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  • Being a minority on social media sucks sometimes

    Being a minority on social media sucks sometimes

    A few years ago, a Malaysian friend told me during the Twitter meltdown that she’s carefully cultivated a Malaysian safe bubble for herself on Twitter and she’s leery of losing that.

    Back then, I wasn’t very active on social media; I hung out mostly to drop brief comments on Twitter to people who talk about personal finance. I generally avoid the gurus and their acolytes. So, I thought it was a strange thing to willingly ensconce yourself in an information/conversation bubble.

    I GET IT NOW.

    After getting on Mastodon, I got super excited but quickly discovered how censorious some of its citizens can be.

    a) If you support a narrative on a subject that the majority of Mastodon doesn’t, you will probably be cancelled.

    b) You need to constantly be aware of the cultural triggers of the majority on various topics, especially writing, AI and certain countries they do not like. If you happen to not know woe betide unto you if you say something not accepted by the majority.

    The urge to self censor and speak up in rebellion

    When I wrote the post, What if using AI to write fiction isn’t an evil act? the insults I got stunned me. I was so ensconced in my AI positive/neutral real world that I don’t even realise how angry and unreasonable these people were.

    Yet, when some people subtly told me maybe I shouldn’t have written on that topic, I became rebellious. People telling me not to do something? Well that’s usually my trigger to do it anyway.

    So, I constantly struggle between self-censorship and rebellious speaking out all the time.

    A more personal and spicy perspective below, for subscribers to my blog only. (Free, no payment required.)

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  • Pangram in Substack? I’m so excited for the AI witch hunts

    Pangram in Substack? I’m so excited for the AI witch hunts

    So Substack just dropped an unwanted feature on us: “Going forward, you’ll be able to scan text to see how much of it was likely written by hand or with AI assistance,” says Chris Best in Against Claudefishing.

    Well thanks, Chris. Didn’t realise I needed to be harassed even moar by anti-AI trolls. Trolls, whom, I question their critical thinking skills day by day because you totally hate people using AI but you’re using AI to hate on people using AI?

    Hilarious.

    Anyway, if you haven’t gotten the memo, despite assertions that they’re much better now, AI “detection” tools are notoriously unreliable.

    I had a conversation with my lecturer friend yesterday and I asked her if she ever had false positives/negatives with her students. Without hesitation, she said: “Yes. Definitely!”

    Fortunately, she belongs to a college where students are not automatically penalised just because an AI tool says they wrote with AI. Her students are interviewed about their essay and asked to defend their thesis. I assume many can produce past versions of their essays as proof of their work as well.

    AI tools also flag English as Second Language writers more. Neurodivergent writers, those with dyslexia, those with brain fog, will be swept up too as many use LLMs to order their chaotic thoughts and communicate better.

    On a personal note, I tested an essay with Pangram. It came back 100% human, but ironically, the shorter, summarised version of the essay was flagged as 60% AI.

    100% of the shorter text was derived from the original essay. I used AI to edit it to 50% of its original size, giving the LLM (Deepseek) firm instructions NOT to add any new copy but just cut down the text and rearrange paragraphs. After it shortened the prose, I further edited it manually.

    So, that piece of copy was dinged because somehow and AI left markers on it?

    And how is that shorter version not 100% my own work when it’s made up of entirely my words?

    I don’t care what Substack does with the platform

    Add Pangram. Add baby dancing emojis with every “human verified, Pangram-approved” copy if you like. What I care about is my mental peace on the platform.

    As a minority voice on Substack, I’m already getting harassed and bullied just because I don’t have the same opinions as the majority on the platform. I’m getting tired of being dragged into exhausting political and cultural battles when I express my often-contrary opinions on AI and China – hot topics for these people.

    Before Notes, Substack’s annoying social media organ, my newsletter was a self-contained home where only invited ones or those who deign to follow me, could chatter in peace. After Notes, my essay can be picked up, shared and exposed to people I don’t want: those steeped in hatred, bigots, racists etc etc.

    Case in point, yesterday I wrote a Note thanking two Substack writers for elightening me On the matter of Greek erasure in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey. Someone reshared my post and called me a racist for writing that essay. (The reshare or classically, the “retweet”, is an oft-used device to bully other people online.)

    Since Substack introduced social media dynamics to the platform, my mental peace has been eroding day by day.

    Instead of siccing unwanted features like Pangram on us, Substack should be creating features that ensure that my Substack is a safe place for discussions, especially from people who are minorities on this platform.

    On Mastodon, I can choose to “downplay” my Note so it won’t go viral, or only share my note to specific people or followers. I can also choose to block certain keywords so that I don’t see hateful posts. These guardrails don’t exist on Substack, and the bullying is getting worse each day.

    With Substack’s introduction of Pangram, I expect it to get even worse.

    However, I doubt Substack would care because outrage is engagement, engagement is money, and there’s no better engagement than outrage.

    I’m glad I made a shift in my content strategy with Substack

    A few essays ago, I implored writers to have a personal website and not make Substack their digital home. I’m implementing this advice personally by writing my essays first on my website and then sharing a bite-sized version of it on Substack (while inviting them to read the full essay on my website at the same time).

    PS: Interestingly, as if to proof my point right, wordpress.com actually shared my post on their Reader portal, and I attracted over 50+ comments overnight. If I had written it on Substack, it probably wouldn’t have caught their attention. All that viral juice? It comes back to my website, baby!

    Will I stop using Substack? Like I said in the past, the puritanical pursuit of platform purity is a futile and silly exercise.

    I’ll continue my current strategy of writing my essays on my website and promoting them on Substack. Substack will be my “community hub” and publicity engine to get new readers for the website.

    I’ll also probably hang out more in Seablings, the Southeast-Asian community I’m building on Substack. I’m enjoying the little forum-like environment created by the weekly Seablings Soiree posts.

    As much as I desire to disengage from the toxicity of Notes, it is still a valuable resource to find new voices and connect with like-minded writers. Unfortunately, blocking is the only weapon we have against the toxic elements on that platform. The best thing I can do is limit the time I spend on that increasingly toxic place.

  • On the matter of Greek erasure in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey

    On the matter of Greek erasure in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey

    Let’s get to the point. These are the reasons why I was irritated by Chris Nolan’s Odyssey:

    • It’s a cheap attempt at diversity. Hollywood has been giving me the impression that it’s not confident stories from other cultures would be “safe” (i.e., sell). So they decided to adapt a well-known, popular IP and throw in a diverse cast so they can tick off the diversity box.
    • It’s cynical marketing. I’m 100% sure Nolan and the marketers know that by throwing Odyssey into the US culture wars, it would go viral, and thus people would watch it out of curiosity.
    • How another country’s cultural product became cannon fodder for the exhausting US culture war. I’m so sick and tired of how almost every movie becomes a battleground for left- and right-wing politics. Can we just watch movies without being inflicted with this constantly?
    • Both the right and left sides of the debate often use ignorant, ill-informed, and often bigoted reasons to defend their points of view.
    • The US debates are very loud and numerous online, so Greek voices and other opinions outside the culture war dialogue are drowned out, and worse, dismissed. “It’s just a fantasy; authenticity shouldn’t matter.”

    FFS I just want to go to the cinema, get some popcorn and enjoy a movie without having to see these battles played out on social media. But this is the world we live in now, sadly.

    Anyway, I wanted to deeply explore why I was so disturbed by what Nolan did. However, I didn’t want to just consume all these YouTube videos from the US culture warriors. I went on a deep dive, and what I found was shocking:

    There’s an insidious reason why Greek presence, heritage, culture and history have been removed from the movie.

    It’s a symptom of a 200-year-old imperialistic, intellectual paradigm about Greece.

    According to Farya Faraji, a Canadian-Iranian musicologist, Nolan’s creative decisions were unsurprising because he is just continuing the Northwestern European intellectual tradition, cultural imperialism, appropriation and ethnocentric view of Greek culture.

    Edit: I completely forgot to add his wonderful video explaining all this in my first publishing attempt. Sigh! I hope you watch this, it’s very informative.

    This intellectual tradition:

    • “Westernises” ancient Greece by downplaying its Eastern Mediterranean and West Asian heritage and influences.
    • Claims Greek culture as the foundation for Western culture.
    • Has an almost unconscious desire to portray Greek culture as more “white” and “Western” so that this claim is more legitimate and narratively aligned.

    This led me to discover a more shocking insight: the idea that modern Greeks are not considered white, and because of that are not considered inheritors of ancient Greece.

    There’s this assumption that ancient Greeks were “purer” and more Nordic white (white, blonde, etc.) before they were “tainted” or “sullied” by the Ottomans.

    As a result, modern Greek people are not considered inheritors of the ancient Greeks due to this “corruption.”

    Condescendingly, some powers that be believe they (the Northwestern civilisations) are better caretakers of the Greek heritage than the Greeks themselves due to this.

    Yiannis Baboulias also echoes Faraji’s thoughts, saying that “…classical Greek inheritance had migrated north and west and that the living Greeks were not its rightful custodians, contributed to a 19th-century German cultural framework in which that inheritance could be claimed by others entirely.” – On the Odyssey, because

    From Greek City Times’ Nolan’s Odyssey Problem: Diversity Without Greeks Is Not Diversity:
    “Greeks — like Italians, Armenians, Slavs and other Mediterranean or European ethnic groups — often occupy an awkward category within American racial politics. They are considered ‘white enough’ to be excluded from representation conversations, yet still ethnically and culturally distinct enough to be mined for mythology, history and aesthetics.

    Hollywood wants the cultural prestige of Homer without feeling any obligation toward Greek cultural representation itself.”

    Maria Stenos wrote a good piece about how this cultural appropriation became set in stone, so do read it: Diaspora Grief and the Hellenic Double Standard

    “Greeks became marginalised within a Western academic landscape that preferred sanitised versions of Ancient Greek history over living Hellenic scholarship. The classics had been deemed shared inheritance, homogenised under the monolith of Western culture; modern Greeks were simply an inconvenience to that story.” – Maria Stenos


    My mind is blown by how terrible and unjust this is

    This discovery has been challenging for me to process; I’m literally in disbelief as I wrote this in my journal:

    So let me get this right. Some countries liked what they saw in Greece’s literary, cultural, and artistic traditions. They liked the prestige of having been formed by this thousands-of-years-old culture, so they appropriated it for themselves and said that their culture came from the Greeks. But then they discovered that the Greeks were not what they thought they were—meaning they were actually influenced by various cultures around the region, such as the Ottomans. You know, distinctly not like them. Not Western.

    That becomes an inconvenient narrative because the heritage you claimed as yours actually came from a non-white, multiracial background. This is terribly inconvenient, so you decided to exclude this multiracial heritage. In fact, in the end, you excluded modern Greeks entirely because you believe they were influenced by and intermarried with peoples of other countries in the region, making them, in your eyes, not as “pure white” as you would like.

    Over the years, you get comfortable with the belief that Western civilization has its foundation in Greek history, yet you refuse to acknowledge the Greeks, the originators of this culture.

    Can we all say euw together?

    I think most people aren’t even aware of this very long, centuries-old dynamic existing and playing out to this day because “Greek culture is the root of Western civilisation” is just taken as a fact when… well, it is probably not true?

    I discussed this with a friend, and we were wondering – why won’t the French or the Germans claim Beowulf as the foundation of Western civilisation instead? Why Greek culture? Is it because it’s older and more prestigious?

    Anyway, my mind is blown.

    To the Greeks out there upset about what Nolan did: I hear you. I can’t imagine having the agency over my culture taken like this. I can’t imagine having my right as an inheritor of my own culture questioned due to some myth about the lack of my blood purity. Worse, to have my cultural products used like a football for someone else’s ideological battles…?

    Despite being a Peranakan woman, my right to my Chinese heritage was never questioned, nor have I met any mainland Chinese who did not view me as a fellow Chinese and “child of the motherland.”

    I remember having a conversation about this with a Chinese mainlander on Xiaohongshu. I told her how some people don’t consider me Chinese enough because of my lack of skill in Mandarin. The person expressed shock at such a thing. “What nonsense is this? There’s no question that you’re a child of China and a sister!” she exclaimed.

    (Of course there are extreme nationalists, however, that would think otherwise, but they are a rarity.)


    Using another country’s cultural products to promote an ideology

    So that’s why Nolan’s actions are adding salt to the wound, especially for the Greeks.

    The Odyssey’s original meaning and themes have been replaced by an ideology that is not Homer’s. Instead of seeing the Odyssey from the worldview of the creator, Nolan chose to contort the Odyssey to suit his worldview, which is postmodern, nihilistic and devoid of spirituality.

    I have no doubt that Nolan’s Odyssey will be entertaining because the man is a master entertainer and cinematographer.

    It could even be a box office hit thanks to all that controversy and viral marketing.

    However, those who are Greek and revere their Greek heritage, and those who love history, would probably not enjoy this movie, knowing what has been done in the name of entertainment.

  • July 2026: Lestat, OpenCode and the art of resting

    July 2026: Lestat, OpenCode and the art of resting

    I’m currently towards the tail end of my leave after a medical procedure. I cannot believe time has flown so quickly. When I first got the leave chit, I thought to myself: So many weeks! What in the world am I going do during this time?

    But now at week four of my leave, I’m feeling a mild tang of panic as my leave draws to a close. Recovering from this medical procedure had been more challenging than I had anticipated – mostly due to the anxiety of reading too many alarming Reddit threads about said procedure, and also because living in an apartment with zero lounging furniture (I have no sofa because I sit on the floor most of the time) and a too-hard mattress (I’ve been meaning to buy a topper but kept delaying it) was less than ideal for recovery.

    Also, not gonna lie, I suck at resting most of the time. My mind is often whirring with ideas and new projects. And having to, I don’t know, sleep feels like a waste of time.

    So, I often end up working at my laptop on personal projects even when on medical leave. But this time my body wasn’t giving me any leeway. I have to rest (preferably horizontally) whether I like it or not, and it makes its opinion loud and clear.

    So, I’ve been catching up with the many, many Chinese dramas and Hollywood shows that I’ve been dying to watch but simply had no time. Massively enjoying The Vampire Lestat, and highly enjoying Sam Reid’s depiction of the golden-locked Lestat. The team really selected the right actor to play the bratty prince.

    Chinese dramas that I’ve caught up with: The First Jasmine (fantastic), A Splendid Match (so-so to terrible). I may attempt The Mirage next, only to see what the fuss is all about.

    Despite my body’s insistence that I not use my brain cells, I still managed to tidy up a few reviews for my Dramatea blog, so I’ve scheduled a number of drama reviews for the next few weeks.

    Learning OpenCode and coding agents

    On the learning front, I stumbled on OpenCode School and I’m in heaven. It’s just so fun. I’ve discovered the magic of coding agents as a writer’s tool and I’m in heaven! Once you’ve touched a coding agent like OpenCode, you will find it difficult to go back to chat, which makes me grieve a little for the money I spent on my premium Typing Mind purchase. 😉

    Speaking of coding agents, I did dabble on a number of them. I have a soft spot for Antigravity 2.0 (so hated by the community right now) and to be extremely honest, it’s slicker and less janky (if at all) than OpenCode, which still has some ways to go to improve its UI. I only use Antigravity for work, however.

    Why OpenCode, then? Well, blame it on my stubborn nature which refuses to be boxed in by a walled software garden, no matter how slick and pretty. (A big reason why I found Apple products suffocating and left it).

    I can only rave and rant about AI with software engineers, but I so wish I could find a fellow writer who uses AI like I do so that we can exchange notes. Each time I write a writing + AI post, all I get are insults from the writing community, which saddens my soul. If only they know how much it has made me happier as a writer.

  • The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

    I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

    To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

    But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.


    The Divide

    Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

    For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

    It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

    As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

    I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

    Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

    One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

    The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.


    Roots: The Peranakan Story

    Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

    In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

    Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

    Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

    When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

    My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

    They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.


    Why Bananas Are Fading

    So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

    The Ideal Future

    Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

    That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

    The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

    Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.

  • The key to my successful weekly planning system: Time blocking with Google Calendar and Google Tasks

    The key to my successful weekly planning system: Time blocking with Google Calendar and Google Tasks

    I depend on this daily/weekly routine to be as productive as I can be. This is an update from a previous workflow which used Trello. Now, I use Google Tasks in tandem with Gmail and Google Calendar.

    Tools I Use

    • Google Calendar
    • Gmail
    • Google Chat
    • Google Tasks
    • Jira
    • Trello (for personal tasks)
    • Gemini and Google Workspace Studio (for AI agents)

    My Step-by-Step Planning Flow

    Preparation: Choose a single “inbox” for work
    Previously, I was overwhelmed by notifications from too many sources: Jira, Google Chat, Gmail, verbally…

    The first step was choosing a single “capture” inbox: Gmail. I funneled notifications from my company’s project management system (Jira) there, but ensure I receive only work-related items and personal mentions.

    Step 1: Review Google Chat (daily)
    Each day, I review chat, especially the mentions tab where people mention me. Anything requiring investigation or action gets forwarded to my Gmail inbox.

    Step 2: Process Gmail Inbox (daily)
    Once that’s done, I process my email inbox and turn relevant items into tasks using Google Tasks — just right-click and convert. I put a rough date and time for these tasks.

    Note: I now have an AI agent that does steps 1 and 2 for me. Every morning at 8am, Bob the Briefer (yes, I name my AI agents) compiles a report about the tasks I need to focus on and what has been happening while I slept. (I work in a multi-national company, and there’s always one branch of the company operational in any part of the world.) I read it before I start the day, but I often double check to ensure Bob didn’t miss anything. He ain’t perfect; he’s AI.

    Step 3: Time Block in Google Calendar


    This is my favourite part of the system: I open Google Calendar. I timeblock new tasks, reschedule any tasks or appointments that I couldn’t complete the day before (or last week).

    I have also baked my routines into Google Calendar so that I don’t crack my head wondering what I should do each week.

    For example, my calendar has focus blocks set on certain days. It’s repeated each week. I also have blocks set for personal writing and admin stuff each week.

    For my work focus blocks, I simply add, to the description, what I need to accomplish — for example, “write web page content for a service” on the Focus block each week.

    Meaning, every focus block must have a goal written in the calendar.

    I also have focus blocks for personal writing and chores.

    By the end of my Monday reset, my calendar will have tasks for the week. Because I make sure to time block, they are often a realistic reflection of what I hope to achieve throughout the week. Priorities shift unpredictably, of course, but Google Calendar lets me reshuffle blocks and tasks easily.

    Step 4: Protect My Focus Days
    I have three solid focus blocks weekly: Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.

    Monday and Tuesday work best because I’m most energetic and face the fewest interruptions. Monday is my focus day for creation; Tuesday is for revision and refinement. If I need a third day, it’s usually Thursday.

    I have an “up and down” cadence to my days. Some days I’m in Deep Work, intensely writing, planning or strategising. Some days are “light” in that I have meetings, do more administration tasks, stakeholder management work.

    Step 5: I plan for next week
    Friday is my favorite day because I plan for the next week. Yes, planning is something I look forward to each week!

    And I also have a set “end of week planning” block where I review my inbox, update Jira tickets and goals, then begin the cycle again by tentatively time blocking my calendar for next week.

    I avoid weekly planning on Mondays to protect my very precious focus time. By planning on Friday, I start Monday morning knowing exactly what to do — including what my Monday focus block is for.

    Tip: Include your personal plans in the same system
    One challenge I’ve always had was including my personal life in my planning. So, for years, I seem to do really well at work but when it comes to planning for my personal life, it’s chaos.

    I cycled through many systems, from creating separate calendars to having a fully analog system just for personal life. I even tried to schedule my personal tasks in my work calendar, which felt overwhelming to manage.

    My solution is to now have blocks of time, very much like my Focus times for personal activities such as personal writing (I write this blog, and another blog about Chinese dramas and a Substack about Chinese and Malaysian culture), tasks for the forum I moderate, chores and more. Like the focus blocks, they repeat every week, and if there’s one week where the block doesn’t work, I can shuffle it to another time.

    Rather than schedule personal tasks in my calendar like I do with work, I leave it “free and easy”. I decide what to do in that designated hour.

    I keep a separate Trello board for my forum moderation and personal writing.

    So, during my personal writing time block, I’ll refer to the Trello board to see which tasks I am in the mood of doing.

    As much as I dislike routines, I also realise they work immensely well so that I don’t have to crack my head, wondering what to do each day or completely forget them.

  • Substack writers, you need a website!

    Substack writers, you need a website!

    “But I already have a website on Substack,” you argue.

    No, no, Substack is just a distribution tool to amplify your website. It should not be your digital home.

    In the last few years, I’ve noticed a pattern of writers leaving their websites to make Substack their digital home.

    Now, it’s kinda okay if they have bought a domain and linked it to Substack. (Meaning, it’s better than nothing.)

    Rachel from Conscious Living is a good example. This way, Substack more or less functions like a content management system (CMS) for you.

    However, compared to other CMS it’s very limited, such as the ability to manage your SEO and customize your pages to add more features, but I digress. If you just want a fuss-free platform, this is one way to get it and Substack’s conditions for domains are very reasonable and cost-efficient. As I will explain later, this could change on a dime without warning.

    However, there are some writers who are saying: “Hey readers, I’m now writing on Substack, so head on over there (and ignore my website)!”

    Some writers do have a website, but link to their Substacks, calling them their “blogs”. If your Substack has a domain name they own, it’s okay, but if it’s xx.substack.com, Substack is saying “All your content are belong to us”.

    In conclusion: Writers, don’t do this. It’s short-sighted and unwise and can derail your long-term visibility on the Internet.

    The siren call of convenience

    Every few years, the internet convinces writers that a new digital paradise has arrived. First, it was social media like Facebook. Then blogging networks like Tumblr. Then it was Medium. More recently, it’s been Substack.

    Platforms promise us an eager audience, built-in monetization, a smooth user interface, and a supportive community. As a writer who just wants to focus on writing, it’s incredibly tempting to hand over the keys to our creative kingdoms and let these portals handle everything. (Believe me, I gave in at one point. For years, I just stopped blogging altogether and even gave up a domain that had high traffic! But I got back in 2012 and never left.)

    However, this is the truth that has not changed since the dawn of the Internet: When you build your audience entirely on someone else’s platform, you aren’t a homeowner. You are a tenant. Or worse, a digital sharecropper.

    And corporate landlords always change the rules eventually. It’s not personal, it’s just business.


    The illusion of the safe space

    It’s easy to feel secure when a platform is in its golden era. But we’ve watched the downfalls of Twitter, the policy shifts of Reddit, and the changing tides of algorithmic networks. Relying blindly on a centralized portal not owned by you means your life’s work can alter overnight based entirely on a corporate boardroom decision.

    When I looked at how fragile our digital ecosystems really are, I realized I needed a space that wouldn’t go “poof” because a company needed to please its investors or shareholders. This realization completely changed my approach, pushing me to protect my content by learning to blog the IndieWeb way.

    Your writing needs a permanent homebase—a domain that you own and control. Full stop.

    Moving from “renting” to syndicating

    Field
    Do you own the land you plant your “content” crops?

    The biggest pushback I hear from writers is: “But my website doesn’t have an audience! Substack does.”

    But you don’t have to completely abandon social media or platforms like Substack to protect your autonomy (personally, I prefer the word sovereignty but it does sound a tad dramatic).

    You just need to change the order of operations. Instead of publishing directly to a portal, you can shift your mindset to POSSE: Publish (on your) Own Site, Syndicate Elsewhere. (I explain the POSSE/PESOS method in an older post.)

    By treating your website as the definitive source of truth and using platforms simply as distribution pipes, you get the best of both worlds. I dug deep into this shift when I committed to being an imperfect gardener of my digital garden, exploring how a less market-y way of presenting my content online let me share my wild garden of thoughts without dancing to the algorithm.

    A reality check on platform hype

    If you are still holding out hope that Substack is “different” from the social platforms that came before it, let’s look at the numbers and behaviors behind the marketing copy.

    After spending a significant amount of time observing the platform ecosystem firsthand, I wrote a brutally honest takeaway in What I learned from one year of Substack. The network effects are real, but so is the pressure to conform to what the platform’s ecosystem favors.

    This post, by the way, desperately needs to be updated because things have gotten much, much worse since I wrote it.

    When you hand your content over to a platform, you have to conform to their rules and their localized biases. For those of us writing from outside the dominant US-centric echo chambers, platform algorithms heavily prioritize specific western narratives, making it incredibly tough for localized or minority voices to be seen unless they conform.

    I wrote about this exact frustration recently in Linkblog: Dwelling on the Internet, highlighting how algorithmic complacency forces us into homogenized bubbles.

    The flip side – the writers who refused to leave their websites

    Each time there’s a new drama on some platform, and writers are shaking their sabers and declaring that they will leave for yet another social media platform they don’t control, I think about writers like John Scalzi.

    As of date, John scalzi has been blogging on https://whatever.scalzi.com/ for 28 years!

    This sci-fi novelist has maintained a single independent website continuously for nearly three decades; this makes him one of the longest-running, most consistent original bloggers on the internet. Imagine the amount of digital footprint on that website! Unbroken by time or platforms.

    (Specifically, he uses wordpress.com like I do, as we both don’t want to bother with the pain of setting up your own self-hosted wordpress website and just want the folks at Automattic to do it.)

    He blogs in the classic Indieweb way, though I doubt he is even aware he’s doing it. He treats his social media channels such as X or Bluesky as a way to amplify his website. All roads lead back to https://whatever.scalzi.com/, and this is something I wish every single writer would do.

    He wrote recently in Various & Sundry, 6/3/26:

    this site acts as my own institutional memory, if I post something about it here it constitutes an official record. I mean, all the posts I ever placed on the former Twitter are now entirely lost to time, since I have gone in and purged my entire timeline there. This site, however, endures. – John Scalzi

    Breaking free from platform blues

    Trying to adapt your presence across various platforms in an ever-shifting digital landscape is exhausting. One minute a platform is a writer’s darling; the next, it’s being boycotted. Railing against a platform’s focus shift or the presence of (long sigh) Nazis is a useless endeavor.

    As I noted in Linkblog March 12, 2026: Platform blues, chasing platform purity is an illusion. Tech will change, corporate algorithms will continue to prioritize profit over human connection, and platforms will continue to cycle through hype and decline.

    The antidote to this exhaustion isn’t moving to the next shiny new app. It’s anchoring your work on an independent website with open distribution channels like RSS. It also means ruthlessly using platforms as distribution channels. When one collapses or you prefer to just move, it’s easy to just change strategies because your digital home remains unchanged.

    Use platforms to find your readers, but bring them back to your house. It’s time to stop digital sharecropping on rented land.

    Featured photo is by vivek vk on Unsplash

  • Linkblog: Dwelling on the Internet

    Linkblog: Dwelling on the Internet

    Welcome to my Linkblog where I share interesting articles and blog posts I found about social media, Indieweb, geopolitics, Chinese and Malaysian stuff, cute cat videos or anything funny and interesting I find online.

    FYI: I also share links in the “Weekend Tales” of my Substack newsletter, Tai Tales. The newsletter is geared towards Chinese and Malaysian culture.

    Being on the Internet

    David’s article really resonated with me because I’ve been thinking for a long while now to create a newsletter (or three) to surface barely heard voices.

    On Substack, for example, the voices I hear are overwhelmingly from the United States, and it is incredibly hard to find voices from Asia and South-East Asia. It’s a source of huge frustration for me because the most common narratives about my part of the world is from the United States, and a lot of times these narratives are distorted, skewed to American values and is not what is really happening in my region.

    Yet, when I try to speak up on Substack, I get harassed as I’m a minority voice talking about an uncommon and often demonised narrative. On top of that, my posts never get seen as the algorithm is prioritising US voices and Substacks. Worse, they are also boosting only popular ones, which means the most popular narrative is the loudest.

    I have occasionally shared links to South-East Asian Substacks and blogs, and each time I do, I get messages of gratitude. However, I still wondered if my tiny act of rebellion would do anything to move the needle in terms of being heard in an English-speaking Internet overwhelmed by Western voices and narratives.

    David’s post reminded me that yes, I should put in some effort to help surface more unknown corners of the Internet. Maybe we won’t get rid of the algorithmic complacency sweeping society now, but at least we’ll do some tiny thing to help create a messy but human algorithm instead.

    Being a Mastodon Moderator by Mark Wyner

    As a Reddit moderator, I already know the answer to this article would be – it’s not easy 😉

    Algorithms are breaking how we think (video)

    This video made me realise I am a strange person. I actually don’t like algorithms feeding me information but actually do this shocking thing called research.

    Yes, I hate algorithms with a passion and do not depend on them for my news or information sources.

    I realised that “algorithmic complacency” was real during the US folks migration to xiaohongshu (Red Note). I was puzzled why so many seem surprised that China was well developed and futuristic… Then I noticed a pattern – most comments from US folks say that the algorithm didn’t show them this China. Which, of course, led me to think – then, use search? But I realized nobody was interested in doing that extra work.

    Our modern society is nothing but a delicate house of cards.

    A story from Vladimir Campos on Medium ‘Why are we increasingly relying on the cloud for everything? Why do all things have to have an app that has to be connected to the Internet to work?’ Read ‘Our modern society is nothing but a delicate house of cards.’ by Vladimir Campos on Medium: “

    How have my blogging habits changed? – The Wallflower Digest

    “I really enjoyed this post by Alice about how her blogging habits have changed, and especially the part about she no longer microblogs. It’s such a habit of mine to post directly to Mastodon when I can just post on my blog … I am working on adjusting my workflow for social media publishing so that I write a note in my Obsidian vault first before sharing it to the web. I’m working on it, but I’m not sure how successful I’ll be. Old habits die hard!

  • Why the global south is grateful for Deepseek

    Why the global south is grateful for Deepseek

    Deepseek is pretty amazing. I made 22 API calls yesterday and I have spent….$0.005. Granted my use case is extremely simple, just some simple data work, extracting and shuffling data from a csv file to create a directory page on a website. But what would’ve taken me 2x longer copy and pasting, with lots of context switching that would’ve taxed my limited cognitive battery cells, took me only less than 10 minutes. If I had mastered using a coding agent like Hermes or Antigravity, I probably would’ve asked the AI to publish it on my Substack with a few lines. (But I’m a control freak, so probably will never do this unless I’m extremely confident it won’t run away from me and commit some kind of move that would tank my socials. But I digress.)

    Besides the data work, I was also having an interview style conversation with Deepseek, using my answers to write a post for a drama discussion. The post was super off in terms of tone, but I was happy to use it as a first draft to polish. Before using Deepseek, I used Mistral’s Le Chat for this and was clocked out after a few rounds with it.

    Each time I think about the Deepseek Moment, when the company announcing its open source and extremely cost-effective nature on the Internet, I remember it being one of the happiest times online (for me, the ever present nerd.)

    Back then, I was reluctant to pay for ChatGPT and wondered how folks from my region and other poorer Global South countries could ever catch up with US citizens. I was also feeling a tad bitter that again, high tech is gated from us thanks to everything being denominated US dollars.

    The Deepseek moment was a very happy moment due to this. Finally we can have access to affordable, equivalent AI tech. So, as the Anglophile world (I really hate the word, but what can we call Westerners?) wring their hands over ethics, morals and diminished human cognition, the global south ignores them because we’re too busy keeping pace and trying to learn as fast as we can. Having US dominate AI for a year or two was a slightly scary experience, especially when prices were starting to creep up. Deepseek was a “now this is our chance, let’s hurry up” moment.

    We learned from history, the price of being behind technologically. It’s almost existential for us.

    Note: I’ve retired my Le Chat subscription and am now on using the platform’s free plan and using the API pay-per-use on Typing Mind)

  • Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    ℹ️ Now, a caveat before I go on. There’s a common narrative on left-leaning US-dominated social media that there’s a concerted effort by Beijing to stamp out native languages. This interpretation is false and propaganda, and this writer is not in the mood to educate or argue with these believers right now, and as I don’t want this thread to be hijacked by an agenda, I’ll be moderating the comments.

    This will be my only attempt at educating people on the subject: Even in Malaysia, Chinese dialects are fading, being replaced by Mandarin. There’s no concerted effort by the Malaysian government to stamp out Chinese dialects. This is all due to the power of peer and family pressure. Self-inflicted, almost. Kids feel pressured to adopt the perceived “elite language” at school or even at home. And if parents do not make a concerted effort to educate their children in the native tongue, it’ll fade.

    It happened in my family, with my siblings being total bananas, preferring to communicate most of the time in English while I am can converse in Hokkien (a Chinese language dominant in China’s Fujian province) and Mandarin. This was a choice on my part to keep learning Mandarin and speaking in Hokkien. My siblings just didn’t think it a priority, that’s all. It’s no biggie. It’s just a personal choice every individual in Malaysia may make. Now on to the essay.


    Yaqi Li’s essay, Reversed Tones and Borrowed Tongues fascinated me because, as a Malaysian, I grew up in an environment where we end up using multiple languages.

    I thought long and hard about whether I was ever ashamed speaking Hokkien, and the short answer is, No.

    In fact, I’d be surprised if any Malaysian-Chinese would feel ashamed speaking their native tongue. For as long as I lived, the Malaysian Chinese community had been fiercely determined to preserve their traditions, and that included speaking their native tongues. If anything, they’d frown at anyone who look down on their mother tongue.

    The pressure and “shame” I feel is that I was never fast or smart enough to master more languages. For example, having lived in Kuala Lumpur for most of my life, I am often side-eyed for not bothering to learn Cantonese.

    Malaysia’s unique education system—we have schools whose primary languages are either English (private schools), Malay (national schools), Chinese or Indian (vernacular schools)—meant that there’s no one Malaysian with the same command of language in any language.

    My strongest language is English despite being in a Malay-dominated national school because my family are Penang Peranakans who are Anglophiles. Even before Malaysia’s independence, the Penang Peranakans spoke English and sent our kids to missionary schools.

    At home, my parents and I speak a mixture of English and Hokkien. Among my siblings, I’m the most fluent in Hokkien and Mandarin. Mandarin was a ‘chance of geography’. I grew up in Johor, but unlike my siblings, I just naturally learned Mandarin while they didn’t.

    The Peranakans are Chinese, but we don’t really feel inferior or ashamed for not speaking Mandarin or our native mother tongue because it’s understood that most of us can’t. The Malacca Peranakans, for example, mostly speak Malay.

    One of the excuses I give when a Chinese-educated Malaysian-Chinese scoff at me for not speaking Mandarin fluently is that I am Peranakan. A look of understanding will dawn on their faces and they will say, “Oh no wonder.”

    They’re not as forgiving for complete Chinese bananas, however. They just cannot comprehend Chinese people who do not bother preserving their mother tongues.

    We also don’t feel any shame/superiority/inferiority for learning a language. When you are a Peranakan, whose culture is a blend of myriad cultures including Chinese, Malay, Thai and even British, there’s really little shame in learning a language. As I said, if anything, our shame comes from not learning more languages than we should!

    I’m an odd duck in that I have really good accents in my languages (great Malay and Mandarin accents) but my vocabulary sucks. My accent makes up for it, fooling many native speakers into thinking I’m native like them.

    So, in summary, Malaysians generally don’t really have an identity crisis over our mastery of language. However, language is politicized, with Malay trying to maintain its primacy in an English-dominated world, made even more complicated by a language-fractured education system and a population whose mastery of Malay isn’t standard or homogeneous.

    But I hear that among the Chinese educated, they do feel bad if they can’t master English. But again, only because they are supposed to. They understand how important it is to master English and their mastery of it will determine their success in business.

    But again, when most of Malaysian society is multilingual, able to switch to multiple languages (sometimes in one sentence), the shame comes from not mastering a language fast enough or adding more languages to your skillset.

    #languages #Chinese #Culture #Mandarin #Hokkien #Malaysia