Vogue

The Duff has too many thoughts racing through his head now.
Hard to put into words.

And no, he still isn't gonna sing.

Speaking of song,

Madonna's new music video sucks.
Jamie Foxx's new album sucks.
Duff digs the latest few ministry of sound albums.
He's been getting Tour of Duty off the net, but hasn't had time to watch any.
His new, extra 8Gb external hard disk is full.
He thinks everyone should watch Boondocks, Family Guy, Grey's Anatomy, Rome and Reunion.
He wants everyone to go watch History of Violence.

He wants to meet up with his old friends.
He wants to make new friends.
He wants to make his good friends feel better.

He wants a white christmas.
He wants the old charm back.

He wants a new path in life.
He wants humanity to change.
He wants to heal the world.
He wants to go to space.

He wants the 90s again.
He wants the 80s again.
He wants to go to a place with no technology.
He wants to see grassy plains that stretch to the horizon.
He wants to see snow capped mountains that are within walking distance.

He wants to read more.
He wants to read more comics.
He wants to read more good comics.
He wants to read more good, life-altering comics.
He wants to make comics.

He wants a life.

Impulse

Today, The Duff pierced his ear.

Take out your machetes

It had been a tumultuous 2 weeks for the Duff.

It started out with him realising that even with his very marketable skills in the slave industry, he was soon to be out of a slave job. It was no shock. In fact, it gave him impetus to take a step towards the next stage of his short life. More on that later.

When he found out that he was to be let go soon enough, his slave master started looking out for another back-breaking position for him to fill within the same slave house, as the slave masters recognised his ingenuity and slave-drive. There were 3 positions opened to him. The ideal one was quickly filled by someone fresh from a local slave training camp. The other 2 positions, while not so ideal, afforded him a stable pittance. One was a job in another corner of the slave house, with a bastard for a slave master. The Duff would have been learning much, and although very menial work, was more interesting than the other post. That one encompassed him doing the same nonsense he has had his nose in all year, but for another slave room. Also with a slave master who was old and bitchy. There he would not have learnt anything, and even had to do things against his mild mannered nature, like down grog with people he didn't like, and yet had to smile at.

Not much of a choice, but as a contingency, he chose the 2nd post. Learning new stuff would at least take some of the dreariness off his mind.

This past weekend, during his short stint away from the slave house, The Duff went for a course that taught him skills in another industry. While it offered no regular pittance, and no career, it was an industry that caught his attention since he was but a lad. The volatility and liquidity lit a sparkle in his eyes. He is now determined, more than ever, to run away from the slave house and toil in this new endeavour, much as it would break his family's hearts.

It will be an uphill battle. It would be a David and Goliath epic. The Duff may crash and burn spectacularly like the Hindenburg. He may stand and face the elements like the Great Wall.

The Truth is yet to come. And yet he is his Truth. The Paradoxical cycle turns a revolution once more.

Path of No Resistance

The Duff has finally discovered the reason for his mental drought and resulting absence here.

It has been long known that humankind thrives on misery. That's why poets and singers emerge from war torn countries, painters from poor backgrounds, out of this world theories from sleep-ravaged minds of exam-stressed students(donaq.blogspot.com), and conversely rich, fat ass brats are empty hulls.

The Duff has been lazing for the past 3 weeks, enjoying life at its best, eating, sleeping, chit-chatting with his old platoon mates while in reservist camp. Not only that, the week after his release, it was a week spattered with holidays, therefore prolonging his tenure away from the slave camp.

He just went back today. And he put in a solid piece of effort into his work. And all these thoughts assailed his feeble mind. Hence this post.

That is the Truth.

Reality Bites

The Duff is back. From the Edge.

No, not U2's The Edge. the Edge. The less significant one.

The Duff caught another episode of Late Night with Conan O'Brien. And it was a spectacular episode entirely devoted to U2. The band was so cool to grace this second tier show (amongst last night talk shows in America for those not in the know). The nerdy host was so enthralled by it all. As was the Duff. The usual guest list is something like, an A-list star, then a b-list star, then a musical act. So imagine an entire episode with just U2. That's quite something.

Now for those with absolutely no idea what The Duff is talking about, please go check out these cool shows that are readily available online. There's a reason for technological marvels like that grey or black box close to you called the computer, and that little blue or grey box also close by with blinking lights called the modem, and this funny other world that these 2 boxes are connected to called the internet.

Did you know there's an entire world out there beyond your stupid little realm of existence? An amazing variety of experiences are just there waiting to swamp over your tiny ego and emancipate your soul. These journeys will squash you, devolve you into a foetal mentality, then let you embrace a higher calling known as religion.

Thank goodness all the Duff found were talk shows and menial tv serieses(what the heck is the plural for series? Serious?!)

Truth of the day, after coming back from the Edge(the less significant one), is that there is a world out there for you to pillage. Please do so now.

Aye aye, Captain! Into the Edge, 30 degrees to 6000 feet.
Dive! Dive! Dive!

Move along, nothing to see here. Move along...move along.....Come on, move it! What are you still doing here? See that button on the top right corner? Next blog, move it....



Sod off you voyeuristic swines! There is a whole cesspit out there in the World Wide Web, so what the heck are you bypassing this sorry little shit for?





Jaysus, you're still here?

HTF.....? #1

HTF do you get Teflon to stick to the pan?

Nothing

So nothing has been going on in The Duff's life. Same old boring stuff, repetitive and dull. Never had the impetus to blog. He was just trudging on through life.

The Duff thinks that this is the case because there is no challenge in his life, and its too smooth, too good. Challenge and pitfalls produces creativity, and if he has nothing to say, nothing bad has been happening to him then.

And thus perhaps with that in his subconscious, he just depressed himself today.

He was down, irritable, cranky, obnoxious, and overall a prick to be around with.

Only one thing piqued his interest slightly. It was a documentary named "Without Borders" from the National Geographic channel. It followed a boy named Mir in Afghanistan. In a district named Bamiyan. Living in a cave. It is a harsh place which used to have the tallest Buddha statues for 1600 years. The Taliban had blown them up recently when the americans invaded.

The videography was excellent and the protagonist was utterly charming. He was skinny, to the point of being malnourished. But he was happy. He knew of nothing else that would make him realise his predicament is full of hardships.

There was a point where Mir's father was lamenting how Londoners have it good, with television, food, clothes, shoes, huge houses, etc and how Mir has no concept of such luxuries. The camera panned to Mir and he was smiling his usual smile, cheerful as always. Then he said,"I am going to run away."

That cracked the Duff up.

;->

Now that's the Truth.

Chapter 4

"It has been a long time, Old Man. I remember not liking the sensations," he said to his companion. He was dreading the experience that was impending.

"You need not like it. Just do it. Think of the people. Of both worlds. Just put your head down and walk through the portal," came the retort. It was true. Much was at stake. But the fact that the prize might be in the Order's hands, and that he will be the one to wield it, was pumping his heart with an adrenaline rush.

They came to the portal. He still could not believe, after all these years, that such a symbol of mysticism in this dimension was hidden in such plain sight. It stank of the wastes of animals. "Funny how shit smells the same everywhere," he thought to himself.

"Let's get this over with."

They both walked into the sewer pipe under the New Jersey turnpike.

____________________________________________________________________________________

They emerged in darkness. Quietly, they slipped out of the baobab tree that housed the other end of the portal. Stephen Hawkings would have been proud. His theories were true after all. As they pushed apart the curtain of leaves that hid the huge split on one side of the trunk, huge spears emerged from the corners of their eyes and ended close to their throats.

"Your pathetic daughter was no challenge to our skilled interrogators, you wretched fool. Your mission was doomed from the start, once we knew that you only had this path to return to this kingdom. She told us everything we wanted to know. Most of the rubbish we had already known anyway." He spoke with as much authority as he could muster. He had to hide the fact that she killed 3 guards and 2 interrogators before they managed to pin her down and get the smallest amount of information from her. The 10 long days in between were the worst days of his life. His master was an impatient man.

"Your fear betrays you, Mordred. And you were lucky. The 10th day was his limit."

Mordred was furious. The veins in his forehead almost erupted. "Drag them away to the dungeons! And send a runner for the Master at once!" His minions moved in and dragged the prisoners away.

"Ah....Its good to be back, Old Man. Thanks a lot!"

Merlin turned his head minutely, and grinned.

Aw heavenly pungent fecal matter, the sky is gloomy!

The Duff had just turned his head to see a foreboding sky beckoning. This will really ruin all his best laid plans, and we all know how those turn out. Blame it on the rain he says.

The reason he is so upset is because he has invited some friends over for a party on this public holoiday to celebrate his country's birthday. And to just get together to get an update on each other before they go their separate ways and gossip behind each other's backs.

Pricks of a feather.....

The Duff returned home last night at the new dawn. He has been at a session of mahjong at the request of his slave masters. He said no but secretly the inner gambling demon awoke from its long stupor and began his war chant.

The Duff lost $54 dineros. He was up though, his ego kept reminding him later.

However, it was some good clean fun. Laughs and elbows to the ribs. Ranks dissipated and the conversations were not as controlled as he usually experiences them with that particular set of company.

The Duff was thinking the other day (another rare occasion). There is a rage currently in his social circles, of changing work ethics. The rage is to have an additional source or sources of income, to supplement whatever slave pittance a particular slave might be receiving. There are many courses to teach anyone and everyone on how to be an entrepreneur, or to trade stock options and the like. Everyone is getting onto that bandwagon.

However, The Duff believes that such intelligent and dynamic environments are too much of a challenge for the robotic slavers being churned out from the slave training camps. Their minds are simply not adequately equipped with......societal skills, much less business acumen. What the smart guys are doing instead are starting all these courses, getting genuinely good ideas and doing them, making these slavers do the guinea-pigging and then gobbling up their so-called accomplishments when they fail.

There could be another smart bunch who instead strive at the slave camps, kill or step over the robotic slaves on the way to the top(because all good robotic slaves love to just do the work and not take the responsibility, thereby staying at their respective glass ceilings) and then gobble these guinea-piglets to make everybody in the slave camp look good, the slave master most of all?

Food for thought. Your Truths?

The Duff has been coming home to a welcome sight recently. There has been a bird, a small one like a humming-bird, which perches itself on a branch at his porch. It'd be there every night, sleeping, breathing, dreaming. At first, The Duff's gal thought it was a fake, eventhough The Duff told her otherwise. In the mornings, it would fly away to get that fateful worm. But every night, it returns. To the same spot. And dream the same dream.

Another welcome sight had been his gal, who had been working hard on a project but doing it at his place. For more than a week, she was practically living in his room, working so hard to meet oncoming deadlines and changes from the client. But having her there was good enough for him. A smile was always at the edges of his lips. If she was to do the project from home, The Duff would have had to go to her castle at the end of each back breaking slave day just to see her hunched over her laptop. Still nice, but just not as much.

Is all the slaving in the world really worth the pain and the suffering? Shouldn't work be enjoyable? To be cherish and appreciated for the challenges it brings? It should cater to one's needs and desires, and not the other way around. When did everybody learn to compromise, and worse still to accept it as part and parcel of all things?

Should each and everyone of the human race yearn and stretch to an ideal?

This has been another thought deluge. The Truth is within you. The Duff wants it.

Mis-happenings

The Duff seems to be in a glut of misfortune. Like a hole in the ground, the shit just keeps piling up.

It all started on Saturday night, when the Duff fell asleep on his arm just for a while. He awoke to find his entire right arm numb. Even in the next morning, his two middle fingers on the right were non functional. He felt spastic. He couldn't use the mouse nor the keyboard with his usal finesse. Thankfully he could navigate with his left hand on the mouse. A quirk he had forced himself to take up some time back just for shit happens just like this.

Monday afternoon saw his entire right lap engulfed in hot soup during lunch. Thankfully he was sitting at an angle to the table, else it'd be Hasta La' Byebye to his family jewels. The lady who was serving him and who spilled the hot soup was less than apologetic, and kept up with some stupid comments that it's his lucky day and he should go buy the lottery. He retorted sarcastically that she should get it for him, or else he wouldn't be that lucky to strike it, but of course such intellectual exchange was lost on the simple minded specimen.

On Wednesday, he got back some control of his 2 middle fingers. Giving the finger was still out of the question however. That was a crippling effect that made him panic for awhile, much as the terror that a president of a bigoted country would have if he couldn't give the thumbs up.

Thursday saw his colleague engulf her mobile phone with her soya bean drink as the thin walled plastic cup holding the liquid exploded before his very eyes as she was trying to put back the cover. She lifted the phone to eye level, with the white stuff still dripping off it and she gasped, leaving her mouth open. Quite an image.

Ah.....Hormones......

It totally didn't help that a million drivers were trying to kill The Duff on the roads by attempting to smash into his car during the course of the week. Bloody idiots were like a swarm of moths being attracted to his flaming set of wheels. The counter on his curses went through the roof. Guess the person keeping score up in heaven must have been amused somewhat by this. piling on the negative points.

Speaking of swarms, the infestation of moths earlier in the year has translated into a swarm of caterpillar offspring in his house. The worst thing is that his maid has an uncontrollable fear of them. She freaks out and pesters him relentlessly. He wants to kill her.

The Duff caught the Island this week. Scarlett Johansson is da bomb! He knew she was jude to the core, but sometimes, nothing reminds one of such an undeniable fact more than a white lycra suit over a bodacious blonde.

The show was pretty watchable though. Lots of running, and futuretech. He loved the hover
jet-skis.

The slaving continues at a snail's pace. The Duff has his mid-year performance review with his slave master, and he was told that he needed to be more sociable, more visible, in the slave camp, and that he has a pretty good chance of being a permanent slave. While heartening to know that his slaving over the past few months has been satisfactory, and that he might have a dependable slave pittance in the near future, with slave perks, he is unsure whether that is the path he wants to take. He might just want to have his freeedom. He is thus torn between pushing harder at the slave camp, or to try harder to seek alternatives.

Truth of the week? The world is full of idiots, blondes are great to look at, slaving is shit, and that no one wants to share any truths with him.

Selfish bastards.

Where has all the time gone?

The Duff missed the blogosphere.

2 weeks gone. Once again The Duff has screwed up all his time management. Too many things occuring in his life. He has forsaken his pool, and various other social activities that he tries to partake in on a periodic basis.

For starters, he's been slaving his ass off(not literally of course). Many slave projects have been thrown at his slavery way. And he has slavenly scooped up all the slavery goodness of the slavery tasks. Such slavery slavenness should be slavishly sodomised.

Anyway, he's been assigned various projects recently which would have definitely raised his profile. As such, the MD thinks he is suitable for a perm post all too soon. While this news was certainly heartening to himself, he thinks that post would suck big time in the near future, since by the time he's there, another slave(who thinks he's adding much value to the company, "urgh") would be his boss. And that would be a majorly screwed up scenario to be in.
Also, The Duff doesn't want to be in too cushy a position in the slave camp. This would deter him from his escape plans.

The Duff's parents returned from the land far beyond this past week. Everytime they come back, the Duff's plans with his friends are always put on hold to accommodate their presence. It has become routine that even his friends know that he'd be unavailable and soon forget about him. Works both ways. However, its when he has friends who are less familiar with his predicament who would make some noise and shit. "Screw it," he says. Prioritise.

The world is still an ugly place. Recent developments in the local charity scene has been the talk of the town. How utterly boring that the main public is so slow to catch on bullshit that is squarely there in their face, and even force fed into their numbskulls ever so often by stunts performed by psuedo-celebrities. The Duff was much the wiser years hence. Such a braggart, and yet so wise. The world can be fair sometimes.

4 more booms in london. such a shame. terrorists are such pussies.

The Duff is over-spending. He is seriously worried about this. And his main vice, comics.

Now this is a horrible situation, as its one of his main de-stressing avenues, yet it is so costly to upkeep. Spending almost 400 bucks a month is way too much. While this might be aggravated by his little brother's penchant to demand and get his comics as well, he still thinks he should cut down. But to compromise on his own bliss, he finds it hard to do so. Everyone should have his own bliss. Compromise is such a dirty word.

The Duff's little bro just had his birthday. He is only 15 and he is almost the same size as Duff if not more so. The modern diet is really a powerful growth bitch. Must be all the steroids. The Duff really must restart his weights routine. But perhaps after he gets his new room done. Had to fix his bed and rework all his furniture. Excellent. He is now bonafidely Ikea-ed.

Ikano GO!

The Duff believes its all about how you spend your time. Plan it wisely, stick to your plans to a certain point, but give yourselves moments when spontaneity occurs. Those are the eternities between the seconds when life has more meaning.

This coming from The Duff, who has every clock available to him set 10 minutes ahead so that whenever he is in a rush, he forgets to backtrack and rushes himself more, believing he is 1o minutes later than he really is. Stupid. Yet effective. Especially when he remembers that he set them in advance. Its almost like finding time, just like loose change in a pocket. Always a pleasant surprise.

Death and Destruction

The Duff has lost half of his Saturday to the Sandman. He's pissed.

Speaking of Sandman, Neil Gaiman came into his town this past week. Hordes of fans queued up for his autographs at the local Border's and Kinokuniya. For those not in the know, he is the author of the well known graphic novel series The Sandman and Marvel's 1602, as well as various other novels like Mirrormask and Neverwhere. Mostly fantasy stuff. The real kind that just grabs The Duff and dumps him in another dimension. But sometimes, he hates it. When it gets too ethereal. Too subtle. And his barbaric brain fails to process or understand the profound meanings behind the words and images.

Maybe he's just stupid.

War of the Worlds was an extremely good show. The Duff caught it on Wednesday. The sudden violence and random death was a welcome jolt to an otherwise lacklustre week at the slave camp. Once again, Spielberg proves to be a master of emotional sci-fi. The Duff thinks its actually quite a simple formula. Normal workday leads to sudden action and death from nowhere, leading to desperation, leading to more action, leading to quarrels, leading to action, leading to hugs, leading to more action, leading to more hugs and kisses, leading to final action scene and ending in redemption.

Another oscar in the bag. Even if it was bypassed by the large categories, some technical awards will always be given to the movie. And there's always the MTV Movie awards. Just as long as its not the Razzies The Duff says.

So the Duff was ending his Thursday slave day when his Maternal point of origin sends him a short message service over the ether, to inform him that London has been attacked by some sinister force, most probably human. A quick search on CNN.com lead him to some initial articles the contributors had put online, attributing to some incidents in the London underground and a bomb blast in a london bus that had caused it to be a mushroom in an instant. They had attributed the incidents in the underground as electrical of origin. But I could never see how that would cause people to come up to ground level covered in blood, and not necessarily theirs.

The HORROR, The HORROR!

Apparently it was by terrorists opposing the G8 summit. But it also came after the IOC voted for London as the host of the 2012 olympics. Double Whammy.

The Duff thinks that was quite a bit of blood for the week. And it had only been over a 2 day period, and half of the blood was a ketchup mixture of sorts, but still. Society can only numb itself as a form of self defence.

Truth of the week, blood sucks. And see how the Londoners handle it. Much better than the pussy Americans. The British are actually used to this sort of violence. They had lived through it for decades battling the Irish.

What were your truths these past week? let the Duff know.

13 days later

So, the Duff is back once again, after a 13 day absence. Well, for that, this blog shall have 13 paragraphs.

That was 1.

Above was 2.

All right. The Duff was involved in some highly secretive exercises at work. While divulging this would be tantamount to screwing himself up the arse, he would just like to say that while it was a serious situation, the exercise itself was as futile as digging one's ears with a fork. Painful and useless. But, The Duff thinks it was good to be out of the office. For too much sitting would only lead to a highly gravitated ass.

The Duff caught some movies inbetween these 13 days. He caught Batman Begins the other week. Excellent comic book movie, or just a movie by itself(without the 70 year baggage of continuity, forgetting the Crisis of the inifinite Earths reset). Did you know that Batman once used a gun? This eventhough his parents were gunned down before his very young eyes?! Yesiree BOB!

Is Batman still gay?

6. Halfway there.

Just last night The Duff caught Initial D. Yes he did. In spite of all the prejudice that the entire society places on him for his ineffectual use of his mother tongue, he still likes to watch the occasional asian production of very well executed cinematic techniques. While the acting left much to be desired, the effects were cool and the story not all that bad. Put in a young nubile wide-eyed actress and it all fits for The Duff as a weekend popcorn entertainment. No doubt the $9.50 price tag was steep, but what the heck.

He had supper version 1 at outram; fish porridge with raw fish and frog legs as side dishes. Indulgence was satisfying. Conversation was flowing. Goodwill was all around. The Duff got fatter. No biggie. Not yet anyhow.

He then had supper version 2 at the macdonalds at east coast park. Fries and a coke. A world apart, but no less satisfying. A different group, a different conversation. But fun likewise. The Duff wishes to thank those who were present, and who tolerated his madness in staying up so late. He only got home at 5.30am. He had been awake a full 24hrs.

3 More.Time to close. He notices that grammar and normal sentence punctuation has left the building with Elvis.

So, Truths for the last 13 days? Its a hard world out there. money is but a tool. passion is important in life. women are the devil. married men can be bitches. pool on slanted tables are fun. and macdonalds make piss ass coffee. which are of course, free-flow.

What were your truths these last few months? time for a mid year review of your life. contemplate and relate. educate. disseminate. This has been a Duff mental puke. Peace out.

Duff is duff

The Duff is back, and apparently, hardly missed. He's been pissed with himself for letting this avenue of expression barren and at the mercy of the weather.

The Duff is back!

Has he been busy? No. A game of badminton, an afternoon of sun tanning, a movie, 3 weeks of work, and a chicken later, he is no different from the last posting.

Yes, a chicken. And it was trying to cross the road. Made The Duff's day.

Mr and Mrs Smith had some heavy boobular action. Angelina is overly babelicious, as in too painful to look at cos she's too much of a good thing, or a few things in this case. Brad Pitt does his weird eccentric bit once again. Can't see how he can keep it up.

The Duff has been messing around with simulated stock investing. He sucks at it. Playing around with pure guesswork, it reminded him of his parents' folly in real life. He shall have to tread carefully when the real thing comes about.

Work is getting boring as things clear up. What's left is a skeleton of tasks that hold little meaning to him. A lack of focus has arisen in his life. A cloud of blurring, a fog of unconsciousness. An immediate goal is lost in the horizon. He has to find it soon.

The Duff wrote a short script for an artist in Australia to illustrate. It has been 2 weekends, and no reply. Was it too short? Was it too lousy? The Duff deliberates but stops short of overwhelming self doubt. Screwit if need be. Personal tastes are just such, personal.

The Duff has also started on a book. A silly little project that his girlfriend had sown in his cerebral prairie. He plans to finish it within 2 months. Let's wait and be disappointed. Himself most of all. Starting with defeat? Almost sounds like a business plan.

He has started working out again. Albeit still as infrequent as before, its still better than none. His sloth has created a body of unapologetic fats. The constant pints of ice-cream, caseloads of carbonated sustenance and ever re-appearing snacks on his table do not help also. His proverbial 6-pack seems as unattainable as Michael Jackson's innocence.

How about the Truth? The Duff, in his everlasting map-less life, seems even more clueless than ever. Is the world really as chaotic and unchartered as it seems? When events occur, why do humans love to fit it into a so-called plan that they think is written out there, somewhere?

Where is the Truth? What is the Truth? Does it exist? Does it matter?

Life and New Experiences

The Duff has been exhausted by affairs of the family and the workplace. He truly was wiped out for the longest time, and couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thank goodness for those fireflies.

The Duff had been getting into some new experiences lately. He had finally come to the conclusion that slaving is a bad thing. The workplace has been a dungheap of bullshit. He truly wants out. If he has the balls.

The Duff went for a concert the other night, having been given free tickets. It was an hour of spectacular dance. Music and lighting came together to accentuate a dozen dancers of unbelievable skill and endurance. All the elements came together to give him an experience like no other.

He fell asleep.

It might have been the lack of sleep the previous night, or the $5 cheeseburger he had before the concert filling his tummy and drawing blood away from his brain.

He enjoyed the performance though. Sad as it may be that he fell asleep, he really enjoyed the parts when his mind was lucid.

A meetup with his closest friends gave him the impetus to once again explore other avenues in life beyond slaving. A lunch with an old boss also gave him the urge to spice up his life further by attending a scuba diving course. Stayed tuned to see if he follows through on this. History gives small statistics of that happening.

His family is once again apart, as it has been for the last decade or so. While The Duff is saddened with this, it also allows him to continue his decadent lifestyle, without his parents' interference. Its a fine line to walk, and he is stumbling along it.

The Duff has also decided to follow once of his passions in life, which is to put down tales onto print media. Comics and novels, short stories and blogs, once again, stay tuned.

The Truth continues to elude The Duff. Every step he takes towards it, matters of sorts will push him back by 2 steps. Its only a matter of time before he lunges ahead, or plunge down the cliff face he crawled out from.

Perhaps yours Truths will save him. Please give him your comments.

End of another Era

The Duff has closed another chapter in his life this week.

He is leaving some of his nerdiness behind, to be left forgotten in his youth. For this week, 2 events had come to pass. Firstly was the last episode of Star Trek: Enterprise. He watched it, the final. The finale. Its all over. No more Star Trek in the forseeable future. While some may find this franchise utterly boring, The Duff secretly yearns for such a future to be made possible, simply because the simple worries of humanity are but a thing of the past in the stories. Humanity has moved on to much better things. Exploration, and knowing that there is a great unknown attracted The Duff immensely. He had found our current situation boring instead. The entire globe has been mapped to death, and governments stumble into space at a snail's pace.

The other event was Episode III of the Star Wars franchise. The story is complete. Anakin falls, to be redeemed by his son years later. The circle started 28 years ago is final done. This simple story, adapted from many sources into a space opera, has withstood the test of time, and patience of many, to present a story not fully fresh, but in a well presented package. The expert marketing done by Lucasfilms are second to none. The Duff applauds their efforts, and thanks them for such an overwhelming experience dragged over 2 plus decades. The Duff wonders what the nerds will do now.

And thus, The Duff ends his sci-fi nerddom. The genre is dead.

A long weekend is almost over. Mostly preoccupied by The Duff's parents. Which means a lot of eating, and The Duff will be putting on some extra pounds as usual. Sit-ups to ensue asap.

The Duff's favourite comic book author, Warren Ellis, has released a new series. Titled Desolation Jones, its about an ex-spy, who had an issue with alcohol, was thrown out of his agency, but enrolled into an experiment that made his impervious to pain, sleep and many other talents yet to be revealed. The setting is in Los Angeles, where all ex-spy personnel in the world retire in. Cool.

Many good comics coming over the next few months. Guess The Duff will never outgrow his comic nerddom.

That's the truth. What are your truths?

Chapter 3

She tiptoed along the ledge, cautious not to slip and plunge to a watery grave. The castle was well situated, atop a knoll that was surrounded by the seas during high tides. It wasn't easy getting to where she was. The lions and guards were simple enough to evade, but the crocodiles and eagles were something else. She knew the lord of the castle had a way with animals, but nothing prepared her for the menagerie that she had encountered, and dealt with swiftly, silently.

At last, she found the room she had been looking for. The highest point of the castle, overlooking all around the land. You could see your enemies approaching from half a day's march away. Ample time to prepare. If you knew what your enemy looked like.

The Artifact was nestled where the Old Man said it would be. It almost seemed all too easy. She thanked the gods for watching over her on this simple yet dangerous quest. She was the only one qualified enough to take up this venture. The Order knew this painfully, as others sent before her had not returned.

She knew the import of this quest, and to not take it lightly. It could well tip the balance of the war to their side. The glory will be overwhelming. She might be promoted, to stand along with the Gifted One. Ah, the Gifted One. How she had missed him. How she longed for his gaze to set upon her once more. She knew as she set off on this quest that so too was the Old Man, in search of the Gifted One. When he returns, if he returns, and with this Artifact in his hands, the war would be as good as over. Finally, after the decades of strife, peace could once more grace the kingdom.

She heard the shard slicing through the air. "Too late," she thought to herself. She had let her wishful thinking delude her of her situation. She was in the direst peril. After all, she was in the enemy's lair.

She felt her skin tear, and fibres in her shoulder splitting as the shard made its way through her conditioned body. The pain shot to her spine like lightning. She stifled the scream that almost escaped from her lips. She spun and tumbled to the wooden floor. Blood erupted in front of her as the shard peeked its head back out into the air. The thick crimson liquid dripping from its tip. She heard the laughter and the rejoicing approach with an orange flame as the door swung open. Another character appeared from the corner, hidden the anubian shadows.

"They sent a wretch! The guile of those fools. To think that a mere bitch could steal the prize from us. I will enjoy making you suffer the err of your Order's foolishness."

She tried to appear strong, but the fear overtook her once she saw their scaly bodies bathed in the orange glow. Their once human eyes sparkled as the flame danced in its position. And slowly, the flame made everything blur into oblivion as she passed out.

humidity sucks

So The Duff had his futsal tournament today. Went through to the quarter finals. Improvement from last year. Still, The Duff wasn't all too happy. Guess losing sucks, no matter what. A small consolation was taken when eventually the teams that The Duff lost to were the top 2 teams of the tourney. They were class acts, and a cut above the rest.

The Duff's younger brother is having his exams this week. The lazy bugger thinks he's so good at his various subjects. The Duff can't wait to get his results, and hopefully need not kick the little tyke's ass.

Mother's Day. Or is it Mothers' Day? Anyway, once again, it is sad that western civilization requires a specific Sunday to show extra appreciation to their mothers. Mothers should be cherished all year round, and loved in a sense like no other.

Are sons closer to mothers than daughters? Are daughters closer to fathers than sons? The Duff knows it is subjective, but he would like to know the statistics. He believes there has to be a trend to it. Human relationships are predictable after all. For example, a man and a woman out by themselves in a platonic relationship, for a whole afternoon by the beach? Hard to believe, and some just delude themselves into thinking so. Given different circumstances, these two would definitely get together. Dumbasses.

The Duff has been getting some low-level hands on training with regards to his slave labour. Note that low-level does not equate to easy. Each job has its own difficulties and challenges. Context and subjectivity blah blah blah......

An Ex-President passed away this week. The Duff was saddened, for eventhough in his youth he had made fun of this president's name (along with a brand of sauce), he always felt that this man was a classy guy. He had an air of nobility, and with such caring, soulful eyes and features. His passing even made a senior political pillar, who is commonly known for his stoic presence, break down.

Such are the truths of the world. We are human after all, each and every one of us.

The Duff has spoken. Now its your turn.

The Hills are Alive

As frightening as the title may have been, a simple tune has made it into one of the most recognised melodic words in recent history. The Sound of Music phenomenon is truly quite outstanding.

The reason this has come up is that The Duff had gone to watch the musical version of this movie classic on Thursday night. A birthday treat from his girlfriend. He thoroughly enjoyed the evening, eventhough he feels that the movie version was better somehow. Maybe it was just Julie Andrews.

It actually is a true story. The Von Trapp family escaping into the States during WWII. Of course it was made easier being that they were not poor Jews, but nevertheless, the creators of the musical and movie made the tale that much more emotionally involving. A few creative aspects were added, like making the eldest child a girl, and giving us the lovey dovey song "16 going on 17".

They eventually started a music school in America. I cannot imagine what it must've been like to be a student in such an environment. To be surrounded by such talent. But then again, The Duff wonders just how talented the whole family really was. Cynicism is such a party pooper.

The Duff hasn't read any new comics in quite a while. He misses the escapism tremendously. He has been on this Earth for too long. He longs for the fantasy and the unreality. Does this mean he is less rooted? Does this mean he is aloof, and less ambitious to get ahead in life, to have the finer things?

The Duff thinks not. Life is a balancing act, and he thinks we should all really just learn to have fun when we can, even when misery is perpetually following us. For really, life is too short. We have all heard that before, but do we really do anything to seize the day?

So chase that dream, marry that girl, start that company, paint that image, buy that handbag, go for that holiday, squash that bug, test drive that car, get his number, watch that movie, help the poor, .............................Just Do It.

Share your truths. Its within you.

Lessons

The Duff has just returned from a finance course. He is mentally drained, yet curiously satisfied in having learnt and experienced much, from the course material and his coursemates as well. Life is good for him. He wonders when it'll start tumbling down. He has been on an upturn for quite a while now.

During the course, his usual ADD brain kept wandering away from the topics, or blacking out into oblivion, for as usual his cerebral cortex was lacking a few dozen hours of sleep recharge logging. If sleep came in a pill, he'd be popping them by the hour.

Financial terms and going-ons (goings-on?) had been a puzzle to him, but like a magic jigsaw that solves itself, some gaps in his company's structure has come to light. Group work was interesting for he interacted with colleagues (in a loose sense) from other countries. Friendliness and cooperation were the rules of the day, and effort prevailed to produce good work from some humble folks.

Accomodation was in a hotel, with very good service and facilities. The room was clean and comfortable. All in all a wonderful experience.

The Duff pumped V-power fuel into his chariot today. He has used 98 for his last tank and had noticed increased mileage. He has decided to continue with the test for an even higher grade of petrol. Of course, this all depends too on his method of usage. Hard acceleration and exorbitant speeds all could eat into the better mileage claims on the posters. Time will tell.

For now, share your truths. The Duff awaits you, for you are the Truths of the world.

Peace out.

Cahos Toehry

The Duff spent zero dollars today. As in no cash from his wallet was reacquainted with another's sticky paws.

But in another sense, he has spent hundreds. He drove his car, he paid for his car. He has a home. He used water. He used electricity. Such waste. Such Decadence. Rots the soul.

He went for a Defensive Driving Course today. Supposed costs for each participant was around 200 bucks. He went through slaloms, emergency brakes with ABS and without, screeching and skidding over dry and wet surfaces. He even drove towards a live instructor at 70kmh before swerving away. Nerve racking it was. The Duff wonders how much the instructor's insurance premiums cost, if he has any anyways.

The Duff had 3 chunks of ham, 1 and a half slabs of steak and half an English sausage for dinner on his birthday. He didn't really eat anything the next day.

Maybe it was because the ugly English royalty decided to have a joyous affair on The Duff's birthday. Bad enough he had to share it with his sibling.

The Duff thinks Sin City the Movie rocks.

The Duff went to Malaysia last night, just for a Coffee. Without his passport. He went into the railway station along Keppel.

Verbal Diarrhoea on a Monday. Accepted in most developed countries.

Earthquakes again. Has our time really come? The news over the radio had a Minister insisting that Singaporeans are safe from Earthquakes. Just because some idiots felt the ground shake, they are scared shitless. Pussies.

If only an earthquake hit Singapore. It would be the only earth-shattering event in modern history here.

Truth of the Day. The triangle of survivability. In case an earthquake strikes, do not hide under tables, or below beds, but rather curl up just beside them. Rationalize this. The Truth is within you. Live and Learn.

My mental sphincter shall now become operational.

Ancient History

26 years ago today, a young and lovely lady was carrying a cake to her son's kindergarten. It was his birthday. He was 6. The appearance of his mother made his day, as well as the many kisses he received from his class mates.

The lady was also carrying other things, namely a handbag, another bag with clothes, and a foetus in her womb.

As she put down the cake on a table in her son's class, she felt a huge kick and started feeling contractions. She stayed on through till her son blew out the candles before excusing herself from the scene, rushing to the hospital. She registered herself in, and made sure the nurse informed her husband of the impending arrival of their second child.

As she lay on the hospital bed, waiting for the next contraction, she thought to herself,"Damn stupid baby. Had to be early. Had to be on the same day as the other kid. Which is kinda cool, but, what the??? Oh, here comes the next one. Ooouuuccchhh!"

A few hours later, the doctor held the slippery baby by the legs and bitch-slapped his ass. He started crying, and cheers went around the delivery room. The husband smiled, and held his wife's hands. Both were very happy. Nothing could go wrong in their lives at that moment.

The doctor faced the couple and offered his congratulations. A nurse approached him and stretched out her arms to take the babe. The doctor absentmindedly handed the baby over before she got to him. The baby fell to the ground and landed harshly with a "DUFF"

Death is but a moment away.

The Duff almost died today.

It wasn't bad enough that he had a swollen ankle and a stiff back. After a hard day's worth of slog, he got into his chariot, and away he rode, down the concrete roads that maze around the kingdom. All too soon he had bounced unto the straight country road, and he got into the "fastest" right lane, keep in mind that it was rush hour. The speed was sleepishly hypnotic.

And with his eyes ahead, at the tail of the chariot was his focus total. Yet, with just a blink, the chariot ahead suddenly seemed much closer. The Duff slammed on his brakes, and skidded. He could feel the shudder of the machine and the roughness of the granite on his pedal. He had thought that his chariot's bodyworks had hit the ground.

He stopped just in time. He trace the dust patterns on the number plate in front of him onto his windscreen. That was how close he got.

In a daze, the journey continued, uneventfully. The teachings on Sun Tzu on his MP3 player did not alleviate his lethargy. He was glad to reach his destination, his spirit totally spent.

The Truth he learnt today, was that Death is but a moment away. All the devil had to do was to complete the swing of his scythe, instead of pulling back as he did, however out of character that may have been. Its times like these when The Duff believes that everything happens for a reason, and that sometimes humans may just be part of some grand design.

Carpe Diem!

2678400 seconds later

The Duff™ is back.

So the Duff had some time off. Laziness took hold over his being for an entire month. He uses Opera as his default browser, but this disallows him to post blogs through it, and he has to use the Devil's browser (IE) to blog. Probably some problem with his cookie settings.

Too many things to recall over the past month to state back here. The Duff would rather state what is now.

The Pope is dead. Another earthquake hit. A lady is slowly dying in the US from malnutrition. The Duff's ankle is busted. Star Wars M&Ms are for sale. The end of Science Fiction is nigh. The Duff wants to get out of the rat race. Sin City debuted at number 1 in the US box office. Comics are expensive. Movie tickets are rising in prices as well. Weights are heavy, water is wet and air is polluted.

The world is going to hell.

But the Truth is out there. Within you. Enlighten the Duff. He is bored. Lift this cloud that lingers over humanity. Do the right thing.

The Duff is outta here. More to come later.

Rhyme Thyme 1

The Duff painted his gate.
Yup you got that right.
He painted it late,
in the middle of the night.

He painted it black,
over the whites.
He did not slack,
after dinner bites.

His father forced him,
in a subtle way.
He just started painting,
in his seat The Duff couldn't stay.

So his arms are now spotty,
with thick black paint.
It actually looks quite gory,
like his skin is nothing but taint.

Give it a day he thinks,
it should all come off.
If not he'd rub it pink,
with something that is rough.

CAR

The Duff has his car. His own car. His own piece of transportational excellence. His very own slice of motoring excitement. His one and only spot of mercurial travel equipment. Alas, it has arrived.

For 2 whole dreary months, The Duff had awaited the arrival of his carriage. For 2 months, he went through nail biting anxiety while he awaited the arrival of his carriage. For 2 months, he waited.

The wait is now over.

But, he has limitations. He cannot rev the engine beyond 3000rpms. Or go above 100km/h. He cannot jam on the brakes nor swerve too harshly. In fact, he is supposed to treat the workhorse like a metallic virgin.

However, he has flaunted all the above rules. His workhorse shall not be spoilt. Much like his previous 4 wheels, this one will be treated to the utmost toughest regiment of mechanical gruel.

To him, machines are tools to be used, not to be fussed over.

The Duff will simply not stand for pussy cars. That is his truth. Is it yours?

Redemption

Carrying his case, he enters the casino resort through the front door. Along the carpet he strolls in between the slot machines and makes his way through the crowd. Surrounded by people losing all their money to the casino while hanging onto their hopes, he shakes his head and smirks. He sees a family with 2 little girls laughingly enjoying their holiday. They remind him immediately of his own family. Or rather, what was his, but is now lost.

All was fine before the casino came to Sentosa. He had a good job, manning the bridge, and collecting toll for its short 1km stretch. It paid him enough for his frugal living habits and to support his loving family, even enough for his 2 young girls to see them through to whatever tertiary institution that might gain their fancy. He had his whole life planned out beautifully. His wife was gorgeous, and supportive. There was nothing more that he could have asked for. He was truly in bliss.

All was fine in the world, until the Government accepted a proposal for the Casino to be built on the island. The management immediately decided that the immense traffic that would use the bridge would be jammed up if the toll booth were to continue its lucrative, but ultimately unnecessary existence, and he was fired.

It really went downhill from there. He never got another job. His wife left him, along with the 2 girls whom he never saw again. He took to drinking, and blaming the world for all the ills he had to suffer. In the months that came, he had to sell his apartment just to make ends meet. After the mortgage and monthly payments to his re-married ex-wife, he was quickly siphoning off whatever sum was left.

He couldn't find the light at the end of the tunnel, and decided to go out with a bang, literally. He plotted his revenge.

As he carries the case filled with a timer and explosives, his mind fixes upon delivering it to its target. He nonchalantly puts the other hand into his pocket, and fiddles with the few coins that are in there. They are all that's left that he can rightly call his.

He fishes them out. A dollar and twenty five cents. As he passes the 5 cent machines, he pops a coin in, and continues walking. The machine rings and pops but simply swallows the gold-tinged coin. Small loss.

He turns left into the alley with the twenty cent machines, heading towards the lobby. He inserts the twenty cent coin in his hand, simultaneously getting a static shock from walking on the carpet. This time he stops. Cherry. Banana. Orange. Just as he expected. Again.

"Almost time," he thinks to himself. He imagines the collateral damage that would occur when the timer reaches its hour mark. It would be amazing. He had spent his last eight thousand dollars building this bomb over the last six months. He still remembers how to build one. National Service may have been years ago, but his time in the Engineer Corp was well spent on training.

He took another left and reaches the lobby. As he covers the expanse towards the reception counter, he passes the largest slot machine in the Casino. He pops the last one dollar coin. A million to one were the odds, largely branded above the machine in bright neon lights.

He hits the jackpot.

Immediately, bright spotlights shine on his person. The hotel manager, dressed in a suit, offers his hand and grabs the man's from his side, shaking it fiercely. The man goes into shock. Music starts blasting from all directions and a person announces over the intercom that the ten million dollar jackpot has finally been won. Confetti starts falling from the ceiling.

As he regains his senses, his left arm suddenly feels infinitely heavier. As he grasps the concept that his life has undoubtedly taken another turn, he starts to sweat profusely. It can all be salvaged now. He can even have his family back, and not worry about a thing again. With this jackpot, he can live like a king. Now he just has to excuse himself from such overwhelming attention, and quickly turn off the timer away from prying eyes. There is still a chance. Adrenaline courses through his veins at light-speed. His other hand shakes. He wet forehead glistens in the glare of publicity. The man in the suit grabs the case from him, and gestures him to follow as he leads the way towards a stage.

"NO!" He screams, and lunges towards the case. The hotel manager struggles with him, and tries to persuade the man to let go, and assures that the case would not be lost, that the concierge would take care of it. The man jerks it free violently. He hugs it and turns to run.

BOOM.

Everybody's Birthday

Today is officially Everybody's Birthday. The Duff wishes one and all, a happy birthday. A year older, a year wiser. Hopefully.

Its been a week since The Duff blogged. Time really flies when you are having fun. The Duff visited many relatives whom he last saw a year ago, under similar circumstances. The Duff also planned to steal his great-grandparents' portraits during one of these visits. Ask him about that story sometime.

Collecting Hong Baos will never lose its charm.

Gorging has been the rule this past week. The Duff is a few kilograms heavier for sure. Which is good. He plans to use alchemy to turn it to muscle.

Valentine's came and went with the usual hoo haa. The reason all these money churning festivities are planned in February is becase the month is the shortest of the year, and all businessmen still have targets to meet. First a festivity that requires enormous spending, and giving away of money to the age group with the highest spending power on Valentine's, and then followed by Valentine's itself in quick succession. Coincidence? The Duff thinks not!

The Duff had a great time with The Nix. A most excellent time. Points to take note. Cooking is good. Washing is bad.

The Duff just realised that A&W Root Beer has been around since 1919.

The Duff is getting bored. No more holidays to look forward to for quite a while. It is time for him to start looking for other things to do, and more Truths to seek.

Share your Truths. Peace out!

Been a while

9 days have passed since The Duff last blogged. Have you seen more Truths in the world? The Duff eagerly await your sharing.

The Duff had a wonderful 9 days actually. Events have piled up in his life such that he didn't really have time to blog. During the time since, he had worked his ass off, and played his ass off. Spent a bundle on doodads and knick knacks. Shopping truly is therapeutic. Read some excellent comics (We3 rocks! go check it out!).

Had some fine dining. At the Esplanade. On a rooftop. In the evening. With his soulmate.

The celebration of life with festivals and holidays. They break the monotony and liven up everybody's lives. They remove people from the norm and dull routine that society has pigeonholed everyone into. Only the daring escapes this circle of routine, but may fall into another nevertheless. Thus, Holidays do enliven lives.

With the Lunar New Year officially minutes away in this time zone, The Duff would like to wish one and all to have a most excellent New Year, to thank everyone for contributing to the economy, and lastly, to show him the money.

Drink<->don't drive.

Truth to ponder.

"I'm just giving my two cents worth."-> Giving my opinion.
"A penny for your thoughts?"-> What are you thinking?

Does everyone talk more than the listener wants to hear?

Exhaustion is exhausting.

The Duff had a tough week. In between helping his elder brother move, he also had functions to attend, soccer to practice, work to do and food to eat. On top of that he had to fix up his own home, especially the supreme mess of the Universe, his room.

Time seem to be a very limited commodity to The Duff. He finds that it is getting out of hand. Time management is required in his life. Does anyone out there have any suggestions?

The Duff had soccer practice yesterday. Right now, he cannot feel his legs. They have disappeared from him, and are reluctant to return to his body because of the strain that he put them through. In spite of a rigorous warm up, they were still tortured into putting up a good show for The Duff's new colleagues. They are pretty sure the moment they return, he would put them through a regular exercise regime. They are sure of this. Very sure.

Right.

Nothing much going on in the Comics scene. A few good comic-based movies are premiering soon though. After the abysmal Elektra, the next one will be, woah, Constantine. Matrix with magic. Sin City is in April. Nice. Star Wars in May. Fantastic Four some time in the summer. Very exciting year indeed. And who can forget, BATMAN! The Duff wishes to watch all these at sneak preview weekends, and cordially invites all his friends. RSVP.

That's all for now. Till the next time The Duff gets more inspired, do share your Truths, right here in this blog.

As the days go by

The Duff slowly finds his days being taken up, even after work. And this pisses him off. His so called free time to spend with whomever he wants is being spent on people that he might not want to spend time with, the decision being not his at all. When doesn life spin out of control, and out of your hands?

Just this week, 4 evenings have been booked. Now one might suggest that this isn't that bad, as it would seem a healthy social life is in place. Unfortunately, a social life beyond control is not what The Duff thinks of as ideal. One should have some time off each day free from committments, and to spend finding one's bliss.

Committment. Has it become a dirty word? Where do your loyalties lie? How do you prioritise? Can society as a whole destroy the individual to such as extent? Share with me your Truths.

Give The Duff A Break!

The Duff had just gone through a break. No, not a break-up, but a 3 day long weekend break.

While most of it wasn't rest, The Duff somehow feels rejuvenated. On top of helping move some heavy duty furniture and getting his hands dirty, it was good clean hard work, and not of the cerebral nature. The Duff believes sometimes a little physical toil is what the body needs. Maybe the endorphins the body produces during phycial exertion cleanses the soul.

The Duff recently read a comic book (Planetary Issue 21) wherein the writer spins a yarn regarding how shamans and mystics manage to know so much about the afterlife and other things. Usually they indulge in some herbal concoction before performing their rituals. The writer suggests that its perhaps because the herbs come from the deep forest, with roots going way down, sucking nutrients from animals and even men who have died before, and thus retain the knowledge somehow. Good stuff.

The Duff also had 2 excellent nights with his gal. After all the hard work during the day, he can only manage sitting in front of a screen in pitch darkness with a whole other bunch of strangers, watching photons hit the screen seemingly at random. How this phenomenon coupled with timed sounds manage to whisk them to Neverland and the Marvel Universe must seem like magic to people from a 100 years before, but something everyone takes for granted now.

The Duff is constantly amazed at how magical technology has become. Has the world come full circle? Are the shamans of today the so called technological wizards? There will come a point when the technical know-how needed to understand how a certain piece of technology works will be way beyond the common man. Wouldn't that, at that moment seem like a magical object?

That is a Truth that the Duff is slowly learning to accept, much to his dismay. What do the rest of you think? Do you share in this Truth?

Chapter 2

He freezes. He could feel his face turn white while he watches the blood drip from the carvings.

"Why have they come back?" He terrifyingly questions himself, when deep down he knows the answers. "How could they know?"

His hands begin to shiver, as the fear and reality grips him. The inevitable hard fact that he will never escape from the Organization hits him like a truck. His knees buckle and he crumbles to the ground.

All other matters that had bothered him in this new life seem trivial once again. No matter how hard he had tried to run, it seems they have found him. His eyes begin to tear as only hopelessness can bring about. In submission, his shoulders falls. In defeat, he surrenders to fate.

"Steel yourself, boy. I've spent too much of my precious time on you for you to be like a wet dog that you are!" A booming voice resounded along the stairwell. It was a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

"Have you come for me then, old man? Come to finish the job that they sent you to do? I always guessed it would be you; and in some ways, even hoped."

The old man begins to laugh, a hearty laugh from the depths of his body. In the distance, thunder ripples through the air.

"I have not come to finish you off, you little pup. But there is a need for you now, more than ever. The Organization is in chaos. It has become two halves with which one has decided the world is better off without you. I lead the other half. Now come with me. There is much work to be done."

He gets up from the ground and turns around to face the old man. Their eyes meet and they both smile. They embrace each other like old friends. There is much history between them.

Aeons.

Balance

The Duff has reached an intersection in his life, which is kind of fast, what with him being so 'young'.

One path leads upslope, up a hill with poison ivy and thorny bushes, with pebbles and landslides, pitfalls and perils, but also found in the distance, mansions and cars, nice clothes and all the other things good in material life. This path signifies the road taken by most who sacrifice much to further their careers, forsaking their innocence and friendships, their care-free lifestyles of the distant pasts.

The other path leads neither upslope nor downhill. It winds sideways, and in all gradients. It has less hazards, but also less mansions, and more of straw huts and brick houses with peeling paint. The dirt track is clear and distinct, with only light shrubs on the sides. This is the path taken by those who prefer to enjoy the finer things in life, to not let their jobs steal away their habits and wants. To have freedom as society allows, while at the expense of not having the full luxuries that life may or may not provide.

The Duff needs to decide which path to take, for once taken, the 2 paths seldom intersect, and a barb-wire fence borders the 2 paths.

The Duff feels that life is too short. Once the road is taken, there can be no turning back. For looking back means having regrets, as well as neck aches.

The Truth is needed. The Duff seeks it daily. Share your Truths.

Chapter 1

He abruptly sits up in his bed. His clock is ticking away as he takes short, shallow breaths. His forehead has a layer of cold sweat,his heart beating like a korean drum.

The alarm goes off. He clicks on the 'Alarm Off' button. "Just in time," he thinks to himself," and not a moment too soon."

He could see the street outside his room through his blinds. Car lights filter through the dirty window, casting cold, long shadows across his ceiling. He gets off his bed and his feet automatically searches for his slippers. He hates cold floors.

The bathroom greets him as it always had each morning. His place of solitude. The man looking at him in the mirror looks oddly familiar. He goes through his daily morning routine, coming out of the bathroom ready to tackle the world.

He picks out his uniform and gets dressed. Getting his bag and shoes, he tries to leave home as quietly as possible. His family is still fast asleep. He closes the main door, and puts on his shoes. As he stands up, an iron tang in the air hurts his senses.

He looks up and sees the word "HELL" carved into the wooden door.

The Apathetic Shoe Salesman

The Duff keeps hearing things about the young people nowadays not caring about the world beyong their own. The do not participate in the political system, and they do not cherish what they have, having been living in a world relatively secure and untouched by the perils of the reality.

Apathy develops in people too much into their comfort zones. Without a challenge to their established realities, it is hard for them to imagine a life otherwise. How can they be bothered with affairs of the outside world?The Duff was thinking, what with the terrible tragedy of the tsunamies in the region, was all the help really sincere in all sense of the word? Were they really helping out to make the life of strangers better? Or were they just doing it for the credit, the recognition, the social pull of such an event and its 'rewards'? Or is The Duff just too skeptical? The appearances of roller blades and snowboards amongst the donations just didn't appease The Duff's cynical side at all, not one bit.

What about those who continued to sell vouchers, or collect donations on behalf of other charities? Did their 'business' decrease due to a shift in the tide of sympathy? What about the charity shows on television? Were their collections less, now that people have blown their tax-write-offs on tsunami donations already?

The Duff supposes that for us, the favoured in the eyes of the world, to truly appreciate the goodness that can be done, we have to really see and experience the tragedies. To walk among the fields of the dead, and to console the inconsolable. To step into another's shoes, as wretched as those shoes may be, without soles or spiked with thorns, those unbearable shoes. Simply giving out monies, and goods, as kind and well intentioned, cannot be compared with those who went over to the disaster areas, and to get into the thick of things.

The Duff salutes them. They are heroes. They are The Truth.

The Agony of Love

The Duff had recently been listening to another series of audiobooks. The latest was a series of interviews with Joseph Campbel, who was an authority on mythology, stories from the dawn of time to recent history, stories from all cultures, religions, geographies and philosophies.

In them, he found many similar themes from totally unrelated periods and peoples. It was as if stories were being tapped from a world ether that everyone shares. The innate desires and fears, trials and tribulations of all, except The Duff, seem to be the same, whenever and wherever we hail from.

One of the chapters described Love. And Sacrifice. Funny how both are associated together. In that chapter, he described love as being an agony, the agony of being apart from that special someone whom you yearn for. But with that agony comes bliss when being together. In life, there is always a balance.

Love is a very human condition. No other creature in the world could possibly fathom such an emotion. Some species of animals do practice monogamy, but love simply transcends such simple biological functions. There are many forms of it, from brotherly to romantic to familial.

Poems have been written about it. Movies made, songs sung, paintings drawn, lives lost, lives Lived, all for this simple yet unquestionably complex human condition. It takes years for one to come to terms with it. To truly appreciate and understand its function in its many forms.

Does one let it overcome oneself? Does one hold it back, in control on a leash? Does one live with it, side by side, or like an acrobat on a highwire? Is it overated? Is it understated? Its a conundrum to say the least.

Give me your truths. Give me your words. Give me your opinions. You Are The Truth.

The Duff? He seeks romantic love, lets it overwhelm him, then lives beside it, and slowly controls it. Its a ride The Duff enjoys, and thinks life is much more fulfilling because of it.
The other loves supports romantic love. But these pillars are also very important. Without them, it all fails. These are what The Duff opinionates.

Now go seek, and ye shall find, while The Duff goes singing in the rain.

Good Food, Clean Living

The Duff had an enormous dinner today. 4 appetizers, 2 main courses, a dessert and a coffee. Caloric intake was estimated to be 100,000,000 kCals.

The Duff shall work out tomorrow.

Does this constitute as a good health practice? Do you first eat beyond your needs, and then work it out? Or do you first work it out, then replenish what you have lost or are going to need? The Duff supposes over-eating is never good, as wonderfully out of this world it may feel during the process, the after effects leave little to be desired.

Nutritionists suggest eating 6 small meals a day. The Duff thinks the Hobbits might have been on to something with their many meals. Perhaps that's why they are so small. Eating many small meals supposedly quickens your metabolic rate. Small meals constitute sandwiches, apples, high protein or carbohydrate bars, cereals, etc.

Not exactly great food in The Duff's humble opinion.

Nothing beats an oily sausage, freshly cooked bacon strips, a chunky hamburger, salty fries, bloody steak, cheesy hotdogs and any chinese dish.

Give The Duff your opinion on this topic. You Are The Truth. Share your Truth,share your Word.

The Duff, he likes food.

Lost in dreams

Last night, The Duff slept. And I took over.

I was in a world of dreams. Dreams of all shapes and sizes, flavours and textures, emotions and ideas. It was wonderful.

I haven't had a nightmare in ages. The only ones I remember were the recurring ones from The Duff's youthful years. Although I'm not any older, he has, and I now seldom encounter nightmares. Perhaps The Duff has enough nightmares in his waking world, such that my world is his escape, and therefore less frightful.

I dreamt that life was all candy floss and festival musics. Bright lights from carnivals, and happy children running around. The Duff's friends were all happy and The Duff's girlfriend was the happiest. Free from woes and trials of life, they roamed the carnival, like children swimming in a sea of Skittles.

I turned into a darker corner of the party, during the middle of the night, and saw some vile creatures roaming in cages. The remains of criminals were on the cage floors. I chuckled at this, especially George Bush Jr's face lying in the corner, beside words like Crusade, and ideas like arrogance, and little creatures called fear, jealousy, conceit and .

I returned to the carnival at the other end of the alley. The Duff's friends were joined in a parade, circling the carnival on elephants and grand horses, camels, dolphins and whales.

All good things end in time, and soon, a ringing started in the background. It got louder and louder, and as the sun rose on the carnival, so did The Duff, and I de-materialised.

Its impossible to find Duff for lunch......

So The Duff can't wait for his chariot to be delivered to his castle. In the meantime, the public carts and wagons shall suffice. Hard to believe that his place of toil is beyond the horizon, almost in the next kingdom. Every dawn brings forth an hour of buttnumbing travel and adventure. Tedious to say the least. All for the gold though, all for the gold....

So what else is new in this world today? Tsunami relief efforts doing well, and The Duff certainly hope that less lives are lost needlessly from now on. It really is time for the global community to set aside their tribal differences, and really get along.

One candle of life that was cast into the shadows, was that of Will Eisner. While most of you certainly haven't a clue who that was, let The Duff enlighten you lost sheep.

Will Eisner was a legend. A living legend. He was a pioneer, and a revolutionary in American Comics since the 30s. His stories were crafted with such intelligence, that for those who thought that comics were only for the kids, would certainly then not want Eisner's books to land in their children's hands; for they told tales of wonder, and tales of the human condition. From newspaper strips to The Spirit, from his many D.C. Original Graphic Novels, most of them semi-autobiographical, his professionalism and craftsmanship shone through the 4 coloured world and into ours. R.I.P. Will, a rest well deserved.

Were any truths uncovered by you, dear reader, today? You Are The Truth. Always remember that. Revelations are only a glance in the mirror away. Tell The Duff what you have learnt, and spread the word, The Truth.

The Duff had a hectic day in the labour camp today. The Duff is braindead, after having much information bamboozled into his thick skull. The job is coming along, and in time, it shall be conquered, and vanquished, by The Duff's overpowering spirit. Then, the job wouldn't be a task of terror, but an exercise in satisfaction.

Leaving with a note, The Duff says," Follow your bliss, find it, and never let go."
Words to live by, for sure.

Till tomorrow, go forth and plunder!

First Post!

NAH!

Its up. The Duff finally has a blogspot. And like most of his spots, its gonna grow. And leave scars. On himself and those who are unlucky enough to chance upon them. With physical revulsion and psychological invasion, this blogspot shall rule the world.

You Are The Truth! You are all that you know. All else are seen through eyes that only know what you know, that only what your brain perceives. You are your Own truth. Feel free to share your truths with The Duff. Go forth and live life, as The Duff has lived his.

The Duff has done so, and therefore practices what he preaches. Today, a new chapter in the book of his life is written. A chapter that would encompass much of his remaining life. He has started on his career.

Who knows what The Duff is gonna get. Stay tuned to find out he guesses. For now, seek out your truths, while he scratches his balls and falls asleep.

Sod Off!