London. day 2.

Tonight was a weird night. It was cloudy but I could still clearly see Orion. In the distance is a celestial object that I suspect to be Mars, because it was shining bright orangey red. But I don't suppose I really want to know.

Spent the entire day at a dimsum place that had rather good dimsum and talked for hours with a friend. Politics, corruption, tv, movies, everything was a topic of coversation. It was rather fun. I haven't spent that much time with one person talking in one place in a long time.

Moving to greenwich tomorrow, rather looking forward to it actually. 4 days to the flight. How will London make me remember her?

Today, Calories

Met up with James and Henry. Gave me the biggest surprise anyone could ever give me. I shan't disclose what it is just yet, but I think they will, one way or the other. Bless'em for that. Had a few pints, in a good place. About to sleep, but just thought of this.

A few months ago I started counting calories. It's driving me nuts and I can't seem to stop, but for some reason, I don't ever believe the coke zero/pepsi max numbers. 1 kcal per 100ml? really? Not buying it.

Wonder if it's just me though.

Back to London. Iceland: Aurora Borealis.

First thing back from Reykjavik and how does London greet me? By having the Bakerloo line break down. well done London.

In any case, night one of four in Reykjavik Iceland starts here. :)

The 830pm bus took us to this desolate field with a make shift parking lot. Far away from the city, no artificial lights to clog up the brilliantly clear night sky. We waited in the freezing cold for ages, stargazing, trying to spot constellations or something. We were told to look east, some physics related reason that I don't remember, but east it was. Questioning that would be pointless. For the better part of 2 hours we couldn't see squat. Or at least, we thought we couldn't. With a 30 sec exposure on a camera, you could see that yes, indeed, there was a small green band above our heads. Hiding behind clouds, right above the atmosphere. We were just hoping that it'd come out of the closet. 1130pm, we all got on the bus, ready to leave disappointed. 10 minutes after the engines started, a large green band appeared right above the horizon, stretching all the way across our heads. A large band that increased in diameter as it pass above us. Elated, we got out. What was one band became two, then became a blanket. Intensifying really really quickly. It twirled and spun, danced around like a wave. Imagine a flame, but going round and about instead of up. Even with a bright full moon, the lights were clear as day. For a brief moment, we saw white and quick flashes of pink as it went on. It almost seemed like the colours within the blanket were teleporting around. Just about the most amazing things I've seen in my life. And then, like a dream, it was over, and it reverted to plain old green bands. We hung about for about maybe 30 minutes more, admiring one of mother nature's most stunning display of beauty. It flared up here and there across the night sky, but it never reached that level of ferocity that lasted mere minutes. For those few minutes though, we gasped and cheered and screamed. I speak for all of us there when I say that we won't be forgetting that. Ever.

Photos really don't do it justice. Nor do words, I'm aware. But still. I can't possibly live without at least writing this up. SO here it is, future self. For mostly your eyes only.

An open letter to whom it might concern, concerning the past 2 and a half weeks.

In this past month, I've been to a lot of places, seen a lot of things, and met a lot of nice people. I felt like I've lived more in the past 2 and a half weeks than I have spending 2 years in London. It was incredibly exhausting, and I've had my low points. But I've had more highs.

So this goes out to all you dudes, amigos, madammes, monsieurs, muchachos and generally all round good blokes( and ladies ). You might not see this, or hear about it, but you'll feel it all the same. You know who you are.

Thanks for making the past few weeks so memorable. I know I won't be forgetting any of it anytime soon.

Cheers, and take care of yourselves. Every single one of you.

Jw.

My problems with AVATAR.

Avatar's been out for quite some time, and most people have seen it, and most people love it. Let me preface this rant of sorts by saying that despite my issues, I still enjoyed the film immensely. The spectacle was awe inspiring, the acting was rather good and the presentation of it was amazing.

However, spoilers ahoy.

Plot racial text/subtexts

The story irked me in a way most white guilt films do. A person, usually of the white persuasion walks into an indigenous culture, slowly learning, assimilating and loving this culture that he has been sent to investigate, spy, or what have you. Falls in love with one of the natives usually "the fairest of them all" and ends up being "the most awesome one in the land" as Annalee Newitz probably would have said. Being a product of white colonialism from probably before World War two, it's hard for me not to inject my personal feelings about colonialism into this scenario. I found myself groaning and cringing every time Jake Sully conquers what the N'avi consider legendary feats effectively becoming a messianic figure of sorts. I did not want Neytiri to end up with Sully. It bugs me to no end to see the film pandering so obviously in the direction of it's perceived target audience. Yes, I am aware of the counter arguments that have been brought up by other, more intelligent people than me. But even after several days of digesting and analysing the film, I found it hard for me to look past the fact that this outsider, who came from nowhere, is able to integrate himself so completely into this culture in a matter of months. Devindra from the /filmcast mentioned that if Jake Sully wasn't white, the film would have been stronger. I whole heartedly agree, but this sentiment brings with it a new level of questions that I currently don't have the answers for. Is it my fault for not looking past the fact he's white? For example. Would it have been better if the story was told entirely from the N'avi's perspective? Would I have related better to the central character if he weren't white? Would I have related to him better? AM I just being racist towards white people for not wanting them to succeed? One thing is for sure; I wouldn't have these feelings if Jake weren't white. But obviously the movie could care less about my feelings, so I'll move on to a topic less political but equally as aggravating.

Bad Dialogue

Someone tell me I wasn't the only one who winced every time they said "I see you". Fortunately, the word "unobtainium" only surfaced no more than twice throughout the entire film. Ham fisted, explanatory exposition. Long, long scenes of Jake talking into his video log in which he outright tells us what's he's been doing for three months. Norman Spencer/Spelman whatever irritated me to hell and back. 10 years on the film and you're telling me Mr. Cameron sir couldn't have spiced up the dialogue a bit more? All that inner monologuing drove me quite nuts.

Length

Okay, this is a rather catch-22. On one hand, I definitely think it droned on in some parts, yet I was utterly mesmerized by the scenes they set on Pandora. But I just did not care for anything the humans did. Any scene with non-blue people in it I was waiting for the transition, hoping that we see more of the lush, green, and frankly beautiful world that James Cameron dreamt up at the next cut. The quandary here is that in a film told from the perspective of the human meatbags, you have to spend some time with them, in order to set up relationships etc etc. But they were boring as hell. Michelle Rodriguez dies at some point, and I felt NOTHING. So even with 160 mins under its' belt, the film did not made me care for most of the human characters. Sigourney Weaver also dies, but the feeling is underwhelming. At that time, I was left wondering why did I not care about the deaths of two rather major characters in the film. In fact, most of the characters you're introduced to dies in the film, but you'll shrug and go "eh". Or at least, I did. So cut it down, but put in more Pandora? I'll leave it to you Mr. Cameron. I'm ready for a sequel with no humans in it.

So despite my incessant ramblings, I still adore the film. I plan to see it again, but in 2D, just to see if it's just as immersive. Pandora is very well realized. Neytiri is hot, not to mention very well developed. The final 30 minute battle sequence is downright badass, and the message and heart of the film is in the right place. Still, it's annoying to think that this film could have been THE MOST AWESOME FILM OF ALL TIME. Too bad it's not.

Beware my power.....

Shit.

When you say shit like

Prayer is the most important tool because ppl may refuse our love or reject our message, but they are defenseless against our prayers. So pray n pray 4 others to be saved!

Think about what it is you are REALLY saying. Or maybe you do know, but choose to ignore it. In which case fuck you guys for condemning me to hell.

Tonight.

The night sky is cloudless today. Under tonight's bright moon, I see my own shadow. There's Orion in the sky, and I think that's Mars right there, shining its' crimson light, almost obscured by some trees in the distance. It was the first time in a long while that I looked up at night and saw the stars. The glittering of which have inspired so many to write, paint, and sing. It's quite magnificent. I wish I was back home. Then my knees wouldn't tremble, my fingers won't go numb. It wouldn't be so cold. I'd be able to lie on a bed of grass, looking up. Not doing anything, just watching. Trying to make my own constellations, as men in the past have done. Just a little bit of solace, before I resume trying to make what I do interesting again.

I have this lump in my throat

I have this lump in my throat.
It sits floating, much like a boat.

I have questions as to why it is there.
But the fruit of this tree, I fear will not bear.

Maybe it's because I'm depressed.
But one could also say it is stress.

Perhaps I don't go out enough.
But why? The weather's so rough.

Perchance it's the cold.
But on this I'm not sold.

I don't think it's cancer.
Or a tumor, it's not stranger.

He says it's mental.
To which I say, be more gentle.

But at the end of the day,
It vanished and went away.

So I'm left pondering,
When it'll return, wandering.

The upstairs shower.

I moved into this new place roughly two months ago. So far everything has been great. The rent is cheap, my room is massive, and everyone generally keeps to themselves.

The one beef I have with this place has to do with the shower, located upstairs. It's the only source of comfort when you start smelling and your armpits begin to itch. A good shower can stop wars. It can mend broken marriages, and above all, it helps keep my sanity intact. The shower in this house does a pretty good job of doing just that, except when it doesn't. And here is where my rant begins.

Every so often, while I'm cleaning myself, the hot water will go cold. Suddenly, inexplicably, and without warning. It's like premature ejaculation. Pleasure cut short. Potong stim. Very fucking annoying. I started to time my showers, making a mental note as to when the water chills. Being as bad a timekeeper as I was, I figured it was about 10 minutes or so every time I turn on the hot water. I figured it was some kind of temporal hot water cache that would run out, and needed to be replenished, which it did after a while.

My showers would generally go like this: Turn on hot water, enjoy it for a while, wait til it goes cold, then start using the shampoo and soap. Wait for the water to heat up again, by which the shampoo and soap would be nicely applied on my person, and use the second dose of warm bliss to wash it off.

So it was for a week or so. It made taking showers very, very annoying. Then I started to hear about my flat-mate's experiences with the upstairs shower. She has of course, been bitten by the suddenly cold suddenly hot problem before. But the curious thing was that she seemed to have rare occurrences in which the hot water would not act up. She said it often happened at night, about 9 or 10 o clock.

So I took her suggestion, and took one of my showers during this supposedly magic hour. But it seemed what worked for her would not work for me. Annoyed and confused, I felt like I had only one option left. That was to ask my rather uptight landlord about this.

What he revealed to me was rather telling, and surprising. The gist of it is this.

The hot water problem would only happen if while you were bathing, someone were to use water downstairs.

Still skeptical, I tried taking my showers in the middle of the night, when I was sure everyone was sound asleep.

It was glorious.

The first proper shower I had in weeks! I felt like I had made a major discovery. One for the ages. Or at least, for the rest of my time here. But the I got to thinking.

So my previous hot showers had been disrupted by someone willingly? If it was the landlord downstairs I could understand, since it would be rather pissy of me to ask him to check the shower every time he needed to pee. But what if it was someone living upstairs? The layout of the rooms upstairs is so that you would always know if someone was in the shower or not if you stepped out. This means that if someone upstairs was responsible, it would make them complete jerks.

Sigh.

Now I only take my showers in the middle of the night, which is apparently bad for you. Or something. I get nervous if I take a shower in the day. Having hot water cut off during a shower is about the worst thing that could happen to you during a shower, short of the scene from Psycho I suppose. I try to make sure I'm not disrupting anyone's shower every time I step out to wash my hands by checking upstairs. Not too troublesome for me, but I would never presume such a thing for others. What's left? Well not much, except to endure the fact that I can now only take showers in the middle of the night. Which, now that I think about it, isn't too bad a deal. It gave me renewed appreciation for that marvel that is hot water from the tap, but also made me a little bit more cynical about humanity's future. Hyperbole? Perhaps. But whatever. I'm out.