the food god

A short story i wrote to get used to my laptop's keyboard.

mouxiao.blogspot.com presents to you... a supernatural-horror-historical-chick flick-epic-thriller drama-

The Food God.

“ ...This! This is wonderful ! Light and delicate on the palate with just that nuanced fruity aroma of dried fruits and nuts. Come, smell it- feel it, diffusing through you- full bodied, with the aftertaste leaving just the dreamy thickness of hot cocoa and the musty earthiness of the Brunei swamps...”

Algo waited for his master to finish his impassioned monologue. He was patient; he had all the time in the world. And when his master was done, he looked down at his share and spoke his mind.

“I don't appreciate the tropical flavours.” Curt and succinct independent opinions were viewed by the fiercely proud and egocentric Master through his widely fluctuating moods as between the two ends of irritation and insubordination.

“Appreciate what you're given! We're just in season! Now's September, the time when the herds have just came back from Brunei; their meat lean and the toxins washed away. You'll be begging for more before the gates are closed.”

Algo glanced skeptically at the prey on the ground. Master had got him as he came by the old forsaken well to drink; it did not took as long as he imagined to prepare their meal- a brief scream from the unlucky sod and the flavours flooded in.

“Is there anything else on the menu tonight?” Asked Algo. He didn't like the taste of the cadet. After their jungle survival course the smell of earth and mud lingered in their essence and reminded Algo of the feeling of chewing sand in his noodles.

“Well there's recruits, not much taste. Unless you eat it raw, then it'll take a good chef to prepare, and you have to eat it with sauce...The meat is fresh, though not much on the nutrition. I'd prefer the late night joggers. I like spicy dishes.”

“So what other choices we have here? The old man we saw just now?”

“That's an encik, his' all salty and tough. Nothing much, these part of the jungle. ”

Master till now has displayed an near omniscient knowledge of the surroundings- hunting grounds, he liked to call it. Algo could not help but ask.

“Just how long have you been here?”

Master grinned as he finished his meal and both of them waved an invisible goodbye to the unseeing cadet as the cadet came to and stumbled away back towards the track. “Not long enough, that's all I can say. When I arrived the herds were already gossiping about our kind. Our seniors did a good job, that's all I can say; they fertilized them up good. Oh, you got to try this!”

It was another column of soldiers trudging through the trees. Master told Algo he liked to season his dishes; he prided himself on his patience and dedication. A few furtive shadows glancing through the trees, just within the peripherals of their vision; a naughty flirt with a hand through an impossible angle among the leaves; playful taps on the shoulder and a climax that even Algo was admit was good- it left them with another meal lying against a tree.

“Now how would you like your special forces? Well done? Medium rare? Rare? I personally like it rare. Now you cut into their consciousness right here- you see how I let the fear lightly poach just the skin? Now you must have the insides tender to retain the flavour. Once these guys lose their minds the human flavour is gone- what a waste, they'd taste just like chicken, then I might as well go possess one...”

Algo crossed his arms behind his back and observed his Master at work. He was new to these sort of thing, and as his master said, was still very much human. He meant it as a crude joke; but ironically Algo found the thought comforting. His master viewed himself as the spirit equivalent of a celebrity Iron Chef and a connoisseur and expected to be treated like one; Algo simply found the jarring leap from prey to predator very culturally disconcerting and surreal.

Master looked up from his skinning of the subconscious. “It's always the same with you rookies. You are afraid of who you've become, only because you've not fully realized what you've become. What do we always say when we're alive? Come, refresh me with your still fresh human memory-”

“What we fear is not fear itself, we are only afraid of things we do not know.” Muttered Algo, remembering a casual quote he learned back in literature class.

“Exactly! And if this guy here know just what we are and what we can't do, then he would not be fearful would he?”

Algo thought about it. “Yes, that's right.”

“Then he would not be tasty, would he?”

The first days of feeding had his conscience screaming the uproarious words of cannibal and monster at his mind, complete with a generous dose of theatrics and exclaimation marks at the end. By the awe-inspiring powers of adaptation Algo had gotten over most of it however. “You're quite right.”

“Then we would starve to death would we not?”

“Aren't we already dead?”

Master didn't bother to clarify; Algo was young and he had a lot of time to learn the ropes. He thought back to his own illustrious history: he learnt the art of spectre ambush on unsuspecting Malaysian fishermen, then practiced scalping on patrolling Japanese soldiers, taught himself cooking with illegal immigrants and finally perfected his own art of fine dining with the modern batches of national servicemen. It was a good existence; much better than the unfulfilling one he had spent living.

He was a chef; he didn't have to bother about the meaning of life when he had conveniently shoved it out of his way. His job was to indulge in gastronomic delights- and hell he was proud of his work.

“Algo, shut up and observe me tender his fear to just the right temperature. Afterwards come here and eat your dessert. Now for special forces, they have very special herbal qualities and you must be careful to contain them within their pysche..."

咱不打行吗。

当兵让我认识到很多人生深刻大道理，当中最为浅薄的是：我不适合当兵。

咋吗啦？你说，当兵被人虐待啦？答：今年有一点。当兵太辛苦啦？废话。当兵浪费神圣时间宝贵生命？非也，非也。当兵经历大家差不多都一样，只是观念的不同。我总觉得当兵经历其实挺充实挺精彩的，虽然迷彩世界中的种种考验暴露了人性最黑暗最阴险的一面， 虽然部队中不少有小人，霸君，见了面总想让我不断问候他家人的三教九流之辈。。。当然世界非纯黑纯白（说过了，迷彩吗）， 印象更为深刻的是那些（狠狠地）感化了开导了教育了我的师傅们。 至今他们传授给我的粗话还有人生价值观仍在耳边回荡。

当兵其实不难-并不是应为我身为过来人才这么说的。因为当兵并不要求你努力，不要求你拼了老命地去达到什么成就。不像上学，咱非得得个全优上个剑桥要不然向屈原叔叔学习什么的。当兵你不行也没太大后果-当兵我才必有用- 部队照样有事儿让你干。不会打仗总会打文件吧？扛不动枪总扛得动咖啡壶吧？唯一失去的仅为官衔或是那披星戴月风风雨雨的日子那种经历罢了， 可当你对从军又毫无兴趣时，有个官，有个玩泥巴的机会，又有多重要？

最折磨人的就是我这一类人- 本来心就不在兵，可虚荣心又非要尽力而为，混个官当当的反动派。最后是当上了个少尉，不过那是我在军官学院中尊敬的长官们循循善诱，耐心教诲的功劳。得感谢这些长官们- 当学员是很郁闷的，心里天气预报天天从阴转云，云转雨，雨转雷电交加。。。可现在回想起来他们是我这两年来的亮点- 是他们唤起了我的责任感，告诉了我作个有原则有良心的人的道理。最后当上了排长， 时常还想起他们的经典教诲，突然意气风发心血来潮，续传授给我受苦受难的弟兄们。

其实我当军官是场注定的悲剧。 我性格如下：能说服我，我会上刀山下火海在所不辞。我做事不愿被规则拘束。我不愿被人使唤，不相信“军令如山”这种军规。可碰巧军队关系到分分秒秒都是生死一线的生意，军规不严酷不行。这点如果我司令讲道理我也会心服口服地混日子了，可又碰巧我被分配到一位感情用事，仗势欺人，横行霸道却又没什么真实胆量，盲目服从条规的小人手里。

看到那观念上的冲突吗？肯定我哪天受够了去硬碰硬。鲁迅大哥说过，不是在沉默中爆发就是在沉默中灭亡。我经验告诉我是，能爆发，随即灭亡。

妈说我就我这性格要是我出生在巴勒斯坦我早就成恐怖分子光荣牺牲了，我也这么认为。

刚当上了官得意忘形，有点独步青云，大道如青天唯我独出的感觉，后被上级虐待，为人做牛做马，虽对自尊心有所打击，可对心理成长倒也好，让我变得更坚强，更稳定，更厚脸皮。也让我认识到当官也并非全是风流倜傥的光辉形象-幕后的辛苦，辛苦了又不受认可，工作时又无缘无故挨骂，挨骂又被骂得像畜牲一样。。。辛酸苦辣，除了变坚强以外，换得的又是什么。
我说军队充实，因为友情真实，因为朋友不是酒肉朋友，而是同经沧桑的难友。训练辛苦，老板流氓，这些苦涩的经历却又像骨头补钙似的，是巩固友情的重要原料。所以说，能有今日那么多好同志， 还得感谢一下我的老板。俺以后在街上看到他打招呼时就在他名字后加个“爷”的尊称吧。我猜部队中的这类纯洁的友情今后难找- 一帮人，三教九流之辈，却又同一个世界同一个梦想，每人关注的同样是那些鸡毛蒜皮儿的小事。。。整天只想着今后当完兵的日子，周末去泡美眉的遐想，为下午的训练郁闷，为早餐的质量而悲伤。。。

像刘大哥唱得一样，朋友一生一起走，这些日子不再有。。。过后的曲子，自己唱吧。

能说我后悔当兵选择的路吗？回想一下当官兵的历程，我得说，这经历是用钱买不到的，获益无法衡量。当芝麻官管人，我悟出的最重要的一点是：有责任跟有责任感，很不一样。

在部队中最引人注目的是两种人：高官敷衍了事，怠慢无能；小官励精图治，默默奉献。前者有责任无责任感，官再大也无人尊敬。后者小责任却有无穷的责任感，人人佩服。

我带我的排，自有一套方法。不一定是最好的；不一定是人人喜欢的。不过我对得起良心。 手下被人欺负，我为他主持公道。班长们有怨言，我帮着去说去。化解暴力纠纷，劝人不要自杀。。。朋友常说， 尽本分就好了。不知一个排长的本分在哪里停止，不过至少我能很肯定地告诉自己-自己尽力了，也没亏待良心。两年后达到的这两点，我猜也够好了。

嘴巴最好给我放干净一点！

Excuse my french, but there's one hell of a goddamned reason why we cuss so much.

6 Days of October

To placate my unquenchable thirst for bloodshed and chaos and to give a satisfactory answer to my tribal warrior sensibilities, I am, in all sweet awesome destiny, has been kenna arrowed to conduct fieldcamp once again. Lamentable last burst of fire or whatever, destiny is just totally Boomz.

I've arrived to the twilight of ORD. And I suppose it will be pretty anticlimactic when I do reach it. It's 6 working days away(6!!!), and when I and my friends toast to the occasion "Cheers to ORD…" we're all wondering the same thing- where do we go from then on? Life goes on, but yet after 2 years of such a structured and regimental life somehow I've failed to plan ahead, to actually take charge of my own god forsaken life once again.

A week long leave doing something useful just made me realize just how irrelevant and thuggish the management style back in army is; it’s a kind of management style that can only exist in its own impregnable, opague bubble; power corrupts, hell yeah. And it corrupts even further when no one dares oppose what's wrong. Maybe it's about the individual and its just my luck; but hell, one is too many.

It's a good thing I'm leaving. The system has not inspired me, and its time I hug the good things I learnt from the army to my bosom and draw the deep dark resolute line with a butcher's knife from the rest. Don't get me wrong; there's lots of inspiring people and things happening and till this day the words and deeds of my instructors from my recruit and cadet days still inspire and motivate me; but conversely I'll never forget the bullshit, tyranny and injustice in a lot of things.

Perhaps this post is a bit too early in coming; considering that there's 1 more fieldcamp to go; but its time to heave these mental baggage out of the way and clear some space for the more refined and civilized things to come. I won't miss the life, I realized long ago I'm not meant for the military life; but I will remember.

Its 6 more days to go, let it come, let it go, and I'll wake up to a day without the need to distribute pushups and having to fake respect to people who've done nothing to earn my respect. And what a great day it'll be, what a great day.

and let's bring it on, with icecream and cocktails and everything nice!

Let's go find a sweet little corner and cry, men.

Random Episodic Thoughts, but toally Rad, all the same.

*

Last week I got myself a sweet little ass whoopin' by him again, and it was again nothing short of humiliating. It was a mistake I made, and I would have felt sorry for it, but once he clobbered me upside down with his pompous sense of self-righteousness and arrogant tyranny, I don't feel so repentant and apologetic anymore.

I felt vengeful and wrathful and at the same time totally helpless and fucked up.

One of my good friends asked me, Why I let myself get bullied.

I asked him, if he's in my shoes, what will he do, what can he do.

He thought about it, and he replied with a lowered head and silent eyes.

Silence is the constant reply, silence is the universal plight, in a world where rank overpowers reason.

*

I realize I'm very offended by people telling me to do things because its good for the group, when I've always been doing it in the first place. I fear it’s my hidden ego angry that my efforts are not recognized, but curiously when I did those things in the first place I was not seeking for recognition, but only because I was discontent with myself simply sitting idly by while others worked.

*

I stepped out of OCS a freshly minted officer with a lot of hopes and aspirations and plans in my head on how to lead my recruits.

I entered my company and very soon my inspiration leeched and fizzled and evaporated into a cold ambivalent and cynical seeing but unmoving stone. No motivation to go the extra mile. I can't even find the voice within me when I want to talk to the platoon about things that once mattered, like a man's principles, like moral courage, like care and compassion, like esprit de corps. Maybe I've lost faith, maybe my own courage is failing me.

It's a good thing that when the fire was still burning I managed to accomplish with my recruits all the things I wanted to do when I first stepped onto the island. To inspire. To lead. To actually do something I'm proud of, to do something other's would be proud of, before my dignity and hope were stomped and pummeled into the dirt.

Its disheartening to realize that many of the things I learnt in this year was a direct result of pain and punishment; I think most deeply and thoughtfully when shit happens. And its just as poignant that the refinement to my character done this year was a direct result of my efforts to be completely opposite the examples I was supposed to learn from.

Prove to the world you're still worth a damn

Every time before I blog I tell myself I must try to write about happy and trippy stuff with a smile on my face, so years from now when I reread my ponderous blog I at least won't disintegrate into a self-effacing puddle of tears by the end of it. But rawr. No. I must scream and yell at the bullshit that comes pelting down. And years from now, a more placid and reserved Mou would look back and think, what an emo boy I once was.

So, without further ado, let's now begin on another furious tirade.

*

Throughout my 3 batches I've taken gangsters and the one common thing I've noticed is that they never dare to face up to their mistakes. Play punk, mess up things, provoke commanders and play big bully in bunk? Yes. Dare to face the consequences of their actions? I suppose in a mental landscape driven purely by the 800horsepower engine of Id they react so fast and furious there's no time to think about the consequences.

So in these 7 weeks 2 guys tried to play the hard punk in my platoon. Acted like they had the biggest pairs of balls dangling between their legs and it afforded them the right to push around those smaller, those quieter. Terrorized the meek, Strong-armed the silent. And well just their luck, behind those meek and silent stands me, and I do not tolerate such bullshit and nonsense.

Now I might have written about something entirely else in this post (e.g. marshmallows.) if these two champions did something else apart from bullying. But one thing I can't stand in my platoon is the subjugation of the weak. 弱肉强食- but if one uses his strengths for nothing but to overpower the will of others, then it’s the most despicable of character, revealing nothing but a deeply rotten core and a void of conscience or morality.

Something deep and powerful shifted inside me when I confronted them and they gave their excuses, their reasons. They never dare to own up to their deeds- deep down they know its wrong, it’s unacceptable, but in their act they chose to do it anyway. Never own up, never repent- instead they bristle with childish, illogical defiance and accuse me of mounting personal attacks on them.

It’s a recurrent trait among them that they will seldom if ever look within themselves for the source of their punishment, just like they will never look me in the eye when confronted with their mistakes.

The test of strength of character and moral fiber is not so much as not making mistakes but rather admitting to it- and they, irrevocably and undeniably in the wrong, hides from the shame and self-reflection that must come before self improvement is made and instead in their obtuse and opaque minds sink into self-pity and scornful rage.

In their self pity they blame me for the punishments. And in realizing the severity of the punishments, they reveal themselves, weak, a lack of confidence, irresponsible and immature.

They called. Pleaded and gave excuses. Teary and pitiful over the phone. Their parents called. To plead for their sons. Told me it's hard enough on them to just serve army, told me they were just playful. Asked if they can be forgiven, just let it be. I replied, 家有家规，军有军法。Tried to trivialize bullying; told me it's just playing. I told her, think about the victim, a month long of suffering, and you expect me to do nothing. If it's your family who's bullied, would you still like it if I did nothing about it.

Asked me if I was their same age. Yes. Asked me if I had been naughty and playful once, expected me to reply, yes, I was just like them. Expected me to through my own history of mistakes, empathize.

I was playful and naughty when I was young and for a time was bullied and marginalized. I know the pains of a bully victim, hence I do not bully, and I will never tolerate bullying. And you, as family of such disastrous offspring, expect me to show tolerance and empathy towards such despicable acts.

Family.

If I behaved like such, I suppose my family would disown me. What a disappointment to the family – already a young adult yet so immature, so foolish, so irresponsible and without any inner strength to tide him over hardships. Still so emotionally weak and childish. reliant on others to solve their own problems for them,. Yet these families- they bargain and they argue and they yell at me. Take a step back and think- your son or brother got what's coming because of things he did. Don't waste your time trying to reduce the punishment for your son, instead bring him home and teach him some things.

I can only say to these gangstas, go grow some balls and own up to your punishment like a man. 20 years of age, its time to hold some responsibility for your own actions. All the lame excuses, the obvious lies, the shifty glances- look in the mirror and ask yourself- what must I do to have at least a bit of integrity and self respect? Stand by your principles and face the music.

If you want to do something, you better be able to take what's coming. Or else, don't do it at all. Don't come crying to me asking for forgiveness, don't try to ask your parents to help you out. Have some moral courage. Have some integrity. All the tough talk and all the insolence- it's all a façade that comes tumbling down.


So make yourself actually worth a damn. There's no rules to follow in your life, but only your principles. So go, and temper yourself some self-respect.