關於 friendliness meaning ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

While imprisoned by Potiphar, Joseph got to know two prisoners who were locked up in there with him: Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer and chief baker who had both been jailed for offending Pharaoh.

The two prisoners dreamed a different dream on the same night which they did not knowing the meaning of.
Using his gift, Joseph interpreted their dreams for them, and it was revealed that the baker’s dream prophesied the baker’s own execution and the cupbearer’s dream prophesied the cupbearer’s pardon from Pharaoh.

Joseph in all friendliness requested for the cupbearer to make mention of him to Pharaoh so that he could be delivered from the dungeon.

It was a fair request—after all he was innocent of the crime which he had been charged, and he had just helped the chief cupbearer to interpret a dream.

However, the cupbearer totally forgot about Joseph after he was restored to his position—again Joseph was forgotten, and his goodness was taken for granted.

The cupbearer was not willing to save Joseph, neither did he have the power to (for he did not have that kind of influence with Pharaoh) and Joseph was completely innocent of the crime.

Many years later, at Golgotha, Jesus was crucified in the middle of two robbers who were also nailed to their own crosses.

One robber continually hurled insults at Jesus whereas the other robber repented, and placed his faith in Jesus:

“And he was saying, “Jesus, [please] remember me when You come into Your kingdom!” Jesus said to him, “I assure you and most solemnly say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”” ‭‭(LUKE‬ ‭23:42-43‬ ‭AMP‬‬)

This time, even though the robber is guilty of his crime, Jesus is both willing to save him and He has the power to save him.

The chief cupbearer, a mere man, did not remember Joseph, but Jesus, the God-Man assured the repentant robber that he would be remembered.

On top of giving the robber the gift of salvation, the robber’s confession of faith is forever recorded in God’s word for us all to read—his prayer to be remembered was answered exceedingly and abundantly above all he could think or imagine—we have such a good and generous God!

When Jesus says He will remember you, He doesn’t just think of you when He’s bored—He gives you realms of freedom from captivity and honors your faith in Him!

Dear brother or sister in Christ, don’t worry if people take advantage of you and then take you for granted.
Everything that we do, let us do it as an act of worship to our Lord Jesus.
For when we place all our trust and hope in Him, He always remembers us and we will never be put to shame.

Prayer for the Day:
Dear Abba Father, help us to center our trust in Jesus.
When we put our faith in man, we will inevitably be disappointed.
But when we put our faith in Jesus, our hope will always have a reward—for He is the Rewarder.
Heal our hearts from every hurt we have experienced and restore us, in Jesus’ name we pray, Amen!

————

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#Jesus #Grace

Taipei Times 英文臺北時報今刊出讀者投書致賴揆：
官方一直示範菜英文，還想列英文為第二官語？

舉例之一：交通部觀光局行之五年的「借問站」計劃英文宣傳名稱「Taiwan Ask Me」是「菜英文」。無誤！

繼之前的菜英文「Taiwan Touch Your Heart」之後，不意外。

最後這一段切中要害：

// Finally, Premier Lai, how can Taiwan effectively pursue the valuable and challenging goal of making English an official language of this country if the ROC government’s own ministries are not even able to correctly compose a simple advertisement in English? //

猜測作者 Xue Meng-ren 很可能是薛孟仁（Dr. Bruce G. Shapiro），逢甲大學外國語文學系副教授。

謝謝薛教授用專業的聲音告誡政府勿失策。

以下全文轉錄投書內容，連結見留言。

-----------------------------------------------------------

An open letter to Premier William Lai

By Xue Meng-ren

Wed, Oct 24, 2018

Dear Premier William Lai (賴清德):

You have admirably and lately led Taiwan in an ongoing discussion about whether to make English a second “official” language. Many articles have appeared defending both sides of this argument.

As it stands, Taiwan uses the traditional style of Mandarin Chinese for all official government, legal and business documents. However, the Taiwanese government frequently uses English in a non-official capacity to facilitate outreach initiatives and better communication with non-Chinese-speaking residents and tourists.

“Taiwan Ask Me” is one such governmental initiative, which the Ministry of Transportation and Communications initiated five years ago.

As a Cabinet-level governmental body charged with communications, the ministry’s standard of English should be a model of English usage for the rest of the nation, particularly the tourism industry, which the ministry also officially administers.

Unfortunately, the ministry has demonstrated that its use of English is both inept and even — albeit inadvertently — insulting.

On the Republic of China’s National Day, on page 5 of the Taipei Times, the ministry’s Tourism Bureau published an announcement about the fifth anniversary of the “Taiwan Ask Me” initiative. This announcement features not only elementary grammatical errors, but also incorrect English usage that renders it meaningless and embarrassing.

To begin, in English, the phrase “Taiwan Ask Me” is nonsense, that is, it has no meaning. It must at least have some defining punctuation, such as, “Taiwan? Ask Me” or “Taiwan, Ask Me.”

The service is supposed to be for tourists in need of answers to questions about traveling around Taiwan, but the phrase “Taiwan Ask Me” absurdly means that Taiwan should ask someone, “me,” something about itself.

And, who does this “me” refer to? Certainly, the initiative does not limit itself to employing a single individual, but rather a team of individuals. Therefore, the phrase should be “Taiwan, Ask Us” not “me.”

This type of error, along with the rest of the advertisement, not only demonstrates poor English usage, but more importantly, it suggests a lack of awareness about what service to others actually means.

It suggests that the initiative “Taiwan Ask Me” is merely paying lip service to a valuable concept of a democratic government that it does not truly value or even understand. This poorly written advertisement reveals that it is more interested in celebrating its own anniversary than it is in providing the service for which it is lauding itself.

The announcement states that the ministry “launched the ‘Taiwan Ask Me’ friendly travel information service” five years ago, and now has 450 Information Stations “that prove warm and friendly services.”

Obviously, the Information Services must provide not “prove” their services. “Prove” is the incorrect English word, unless the intention is for the ministry to pat itself on the back by saying that over the past five years the service has “proved its services are warm and friendly,” but then the grammar is still incorrect.

Furthermore, the use of both “warm” and “friendly” is repetitive, since the words are synonymous in this context. Using repetitive words in this way is a feature of the elementary English usage quite common in Taiwan, but governmental English has no excuse for being elementary.

In addition to offering “domestic and foreign tourists the warmest greetings,” through the Taiwan Ask Me Information Stations, “the service further incorporates rich travel elements.” The phrase “rich travel elements” is verbal nonsense. It correctly connects words that have no discernible meaning. The article does not define or elaborate upon them.

In the following run-on sentence, the article connects these “rich travel elements” with “five unique features,” the first of which is “local gourmets.” Why would a tourist want to meet a gourmet? And what kind of a gourmet?

The ministry probably means “local food” or perhaps “local delicacies,” whereas a “gourmet” is a food connoisseur, that is, a lover of good food. “Gourmets” is an example of another English error common in Taiwan, which is to use the incorrect English word to say something related to that word.

Using Google Translate often helps Taiwanese students make these ridiculous English errors. Unfortunately, government ministers are no longer students. Thus, one expects them to have a better grasp of English, certainly as it pertains to their own special purpose or field of employment.

Together, the “five unique features” mentioned in the article are supposed to “form [a] synergistic local economy of tourism,” whatever that is. Thus, the advertisement uses yet another nonsensical phrase, the meaning of which even the necessary grammatical insertion of “a” does not clarify.

The tourist economy in Taiwan is definitely important, and it is possibly important to connect different aspects of the tourist economy into a unified plan for development. However, linking the so-called five unique features does not create an economic synergy.

Taiwan Ask Me is a free information service. It does not make money or use money to link things together to form economic relationships. Even a government minister should recognize that specious phrases reveal fake values.

For the fifth anniversary event, “Eunice LIN,” (which should be “Eunice Lin,”) “is invited to be the tour guide, and experience the friendliness of ‘Taiwan Ask Me.” This sentence means that Ms Lin is going act as a tourist guide and experience for herself the friendly services of the Information Stations. More absurd nonsense, for why would she be both the tourist guide and the tourist?

Furthermore, the ministry should take responsibility for inviting Ms Lin. Instead of writing “Eunice LIN, a popular TV personality, is invited,” the correct sentence would be: “The MOTC has invited Eunice Lin, a popular TV personality, to be a tour guide.”

Finally, Ms Lin may be a local celebrity, but she is a Taiwanese film and television actor, not a TV personality. The latter is someone who appears on TV as herself, perhaps as the host of a variety show, but not someone who appears as characters in films or a TV series. (“Actor” refers to either male or female, the distinction “actress” being no longer necessary.)

The next sentence in the article is so riddled with grammatical errors, it would take several more paragraphs to explain them all. Suffice it to say that much of what the sentence tries to say means the opposite of what it must intend, which is the major problem with the article in question, especially its conclusion.

The advertisement closes with an egregious insult to all foreign residents and tourists.

Setting aside the grammatical errors and confusing phrasing, the advertisement announces the “Hi Taiwan! Give Me 5 Point Collection Campaign,” which started on Oct. 1.

However, this campaign is only for “all citizens of Taiwan [who] are invited to visit Information Stations and get a taste of the warm and friendly services of ‘Taiwan Ask Me.’”

Apparently, foreign tourists are not allowed to “experience in-depth local travels” and only “citizens will also get an opportunity to win lovely prizes!”

Who in the world is this advertisement for? It would seem to be for foreign tourists and residents since it is in English and appears in the only English print newspaper published in Taiwan. And what citizen of Taiwan needs to read an English advertisement? Surely, any citizen of Taiwan can read all about “Taiwan Ask Me” in Chinese. And yet, this advertisement about a tourism service concludes by disinviting the foreign residents and tourists who are not only most likely to read the advertisement, but also most likely to benefit from the Taiwan Ask Me initiative.

With this appalling advertisement, the ministry makes a mockery of not only the government’s attempts to use English effectively but also its own ministerial responsibility over communication and tourism in Taiwan.

If the Taiwanese government does have the personnel to compose articles in correct English that do not insult English readers and tourists and perhaps visiting foreign dignitaries, then it should hire copy editors with the skills to do it for them. It is certainly worth the expense when compared to the embarrassing cost of losing face, which means so much to Taiwanese society.

Finally, Premier Lai, how can Taiwan effectively pursue the valuable and challenging goal of making English an official language of this country if the ROC government’s own ministries are not even able to correctly compose a simple advertisement in English?

What a conundrum, and where does one begin to solve it?

Respectfully yours,

Xue Meng-ren

Taichung

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

Lyric
Padung Songsang

Melody
BOSSA ON THE BEAT

Director
Weirdvisuel

Producer
Jakkapong banleng

Co-producer
Papavin pongkoon

Light director
Thanawat Tangpraditkun
Cameraman
Theeratuch kitvate

Editor
Sutipon Jareerat

Props
Worawit kraiwitoon
NATTAWAT MADEE
Nuttapong Laepuang
Passakorn songsang
Phakphum songsang

Location
Cheeze.looker.studio
Ppoojiradt

Makeup effect
Chai chuanchyn

-Lyrics

- Mood -

Look at me and listen
Don’t be conceited by your fame
Cos money and fame don’t last
It can crumble if you don’t come down off your high horse

Confident that you’re all that
Arrogant with your ego
Dissin on others like they’re inferior
Bragging about making it
Hell, one day you might fall, who knows

Put it in that thick skull of yours
Nobody is better than anybody
Looking at people like they are trash and you are King
Can get you crushed like you are nothing

Give others a chance
Fool, you ain’t no King
Sneering at the underdog with that face of yours
Actin like you own it all is fuckin embarrassing
No respect is the only outcome you’ll get

Use you head, power that you gain
Don’t use it to beat and kill others to dust
Brag, boast, block, bastardize
When you fall off your horse all you’ll hear is this

hahaha hahaha...

You might be good but don’t be big headed
Give other people a chance
Don’t get carried away with pride
Popularity and glory
Be realistic, there’s up and there’s always down


Think it over, the life that you built
Being kind to others
Will give it more meaning
When you die
Friends and all
Will keep you in their memories

A hot sunny day could end in with rain
Fame can perish, it’s just a cycle, is what I’m told

Accept it, accept it, accept it
Don’t be misguided, don’t be misguided

Facts of life is death and life
Get a grip, don’t lose yourself

Don’t, don’t, don’t hate, no don’t
No, no don’t loathe, don’t judge

Replace it with love, kindness, generosity and friendliness
Take the big out of the head and put it in the heart
Don’t stand in the way

If someone is down
show them the light
Help them find the way
Pull them out from the dark
Don’t just ignore and walk pass
When it’s your turn to fall you’ll be left with nobody
And this will be the voice that haunts you

hahahaha hahahaha…

I have lived the underdog’s life
Won’t budge with the fame along the way
Because nothing lasts forever
Sleep, wake up, life, death
it’s destined to be

When you have honour
Power and fortune
What you preach and say
To others will always go.


One day it’s gone
The pride that you use to own
Not only people
Dogs won’t even throw you a bone


- อารมณ์ -

มองตากูแล้วมึงจงฟัง
อย่าเหิมเกริมในความดัง
ชื่อเสียงเงินทอง ไม่จีรัง
ระวังจะพัง ถ้ามึงยังกร่างและก๋ากั่น

มั่นหน้า ในความเจ๋ง
ผยองตนเป็นขงเบ้ง
เหยียดคนไม่เก่งว่ากระจอก
ไอ้คนที่บอกสักวันมันอาจจะขึ้น
วันหนึ่งมึงอาจจะลงใครเล่าจะรู้

สำเนียกเอาไว้ จำใส่สมองของมึงเอาไว้
ไม่มีใครเหนือกว่าใครบนโลกนี้
ไอ้คนมึงมองเป็นขี้และมึงเป็น King
อาจโดนขยี้เป็นขี้ได้

เปิดโอกาศคนอื่นเขาบ้าง
อย่ามาดหมาเป็นราชาในสายมึง
พอเห็นใครด้อยก็ถากถาง ทำหน้าตึง
สำแดงเดช ว่าของถึง มันน่าอาย
ผลลัพธ์ที่ได้ จะไม่มีใครเคารพมึง

มึงคิด ให้ดี ว่าบารมี ที่ได้มันมา
อย่าใช้มาเข่น มาฆ่า ผู้น้อยให้เป็นธุลี
ยกตน ข่มท่าน ปิดกั้น ย่ำยี
เมื่อไร้ค่า ตกต่ำ มึงจะได้ยินเสียงนี้

ฮาฮาฮา ฮาฮาฮา

เตือนตัวเองว่าเก่งได้ แต่มึงอย่ากร่าง
ดัง เปิดทางคนอื่นบ้าง อย่ากั๊กไว้
อย่าหลงตน อย่าจองหอง
ว่าชื่อเสียงมึงเกรียงไกร
เผื่อใจเอาไว้ บันไดขึ้นได้ต้องลงเป็น
กลับไปคิด ชีวิตที่สร้าง
พระคุณให้คน
มันมักมีความหมาย
เวลามึงตายแล้ว
มิตรสหายทุกคน
จะเก็บไปจดจำ
ตะวันที่ร้อนสุดท้ายยังมีฝนตกทับ
มีดังต้องมีดับ เป็นวัฎจักร พระเคยสอนไว้


ปลง มึงปลง มึงปลง
อย่าหลง อย่าหลง
จงปลงเสียเถิด มีตาย มีเกิด
อย่าหลงเตลิด ให้มีสติ


อย่าชิ อย่าชิ อย่าชิง อย่าชัง ไม่รัง
ไม่ก่ง ไม่เกลียด ไม่เดียด ไม่ฉันท์
ให้รัก ให้ใคร่ เมตตา น้ำใจ ไมตรี
ต้องมีให้บ้าง ไม่ขวางทาง
ไม่หวงก้าง

ใครต่ำตม
จงยื่นมอบแสงสว่าง
ให้เขาได้เห็นทาง
คนล้มต้องฉุดบ้าง
อย่ามัวเฉยเมย แล้วเดินผ่าน
เวลามึงล้มและอ้างว้าง ไม่เหลือใคร
เสียงนี้จะคอยหลอกหลอนมึงอยู่ข้างๆ

ฮาฮาฮา ฮาฮาฮา


คนอย่างกู อยู่มา เยี่ยงหมาแล้ว
จะมีแวว ดังเด่น ไม่เต้นตื่น
เพราะรู้ว่า ความดัง ไม่ยั่งยืน
หลับกับตื่น ตายอยู่
มันคู่กัน


เมื่อยามมึงมีศักดิ์ศรี
มึงมีอำนาจและวาสนา
จะพูดจะจา จะเสวนา
กับใครต่อใคร มันมักจะได้ผล


วันหนึ่งอำนาจมึงหมด
ศักดิ์ศรี มึงหนีออกไปจากตัวตน
อย่าว่าแต่คนเลย
หมาก็ยังไม่มอง

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กดติดตามบรรยากาศทัวร์คอนเสิร์ตและความฮาของ แจ๊ส สปุ๊กนิค ปาปิยอง กุ๊กกุ๊ก ได้ที่นี่
YouTube : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtRzHaTQnfacmDUITEQbgxQ
ติดตามความน่ารักของน้องแตงไทยได้ในช่อง Miss tang : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCf4cJ1Z9qo6aoEjsYWFN7XA
Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/jazzspkk
Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/jazz_spkk/?hl
#เพลงใหม่แจ๊ส #อารมณ์ #JSPKK

What is really being Malaysian all about to you?

Inspired by Tunku Abdul Rahman and his speech during Malaysia's independence.

Culture does not define your identity, it just strengthens it.
You aren't Malaysian because of your culture, you are Malaysian because of your respect, loyalty and commitment the nation and its people.

Selamat Hari Merdeka dan Selamat Hari Malaysia.

======================================

What is being Malaysian all about?
It's not just the clothing we wear
or the food we eat.
It's not just the festivals we share,
nor the different races we meet.
It's not the just the friendliness for each other,
or the traffic we go through.
It's not the lingo we mutter,
or asking the obvious like
"Eh shooting video ah?"
No la, I'm doing kung fu.

You see being Malaysian is not just the way
we communicate or the culture we cultivate.
Being Malaysian is :

Kepercayaan Kepada Tuhan
Kesetiaan Kepada Raja dan Negara
Keluhuran Perlembagaan
Kedaulatan Undang-undang
Kesopnan dan kesusilaan

It is upholding the promises and oaths we give to
God, our country and to each other.
It is the pride and respect we give,
casting aside religion, way of life and colour.

To be united under the jalur Gemilang.
Through the ups and downs and to say
I am proud of my country.
I am proud of Malaysia.
And that,
is Being Malaysian.

==================================

Directors Notes :

Every aspect of this film has a symbolic meaning.

1. The speech/poem itself is a tribute to Tunku Abdul Rahman and his fight for Malaysia's independence.
2. The film itself is meant to look old as to signify the ideas have been there long ago.
3. The clothing is modern as to bring a contrast and also that these ideas are still very much applicable now.
4. If you listen carefully you can hear a crowd in the background which is meant to signify the masses.

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This is the winning video for Segi's Malaysia Day contest :
http://www.veedo.my/competition.aspx?id=11

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Social media :
http://instagram.com/samguw

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For business inquiries :

email : thesammojo@gmail.com