The 6^th

For That Light

There is darkness in everything,

And this is all that I can say:

These are the Darkness you endure

For that beautiful Light

***

In which we also talk a little about Valentine's Day, and Zombie Strippers.

(Right now, I’m feeling like I could wrap myself in sleep and rot there until morning, when obligations do its voodoo and I stumble to work, moaning and giving everybody the stink-eye. I’m brain-dead in the way that I wanted to be brain-dead, because there’s simply no reason to be brain-alive, when it’s mostly this emptiness to face. So yeah; in all technicality, I had just committed brain-suicide).

It was Valentine’s Day. I don’t quite remember how it came to be, but Valentine’s Day is the day you celebrate Love.

But everyone would tell you that Love is celebrated everywhere, and all the time. Valentine’s Day would be that capitalist, manipulative, consumerist occasion created to celebrate something pointlessly celebrated throughout so that the florist industry doesn’t die, excess of chocolates don’t get turned into construction material (it’s the truth, people) and Hallmark can still finance their TV channel. So what’s the point?

To tell people to celebrate Love.

Because – believe it or not – people have a tendency to forget about celebrating things. We already have a hard time remembering birthdays and anniversaries. And I may try to elaborate more, but when was the last time you celebrate things without being reminded of it?

Do you celebrate Life every day; live life to the brimming fullest, knowing birth and death and the middle of it, until your birthday? Do you celebrate your mother’s love, your father’s dedication, until Parent’s Day came about? And what of senior citizens, of war veterans, of our cats and dogs and famous people who did something we don’t remember but we’re grateful anyway?

What of Love?

Truthfully, we all celebrate daily, too. So long we live, we celebrate. We just don’t celebrate everything all the time, because there are simply too many things to celebrate. And because we all do more than just celebrate (we mourn, we worry, we procrastinate, we eat, we daydream, we reminisce, etc), there’s simply no time. That’s why we needed days like Valentine’s Day, to tell us that Buddy, You Best Appreciate Your Girl. Because She’s The Best Girl Ever.

You might do something for someone every day, or you might not. And when a day tells you to do it, you do it, and it means something. And even if you’ve done it every day, doing it that day makes it even better.

Capitalist, manipulative, consumerist… yeap, it’s there. But it’s really there anyway, because capitalism feeds – in one large segment – on the industry of Celebrating Things.

So you might have your Valentine’s humbuggery, or you might scoff at the pointlessness of it, or the day might’ve hurt you with memories. But, maybe, if you’ve find one way to go out and celebrate Love, in all of its many forms and sizes, then maybe it would’ve have been more than Just Another Day.

I know I had.

But of course; I could’ve gotten the meaning of Valentine’s Day wrong. And if so, let’s just ignore everything and then, well, move along.

****

I read on Twitter, which led me to read some of the news, that the government of this country in which I reside in (and that’s Malaysia, though I know my profile says I live Somewhere) has banned Muslims to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Their reason was that they were worried what while the people are reminded to celebrate love, they would also be reminded of having sex. Especially before marriage.

And that’s morally wrong, of course, depending on the way you look at it. So I can understand. Maybe. No. I don’t, actually. Because I think people are reminded about having sex so long as they feel like it. But no. Wait. I should stop. Because I lack the mental capacity and comprehension to make a coherent, worthwhile comment or argument. But yeah.

I just think it’s sad.

For everyone.

Especially the florists.

****

I also found out that they’ve arrested people who celebrated it anyway.

Some misconstrued writer could’ve reported it by saying; “People arrested for celebrating love.”

Of course, the writer was misconstrued. He might’ve also gotten the idea of Valentine’s Day wrong.

****

I spent the day after Valentine’s Day watching Zombie Strippers.

Wrong kinda eating you might be thinking there.

I did it because I needed it to fill a void. The title and the premise of the movie might suggest to you of what sort of void I needed filling, and I would leave you to these suggestions. So suggest away. 

Anyway, if you like B-movies, watch it.

If you don’t like B-movies, but will appreciate parodies and homages of it, watch it.

If you don’t like B-movies, don’t really care for parodies but want some mindless fun and a lot of tits, watch it.

If you don’t like B-movies, or movies in general, don’t watch it.

I won’t guarantee that you’ll like it, but like everything else that titles itself boldly, with all honesty of what it’s trying to show (it’s a movie about Strippers, who are somehow Zombies), you might find that there’s a lot to love, or a lot to hate.

I love it. Mainly because it was what it is, and the makers knew exactly what they wanted to make and made it pretty damn well. It’s silly, it’s serious one part and then subverts it in another, it’s deliberately stupid, it has loads of gore, it has sexploitative amount of women bodice shown and it’s also a thinly veiled socio-political commentary. And it has Zombies. And Robert Englund. And strippers, who stripped. You don’t need another reason.

(And a little trivia: the movie’s title is, apparently, Zombie Strippers because they found out that it’s the most marketable B-movie title, taking into account of the most marketable aspects of B-movies. And I know you want to watch it, just by the sound of it).

(Don't deny it)