linguistics marathon day 2: typography

how weird and wonderful the world is when linguists lace their words with cynicism. they know so much more than other people, simply through the revelation linguistic instrumentation provides for them. we pry subliminal messages from the powerful. we plant ideologies into the weak. the world would be far less complicated but utterly pointless without us.

i relish in joining the ranks of descriptive linguists.

~ lovingly, philters

In the earlier days it was kings and deities whose agents demanded that their names be written in a larger size or set in a specially ornate typeface; now it is business firms and mass-market products demanding an extra helping of capitals, or a proprietary face, and poets pleading, by contrast, to be left entirely in the vernacular lower case. But type is visible speech, in which gods and men, saints and sinners, poets and business executives are fundamentally treated alike. And the typographer, by virtue of his trade, honors stewardship of texts and implicitly opposes private ownership of words.

Logotypes and logograms push typography in the direction of hieroglyphics, which tend to be looked at rather than read. They also push it toward the realm of candy and drugs, which tend to provoke dependent responses, and away from the realm of food, which tends to promote autonomous being. Good typography is like bread: ready to be admired, appraised, and dissected before it is consumed.

…

There are those who dream of a perfect world in which copyrighted text is translated into copyrighted glyphs through copyrighted rules with no more human intervention than it takes to feed a tape to a machine, while money flows in perpetuity to everyone involved. There are also those who think that putting chairs and air-conditioners in hell will make it just as good as heaven. Actually, working with type is an earthly task, much less like sitting down and turning on TV than like walking on our hands across an ever-varied, never-ending landscape that is otherwise too far away to see.

Excerpts from The Elements of Typographic Style
version 2.5, by Robert Bringhurst, ISBN 0-88179-132-6

 

ten day linguistics marathon begins (because that is how long i have until i need to submit my final thesis draft)!

linguistics is one of the geekiest art subjects there are. i love it. simply because other people think it is boring. language is merely language, but the engineering of language – its structures, its cultures, its psychology, its economics, its politics – THAT is linguistics.

this thesis is my postgraduate contribution to the applied linguistics universe. it is overwhelming and draining the living daylights out of me – and where i suffer indulge, so does this blog. all encouragements very much appreciated. it is about time i decided to graduate.

According to Krippendorff (1980), six questions must be addressed in every content analysis approach to qualitative research:

1. Which data are analyzed?
2. How are they defined?
3. What is the population from which they are drawn?
4. What is the context relative to which the data are analyzed?
5. What are the boundaries of the analysis?
6. What is the target of the inferences?

According to Stemler (2001), at least three problems can occur when documents are being assembled for content analysis. First, when a substantial number of documents from the population are missing, the content analysis must be abandoned. Second, inappropriate records (e.g., ones that do not match the definition of the document required for analysis) should be discarded, but a record should be kept of the reasons. Finally, some documents might match the requirements for analysis but just be uncodable because they contain missing passages or ambiguous content.

Bibliography:

Krippendorff, K. (1980). Content Analysis: An Introduction to Its Methodology. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

Stemler, Steve (2001). An overview of content analysis. Practical Assessment, Research & Evaluation, 7(17). Retrieved November 28, 2006 from http://PAREonline.net/getvn.asp?v=7&n=17

 

the black parade ~ performed by my chemical romance

i know the song does not go with the photos – or does it, after all that we have been through together? – oh well, here’s a dedication to you guys anyway. hey tanjung, when are we going to JB?

when i was a young boy
my father took me into the city
to see a marching band

he said, “son when you grow up,
would you be the saviour of the broken,
the beaten and the damned?”

he said, “will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non believers,
the plans that they have made?”

“because one day i’ll leave you,
a phantom to lead you in the summer,
to join the black parade.”

sometimes i get the feeling
he’s watching over me
and other times i feel like i should go

and through it all, the rise and fall,
the bodies in the streets
when you’re gone we want you all to know

we’ll carry on, we’ll carry on
though you’re dead and gone believe me
your memory will carry on

we’ll carry on
and in my heart i can’t contain it
the anthem won’t explain it

and we will send you reeling
from decimated dreams
your misery and hate will kill us all

so paint it black and take it back
lets shout it loud and clear
defiant to the end – we hear the call

to carry on – we’ll carry on
though you’re dead and gone believe me
your memory will carry on

we’ll carry on – and though you’re broken and defeated
your weary widow marches on and on we carry through the fears
disappointed faces of your peers
take a look at me cause i could not care at all

do or die – you’ll never make me
because the world
will never take my heart

you can try, you’ll never break me
you want it all, you wanna play this part
won’t explain or say i’m sorry

i’m not ashamed, i’m gonna show my scar
give a cheer, for all the broken
listen here, because it’s only you

i’m just a man, i’m not a hero
i’m just a boy, who’s meant to sing this song
i’m just a man, i’m not a hero
and i don’t care

do or die, you’ll never make me
because the world, will never take my heart
you can try, you’ll never break me
you want it all, you wanna play this part

 

you learn to live the day you learn to laugh at yourself

i fell down today.

i was in a hurry. i thought, well, three steps at a time ain’t so bad. and i was doing pretty well too. until the last three steps. i lunged a little too forward. and for a moment, i could have regained my balance – the moment just before my body tipped over forward, and i reached for the earth with both hands. the moment was almost surreal. i pushed up as my palms graze against the cracked concrete pavement, and sprang with both elbows, which resulted in a low impact tumble on my right side.

i was bleeding from both palms, an elbow and a knee. i have a knee rip on my cargos. i broke one of most favourite bracelets.

i laughed. i don’t know what came over me. i am not crazy. i was happy. happy to be alive. happy to know that a few cuts and bruises won’t keep me down. happy to know that i am not binded to material bonds. happy to know that i am human. i cry too. and i bleed too. most importantly of all, i can laugh when i want to.

an no one needs to say anything to me to make me feel better. i can do that on my own now. and i fall sometimes – this is not the first time – nor would it be the last time. i realise that i don’t have to go around announcing that i am in pain – for everyone falls at some point in their lives – hence everyone knows of pain. few though know of the true joy of laughter – or why to laugh sometimes. or the meaning of laughter when shared with one’s own spirit.

i get up. hurried to my car to get the files i came down for. leaped back up the stairs – this time two steps at a time.

 

what did the japanese say to the bee he had not seen for some time?

> wasabi (wassup, bee) !!!

sometimes, one needs evenings of random rambles with total strangers. light-headedness revitalises the soul like nothing else.

 

budak-budak zaman sekarang…

i was doing some writing at starbucks this afternoon when a group of kids plonked almost all of themselves in in the sofa set right behind me. kids: because i would not call them adults – i think they’re college freshmen who just turned legal. there were five of them – four landed in the pair of sofas behind me and one in the seat right opposite me.

now when i work, my notes and papers and files and stuff are usually spread all over my workspace. in this case, it would be the table. MY table, for the time being as i was occupying the space first. to be honest, the kid was not touching any of my things so i did not mind too much that he decided to sprawl onto the chair opposite me – not until the conversation of the friends took place with me being in the middle of the line of fire.

tu pun actually did not bother me. their obscene use of the english grammar did tick me off slightly but that pun i let slide.

from what i gather, there were three girls and two guys, all dressed up yuppie poseurs wannabe style – you know, when you sorta overdo everything.

why do i think they just turned legal? well, there was this one girl who was tremendously excited about getting drunk. she kept asking if she really did get drunk at a certain party held at an unspecified location a week back. she seem to have hardly any recollection of the proceedings of the party so i’d assume that she did get boozed over. the group was planning another party this weekend, from what i understood, and thus her excitement about more unmemorable get togethers.

there was this other girl who was seriously overdoing the cutesy thing. i wanted to give her a smack every time she opened her mouth. she whined. she squealed. and even when she attempted to flirt, it was more gedik than anything else. the guy who was with her pulak layan. there was a time he asked her if the place had ice blended chocolate. she replied that she did not know. he kept asking her to find out and she kept replying she did not know. i swear, i felt like just leaning over and telling him, ‘dude, yes there is damned ice blended chocolate here so be a man, gather your balls, get up and go get it yourself!!!’ this girl pun satu – trying to play the tease with the pout and all – beb, tolonglah, you’ve been watching too many dumb pre-teen movies like high school musical.

and then of course, there was the dude who was making himself quite comfortable in the chair opposite me. so comfortable, that i believe he started day dreaming. remember that i was in the line of fire? his friends who were sitting behind me pun realised that he was dreaming and out of the fucking blue, screamed for him. i tell you, if only my shoulder is not still a little stiff from the climbing trip, i would have swung a wild arm to the einstein who screamed.

the dude opposite me snapped out of his dreaming. the guy behind me realised he gave me a shock tapi no apologies or anything. the girls giggled. boleh? macam kelakar jer kan? and then just as quickly, the group returned to their drinking party planning – cutting college early, what to tell mummy and daddy, where to buy the wine – and the dude in front of me returned to the beautiful land of fantasy with one heavy sign.

tak sampai five minutes pun, amidst giggles and squeals, the cutesy girl started swinging her legs. cute la konon. she started kicking on her sofa which was incidently resting against my chair, so technically, my chair was the one receiving the non-rhythmic kicks. that was it la. i pushed my table forward loudly, and pulled my chair along even more loudly. the group terus senyap and looked at me.

‘she was kicking my chair.’ i responded, and promptly returned to my work.

from behind me, more giggles. more cutesy squeals. more drunken ambitions. more unmacho remarks from the dude. tolong la, takde ke anything even the least bit intellectual to talk about, ah? and your planning seriously sucks, man. talking about running away from classes and ducking parents is so amateur. you know what, i bet that if i lit a cigarette there and then, they’d think that i was the coolest babe in the universe.

they eventually revived their dreaming friend and moved on with their aimless gallivant. i took a moment to thank god that i experienced a daria phrase when i was that age instead of what they are going through.

 

humanity takes itself too seriously. it is the world’s original sin. if the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different.

extract from the picture of dorian gray
by oscar wilde

 

panjat batu

if you have ever taken the old kl trunk road to ipoh, you’d pass this great limestone crop of rock at the templer’s area, just before you hit rawang.

i went to panjat that batu.

i have never climbed rocks before, and i have to admit, am not too crazy about abseilling either. i am curious nevertheless, about what the big deal is about this sport. the extend of human passion for adventure never ceases to amaze me. plus, i have been in cold storage i.e. studying for far too long.

i hooked up with some of the most extreme climbers in the country, and met them at this rock. now, there are other rocks to climb in town, the more popular one being batu caves. this place is different. for one thing, to get to the climbing location, we needed to trek ascending for about an hour in the forest. it builds quite a sweat and i realised that the past two months break has definately taken a toll on my fitness level.

as in any lowland forest in malaysia, there are leeches here. their bites are quite painless and it was quite some time after the bugger had fallen off and the blood had dried before i realised that i got bitten, twice! pacats love me man, i seem to get them in just about every forest i go into. there was this one girl in our group who would squeal at even the mention of leeches, even if it is not on her, even if it isn’t even there. in her mind, every other twig or fallen leaf looked like a leech, so you can imagine the amount of squealing.

the thing is, a least she kept on going. maybe it is because she really did not have much of a choice (he he! – nanti kena tinggal). but it is alway inspiring to me when people push on despite their greatest fears. of course we teased her. she got bitten by a leech, but it was so painless. all we found on the shivering girl was a tiny patch of dried blood. it of course, did not help when we told her the leech had crawled into her blood veins and was delivering babies in it. ha ha ha! jahat kan kita ni?:)

like i said, i have never climbed before. and i find myself here face to face with a vertical wall with little cracks and an odd stub here and there. i was rigged up and pulled myself up the first so-called ledge. despite the harness, gravity was something that was always on my mind. fear of heights, fear of falling and fear of slamming into a wall all rolled in one. rocks are hard (duh!), and some cracks don’t really give much of a grip. i was told my techniques ada inefficient sikit because i relied too much on upper body strength, when the legs also play a vital role in the climb.

i must have been one of the slower climbers, i think, because i think too much. too much strategising and planning my next move instead of just reaching out and taking a chance – at least at the first leg of the climb. after that, i must have looked like some maniac with a newton death wish.

climbing okay lagi. it was the abseilling leg that was to me, the horror of horrors of this sport. at least at the climb, there was the batu to stand on, no matter how little the crack of stub was. on the abseil, it was a tali between me and 30 meters of air before i reach earth again. looking down was a mistake.

i exaggerate. it really was not all that bad. but that was the sensational rush of fear in my mind. the first step over the ledge and over the wall was really the most difficult part as my trust is put onto the rope. i navigated down the wall. i cannot say that i was not scared. my perut kecut and because the harness was memang sitting right on my perut, sakit wei. you have no idea how wonderful it is to be a creature of the land until your feet touched the earth again after a 30 meter rope decend.

the rope friction burned wei. i think it was more salah technique when releasing the rope on my way down. both my hands were red when i reached the bottom. and oh, the carabena in the picture was not the one holding me up. that was the one used to make sure my camera was attached to me at all times. i had a locking carabena at all times:)

if any of you feng shui experts want to give me a palm reading, go right ahead:P

thus was my weekend. my first love remains the water, but now i can say that where rocks are concerned, i have been there and i have done that. i love the forest and evidently, the forest loves me too.

climbers, i realised possess an enormous amount of strength and are amazingly fit. this fascinates me. i might go and check out a climbing gym one of these days. yea, that actually sounds like an idea:)

happy monday!

 

hot rod transformation matrix

no matter how canggih the cartoons you see on tv nowadays, this blogger feels that the 80s is the the prime of them all. ah, those were the days a cartoon did not have to be vulgar in order to be exciting.

this is hot rod’s transformation matrix, taken from transformers – the movie: one of the most defining moments of transformer history! i’ve watched the whole movie eons ago. to bring you up to speed, it is the peak of the sybertronian wars. optimus prime died and megatron has been upgraded to galvatron by the planet devouring robot called unicron. before dying, optimus revealed the transformation matrix which can only be opened in the darkest moments to release ultimate leadership power.

although it was inherited to ultra magnus, galvatron got a hold of the matrix. the story follows the adventures of the autobots and dinobots and autobot cousins to the planet of junk etc, and finally ending up in unicron. throughout the story, ultra magnus and galvatron failed to unleash the power of the matrix, but as the vid shows, in the end, it was hot rod that released the matrix and we all see the rise of… rodamus prime.

 

late night in labu

a common urban smite to rural villagers as to why they have so many children, is to say that there really isn’t that many things to do at nights out in the kampungs. of course, it makes logical sense. i know of one villager i spoke to a coupla months back who numbers her kids because she has too many. S told me that she knew of this kid back in her kampung days – when a meal call came from home, the kid would immediately drop whatever it was she was doing and sprint back home – because she has so many siblings, food would be gone if she was late.

children, to put it bluntly, at either a sign of prosperity or burden in different cultures. it is funny to think of having children as a sign of boredom.

to discover alternative kampung style nightlife, unless terribly worn out, i usually linger with my host families when i travel. perhaps it is my imposition, but it really couldn’t be possible that every night the adults retire to their love nests because there is nothing else to do.

labu valley

i was out in labu last night. besides the fruit, you probably never heard of the place. if you look at the ktm komuter routes however, you will see it. to get to labu valley nevertheless, you will need to disembark at tiroi, a station after labu, before seremban. driving here in the day time is dreadful and at night, frightening. the single main road here is frequented by heavy trucks making tracks onto very old villages. just how old? some of the villages i visited here are almost 200 years old – modernised by electricity and tap water, but still maintaining a rural industrial and agricultural lifestyle, with houses made of a combination of wood, bricks, mismatching tiles and zinc.

labu valley is a ten-year-old bistro, four kilometres from the labu turn off at seremban – and according to some of the people in the know, possibly one of the most eccentric night hangouts in the state. i have to admit, when they told me that they were bringing me to a kampung style nightlife, two contrasting images popped into my mind: a rempit den, and a shack of a cafe with coupla old kampung folks talking about opposition parties. labu valley was neither of the above. it was a brightly lit bistro glowing like a blessed thing on an unseeming shoulder of the dark road. it was not huge, but it was amply sized, with plenty of tables and chairs. it was not ala-mamak though – all the tables were covered in thin maroon tablecloths so to give the illusion of somewhat of taste. my hosts told me that the place gets really packed come 11am all the way to 3am – hours when the party really gets started.

a slightly elevated stage stands at the left corner with karaoke monitors and mikes all set up. i know what you’re thinking, its some malay jiwang version of the chinese oldies karaoke dens right? labu valley is nothing of the sort. whole families go there and everyone knows everyone else’s names. and yes, malay songs are available but the run off fan faves here are the minangkabau and english numbers. the place has a DJ – the owner’s son with grunge hairstyle. his own band plays here on saturday nights.

i was there early, surprised to hear the change up between too fast too furious, eminem and the pussycat dolls. shortly after a brief introduction to the owner of the bistro, the DJ welcomed us – over the mikes, of course, and i like, oh my god, please don’t get me to talk…!!! nothing of the sort, of course. its just a thing that the place has to get people to be comfortable with each other. judging from the announcements of other guests, i take it that the bistro has quite a coupla regulars, and he is well aware of their health and what they do. very cosy.

and so goes the night. me with my cup of milo tarik. watching the kampung folk get together. everyone knows everyone else’s names. everyone knows what everyone is doing, and their families. they joke, they tell stories, they sing, and i reckon on some nights they dance too. i reckon that it would be like some ala-p.ramlee era dances, but it would be fun.

my hosts tells me that sometimes, when the nearby villages have hometstay guests, they would sometimes bring them here, and then tak kira la if they are local ke, brits ke, japanese ke, singaporean ke, taiwanese ke, everyone would have fun and sing and have fun. the local villagers learn about their guests and what they do and the guests will share the local villagers’ stories on lifestyles. that is what i think is special about this place. this place reveals that when the day is over and everyone has let their hair down, it is actually possible to be friends with just about anyone.

and kampung life, as i discovered, ain’t as boring after all. there are the changing of the seasons, children growing up, and perhaps most importantly always new friends. there was a hopeful sense of openness from labu valley. and tho i’ve only been there once, i’m almost pretty sure they would remember me if i were to go there again, but not because i was anything outstandingly special – but because everyone is. there is always someone taking the trouble to get to know you and to welcome you and to share your stories.

 

the silent man ~ lyrics by john petrucci, performed by dream theatre

a question well served: “is silence like a fever?
a voice never heard? or a message with no receiver?”

pray they won’t ask behind the stained glass
there’s always one more mask

“has man been a victim of his woman, of his father?
if he elects not to bother will he suffocate their faith?”

desperate to fall behind the great wall
that separates us all

when there is reason – tonight i’m awake
when there’s no answer – arrive the silent man

if there is balance – tonight he’s awake
if they have to suffer – there lies the silent man

sin without deceivers, a god with no believers
i could sail by on the winds of silence

and maybe they won’t notice
but this time i think it’d be better if i swim

 

toy shopping at nilai 3

i was in nilai 3 last night hunting down one of my secret second hand bookshop haunts (well, that’s secret is out, huh) when i wandered into a toyshop. if you have never been to nilai 3, don’t. i have said this in print before, this place will get the best out of you and if you are not careful, you can and will run loony. lagi la if you are the makcik kind or the rempit kind who likes modifying cars, then confirm you will come out of the experience dengan poket berlubang, kak oi. nilai 3 is that kind of place. located out in bloody nowhere, but once you get here, the alice in wonderland effect completely takes over you. god knows the financial casualties during the past festive season.

as i was saying, i wandered into a toyshop. can’t help it. our klang valley malls are so deprived of any good toyshops, really. besides toys’r'us, toycity and the rash of hobby shops, there aren’t any ‘real’ ones anymore, you know what i mean? of course, as long as you might even think of wanting it, nilai 3 has got it. big, proper toyshops. one kind that sells colourful, plastic water pistols, AA batteries operated remote control cars and non mutant looking pooh dolls.

all of a sudden, we found these on the shelves:

i kid you not, my friends, i was there when those photos were taken. what did i tell you about just wanting it and it being in good ol’ nilai 3, huh? barbie dolls getting too obscene for kids? no problem! tudung and jubah clad dolls with modest boobs available at nilai 3! and who would not want a plastic saddam and osama, yeah? saddam punya misai is plastic, but i think you can sikat janggut osama. look, i think they even do some kind of a dance. i tried to switch them on, but there weren’t any batteries and i did not want to go and ask the attendent for some. he was already giving me a look for taking pictures.

everytime i come to nilai 3, there is always and i mean ALWAYS something that amazes me about the place. it is more than the sheer width and breath of the area, which i also learnt last night, is expanding. it is about the secrets, the knicks and knacks of this place which oozes its own brand of quirkiness. despite the blog heading, all i bought were a coupla tshirts. that’s it. nilai 3 nevertheless, has not seen the last of me.

 

legalise my ride

i have to say, i was disappointed by ‘refresh my ride,’ the malaysian solution to mtv’s pimp my ride. not because of how the show was run though. i do realise the effort taken into making it a malaysian production, as well as the details that went into shooting the reality tv series and all. no qualms about that. not even about how cheesy the hosts are. i cannot blame the contestants for being all odd and freaky when the camera is shooting. memang kita tak biasa, which doesnot mean we should not have the show at all.

i just thought that the show would have some sort of educational elements to it. i don’t mean having a traffic police there telling you how to drive. but at least have the mechanics ke, or the parts attendent ke, or the host ke, pointing out that is legal and what is illegal to put onto your car. for example, the cool looking but utterly blinding white headlights are ILLEGAL where it comes to the streets of malaysia, as well as more that 30 percent tinting for more than seven inches above your windshield. coloured under lights ala too fast too furious are also illegal as well as some deafening exhausts. even changing the colour of your car and piercing a sun roof needs to be registered with the road transport department.

of course, alternative rims, absorbers and CD players are cool to learn about on the show, but we need to realise that there are as it is, far too many smart alecs out there bastardising their cars – which is alright by me, because it is your death wish, mister. but when an oncoming car blinds you with beam headlights, or if one of those wannabe super turbo cars zip in and out of lanes on a highway suka hati mak bapak dia jer, there really is nothing funny about it. i’m not saying we turn the show all serious and all, but make safety a fun and cool thing la. this is really an oppourtunity not only for people to pimp their cars, but also to spread the word of good vehicle maintenance and road safety to others.

i don’t mean to be a spoilt sport. i remember one episode of mtv’s pimp my ride when the boys wanted to install a flamethrower at the back of a car, and the garage manager said it was illegal so after playing around with it a bit, they took it off. however cool it is, diorang pun tau what is right and what is wrong. apa lagi us over here?

well, its just been the first episode. hopefully, the future ones will do better ya.

*refresh my ride airs on TV3 evey sunday at 7.30pm.

 

the PR insufferables

somewhere between lok-lok, soto ayam and murtabak kambing with potato loaded dhal this week, an interesting conversation sparked about public relations (PR). a claim was tossed to the floor about the ability to tell between a PR smile and a sincerely genuine smile, as well as the impressions they leave.

it is actually pretty easy to tell. after two years of eye rolling, i have my own sirens going off when i encounter a PR insufferable.

*rolls eyes*

before i lose all my industry contacts, i have to put a disclaimer here. these are examples of just SOME of the players i have encountered. i know of a number of PRs who are simply delightful people and a joy to meet and work with over and over again.

but back to our table that rainy evening. notes were compared over real life exaggerated PR conducts. no names were offered of course, but i guess it was enough to learn that the encounters were not singular, but more mutual among those those who need to face these sort of people almost on a daily basis. it was also refreshing to hear everyone laugh about the experiences and have grown to take them in good humour.

at the end of the day, they were just doing their jobs and so were we, kan? and if some people want to keep the relationship that way, then there is no point in getting all anal about it. sometimes you get PRs whom you eventually grow to be friends, and that is nice. but as in all good things, it is something that comes naturally. i know some media members who give me the impression that they are lansi nak mampus pun – but maybe inside they are okay people la. if they tak nak kawan then takpe. ada berbillion lagi orang in the world to be friends with.

i suppose the important thing is to be aware of who you are and how you carry yourself in delicate matters such as public relations. regardless the industry, the PR and their clientele is supposed to be a relationship of mutual advantage. some advantages, i guess, is worth more than others… gosh, is there a pun in there somewhere?

 

rock star on oprah

it was a delightfully twisted turn of events. i am not usually at home in the afternoons to watch oprah, and if i do happen to be at home, i’d be watching jamie instead. but ho ho ho, hari ni, floyd’s show stretched slightly longer and i was flipping channels when i landed in oprah’s – what did i see???

this ain’t a song for the broken hearted!

i am a sucker for rock stars who made it out of the 70s and 80s and still kicking. they have such an honest flavour to them. of course, there are also some good stuff come the millenium – that is, if you know what you’re actually looking for la. to me, so much on radio these days just sounds so… plastic, you know what i mean?

oprah, being the oprah show and all, naturally had the studio filled with women of all ages, and the crowd exploded when oprah announced that a rock star would be on the show and the bon jovi promo video came on. as the camera scanned through the audience, the scenes captured were as if a rock star was crashing into a teenage slumber party – it was a riot!

jon talks to oprah

jon talks about his over 20-year rock career. TWENTY YEARS! and in bon jovi’s words, not ten million or twenty million, but over a HUNDRED MILLION records sold! – and through all this, his kids (he has four now), did not know what their father did. they found out just recently in school. how cool would it be to have a rock star dad? with the big 80s hairdo and all – and it is all him and his!

isn’t that smile just gorgeous?

jon’s mission now is to make giving something hip. he has given access to school to children living in poverty, helped hurricane victims, and even pledged a million dollars to oprah’s angel network – a cheque he presented on the show. oprah sampai nak menangis pun ada, sampai terloncat-loncat pun ada, menari ala dance like no one is watching, pun ada.

jon and richie

all photos here were taken by my camera from my tv. i never said they were the best photos in town. taking photos from a tv means pixelating an already pixelated image. memang the gambar akan pecah. so if you want to get better pictures, videos and transcripts of the interview, go to to oprah’s website.

abang jon, nak ikut abang balik boleh tak?

is that a ‘yes’?