Machico Von De Angelhouse

3rd of July!!

one day before America's Independence Day is my best pal's birthday;

Chico, my lazy-arse shih tzu doggy.

he's 4 years old now, which means.. 4 times 7 = 28 years old.

geez. he's way much more older than moi.

i'm going to throw a party for him at my casa tonight, there'll be many sausages and chicken nuggets

(you know, the kind of food you throw to the floor for your dog),

and many doggies from the neighbourhood, also a few cats from the gutter.

he's friends with them. don't ask me why.

i'm trying to surprised Chico by inviting his soon-to-be-girlfriend-just-for-a-hump named Oreo,

but she hasn't lemme know whether she can come by or not, she's having this bathing-day at 4pm.

i think that's just her way to fake the fact that she wants to look fabuloso at her crush-on boy-dog.

he asked me to be the matchmaker to get him laid.

poor Chico. still a virgin at the age of 28..?

get a life, mate!

Essence of Life.

things i can't live without:

good sex.

faith.

420 and mind-dumbing jokes.

Oh and by the way..

happy Sunday, dude.. have a good wine!

See what you get. Get what you see.

i told them to take off their shoes.

i told them to cross their legs like that.

i told them "if you're into peace, gimme the peace sign please."

and they did.

insecure securities.

peace out.

Afros stares at the sky

I closed my eyes for a minute just now, on my way home from the church.

(Yes, lads. i DO believe in God).

The mind beneath my subconscious stage saw a girl wearing a triangle shaped dress in black and white colors,

and a high top Doc Martens. She was talking to a Cambra, a camel and a zebra in one form of species.

The Cambra smokes a Camel cigs, and flirting to these two afro girls with bird-nest-like hair

(which reminds me of Elke Kramer).

Too bad, the Cambra didn’t have the chance to ask for their cell numbers.

Those afros are too busy staring at the sky.

On their left side, the sun is shining.

On the right side, the moon is coming.

And then my dad woke me up and told me that we’re home yet.

Geez, Dad.

I haven’t had the chance to photograph the Cambra!!

The Hip Hop Poets

Last friday i went to this Hip Hop Poetry Battle at Taman Ismail Marzuki with a fella.

turns out, the hiphop scene in Jogjakarta are waaay damn wicked, duuude!

the whole concept is great, they had these wall as the background for the DJ set,

where spray-paint-whores do their live graffiti.

i tot i saw Karma Crew doing one of those wall-bombing.

down the stage, is where the live performances from Jahanam, Kill The DJ, Molothuvz from Bandung

and blahblahblah to, you know, do their 'thang' :)

they did this sort of poet version of battle. or battling with poets.

whatever.

most of all, i was pretty surprised by the fact that Jogja Hip Hop Foundation as one of the milestone

for the invasion of hip hop has been developing very very VERY great.

ohh, and i love DJ Vanda and Yudhistira,

there's this show-off-thingy way of performing from them that includes turntablism technic which is kinda..

COOL.

bwahahhaahh.

ono and yao bling

live bombing

the prep

the beginning of the end

yep. that's the long lost Master Iwa K himself, dude.

poerap. poetry rap.

shake what your momma gave you, bitch

whos is das? me forgot. still great though. his act makes my toes dancing in circles.

another live bombing. spray til you drop, dude. or sniffed up til you choked to the bone.

doing some finishing stuff, mate? nice werk. but not as good as kraftwerk.

Ants of The Month

When I was having my morning coffee and cigs in the roof top this morning, I saw these ants marching neatly into a drain pipe. Automatically, Jakarta’s drivers occurred in my mind instantly. You see, when I pay real close attention to those ants, there’s this one ant, only one, who leads all of its army. How did the system works? Is it ‘Ants of The Day’ just like McDonald’s ‘Employee of The Month’, who gets to leads all of them for the day? I think ants have brilliant brains. For such a small creature, it has bigger brains compared to elephants. At some point, it occurs to me that maybe ants are smarter than humans. Well, at least more discipline. Take a brief look at all those bus drivers, taxi drivers, ‘angkot’ drivers, and even ourselves. Can we manage to drive properly in the right order, just like those ants did when they smell my coffee and marched all the way to my self-fulfilling-prophecy mug? I think I want to join them. I’d like to be the ‘Ant of The Day’ to find out how it feels like to lead an army of ants. Then we should bomb The Blue States or Canada. It’ll be fun. You should join us.

Occupation: Media Whore

I’m an intern now.

i write reviews, mocking musicians, drink a lot of coffee, have a good laughs, smokes a lot,

and I have to say yes to all the tasks they gave me.

The ‘problem’ here, is that I’m a workaholic.

I mean like a REAL workaholic.

When you gave me job to do, I’d sit down in my white cubicle and sat still until my work is finished. Enough with the interns’ shiznitz. I captured a few interesting things at the workplace, that maybe other humanoids

wouldn’t mind to pay attention to it.

i found a nigga in a white nigga's cubicle.

all dogs goes to heaven. all cats goes to heaven too. as DOG FOOD.

our very first lunch break.

ah soo. so this is where my white cubicle takes place.

this rooftop is the getaway spot where i can smokes a lot, capturing peoples down there, and staring at.. well, something.

the things you do when you're doing nothing.

my interns-fella, one rare species. sometimes she's damn spiritualistic kind of thingie. other times she stimulates me to do shits. yuck fou but i yove lou.

the puff puff pass venue. niiiice view, mate?!

honor the gods. not their heritages.

Sleeps on Speeds.

a couple candids i took while i'm on the subway, or mass rapid transportation, or kcr, whatever.

are you aware of the fact that people DID fell asleep in an enormous high-speed public transportation?

it's funny though, how they develop such a mindset that sleeping in a public transport

are considered one of their 'common' daily activities,

whilst here in Jakarta, when people fell asleep,

it's considered immoral, impolite, rude, harsh, and blahblahblah.

well in my opinion, people should be allowed to sleep anywhere they wanted to.

especially in public places.

so i can captured them and put it online, so that all the people

in this small world can see their actual faces.

you do realized that the most 'innocent' face expression of all earthicans,

are the ones when you're asleep, right?

this proves that even social climbers, those fuckin rich and spoiled celebs,

or even common poeple i met on the train,

can't always managed to make their faces looks like what they wanted,

all the time.

other candids also taken when i'm in the subway too.

approximately 7 seconds after i took this picture, she fell down.

listening to yer fave lullaby, lady?

granda pop. on pot. LOL. you see, the lady's hair on the left looks very much alike my dog, chico. and the other lady in purple shades glasses reminds me a bit of our oldest president ever. you know, the one that stood up in the podium and almost step up to the table? nyahh. THAT one. passing an advert.

ahhh.

other peoples read and review their works again and again and again.

even after working hours, in a crowded subway train,

or when someone took a picture of him

while he's cross-checking his work.

so this is WHY indonesians keeps crawling for food and clean water.

we are not that kind of hard-worker.

we're just not that into WORKING.

ladies. gossips. criticizing simultaneously. enough said.

human behaviors on a train.

need help, grandpa? scholastic education is their intention for the moment.

poor girls.

you're not aware of the fact that we are all to cool for school,

didn't you?

One fine sunday afternoon.

last sunday afternoon i went to casa, kemang

to meet an old friend of mine.

we always managed to meet up, for a quick session of

brainstorming, exchanging minds, or just playing around making fun

of the people we know or we don't know.

and that's not gossiping.

we're mimicking and imitating, but never gossiping.

sunday afternoons has always been my fave time of the week.

by 4 pm, i usually came out of the cage, driving around

in my car and smoking pot non-stop, pretending i'm a fuckin netherlands

stranded in polluted jakarta.

anyways.

here's a few shots i captured while we we're talking about

love, lust, life, economic climate, orgy, drug dealers,

modus operandi, the culture gap between generation X, Y and Z,

lipstick, simulacra simulacrum, michel gondry and adang daradjatun.

the view from our couch.

the lonesome pillows.

lean back. turn left. there they are. snap snap.

the old fella. a great mind stuck in a perv's being.

three little pigs waiting for the fox to blow away their houses.

Stoned Age.

pot.

lunatics.

radiohead video.

insanity.

mysterious-being.

humanism theory.

we're all gods.

earth.

socrates during church era.

if we could, that makes us a looney or we've revealed the mystery of life?

these are the things i think about right now.

at first i'm planning to write it all down in paragraphs, not pointers.

but then i get too stoned, and now i just wanna grab some beer and

watch scorsese's Taxi Driver for the 7th time.

remind me to explain about all those points above later on.

xxx

Things that pops when you're on pot.

last night i melted and transform myself into another side of the world.

this morning, i caught a note by my pillow where i wrote my thoughts

when i was in the other world. the world of my own. here's what it says:

why did i chose pale orange for my wall paint?

i don't really like orange, you know.

what's happening with the world right now scared the shit out of me.

visionarists and theorists can only provides their visions and theory.

but they can never change the fact that's happening this very moment.

that singularity theory, i think it has some sort of sense in it.

not some sort.

it does make sense for me.

if anything in the earth will became one at last,

what'll happen to the human race?

and the cockroaches?

they're supposed to be the alien, right?

they're able to live even in a radiated-soil.

i bet when nagasaki and hiroshima was nucleared,

the cockroaches still crawls around with their absurd form of an insect.

wait.

they ARE insects, right?

what about dogs?

is it true that they can only see in black and white?

that's like living in the charlie chaplin era.

for your whole life.

for Stevie Wonder that might not be a problem at all.

but for me, blahh.

why i never have the time to make a brain?

i have my bulging brain kit.

i may need a spare-brain.

oh my oh my.

i have to.

what if the brain cells in my brain dead?

who knows if they're already dead and disfunctional right now?

what if i can't think for my own future?

is it okay to pay someone else to figure out what to do with my own life?

there's nothing immoral about it, right?

my finger nails.

they're orange.

maybe that's why i painted my wall in pale orange.

no no. i don't think so.

i think i decided to paint it orange because when the sunlight burst into my room,

it'll make a great effect.

now i remember.

remembrance.

remembrall.

can you SMELL memory?

can you smell happiness?

can you smell God?

can you smell smells?

S M E L L.

what a waste of the letter L.

even if we only use one L instead of two, it has the

exact sampe pronounciation.

singular.

scary.

sensible.

dammit, i think i'm too stoned.

I'd rather post this than read another textbook.

Yoko mourns because her 8 new born babies and her beloved husband left her

all alone in this world of massacre, for good.

John died this morning.

An evil filthy cat ate him.

And her babies can’t stand the idea of being born into this world

of evil surroundings, so they decided to leave.

They sure look happy when I saw their corpses this morning.

And those ants crawling all over look happy too. A girl tried her best to make believe that her dream boy is all she ever needed.

Turns out the reality kick gave her a strong wills that persistency

and time is not enough to determine whether a guy is worth falling in love with.

Or not.

And she’s still twirling with her mind upside-down how to solve all this without hurting someone’s feeling.

Maybe she’s feeling a bit heroic at the moment. Another girl believes that the same guy was the love of her life.

And she still thinks that way.

She believes that in order to make it happen, she has to let go of him.

She said that love = sacrifice.

And she’s dying to meet his dog.

Its name starts with a V.

no, it’s not Vendetta.

It all brings her memories of the good old times she spent with him came back to life.

Even if it’s only in her mind. Which reminds me of my lazy-ass shih-tzu.

He’s peeking inside my bedroom right this very moment.

What do you want?

Another leftover from the dining table?

I gave you three pieces of minced meat a few hours ago,

you greedy fur ball. These are the things you’ll do when you’re looking for other activities,

any other activities,

besides doing your assignment about the basic object of philosophy,

using 3 questions about ontology: Watching the last episode of your fave mind-dumbing cartoon series which

helps a lot if u need to develop your cursing phrases and words. Taking pictures of your left-alone mother hamster in her cage,

trying to capture her most sad angle of all. Myspacing.

And then you’ll realize that “finding new cool people” is considered “bright-ideas”

by tom (the guy from myspace).

Then you’ll think about it.

Then you’ll laugh at yourself for even thinking about it. Digging over your book collections,

trying to find something that you forgot what it’s about already,

and read it again cover to cover. Wondering about the fastest way to make Scooby snacks or sleepy hot chocolate.

Make a few phone calls, and then decided to let it go. Chat with an old fella from who lives abroad about how the new-rave thingie

is taking over the music scene in jakarta,

and planning on a silly movement called "the anti - new rave" Posting a blog about the things you do when you want to avoid your assignments.

Apparently, after you’ve done all those important things,

you’ll realize that the assignments aren’t going anywhere.

Okay okay.

I’m working on it.

i wish i can draw what lies beneath my mind.

when i was five years old, i took this drawing lessons. but i never get the highest grade from the teacher. you see, when i was told to draw a man, i'll draw the simplest form of man; a stick figure. but still, i have many characters in my mind, usually they speaks in space-like-but-also-sounds-like-chirps languange, and most of them had huge dramatic eyes. sometimes they told me a story about my past, like a journey to the past. another time they told me about my dreams in real life.

well, these are a few so-called-drawings from my mind, which my hands can't coordinate very well to make it real in a metaphysic form of imagination. i'll post my other drawings in my "Book Of Dreams" in the future. u'll get to see the inside story of a trippy mind in subconscious spacetime.

Subspace.

last weekend i finally get off my lazy arse and accompanied a friend to spin some records, along with my long-lost-bitch. i surely need some sort of "refreshments" after spending most of my days laying around doing nothing lately. i developed quite an intense relationship with my pillows, midnight happy tos and snickers and dvds. sigh.

my toes siblings.

boys DID gossips. they chit between chats.

mr. some-guy-i-dunno-what-his-name-is-but-i-captured-anyways

the kind of pics u shot when you're feeling hyper-active. or plain wasted.

mr. nicotine

i see skies in clubs. beautiful-fake-plastic-skies filled with cigarettes smokes.

monsieurs attack.

purple toads lover.

YM and CA.

mars between venuses.

want some doobie? i'm scooby.

mylo.

kal's twirls.

i captured people who's capturing others.

a silly mammoth went out on a saturday night. the mammoth drinks a lot. then she became a whore-mammoth. a walking contradiction. miss nicotine and monsieur ditto.