The Dark Manifesto

After years in the pipeline, months of procrastination, and a week of work, I finally did what I've been wanting to do for quite a while now (no, not engage in a threesome with two busty blonde chics). I've finally put the finishing touches on my own little virtual gallery of my works, the not-too-many works of my not-that-long-thus-far life. But still....

For those who have always been wondering what the hell I actually do for a living, and exactly how good or bad I am at my job, its now open for your viewing pleasure and public scrutiny. It's all available at:

http://dark-manifesto.blogspot.com/

Spread the word and the love to those who you think might even be the slightest interested.

...From Under my Feet

There are too many ways that one could fall. A lean to the left, a wobble to the right; some fall to their knees, and others flat out on their backs. But there is surely no worse way to fall than to have the "Rug Pulled Out from Under One's Feet".

A sudden jerk, an unexpected pull, and not only does the one on said rug fall in the most spectacularly humiliating and ridiculous manner; leaving one in shock, ridicule, pain and eventually anger, but beyond its literally connotations, the phrase can very much be said to have the very foundations of one's world stirred and shaken, causing it to implode into a bloody mess and leaving a wake of pieces to be picked.

There are too many ways to fall, but in an almost self-prophesying manner; there is no way more deserving for one of my stature to fall other than that of the utter most spectacular and disastrous way.

Today, I had the Rug Pulled out from Under my Feet....... again.

......... Before you can Touch the Sky, You'd Better Learn how to Kneel

Niagara Falls: Hell and Highwater

13th July 2008

The queue towards the elevator snaked all the way to the back, and my companions and I were almost at the tail-end of it; but it didn't bother us one bit, as the sights around us captivated our souls in amazement.

Canadian shores laid opposite us with the connecting Rainbow Bridge standing proudly on our left, suspended over the calm, green waters of the river below. A scene of soothing tranquility as the cars cruised across the bridge almost in tandem to the white foams of the river flowing by.

Pot of Gold

The scene on the other side was one of stark contrast; the distant roars of the 2 different falls rang in the background. Clouds of mist that rose towards the sky from the bottom of the cascades only served as proof of the might of the cascading waters. Little blue people scrambled about the foot of the falls, hoping to get a bit more upclose and personal with the Maiden of the Mist, while equally tiny onlookers viewed the rear of the falls from a safe distance from an overlooking park.

Perfect Picture

When we first set our eyes upon the panoramic-view of the falls from our vantage point, my friends and I stood there utterly speechless; mostly out of amazement at the beauty of the way the different elements of man and nature came together to form a perfect picture. As we looked down at the Maiden of the Mist and the Veil of the Bride American Falls, with the main horseshoe falls setting the misty backdrop in a distance, we knew that our 8-hour trip was utterly justified, and almost pitied the people who opted out of joining us to get a first-hand experience with the Natural Wonder.

We were almost-subconsciously pushed to the entrance of the elevator, ready to make the long descent to meet the ladies face to face. It's a queer thing how the falls have such feminine monikers like "Maiden of the Mist" and the "Veil of the Bride." The elevator doors closed as I felt the pressure in my ears increasing. What we were about to see would surely provide a brand new perspective of the falls relative to the morning's visit.

The morning re-visit to the park that we were at for the night scene of the falls met with the same dastardly fate as the night before. Grey clouds looming overhead hinted that we wouldn't be seeing any rainbows in the daylight.

The day-time view of the Falls was less threatening than what we had witnessed the night before. While the mighty torrents of the river still rushed down the stream with the same thunderous gushes, the increased visibility made the green waters project less of a sense of fear and mystery than in the dark.

Daybreak

Not lost in translation however, was the great mist that rose from the impact of the cascades. Standing near the railings, I could feel the refreshing vapours of the Mist gently caressing my cheeks. So lost was I in the moment that I didn't really notice the raindrops that were falling on the dispersing crowd.... again.

A slight jerk followed by a chime indicated that we had reached the bottom of our descent, as we stepped out into the daylight, we heard the angry roars of the American Falls coming from our left. But the immediate priority was to join the ever-increasing queue for the Maiden of the Mist boat ride.

Down the queue, we were handed large, oversized, one-size-fits-all raincoats. Surely a primer to the wrath of the falls that we were about to face. Looking ridiculously undersized for our attire, we climbed to the upper deck of the boat to try to get the best view possible for our $200 bucks worth.

Never has the Raincoat looked THIS Sexy

"Welcome to the Maid of the Mist boat ride, ladies and gentlemen," the captain's voice came over the speakers as the boat started to make her way upstream against the peaceful, emerald-green waves. But we were far too busy pushing through the crowd to really pay attention to what he was saying.

I pushed through the crowed and manoeuvred as close to the side of the boat as I could. Just as I emerged from the chaos, I stood rooted to the ground in wonder at the view that I was getting of the Maid of the Mist.

Love on the Rocks

Almost perfect streaks of white-water rushed off the cliff at the top, hitting a bed of rocks on the way down, emitting clouds of mist that rose towards the sky, while the white-waters continued to snake and meander their way down into the river below. The sight was one of that was awe-inspiring and yet, oddly soothing in a zen-like fashion at the same time.

The boat continue to sail further upstream, approaching the main Horseshoe Falls as our gaze remained fixated on the beautiful sight of the American Falls. It was only when the blue and yellow people grew much smaller and the trademark thunderous roars of the Horseshoe Falls grew louder that I shifted my focus.

Impending Doom

As if heading for impending doom, the boat cautiously sailed into the grasp of the threatening horseshoe so often portrayed in media forms. While not as towering as often depicted, there was no doubt about the velocity of the waters that earned the Niagara Falls its moniker of "Thunder Waters." The walls of the world's widest waterfall stretched in an almost perfect semi-circular fashion as water rushed off the cliffs from all sides, causing us to be buried in a large collective cloud of mist.

Music started playing through the boat's speakers as we sailed further into the treacherous jaws of the horseshoe; perfectly constructed walls of water surrounding us on every side. The captain paused briefly as the music quietened, the boat's engine slowed as the boat continued to drift into the Eye of the Storm.

Just as the boat drifted into the centre of the horseshoe, the Captain's voice came over the speaker...

"Ladies and gentlemen.... this is Niagara Falls."

The music dramatically climaxed into a crescendo as the mist rushed at us from every direction, engulfing us with a vengeance; as if Mother Nature was trying to assimilate us into the collective mist that spewed from her foreboding jaws. The calm was nowhere to be found in this Eye of the Storm for certain, as we were drenched thoroughly through our raincoats, having me drip from cap to toe... and yet, I loved every drop of it.

The boat turned tail to retreat and escape from the threatening clutches of the horseshoe, as I stood at the corner of the boat in an attempt to capture my close encounter with Mother Nature's fury. As if to put me in my place, she unleashed her fury in the form of an overhead wave that slapped me across the body as I held my ground in defiance.

Defiance

I gritted through the fury of the tides until the ship pulled far enough away from the jaws of doom, finally earning a breather as we enjoyed the round-trip scenery of the American Falls once again. Yellow and blue people continued to scale the winding staircases under the foot of the two American Falls, as I knew that I would be one of those little people the moment the ship docked.

Survivors

As we stood at the foot of the hills, we saw a string of blue meandering up the staircases at the foot of the falls in search of a little upclose and personal time with the Maiden of the Mist. With some sort of slightly masochistic adventurous streak, my friends and I sought to get another round of lashing from Mother Nature.

Jer and Will went up the Hill to fetch a Mouthful of Water

We ascended with caution, up the slippery steps and enduring the periodic sprays of rage that the Maiden of the Mist rained upon us, with the sprays getting stronger as we ascended higher and higher. We saw people turn back halfway into the pilgrimage with squeals and screams due to the increasingly menacing sprays, but we chugged on towards the very top of the stairs, and awaiting us there was nothing more than an open wooden platform and a potful of pride.

Probably angry with our persistence, the Maiden of the Mist rained her fury upon my friends and I, beckoning us to turn around and head back. Even though her anger was relatively less menacing than her bigger counterpart, it was still enough to drench us through our raincoats for one last time, temporarily destroying my camera in the process as we attempted to squeeze out our last few memories.

Extent of Damage

As I sat in the 8-hour bus ride back to Boston, shivering from the cold air-con blasting away and through my soaked t-shirt onto my skin, with water still dripping off the hood of my cap, madly fiddling with my vapour-filled camera, and moving my toes to feel the water squishing about in my shoes and my socks; logically, I knew that I should been feeling cold and miserable. Yet almost unexplainably, I couldn't help my smile to myself in satisfaction as my eyes grew heavier and heavier...

Legend of the Falls

Virtual Insanity

A man dressed in green and red ran across the ground, jumping over some unknown manner of beast that was shaped like a... mushroom? Jumping over a pitfall and avoiding certain death just for that LITTLE bit longer. The man jumped, hitting his head hard against a brick ceiling, as a mushroom appeared out of nowhere with a sound effect that would become instantly distinguishable even 20 years later.

The year was 1988, as I set eyes, for the first time, on what would later become a household name, Super Mario Bros. My uncle continued to try to manoeuvre Mario around the level with utmost finesse. But inevitably, he plunged to his death eventually. Letting out a hearty laugh at his clumsiness, he looked around and asked, "Want to try it?" He then prompted me to wrest the controller from his hands.

Eager to experience the Virtual Insanity that I had just witness first-hand, I rose to the challenge and grabbed the controller. The soon-to-be familiar music as my anticipation grew. The green and red pixels lit up the screen as I grasped the controller my tightly than I needed to. I walked forward to the approaching mushroom-shaped Goomba, and tried to jump, raising the controller instinctively as if it were motion-sensitive, but still landing right in front of it and seeing Mario rise and fall off the screen in his dying animation.

That was my first experience with Video games, a miserable attempt; but even though it was miserable, it was intrinsically fun for the 3 seconds that it lasted. But little did I know then, that a 3-second experience, would be the jump start to a now-in-it's-twentieth-year hobby, a Passion, more so than anything else.

The rest of the night went by with my cousins and I taking turns to get used to the controls of Mario, jumping and waving our hands like crazed-kids and shouting at the stop of our lungs with each close call we made.

A week later, with much nagging and persistence, my dad finally succumbed and we brought home our very first Video game Console, the NES, and of course, with Mario. In fact, for a long time, it was the only game that we had, but back then, we didn't care, my brother and I (I more so than my brother) could play for hours on end, dying and restarting over and over again.

The situation remained relatively the same throughout our entire childhood, only getting less than 5 new games every year, we were content with playing our games over and over again, often alternating between the limited choices that we had.

Times were simpler back then, we were perfectly fine with going through the story of Shining Force for the 7th time, there was no Internet, so we played the games over and over again to explore every nook and cranny in the game, and self-discovered every secret the game had to offer.

Difficulty was brutal, with many games not having a Save feature; meant that we had to start from the first level each time we played, and soon mastered the earlier levels of a game with machine-like precision.

20-years is a long time, and now, the gaming scene has totally changed, along with the rest of the world. While it has become a lot more of a "cool, mainstream" hobby with the passing of the Playstation generation, it was also attracted a fair amount of charlatans who claim to be "hardcore gamers" when they know nothing beyond the bounds of the franchises made famous by the Playstation, or have no clue of any Final Fantasy before part VII.

Of course, the pacing of consumption of games has increased tremendously over the years as well, and I am guilty of this touch-and-go pattern of consumption as well, especially after having a bit more power over my finances as the years went by.

What started with 1 game on one console, has now grown into an empire of 559 games spread across 16 consoles in the last 20 years, with an estimated worth of... $16,837.70 (I'm assuming USD), and that is not including the bootleg crap that I bought and the NES games that I lost along the years. [My Collection]

The only thing slightly more scary than that amount that I've actually spent on this Passion and the monstrous collection that I've built up, is the amount of my life I've actually burned away on this said Passion.

An article on the Gamasutra talks about How to Hire Good Game Designers, and one of the listed requisites is that game designers are generally either making games with their spare time, or simply playing them. What it doesn't mention though, is the context of relativity of the word "spare time."

So I guess, with 20 years of "spare time", inclusive of school and all the rest of the irrelevant educational crap that consumed the better half of the better half of my life, one would be able to have played a buckload of games; 583 to be exact, in my case, more than 70% of which I can say I finished, and a good chunk of them being of the soul-sucking RPG genre. [Games Played]

"Passion" has always been a very strong word, one that is used too flippantly these days. Too many charlatans lay claim to the word "passion" even though it might only be a passing phase for them, regardless of the activity.

But in my case, 20-years, 16 consoles, 559 games bought, and 583 games played later, I think that I can safely lay claim to the word "Passion" when it comes to gaming. After all, for a commitment-phobic like me, if I can commit to something for 20 years, it would more than probably mean something, right?

The red plumber runs up to the all-too-familiar Goomba, as I tilt the analog stick forward and hit the A button. My estimation of the landing of the jump in 3-D was a little off, as the Goomba approaches me from the back. I shake the motion-sensitive Wii-mote (how ironic) to make Mario spin, knocking the Goomba away. I tilt my head from upside-down to right-side-up as I see Mario restore his naturally bearings; a natural reaction to the mind-boggling gravity effects in Super Mario Galaxy. I finish the stage to an all-new chime of accomplishment.

With a smile of amazement on my face, my eyes gaze through the Virtual Insanity on screen, as I wonder, what the next 20 years would be like.

Meritus Mandarin: Oasis

13th - 14th September 2008

"Don't get out of the car darling," I beckoned as I saw her reaching for the door handle.

"Oh ok," she said, as she quickly retracted her hand.

Watching the back view of my brother and his girlfriend get more distant away from us, I reversed the car and headed for the exit of the condominium.

As I went through the raised barricade, I expected her to express some sort of shock, surprise, doubt or the like, but all was peaceful as I headed up the bridge to the ECP.

It was only some distance down the road that she finally blurted out, "How come the carpark is so far away?"

With a cheeky grin of secrecy and glee, I replied, ""Because we're going somewhere else to swim."

Bursting out into an hearty laughter of her own oblivion, silence littered our conversations as I could see the visible signs on her face of her trying to figure out where exactly was the "place that opens past midnight" that I hinted at the night before.

As we emerged onto the CTE, she said, "I recognize this. Are we going to town?"

"We're going past town," I replied, still trying my best to hold the surprise out just a LITTLE bit longer.

But I knew that it was only a matter of time before I could no longer hide it and it became too obvious, since we've travelled down the familiar road far too many times. But I was glad that I managed to keep the secret till one bend away from our destination.

I turned to her as I saw the light of realisation finally beaming from her face, followed by a wide cheek-to-cheek grin, perhaps one of idiotic bliss, as I always say.

I lugged the bag out of the booth as we made our way down the corridors to the main lobby of the hotel. Dressed in an awkward berms and t-shirt get-up, one that was intentional so as not to rouse too much suspicion from her, I approached the counter to check in and received the keycards to the room.

"It's on the 20th floor darling, I asked for a room as high up as possible," I told her, as we entered the lift. She was still grinning idiotically.

Exiting into a quiet, carpeted corridor, I smelt the familiar stillness that ran through the air of hotel corridors, nothing particularly foul, but just something a little more... still. We glanced left and right at the door numbers before finally arriving at the room.

The Room

A slide of the key card, a push of the door; and we finally took our first step into the room, our room. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the room, with the window looking out towards the rear end of orchard, a pity that we didn't get the more exciting view.

As we stood at the doorway, in a moment of complete observation and scrutiny, I plucked my ears, only to catch nothing but silence. Despite being in the heart of the city, the room was high enough that the hustle and bustle of the busy streets below wouldn't have the power to muscle its way up and disrupt the peace and quiet of our little slice of paradise, one that was isolated from the rest of the world, and time stood still.

Excitedly (her more so than me), we took the first few moments to explore the intricacies of our little island of isolation, rampaging through the drawers, sliding open the cupboards, and marveling at the surprisingly large size of the room and the luxurious facilities at our disposal.

"This room is really very 'business-like'," she said, "especially with the study table facing out of the window like this, I think its very conducive for creative works."

I peered out of the window into the vast nothingness, a view unobstructed by any other tall buildings or such, one that had grey urban buildings and black roads stretched out for miles, but induced a sense of almost-freedom from the world below. Coupled with soothing silence of the room, I could echo her sentiments exactly.

When finally satisfied with the interiors of the room, we decided to explore the exteriors that made up the rest of the hotel. Making our way down to the swimming pool made us realise that we only had an hour or so if we wanted to take a dip, and with that we wasted no time in getting into the water, after all, since I already went all the way to use the swimming thing as a red herring to throw her off-guard about the location, might as well fully utilize the props involved in the play.

Aside from a few tourists trying to sunbathe under a virtually non-existent evening sun, we basically had the pool entirely to ourselves. Water has always been a comfortable element for me, and some things just don't change, no matter how long you stay away from it. Happy with an hour in the water, we finally decided to head back to our little island to prepare for the big night *ahem* out.

Prepped up and all ready to go, I turned to her and said, "So darling, you have 3 options of where you want to eat: Triple 3, Pine Court, or... in-room dining."

Poison Apple

She burst out in laughter after actually hearing the options before she started to sit down and think.

"I'll go with in-room dining," she answered after giving it some thought, "because that is something that we can only do tonight. What would you have chosen?"

"Actually, I would have chosen the same, that was the original plan, that's why the hint actually was 'a place that opens past midnight', because technically, the room doesn't 'close', haha," I answered.

With the decision finally made, we decided to head down to the supermarket across the street to pick up some "supplies" before dinner proper. As we exited the sliding glass doors of the hotel lobby, we entered the familiar weekend-chaos of Orchard Road. People hurriedly shuffling about through the crowds, cars jammed up at the traffic lights, the occasional horn that rose above the loud, constant festive music; it was only then, that I realised the parallel drawn between the quiet isolation of our little abode and the disrupting noise of the weekend crowd.

It was ironic that the separation between the mood of the two spaces were separated merely by a couple of storeys in between. While it was rather shattering to the illusion of complete isolation, the insanity that reigned below made me appreciate the serenity of the room so much more when I finally set foot in it again after a very long 30 minutes.

A phone call and 20 minutes later, the door bell rang as our stomachs echoed in anticipation.

Phone Booth

The waiter wheeled in the table and started setting it up, unveiling dish by dish, before a feast fit for a king laid before our eyes.

Eyes on the Prey

"See darling, don't you feel like a king when you order room service?" I said with a smile on my face.

She nodded in agreement and satisfaction.

Dinner was a romantic affair over a window view of a string of occasional lights amidst the pitch black darkness of the rear side of Orchard Road, while soft love songs that accentuated the movie "The Lake house" served as our background music. The ambiance of the room locked us away in our own little time capsule as we savoured our make-shift 3-course dinner purely in the company of each other.

We started with the delightful Samosa and Spring Rolls, which we both agreed, were exceptionally crispy and more than tantalizing as a starter to the meal, especially the Samosa. The Smoked Salmon Caesar Salad proved to be a refreshing change of taste, with the greenery and the rich Caesar dressing. Her Fish & Chips added the finishing touch to her meal, while I settled for the Lobster Laksa. Only given a sampler from our last visit to the Chatterbox, the Lobster Laksa was rich with the taste of the gravy and had succulent lobsters to boot.

In typical fashion, I ordered more than I should have and was left bloated and immobile on the bed immediately after giving up on the final pieces left on the dishes.

I looked at my watched as we laid there, and said, "Happy Anniversary Darling," kissing her softly on the cheek upon the realisation that it was just past midnight.

She reciprocated the favour before saying, "Ok wait, I have something for you." She drew one of the drawers and pulled out a little rectangular boxed-shape gift that was wrapped in sleek, black wrapping paper.

"Here's your present, I hope you like it. Happy Anniversary." she said as she handed me the gift.

Giving up on trying to unwrap the present as gently as I could, I finally tore through the wrapping paper, only to discover that I had become the proud owner of a brand new, 4th generation Ipod Nano, and the icing on the cake? It was in its sleek, silver glory, and we all know that "I only accessorize with silver."

I Only Accessorize with Silver

Elation would be an understatement, as a new Ipod was something that I needed now, more so than ever, and also considering the fact that I almost wanted to buy a new 3rd generation one in the US before the entire poverty-inducing debacle.

I smiled at her with gratitude and appreciation, while she smiled back with satisfaction and perhaps relief.

As we lay in the bed, our eyelids growing heavier, she said to me, "You know dear, I don't really want to fall asleep, because I know that when I do, the next morning when I wake up, this will be over, and we have to go back to reality."

I resonated with her words as I struggled to keep my eyes open for a little longer. But the night grew later and my eyelids grew heavier, as I sensed my consciousness drifting away. I smiled about the magical events that had transpired over the course of the day, and thought about the isolation that we had relished through the course of the hours. I thought of the memories that we had made and the moments that we had shared.

As the last bits of my consciousness started to fade away, I mustered a smile on my face as I fell asleep, a smile of the experience of reaching a little Oasis for my weary soul in the walk through the Desert of Desolation over the course of the last few weeks. And after the magical weekend with the best of company in our own little space; deep inside me, I felt that my was soul.... was recharged.... and ready.... to.... continue.....pressing........forward.

366 /2