Creativity bites

I'm writing about this in view of the troubling events that have kind of affected me, but not in whole as I need to get my thesis done by now actually. But I think I needed a place to talk it out, to discuss about it before I shut myself back to the world of academic writing.

It has something to do with the nerve of the country that aims to suppress what's left of creativity in this country and I don't find that pleasing especially when I came from a background of arts. Never mind the fact that I went to a Science stream class, but I've dabbled with music, drama, speech, and writing long enough to know sometimes it struck a nerve in my chord on the way the government treats the arts.

You know those stupid writing competitions the newspapers have had organised, sometimes winning an ever so awesome trip to Dublin? Well, guess they all did not turn out to be either journalists or columnists do they? Just another regular folk who has had their 5 minutes of fame. And then, there are the people you would remember for the articles they write in the newspaper. I have profound to love Chong Sheau Ching's column (still do. No one writes like her anymore. I need to find that book of hers that compiles all her old column articles.), even though she wasn't someone whom is known to join writing competitions, nevertheless was known around as an author in Malaysia.

And you know the film industry and their brouhaha over the new censorship rules, regulations, bureaucracy, hypocrisy and all, they are still not able to develop that very niche market in Malaysia as of yet: English, like really, English, TV Series that are actually good.

Marc kind of aspired to become a scriptwriter. He studied the subject called screenplay and scriptwriting, and since then he has been really fascinated to know how to write a script, even contemplating sending the scripts to some companies for reviewing. Of course, being a current scriptwriting rookie his first few scripts do look really stereotypical (I'm still trying to get him to think outside the pop culture box. He on the other hand, tries to get me into it >_>), so that is forgiveable.

Some time ago there was this filmmakers who would come to Malaysia to give the supposed workshops. Of course, in the end it was a no go due to the lack of time we had left after the short semester (and it was expensive as hell). There was this competition though, a scriptwriting competition. Joy! Marc could've secured his chance and get something published.

Except: the theme was, 1Malaysia.

Not to say that Marc didn't try. He tried, he thought hard on how to emulate a script based on that theme. But it was too hard: First of all, it's 1Malaysia, to him it is a boring subject to start on. He couldn't write it out, he just couldn't.

Before you go on to say that he's being lazy and all that, how are you going to come up with something 1Malaysia? Would you actually be able to think outside the box to recreate something with a 1Malaysia without the flair of including every single race you can find in Malaysia with happy smiling faces? If that is what you can think of, congratulations, you've been brainwashed till you've grown stale to this.

The second time he felt like this was when his lecturer posted an offer from an institution, a story pitch. It was yet, something about 1Malaysia again.

There are two ways to look into this situation.

1. The 1Malaysia brand is hot. People have done 15Malaysia before and was widely accepted by all races. This new brand is a definite seller, or so the company thinks, that is why the funds goes to the person with the 1Malaysia script.

2. 1Malaysia is the only thing workable around the film censorship board, and the government. It's a machine designed to try and tell the people how much they need this, 1Malaysia, while desperately sweeping the rest of the forgettable and highly intelligent scandals under the carpet. Because, you know, certain Malaysians are stupid like that.

But what it is, congratulations to the way they try to suppress the creative arts.

I admit that I'm not the best writer around. Heck, I'm impressed with my friends who churn out short story after short story for the annual MPH writing competition. I don't have the gutso or the capability of verbal diarrhea. I've tried my hand on writing analyses on this blog before, shamefully, you can dig through them if you want to. And I'm definitely not somebody who can write when there's this "theme" thing hanging over me giving me borders even before I could sit down to think of a concept. But to do that to aspiring scriptwriters, I find it a disappointing way to kickstart a career choice.

And that is why you see Malaysians flying off to California to write/direct/become visual effects/SFX people working at big old Hollywood. Sure, the climb's higher, but it's better than giving the first step climb so steep like the Malaysian film industry does.

Creativity is something honestly, I don't know if I have anymore, to be brainwashed, squeezed out of my juices, and then dumped aside to absorb spoon feed information. I used to have wilder imagination back as a child. Although truth to be told my dad's death was partly the second reason why I've lost what innocence I have, or whatever crazy imaginations I have about myself, the world and other little things. But thank goodness for the other little things, like music, like drama, that I've maintained that bit of kookiness and swear to never let it go ever.

But what about the rest of the individuals struggling to maintain that kookiness of theirs? What can they do since to each his own, I can't transfer the experience I've been through so that they could do their part of being creative. And honestly, not everyone is creative. I won't call myself creative; I call myself crazy, for the random spurs of poetry, for the infinite anger inside, for the melancholy that constantly surrounds me.

Maybe my wish was to know that Marc's choice to not write that script was justified, that in the end it was only a "feel good" factor of seeing yet another youngster shooting the skies with a delicate script having their brands all over it.

In any case, here's my bout of writing, I tried helping him with the scriptwriting so this is how I'm going to start:

You are a Chinese youngster (male or female, your choice) walking down the streets. And you see this little boy (any race will do, the more obscure the better) crying at the end of that street, you stopped to console him. What's weirder, you see him holding a number one.

When you asked, the little boy cried harder. He says "I'm trying to look for another one to give to,". He shows you it. You smiled, asked "Can I have it?"

He shook his head, and looks at you "Look at you, you are split into three!"

You grew puzzled, you look at yourself and then you said "I'm not split, are you sure you are seeing things correctly?"

Then he asked "What are you?"

You said "A Chinese". Suddenly, you saw the Chinese side of you floating out from your original body, you grew stunned, and asked the boy "did you just see that?"

The boy says "see? You are not one! What are you?"

You said "A Christian". And then you see the other part of you floating out practising Christian rites. You are shocked again.

The boy shouts "Not one! Not one at all!!"

You grew impatient with the boy and says "Listen you...."

The boy asked one more time "What are you??"

You really feel like slapping the boy at this point, but in patience, and because the rest of the people along the streets ignored him, you answered "A student".

The boy's tears showed again. "Not one at all."

You got frustrated and asked with impatience "What are you crying about?"

He said "no one is One here. Look around you now, do you see anybody with one?"

You turned around and you're surprised, almost everyone carries their different identities with them. Some have four, five, six identities all onto them at once. You were surprised you've never seen this. In fact, you are surprised that in those identities, no one calls themselves a....

"Malaysian. I want my Malaysian" the boy mumbled in between tears.

You grew sad with him. You took his hand, and said "Come on, teach me. Teach me the meaning of being one, with this country".

You took his hand and both of you walk down the street. Somehow, forgetting you took the hand that holds his number One. You found it.

-End-

I know when I tried telling this to Marc, he said it was too abstract. I agree, but it's not like I'm the one writing the script LOL. I just came up with this concept.

The youngster shown here could have been any race actually, but I put Chinese because I'm most familiar with being called a Chinese. Not because I dare not put a Malay or an Indian. and the little boy's race, well it could've been anything, in fact the less is known about his race the better. His skin colour is so mixed you have a hard time figuring out exactly who or what is he.

Why a relationship between a youngster and a boy? Simple, a youngster, to me, is someone who could still be saved, could be taught the values of being a Malaysian without all that veil of hype, and they could definitely stop being so ignorant about their country and start doing something. And the reason why I show a little boy is because, I think and I still feel like one, that a child always try to do something heroic, and of course everytime he or she had thought of something, the adults always beat them down, crushing their hopes. Well, this child wants to be a Malaysian before getting separated into those little personalities the grown-ups in Malaysia are holding. I want to make sure he gets his wish unlike mine who's dreams has been crushed

Why this kind of sad story? I believe even if we call ourselves Malaysians we are still largely driven by the stupid "pack" mentality of a Chinese, a Christian, a Buddhist, a Malay. We will not see through those veils of keeping those comments away and instead should aspire to do more on respecting each other to achieve true harmony. I don't buy the 1Malaysia brand that has been recycled by ths PM's predecessors. Even if I believe in 1Malaysia, it should be something deeper, something definitely deeper than just purely scratching the surface of harmonious relationships.

And why I chose to write this out now? Because I've read too much, too much of youngsters who give up loving this country even before they've tried. I've read blogs of people who truly want to believe in Malaysia but could not even trust themselves to say that Malaysia is a perfect country for security and harmony. These are the people who were disheartened by the talks of these yabbering politicians whom, I seriously believe, have no idea what do they talk about when it comes to making policies. It's strange, to see all this people my age getting disappointed over things they think they cannot change anything in this country.

But I alone, cannot stop this. Even if I have looked in this society through a looking glass, I couldn't stop this impending danger of losing the brightest minds to someone else. In fact, I might as well just join them.

But maybe, just maybe, I'll return. When I've accumulated enough experience to call myself a journalist where people can take my words seriously, then I will return in hopes to make this country a better place.

But until then, creativity is losing out to the outside world. Having creativity bites.

And somehow, I have the feeling, my script concept will be spiked. Just saying.