Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Low key.

We may not be noble knights perched atop mighty steeds, sword and armour always in hand; nor chiselled-jaw soldiers behind enemy lines, brows forever furrowed into knots of grey.

But surely that does not mean that we are any less useful in this modern chessboard of life, where we can either be pawns ruthlessly sacrificed as and when necessary, or be righteous rulers who hold charge of our own destiny and making.

The most important decisions that change the lives of others almost always lie with a stranger: the no-nonsense judge with a well-worn gavel, the professional recruiter who invites you over for a job interview, the strict officer giving a seal of approval to your scholarship application.

I am good, and I am grounded. Take a chance on me, you plead.

But things are never going to be that easy.

Details of this entry.Sunday, September 28, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Hazel, Tweedy


Iced lemon tea.

It would seem that I have been inadvertently gifted with more than a couple of lemons lately, all from various sources.

Some may have been scooped out of the sea like a message of doom in a rusty old bottle; others simply fell off the tree and rolled over to my feet nonchalantly, as a cat would when it needed a good, warm rub on its belly.

But it worries me that they are just not being turned into huge pitchers of cool lemonade fast enough.

Then again, of course I do not own a modern juicer with complex multi-purpose functions that can but only serve the eclectic lifestyles of the rich and famous.

Too often have I missed out on the things that truly matter: bright yellow sunshine peeking out from behind cotton-candy clouds; technicolour rainbows forming a secret archway to the great unknown.

So much so that when the spring showers finally begin, I may no longer know which side to choose anymore.

Details of this entry.Sunday, August 31, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Standing in the Sun, Howie Day


Like a broken record.

Three decades on, and yet there is nothing to show for.

A large canvas spread across the sand, blank and clean with only the fondest of memories to draw upon.

There may have been plenty of blood, sweat and tears, and double, double toil and trouble; but even with an acute sense of timing and a quick dash of luck, it still may not be enough.

Reality is hardly a game where you simply match candies of the same colour, freely buy vowels and sell consonants, and casually pick up gold coins left behind in a village tavern – and then expect words of victory to flash across the screen before breezing through to the next level, as though it were one of life’s many privileges.

Nothing stops for man and time, but I find myself increasingly longing for the good old days when I could stop and smell the roses, and not have to keep up with the Joneses.

Details of this entry.Thursday, May 01, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Lean, The National


Dodge this.

Digital rain.

There was that fond sense of familiarity usually associated with finally meeting a long-lost friend, but goosebumps continued to race along my skin during that recent one weekend.

I could still remember the lines as clear as day, right down to the exact words that they would say.

I could still recall the scenes that would come next, aside from some nagging moments that left me perplexed.

And yet, it felt as though I was watching the movies for the very first time. There was plenty of noodle baking over outright fiction, despicable truths and virtual realities; some mind-numbing dialogues paired by countless jaw-dropping visuals; and the occasional adrenaline rush that came with gravity-defying stunts seemingly reserved only for super flexible yoga practitioners.

It could be that I was looking at them from a different perspective; with the eyes of one that is now older, wiser and burdened with all the worries in the world – in stark contrast to the younger, careless and unscrupulous teenager I once was.

But watching the movie trilogy at one sitting, back to back, makes it a wholesome new experience from start to end – like a secret coming of age, or the completion of a certain rite of passage. Of course, it soon became apparent that I had invested more than just six hours of my time, for at some point, it finally dawned on me that it has been fifteen years since the release of the first movie.

Fifteen long years.

Was I ever that young once?

Now that was mindblowing.

Details of this entry.Monday, March 31, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.In Reverse, The War on Drugs


For the kids.

Another magical night.

“Look, I even did a t-shirt for you guys! You know what this is, right?”

When he came out from his brief but penetrating gaze with a knowing smile, I swore I could have seen a bulb light up at the top of his head.

“… a pink rabbit!”

Ah, what I would do for another night with you. Thank you so much for the memories, Mr Berninger.

Coming next: yet another biased review from a starstruck fan.

Details of this entry.Tuesday, February 25, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.,


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