Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Monday, May 31, 2010

Italian Dressing



Calma

is a chant I repeat over and over to myself whenever I'm frustrated, stressed, or a little bit short of breath. It's not that I speak Italian, or have any grudges against "Astagfirullah", but I just prefer saying 'Calma' out loud, despite the reckless pronounciation.


Calma.

Remember, everything's fine. You are happy, life is good.
Think about what you can do to others, instead of what others can do to you.
Okay, shoot, now I'm starting to sound all funkyfucius.

(pseudotrance mode -look how I used pseudo instead of pretend. Yeay)

Wow.
Good lord this blog is turning into the dreaded 'curhat' blog.

Okay, that is so not cool.
Okay, I am having second thoughts. Okay, I am having issues with this. Okay, this is so against the image I want to project through this blog. Okay, this is embarassing myself. Okay, well maybe I should...

Calma! Calma! Calma! Calma! Calma! Calma!

Does this shit really work?
God why does Berlusconi get to bang hot young women and jibe Finnish cuisine at the same time?

-R

PS: I knew the word from reading a volume of FANTASISTA, in which main protagonist Teppei Sakamoto shouts the word out loud to distract the opposing team's defender's concentration


Sunday, May 30, 2010

I Saw You Doing Something With Your Hands







Let's talk about Grand Gestures.

Objects, love-gifts, charming giveaways , whatever you name it.
I'm a fan of them, I craft them, I enjoy making them, although I don't buy them.

Some people (the well-educated, I presume) questioned why I needed to make them.
Useless, over-the-top, theatrical, they said.

One fellow even went to the point of analogising them as masturbation.
Yes, jerking-off, playing with yourself, rocking the snake, all just because the act was assumed for self-gratification.

Now my friends, this woeful misinterpretation, I think, is because some folks think that the climax happens when I'm spraying stories around with that gleam in the eye to the canteen crowd, when I'm engaging in some kiss and tell (inherited from my old lady) with my comrades, the so-called Kom, where gossip spreads at the speed of light (of which I know, Kom peeps are secretly proud of this notion. Sorry to say, my highschool still one ups you by a country mile).

Well, that would be a very, very daft conclusion, a dishonorable mention to who I intended all of my 'Grand Gestures' for. That's why some have a degree in Sexology, like Boyke, while some play the Love Guru, like Mike Myers. They just can't spot the difference between actual orgasm and that spring in your step the following morning post-sex.

Pardon the analogy, by the way. I've never had intercourse, of course, but I couldn't find a more appropriate counter-analogy to the one about masturbation, which irks me constantly. But my point is, the pleasure... --Okay, I'll defect from the sexual thesaurus, so it won't erode my point--...

That warm, fuzzy feeling, I'd never experienced before I woke up on the other side of the bed some 30 days ago, sometimes occur when you truly know that the one you gave a Grand Gesture likes it, feels that it's special, and likes you even more for doing it.

The effort doesn't count up for anything.

Whether the effort has any meaning for that special someone, however,

counts up for everything.

-R

PS: Do you know where I left my sweetener?

Friday, September 4, 2009

Present

Phew.

I'm in my third year in UI now.

I have a lot of assignments on my hands now. (And I can't f**k it up)

I have a fun part-time job now.

I have a monthly stream of income now. (If I don't f**k it up)

I'm both whining and bragging, for such superficial things now.

and self-depreciating, too.

Long time no see,

but nothing's changed, see?

-R

Monday, June 22, 2009

Spock Says


"I will not allow you to lecture me on the merits of emotion"



R: I've heard this bit of dialogue way back from the debut of the first full trailer of my current favorite summer movie of the year, which happens to be J.J. Abram's Star Trek. With a warp-paced, character-driven (although in parts contrived) plot that focuses on the early years of Kirk, Spock, and the rest of the to-be Enterprise crew, this new take on Gene Roddenberry's creation is fresher, more likable, and definitely more accessible to the wider audience than ever.

A Trek character that has always fascinated me is none other than the most famous pointy-eared fellow in TV & Cinema (yes, even above those regal elves from LOTR): science officer SPOCK.

Played by Zachary Quinto, whose favorite past time is literally slicing open human heads as Sylar in HEROES, this Spock not only emulates the Spock of old, but as a younger version of it, brings an emotional side within the character that has never been unleashed to this extreme before. The dynamic between his Spock and James T. Kirk (admirably played by Chris Pine) is well-fleshed and pans out as one of the strongest points throughout the film.

This brings me back to the line above. Spock (as acting captain) utters it while being provoked by Kirk (why? go watch the movie). It actually sounds a bit cheesy without the context that Vulcans are uber-logical beings, and yet it keeps growing on me.

In fact, after watching the flick for an unprecedented 5th time (no, not because the movie's THAT good), I can't help myself from saying it at least once whenever I'm walking, looking in the mirror, taking a dump, and even when I'm typing a post on this blog (like now).

Seems illogical, right?

Is it illogical to say something,

that simply sounds cool as fuck,

although it's only a stylized version of saying:

SHUT UP!

Or is it just Mr Quinto's delivery?

Every God needs a Metatron.
(which sounds goddamn confusing without the context*)

And I may have just found one

-R



*)context

Monday, April 6, 2009

556

5 on over here.

On a 5 over there.

But all I want, is a 6.

-R

Monday, March 23, 2009

A Bad Week

Bad midterm exams, actually. Here's the breakdown:

-Tuesday

Global Marketing Communication
not sure about some of the argumentation -60-80

IMC
likewise, but on a greater scale -50-70


-Wednesday

Creative Planning
a breath of fresh air, too bad everybody had a chance to cheat, so no novelty -70-90

Media Planning
MISS-COMMUNICATION WITH MICHAEL CORLEONE. Fuck -30-50


-Thursday

Hard Sell
a relief -70-90

Visual Communication
this is not, I repeat what everybody had in mind of when they chose the subject -40-60


-Friday

Social Research Methodology
a showcase of stupidity and lack of logic -40-60

WORSE MIDTERM EVER. Ranks up there with semester one.

-R

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Creativity, Where Have You Gone?

10/3/’09

I’ve just returned home from an oh-so-normal day at campus. However, one particular moment in my IMC (Integrated Marketing Communication) class bugged me continually, even when I was already sitting on the bus, somewhat enjoying the rattles, shakes, and up and downs of the Ragunan-Kuningan Busway, while gazing perversely at the tanned thighs of the female tennis player who sat in front of me. That being said, maybe it wasn’t really oh-so-normal after all.


It was a small and insignificant moment, seriously. Not even worth talking about by a country mile. Problem is, I seem to contemplate a lot on these minute minutes, even when they seem to bear no ramifications.


It was simple. But let’s delve into the disclaimers beforehand: 1) my mind was, in a split-second, somewhere else 2) I was innocently drawing faces of people that don’t exist.


Spare a bit of your precious time, will you?


Building H, Room 20-forgot. Second session of IMC, the subject is something about consumer analysis. Until the end of the first session, I was still taking notes, but leisurely and in the awareness that mid-term exams loom next week. Delve back into the disclaimers, because that was what I was indulging in. The lecturer suddenly asks a question:


“blabla…new consumers blabla old consumers..”


My mind absurdly goes to the importance of relationship marketing over targeted marketing, and that too, is shrouded by an aura of forgetfulness. Like an idiot I say:


“Because old consumers will come back and back again” (shitty answer, I know)


The lecturer just looks at me and says:


“I expected more from someone like you”


I go all jerky and let it out that I wasn’t in the mood (lame excuse, but truthful in some ways)


She then passes the question to the bright pal beside me, who answers with aplomb.


“I’ll guess this one out. It has something to do with awareness. Getting new consumers requires the marketer to gain their awareness. This makes it harder than retaining old consumers” (This may even be fallacious misquotation of what he said, but who cares?)


The lecturer: Correcto Mundo


No, I’m not envious of the dude for profiting on my spoils. As a matter of fact, I was already half-way drawing a set of pointless characters representing feelings, like anger, loneliness, happiness, etc.


It was when I went downstairs, where the “Lae” of the dude who answered the question said, “Not in the mood, ey?”


I smiled, but something irked me. Come on, I thought. I can’t really use disinterestedness as an excuse, the fact had been written: I simply couldn’t answer the question, and that’s that.


But that was only a footnote, it was still remotely trivial. That was until my mind linked the preconditions of his answer to my own personal ghosts.


Let’s put it this way, the fellow who answered the question isn’t majoring in advertising, so he had not academically studied marketing before. Secondly, he didn’t take any notes during the session. And most importantly, he answered instantly, as if he pulled out a rabbit out of the hat.


Some might attribute these qualities to the sharpness of intelligence, but of my own accord, I’d register them as creativity. Why, you may ask? It’s down to the fact that he wasn’t as used to the subject as much as I was supposed to be. To be able to see how concepts align with each other at a glance and invent a logical assumption that in turn, answers a question you’re not familiar with, that’s definitely creativity. Don’t be fooled by the insertion of the word ‘logical’ in the explanation, because I’m referring to both sides of the brain working reciprocally to result in this burst of creativity.


And it is this concept, ‘Creativity’, that has been, for the past two years, my personal ghost.


I wondered where it had gone.


Let me pull out the bragging rights. I was always involved in creative-associated projects since as long as I can remember. As I kid I loved to draw all day, I was always influential in almost every significant creative project during high school, and I cheekily gained admission to the two arguably most creative majors in the country. A renowned art school in Bandung, and the highest-ranked communication program in the country. I chose the latter because it was, technically, an offer I couldn’t refuse


Like I said, those were bragging rights, in some way pointing out that, I like to brag. Yes, but not explicitly. I like to weasel myself to receive verbal accolades, position myself to gain a certain impression, self-depreciate myself to gain some appreciation (which is probably what I’m attempting now).


And so I entered Depok with a gleam of cockiness in my eyes. Things rolled out smoothly. A few favors here and there, and my abovementioned trifecta of bragging attempts were on the run. The branding was going as planned. Another four years of being praised as a creative individual, I thought.


But here I am one and a half years later, ranting about how creativity has become my personal ghost since then. Reason why? I’ll use the words of ‘Ada Apa Dengan Cinta’ screenwriter Prima Rusdi during her guest lecture (insightful for movie-geeks like me) to explain.


End of ’08, Creative Thinking Class, Building H, Room Also Forgot.


Prima Rusdi: How do you measure creativity in a professional environment?


Class: (silent, but most of them probably already knew the answer)


Rana: Their consistency?


Prima Rusdi: Bingo, In other words, their performance. The amount of creative end-product a scriptwriter, a copywriter, a director, anybody working as a creative, can come up with, week in, week out.


Her words made me reflect. How was my creative performance? I kept thinking about it for the following weeks. It kind of diminished any pride I had previously amassed from my boasting.


The list of personal creative failing for me contains many projects since I went to University.


-Comm Weekend: Never realized to its fullest potential. Although, I can take it, because of the circumstances


-Drug Prevention Program for the Social Department: Stuck on coming up with a story, didn’t really contribute in its conceptions. Presently messing up the storyboards.


-TV AFS Documentary Project: Stuck on episode 2, no creative gale whatsoever.


In regular life.


-Pretending to be a sort of ringleader that reflects and collects ideas from all over the board during a creative discussion, especially academic. This is actually down to the fact that I’m afraid to be stuck in the idea-building process.


-Posing as a movie know-it-all, conveniently positioning myself as a budding director. All you have to do is spent 60% of your time on wiki, imdb, aintitcool. comingsoon, and joblo. It’s that easy.


The list goes on, capitulating in that insignificant moment in IMC class.


Have I regressed creatively during my time as a university student?


I think the evidence is crystal clear.


Like my bright friend, please invent an answer to that, my friends


Wait…

Hold on a sec…


Having ranted all that, maybe there is still a bit of spark left in me.


I’d need that to write this post anyway, wouldn’t I?


Oops, I guessed that just spoiled the bragging attempt :)


-R

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

PsychoMom's Word of Wisdom (3/3/'09)
















comes out of these kind of conversations, only vice-versa with the designated seating.


R: (silent)

"What's a mature person?"

PsychoMom:

"Someone who can balance what he thinks, feels, and does. He knows what he's doing, why he's doing it, and how best to do it."

-R

Saturday, February 14, 2009

I'll know I'm in Heaven if...#1


God the Almighty says hi to me in the form of this:


and talks to me in different impersonations, like this:



Spacey rules. That in mind, this is what I call blasphemy:



-R

Friday, February 13, 2009