Could have done better?

Adolescence (2025)
Miniseries (4 episodes)

https://kinocheck.com/show/s23/adolescence

This miniseries has everyone buzzing. It is likely regarded as the most surreal creation to grace screens since 16-year-old Linda Blair portrayed Regan MacNeil in the 1973 film, The Exorcist. This is Netflix's latest blockbuster offering. The subject matter is undeniably dark, involving a 13-year-old student murdering a fellow female student as a result of cyberbullying. 

The miniseries features the filming of each episode in a single shot. While it may feel sluggish at times, this approach enhances the story's immersion as the case unfolds.

The essence of the story begins with a police raid to apprehend a teenager suspected of murdering another teenager. From that moment, it evolves into a police procedural drama as the legal system processes the accused. It showcases the overwhelming emotions experienced by everyone involved: the police officers, the supportive staff, the lawyer, the social worker, and the psychologists. For most of them, it is their first encounter with a young person embroiled in such a heinous crime. This situation is a devastating blow to the accused's parents and sister, who struggle to comprehend the idea that their beloved son could commit such an act.

As the series progresses, we learn more about the family dynamics and the atmosphere within the school. Much has changed since our own school days. Children now possess a private portal to the outside world, a realm filled with malevolence and deceit that threatens to ruin their futures. No matter how much strict discipline and guidance are instilled in them, they lead lives of their own. Cyberspace offers a secluded environment where anything goes. The thin line separating decency from insanity becomes increasingly blurred. What was once considered taboo has now gone mainstream. Children are vulnerable; they possess the illusion of agency and believe they can make their own choices. They misuse privacy for all the wrong reasons, constructing an impenetrable barrier around themselves. The adults' words of wisdom can sound harsh, digging them deeper into the abyss. With alien neologisms like incel (involuntary celibacy) culture, the manosphere featuring harmful gender ideologies, and themes such as the '80-20 rule', schoolchildren are lost in their quagmire of finding a place in their universe.

When the proverbial excrement hits the fan, everyone will be in for a shock. They will ask, "How did our innocent little child transform into such a monster?" Parents will start to question where they went wrong. Could they have done better? These parents faced greater hardships from their own upbringing and external pressures, yet they turned out fine. Why can't their offspring, with all the modern conveniences at their disposal, manage to be resilient and not easily triggered? No one seems to understand.

No cats or fishes were used!

Sweet Bobby: My Catfish Nightmare (Documentary; 2024)

Director: Lyttanya Shannon

This is an unbelievable case of catfishing that went on for ten years. It was initiated by a close relative for no apparent reason. For those out of the loop, catfishing is a new way to deceive the unwary by creating a fake online profile and building a relationship. The profile will use fake pictures, and the final modus operandi is to swindle people of their money. No money was transacted to add more perplexity to the situation narrated in this documentary. 

Kirat Assi invested her ten youthful years in a long-distance relationship with a social media character whom she thought was an acquaintance with whom she had one casual face-to-face contact. The guy, Bobby Junda, was the brother of her second cousin's boyfriend. 

All the people in the story are from the small Kenyan Indian Punjabi community in the UK. Kiran had a fallout with her childhood boyfriend when she was about 30. She had her life in order, though, working as a DJ on a local radio.

Kirat starts communicating with Bobby online. Over the years, Kiran sees him meeting up with his wife, having a child, and separating from his wife and then suddenly, Kiran is told that Bobby has been shot. Then, again, through communication with other 'common friends', it is said Bobby was in New York under the witness protection programme. 

What followed after that were prolonged hospitalisations, multiple surgeries and loss of ability to speak. The question of how a person under the US witness programme could still be with acquaintances was raised but was given a wish-washy explanation. Love soon blossomed, and both confessed their devotion to each other, all online, one in the UK and the other in New York. Soon, Booby's toxic nature manifests, affecting Kirat's mental and physical health. Nevertheless, she lingered on. The pressure to be married was palpable as her biological ticking, so she thought.

Almost a decade into the relationship came the much-dilly-dallied meeting in London. Again, Bobby delayed his meeting even though he was already in London. Kiran engaged a private investigator to track him down. Hold behold. This leads to the home of a particular gentleman named Bobby Junda, whose resemblance to the social media profile is uncanny. He appears to be still married to the same girl he is supposed to have divorced with a child. This is the real Bobby Junda, and Simran, Kirat's cousin, stole his identity.

Then came the police reports and investigation. Kirat's cousin had been using Bobby's profile with a fake account. Not only that, but she also created multiple fake profiles to build a big group to outwit Kirat. When confronted, Simran refused to comment but apologised in private.

For all her shenanigans and the emotional and physical trauma she caused, Simran got away scot-free. Simran herself had to endure embarrassment when her mischief was exposed, not to mention the community's gossip. In those ten years, Simran lived a whole life with a high-paying job, getting married, and having a child. Kirat, now in her mid-40s, feels she has missed the boat of finding a life partner and having kids. These are important to her. She thinks that all the pointless waiting and the building of a hopeless dream happened because of Simran's actions.

Unfortunately, the UK legal system does not have a provision to prosecute someone for catfishing. It is not a criminal offence.

* Catfishing is the fabrication of a false online identity by a cybercriminal for deception, fraud, or exploitation. It is most commonly used for romance scams on dating apps, websites, and social media platforms. The 2010 film Catfishing popularised the term. It is said that catfishes used to be placed in the same tanks while transporting cod. Catfishes are natural enemies of codfish. By keeping them together, the cod will swim around, scared for their lives. Hence, the cod will appear more energetic and fresh.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Real courage is in living!

Sajini Shinde ka Viral Video (Sajni Shinde's Viral Video, Hindi; 2023)
Written & Directed by: Mikhil Musale

People who profess that humanity is very much alive have not been trolled on social media before. Just because they are behind the cloak of anonymity, perhaps with a fictitious name or a fake account, they have the fortitude to bait users into a vicious argument with the intent of causing hurt to an intended person or parties. It is a cyberbullying. The problem is sometimes it is self-made. We put too much information on our social media; sometimes, we need to think. Not everyone out there is going to laugh with us with our goofiness. Many create mountains out of molehills. And not everyone is going to handle criticism kindly.

Pew Research Center reported in a 2022 survey that 46 % of U.S. teens aged 13 to 17 have experienced some form of cyberbullying, which may include trolling. Amongst adults, what goes online is scrutinised by others and made a big deal, and soon, netizens will deem it inappropriate. Soon, the unthinking public, with the might of numbers, like sheep, would demand punitive actions without applying rational thinking or mindfulness.

Adult behaviour outside working hours is no longer his private affair but is scrutinised with a fine-toothed comb to be judged and given exemplary punishments. Only some have the tenacity to withstand all these pressures. Before due process is complete, netizens ripe with cancel culture go full-throttle to crucify the accused. First, people exhibit their pictures to share their joy. Next, these same pictures bring them misery. How ironic.

In this movie, a teacher had her partying picture online. It was her birthday, her friends got her inebriated, and she started dancing on the bar top. Her picture was taken by someone who inadvertently made it online and went viral. The administrators of her school, parents of her students, her parents and her fiance were livid. It was out of character. The school board wants to terminate her services. Then, she goes missing after writing a suicide note online. 

Life is a challenge. It just became more complicated with connectivity. It was meant to make people more informed with information at their fingertips. Still, nobody thought it would be like this - causing anxiety, depression, risk of being manipulated by business moguls and being a pawn in geopolitical wranglings.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

The hurtful zap of the keyboard

Credit: depositphotos.com

The social media wants us to believe that there is only One Truth, the one that we seem to be churning. The constant words of approval and barrage of 'likes' make us convinced that we are indeed God's gift to mankind, little geniuses, knowing the secrets of life and the rules of the Game.

In the comfort of the cocoon of our private spaces with the security of nods of yeomen who agree and add on in agreement to whatever we say, we go on a roll. 

The squeal of dissent is muffled and vilified by roars of mobs of netizens on our platform. What we fail to realise is that these disapproving netizens are equally loud in their own social backyard cheered correspondingly by loud spectators who agree with them. Together they glorify each other in the sweet melody of their echo chamber.

With the splurge of adrenaline spiralled by cheering of bystanders, the momentum to act and to react snowballs. Keyboard warriors with their fangs and steely knives call for blood. They scream for punitive or exemplary actions. 

Little does anyone realise that society already has its own check and balances to deal with issues that arise, but somehow this particular topic becomes a national crisis.

As the growl reaches deafening levels, sanity fails. The leaders, wanting to stay relevant are pushed, or try to steal the limelight, issue statements. Narcissistic politicians, thinking of their next elections, speak gibberish to pacify both sides of the warring factions.

The blinkers stay on. Nobody realises that every argument has two sides. The truth is always a spectrum. There are many ways to skin a cat. Nobody bothers about the collateral damage to the parties involved. When soil hits the ceiling, everyone moves on to tackle the next perceived crisis.

Many live in a uni-dimensional universe. We bask in the glory that we know everything, and there is no need to acquire anything new. It just makes it easy. Thinking is hard work.

(In the good old pre-digital days, we also had many individuals with warped views of the world. We just ignored them or accepted them as aberrations of Nature that make life colourful. There was no need to paint our unicolour brush on them. They still enjoyed their place in the sun just like we did. )

https://asok22.wixsite.com/real-lesson 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Go ahead, pat yourself all you can!

We all like to think that we are the anointed one, that we are special, that we were made in His mould. Unfortunately, we tell ourselves that just to convince ourselves. Even we do not buy that story. We are so disenchanted by that idea that we have to regularly remind ourselves. We try to be around others who share our same thinking to comfort ourselves that we are indeed on the right track. When we see others with equally logical explanations that are able to connect the dots, that are contradictory to ours, we feel small. We say that that cannot be true. We were right all along, we pacify. We yearn for approval to state our case. We coalesce with the similar feeble minded ones and feel contented, satisfied that we were and are right. We are afraid to contest, fearful that we may fail.

We build a cocoon, constantly bombarding ourselves with affirmative statements, living in a perpetual state of euphoria and self-denial.

In essence, we are insecure,  just throttling along this journey of life like headless chickens just plunging into it head-on without a clue what is expected of us. Is our existence just mere coincidence or are we pawns in the greater scheme of things to propel the civilisation to greater heights, albeit in our own small ways. Are we just here to occupy space, to leave our carbon print and leave or are we just lab rats put to a test during our time on Earth?

We do not know and do not want to know but find the easy way out to flock with those with the mental might of the same capacity. Like Pascal, we opt for the path most followed as the retribution of non-conformance is for eternity. And that is a mighty long time. The law of probability posits that it is safer to comply and submit sheepishly.

Should we break our shell of ignorance, venture to boundaries where no man had been before or just gloat in self-gratification? 

Shame game

Over the last weekend, the family was deeply engaged in a debate on the appropriateness of a video clipping that went viral on the cyberspace. A thick in the middle kind of a middle aged man was filmed on a handphone whilst a girl, who may be the victim, went on a rampage accusing him of outraging her modesty while seated in a flight. He had apparently touched her after slipping his hands through the space between the seats.

The debate was whether what the victim did was right or the accused deserved such a shaming.

The victim who is from the generation who wishes that their mobile devices were attached to their body had the clarity of mind to record the whole event soon after the said crime was committed. She raised an alarm and drew fellow plane passengers to her seat as she started confronting the perpetrator with artillery of piercing questions. The accused on the receiving end sat slouched in shame covering his face. There is a second clip where the accused is in better spirits as he defends his actions.

In this digital age, it is becoming norm that  justice ala street justice is carried by social shaming. Sympathy is garnered by the number of likes. Almost everybody would agree and feel for the victim. The public would ask for blood. In a flash, all the job of judge, jury and executor would be even before natural justice takes its course. So much for someone being innocent until proven guilty.

All this may look benign but hitting the wrong button may prove fatal in the right predisposed individual. All the raw emotion hurled at the accused may just push him over the brink. Remember the nurse who spilled the beans over Kate Middleton's (Duchess of Cambridge, wife of Prince William) hospital admission in severe symptoms of early pregnancy - she took her own life. The pressure of guilt and accusation proved too much to stomach.
In this case, what if the gentleman who is accused of not being so gentle decides to take the path of least resistance away from all the shame? The accuser has blood in her hands or she could pat herself for justice had been served?

http://www.mid-day.com/articles/viral-video-girl-confronts-molester-on-flight-leaves-him-shame-faced/15958195

A storm in the teacup?

Now that the dust has finally settled on the vilification of Kiki over her outburst and overreaction over the fender bender that is hardly worth discussing, sometimes I wonder how I would have reacted in such a situation - on either side of snafu.

I would not be surprised if I had flipped if I were Kiki with the brand new spanking French beau after years of being contented with the only automobile affordable that is forced down my throat with my meagre pay. After paying all the unnecessary additional payments to secure my lucky number and with the smell of new car still lingering on my tunic and skin, it is pure heartache to see it being defaced, albeit its triviality. Putting all that aside, I would have acted inappropriately if a stressful event had occurred prior to that fateful encounter - a unfair statement from someone close, an abusive client, committed a big mistake at work, getting up on the wrong side of the bed, a bad hair day or whatever that would anyone flip.
I do not, however, condone any of her actions by any means.
Regarding her seemingly racist's rant, come on admit it! We, Malaysians are racist by birth, by default and by force by the powers that be. How many times have we try hard to compartmentalise a new colleague or acquaintance into the common ethnic group in the country? It has become almost second nature to us to instinctively utter a totally inappropriate statement, racial wise, by stereotyping one by race. In the heat of the moment, Kiki did the same.
Perhaps her mistake was that her anger took a mighty long time to subdue. And to be caught on tape. If there were no evidence of the whole event in cyberspace, it would just be another unglamorous event occurring on a daily basis in the streets of Malaysia, another storm in the teacup.
What happened afterwards was even more laughable! The trial by social media, the vilification, exposure of personal details, the show of lack of privacy and how our life can be bear open for others to see, the crucification, the unwelcome stardom and the mania that followed does not augur well for us in our endeavour to portray to the world as a developed and mature society.
The biggest lesson learnt from kerfuffle is that 'Somebody is always watching you'... I am afraid to wash to wash my hair, when I look up, I see somebody standing there, somebody's watching me now! Who? The IRS!!!...