Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Out of Shape
Not playing for about a month has been hard on the body, both physically and mentally. Especially physically.
I notice the flabs starting to form, and it's now a concerted effort to eat less. I think I'll have to get my feet back to the jogging track. Hope that the muscles will be able to take light jogging.
Mentally, it's torturous to not be able to play badminton. Since I started getting serious in wanting to play the game about 3 years back, I've played an average of at least twice a week. Stopping cold turkey like this isn't a good way to treat the mind.
On the bright side, the muscles have been recovering at a good rate since visiting the physiotherapist and the complete stopping of all things sport.
For now, at least to fight the flabs from ruining my shirts and pants, I'll have to start the circuit routine at home and put on my jogging shoes.
Oh, and eat less.
I notice the flabs starting to form, and it's now a concerted effort to eat less. I think I'll have to get my feet back to the jogging track. Hope that the muscles will be able to take light jogging.
Mentally, it's torturous to not be able to play badminton. Since I started getting serious in wanting to play the game about 3 years back, I've played an average of at least twice a week. Stopping cold turkey like this isn't a good way to treat the mind.
On the bright side, the muscles have been recovering at a good rate since visiting the physiotherapist and the complete stopping of all things sport.
For now, at least to fight the flabs from ruining my shirts and pants, I'll have to start the circuit routine at home and put on my jogging shoes.
Oh, and eat less.
Yonex Warehouse Sales
When my colleagues told me about the sale, the first thing that came to my mind was, "Those guys will never put up the high-end rackets out for sale! 80% from $499 is more like it..."
But lo and behold...
ArcSaber 8DX going for $100, ArcSaber 9FLs going for $80, Armortec 900P LC going for $120...
Madness. Yonex is trying to put distributors out of business. I expect a whole lot of rackets being put up for sale on the forums soon.
Some dealers were also seen there. You'd want to be wary of "discount" prices for the above rackets since you know where they got their stock. All rackets from the sale didn't come with the Sunrise sticker, and do not enjoy the warranty period of 3 months.
But that aside, you might want to head down there for a squeeze to try and get a good deal.
But lo and behold...
ArcSaber 8DX going for $100, ArcSaber 9FLs going for $80, Armortec 900P LC going for $120...
Madness. Yonex is trying to put distributors out of business. I expect a whole lot of rackets being put up for sale on the forums soon.
Some dealers were also seen there. You'd want to be wary of "discount" prices for the above rackets since you know where they got their stock. All rackets from the sale didn't come with the Sunrise sticker, and do not enjoy the warranty period of 3 months.
But that aside, you might want to head down there for a squeeze to try and get a good deal.
Watching the world move
I can feel my skills slowly fade away as I nurse the injury to my thigh...
On the bright side, I've been able to catch up on some of the matches that I've not had the time to watch. I'm really looking forward to the rising stars of badminton, especially in the Women's Singles discipline.
There's the super talented Ratchanok Intanon, who's already three-time (and I'm guess a fourth) World Junior Champion. She's got a nice relaxed playing style, throwing a lot of deception into her strokes especially the feign lift to net drop that she tends to do a lot of.
Check out her grip on the racket, it's amazing. But when it comes to crunch time, her shots tend to go a little wayward and the grip will tighten. With more experience she'll be used to her opponents requiring a lot more shots to take down.
Young Intanon seems to have found a nemesis with World Number One Wang Yihan. The couple have met with Intanon's defeat several times already. But I have high hopes for this young champion. She will best the Chinese yet.
I recently had the chance to watch the 2012 Li-Ning China Masters, and there was this very raw Indian lady by the name of Pusarla Venkata Sindhu. She beat current Olympic Champion Li Xuerui in the quarterfinals.
Sindhu and Intanon have very different playing styles. Sindhu's the hard worker who can be a very good retriever with time. The long lanky lass gave Li a good run for her money, returning winners and forcing the Olympic Champion to make several unforced errors.
Being tall, she's also able to get very good angles on the cross courts, and she's got a habit of performing the drop shots from her left using the overhead. I guess it's an acceptable shot since she's able to scamper with no worries to the far side if her opponent should ever return it.
This young lady's also got an incredible smash, if she's ever given a chance to use it. She's still distant from Intanon's level, but it's promising to see these two give the Chinese a run for their money.
Man I miss being on the court...
On the bright side, I've been able to catch up on some of the matches that I've not had the time to watch. I'm really looking forward to the rising stars of badminton, especially in the Women's Singles discipline.
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| Photo: Yonex.com |
Check out her grip on the racket, it's amazing. But when it comes to crunch time, her shots tend to go a little wayward and the grip will tighten. With more experience she'll be used to her opponents requiring a lot more shots to take down.
Young Intanon seems to have found a nemesis with World Number One Wang Yihan. The couple have met with Intanon's defeat several times already. But I have high hopes for this young champion. She will best the Chinese yet.
I recently had the chance to watch the 2012 Li-Ning China Masters, and there was this very raw Indian lady by the name of Pusarla Venkata Sindhu. She beat current Olympic Champion Li Xuerui in the quarterfinals.
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| Photo: India Times |
Being tall, she's also able to get very good angles on the cross courts, and she's got a habit of performing the drop shots from her left using the overhead. I guess it's an acceptable shot since she's able to scamper with no worries to the far side if her opponent should ever return it.
This young lady's also got an incredible smash, if she's ever given a chance to use it. She's still distant from Intanon's level, but it's promising to see these two give the Chinese a run for their money.
Man I miss being on the court...
Selamat Hari Raya and happy holidays!
Quite a bit of the readers who chance their way to this blog are from Malaysia, and I thought I'd give a shout-out since it's the festive holidays over where they are.
Selemat Hari Raya for the Muslim readers, and happy holiday to all others!
Selemat Hari Raya for the Muslim readers, and happy holiday to all others!
Want to bet?
You know when someone makes a promise to you?
[INSERT EVENT] will never happen [INSERT TIMEFRAME].
Can't wait to see this blow up in their face...
[INSERT EVENT] will never happen [INSERT TIMEFRAME].
Can't wait to see this blow up in their face...
Whatever Works
Visions from their artistic minds escape my memory as the book closes for the last time and I raise my head to the sky.
The cityscape runs parallal to my journey, raindrops perforate the narrow view of my window screen. It shifts to a blur as the bus picks up speed, leaving my thoughts behind and forgotten.
I've always admired those who can draw, them with their uncanny ability to take whatever lies in their head and present it to the rest of us.
So many of us have these thoughts, grand and majestic; full of vigor and perfection; a paradise among the many fleeting moments of our short existences.
But artists, these are the people who can let you see, truly, the world as they want to see it - uncensored and without the filter other opinions.
The road fills with cars, and my bus draws to a halt. I do not move, but the smaller vehicles continue on.
I can only watch, and follow in their trail eventually, like a wordsmith reading a comic book.
Sailing
I don't need a picture to remind me of her face, but it helps when I want to pretend she's smiling at me.
For even in my mind, a mere look from her lovely eyes make my lips curl and cheeks flush - like the first burst of sunlight on air conditioned skin.
Welcoming. Captivating. Addictive.
For even in my mind, a mere look from her lovely eyes make my lips curl and cheeks flush - like the first burst of sunlight on air conditioned skin.
Welcoming. Captivating. Addictive.
Red Umbrella
Slow he moves - a singularity in the symphony of the rain that hiss at his presence. He trudges on, unaware of the rain's contempt and efforts to discourage his journey. In his umbrella he places his trust, crimson in the monochrome of the afternoon downpour. Heavy, the rain drops fall, bouncing off the red trampoline and onto the flooded pavement.
"No worries," he tells himself, "I'll be there soon."
"No worries," he tells himself, "I'll be there soon."
Too far
I started a book, and that's never a good sign.
On the way home today I had a thought, nothing new. It had been the same thought that lingers in my head for the past two weeks, but it made me think again.
It's been two months since I've lost myself to an afterthought. That sidebar has now grown into the feature story in my publication, and that's done nothing but distract me.
It's no good, especially when nothing good will come of this. I tried to keep away, but it's just so addictive.
I use the words 'magnetic', 'charismatic', 'weird' and 'captivating', but I know nothing comes near to the inexplicable bath of fulfillment that I am immersed in whenever I'm near.
Too much, too wrong, too deep in to waddle out. I just want the me from two months ago back.
On the way home today I had a thought, nothing new. It had been the same thought that lingers in my head for the past two weeks, but it made me think again.
It's been two months since I've lost myself to an afterthought. That sidebar has now grown into the feature story in my publication, and that's done nothing but distract me.
It's no good, especially when nothing good will come of this. I tried to keep away, but it's just so addictive.
I use the words 'magnetic', 'charismatic', 'weird' and 'captivating', but I know nothing comes near to the inexplicable bath of fulfillment that I am immersed in whenever I'm near.
Too much, too wrong, too deep in to waddle out. I just want the me from two months ago back.
Trouble
I've been told that I live my phases, and it can get pretty intense.
To make me lose my attention, it's got to be a wonder. And what a wonder it turned out to be.
I can't stop. I can't concentrate. I can't believe.
To make me lose my attention, it's got to be a wonder. And what a wonder it turned out to be.
I can't stop. I can't concentrate. I can't believe.
Pieces
I live in a small home, of a small town, in the littlest country. Here, although we're all so small and compact, we've learnt that there are many things that are in abundance.
For instance, there is never enough space for things to go around. I guess that's kinda expected given the amount of land we had to begin with. But then there's the spilling of insecurity; I find it troubling that I can't very well look another person in the eye and trust him with my name.
But last of all, because of all this evil, is the abundance of hope. Such a tragedy this wealth has afforded us - it ruins our lives, takes that of our loved ones, and then as a final insult, someone benefits from it all.
There is a small eating place near my apartment. It lies in the middle of one's journey from the commute to the home and seeks to provide a travelers' rest for those in need of a meal or a quick drink. From all perspectives it seems viable - it's visible from the roads, there is air conditioning (for we are also in no shortage of hot weather), and the food is reasonably good and sufficiently tasty.
But how it suffers! I one day went to buy myself dinner after a long day at work and found the place cleaned out, as it was once before, of tenants. The stores lay bare, stripped of anything that's of value, no doubt by debtors coming to collect. Not even a spoon nor plastic bag remains to give clues of what had existed before.
Overnight - that's how we roll around here. When someone somewhere rakes in thousands and thousands for his culinary showmanship, a family whose main bread was to chop up chicken and place it alongside a humble serving of rice will have to hide out from nasty men looking for payment on the loan he took to start his store.
This is not the first time the eating place will vacate, nor will it be the last. The owners of the land want to collect rent, and there will always be the hopeful who pursue the beaten road, unaware of the mass burial site at the end of the fork.
Hope is a horrible thing, but without it, we all might as well be chickens in a McDonald's poultry farm.
For instance, there is never enough space for things to go around. I guess that's kinda expected given the amount of land we had to begin with. But then there's the spilling of insecurity; I find it troubling that I can't very well look another person in the eye and trust him with my name.
But last of all, because of all this evil, is the abundance of hope. Such a tragedy this wealth has afforded us - it ruins our lives, takes that of our loved ones, and then as a final insult, someone benefits from it all.
There is a small eating place near my apartment. It lies in the middle of one's journey from the commute to the home and seeks to provide a travelers' rest for those in need of a meal or a quick drink. From all perspectives it seems viable - it's visible from the roads, there is air conditioning (for we are also in no shortage of hot weather), and the food is reasonably good and sufficiently tasty.
But how it suffers! I one day went to buy myself dinner after a long day at work and found the place cleaned out, as it was once before, of tenants. The stores lay bare, stripped of anything that's of value, no doubt by debtors coming to collect. Not even a spoon nor plastic bag remains to give clues of what had existed before.
Overnight - that's how we roll around here. When someone somewhere rakes in thousands and thousands for his culinary showmanship, a family whose main bread was to chop up chicken and place it alongside a humble serving of rice will have to hide out from nasty men looking for payment on the loan he took to start his store.
This is not the first time the eating place will vacate, nor will it be the last. The owners of the land want to collect rent, and there will always be the hopeful who pursue the beaten road, unaware of the mass burial site at the end of the fork.
Hope is a horrible thing, but without it, we all might as well be chickens in a McDonald's poultry farm.
Me on Immortals
I watched Immortals with the colleagues. It inspired me to rant, so bear with me.
Following in the footsteps of the delectable 300, Immortal promises to indulge our Greek Mythology fantasies by way of viscous blood, flying limbs and scantly clad people.
The storyline is simple, as always (for we all know what happens when we try to interject 'storyline' into a testosterone-filled slugfest *cough* *Troy* *cough*) - the overly skilled but underrated lone warrior has injustice served to him, picks up a weapon and off goes to annihilate other-worldly tyrant for the sake of mankind.
Immortal achieves little in terms of visual stimulation. Pure artistic masturbation, what with the over-the-top ways of dismembering a man in slow-motion. Greek gods, mortal men, overkill.
And an actress gets naked for the hell of it. That's always nice to have in a movie about men killing other men.
Surprisingly, it was what Immortal sought to achieve that proved to be it's downfall. With all the promises of violence and bloodbath, the fight scenes were overly simplistic, often not more than the main character impaling his opponents, slicing their throats and then throwing his spear at some soldier stupid enough to jump into an army holding spears.
Even with an opponent like 'The Beast', all it took were two cuts to the knees before the giant lay defeated after 5 pounds to the chest with his own bludgeon.
And of course, the hero cuts off the head off as a trophy, not to scare off would-be attackers but to toss into the ocean with noone else watching.
Oh, did I mention that it was all for a bow which he conveniently discovered while burying his mother? A bow that was used a total of 6 times in the entire 2-hour movie? The God Killer Bow, as under-untilized as the imagination of the scriptwriter.
If any, Immortal served to prove that even the Gods have Monday Blues, as they fought for their lives in juxtapose with the measly mortals they have 45 minutes ago refused to help.
Goes to show that if the powerful do not realize that they should help the weak, they too will have a lot of shit to clean up afterwards.
The highlight of the night came after the curtain call. I got into a conversation about wigs and minahs and mamas - all worth the price of the broken promise that is Immortal.
P.S. trust the movie reviews in My Paper over TNP.
The weight of lead
Isn't it funny, how the more we don't want something to bother us, the more it does?
It sinks within us, like we're standing on soft sand with lead weights pressed down on our shoulders.
We don't listen, even though in a way we admit that we can't stand any further. Time makes the impression deeper, and the falling rain makes the sand softer so we sink faster.
The longer we stand, the harder we find to step out, the more we want to step out, the more we say we don't want to.
Isn't it funny?
It sinks within us, like we're standing on soft sand with lead weights pressed down on our shoulders.
We don't listen, even though in a way we admit that we can't stand any further. Time makes the impression deeper, and the falling rain makes the sand softer so we sink faster.
The longer we stand, the harder we find to step out, the more we want to step out, the more we say we don't want to.
Isn't it funny?
Pansophy
It hurts, but we move on. In the rain, sound numbs the frozen emotions, lending strength.
Pictures revolve around memories lethal - fast to the point and lingering to ensure. Not much to work with, but artisans are seldom in need of excess.
The real world becomes blurred visions, paintings of what's in front of our unwitting eyes. Windscreen wipers act as hosts to a wealthy pool of reasons. More to come; there is always more.
Unwelcome, unwanted, overrated and all too infamous - the draining substantial from our deepest thoughts. Too diverse to gather, too shallow to drown in, we wander.
Pictures revolve around memories lethal - fast to the point and lingering to ensure. Not much to work with, but artisans are seldom in need of excess.
The real world becomes blurred visions, paintings of what's in front of our unwitting eyes. Windscreen wipers act as hosts to a wealthy pool of reasons. More to come; there is always more.
Unwelcome, unwanted, overrated and all too infamous - the draining substantial from our deepest thoughts. Too diverse to gather, too shallow to drown in, we wander.
Kef from a midnight scribble
How very wrong, sometimes, the things that feel so right. As the dark deepens and the air stills, emotions stir easy and the mind runs amok.
I am often stunned by the importance of the sun- this blunt truth brought to light (haha) with the aging night.
Familiar sights are lost in the pale yellow street lights, and I turn to relying on my memory to find the way. Rights become lefts, and the way forward seems to take me into another realm.
A thin veil of moist covers the night, mixing with the sweat on my brow as panic seeps into an ill-convinced mind. There is no secret in fear, like how there is no way out once you trespass.
But you power on, forced by the urgency to escape and the insecurity of retracing what you never were sure of in the first place.
And what do you find?
We all have different ways of saying it, but we all know what it feels like - a dull ache in the chest; an uneasy clench of your diaphragm; the cold, choking cough that lingers after the warm drink.
You're addicted, you want more because there wasn't enough to begin with. That's why you're here in the first place - a feverish desire to indulge yourself in the very essence that you know is wrong and unforgiving, living off little victories from the faintest grip on your lost imagination.
And you tell yourself to end it, but yet here you are, throwing out words to complete strangers who will judge you without knowing you at all; in this mist of careless revelations, there can be only one benefit - that I came out and said that I can think of nothing but.
I am often stunned by the importance of the sun- this blunt truth brought to light (haha) with the aging night.
Familiar sights are lost in the pale yellow street lights, and I turn to relying on my memory to find the way. Rights become lefts, and the way forward seems to take me into another realm.
A thin veil of moist covers the night, mixing with the sweat on my brow as panic seeps into an ill-convinced mind. There is no secret in fear, like how there is no way out once you trespass.
But you power on, forced by the urgency to escape and the insecurity of retracing what you never were sure of in the first place.
And what do you find?
We all have different ways of saying it, but we all know what it feels like - a dull ache in the chest; an uneasy clench of your diaphragm; the cold, choking cough that lingers after the warm drink.
You're addicted, you want more because there wasn't enough to begin with. That's why you're here in the first place - a feverish desire to indulge yourself in the very essence that you know is wrong and unforgiving, living off little victories from the faintest grip on your lost imagination.
And you tell yourself to end it, but yet here you are, throwing out words to complete strangers who will judge you without knowing you at all; in this mist of careless revelations, there can be only one benefit - that I came out and said that I can think of nothing but.
Perspectives
I guess Bhutan's trending right now, at least on my facebook wall.
As all ignoramus are, there I was minding my own business playing my facebook game when all of a sudden a post about one of our social media-savvy ministers came on.
It was about a written reply to his reference to the small kingdom of Bhutan. I won't repeat what was said because if you don't know by now you're better off reading one of my badminton racket reviews.
With that out of the window, I started asking whether I've actually placed myself in a similar situation as our dear minister - looking at a place with colored shades and wondering why it's all so retro.
Coming from a guy, it can get pretty annoying when someone comes up to you and starts offering advice left and right about how much better your life will be if you'd just start improving the way things are done.
Kudos to the citizen of Bhutan for opening my eyes on the varying degrees of the word 'better'. From the eyes of our minister, who comes from one of the most competitive countries in the world, the slow-paced lifestyle of Bhutan probably means the people are struggling to make ends meet, working their malnourished asses off just so they can afford the latest iPhone.
At that moment, I think he was placing himself on a higher pedestal.
Read the reply to our minister's perspective and you'll see the values and culture missed out by his city-dweller worldview.
I guess when you earn the paycheck of 30 people in your country, there's hardly space to consider that people can be content with breaking their back and sweating in the fields.
But then again, that's just how I see it. From now, let's all try to understand a few more perspectives before shooting our mouths off aye?
For a better world, and a few more fresh breaths of air.
As all ignoramus are, there I was minding my own business playing my facebook game when all of a sudden a post about one of our social media-savvy ministers came on.
It was about a written reply to his reference to the small kingdom of Bhutan. I won't repeat what was said because if you don't know by now you're better off reading one of my badminton racket reviews.
With that out of the window, I started asking whether I've actually placed myself in a similar situation as our dear minister - looking at a place with colored shades and wondering why it's all so retro.
Coming from a guy, it can get pretty annoying when someone comes up to you and starts offering advice left and right about how much better your life will be if you'd just start improving the way things are done.
Kudos to the citizen of Bhutan for opening my eyes on the varying degrees of the word 'better'. From the eyes of our minister, who comes from one of the most competitive countries in the world, the slow-paced lifestyle of Bhutan probably means the people are struggling to make ends meet, working their malnourished asses off just so they can afford the latest iPhone.
At that moment, I think he was placing himself on a higher pedestal.
Read the reply to our minister's perspective and you'll see the values and culture missed out by his city-dweller worldview.
I guess when you earn the paycheck of 30 people in your country, there's hardly space to consider that people can be content with breaking their back and sweating in the fields.
But then again, that's just how I see it. From now, let's all try to understand a few more perspectives before shooting our mouths off aye?
For a better world, and a few more fresh breaths of air.
Something unexpected
Pearl Harbored
US /ˈpɜrl.hɑr•bər/ phrasal verb [M]
Definition: To have lost the fight before it's begun, or to have been caught so far up the ass you're shitting out your mouth to keep your feet straight.
Mum totally pearl harbored me with this rant about how we don't respect her enough after we took her out for her birthday that weekend.
