Newspapermen

Dear Editor,

My name is Chester Chin Zhao Liang.

Chin being my family's surname and Zhao reflects the order of generation which I'm born into my family of Hainan descent. Liang here literally translates to "good virtue" in Mandarin.

 Or at least that's what I'm told by my parents anyway. I wouldn't know because my command of Mandarin is limited to 60 seconds conversations with the local Chinese hawker who sells Hokkien Mee (spicy prawn noodles) at the coffee shop by my house.

As for Chester, well my parents have always wanted their children to have an English name to reflect the increasingly Westernised culture (apparently 22 years ago, nobody would have guessed that China would go on and become a potential hegemonic force today).

 My name's oxymoronic nomenclature aside, I grow up in a relatively typical Chinese family of the Taoist persuasion. Meaning here I'm more superstitious than I am religious. I burn religious paraphernalias during the Hungry Ghost Festival mostly to avoid supernatural sightings instead of appeasing some divine entity.

I led a pretty nomadic life during my formative years due to my dad's work obligations. He's an army officer with the Malaysian Armed Forces, so he's posted to different places within the country every few years or so.

That said, I didn't pick up journalism because I wanted to cover war-torn countries due to my father's military background. The reality is not that romanticised.

The simple truth is I like writing, and I like the prospect of how a 1000-word piece could make a substantial change to society. Be it about a report on Aung San Suu Kyi or a feature piece on New York's Fashion Week, there's always the potential of an impending revolutionary discourse with the written word.

No issue's too trivial when it comes to journalism because the people who do it, did it in the pursuit of passion and veracity. I guess that's why I decided to enrol into journalism school back in 2010, to harness that ability to be a medium of truth and social movement.

Don't You Want to Share the Guilt

I haven't been writing much on this little blog of mine. That's probably because I've been busy with a million other things that will help build up the impression that I'm a REALLY busy person :P

Aha anyway set up a new blog with a few other mini journos-in-the-making called Almost Journalist. You optimistic people got to check that out, it's going to be awesome xD

Being very lackadaisical when it comes to blogging,  I'll just adapt some posts here to there and vice versa. Like what I'm doing now with this post. Just that I might not be throwing out as much profanity there, you know gotta keep up with the whole "professional" image. The review I'm posting up below is something I crafted for AJ.

The last couple of month have been filled with busy, busy days. But the holidays are coming up! Woohoo planning to just rot in front of the idiot box watching reruns of Keeping Up with the Kardashians or maybe set up a new empire in The Sims Medieval. Or I might just be lounging at Batu Ferringhi before heading off to Jakarta for a looooooooooooooong overdue vacation.

Gaaah I'm excited. It's gonna be fun, fun, fun, fun after all that work, work, work.

Oh yeah before I go, I'm getting a teeny weeny bit active on Twitter (no thanks to a few of my varsity mates who are social media advocates). I think they should apply to be Niki Cheong's apprentices and delve deeper into Twitterjaya.

So yep stalk, err I mean follow me. My Twitter ID is @chesterchin xD

If you're wondering why this post is so self-centered. Blame it on Michelle Leong and Julian Gan. They say I don't update enough me-happenings over here (as if my Facebook rantings are not enough ish).

Until I write again, live precariously and love not.

*  *  *

RECORD SPIN #2

Femme Fatale - Britney Spears

There is something deliciously decadent about Britney Spears' seventh studio album. From the shameless Euro pop beats of the opening track to playing Fergie on the will.i.am produced Big Fat Bass, Femme Fatale plays out like the aftermath of a self-pleasuring session. The high is ecstatic, but you're left despising yourself after the whole ordeal.

But just like how any teenagers with raging hormones who went through that self-exploratory period will tell you, Spears' Femme Fatale is so worth the high. Surrender yourself to the sinful bliss of auto-tune and dance away. A little pleasure now and then wouldn't hurt nobody. In fact, you might just discover something good that no other individual can provide. Only in Britney's music people, only in her music can you talk of sexual innuendos without being judged too harshly.

Goobye Lullaby  - Avril Lavigne

It's laughable the way celebrities "integrate" music with business. The most apparent would probably be Hilary Duff's 3 minutes track With Love back in 2007. The song was used in an elaborate marketing for her fragrance called (wait for it) "With Love...Hilary Duff". Fast forward four years later, Canadian singer Avril Lavigne is doing the same thing. Lavigne launched a perfume called "Black Star", and incidentally the opening track of her fourth studio album is also called Black Star. Pfft.

My contempt for the "business" of music aside, Goodbye Lullaby is a mediocre offering by the punk princess who brought us Complicated, the teenage anthem of 2002. With the exception of a couple of tracks, most of the album's 52 minutes sound so alike that you're left wondering if Lavigne is making any effort at improving her song craft. There is a glimmer of that angsty singer we love in her rendition of Joan Jett's classic Bad Reputation but that only came about towards the end of the album. By then, it was just too little, too late.

As If! - Sky Ferreira

"Why do some need to be masters? Why do some want to be slaves?" 18-year old singer-songwriter Sky Ferreira asked in the song Sex Rules. Oh boy, here we go again...another photocopy version of Britney Spears, you'd say. But hold it, there is just something refreshing about Ferreira's song on the need for the physical touch. Instead of beating around the bushes and singing things like "I want to take a ride on your disco stick", Ferreira ought to be commended for her bold statement. 

My only qualm here is that it is hard to pigeonhole her into a specific genre. While it seemed that the songs are tailor made for the masses, there is some serious lyrical intensity going on here. She is not mainstream enough but neither is she indie enough. Now there are only five tracks on this EP, with Ferreira singing about an ancient lover in the last track. A case of Twilight frenzy or an emulation of Lolita, I've yet to discern. But here is to hoping that this brilliant singer don't fall into a state of oblivion.

Reviews first published in the blog "Almost Journalist" dated April 22, 2011.

Haters Anonymous

People are getting more bold. Or at least their online persona is. Check out any videos on YouTube and chances are the top rated comments would be ones that have a smart ass criticism about how God-awful the song/ artist/ video direction/ video production/ video lighting/ *insert your choice of complaint here* is. That or they will be defending the video in vain. 

If you know what is good for you, you'll stick to the crowd and do the former. Because in the event where you do defend that particular video, you'll probably just end up inciting more hate comments. If you're lucky, you'll be called a faggot. If you're not, well, take a trip down homophobic paranoia lane (What's with people's obsession with gays anyway? Personally I would recommend that you name drop politicians the next time you want to make a less-than-appealing simile).

All this critical approach to things would have been a warm welcome in lieu with the birth of a vocal thinking society if not for the hardcore fact that in reality, most of us don't really have the balls to say half the things we say online.

"The Internet has given people an artificial confidence in themselves to say things that they wouldn't normally say away from the virtual platform. People feel safer when they have this 'curtain' of anonymity protecting them when they make harsh comments. When they realised such shield exists, it gave them a false sense of confidence," said Julian Gan, a 21 year-old student majoring in Psychology at University of Canterburry. 

Song Sook Kin from Taiping shared the same sentiments with Gan.

"One can fully express themselves better when they remove the pressure of being associated with that particular comment," said the 20 year-old Universiti Tunku Abdul Rahman Journalism student. 

However, this does not mean that she endorses the act of hating anonymously online. Far from approving such acts, Song thinks that is is "cowardly" to post up hurtful comments on online forums and YouTube videos .

"All these anonymous haters probably found comfort in knowing that they can retract their statement with a click," Gan answered when asked for additional reason that prompt people to post up such comments.

This begs the question, does deleting a hurtful comment takes away the sense of pain and humiliation that is inflicted by the remarks made in the first place?

Gan doubts so. "The pain and humiliation does not go away with the removal of the comment. It is very likely that the person who was targeted in the hate comment will never be able to remove that stinging memory from his psyche."

The truth is posting hate comments online has a bigger consequence than say, passing the remark over coffee with your girlfriends. Given the universal quality of the Internet, things might reach catastrophic proportion if you ruffled the wrong feathers.

"With the Internet, it is very easy for things to go viral. In the case where your hate comment becomes the next trending topic on Twitter, it won't take long before it reached the whole world," said 21 year-old Michelle Leong, a student at Sunway University.

"Memorable comments can go viral, international and can do so much damage to a person," Song further affirmed Leong's statement.

If you can't see the magnitude of this scenario. Try picturing someone from an oppressed developing country commenting that the Prime Minister is a moron who should probably just stick his ass up a sugarcane on a social networking site. Before you know it, bam! Helloooo evening news! 

On a lighter note, this was what that happened to the now infamous Rebecca Black. Her music video "Friday" garnered so much dislikes and negative comments that it propelled her to the center of the mass media's spotlight who saw it part of their duty to society to further trash her. 

Let's take a step back and consider this, is the online platform giving people a reason to hate? Sure, Black's video might have caused an uproar in online forums where people drone on and on about how her music sucks and what not. But then again, no one is going to the street protesting with banners that read "Fuck you bitch, you ruined music for all of us".

"The online platform doesn't give people a reason to hate. It actually gives people a way to find others who share the same opinion as they do on a certain subject," said Gan.

"Why take the hassle to do street protests and hate banners when commenting on YouTube has the same effect?" Song offered. "I don't think online platform gives people a reason to hate, it actually gives people an opportunity to hate. Besides deep down, I believe that all of us have an inner bitchy self, " 

Bitchiness aside, we have to acknowledge that online hating goes deeper than the superficial idea of mocking someone's hair or make-up, have a good laugh about it and then log off. You might have the privilege of hiding behind a veil of anonymity but your remark goes to someone who does not enjoy the same privilege of anonymity that you do.

If you're a masochistic fucktard, then by all means go ahead and hate. But in this context, just don't be a closet freak.

If I Were A Boy

Stereotype, in general, is a bitch. Its funny how we conform that everybody have different medical allergies, yet overlook the fact that people have movie preferences, musical tastes and reading habits that transcend their usual gender "cultural norms". In this sense, one size really doesn't fit all.

I put this theory into test when I peruse over a copy of American Vogue at McDonald's while waiting for a movie a couple of weeks back. Two teenage girls was on the other table sipping down their drinks when I was poring over the glossy pages of the magazine. I thought I saw them superciliously glancing over and giving off amused half-smile. 

Perhaps I would have been greeted with a different response if I was reading an article on 'Satisfy Your Woman: 10 Ways to Reach Mutual Orgasm with Your Partner' instead of an editorial piece on fur coats. Heck, I'm even stereotyping now by associating the male gender with sex. 

So what if I listen to Hilary Duff and watched 'The Devil Wears Prada' on repeats? Would it automatically mean that I am to be labelled with 'Burgeoning Homosexual' pasted over my forehead? Must only people with a vagina be allowed to read Sophie Kinsella? It's a question that seems worth asking.

Except that it isn't, really. It's misogynistic and downright chauvinistic. 

Anyway, it matters little. In the next few years, people would have probably graduated to e-readers and store a compilation of "guilty pleasure" books and magazines that deprive the prying eyes from knowing what you're reading. No more doctors telling you that "Oh, I thought only girls read that" when you bring over a paperback to the clinic and then give you an apologetic smile that makes you think you have STDs or some life-threatening disease.

The truth is we are living in a society that mirrors our own assholic tendencies. 

If you're a self-professed "English educated" person like me, take a walk down One Utama and when you come across a girl with mismatched bright coloured knee-length stockings , would you refrain from exclaiming "Ugh chao LaLa" in your head?

My sentiments exactly. Stereotype is a bitch, and so are we.

Strip Me

I found myself having a hard time articulating an answer when one of my cousins asked "So, what do you blog about?" at a recent family Christmas party. I didn't even know that he knows I kept a blog. We only meet twice a year you see, once during Christmas and the other time on the family's Chinese New Year reunion dinner. 

To be honest, I was actually embarrassed to divulge to him the stuff that I blog about. I mean what can I tell him? That I blog about my shopping endeavors and weekend rendezvous with friends?

After a moment of hesitation, I replied "Well, I write about music" and flash him a smile. 

Well in my defense, I do blog about music. What that I forgot to add was that I don't do it on a regular basis...hence the statement that I blog about music is not really apt. Heck, I bet the seasoned music bloggers are cursing me at the moment. But it is the moment of hesitation that makes me question the "integrity" of the topics I blog about.

I don't regard myself as a "blogger" in all sense of the word. I mean yes, I do keep a blog but I've always despised being labelled a blogger. I suppose part of it is accredited to the negative connotation that the term presents. In the present climate, a blogger can probably defined as teenage girls (and a small percentage of boys) who attend social gatherings and writes a 150 words entry with 15 photos of her with her friends.

But some of you might protest that photos of parties serve as an integral part of a blog. Well that is partly true and I shall not deny the privilege of that comprehension to you. Photos and posts of parties does expands the commercial value of a blog. Even more so if you have agreeable features. This translates to larger hit counts and subsequently, greater advertisement revenues. 

I have vehemently stated that the primary reason I decided to enroll myself in journalism school was because I wanted to be a voice of social change that re-arranges the world's perspective. To be read by thousands and having your meaning conveyed through words is an exciting prospect for me. What that I failed to see is that in the day and age of Lady Gaga's frenzy, society thrives on frivolity. Nobody wants to read a lengthy blog post about social conscience and poverty. 

Then again, nobody ever said that we need to conform with conventionality. And if nobody will take the stance, then I will lead a solo revolution...or at least I'll try.

Are You Satisfied?

The other day I texted Julian Gan saying that I'd rather buy an original CD than buy a cup of frappuccino at Starbucks. I'm new fashioned you see, so I don't necessarily buy CDs anymore these days. Like all you other cheapskate Malaysians out there, I also read my news online rather than buy a copy of newspapers. 

Hahaha shyte I'm kidding keep buying your newspapers! 

The real context here though is not so much on the propensity of Malaysians' pathological cheapskate-ness than it is about the audacious length at which we would pay RM14.65 for a cup of coffee. At the same time, it also speaks negatively about the psyche of our modern day society. 

You are deemed cool when you hold the cup bearing Starbucks logo. True, I mean do you see the casts of Gossip Girl drinking out of a plain paper cup? But if you were to measure a lifestyle out of logos and brands, where is that going to propel us to? 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not an anti-Starbuckers. Heck, I'm not even societally licensed to speak poorly of a coffee store given that I don't drink coffee. And the fact that I once paid RM89.90 for a Rachael Yamagata CD render me hypocritical if I dictate that Starbucks' coffee is too expensive for consumption.

So I'm not even really here to subvert your unwavering adulation for a frothy, creamy, rich and aromatic taste of a Starbucks coffee. But what that I do want to know is, when you sip down that RM14.65, are you satisfied?

Guest Blogger Post: Eat to Live, or Live to Eat?

By Julian Gan

Yeah, this question begs for consideration especially for those of us who hail from this part of the world, where food is made in so many different ways and flavours that tantalise our taste buds like ants to sweet, sweet sugar. Have you ever stopped to think about this question and what is the answer for yourself?

Are you the one who finds it taxing to be thinking about where is the best place to get your favourite nasi lemak, or are you the one who finds it hectic to think about how much calories each piece of food you are consuming into your system? Are you the one who prefers to just eat enough to live or the one who prefers to savour every morsel of delight this world has to offer, no matter the expenses we have to sacrifice to taste it?

Well, no matter which side you are in, know this. When it comes right down to the point, we all have to eat.

And being a genuine Malaysian boy I am, I believe in living to eat. With the immense cuisines that humans have developed throughout centuries, I find it my calling to be able to traverse the world to taste different types of food this world has to offer. You may beg to differ from my point of view but I stand my point when I say, living on Earth should be something to be enjoyed than to be just another being coming and when the time comes, going.

Living in this part of the world known as the East or Asia or more specifically, Southeast Asia, we are blessed because our ancestors are true connoisseurs when it comes to food. They perfected the way we prepare food so that eating would be a pleasurable activity instead of just another thing we have to do to survive. Flavours that tingle the taste bud help to make life such a lovely thing to do!

As much as living to eat may be such an amazing choice to consider, it is also not such a healthy choice because if all we ever do in life is eat, then health problems such as obesity would be happy to acquaint you as their friend. Then their pals, high blood pressure and stroke would soon come along as well to befriend you. Although that may be the case, I find that we as humans have the ability to set borders and boundaries for ourselves.

I end this short note with a hope that you would go back and think about your choice. Which side are you on? If you are a person who just eats enough to live by, well...good for you. If you are the one who takes eating a more important matter and find yourself choosing the life of eating, then welcome to the club. May we prosper well as we venture through this planet we live in and savour every little thing that our stomachs are able to digest and live just as healthy as the rest!

Bring on the calories that I can have, because those assam laksa and satays need someone to ensure it is not wasted and thrown into the trash!

Julian Gan is an aspiring writer who spends his time writing about his thoughts in his petite blog, Splendorous. He has a passion for psychology and hopes for his words to be able to inspire many others and change the world someday.