support me in what I want to achieve. In fact, at times you've made it difficult in not allowing me to spread my wings. But now, I've found another who understands what I need and can provide me with that support. I wish it didn't have to end like this, but I have to do what's best. I hope you understand as I would truly like to remain friends. After all, you have been there for me when I have been down, contemplative, angry and just plain confused. Whilst I appreciate what you had to offer, it's no longer enough. I have wants and desires that you cannot begin to fathom, let alone satisfy.

To me, you are familiar and safe, and I never intended to leave you... but I met another who has opened my eyes. It was lust at first sight. I know it's terrible to say it, but the one I am leaving you for is superior to you in almost every respect. Perhaps they're not as conventionally good-looking, but we both know attraction and a fulfilling relationship is based on so much more than that.

As we've always had a relationship based on honesty, I need to tell you the truth - for my sake and for yours... I was seduced by your enemy and rival, Wordpress.com. I have to confess that we've been having secret liaisons... as I couldn't leave you without knowing that I would be happy with Wordpress. I feel so ashamed. I want you to know that we haven't taken things to the next level, but I feel it will happen soon. The main reason I haven't opened up fully with Wordpress is because I couldn't live with the guilt of not telling you the truth first.

Blogger, if I have caused you pain, I am deeply sorry. We had our share of fun and memories, and I hope you will eventually be able to look back fondly on our relationship together, and perhaps even find it in your server to forgive me. When you do, you are welcome to come visit me at http://chenisms.wordpress.com

Adieu,

Chen.

P.S. We'll always have Paris...

Why I am not a morning person

2008-06-13T17:06:00.003+10:00

Simply put, <--- this is NOT a hair product. In case you can't see it, it's L'oreal's "Skin Exhilarating Cleansing Mousse" which does not belong in your hair. It seems hazardous to shape it like a hair product... on the upside, at least it didn't end up on dessert or something.

Indiana rant - part 2

2008-06-13T16:49:00.004+10:00

No need for words. It is summarised in comic form <here>

In other news... guess what I just bought? 840 minutes of <Smurf-alicious> entertainment!

Poll results

2008-06-12T15:20:00.003+10:00

In the spirit of 'When Harry Met Sally' - can men and women really just be best friends?

Yes: 30.4%
Conditions apply: 52.2%
No: 17.4%

Observation - Not enough voters were female, or option six, "members of the opposite sex are idiots" would surely have polled higher.

Actual poll results:
30.4% : Of course - I'm proof!
30.4% : Yes - in theory
17.4% : Only if at least one party is committed to someone else
4.4% : Only if at least one is gay
4.4% : No - the 'sex' part always gets in the way
13.0% : No - because members of the opposite sex are idiots

Carried away by Sex and the City

2008-06-06T11:52:00.005+10:00

Where to begin? My ex said that he found the movie "pretty terrible" and therefore I'd probably like it. So did I like the movie? Of course. Do I hate it when he's right? Very much so. Did the movie have flaws? Yes. Am I going to bitch about it in the same way I did with Indiana? No.

Sorry to disappoint. I say no simply because aside from some ridiculously horrendous "fashion"... there wasn't much about the movie itself to rip into, though I will concede one thing. It does send out a serious promotion of superficiality and endorsement of materialism which I find rather reprehensible. Whilst it's fitting for the characters, I hope to never become a person loves labels more than people and spends $500 on a cushion (shoes, however, are a different story). Ultimately however, it's a character based film and it did a good job of keeping true to the characters that we (or at least, my girlfriends and I) know and love. Knowing them so well means that elements are bound to be predictable.. but what can I say? There were no Saucer Men.

The main reason that has made me deviate from my original intention to review the movie itself is a sad revelation, which clicked when I was in bed this morning unable to get up to face the world..... I. am. Carrie.

This shits me to no end. For those who don't know the series probably and have no idea what this means... So simply put - of all the characters, Carrie is the least likable. She lacks the sweetness of Charlotte, the confidence and wit of Samantha and the pragmatism and grounding of Miranda. She is a self-centred flake too absorbed in her own issues to be a good a friend to the fantastic girls around her and has a history of making some really, really shit decisions.

The fact that I even feel a need to write this as I sit in front of my Macbook pisses me off even more. At least she got paid for this kind of thing.... Anyway, I don't intend on ruining the movie for those who haven't yet seen it and want to (in which case you should still probably stop reading here just in case)... so I will say no more but this:

What bugged me most about how the movie ends is what happens with Carrie. Why? Because as much as I wish I could be a Samantha and not have my happiness depend on someone else's... I can't. Time might have changed me, but it hasn't managed to change how I actually feel. I'm still just as much of a sucker as Carrie is, and despite declaring that I would never subject myself to the possibility of feeling all that pain again... I know I would. Not going to happen, of course, since my life is not a Hollywood chick-flick where everything gets tied up in a neat little bow.

Needless to say, this will probably be my last blog post for a while.

Excited about Sex

2008-06-05T12:47:00.004+10:00

For those of you who live under a rock - Sex and the City opens in Australian cinemas today. So what are you waiting for? Slip on a pair of killer heels and head down to a cinema near you!*

*This public announcement is brought to you by 'Chenisms' on behalf of the Sex and the City team and in conjunction with Spielberg's "I apologise for the lump of crap that was branded the latest Indiana flick."

And yes - I promise to be as unbiased as I was with Indy (if you can call my love/hate relationship with Lucas unbiased) when I review this film... especially since disappointing sex is worse than no sex at all... or so I hear.

The Spirit of Capitalism

2008-06-04T10:07:00.008+10:00

"...the summum bonum of this ethic, the earning of more and more money, combined with the strict avoidance of all spontaneous enjoyment of life, is above all completely devoid of any eudaemonistic, not to say hedonistic, admixture. It is thought of so purely as an end in itself, that... it appears entirely transcendental and absolutely irrational. Man is dominated by the making of money, by acquisition as the ultimate purpose of his life. Economic acquisition is no longer subordinated to man as the means for the satisfaction of his material needs. This reversal of what we should call the natural relationship, so irrational from a naïve point of view, is evidently as definitely a leading principle of capitalism as it is foreign to all peoples not under capitalistic influence."

- Weber, M. (1904). The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, p. 53 (own emphasis)

In short: The smurfs, under Papa Smurf (aka. 'Uncle Karl - admit it, he looks like Marx) were happy. We, the products of a greedy capitalist society... are not. How do we fix this? By singing the Smurfingly awesome tune - you know you want to!

La, la, la, la, la, la, sing a happy song
La, la, la, la, la, la, Smurf the whole day long

*whistle*... Smurf along with me... simple as can be!

Next time you're feeling blue just let a smile begin,
Happy things will come to you - so Smurf yourself a grin!

And I promise - no more Smurfs after this. It's just Pablo has threatened to chew my ass if I emo-out... and the Smurfs are obviously the cure to all things emo.

George Lucas should go choke on a smurf

2008-06-02T11:47:00.007+10:00

This rant is obviously about the new Indiana Jones movie – Indiana Jones and the Saucer Men from Mars. I believe it’s in cinemas under the alias: “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” Either way, it is best avoided… and this is my only warning, if I haven’t already ruined it for you by calling it by its proper name… this rant discusses various flaws and therefore contains spoilers. You have been sufficiently warned – do not keep reading if you don’t want to know/still want to see the movie… Lord help you if you do. As the old Indy would’ve said… trust me!

Let’s start with two words: selective magnetism. Seriously, can we have a weaker opening to a movie? “Heavily magnetised” my ass… Moving on: Indy is something like 65 freaking years old and making one of the lamest getaway I’ve ever seen… How not one bullet managed to hit him or his hat is ridiculous, but I will let that one slide because there is much, much worse to follow.........

Namely: The Fridge. Okay, I will buy into the fridge’s interior being lead-lined and able to withstand a nuclear attack because they had the courtesy to at least attempt an explanation as to why Indy could survive and I don’t study physics… However, I have a feeling that it should’ve at least annihilated the fridge to the point where it loses its exterior shape and strength and crushes it into a shape from which Indy cannot get out without a struggle and without being incredibly hurt. My main problem is that the fridge is nuked, goes flying and rolling for miles and the stupid door manages to stay closed. It’s not really wedged either because it wasn’t that hard for Indy to get out and then fumble around in the highly radioactive aftermath for however long it is before the next scene where he gets the washdown… and we’re supposed to believe he’s fine?

And I can’t remember the last time I saw a more awkward on screen romance… oh wait, yes I can. It was called Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones. Granted, in this case it was not Lucas’ own screenwriting… ‘talent’… however, was Marion even necessary? Besides, if Indy cannot link Mutt’s mother, ‘Mary Williams’ to Marion Williams prior to seeing her in the South American hellhole then he is either an idiot or she is not really the apparent love of his life. “They weren’t you, honey” – that just screamed sincere, didn’t it? I’m sorry Marion, but the guy impregnated you and left you after claiming to want to spend the rest of his life with you… and that’s all he has to say for you to get that goofy ‘I’m in love’ smile? I didn’t know who to slap first - Indy for the line or Marion for the smile.

Don’t even get me started on the long-time friend exposed as a villain thing. My problem is not even that it’s old, clichéd and predictable - it’s the fact that Indiana goes from punching him in the face for the supposed number of good Americans crossed and potentially killed to actually taking him along to the find the freaky aliens. Seriously, why would anyone believe him? And why couldn’t he fucking be left in the jungle to fend for himself until it was over just in case? The ants could’ve used the feed.

Next issue: the big one - George Lucas and his stupid aliens and crystal skull pitch. Could anything be more ridiculous and less Indiana? This film took so long to hit the screen because everyone else knew how crummy the idea was. Yet that fat, rich bastard whose mind deteriorated into mush between the two Star Wars trilogies managed to wear them all down. Why, Spielberg, why? It was clearly dumb and when the movie starts borrowing props from your Close Encounters film surely you must think to yourself – is this guy for real?

I believe Sean Connery didn’t appear in this film not because he was enjoying retirement too much but because he read the script. Or… perhaps has simply watched the newer Star Wars prequel trilogy. As such, I should’ve known better too. Surely, the script by Frank Darabont, which was rejected by Lucas, would have been so much better and less ridiculous… but now we’ll never know. All I can say is, Indy was right about one thing: somewhere, Grandpa Connery is laughing… for being smart enough to refuse to appear anywhere but in a grinning photo.

Simply put, the movie was expensive trash. There were rare glimpses of wit in the poorly written script which contained no elements of plausibility (Mutt swordfighting is one thing, but swinging like Tarzan to catch up with the vehicles after hanging there for a while in a manner that can only be described as most resembling a clueless limp dick?) And seriously, ripping lines from a dead poet in order to attempt to give deeper meaning to the trashy film is just poor form. John Milton is groaning from the grave.

Finally, the audience is treated like fools who cannot grasp the idea that knowledge was the treasure without having it spelled out repeatedly. Irony is, this message of knowledge being of greater value than tangible treasures is completely lost and is in fact, the biggest slap in the face because surely all parties involved in the film who possess half a brain would have enough knowledge to understand how royally bad it sucked (Lucas excluded because he jumped ship long ago and likely thought his idea was awesome)… but they made it anyway… and why? To make them wealthier. This is bad. It will just reinforce to Lucas that we will accept his shit. He's like the puppy that you keep letting shit on your carpet... except in this case, the carpet is the big screen.

I give a bonus point for bringing in Indy’s fear of snakes in a hilariously stupid manner, but overall, it is just painful to watch. The only saving graces (despite having so little to work with) were Cate Blanchett whose character seemed so wrong it felt right, and Shia, who simply makes me think unladylike thoughts. And to the lady who actually clapped in the end… I sincerely hope it was out of irony or appreciation of Shia’s sex appeal or what little faith I had in humanity is now lost.

Cartoon randomness

2008-05-31T18:39:00.004+10:00

Who was your favourite childhood cartoon character?

Are you picturing them now? Remembering all the joy they brought you in your age of innocence? Good. Now consider this heartwarming thought...

"Someone, somewhere is dressing up like your favourite childhood cartoon character and having sex."

Today's bit of randomness is brought to you by the letter S for sadist. Quote by RKMilholland of Something Positive.

Facebook rant

2008-05-30T12:31:00.005+10:00

If one more person tells me to join Facebook because it's so awesome, I think I will scream. Seriously, if I want to throw a frog at you or something ridiculous like that, rest assured - I do not need facebook in order to do so. I think it's summed up pretty well in the above Sheldon comic just how ridiculous Facebook can be.

It is only somewhat useful for keeping tabs on those who are no longer part of your everyday life... (And perhaps in such a case, they are no longer part of your life for a reason?) In every other respect, it seems like a pathetic means of pseudo-communication in order for you to feel connected to other Facebookers, when in truth you are not.

For every claim that Facebook is great for networking, I can think of plenty of others which are probably more likely to have greater truth and relevance.

Chen's Facebook recipe:
1 part "networking"
2 parts narcissism in highlighting only your good points and photos
1 part curiosity
1 part stalking
3 parts procrastination

and finally - the special ingredient

2 parts satisfaction in believing you are so much better than the people you used to know

Stir to combine. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 200 degrees celsius. Remove from oven once charred within every inch of its life. Enjoy the empty calories and counter the guilt in harbouring such a pathetic addiction by throwing a Facebook frog at a pseudo Facebook friend and by consoling yourself with the five magical words:

"At least it's not WoW."

It's funny because people think WoW is evil. I agree that it is, but at least WoW doesn't pretend to.... actually, wait, I'm defending WoW now? ... see you on Facebook!

Advice Column #01

2008-05-29T18:46:00.002+10:00

Dear Chen,

I have this fear of buying condoms. I feel as though I’m being judged and also worry that the person at the check-out will draw attention to them, you know, loudspeaker price-checks and the like.

Embarrassed.

Dear Embarrassed,

It sounds like you’re too shy to rise to the occasion! Think of it this way: the check-out person will most likely assume that you’re actually getting some action. As long as it’s not your parents or minister, there’s not much wrong with that.

If you still can’t face the music, there is always the occassional vending machine at certain places if you’re willing to pay $2 a pop. However, I think that’s better spent on a nice large cucumber (smooth variety - unless you like it rough) to take through the check-out with the condoms. Trust me – no one will dwell on the condoms then.

Happy fornicating,
-Chen

A splurge of incoherent babble

2008-05-29T12:15:00.003+10:00

"You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure." - Elizabeth Bennet

A lot has changed in the last few months and whilst I don't want to dwell on the past... at least not on sources of unhappiness since I feel like I'm getting it together again... I do have to question a few things.

When you reflect on the past - what is it that you think of? The events or the people you shared them with? For me, I know it's the latter. This poses somewhat of a problem. If we cherish our memories and if our experiences and memories are a large part into shaping us into who we are, isn't that just saying that we are shaped by other people? If this is the case, then how can we truly know ourselves and be who we are meant to be?

Often in the past, I have felt like I've had to play a part... That I was defined by my relationships to others - a daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend and so on. Or that I was given a role - from school captain to university student to customer service consultant. In all these situations, there were expectations placed on me. Things I had to do or achieve, and just as many things that I couldn't do.

I suppose, what I want to get at is... When you think about it, we're almost always playing a part. Life and a lot of what we do is really one big act. That's my view anyway. Perhaps because I don't believe in being an open book unless I do trust someone and am generally a very private person (despite this blog somewhat begging to differ)...

I cannot speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. In truth, there have been few people with whom I could just be myself. With the way things have turned out the last few months, arguably that number has dropped further. I guess the upsetting element is not so much losing the bonds, but realising that it obviously must not have mattered as much to the other person... That you have all these grand ideas about how wonderfully meaningful the bond between you is, and they seem content to let it go.

I know I'm not the only person feeling the complete frustration of such a situation at the moment. If there is blame in his kind of scenario, I'm not sure who owns the larger part of it. Sometimes I think I hate the fact that I let these people matter so much to me. Especially when I'm now left wondering just how much I mattered....

I am not saying that they couldn't see the beauty in the relationship, or appreciate the connection - but the knowledge that they no longer want to try does hurt. As it probably should. In truth, no relationship is truly equal and there is always one party who will feel the greater pain.

Perhaps what it comes down to is this: we have all these romantic notions about those who are in our lives... they are each unique and every connection we make, especially when strengthened through time affects us. It leaves us altered. We like to believe that as each person is unique that no one is replaceable - and think the same about ourselves. But in truth, people do let go. They move on and the place you once held is replaced by someone else... and I argue that this is what hurts. It's not the loss of the connection itself, but the sad realisation that you are no longer needed and have been deemed replaceable.

So much of human happiness is dependent on other people. Whether this makes us weak or strong... or simply stupid, I have yet to determine.

I did not intend for such a bleak post, and in all honesty, I actually hope that I am wrong. I would love for someone to convince me otherwise... And when I do believe it - this blogpost will be deleted.

A few things I've learned from "House"

2008-05-29T00:18:00.002+10:00

Confirmation is for wimps and altar boys
You can’t be both a good person and well adjusted or you end up crying over centrifuges.
According to Cameron, I’m allowed to sexually harass my boss.
Even those as jaded as House need a friend.
The best place to hide something is in your vagina.
Everybody lies.
Given a young, blonde, Australian doctor, an African-American neurologist and a cranky, old, drug addict with a limp… the old guy is the most attractive. No doubt he can compensate for that limp…
I am clearly drawn to jerks.

Unsolicited advice for men

2008-05-27T16:14:00.006+10:00

Ignoring us for two hours to play games does not count as foreplay. On the other hand… putting it in terms you might understand… cooking us dinner = triple point score.
The wet-patch is your side of the bed. You made it. If you refuse it, you’re welcome to the couch.
Our underwear stays on until your stinky socks come off… For those of you who cannot understand, the concept is known as the ‘sock gap’. It refers to the finite window in which socks can be safely removed during foreplay without jeopardising one's chance of obtaining penetrative sex… "Miss it, and suddenly you’re a naked man in socks. No self respecting woman would ever let a naked man in socks do the squelchy with her." - Jeff Murdock from ‘Coupling’
Unless it’s to point out how significantly more awesome we are, never bring up the ex and make comparisons.
No, it is not “that time of the month again” – you are just a right idiot. That said, it is always your fault. So if you ever want action again, just accept it, apologise and make amends.
Over 99% of us do not have an identical twin sister. LET IT GO already.
If you expect us to swallow, we assume and expect that you: a) will avoid eating asparagus, b) want to snowball.
Do not roll over and go to sleep/watch TV/check your e-mails/light a cigar/crack open a beer or get up and leave as soon as sex is over. Learn to snuggle or be replaced by Mr Rabbit, the trusty vibrator, and a cuddle pillow.
Stop fantasizing about Paris Hilton. She’s as appealing as a used condom and has the intelligence to match.... Though that is possibly an insult to the condom.
And finally… put the toilet seat down, but only *after* you are done. We are well aware of your aim… or lack thereof.

That's it for now. I am sure there will be many more additions to come in future posts... anyone who has any additions of their own are welcome to comment.

The inaugural post

2008-05-27T12:05:00.007+10:00

Hello Stranger,

Welcome to my new space on the web. Make yourself at home and enjoy your stay. I apologise for the severe lack of material... Posts will be done at random, but mostly when I have a need to vent and/or procrastinate.

Suggestions, questions and comments are welcome. Abuse is not. I have enough of my own shit to deal with... so unless you're going to pay me for it, please don't assign me yours.

Yours sincerely... until I find someone wittier, sexier and better endowed to take your place,

Chen.