Show & Tell
art blog(derogatory)
Three Goblin Art
d e v o n
ellievsbear
tumblr dot com
PR's Tumblrdome
Peter Solarz
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
styofa doing anything
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
oozey mess
hello vonnie
No title available
No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Bolivia
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@farizal
There Is No Such Thing As The Perfect Camping Trip (At Least Not 100%)
Something will always go wrong.
Rain will come when you didn’t expect it.
Something will get wet.
Something will be forgotten.
Something will break.
Someone will not sleep well.
There will be...
https://www.farizal.com/2026/03/camping-there-is-no-such-thing-as.html?m=1
Forgive yourself for all the wrong things you did just to be loved.
That WhatsApp group. The one that makes your jaw clench, your blood pressure spike, and your soul slowly wither every time your phone buzzes.
Let's call it what it really is: an emotional prison. And the guards? They're your own flesh and blood.
Welcome to Maximum Security
The Good, The Bad & The Online: Cybersecurity in Malaysia: Stop Making Scammers Rich https://www.farizalkamal.com/2026/03/cybersecurity-in-malaysia-stop-making.html
The RM2.77 Billion Hobby: Why Malaysians Keep Funding Scammers
“The biggest risk is not taking any risk.” — Mark Zuckerberg
(Except apparently Malaysians interpreted this as “take risks by clicking every suspicious link on WhatsApp.”)
Let’s start with a fun national statistic. In 2025 alone, Malaysians managed to donate approximately RM2.77 billion to online scammers. Not charity. Not zakat. Not taxes. Just pure, enthusiastic digital stupidity transferred via bank apps.
And 2026 is already warming up nicely.
Every day someone receives a message like:
“Your parcel stuck at customs. Click here.”
“Your TNB bill overdue.”
“Government bantuan available.”
“Hi dear, I’m an engineer working on an oil rig but I love you.”
And somehow, against all biological survival instincts, people still click.
Congratulations. You’ve just sponsored another scam syndicate’s company retreat in Phuket.
But here’s the good news: not getting scammed is actually very easy. It just requires basic skepticism and about five minutes of effort.
Let’s walk through the survival guide.
1. Turn On Multi-Factor Authentication (MFA)
This is the cybersecurity equivalent of locking your front door.
Apps like Google Authenticator or Microsoft Authenticator generate login codes that scammers cannot easily steal.
Enable it for:
Banking apps like Maybank2u
Email accounts
E-wallets like Touch ’n Go eWallet or Boost
Social media
Cybersecurity experts say MFA blocks about 99% of account takeover attempts.
Which means if you don’t enable it, you’re basically leaving your digital house unlocked with a sign that says:
“Please steal my savings.”
2. Stop Using Terrible Passwords
If your password looks like this:
123456
password
Ali1990
NamaAnak123
Then congratulations. You have the cybersecurity strength of a wet tissue.
Use a password manager like Bitwarden and generate long random passwords.
Yes, it’s slightly inconvenient.
You know what’s more inconvenient?
Explaining to your spouse that you just transferred RM40,000 to a fake investment guru on Telegram.
3. Update Your Phone. Yes, Now.
Many scams succeed because people are still running ancient software.
Those annoying update notifications you keep ignoring?
They often fix security holes hackers already know about.
So enable auto-updates on:
Android / iOS
Apps
Windows or macOS
Ignoring updates is like refusing to fix a broken lock because “later lah.”
Meanwhile hackers are already inside your house making Milo.
4. Assume Every Message Is a Scam
If you receive a random message claiming urgency, there’s a 99% chance it’s fake.
Classic scam phrases include:
“Account suspended”
“Parcel cannot deliver”
“Investment opportunity”
“Urgent transfer needed”
The rule is simple:
Never click the link.
Instead, contact the company directly.
Not the phone number inside the message.
The real one.
Scammers now use AI-generated messages in perfect Bahasa Malaysia, which means grammar is no longer a reliable stupidity detector.
5. Verify Before Sending Money
Malaysia is also seeing a huge rise in scams involving fake identities and impersonation.
Tools like MyDigital ID are designed to verify transactions and reduce fraud.
Use them whenever possible.
Because if someone you “met online yesterday” suddenly needs emergency money…
You’re not helping a soulmate.
You’re funding organized crime.
The Scams Malaysians Keep Falling For
Just a quick sampling of our national favorites:
Love Scams
January 2026 alone saw millions lost to fake online relationships. Apparently the quickest way to romance Malaysians is to pretend to be an overseas engineer.
Online Shopping Fraud
Over 1,300 cases in a single month.
Pro tip: if a PS5 costs RM800 on Facebook Marketplace, the only thing arriving is regret.
Deepfake Family Emergencies
AI can now clone voices and video.
If “your cousin” suddenly calls asking for money…
Hang up and call them back directly.
What To Do If You Get Hit
If you realise you’ve been scammed, act immediately.
Contact the National Scam Response Centre via 997.
Fast reporting has already helped authorities freeze billions of ringgit in scam funds.
Waiting a few hours dramatically lowers the chances of recovery.
Final Thought
Cybersecurity doesn’t require expensive software, government programs, or a degree in hacking.
It requires three things:
Suspicion
Patience
The ability to not click stupid links
Sadly, scammers are betting that Malaysians lack all three.
And judging by RM2.77 billion in losses…
They might be right.
Just Believe in Yourself (It’s Cheaper Than Therapy)
Somewhere along the way, society decided that the solution to every personal crisis, existential dread, and mild inconvenience was the same magical phrase: “Just believe in yourself.” Feeling overwhelmed by life? Believe in yourself. Your career is collapsing like a badly assembled IKEA shelf? Believe in yourself. Your bank account looks like it survived a natural disaster? Believe in yourself. Because apparently confidence is now a universal solvent for reality. The beauty of this advice is that it’s wonderfully cheap. Therapy costs money. Education costs money. Skill development costs money. But belief? Oh, belief is absolutely free. It’s the instant noodles of personal development: quick, cheap, and technically edible if you don’t ask too many questions. Hustle culture absolutely loves this philosophy. Why? Because telling people to “believe in themselves” is far more convenient than addressing systemic problems, workp...
The Hard Truth Behind Malaysia’s Social Problems
Every time Malaysia faces a social problem — whether it’s corruption, scams, road rage, littering, queue cutting, or people forwarding nonsense on WhatsApp — the national reaction is always the same.
Everyone looks around and asks the same question:
“Why is society like this?”
Then begins the traditional Malaysian blame festival.
Some blame the government.
Some blame politicians.
Some blame the education system.
Some blame social media.
Some blame foreign influence.
Some blame the previous government, the previous previous government, or possibly the British from 1957.
In other words, everyone blames everyone else.
But here comes the uncomfortable truth that many Malaysians prefer not to hear.
Most social problems do not magically appear out of thin air.
They come from people.
And those people are not aliens from another planet.
They are us.
Yes, the same people complaining loudly about corruption are sometimes the very same people quietly offering “coffee money” to settle a problem faster.
The same people who complain about irresponsible drivers are also the ones double parking, blocking traffic, and refusing to use their signal lights like it’s some kind of optional feature.
The same people who complain about fake news are happily forwarding suspicious WhatsApp messages with the enthusiasm of a breaking news journalist.
Apparently the problem is never personal behaviour.
It’s always “the system.”
But a system is not some mystical creature living inside a government building. A system is simply the collective behaviour of millions of people.
If millions of people behave badly, the system becomes messy.
It’s not rocket science.
Take corruption for example. Many Malaysians speak passionately about integrity and accountability — until they themselves need to cut a queue, skip a procedure, or solve a problem faster.
Suddenly morality becomes… flexible.
“Just this once.”
And of course everyone else is also doing “just this once.”
Multiply that mindset by millions of people and congratulations — you have built a culture.
The same logic applies to everyday social behaviour.
Why do people litter? Because someone else will clean it.
Why do people break traffic rules? Because enforcement is weak.
Why do people believe scams? Because they want easy money.
Why do people spread fake news? Because verifying information requires effort.
These are not complicated social mysteries.
They are simply small daily decisions made by millions of individuals.
But admitting this truth is uncomfortable.
It is much easier to point fingers at politicians, institutions, or society in general than to admit that social problems also reflect personal choices.
And before anyone gets offended, this is not about saying Malaysians are uniquely terrible people. Every country struggles with similar issues.
The difference lies in whether society is willing to look honestly at itself.
Real progress does not start with speeches.
It starts with something much less dramatic — personal responsibility.
Stop littering.
Stop bribing.
Stop spreading nonsense online.
Stop behaving like rules only apply to other people.
If enough individuals begin making better choices, the system improves naturally.
If everyone continues waiting for someone else to fix the problem, then nothing changes.
So the next time Malaysians complain about society, perhaps the better question is not “What is wrong with the country?”
The better question might be far more uncomfortable.
“What are we personally doing that contributes to the problem?”
Because the hard truth about social problems is this:
A country does not become better simply because people complain about it.
It becomes better when people behave better.
Malaysians and the Obsession With Queue Cutting
There are many things Malaysians are proud of: our food, our multicultural society, and our impressive ability to complain about the weather while eating nasi lemak. But there is one national talent that rarely makes it into tourism brochures — the elite, almost Olympic-level skill of queue cutting.
Yes, queue cutting. The unofficial national sport nobody admits playing, yet somehow everyone seems suspiciously good at.
You see it everywhere. At the bank, the LRT station, the hospital, the airport, the supermarket, and even at the mamak stall while waiting for roti canai. There is always that one person who believes the laws of patience, courtesy, and basic civilisation simply do not apply to them.
Apparently, the queue is meant for other people.
Observe the Malaysian queue cutter in action. They approach slowly, pretending to check their phone like a confused tourist. Then they drift sideways — casually, smoothly — like a crab migrating across a beach. Before you realise it, they have magically inserted themselves halfway into the line.
Sometimes they employ the legendary Malaysian tactic known as “buat muka blur.”
You know the face. The blank, innocent expression that says, “Oh? There was a queue? I thought everyone was just standing here for fun.”
Remarkable.
What makes queue cutting so fascinating is the mental gymnastics involved. Somewhere in that brain, a tiny voice must whisper, “Yes, there are twenty people waiting patiently. But clearly my time is more valuable than theirs.”
It is an extraordinary combination of arrogance and impressive self-delusion.
Of course, queue cutters succeed partly because of another Malaysian tradition — the national fear of confrontation. Most people see it happen. They feel the injustice bubbling inside. They whisper to their friend, “Eh, that guy potong queue lah.”
But do they say anything?
Of course not.
Instead, everyone performs the classic Malaysian ritual of silent suffering. A few eye rolls, maybe a loud sigh, and then life goes on. Meanwhile, the queue cutter proceeds forward like a victorious war hero.
Sometimes the situation becomes even more impressive. One person stands in line first. Then suddenly three, four, or five additional people appear from nowhere.
“Bro, I just join my wife.”
“Bro, I just join my friend.”
“Bro, I just join my cousin.”
Congratulations. What started as a queue has now become a family reunion.
But queue cutting is not just about impatience. It reveals something deeper — a casual disregard for other people’s time and basic social order. A functioning society depends on simple habits: waiting your turn, following shared rules, and respecting the people around you.
These are not complicated concepts.
Yet for some Malaysians, discipline feels like a personal attack.
Why wait when you can cut?
Why follow rules when you can outsmart them?
Why respect the system when pretending not to notice works just as well?
Ironically, the same queue cutters become instant philosophers of fairness when someone cuts in front of them. Suddenly justice matters again. Suddenly the rules are important.
Funny how that works.
Here is the uncomfortable truth: queue cutting is not just a bad habit. It is a symptom of a deeper problem — entitlement. The quiet belief that personal convenience is more important than collective order.
So the solution is painfully simple: stand in line, wait your turn, and respect other people’s time.
It is not rocket science. It is basic civilisation.
Because if Malaysians can queue patiently for viral bubble tea, concert tickets, or durian buffets, surely we can manage the same discipline at the supermarket cashier.
Otherwise, let us be honest.
Malaysia does not have a queue culture.
We have a queue illusion — a long line of patient people politely waiting… while one genius slides to the front pretending nothing happened.
Exploring human nature.
Communications Minister Fahmi Fadzil recently reminded the public of one simple but powerful action: call 997 immediately if you suspect a scam. The number connects victims directly to the National Scam Response Centre (NSRC), which now operates 24 hours a day to coordinate responses between banks, law enforcement and financial regulators.
Exploring human nature.
Lane splitting is one of those uniquely Malaysian road rituals art of squeezing a motorcycle through a gap that was never meant to be a gap, between two cars #lanesplitting #malaysia #traffic
Ramadhan phone etiquette
A society is judged by how it treats its weakest members. When we exploit the homeless for entertainment, we are not just failing them—we are revealing something ugly about ourselves. If this is the cost of online fame, then the price is far too high.
Don’t Waste Your Time With Explanations—People Only Hear What They Want to Hear
At some point in life, you learn a frustrating truth: explanations don’t always lead to understanding. You can carefully choose your words, provide context, give examples, and speak calmly—yet some people will still hear only what fits their existing beliefs. Not because you explained poorly, but because listening requires willingness.
Many people don’t listen to learn; they listen to confirm. They filter conversations through ego, emotion, pride, and prejudice. Facts become optional. Nuance disappears. Your message is twisted, simplified, or ignored entirely, then replaced with the version they were already prepared to accept.
This is where explanations become exhausting. You repeat yourself, defend your intentions, and clarify meanings, hoping for that “aha” moment that never comes. Instead of connection, you get frustration. Instead of progress, you get circles.
Knowing when to stop explaining is not arrogance—it’s wisdom. Silence can be a boundary. Walking away can be self-respect. Not every misunderstanding deserves correction, and not every opinion deserves your energy.
Save your explanations for those who ask questions, not accusations. Invest your time in people who listen to understand, not to respond. Life is too short to debate with closed minds.
Sometimes the most powerful statement you can make is this: say nothing at all—and move forward anyway.
Exploring human nature.
Camping lets us pretend we’re simple people living rich lives—while packing up our gear, leaving the jungle behind, and rushing back to signal bars.
The solution is not to shut down platforms but to strengthen the internal compass. Teach digital literacy in schools. Encourage empathy. Promote accountability — legal and social. Most importantly, remind ourselves that behind every profile photo is a real human being who feels, hurts, and remembers.
