I woke up this morning only to discover that my blog had just sneaked past 10,000 pageviews, after more than two years in cyberspace. I'm not sure whether to celebrate, or turn celibate realizing that Lim Kit Siang and Tun Dr Mahathir hit this number in a single evening with a single, sexed-up post. Of course they manage this feat by corrupt means and machinations, manipulating their firebrand fame and fake positions to run down each other and everybody else in between. It's all hyping and branding and very little, if any, substantive ideas and insights on offer. Think Manchester United and 650 million phantom followers. To be honest I rarely read their blogs but I can safely guess what they always write. Mostly pontificating and self-glorifying tyrant's tantrums. If you're an intellectual swimmer, steer clear of their blogs.
Read my blog instead. Hahaha. Joke.
Recently I found out that somebody had translated one of my posts into Russian. At least I thought it's Russian. Or was it Hebrew? They looked the same to an untrained eye. Although my eyesight is poor, my eyes are very well-trained, with all those training programs (and meals) I was forced to attend in my 30 years with Petronas. I can tell cyrillic numbers and characters when I see them. No mistake here. Russian, 100%.
But why? Why would anyone want to translate it into Russian, of all languages. Why not Swahili, for example? Bad example. Why not Arabic or Aramaic? That's better. And who? I've an Indonesian follower (after intense campaigning and cajoling), but no Russian or half-Russian. Is this a fit and proper translation? I mean, Is it contextual? Or just lateral and literal like "jangan bersetubuh merata-rata dengan saya" (You know the English version)?
I was plain excited and, for the first time since City beat the living daylights out of United, I was very pleased with myself. Who wouldn't, I mean, my work had been translated into Russian, and it's now in the same league as Russian-translated classics like Hamlet, Madame Bovary and Blue Ocean Strategy. You're a loser, Kit Siang. I started seeing strange things: Pussy Riot reading my blog, Roman Abramovich mulling a buy-over of my blog as part of his billion-dollar oil acquisitions, Russian mafias deciphering my blog for secret messages. My euphoric bubble was rudely crushed when Aida told me that Google and all 100,000 Apple apps can now translate any language into any language (except, maybe, Kelantanese) with half a click. No big deal, she added, with a chuckle.
In case you're interested, here's the Russian version of my post. The English title is "In Praise Of Poetry/What Is This Life". Laugh.
I was plain excited and, for the first time since City beat the living daylights out of United, I was very pleased with myself. Who wouldn't, I mean, my work had been translated into Russian, and it's now in the same league as Russian-translated classics like Hamlet, Madame Bovary and Blue Ocean Strategy. You're a loser, Kit Siang. I started seeing strange things: Pussy Riot reading my blog, Roman Abramovich mulling a buy-over of my blog as part of his billion-dollar oil acquisitions, Russian mafias deciphering my blog for secret messages. My euphoric bubble was rudely crushed when Aida told me that Google and all 100,000 Apple apps can now translate any language into any language (except, maybe, Kelantanese) with half a click. No big deal, she added, with a chuckle.
In case you're interested, here's the Russian version of my post. The English title is "In Praise Of Poetry/What Is This Life". Laugh.
