I am reminded of a conversation that I had with my former editor, who was also a former player (now a married man and a father of one, I heard, bless him). It was about the treatment of women by men, and how I am against women being treated like an object, to which he said:
"You and your feminist views."
"I am not a feminist," said I.
"You sound like one."
To tell you the truth, it's not about me being a feminist or not being a feminist. I just hate labels. I hate the 'ist' (except for 'novelist', but then again, I prefer the word author/writer). The thing is, sometimes when we label ourselves with the 'ist', we tend to become obsessed with the tag/label and started behaving like the 'ist' we chose.
I am not saying being feminist is bad. Not at all. I, of all people, hate it when women resorted to 'asking men for help because we're just so weak and in need of manly strength...' (Oh come on. I can lift a cupboard on my own...) or the double standard in the corporate world, the mistreatment of rape victims, and all the other sexual harassments cases. I hate it when women think that they can't go far with their brain, or spending an awful lot of time being angry with the world because some other pretty girls get things easier (I will talk about this thing in another entry). I hate it when we are associated with things like "shopping", "shoes" and "make up", as if we're just that (and sadly, some women do attribute themselves with only those things)
In a way, yeah, I have feminist... tendency? thoughts? ideas?
Anyway, what I am saying is, I kept hearing people calling themselves "liberalist", "Islamist", "fundamentalist", neo-progressive thinkers, modernist, and whatever label you can use. Sometimes when people ask me what I am, I just said I am a neo-pseudo-feminist counter liberal antagonist.... it doesn't have any meaning, but it's fun to see people going "oooooo" as if it's a thing.
It's not a thing. I'm just being sarcastic.
Not that I am against the isms. I just hate it when people are sooooo in love with their labels, that they shape every single thing, even things that don't matter, into the kind of label they want to be. It's as annoying as talking to people who said stuff like, "I am a Saggitarean, we like doing things that way" or, "I was born in the year of the Ox, so I am a bit stubborn...", "I am of the O blood type. We're a bit hot-tempered". Seriously, stop blaming the year you were born or the zodiac sign for every effed-up behaviour you have.
It's now "Oh, I am a progressive liberal thinker and I think these people are idiots."
You're an idiot.
In saying this, I am not saying that everybody with the 'isms' are all annoying labelists (is that a thing?). I am just saying that while labeling yourself is fine, don't make it a habit in every conversation. Yes, I know you're a Cancerian/Horse baby/AB-type/neo-conservatist.... don't keep on spewing those words to make you seem unique. You are unique without your label. I can tell you how unique you are from the way you talk, the way you give your opinion, your confidence, and your views about the topics in hand. You don't need to express your political stance to show you're intelligent. Because sometimes, those ideologies you kept vomiting from your mouth are only showing how unintelligent you are.
Anyways, while in that discussion about the objectification of women with my former editor back in 2008, he was then interrupted by a female co-worker, who asked him if her female friends can share a ride with him to another one of our co-worker's wedding. He asked her who the friends are and if there're pretty ones, and she showed him pictures of her friends and ask him to pick his favourites to share the ride. He grinned at me, and said, "See? Now your feministic views are all going down the drain."
Yeah, thanks, women. You guys are very 'helpful' in my cause =_=
"So, in a way, you're an individualist?"
"Don't make it a thing. It's not a thing."
The twisted tales of a Malay novelist and her repeated sins of procrastination...
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Tuesday, April 29, 2014
The thing with the -ISTS
Crap written by
Shai Kamarudin
at
1:28 PM
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Of Butterflies and Hurricanes,
Of Reminiscing and Memories
Monday, April 28, 2014
Just me and my cheesecake.
It's my birthday yesterday.
Yay me.... or something in that sense.
But unlike my birthdays every year where I spent the day at the KL International Book Fair and then went to celebrate with friends, this year I decided to just stay at home. Doesn't matter that I missed watching M.Nasir launching RAM's book at the Karangkraf Pavilion and whatnot. The peacefulness of home is better than any stars you bring to the table.
Except for Liam Neeson. For Liam Neeson, I would cross a thousand seas filled with sharks and megalodon (look it up on Google if you don't know what a megalodon is).
So, with my phone on SILENT mode, WIFI off, my birthday celebration consists of me working, watching TV (there's Jason Bateman on HBO, so that's eye candy enough), feeding my cat Mugabe, have some conversat with mum, ate the cheese cake dad bought me, fell asleep while eating cheese cake (what 'the life of a party', I am), and played Doraemon's Repair Shop game on the tab while thinking of nothing.
Then at night, our family went to have a bite at Gangnam Station. Which is in section 13, not actual Gangnam.
Pretty much nothing, you might say, but I enjoyed it. I have always been a person who likes my peace the most, so to get that on my birthday is the best thing ever. The past few weeks had been a bit hectic. With AKU KELIRU already published, I have been going to and fro Karangkraf. Then there's the other freelance work, the second trio in planning with Liza Nur and Zara Amani, and there was those bengkels by Karangkraf (though those workshops are good for me, when your life is a bit here and there, it kinda annoys you a bit that you have to sacrifice your only downtime to go to the office you have been going to for the past few weeks. Ahaha).
Then there's the Facebook thing... you know... debates after debates on peppero, on that old man who made a police report about azan and tahrim being too loud, on water crises, on hudud, on Erma Fatima and her kemban girls, about MH370, about race and religion... so many debates, so many opinions, people calling people sesat, people calling other people sundal and jalang, people saying things that made me feel like... did you really say those things just for several LIKES, LIKES that don't even count when you're dead and alone in your grave?... there were too many of them, that one day I just decided,... you know what, I am just going to stop reading the newsfeed. Shit, if not for a fact that I am not alim, have a lot of mistakes and sins of my own, and have not enough amalan baik to warrant me a piece of heaven, I would have stayed inside the cave like the Sahibul Kahfi. The cave would be awesome. The cave would be peaceful. Throw in *Daryl with me, and I am good to go.
(I want Daryl because he has a crossbow and can hunt for food, not for the other thing you disgusting monkeys are thinking about. And when I said Daryl, I mean Daryl, not Norman Reedus who plays him)
I sound like a woman with depression, don't I? Ahahahahaha.
In short, it has been 'loud', and so I decided that I would rather not do anything at all. You know how sometimes you are so overwhelmed with work and other unimportant things that you just don't give a shit but you had to give a shit just to be human, that you wanted to book a hotel room just to sit down and stare at the blank wall while eating chips?
That's what I did. I sat on the sofa, staring at the pouring rain, while eating cheese cake until I fell asleep. That was the most enjoyable thing I had done for the past few weeks.
Just me. And my cheesecake.
Yay me.... or something in that sense.
But unlike my birthdays every year where I spent the day at the KL International Book Fair and then went to celebrate with friends, this year I decided to just stay at home. Doesn't matter that I missed watching M.Nasir launching RAM's book at the Karangkraf Pavilion and whatnot. The peacefulness of home is better than any stars you bring to the table.
Except for Liam Neeson. For Liam Neeson, I would cross a thousand seas filled with sharks and megalodon (look it up on Google if you don't know what a megalodon is).
So, with my phone on SILENT mode, WIFI off, my birthday celebration consists of me working, watching TV (there's Jason Bateman on HBO, so that's eye candy enough), feeding my cat Mugabe, have some conversat with mum, ate the cheese cake dad bought me, fell asleep while eating cheese cake (what 'the life of a party', I am), and played Doraemon's Repair Shop game on the tab while thinking of nothing.
Then at night, our family went to have a bite at Gangnam Station. Which is in section 13, not actual Gangnam.
Pretty much nothing, you might say, but I enjoyed it. I have always been a person who likes my peace the most, so to get that on my birthday is the best thing ever. The past few weeks had been a bit hectic. With AKU KELIRU already published, I have been going to and fro Karangkraf. Then there's the other freelance work, the second trio in planning with Liza Nur and Zara Amani, and there was those bengkels by Karangkraf (though those workshops are good for me, when your life is a bit here and there, it kinda annoys you a bit that you have to sacrifice your only downtime to go to the office you have been going to for the past few weeks. Ahaha).
Then there's the Facebook thing... you know... debates after debates on peppero, on that old man who made a police report about azan and tahrim being too loud, on water crises, on hudud, on Erma Fatima and her kemban girls, about MH370, about race and religion... so many debates, so many opinions, people calling people sesat, people calling other people sundal and jalang, people saying things that made me feel like... did you really say those things just for several LIKES, LIKES that don't even count when you're dead and alone in your grave?... there were too many of them, that one day I just decided,... you know what, I am just going to stop reading the newsfeed. Shit, if not for a fact that I am not alim, have a lot of mistakes and sins of my own, and have not enough amalan baik to warrant me a piece of heaven, I would have stayed inside the cave like the Sahibul Kahfi. The cave would be awesome. The cave would be peaceful. Throw in *Daryl with me, and I am good to go.
(I want Daryl because he has a crossbow and can hunt for food, not for the other thing you disgusting monkeys are thinking about. And when I said Daryl, I mean Daryl, not Norman Reedus who plays him)
I sound like a woman with depression, don't I? Ahahahahaha.
In short, it has been 'loud', and so I decided that I would rather not do anything at all. You know how sometimes you are so overwhelmed with work and other unimportant things that you just don't give a shit but you had to give a shit just to be human, that you wanted to book a hotel room just to sit down and stare at the blank wall while eating chips?
That's what I did. I sat on the sofa, staring at the pouring rain, while eating cheese cake until I fell asleep. That was the most enjoyable thing I had done for the past few weeks.
Just me. And my cheesecake.
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