Meaning in Chaos. Signal in Noise.

June 2025 marks:

• 3 years in Kampot
• 19 years in Asia

It's been three months since the last post, a lack of inspiration being the main cause. There are no grandiose philosophical points to elucidate, few data points to add and even fewer musings of a 51yo wokefugee contentedly eeking out an early retirement of tranquility in the tropics. Therefore, the following is merely a summary of recent events, the dullness of which is for the reader to judge.

Cornbeef

Was swanning round the POL pool table with an ill-placed confidence given the defective state of me starboard microphone. A blocked canal causing significant hearing loss and disorientation - akin to being in a fish tank. After some aimless riding on shitbox I encountered a humble business advertising (in Khmer script) haircuts ($2.50) and ear cleanings ($2).

One of the things I love out here are the comical juxtapositions one is often presented with. We were in a dirt-floored roadside shack hastily cobbled together with crooked tree branches and corrugated iron. However, Sokha had somehow sourced a dentist's chair enabling him to embark upon this commendable enterprise. I truly admire the entrepreneurial spirit out here - a skill I regret never developing.

He ushers me into the chair and reclines it almost horizontal before donning a surgical mask and miner's headlamp. He then unfolds a towel containing what look like rusty instruments of medieval torture. Fucking hell. I grip the arm rests as he starts probing me shell. Almost immediately I hear this loud squelching/sucking sound followed by an immediate sense of relief. He held a blob of black wax up to the light as if examining a diamond. "Tom Na" he exclaims (very big) while making the face of a parent whose child refuses to brush their teeth. How did you let things get that far you filthy bastard?

Landlords

Just get better and better. I've lived in five places in Cambodia and they've all been excellent. However, Kanel went further than most by inviting me out to celebrate a year here. The joy of being able to hear him properly had yet to subside. Even though he's my landlord we've developed a big-brother-little-brother dynamic whereby he'll often come seeking advice on how to deal with the oddball Barang tenants he invariably encounters. He enters his flow state when sat on a chair next to the hammock explaining historic events from China to Rome. I lie back enjoying his enthusiasm, depth of knowledge and ability to parse it in English.

Pests

Even paradise has problems. Namely rats. They'd been scurrying in the space between the ceiling and roofing waking me every night for donkeys. I thought they'd eventually bugger off given there's no food up there but they never did. So they'd chosen WAR eh? The first counter insurgency was a $2.50 trap but they easily outsmarted it. Maybe the bait (or location) was sub-optimal? Round one to them. Next I climbed a ladder to plant some poison - resembling delicious-looking boiled sweets - a suicidal impulse screaming at me to eat one - weird. Would rodents find them as tempting as I did? Thankfully, we haven't heard them since. So round two to me then? Hope so. Peace at long last.

Old impermanence

Ended up finally removing the Tangerine Tornado from Alan's garden and donating it to a mate of a mate. It was time to unburden that albatross of responsibility. No regrets - tried something new but never quite jibed with it. The things you own end up owning you.

The next item on the chopping block was the pool league. I'd enjoyed two fun years as a team captain, however, as I held a bar loaded with 80kg above me chest, staring at the off-white gym ceiling in a meditative trance, the universe signaled it was time to let it go. Not the bar - the league.

Next was blood. First time I'd ever done it. An Aussie lad was going through medical turmoil so I donated a can of coke's worth. Guess I don't have HIV then? Phew.

Since 2023 it feels like a guardian angel has been sending subtle signals every time a decision needs to be made. It's so odd. Yet so right. Let things come, let them go.

New impermanence

I'd never really committed to Cambodia always believing I'd return to Thailand one day. However, after returning from the Land Of Smiles in January I was more certain the future lay here. It was with this in mind that I began studying Khmer in earnest - allocating actual economic energy to the endeavour.

I see Paula three times a week where we work through a beginner's book. We've made reasonable progress and I'm now able to engage in (very) basic conversation. There's still a long way to go - learning a language is like climbing a hill and NEVER reaching the summit. Reminds me of fumbling through Thai back in the day. I'd say Khmer is more difficult - though perhaps I'm biased having learnt Thai first?

Author

One day Chris handed me a manuscript he'd been working on. A pair of hammock-bound hours were spent exploring the mind of a fellow Englander who'd also ended up here - the end of the line. Frank Sinatra puts it best:

If I can   (duh duh)   make it there

I'll make it   (duh duh)   anywhere

It's up to you

Kam Pot     Kam Pooooootttttttttt

So, aye, I read it. And it was brilliant. He'd managed to seamlessly conflate the unlikely bedfellows of epistemology, maths, drugs and hookers in a hilarious yet engaging read. He asked me to write a forward and I found myself, not for the first time, crippled with impostor syndrome. I persevered and was rewarded with a French meal - three courses no less - ooh la la.

Mint

Not the Geordie word but the Linux OS. Win11 did one of its hefty automatic updates hogging bandwidth and causing 144p youtube to stall - before doing a classic Win98-era BSOD (blue screen of death) rendering lappy as useless as the aforementioned rat trap.

Win11 was thus wiped off the face of the 256GB SSD and Linux Mint 22.1 Cinnamon installed. Faster, smoother, cleaner. Should've done it in 2022. Linux Mint is mint.

City Slickers

Having enjoyed three free meals recently (landlord, Chris and a Glaswegian bloke I'd helped), it was time to restore universal balance. Tony was visiting so I shouted him and Paula posh pizzas made by jing Italians. Canny.

I really enjoy his visits. We rode to Kampong Trach (again) but preferred just lazing around the pool of his posh digs, drinking Nescafe and talking shit. Turns out he's a Linux geek too.

Next were Alex and Gray - on a precision bombing campaign targeting Pattaya-esque debauchery. Just like how ants can find tiny fragments of food anywhere, these two can sniff out naughtiness in camouflaged niche environments. True professionals. Alex was on a six-month bounce after landing one of those new Thai DTV visas. Graham was enjoying a break from the teaching grind. Great laugh.

Zero to Hero

Gray first came to Asia as a mere youngin back in the noughties whereby he unwittingly embarked upon the archetypal hero's journey. He arrived bereft of certificates and, like many before him, wanted to build a life here. He spent years hustling while working towards an OU degree before returning to Da-YooKay to get full-blown QTS++. He's thus broached the event horizon of teaching aristocracy and now *enjoys/endures* a mega-paying gig in one of Krungtep's premiere tier-one internationals. Well played bonny lad. He's now formally entitled to hock a greeny in me dinner.

*delete as appropriate

Laang time

The Toon won a trophy. Finally. After 70 years. Even though my interest is massively diminished these days it was great for family and friends - something like 300,000 turned out for the bus parade. However, the jubilation masked stabs of pain - wishing Fatha was here to see it. He took me to hundreds of matches back in the 80/90s - both home and away. Good times. Sadly, there'll be many Geordies about my age in that boat.

Looit Loy

Three whacks of $199.99 were lifted out my account. The bank phoned asking if I'd used the card as there'd been suspicious activity. They said I'll get the $600 back within 30 days and then charged me $5 for cancelling/renewing the card - a final kick in the bollicks hehe.

Gym

I never take the dog-n-bone to the gym as it's often a place of quiet contemplation. Tony had his as I managed 5 reps of 130kg - a personal best (or PB in gym-bro speak). Can't believe I'm at these numbers.

He'd also brought some protein and creatine from the big smoke as part of his weight loss regimen. He mixed me a cocktail and after swigging it I ended up spaffing $115 on a batch.

A new massage place opened near the current evening hang-out that ticks all the boxes. Although the recently acquired language skills feel more like a ball and chain here as she harangues me about any Barang I might know looking for a gf. It's no coincidence that I learnt the word for bust here: Jen Duk Mok - literally: Out Water Come. Debauched filth.

Embrace the chaos

I rode both the Trump Pump and the Trump Dump.

On the 1st May 2015 I started work with an early retirement safe withdrawal rate of $0/month.

Totally skint at 41.

On the 1st May 2025 I have an early retirement safe withdrawal rate of around $3,000/month.

Sabai sabai at 51.

I worked full time for 73 months (6y1m) and saved an average of 80% of each pay check represented by the green dots. Those 73 green dots add up to $175k. I also got $60k back from the 2011 scam represented by the blue spike in 2018. The red line represents periods of unemployment and/or retirement.

During the last decade I studied economics relentlessly, transforming myself from hopelessly ignorant and irrationally fearful to more knowledgeable and increasingly confident. It's criminal that investing and retirement planning is not taught in schools, though I suspect that's by design.

At some point over the last decade I've held:

CEFs, ETFs, Stocks, Crypto, Bonds, REITS, AGNC, CRF, PSEC, O, VTI, SCHB, BND, SCHZ, HYLB, SPHY, SCHD, SPHD, SCHF, DIV, ARKK, TSLA, MSTR, GBTC, MSTY, BITB, IBIT, ETHE, HPQ, ICLN, BTC, ETH, BCH, OMG, LTC, XLM.

Today it's simplified to just five: SCHB, MSTR, MSTY, TSLA and IBIT. Luckily for me, this allocation has destroyed the cookie-cutter indices. Is it risky? Yes. Is it volatile? Yes. Is this financial advice? No. I'm still the same tard who lost 100% in 2014.

It's best not to get too excited as 2022 delivered a 50% haircut sending me from $1,400 to $700. February tariffs shaved off 30% in a single month. It's crazy that temperamental markets determine my living standards, but that's how it is - perhaps volatility is a synonym for vitality? Those on "fixed" incomes are simply abstracted away from the inherent randomness by virtue of their fund managers' mandate to hold "risk free" bonds. "Risk free" being in air quotes as the next monetary cycle looms large on the fiscal horizon - all eyes glued to 30y gilt yields.

If America tanks. Or the brokerage is hacked. Or Elon Musk dies. Or synthetic covered call options are banned. Or a meteor hits. Or the sun explodes, then yeah, I'm fucked. However, these risks are far lower than a single thieving bogan bastard half-inching me life savings. So we'll see.

Plenary

I'd been conditioned to fear volatility when I should've embraced it. That fear of risk-taking paradoxically caused me to lose everything in 2014. One of the most powerful lessons I've learnt is that nobody cares more about your money than you do. When you realize this and take responsibility for making your own financial decisions it brings a tremendous sense of power and control to your life.

The truth is, with effort, anyone can out-compete the Keynesian charlatans.