Beck
I loved the anime. It's about a shy boy who befriends a talented guitarist and they go on to a wildly successful rock band Beck.
GANTZ
The manga is notable for its alien gore and babe galore so I was really surprised to learn that it's being adapted for the big screen. The use of CG in the manga comic is already pretty impressive so I'm looking forward to catching this at the theatre. There's no sign of the aliens in the trailer; I wonder which of the gruesome, ugly, ridiculous ones will appear in the movie... (Off hand I can remember the Shinto god statue aliens, dinosaur aliens inspired by Jurassic Park, giant-bird-in-human-body aliens!)
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
BBC documentary about blind man's travels
While waiting for Jazz to go for dinner, I found a BBC documentary about a blind journalist Peter White's travels to San Francisco and Istanbul. He seems to be having a good time "people-hearing", walking, attending a baseball game and talking to people. It's pretty amazing how a blind person can travel alone (I assume) and create a radio story without the need for sight. Here's what he says:
I’ve avoided (describing what can be seen) because I avoid it in real life. I personally don’t want people describing views to me because, having never seen, they don’t mean much.Click to listen Peter White's travelogue.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
the fullerton hotel
Beautiful isn't it, the Fullerton? I took this shot on my iPhone--its camera is definitely exceeding my expectations. The auto focus and exposure is so intuitive and matches where I want focused when I tap on the spot. It's amazing!
Since the opening of the casinos the number of visitors coming to Singapore has gone up. More and more people will come and admire the lovely colonial architecture alongside the dazzling new casinos and skyscrapers.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
sigh-kus..
Found 2 haikus from Shanghai trip my itouch transferred to my mailbox without my knowledge.
Down at the west lake
Emperor's tea and pagodaa
Sun drenched, crowd swamped day
Beautiful Suzhou
Gardens stone and museum
Alas have no heart
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
a short story
So there are friends who still keep up with my life through this rather dormant blog. Thought maybe I'll put up this very short account of my journey to work this morning. Maybe it's the hours spent listening to Karl Malentes' gripping Vietnam War novel, I'm inspired to write some of my own nonsensical life down.
morning muse...
With a hundred metres remaining between him and his office, O decided not to take the chance. He swerved into the YMCA, making his way down to the basement and knowing the holy grail is within a minute’s dash.
The toilet auntie looked at him quizzically as he scrambled past her pail filled with detergent water, saying to his back, “Be careful ah, the floor is wet.”
“Ok, thanks!” he replied. He would go in even if there was flood. He was seconds away from his deliverance.
He opened the wrong door. Behind it there was no pit. He cursed himself for it; he had been there a million times before for gym workouts.
“The one on the left. The left,” the cleaner auntie yelled, sensing the urgency in O. He remembered laughing at his shih tzu scrambling and turning frantically on the grass under the same circumstances and thought he must have appeared the same to the auntie.
Finally, he reached the drop zone, started the engines, dropped his wheels, wiped clean the seat and took off. He imagined himself a B-52 pilot on a death mission. He flamed Berlin like there was no tomorrow. He bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki with no remorse.
“Boy, got paper inside?” the cleaner auntie shouted, afraid she might have missed something in her daily to-do checklist. She felt guilty not mopping the place dry, thinking nobody would visit the hell-hole in this hour.
“Got!” He replied, annoyed he couldn’t be left alone in his moment of solace.
“HUH?”
“Got! Got! Have!” O shot back, and decided it was time he got back to work.
morning muse...
With a hundred metres remaining between him and his office, O decided not to take the chance. He swerved into the YMCA, making his way down to the basement and knowing the holy grail is within a minute’s dash.
The toilet auntie looked at him quizzically as he scrambled past her pail filled with detergent water, saying to his back, “Be careful ah, the floor is wet.”
“Ok, thanks!” he replied. He would go in even if there was flood. He was seconds away from his deliverance.
He opened the wrong door. Behind it there was no pit. He cursed himself for it; he had been there a million times before for gym workouts.
“The one on the left. The left,” the cleaner auntie yelled, sensing the urgency in O. He remembered laughing at his shih tzu scrambling and turning frantically on the grass under the same circumstances and thought he must have appeared the same to the auntie.
Finally, he reached the drop zone, started the engines, dropped his wheels, wiped clean the seat and took off. He imagined himself a B-52 pilot on a death mission. He flamed Berlin like there was no tomorrow. He bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki with no remorse.
“Boy, got paper inside?” the cleaner auntie shouted, afraid she might have missed something in her daily to-do checklist. She felt guilty not mopping the place dry, thinking nobody would visit the hell-hole in this hour.
“Got!” He replied, annoyed he couldn’t be left alone in his moment of solace.
“HUH?”
“Got! Got! Have!” O shot back, and decided it was time he got back to work.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
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