Infinite: Bigger than the biggest thing ever and then some. Much bigger than that in fact, really amazingly immense, a totally stunning size, “wow, that’s big”, time. Infinity is just so big that by comparison, bigness itself looks really titchy. Gigantic multiplied by colossal multiplied by staggeringly huge is the sort of concept we’re trying to get across here.
[the restaurant at the end of the universe]
i finished reading the second part of douglas adam’s hitchiker’s guide series, the restaurant at the end of the universe while waiting to collect my passport last wednesday.
again, i must point out here that this book leaves me the same sorta of unfulfiled feeling as the first book, and then some. the plot consistantly has no direction. there is no exposition and no disposition. there is barely a climax or even a very oomph sorta ending for that matter.
the only nice thing i can say about the book is the oh-kay sorta entertainment value maintained weakly through a sometimes irritatingly unpredictable chain of events and a very good manipulation of imaginative language. heck, i thing the language is all that gives this novel any sorta value at all. the language is witty and creative. it is charming. this is a charmingly languaged book.
so if you are looking for a good story, go find something from dan brown or someone else. but if you are interested in just how insanely logical [or illogical] the english language can get, read this book. and the first book, even.
so just for the language motivation, i have started reading the first few chapters of the third hitchiker book: life, the universe, and everything. oh, and also because i’m still clueless about what the whole 42 thing is all about.
by the way, my passport photo looks awful. curse you instant photo cubicles!!! that is two passports in a row that i look like a foreign maid. argh! i’m so terribly un-photogenic. there goes my chances of ever being spotted as the next miss malaysia. sigh!
my nano attempt is pretty much in hibernation again. i don’t know, man. writing stories to me is not like writing for zines or blogs where the whole style of language is casual and conversational [to me, at least].
writing stories for me is a very emotional process. i actually am very particular about my characters and what they do and what they feel and experience. it requires the right mood, the right frame of mind and more importantly, the right frame of heart. i want to write something what has that whoa effect and not just write just for the heck of a word count quota. don’t get me wrong, i thing the word count quota is an excellent motivator. i am all for malaysian literature and personally feel srongly that there definately should be more malaysians into writing… its just me, i suppose.
my muse has left, woe is me. my word count is barely over 3,000.
i’m such a loser.
i’ve been going around surveying the prospects of buying a digicam over the past few days. going around kl and subang, i realised that the price ranged from rm399 for a 2.0 megapixel thing to the ribu-ribu for one of those gorgeous, sleek and sexy 8.0 megapixel babies. now, i’m blind as a dingbat when it comes to all this mega-mega pixel-pixel mumbo jumbo. but baby, i know irrisistably stylish when i see it and the sony cybershot range is like whoosh! *drool*
but my duit raya this year has suffered massive inflation. this whole aging thing is killing me… uh… financially. in short, i can’t aforrd a digicam:p
i tried to convince myself that a manual, old fashion [well, sorta] film camera is pretty cool also. i mean, i have always liked to frame my pics and put them on tables and shelves and things, right? right! i mean, what’s the use of digital pictures anyway… all you get to go is put them on the net, email it to other people, modify them with photoshop, get rid of the ones that make you look bad, carry them in chic thumb drives… argh!!! i’m so kidding myself.
i want a digi cam. does anyone owe me money?
excuse me while i return to my dillusional state of mind. goodnight!