It's been more than sixty years. Are there still any clean hands left in the Middle East?
And once that's settled, Dubya's administration is next - if they're still alive by that time.
Categories:
Uncategorised
Friday, 9 January 2009
Justice Is...
...seeing both Hamas and Israeli leadership share the defendant's dock at The Hague.
It's been more than sixty years. Are there still any clean hands left in the Middle East?
And once that's settled, Dubya's administration is next - if they're still alive by that time.
It's been more than sixty years. Are there still any clean hands left in the Middle East?
And once that's settled, Dubya's administration is next - if they're still alive by that time.
Sunday, 4 January 2009
Coward's End
The first book review for this year (2009) was written last year for a movie that didn't seem to reach the silver screens. It's out on DVD though, if anyone's interested.
This one is also heavily edited. While I'm learning to take it all in stride, I can't help feeling sore that my degree of writing has taken a dive lately. And I think I won't be doing a lot of reviews this year.
Still, I've had eleven published last year (not a lot, either), plus another three in 2007, so I can't complain.
History or fiction?
first published in The Star, 04 January 2009
A conundrum we all face with novels-turned-into-movies is whether we should wait for the movie or read the book first.
The silver screen option would probably be more appealing in today's attention-deficit society; it seems that few people want to take a whole day (or two) to read a book from cover to cover, nowadays.
There is also the suspicion that the author wrote it with the hope that somebody would turn his masterpiece into an Oscar-winning movie (The Da Vinci Code comes immediately to mind!).
While Ron Hansen's novel was made into a movie – which has yet to open here, while Singaporeans saw it in January last year – it doesn't seem, at first glance, to lend itself easily to silver screen adaptation. One can't really accuse the writer of this sometimes-surreal Western of pandering to Hollywood sensibilities.
For one thing, there's the title (deep breath, now): The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. For another, while that unwieldy title seems to indicate a focus on the American West's most famous outlaw, Jesse James – surely popular fodder for the silver screen – most of that focus seems to have been culled from newspapers and magazines. Half the time it feels like I'm reading a long, laboriously-crafted Wikipedia entry. Instead, Hansen has, intriguingly, centred his best writing around the assassin, Robert Ford.
The story of Jesse Woodson James' criminal career begins with the American Civil War in 1861, when he rode with Confederate militia alongside his elder brother, Frank. When the war ended in 1865, the Jameses joined the Younger brothers (Cole, Jim, John, and Bob), to form the James-Younger Gang, a real ornery buncha outlaws. However, because they mainly went after government establishments and the super rich, the outlaws had fans among poor rural folk.
When a botched robbery breaks up the James-Younger gang, Jesse forms his own gang, and it is this that will lead eventually to his demise at the hands of two turncoats: new recruits Robert and Charley Ford. All this is historic fact.
Our fictional novel begins innocently enough, with a young, enthusiastic Bob Ford trying to chat up Frank James, hoping to impress the outlaw and maybe get an invitation to the gang's next gig. Frank feels an immediate dislike for the boy, saying that Bob gives him "the willies" – one of several Ides of March-like premonitions buried in the pages. Jesse, however, lets young Bob into the gang.
As the days pass, however, the allure of being a member of Jesse's posse wanes as Bob sees more and more of his leader's flawed, all-too-human side. He also begins to resent the fact that, most of the time, he's just Jesse's errand boy.
It is events closer to home, however, that pushes Bob onto the path of treachery: He kills Jesse's cousin to protect a fellow gang-member who's a friend, and then covers up the crime. Around the same time, an increasingly paranoid Jesse begins silencing comrades after some of his gang members are arrested. With the guilt of the murder of Jesse's cousin hanging over their heads too, Bob and Charley begin fearing for their lives.
And so, after making a deal with local authorities, they kill the famous outlaw, shooting him in the back.
Bob wastes little time in exploiting his status as the infamous traitor. Will he live happily ever after, or be done in by the curse of a wicked deed? A lot of the time, the lines between fact and fiction are blurred. Did it all really happen like it says in the book?
Some stories and anecdotes out of the wild, wild West tend to be apocryphal, but The Assassination tries its darnedest to avoid being categorised as complete fantasy, even at the risk of coming across more like a non-fiction book than the upper-crust Western it really is.
I am grateful, though, for Mr Hansen's discipline in sticking to the history books (those that I've read, anyway). Very few liberties were taken in the name of artistic licence (for instance, no tender Brokeback Mountain moments, thank God!). Then again, I was too engrossed in all that history to notice any.
Here's an interesting bit of trivia: When they made this novel into a film, Brad Pitt, who plays Jesse James and is also one of the movie's producers, reportedly insisted that the long title be retained. And everyone knows that when Jesse says "do", nobody ever says "don't"!
Harper
389 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-0-06-112901-8
This one is also heavily edited. While I'm learning to take it all in stride, I can't help feeling sore that my degree of writing has taken a dive lately. And I think I won't be doing a lot of reviews this year.
Still, I've had eleven published last year (not a lot, either), plus another three in 2007, so I can't complain.
History or fiction?
first published in The Star, 04 January 2009
A conundrum we all face with novels-turned-into-movies is whether we should wait for the movie or read the book first.
The silver screen option would probably be more appealing in today's attention-deficit society; it seems that few people want to take a whole day (or two) to read a book from cover to cover, nowadays.
There is also the suspicion that the author wrote it with the hope that somebody would turn his masterpiece into an Oscar-winning movie (The Da Vinci Code comes immediately to mind!).
While Ron Hansen's novel was made into a movie – which has yet to open here, while Singaporeans saw it in January last year – it doesn't seem, at first glance, to lend itself easily to silver screen adaptation. One can't really accuse the writer of this sometimes-surreal Western of pandering to Hollywood sensibilities.
The story of Jesse Woodson James' criminal career begins with the American Civil War in 1861, when he rode with Confederate militia alongside his elder brother, Frank. When the war ended in 1865, the Jameses joined the Younger brothers (Cole, Jim, John, and Bob), to form the James-Younger Gang, a real ornery buncha outlaws. However, because they mainly went after government establishments and the super rich, the outlaws had fans among poor rural folk.
When a botched robbery breaks up the James-Younger gang, Jesse forms his own gang, and it is this that will lead eventually to his demise at the hands of two turncoats: new recruits Robert and Charley Ford. All this is historic fact.
Our fictional novel begins innocently enough, with a young, enthusiastic Bob Ford trying to chat up Frank James, hoping to impress the outlaw and maybe get an invitation to the gang's next gig. Frank feels an immediate dislike for the boy, saying that Bob gives him "the willies" – one of several Ides of March-like premonitions buried in the pages. Jesse, however, lets young Bob into the gang.
As the days pass, however, the allure of being a member of Jesse's posse wanes as Bob sees more and more of his leader's flawed, all-too-human side. He also begins to resent the fact that, most of the time, he's just Jesse's errand boy.
It is events closer to home, however, that pushes Bob onto the path of treachery: He kills Jesse's cousin to protect a fellow gang-member who's a friend, and then covers up the crime. Around the same time, an increasingly paranoid Jesse begins silencing comrades after some of his gang members are arrested. With the guilt of the murder of Jesse's cousin hanging over their heads too, Bob and Charley begin fearing for their lives.
And so, after making a deal with local authorities, they kill the famous outlaw, shooting him in the back.
Bob wastes little time in exploiting his status as the infamous traitor. Will he live happily ever after, or be done in by the curse of a wicked deed? A lot of the time, the lines between fact and fiction are blurred. Did it all really happen like it says in the book?
Some stories and anecdotes out of the wild, wild West tend to be apocryphal, but The Assassination tries its darnedest to avoid being categorised as complete fantasy, even at the risk of coming across more like a non-fiction book than the upper-crust Western it really is.
I am grateful, though, for Mr Hansen's discipline in sticking to the history books (those that I've read, anyway). Very few liberties were taken in the name of artistic licence (for instance, no tender Brokeback Mountain moments, thank God!). Then again, I was too engrossed in all that history to notice any.
Here's an interesting bit of trivia: When they made this novel into a film, Brad Pitt, who plays Jesse James and is also one of the movie's producers, reportedly insisted that the long title be retained. And everyone knows that when Jesse says "do", nobody ever says "don't"!
The Assassination of Jesse James by The Coward Robert Ford
Ron HansenHarper
389 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-0-06-112901-8
Categories:
Book Reviews,
The Star
Friday, 26 December 2008
Feeling Down At The Koi Pond House
Compared to last year, the mood at KY's Xmas eve party was subdued. Some of the usual suspects were missing, but that wasn't all.
Wildguy recalled that the previous ones were bigger. They weren't just parties - they were all-out bashes. With real food. More babes. This year though... . Sure, we're entering the biggest economic recession in living memory, but is that why the atmosphere was relatively down? And no police car stopped by - at least not before I left.
There were chocolates - those you can only buy at an airport. Half the items in the Secret Santa event were lingerie, which livened things up a bit. And the SixthSeal guy dropped his pants (I so did not need to see that). And Wildguy provided entertainment with his take on current affairs.
Suertes summed it up nicely. "We're getting old."
I guess we are. 2005 wasn't that long ago, was it?
Wildguy recalled that the previous ones were bigger. They weren't just parties - they were all-out bashes. With real food. More babes. This year though... . Sure, we're entering the biggest economic recession in living memory, but is that why the atmosphere was relatively down? And no police car stopped by - at least not before I left.
There were chocolates - those you can only buy at an airport. Half the items in the Secret Santa event were lingerie, which livened things up a bit. And the SixthSeal guy dropped his pants (I so did not need to see that). And Wildguy provided entertainment with his take on current affairs.
Suertes summed it up nicely. "We're getting old."
I guess we are. 2005 wasn't that long ago, was it?
Categories:
Misadventures
Friday, 12 December 2008
Adieu, Suzhou
I didn't know when the Suzhou Noodle House first opened, but it seemed like a long time ago. Then it packed up and disappeared, and in its place was the increasingly kitschy and still inexplicably open Star Village Restaurant (formerly Honey Star). Then a few years later, I found it at OUG's Citrus Park, and after a square meal, returned on occasion for the noodles, rice, tea and pumpkin cakes.
If the manager can be believed, all the dishes come from the Chinese province of Suzhou, reputed abode for China's fairest maidens (something similar has been said about Ipoh). Some of the dishes served up at Suzhou Noodle House are quite oily, but mostly good. The noodles deserve particular mention. Square-ish rather than cylindrical, firm and made without jian shui (an alkali solution, probably sodium carbonate), it went surprisingly well with the stock, which was just Goldilocks right. Eaten plain, the noodles were great for convalescing foodies.
The noodle "varieties" are created by pairing the noodles with sides: braised duck, sweet and sour pork ribs, and spicy chicken. I wouldn't recommend it with the fried pork or chicken cutlets, those roof-of-the-mouth slashing horrors. For a while, they had smoked fish and fatty cured pork belly, but they had to drop it from the menu because the supplier didn't do smoked fish any more.
The teas were unique. The Biluochao broad-leaf green tea had a strong tannic overlay which made it a powerful palate cleanser, and a pleasant groundnutty aroma. It takes a while to steep, and supposedly gets stronger with each refill, but the taste declines noticeably at the fourth refill - or maybe I just wasn't patient enough to wait. They also had the more expensive Biluochun variant, which I never tried.
Given the oilyness of some dishes and desserts, the tea was a welcome relief. I specifically remember the fried, red-bean-filled pumpkin cakes. At three or four pieces per serving, you'd want to have a light meal beforehand. Other dishes I fondly recall are the xiaolongbao soup dumplings, the gulaorou (sweet and sour stir-fried pork) rice and their fried noodles.
After all that it may be surprising to hear I'm not giving out any numbers or addresses for this place. Not that it would have made a difference - the place closed its doors more than three months ago, probably for good.
The last time I went there was in July, and I took some pictures. The place looked rundown and I could hear the scurrying of some animal from the water-stained ceiling boards. I hated to think it, but I could see it coming. Like the restaurant-heavy Taman Tun Dr Ismail, competition is stiff, and their place was tucked so deeply into the complex, with a hard-to-find entrance. When I returned in October, a day spa was being set up in its place. The labourer said Suzhou Noodles packed up around two months earlier.
I was sorry to hear the news, and sorrier for not rushing to push it into the limelight. I loved (some of) the food, the tea, and the quiet cosyness, which probably wasn't a desirable attribute for a restaurant. The manager, a Ms Phang, was good to me, especially when I was recovering from some bug or other illness. I don't normally grieve over a restaurant's packing up, but this felt like the loss of a relative.
But if I had, could I make a difference?
If only I had tried to find the answer; now it may remain a mystery.
If the manager can be believed, all the dishes come from the Chinese province of Suzhou, reputed abode for China's fairest maidens (something similar has been said about Ipoh). Some of the dishes served up at Suzhou Noodle House are quite oily, but mostly good. The noodles deserve particular mention. Square-ish rather than cylindrical, firm and made without jian shui (an alkali solution, probably sodium carbonate), it went surprisingly well with the stock, which was just Goldilocks right. Eaten plain, the noodles were great for convalescing foodies.
The noodle "varieties" are created by pairing the noodles with sides: braised duck, sweet and sour pork ribs, and spicy chicken. I wouldn't recommend it with the fried pork or chicken cutlets, those roof-of-the-mouth slashing horrors. For a while, they had smoked fish and fatty cured pork belly, but they had to drop it from the menu because the supplier didn't do smoked fish any more.
The teas were unique. The Biluochao broad-leaf green tea had a strong tannic overlay which made it a powerful palate cleanser, and a pleasant groundnutty aroma. It takes a while to steep, and supposedly gets stronger with each refill, but the taste declines noticeably at the fourth refill - or maybe I just wasn't patient enough to wait. They also had the more expensive Biluochun variant, which I never tried.
Given the oilyness of some dishes and desserts, the tea was a welcome relief. I specifically remember the fried, red-bean-filled pumpkin cakes. At three or four pieces per serving, you'd want to have a light meal beforehand. Other dishes I fondly recall are the xiaolongbao soup dumplings, the gulaorou (sweet and sour stir-fried pork) rice and their fried noodles.
After all that it may be surprising to hear I'm not giving out any numbers or addresses for this place. Not that it would have made a difference - the place closed its doors more than three months ago, probably for good.
The last time I went there was in July, and I took some pictures. The place looked rundown and I could hear the scurrying of some animal from the water-stained ceiling boards. I hated to think it, but I could see it coming. Like the restaurant-heavy Taman Tun Dr Ismail, competition is stiff, and their place was tucked so deeply into the complex, with a hard-to-find entrance. When I returned in October, a day spa was being set up in its place. The labourer said Suzhou Noodles packed up around two months earlier.
I was sorry to hear the news, and sorrier for not rushing to push it into the limelight. I loved (some of) the food, the tea, and the quiet cosyness, which probably wasn't a desirable attribute for a restaurant. The manager, a Ms Phang, was good to me, especially when I was recovering from some bug or other illness. I don't normally grieve over a restaurant's packing up, but this felt like the loss of a relative.
But if I had, could I make a difference?
If only I had tried to find the answer; now it may remain a mystery.
Categories:
Uncategorised
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
The Serama Breeder
Vox Pop: "Serama Breeder & Operations
Director", Off The Edge, December 2008
Director", Off The Edge, December 2008
The interviews are quite enlightening. The lives of people that are usually referred to as "normal folks" can have extraordinary chapters. Their backgrounds, lifestyles, experiences and work... I've learned a lot more from these than I could ever glean from online research.
One such interview was a great example. The serama breeder and operations director of Serama Corp is an expert in his field who has won competitions and met the King of Thailand. Many folks I know haven't had that opportunity.
Look how proud he is of his birds. He has several reasons to be.
I still remember the shrill crowing of the tiny roosters, and I still get gaping jaws and saucer-sized eyes when I recount the tale of the RM2,000 pint-sized chicken - edible, and reputedly possesses medicinal properties. An adult serama is about half the size of an average chicken, and its survival rate is lower. The animal does take some dedication to raise - how many would want that kind of life?
This was also one of the few pieces that used my photos, taken with my Canon Powershot A580. The crowing serama rooster is one of my best to date.
Categories:
Off The Edge
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Spare Some Change, Please
I don't know about anyone else, but I'm looking forward to the US Elections' results.
None of us in Malaysia expected the Opposition besides PAS to take a state. Now they have... three? Four? So I am interested in whether America has realised it's not about skin or faith anymore in an increasingly shrinking, flattening Earth.
Political party, race and religion are no longer the talismans they used to be against the tides of change. Even so, only idiots expect change to take effect in at least 48 hours. Or 48 months. The world has changed lots, and will continue to change - with or without us. We're all in it for the long haul and it's up to us whether to sink or swim.
None of us in Malaysia expected the Opposition besides PAS to take a state. Now they have... three? Four? So I am interested in whether America has realised it's not about skin or faith anymore in an increasingly shrinking, flattening Earth.
Political party, race and religion are no longer the talismans they used to be against the tides of change. Even so, only idiots expect change to take effect in at least 48 hours. Or 48 months. The world has changed lots, and will continue to change - with or without us. We're all in it for the long haul and it's up to us whether to sink or swim.
Categories:
Uncategorised
Monday, 3 November 2008
Khadijah's Kitchen
I'd heard about this singer from the 80s, but if you told me that I'll be interviewing her some day, I'd have said you're freaking nuts.
Mmm. Aren't my words yummy.
It was raining heavily the first time I was there. She was telling us about her Pearl Anniversary Concerts at the Malaysian Philharmonic at KLCC. With her at the press conference were Ramli Sarip and Dato' Ahmad Nawab.
I was more blown away by how down-to-earth she was, rather than her status or her cooking, which is rather good. I've had several other serendipitous encounters at the place - a tale for another time.
And the concert was great; I wrote a review-of-sorts that was never published - another tale for another time.
"Khadijah's kitchen", Off The Edge, November 2009
Mmm. Aren't my words yummy.
It was raining heavily the first time I was there. She was telling us about her Pearl Anniversary Concerts at the Malaysian Philharmonic at KLCC. With her at the press conference were Ramli Sarip and Dato' Ahmad Nawab.
I was more blown away by how down-to-earth she was, rather than her status or her cooking, which is rather good. I've had several other serendipitous encounters at the place - a tale for another time.
And the concert was great; I wrote a review-of-sorts that was never published - another tale for another time.
Categories:
Off The Edge
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