Posts tagged zedeck

A Plan To Succeed In The Afterlife

zedecksiew:

In the mansions of the earth, in the yellow springs, dead people arrive daily: well dressed, newly billionaires, their banknotes crisp but smelling burnt.

The Tan Sri wondered about this often, while he was still alive but getting older.

He thought to himself – “Hm,” he thought. “Over there everybody is rich. How will I act on my advantage? Dead people think of the leisure life; they are served joss houses and credit cards. How is the joss money spent? Who owns the shops and the services, who makes the merchandise?”

And so the Tan Sri left instructions. He spoke to paper merchants, commissioning cranes made of sticks; there were cement mixers, diggers, excavators with glass-paper cabs; paper workers line by line like an army. There were deeds drawn up: land titles and bills of sale.

When he passed away his sons put these papers to the fire.

And when the Tan Sri awoke in his afterworld he was rich already – not only rich with cash; he owned vast swathes of property, across several levels in prime locations, with the proper documents as proof.

Within three months of the Tan Sri’s arrival Capital UCB opened its first branch in the mansions of the earth. By the yellow springs groundwork for Cityville Phase Six was laid, a luxurious mixed development: condominiums, commercial arcades, nail bars and coffee shops.

Today’s harvest: seven durians.
We’ve been giving them away — to our neighbours, our coffeeshop uncles, our gardener, our other coffeeshop uncles, our neighbours’ gardener …
Still we’ve got more durians dropping.

Today’s harvest: seven durians.

We’ve been giving them away — to our neighbours, our coffeeshop uncles, our gardener, our other coffeeshop uncles, our neighbours’ gardener …

Still we’ve got more durians dropping.

The moon (right-hand corner!) watches over our durians, and helps them grow big!

The moon (right-hand corner!) watches over our durians, and helps them grow big!

The court hearing for Mak Nyahs who are filing a judicial review against their syariah arrests is taking place today, at the Putrajaya Court of Appeal.
Sharon wears guy clothes often, and I put on dresses a lot — it’s sickening to know that if we were a different skin colour we’d be criminals.  
We took this photo to show some support.
Justice For Sisters!

The court hearing for Mak Nyahs who are filing a judicial review against their syariah arrests is taking place today, at the Putrajaya Court of Appeal.

Sharon wears guy clothes often, and I put on dresses a lot — it’s sickening to know that if we were a different skin colour we’d be criminals.  

We took this photo to show some support.

Justice For Sisters!

An Embarrassing Condition

zedecksiew:

The nurse pops her head out, calls his name. Inside the room is freezing. The doctor wears a blazer and a kopiah. “Hello,” the doctor says. “So what’s wrong with you?”

“I’ve got this thing,” Shah says.

He hesitates. Finally he pulls off his sweater cap. The doctor cranes to look, and adjusts his spectacles: the patch of cloth on Shah’s head has grown. It is now six centimetres across – six centimetres in three days. “Hm,” the doctor says, poking and pressing.

Shah says: “Ow!”

“It’s quite swollen around the edges,” the doctor replies. “Infected already. I’ll give you an antiseptic cream.”

“Doctor, why – ” Shah asks.

And the doctor says: “Don’t worry about it. You are in your late twenties – twenty-nine? Ya, one third of guys your age get it, and for most people it comes sooner or later. It’s harmless.”

“I don’t want it.”

The doctor rolls his eyes. “Look,” he says. “I know, it’s making you feel insecure. But do you want surgery? Because you need surgery to get rid of it. My advice is: leave it. Sometimes it falls off on its own.”

Shah has to stop himself from scratching. The doctor points at his own face, taps the kopiah on his head, and says: “Anyway, is it really so terrible a look?”

The Lot 1699 Guide To Post-Colonial Literature - Lesson 2:
Not everything is a reference to the takbir.

The Lot 1699 Guide To Post-Colonial Literature - Lesson 2:

Not everything is a reference to the takbir.

zedecksiew:

I’m in Fixi Novo’s latest short-fiction anthology, "KL NOIR: BLUE"! Yay, woo hoo, excelsior, etc.
It’s a story — or rather, three stories stitched together — that feature Sandy and Aina, a pair of girls who’ve been friends since primary school, and like to get into all sorts of shit. Here they are, plotting some trouble:

“You’re joking, right?” she says. “You have to be joking.”
Aina says: “You said you would.”
“Yes I did,” Sandy tells Aina’s shoes, “but come on.”
~
She did say she would. It’d been at one of their drunker nights, and in the course of drunken conversation – oh stinky you’re my best friend forever; oh poo-face why don’t we hang out more? – they’d worked out the boundaries of their friendship.
“Okay okay. Okay. I got one. What’s the abss-solutely worst thing we’d do for each other?”
“I’ve done mine. Remember? Making out with you. For that Andrew guy you wanted to impress.”
“Oh come on that wasn’t so bad!”
“For you maybe,” Aina said, hah ha ha, huh hu. “Anyway, so now you owe me. What would you do for me?”
“Well, since you’re always in messed-up trouble, if you need help burying a dead body I’d help you.”
“That’s fucking nothing! I don’t need your help with that, I can do that myself!”
~
“Actually, no, I didn’t say I would,” Sandy says. “I’d help you bury a dead body is what I said. Meaning dead already. I never said kill someone!”

zedecksiew:

I’m in Fixi Novo’s latest short-fiction anthology, "KL NOIR: BLUE"! Yay, woo hoo, excelsior, etc.

It’s a story — or rather, three stories stitched together — that feature Sandy and Aina, a pair of girls who’ve been friends since primary school, and like to get into all sorts of shit. Here they are, plotting some trouble:

“You’re joking, right?” she says. “You have to be joking.”

Aina says: “You said you would.”

“Yes I did,” Sandy tells Aina’s shoes, “but come on.”

~

She did say she would. It’d been at one of their drunker nights, and in the course of drunken conversation – oh stinky you’re my best friend forever; oh poo-face why don’t we hang out more? – they’d worked out the boundaries of their friendship.

“Okay okay. Okay. I got one. What’s the abss-solutely worst thing we’d do for each other?”

“I’ve done mine. Remember? Making out with you. For that Andrew guy you wanted to impress.”

“Oh come on that wasn’t so bad!”

“For you maybe,” Aina said, hah ha ha, huh hu. “Anyway, so now you owe me. What would you do for me?”

“Well, since you’re always in messed-up trouble, if you need help burying a dead body I’d help you.”

“That’s fucking nothing! I don’t need your help with that, I can do that myself!”

~

“Actually, no, I didn’t say I would,” Sandy says. “I’d help you bury a dead body is what I said. Meaning dead already. I never said kill someone!”

thesharonchin:

I drew a portrait of my gardener for his 68th birthday. Long live gardeners, everywhere. More about Mr. Raman (that be his name) here. 

Mr. Raman, our gardener, chopping down the terrible bougainvillea last year. Sharon made a drawing to give to him for his 68th birthday!

thesharonchin:

I drew a portrait of my gardener for his 68th birthday. Long live gardeners, everywhere. More about Mr. Raman (that be his name) here. 

Mr. Raman, our gardener, chopping down the terrible bougainvillea last year. Sharon made a drawing to give to him for his 68th birthday!

A House God

zedecksiew:

The door buckles and flies off its hinges. Birds burst out – swiftlets, lots and lots of them, clicking and swarming. They punch through the balustrade and begin circling the fig, burning circular, five-toed marks into bark as they weave around its branches.

The birds are doubling back. Duck!

~

Waiter In The Walls (Solitary, Large, Amorphous)
Weight of flying bodies (d8+3 damage), 20 HP, 0 armour
Reach, Forceful
Special Qualities: Swarm

Hail the Old-eater, the Pervert Of Purpose, eternal and ever-young! What is its bird-flesh, roiling and serpentine, but a merest shadow? The Waiter In The Walls is water damage, holes in the floor and roof; it is every urban rejuvenation plan, every workman’s hammer taken to every condemned shop-house. How can you destroy a thing when the thing itself is destruction?

Instinct: To cause decline.

  • Knock over and engulf
  • Fill with existential dread
  • Rust and wear down inanimate matter

A Sky God

zedecksiew:

In Father’s manual-book, which used to belong to Grandfather, there is a drawing of the Lordly Dragon. It is a drawing of a long python snake, arranged into the outline of a person.

The faded, handwritten description says:

“The Lordly Dragon, great lord amongst sea serpents, was not as great as the King of Dragons but equally prideful. For this pride he was cast out of the sea, and imprisoned in a hill outside Sungai Ujong, and charged to ninety-nine years of meditation and asking God for forgiveness.

And after ninety-nine years the Lordly Dragon was free once more, and missing exercise of his body he burst forth from the earth, causing landslips, flooding and destruction of property.

Unwilling to share lordship, the Lordly Dragon did not return to his home in the sea, but made new dwellings in the wind, to assume government of serpents above. And thus the Lordly Dragon is now the wind, and the storm, for every exercise of his body is thunder and lightning, and every stirring causes heavy rain.

Only God is All-Knowing.”