Many of us have had to contend with our own thoughts for quite a bit in these last two weeks. The Covid-19 pandemic that’s decimating the earth has forced a lot of us to adjust to new ways of working, new ways of eating and fundamentally, new ways of existing.

We find solace where we can. I find myself going back to my record collection on a lot of days. …


One record, one memory

Normally with these things, I focus on a certain record’s association with a specific memory I’ve come to cherish but this is one record that’s attached itself to quite a few fond ones at this (hopefully) half-way point of my existence.

I should probably go back to the first time I heard the record. It was back in 2005. I had purchased my first ever issue of the fantastic David Hepworth-pioneered music magazine The Word. It was the August issue, the one with Paul Weller on the cover. I fell hard for the magazine. I was…


You might’ve heard. The latest superhero movie to grace the screen recently is not a movie about superheroes at all, but about one of its finest villains.

The movie follows Arthur Fleck, a social outcast who works as a clown-for-hire in the day but has secret aspirations of being a successful stand-up comedian. As life begins to hem in on him from all directions, we follow Arthur’s gradual descent into madness and his eventual transformation into The Joker, one of Batman’s deadliest villains.

We don’t like our heroes and villains sorted in neat and clear boxes these days. Gone are…


I’ve often joked with my wife that I just may one of the easiest people in the world to buy a gift for.

Not that it’s entirely due to the fact that I am a person that can easily be satisfied by simple things, which is of course true. I can be relatively happy with a pair of boxers for Christmas. Granted I know there are not many people in the world who can buy me that without me wondering ‘why the hell did you buy me a pair of boxers?’ But yeah, boxers. Can never have too much of…


Spoilers ahead. Then again, can a movie like this really have spoilers?

There is a moment in Godzilla: King of the Monsters when I found myself both simultaneously sniggering in ridicule and chortling in glee. It was the moment when Godzilla was called out from his near-death state by the bright and shining Mothra, cooing an ode to him to sooth his nuclear missile-inflicted wounds while raining energy dew and light on him.

Being weaned on kaiju series’ while growing up has helped me develop some appetite for the ridiculous. I mean you have to be when the premise of…


Potential spoilers

And just like that, it’s gone.

Eight seasons and 73 episodes later, the show we’ve come to adore so greatly, Game of Thrones, drop its final curtain call on Monday to a generous buzz saw of criticism, disparaging remarks and general blood-gurgling. Fans have been baying for blood, or at the very least, a remake, since the credits rolled on the first episode of its last season. But try as they may to kick back at the concrete monolith, it won’t budge. It will no longer budge. It’s already set in stone.

There was a bad taste in…


My dad passed about a month ago.

It’s bewildering when you lose someone who was always present in most of your existence so far. They leave a gap in your life’s narrative and trying to fill it directly becomes almost futile for those who try. So we learn to deal, to try and rewrite an alternate narrative that doesn’t include them. But we feel sad as well when we do that. …


A guy opens to the door to his empty apartment. It’s ten minutes after eight so it’s pitch black. The day started at seven in the morning and it has felt every bit as long as it’s been. He flips only the switch to the inner porch light because he needs to navigate through a few pieces of furniture at the front of his house but at the same time, he doesn’t feel like illuminating his entire home. He’s okay with not seeing everything tonight.

He takes off his socks, loosens the first button on his shirt and unclasps the…


One record, one memory

It was between 1993 and 1994. I was a lower-middle class Chinese recluse who was suffering academically, completely inept at any sport and absolutely obsessed with death metal.

Yes, death metal. The genre of music that supposedly comes packaged with goat’s blood, bat’s head and socially maladjusted teenagers. None of this was or is true of course. I for one then was spending my Sundays mornings in church, having home-cooked meals every evening at home and fawning over a girl at school. Basically, I was like any lower-middle class Chinese kid. I did not have bits…


I no longer concern myself with the perceived credibility of the books I choose to read. I’ve abandoned for many years now, the notion that there are books I ‘should’ read, in favor of just reading books I ‘want’ to read. But is that enough to spur me into a voracious reading appetite? Hardly.

On most days I prefer to reach for the remote rather than a book so these books are a testament to mind over matter. I set myself a target of reading 10 books at the start of this year, something I set for myself last year…

adrianyapck

commentator | observer | a mediocre life consigliere, without the blood and bad accent | www.adrianyapck.com

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