Friday, February 28, 2025

A Bit Of A Pain

The plan had been to hit the gym this evening. Alas, this did not come to fruition and, instead, I found myself at the doctor's. 

I've been nursing a poorly toe on my right foot for quite some time but what I assumed was a mildly unpleasant blister that would eventually burst, yesterday blossomed into a very noticeable lump that fairly screamed with pain when touched. I didn't sleep well last night on account of the protuberance and had no choice but to get a medic to take a look.

I've been prescribed anti-biotics to deal with the infection, but I'll need to report to A&E if the swelling doesn't reduce in three days or so. Troublesome, but anything that can deal with my present state of painful discomfort would be very welcome indeed.

Thursday, February 27, 2025

Another Good Thing

Not sure that a poem is a 'thing' exactly, but very sure that Carol Rumens's Poem of the Week feature in the Graun maintains an extraordinarily high standard of selection and commentary, and that the poem That by Rebecca Watts is an outstandingly good poem in itself and generated an exceptionally good series of comments BTL. My only complaint is that it took me until this week to read the whole segment on this choice from last week. But that's my fault.

Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Something Good

The gap in quality between the Malay dramas produced in Malaysia and those produced in Singapore, under the aegis of the Suria channel seems to me to be growing ever more pronounced. I presume there's more money involved in the stuff from Malaysia, in production terms, as it usually aspires to a sense of glamour and the high life, and can look expensively glossy. But in general the scripting is of a very low level, occasionally approaching the incompetent if not risible, and a good deal of the acting is of the stereotypical wooden variety. In contrast, I'm guessing that many of the series that feature on Suria are made relatively cheaply, being shot in ordinary, everyday locations, with little or no sense of glamour. Yet so often the shows are well-written and many of the performers shine in terms of genuine talent, as opposed to superficial telegenic looks.

Case in point: tonight saw the final episode of the series Cuci (meaning 'cleaning', broadly speaking) and in this household we've been glued to the set throughout its run. The idea of building a drama around the fortunes of a cleaning company specialising in 'post-trauma' work might not seem immediately appealing, but it's worked brilliantly. The work in question involves dealing with the mess of death, especially when bodies are already in a state of decay, and the series has conveyed in considerable realistic detail the reality of such work and the necessity for it - despite the potential stigma involved in the Malay community. One line of dialogue resonated particularly powerfully with me, partly I think because it sounds slightly awkward yet oddly poetic in the English translation given in the helpful subtitles: There is goodness in this work. I didn't quite catch the actual Malay used, which may have been more everyday than this, but the essential idea struck me as hugely insightful and important. The mildly quaint notion of something genuinely noble in the work was made real and powerful, partly through the sense of ordinary decency and kindness manifest in the central character, the much put-upon owner of the struggling firm.

And the young actress playing his daughter was perfect in her role. Not sure of her name, but she illuminated the screen in every scene involving her, especially those with her father. Both knew how to underplay emotionally intense material, resulting in a strong sense of everyday realism. You believed in them.

I suppose a cynic might argue that the strong moral sense underlying the action resulted in something too good to be true. But the best popular drama in any context does this. A happy reminder of the truth in goodness.

Tuesday, February 25, 2025

Good Things

Can't complain too much today about inanimate objects behaving badly. Indeed, if one were to regard the oxtail soup patented by The Missus as a 'thing', then the two bowls-full I've just consumed might be rightly regarded as constituting the perfect restorative. Evidence, if it were needed, that things can be good after all.

Monday, February 24, 2025

Things

You know it's been a tough day when inanimate objects turn against you. 

Just now the little carpet in front of our sink got painfully stuck between the big toe on my right foot and the toe next to it, which was already painfully blistered. Trust me, it hurt big time. According to Noi it was my fault and entirely due to the way I walk. I deeply doubt this. I reckon I walk pretty well and the carpet was just waiting for an opportunity to pounce and cause the maximum damage where it really hurt. I'm working mainly on instinct here, but if I think hard enough I could get logic on my side. But for now I'm just too tired to care.

Sunday, February 23, 2025

On The Way, Again

12.55

At the time of writing the title of this post is something of a misnomer. We'll be setting off for our usual Far Place of residence in the late afternoon, and I'm hoping this post won't be featuring updates from where we are on the actual road, as this will mean we're stuck there for some dark reason. The cause of Friday afternoon's jam, by the way, was a collision between a truck pulling a massive trailer and two cars. I'm told there's film of what happened somewhere on the Internet, but I can't be bothered to view it. Not sure if there were casualties - and certainly hope not, since that's the only thing that really counts in these mishaps.

Anyway, for now life is fairly free and easy since I've managed to clear all work-related matters this morning as well as enjoying the cup that cheers at Warung Nek Munah's with Fuad & Hamzah for company - plus another later with Noi in the kitchen. Also the water for the house seems to be restored. It suddenly ran out yesterday at the very end of the kenduri when our student-guests were leaving. We figured the pumps may have have been over-used considering the large numbers taking their ablutions for prayers. So I wasn't able to shower properly this morning and remain grittily unshaven, but I've just managed a good wash and now feel a little more human.

I'm off now to lose myself in Citizens. I'm in the final stretch, with the Committee for Public Safety just formed and lots of killing to come on its behalf. (Shades of 1984 in the naming thereof, eh?) Hoping to complete Schama's Chronicle before Fasting Month begins as I've lined up my Islamic-themed reading completely now, and that will take priority.

Saturday, February 22, 2025

Job Done







A very hot day here in Sungai Petai. Our kenduri now completed with everyone enjoying a most satisfactory time. Amazing the amount of effort that goes into these occasions. And how deeply worthwhile they are.

Friday, February 21, 2025

On The Way

14.35

Just back from Friday Prayers and making final preparations for a trip north, to Melaka. We're hosting a kenduri on the morrow ahead of Ramadhan. Hope the road ahead isn't overly bumpy!

19.08

Posting from on the highway for the first time ever. The Missus is on driving duty and we are going nowhere fast. One of those completely inexplicable jams that you can find only in Malaysia. This is not fun.

19.46

Our first time in Malaysia for months and we choose the day when all the lanes on the main highway get blocked due to a catastrophic accident. Oh hum. Well at least the jam is no longer inexplicable.

Quite some time later:

Made it to Mak's house by 9.45 pm, so not so bad. And ate a meat and cheese sandwich to ease the pain of the journey, which was excellent!

Thursday, February 20, 2025

History Is A Nightmare From Which I Am Trying To Awake - 8

Schama describing the fate of the Swiss guards assigned to protect Louis XVI at Versailles:

Hunted down, they were mercilessly butchered: stabbed, sabered, stoned and clubbed. Women stripped the bodies of clothes and whatever possessions they could find. Mutilators hacked off limbs and scissored out genitals and stuffed them in gaping mouths or fed them to the dogs. What was left was thrown on bonfires, one of which spread to the palace itself. Other bits and pieces of the six hundred soldiers who perished in the massacre were loaded haphazardly onto carts and taken to common lime pits. It was, thought Robespierre, "the most beautiful revolution that has ever honored humanity."

As I noted yesterday, I can't look away. Not sure what that says about me. I hope it's an indication of a concern that if we fail to acknowledge our capacity as a species for carrying out this kind of violence it's all the more likely to happen again, just as it did on 10 August 1792.

And this is by no means the worst paragraph in the book in terms of sheer bloodiness. There's one on the killing of the Princess de Lambelle a bit later that I just cannot reread.

Wednesday, February 19, 2025

Quelle Horreur!

Simon Schama is holding me tightly in his narrative grip as he unfolds his Chronicle of the French Revolution. I mean, I knew from its reputation that Citizens is a superb book, (though I'm also aware that some historians disapprove of its lurid retelling of events) but I really didn't expect it to be so riveting, and this in telling a story I already know the broad outlines of. Ever since he reached the later part of 1789, his compelling understanding of what fueled the appalling violence, and his graphic outline of the grim realities of the horrors involved in the revolution, has reminded me in an odd way of the very best of Stephen King.

I'm now wading through the blood spilt in the September massacres of 1791 and rather wish I wasn't. Though, paradoxically, I can't look away. One sign of which is that I'm reading every paragraph twice just to try and take it all in.