11 years on, Altantuya's bigwig killers stay elusive to the law but we all know who they are! (updated)

The three accused arriving at court (photo: AFP)

Despite a detailed confession of pre-meditated murder from Sirul Azhar bin Haji Umar (IC No: RF12559) recorded in Police Report No: 7380/06 on 9 November 2006 at 1635 hrs by Inspector Nom Phot a/l Prack Dit, the Court of Appeal on 23 August 2013 decided to let both Sirul Azhar and his instigator Capt. Azilah Hadri walk free.

Sirul Azhar (left) & Azilah Hadri 

It has been established that Capt. Azilah Hadri was from the elite UTK (Special Operations Unit of the Royal Malaysian Police) and had served as personal bodyguard to then defence minister and deputy prime minister Najib Razak. He was summoned by Najib’s ADC and security chief, DSP Musa Safri, after Abdul Razak Baginda reported to his close friend and biggest client Najib Razak, that he was being harassed relentlessly by a very determined Mongolian woman demanding her share of a RM540 million kickback from a top secret French submarine deal.

Sirul Azhar stated in his police statement that he was recruited by Azilah to assist in “taking care” of a nuisance named Aminah alias Altantuya Shaariibuu. He even added that a cash reward of RM50,000 –100,000 was involved. I doubt Sirul knew who had made the offer, and even if he did, whatever name he mentioned would have been deleted from his statement by police officers eager to protect the VVIPs in Umno Baru.

'Taken care' of at least 6 others

The third accused in the gruesome murder trial was Abdul Razak Baginda who submitted a sworn affidavit to the effect that he had briefed Capt. Azilah Hadri on the problem of Altantuya. Razak Baginda said Capt. Azilah had assured him he was quite up to the task, even boasting that he had previously “taken care” of at least six others.

Nobody in their right mind would confess to cold-blooded murder - more so when the victim is unknown to them and happens to be a pretty woman given the brush-off by some well-heeled and politically connected casanova. Altantuya was obviously not a hardcore criminal. Who would have had the heart to shoot her twice in the head point blank even as she was pleading for her life – and that of her unborn child? Whatever crime she might have committed, blackmail for example, she deserved her day in court. Every policeman knows that – or should in any case.

Altantuya Shaariibuu in Europe with Razak Baginda

However, Capt. Azilah Hadri and Sirul Azhar weren’t ordinary cops. They were commandos with the UTK, trained as crack sharpshooters and willing to carry out orders without question. Whose orders? Surely they would not obey Abdul Razak Baginda – a mere civilian, albeit one with political clout? The orders had to come from a superior police officer, in this instance Najib Razak’s ADC, former DSP Musa Safri, who has since been promoted and transferred to a different state.

Political masters must take the ultimate responsibility

"Could do with more kickback"

Why was Musa Safri never called as a witness during the trial, which ran a record 159 days? He was security chief and ADC to Najib Razak and Rosmah Mansor. Whatever action he took would have been at their behest, in the interest of their personal security. DSP Musa Safri was clearly a loyal servant to his political masters. They are ones who must accept ultimate responsibility for the actions of their loyal servants – particularly if these actions involved abduction and cold-blooded murder, topped by the use of military-grade plastic explosives to destroy evidence of a dead body carrying an unborn child.

We must not forget that somebody in the Immigration Department deliberately deleted from the computer database all entry records of Altantuya Shaariibuu and her companions. Who would have the authority to order such a criminal act? In October 2006 when the drama unfolded the Ministry of Home Affairs (which controls the Immigration Department) had recently been restructured and, although Mohd Radzi Sheikh Ahmad was nominally in charge, it was a period of confusion without clear lines of command.

There must be someone very high in the power hierarchy to accomplish these grievous misdeeds without a hitch (almost). Who does all the evidence point to? Who is the common denominator in this complex web of intrigue?

Was Rosmah really not at the scene? Or was she?

Altantuya Shaariibuu (6 May 1978 – 20 October 2006)

Abdul Razak Baginda had friends in powerful places but maintained a relatively low public profile. He had little to lose except his reputation if his sordid affair with Altantuya became public knowledge - apart from facing the wrath of his wife, Mazlinda Makhzan (a director in the company involved with the submarine deal). Even if this scandal resulted in an investigation by the MACC, it would have been a routine matter to get the case closed after the excitement had subsided.

Same goes for the uniformed personnel involved in the case. Musa Safri may have been guilty of abetting a serious crime, but as a typical Malay police officer whose loyalty to his Tuan Besar superseded his duty as a public servant, he would have received a measure of sympathy had he confessed his role and cleared the path for justice to be served. Capt. Azilah and Sirul were clearly implicated, via Sirul’s confession as well as the detailed statutory declaration signed by private investigator Balasubramaniam a/l Perumal. However, their role was essentially to carry out somebody else’s dirty work.

Raja Petra Kamarudin

In a statutory declaration signed on 18 June 2008 by Raja Petra Kamarudin (the controversial blogger and editor of newsportal Malaysia Today better known as RPK), several others were implicated in the sensational murder. Indeed, RPK’s declaration revealed that Najib’s ambitious wife Rosmah Mansor may have been at the murder scene, along with two high-ranking officers attached to the defence ministry’s engineering corps, Lt Kol, Abdul Aziz Buyong and his wife Lt Kol. Norhayati Hassan, both experts in the use of C4 explosives. RPK claimed he had been given this shocking information by a senior Military Intelligence officer.

RPK subsequently retracted his statutory declaration in April 2011 in a heavily edited interview with TV3, a government-friendly station, explaining that he cannot be certain if what he heard was actually true. His excuse was that he felt it was his duty as a citizen to make public what he had been told in confidence. Others saw it as a clue that RPK might have been instigated into filing his June 2008 declaration by factions focused on derailing Najib Razak’s prime ministerial aspirations.

Who has been leaking the info?

Within Umno Baru there are many who would like to see Najib Razak and his influential wife removed from the game – and the Altantuya scandal serves as the perfect weapon.

Three names immediately spring to mind: Mahathir Mohamad, whose primary goal is to ensure that his youngest son, Mukhriz, eventually becomes prime minister; Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah, who has been eyeing the PM’s post since the mid-1980s; and Muhyiddin Yassin, Najib’s erstwhile deputy, who certainly wouldn’t mind a shot at taking over as Top Gun (or at least seeing the man who fired him forced to step down).

While an in-depth inquiry into the Altantuya murder would have revealed the fact that the Scorpene submarine scam was first mooted in 2002, during Mahathir’s tenure, Najib Razak would definitely be implicated as he was then Mahathir’s defence minister.

Abdul Razak Baginda, according to P.I. Bala’s explosive statutory declaration of 3 July 2008, had been introduced to Altantuya Shaariibuu by his buddy Najib Razak at a diamond expo in Singapore. In an unguarded moment, Razak Baginda had confided to his private eye that Najib could not afford a major scandal after being appointed deputy prime minister, only one step from the top. So he wanted Razak Baginda to take over the role of sugar daddy to his high-maintenance Mongolian paramour.

It is public knowledge that Najib Razak has always had an eye for beautiful women. This weakness is every public figure’s Achilles’ Heel – especially in a political jungle acrawl with hidden predators and a culture supercharged with hypocrisy and false piety.

Hotbed of intrigue

Dr Shaariibuu Setev, father of the murdered girl

With such colossal amounts of money involved, Umno Baru qualifies as a hotbed of intrigue. Parry and thrust, bribery and threat, playing one faction against another – these are par for the course in our benighted political milieu. Nobody wants to risk losing everything, so marriages of convenience, cynical pragmatism, and political trade-offs become the norm. Who cares about the truth? It’s all a matter of perception anyhow, and that’s where the professional spin-doctors come in. Who cares about justice? It can be bought and sold if you have deep pockets.

Umno Baru has sunk up to its tall songkok in a quagmire of deceit and a conspiracy of silence. While some may be happy to see Najib and Rosmah brought down and taken off the game board, there are others who fear losing power completely in the event of an ugly leadership tussle. They would rather serve a tainted leader who can offer them perks – than a clean one who might immediately sack them for incompetence and greed.

A nation that closes its eye to cold-blooded murder

In happier days: Altantuya with her firstborn

And so, eleven years after her cruel and unnecessary death at the hands of ruthless mobsters posing as the government of Malaysia, Altantuya Shaariibuu’s ghost has yet to be appeased. The deafening silence surrounding this nightmarish episode reveals a conspiracy at the highest levels of power – and the entire Barisan Nasional federal government is, in fact, guilty of complicity in first-degree murder.

Since the government is supposed to represent the whole nation, every Malaysian will suffer the same curse – until we reclaim our collective conscience and our pride as citizens of a nation gone horribly wrong. Is that what we deserve after 60 years of nationhood – to be seen as a gigantic crime syndicate of congenital liars, hypocrites, thieves, rapists, and murderers?

[From Malaysia Chronicle, 28 October 2013. First posted 13 January 2014, reposted 18 October 2014 & 11 August 2015]

THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL (revisited)

The root of all evil isn't MONEY, contrary to popular belief. It's JEALOUSY. How so? Consider the greatest of all possible evils - MONOTHEISM - as expressed in the utterly psychotic statement: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me, for I am a jealous god." You may substitute "goddess" for "god" and the results are equally abysmal.

Just ask yourself this: if you were indeed the One and Only Deity in Existence, would you be constantly looking over your shoulder in anticipation of rivals or threats to your Absolute Status? In Barbara Hand Clow's nebulous tome, The Pleiadian Agenda, I was struck by a powerful quote attributed to the Prophet Isaiah: "Monotheism breeds fanatical anthropocentrism, which eventually destroys Earth." How absolutely and tragically true.


Such a jealous, spiteful, insecure, and vengeful deity can only engender generations of jealous, spiteful, insecure, and vengeful humans. The Old Testament records the first instance of murder in the story of Cain and Abel. The archetypal case of sibling rivalry wherein a deity plays favorites with two brothers over their ritual offerings and arouses a jealousy so intense it leads to fratricide. Fast forward to Abraham and his sister-wife Sara, whose greed and jealousy result in the unjust expulsion of Hagar, the servant who bore Abe his first-born son, Ishmael. Behold, the remote descendants of Ishmael (generically known as Arabs) to this day continue to be cruelly treated by the remote descendants of Sara's freak-birth progeny, Isaac (generically known as Jews)!


My savage punk wife Anoora is a real cutie... except when possessed by the demon, Jealousy. This demon she inherited from her mother, whose emotional insecurity was pathological to the degree that it drove two previous husbands to drink, distraction and, eventually, divorce. Anoora's ego insecurity very nearly drove me mad during the first few years of my sharing space with her. She couldn't even tolerate my having a conversation with another woman.

Yet, as time passed, she reserved the right to ogle every good-looking young man who came to stay with us - and after a while became emboldened enough to openly flirt with them. I'm happy to report that in the last two or three years, Anoora has finally matured and relaxed to the extent that she's now open to befriending my female visitors - sometimes to the extent of attempting to hijack their affections. The day Anoora manages to entice another man with her feminine charms, I would consider my Henry Higgins experiment a complete success. There's nothing sadder than being married to a spouse nobody else would contemplate borrowing for a wild weekend or even flirting with.

Now jealousy is in itself a self-fulfilling prophecy, in that the person you proclaim to love - and whose exclusive devotion and sexual attention you demand - invariably begins contemplating the pleasures of strange flesh as soon as nagging suspicion begins to rear its ugly, deformed head.

I can happily swear eternal allegiance, affection, and friendship to anybody who has won my heart... but to insist on exclusivity seems to me the epitome of insanity. Imagine vowing to eat at only one restaurant your entire life. That's an insult to FOOD!

The crux of the problem is that monotheistic religions have programmed their followers into believing there is only ONE way to be married, and only ONE interpretation of wedded bliss - and that's MONOGAMY!

My own parents were married for more than 60 years... but Dad probably had that many lovers on the side (and Mum quite a few too, though far more discreetly)... and most folks do indulge in a fair amount of "illicit" (read "unlicenced") sex, only problem being they have to be hypocritical and sneaky about their behavior - instead of being good-humored, honest, and open-hearted about their own testosteronal or pheromonal propensities. Of all the women I've known, perhaps only two or three were virgins before they met me - but I've certainly loved and cherished the others no less, and enjoyed them all the more for their sexual experience and emotional maturity.


I'm convinced that if POLYAMORY was included as another way to explore LOVE and HARMONY, the world would blossom into a spiritually wholesome and truth-valuing place - where deceit, hypocrisy, guilt, and vindictiveness cannot flourish, and destructive jealousy will be seen for what it is: an emotional disease!

I feel sufficiently seasoned to declare myself a pantheistic pansexual. That's right, folks: everything and everybody is actually quite edible if your perception is pristinely unclouded.

Polyamory: The Next Sexual Revolution?

[First posted 7 January 2007, reposted 7 January 2011 & 11 September 2016]

TAK BOLEH BOGEL (NO NUDITY) IN MALAYSIA (HERE WE GO AGAIN!)

Spencer Tunick

Another unpublished Letter to the Editor... 

It’s been ages since I felt moved to write a letter to The Editor. The urge to air my views in print has been building up since the Nude Squat furore erupted (seems like the only “legitimate” way you can see people naked is to arrest them first). City Hall’s declared intention to penalize folks caught smooching or even holding hands in public was irksome news to me (some of my fondest memories involve exactly that). But the final straw was the email I received announcing that free screenings of international films organised by Kaki Kino at FINAS have been suspended till further notice, after a shrill complaint about uncensored “babak lucah” (nude scenes) appeared in a leading Malay daily.

Imagine a lush lagoon, festooned with giant ferns and flirtatious mermaids. A man and a woman, both well-tanned, are strolling hand-in-hand along the sandy shore, gloriously naked. Is that not a veritable vision of paradise? Granted, the couple could also be modeling chic beachwear by Jean-Paul Gaultier (but that would be too much like a glossy magazine ad).

Now imagine a fast-motion sequence showing Tokyo commuters at rush hour – all respectably dressed in office apparel and suffering from gastritis. Or a slow-motion montage of KL traffic after a heavy afternoon downpour. Cut to the gory aftermath of a car bomb attack in Baghdad and then crossfade to a wide-angle closeup of an American-made Israeli bulldozer, demolishing a Palestinian neighborhood, as terrified women clutch babies to their hearts and wail in despair. Hellish scenes, for sure – but they would get past the censors, no problem.

Why is this so? Are we being indoctrinated to perceive pain as okay and pleasure as not? Is it any wonder that crime reports are getting more gruesome by the day? Maybe it’s time to reassess what sort of messages we’re being programmed with.

There’s no way I can conceive of a kiss or a hug, regardless of who’s doing it and where, as being indecent or offensive. These are signs of love and affection. Are these warm feelings WRONG? Folks who react negatively to romance and sex were probably deprived of cuddles as kids. They’re likely to inflict corporal punishment on their own children as a matter of routine. Those who express alarm and outrage at the sight of female nipples are undoubtedly some inorganic lifeform in human guise that never experienced the life-sustaining comfort and nourishment of mother’s milk. How do you think a baby would react to seeing a bare breast or two on the screen? Lodge a self-righteous report with the religious police... or gurgle with happiness?

Spencer Tunick

All it takes is a bit of common sense and reason. There’s nothing shameful about our bodies. Fat or sinewy, hairy or baby-smooth, the body is our sovereign domain, our physical home. Naked or adorned with sparkling gems, bodies are magnificent by divine design. Everybody loves being naked. In the bathroom or the bedroom, being naked means you’re enjoying a hot shower or some hot sex. Or maybe you’re just relishing a good poop or your private space after a marathon immersion in public affairs. What’s so scandalous about that?

We live in the hot and humid tropics. The sort of place where clothing is merely a fashionable option. You won’t find too many nudist colonies in Alaska or Tibet. Arab women have traditionally had to cover up to protect themselves from desert sandstorms, camel farts (possibly radioactive since Gulf Wars I and II) and temperature extremes. Were it not for fear of their control-freak husbands, don’t you think they would celebrate being in their own skins if they were magically transported to a balmy beach in the South Seas? Talk about “inappropriate attire”... being wrapped in thick cloth from head to toe on a sweltering day in the city sounds like a portable sauna to me. But to each his or her own - I’m happy in my sarong and flip-flops.

Spencer Tunick

I have to be honest with myself. I love looking at beauty, and women are embodiments of the Great Goddess, deserving of admiration, love and respect. If a naked woman walked past me in the street, I would certainly turn my head for a second look. And I’d feel absolutely no guilt or shame about doing so. Nor would I - uncontrollably overcome by animal lust - drag her by the hair off to my cave and show her my etchings. Unless, of course, she handed me a perfumed note with precisely such a request. Even so, I’d rather she walk back to my cave on her own two feet than drag her all the way. I have a different concept of exercise.

Immaturity has its place, I grant that. However, let it not be exalted as the arbiter of our behavior and our moral code. There’s no immorality in portraying the human form in various stages of dress or undress in the adult cinema. What’s truly immoral is imposing on others our own limitations and limiting beliefs. Do we really value the grotesque hypocrisy censorship encourages? Are we to blinker our cinematic vision (like the proverbial katak under a tempurung) in a knee-jerk reaction to the poisonous outpourings of a pusillanimous prude?

Sincerely,
Antares
Kuala Kubu Bharu
27 April 2006

[First published 12 January 2007, reposted 1 July 2012 & 20 September 2016]

Excerpt from an open letter to Akmal Abdullah, deputy editor of Berita Harian (published 1 August 2006)

Dear Akmal Abdullah, I am not particularly pleased that you exist. Why is this so, when we haven't even met and you don't know me from Adam? But is that so surprising - considering your predilection for campaigning to ban movies you haven't even seen? Well, Akmal, I think you ought to be banned from paradise - unless you wise up and 'fess up to having been an outright obstruction. Akmal Abdullah, you stand accused of suppressing art and denying life. Have you anything to say in your own defence? When you look into a mirror, are you happy to be the person looking back? Do you see a frog trapped under your own obscurantist coconut shell? Will you repent and henceforth channel your energies towards being creative rather than destructive? Or will you dig in your reactionary heels and doggedly remain a blight on the face of the earth with your acute case of 'cemburu kampungitis'? The Chinese have an instructive saying about this: "The midget does not grow taller by chopping off other people's heads."

Please heed these words if you'd rather be greeted by decent folk with a pat on the back instead of a kick in the butt.

A TIGER'S TALE ~ by Remez Sasson

A teacher and his student were walking from one village to another, when they suddenly heard a roar behind them. Turning their gaze in the direction of the roar they saw a big tiger following them. The first thing the student wanted to do was to run away, but as he has been studying and practicing self-discipline, he was able to halt himself, waiting to see what his teacher was going to do.

"What shall we do, Master?" asked the student.

The teacher looked at the student and answered in a calm voice:

"There are several options. We can fill our minds with paralyzing fear so that we cannot move, and let the tiger do with us whatever pleases it. We can faint. We can run away, but then it will run after us. We can fight with it, but physically it is stronger than us."

"We can pray to god to save us. We can choose to influence the tiger with the power of our mind, if our concentration is strong enough. We can send it love. We can also concentrate and meditate on our inner power, and on the fact that we are one with the entire universe, including the tiger, and in this way influence its soul. Which option do you choose?"

"You are the Master. You tell me what to do. We haven't much time," responded the student.

The master turned his gaze fearlessly towards the tiger, emptied his mind from all thoughts, and entered samadhi (a mystical trance). In his consciousness he embraced everything in the universe including the tiger. In this deep meditation the consciousness of the teacher became one with consciousness of the tiger.


Meanwhile the student started to shiver with fear, as the tiger was already quite close, ready to make a leap at them. He was amazed at how his teacher could stay so calm and detached in the face of danger.

Meanwhile the teacher continued to meditate without fear. After a little while, the tiger gradually lowered its head and tail and went away.

The student asked his teacher in astonishment, "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I just cleared all thoughts from my mind and united myself in spirit with the tiger. We became united in peace on the spiritual level. The tiger sensed the inner calmness, peace, and unity and felt no threat or need to express violence, and so walked away."


"When the mind is silent and calm, its peace is automatically transmitted to everything and everyone around, influencing them deeply," concluded the teacher.

[First posted 23 April 2010]

Steve Jobs in Heaven ~ a very short story by Matt Bors

Cartoon courtesy of Matt Bors who's appealing for funds to publish his first book of political cartoons.

[First posted 24 October 2012]

MERDEKA MUSINGS (updated & revisited)

HERE WE ARE, a 60-year-old nation in mid-life crisis but vehemently denying there’s anything the matter with us. It’s that kiasu neighboring country or those jealous jew-funded westerners – THEY are to blame for all our economic woes!

What about the rising rate of petty thefts, armed robberies, brutal rapes, senseless murders, domestic violence and religious intolerance? Is that an inevitable by-product of “progress”? Or is it simply due to a gross imbalance in per capita incomes resulting from a rigged and uneven fiscal playing field – coupled with a hypocritical attitude towards our affection-craving animal selves, wherein public puritanism increases in direct proportion to private perversion?

Human rights and environmental abuses? The goddam Yanks are the prime culprits – well, actually they ARE, look at their secret mind control projects and the havoc they have been wreaking all over the world in the name of “freedom” - but this essay is about US, not the U.S., even if our flags look pretty alike.

And, besides, the U.S. is only a strong-arm front for the ancient Babylonian Brotherhood which has, over thousands of years, quietly opened branches throughout the globe and is thus the prime mover of the One-World-Order “globalization” agenda (read The Biggest Secret by David Icke; you may be put off by Icke’s tabloid-style muckraking, but the muck is there for sure and we ignore it at our own peril).

MALAYSIA IS CLEAN AND GREEN (my foot!)

I used to get hot under the collar hearing about rampant crony capitalism and the high-level corruption it invariably breeds. Not any more. The corporate crime that works hand-in-glove with institutionalized religion and big military seems endemic to this planet, not just this country. Scandals on the scale of Enron and World.com put our own homegrown ones to shame. I used to think we were living in a dictatorship, an authoritarian police state. Well, compared to what’s going on in America – especially since the Bush gang muscled its way into the White House - we’re practically a Polynesian paradise.

We can no longer take comfort in the notion that we’re not as poorly off politically as folks in Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Indonesia, or Myanmar – nor can we aspire towards the degree of civil liberties and administrative accountability we naïvely believed were to be found in mature “democracies” like Britain, the US, Australia, new Zealand or Canada. Indeed, we no longer have any authentic rôle models, no one to emulate. It’s time to grow up and cultivate our own true identity as Malaysians, and quit wanting to be just like anybody else.


SO WHAT IS OUR "TRUE IDENTITY"?

Just what constitutes “a “global” Malaysian? RM700 million buildings, RM700,000 cars, RM7,000 suits, and RM70 haircuts are hardly the hallmarks of success – contrary to what local policymakers may think. Seven million flags waving from shophouses, cars, and in sweaty schoolkids’ hands are not the true signs of patriotism – even if it all looks mighty festive. It’s all a mere display – and everyone knows it.

But in a culture that’s founded on face-saving, cosmetic appearances are all-important. Even if you can’t afford it, you have to entertain your guests with a lavish wedding dinner at a 7-star hotel. So many people buying and flying the Jalur Gemilang (“Brilliant Stripes” - that’s what we call the Malaysian flag) must mean people are quite happy with the ruling party, right?

I’ve spotted vans with as many as ten flags fluttering from their roofs. Recently I saw a teenaged boy on a BMX with a full-sized Jalur Gemilang affixed to his tiny bike. It was an amusing sight indeed – but I couldn’t help thinking the kid would be equally proud flying the KFC, Nike, Manchester United, Hand Brand Groundnuts or Selangor Football Club insignia.

Amongst shopkeepers it would appear that displaying the Malaysian flag in the weeks leading up to Merdeka serves as some sort of talisman against bad luck (in the form of possible harassment by overzealous local council personnel - such as we seem to have within the Ampang Jaya Municipal Council). In other words, not making a public show of “patriotism” may prove inimical to one’s business prospects.

Alas, being a patriot isn’t quite the same thing as showing loyalty to the elected government of the day – but the lines are often blurred, and deliberately so.

From my perspective, pride in our country is best shown in simple gestures like making an effort to keep our streets and drains and parks and forests and beaches garbage-free. Or being vocal about polluting industries and corrupt practices in public office. Or being proud of and sustaining our reputation for hospitality, generosity and warmth towards guests and passing strangers. For that matter, why not let charity begin at home by being more polite, patient, understanding – and honest - with our own compatriots? Why wait for a major disaster to show the spirit of camaraderie?

My first visit to Burma was in 1984 – but I still recall how impressed I was by the honesty of the people I met. For example, the donkey-cart driver who ran after me, anxious to return the wallet I had dropped in his vehicle. Or the smooth-talking street hustler who wanted to buy a pair of jeans from me with a US$100 bill; and when I apologized for not having enough change, quietly advised me never to accept US$100 currency notes from the locals as they were all counterfeit (“You good man, I don’t cheat you, but Israeli, ha ha ha!” he added, which was perhaps the nicest compliment I received in Burma).

I believe the only way we will ever acquire a “true identity” as a nation is by simply allowing – if not actively encouraging – spontaneous cultural expression without attempting to control it with antiquated censorship laws and heavy-handed bureaucratic supervision. Being multiracial and multilingual is a genuine asset – not a liability as some are moved by fear and insecurity to think.

No one can dictate the terms and conditions of artistic flowering. One need only sit back, relax, and let it all happen. Of course, channeling sufficient funds towards supporting homegrown arts practitioners would greatly ease and accelerate the process. But this needs to be done with no overt or covert ethnocentric agenda. Otherwise, the culture we breed will turn out to be sycophantic, insular and syphilitic. And that would be far worse than having no culture at all – and therefore no national identity. Unassuming anonymity is a great deal more appealing – and a lot less self-destructive - than overweening pride and self-proclaimed fame.


[Cartoon courtesy of Lato' Lat]

[First posted 3 February 2007]

Three Versions of David Bowie's "Space Oddity"

Behold... the original 1969 music video for David Bowie's 'Space Oddity' from the promotional film Love You Till Tuesday directed by Malcolm J. Thomson that only saw the light of day in 1984 when Bowie had become a major star. It was reissued on DVD in the UK in 2005.



Low-budget "official video" produced & directed by Mick Rock in New York, December 1972.



A revised version of David Bowie's Space Oddity, recorded in 2013 by Commander Chris Hadfield on board the International Space Station with all the benefits of digital tech. Revel in paradise, Starman!

The Mysteries of Machu Picchu ~ 52-minute documentary

Deep in the Andean mountains lays a mysterious ruin named Machu Picchu. For 400 years it sat abandoned on its misty cliff, the quintessential lost city in the jungle. Rediscovered in 1911, it contained no written records or carvings, nothing that could shed light on its history.

For a century since, it has defied the endless scores of visitors and scientists who attempted to understand its purpose. Who were the mysterious people who built it and why did they build it here? Today an international team of archeologists, engineers and scientists are finally piecing together the clues. Together they are discovering astonishing new burials, revealing the intricacies of its ingenious engineering and finally decoding the secrets of Machu Picchu.

Meltdown at Madame Tussaud’s (revisited yet again)

For generations we have pissed on people with impunity.

Our power was brokered with brute force – it was literally “Off with his head!” whenever anyone dared to openly disagree with or criticize the order of things.


Our authority - more correctly spelt “awe-thority” - issued from our ability to shock and awe the illiterate masses with displays of superior physical and psychic firepower. As Barry Long postulates in his seminal work, The Origins of Man and the Universe (The Myth That Came To Life): the earliest gods consisted of an elite cabal of magicians and sorcerers who activated their third eyes ahead of the pack, learned the use of psychic force by utilizing their brains as holographic projectors, and thus were able to control the collective unconscious of their subjects through mediumistic shamanism and the inculcation of tribal totems and taboos.

We established the first monarchic dynasties and schooled our heirs in the divine right of kings. Our subjects were implanted with hardwired control mechanisms that took the form of ignorant superstition masquerading as religious faith.

To question the moral behavior of the gods was labeled blasphemy; any word spoken against a king or queen was labeled sedition. Complaints against high-ranking priests, courtiers and ministers were considered defamation.

We outlawed mystical experience and replaced it with solemn ceremony and pompous ritual. Inspired insights and revelations were systematically reduced to dogma and doctrine; turned into an academic priesthood to jealously police the orthodoxy of the status quo.

Over the millennia, we created what young people today recognize as The Matrix – an ingenious machine to harvest the vitality of all living things, generation after generation, to support in grand style the privileges and insatiable appetites of a well-connected white-collar criminal upper class.

But it’s all breaking down now from the sheer weight of its own accumulation of misdeeds and miscreations. The long-enslaved masses have begun to awaken from their cultural trance. They realize that the punitive deity installed in their operating systems to rule them through fear is no more than a scarecrow, a being of straw, literally a stuffed shirt.

All the gods have feet of clay and will never dismount from their pedestals. The institutions created to uphold the edifice of busyness-as-usual are mostly infested with maggots in human guise – time-serving functionaries of the state, who can see no further than the next paycheck and who dream only of the retirement benefits they have been promised in exchange for loyal, unthinking service.

Long disconnected from their own internal moral compasses, the minions who continue to uphold the hierarchy of conformity and mediocrity may – on rare occasions – experience momentary confusion and doubt.

Does the monotheistic, judgmental, punitive, vengeful god to whom some of us pray actually exist? Or is He just a virulent meme implanted in our tribal memories?

And does He (of course it must be a Heavenly Father, for no order-obeying, rank-saluting storm-trooper would deign to take orders from a mere woman) take offense whenever we think an unwholesome thought, or utter an unsavory word? And will our offspring, if left uncircumcised or unbaptized, be forever barred from paradise?

And if we spend the better part of our time in church or at the mosque gossiping about other people’s sex lives – instead of paying heed to the wisdom of our own inner voices – would that ruin our prospects for a happy afterlife?

We have become compulsive liars and hypocrites to avoid punishment. At some level we know the knack of twisting truth is a survival mechanism that has long outlived its purpose. But do we still remember what it means to be honest and candid - regardless of the consequences, real or imagined?

Can we deny the feeling, long suppressed and buried deep within our subconscious memories, that our entire life has been but a meaningless charade, a colorful and noisy parade that camouflages the endless procession of sorrow and subterfuge our existence has been reduced to?

Behind the glossy façade of our public personas are we proud of and at peace with our true selves? How long can we fool ourselves with our own hype – even if it’s the most expensive grade of hype, paid for by hapless citizens?

Like everybody else with a broadband connection (that actually works) I have been monitoring - with fascination, disgust, horror and far-too-frequent outbursts of outrage - the social and political metamorphosis we are undergoing as a young nation with an ethnically heterogeneous population of 30 million.

The aftershocks of the electoral earthquake and psychological tsunami that occurred on 8 March 2008 continue to be felt on all levels. Five years later, on 5 May 2013, Barisan Nasional lost the popular vote but retained control of the federal government (with a little help from the Election Commission and huge amounts paid out to buy the loyalty of chief minions).

Now fear grips the cold hearts and poisoned psyches of the power elite - while hope flaps its fragile wings as it attempts its first tentative flight within the souls of all who truly love this land.

We have seen all the evidence we need that the pouting, pink-lipped overaged brat who has seized the post of prime minister is, in fact, more accurately described as a crime minister. The catalog of his misdeeds is legend, as only to be expected of somebody born into a political dynasty with blood on its hands and groomed from young for power.

His second wife, who could well be a favorite niece of the murderous witch Mona Fandey, has attracted massive scorn and ridicule - but carefully shields herself from the anger and resentment of the masses by engaging a retinue of professional fawners and sycophants to administer to her overweening vanity.

Constantly plotting intrigue behind their opulent backs is a gigantic can of writhing worms that represents a political party created expressly by a megalomaniacal former leader to enrich his family and supporters through colossal infrastructure expenditure and secret contracts. A political party with no tangible philosophy, no remaining ideals, no sense of evolutionary inevitability.

All it can boast is a reptilian kill-or-be-killed survival program that manifests through diverse forms of thuggery, uniformed or plainclothes, disguised as various law enforcement agencies and fake NGOs.

And yet there are courageous individuals in our midst who battle valiantly on for the restoration of justice, freedom and accountability in government. They do so at the costly sacrifice of their own personal careers and at great risk to their own lives. Some are forced to endure neverending litigation; others risk incarceration, exile, and even assassination (though we are fortunately a nation that has never as yet resorted to “termination with extreme prejudice”).

Those of us who admire and applaud these magnificent individuals for fighting the good fight on our behalf must bear in mind that we cannot achieve salvation and redemption by proxy (forget what religious orthodoxy says about Jesus dying for your sins, that’s utter crap!) Each of us has to gain entry to the promised land through our own hard-won integrity and impeccability as spiritual warriors and agents of illumination. If you can’t learn to ride a horse vicariously, what makes you think you can qualify for heaven on earth through other people’s virtue?

In effect, we really have no option but to consciously embody all the ideals and values we desire to see prevail in the world around us.

If you object to secrecy in government, then divest your own life of dark and dire secrets and do whatever you do openly, without fear and without apology. If your behavior impinges negatively on others, you will immediately be alerted to their distress. In which case, the mature response is to adjust your behavior so that it no longer poses problems for others. If you feel a stinky fart coming, just walk a few steps downwind of the crowd.

If you cherish freedom of expression and the free flow of information, then allow others to express their own thoughts and feelings without getting offended and retaliating violently. Even if they insult your pet beliefs and laugh at your fashion sense, learn to shrug, grin and walk away without making a major issue of it.

If you wish to be recognized and appreciated for your contributions, begin to freely give those around you generous amounts of positive feedback (when they deserve it, of course, for we do not condone hypocrisy in the New Dawn).

And if you truly value your glorious evolutionary destiny as conscious, volitional, sensing-thinking-and-feeling beings, then take time out from your daily routine to reassess what you’re doing with your life and what are your authentic goals.

When enough of us acquire the necessary self-discipline to regulate our own public behavior, there will no longer be any requirement for an external police force. Perhaps we will only need to maintain a token force – simply because some folks look so sexy in uniform.

[First published 19 August 2010. Reposted 6 May 2012, 11 January 2014 & 3 Sepember 2015]

FLASHBACK TO AUGUST 2008: UMNO'S HOUSE OF HORRORS (revisited)

RIGHT: Pin-up shot of Saiful Bukhari in a baseball cap that has been circulating the internet; Pederasts Anonymous have expressed Socratic interest in this promising young man and invited him to be their mascot

SAIFUL BUKHARI BIN AZLAN ON MALAYSIAKINI:

"I swore in the name of Allah at the Federal Territory Mosque this evening in accordance to the teachings of Islam and as advised by religious scholars and teachers that I was sodomised by Anwar Ibrahim."

What is Saiful saying? Islam teaches people to swear in the name of Allah (whose own credibility, credentials, and existence have yet to be established to everybody's satisfaction) whenever accused of any behavior deemed to be an offence? Any boy as pretty as Saiful will have had a long history of being "hit on" by males as well as females. By the age of 23 he ought to have learnt how to accept or refuse such erotic advances. To now claim he was forcibly sodomized by a 61-year-old man with a bad back defies belief - unless he was drugged and raped, which is a whole different scenario. Anyone who has ever attempted penetration of a tight anus will attest that this is virtually impossible without the the acquiescence, consent and wholehearted cooperation of the person to whom the anus belongs.

Penetration by force would result in tissue damage, bleeding and scarring easily detectable by even a cursory rectal examination - and we already have the sworn testimony of the good Burmese doctor at Hospital Pusrawi that no such signs of forced entry were discovered. Apparently a subsequent rectal examination of Saiful Bukhari at Hospital Kuala Lumpur also confirmed that there were no signs of forced entry. Saiful can swear on every book in the world till he's blue in the face - but that won't alter the results of the rectal examinations. Unless, of course, Saiful has an extremely accommodating and elastic anus that allows him to be sodomized by a rogue elephant and still show no physical signs.

Alpha blogger Raja Petra Kamarudin has disclosed on Malaysia Today: "At 2.30pm on Wednesday, 25 June 2008, Senior Assistant Commissioner (SAC) II Mohd Rodwan Mohd Yusof (shown right in a 1998 file picture) met Mohd Saiful Bukhari Azlan in room 619 of the Concorde Hotel in Kuala Lumpur. Prior to this secret meeting, Rodwan and Saiful spoke on the phone at least eight (8) times."

Now this is an extremely detailed disclosure which suggests that somebody within the police force is extremely unhappy with the dirty business at hand and has chosen to be RPK's "Deep Throat." I didn't hear any reporters questioning Saiful at yesterday's press conference about his connection with SAC Rodwan Yusof (who has been accused of helping Musa Hassan falsify evidence against Anwar Ibrahim in the 1998 sodomy allegation instigated by Mahathir). No doubt Saiful would have replied: "I will answer that in court later."

"The oath I've taken was done voluntarily and it was done to uphold the truth as a Muslim, a Malay and a Malaysian."

Saiful Bukhari sees himself as primarily a Muslim, then a Malay, and lastly a Malaysian. I'm sorry, Saiful, but being any of those doesn't add any credence whatsoever to your oath. The Umno chaps all claim to be Muslim, Malay, and Malaysian - and that has never stopped them from lying through every orifice just to cling on to power.

"I understand that if the allegations and oath that I've taken under the name of Allah are not true, I will be cursed by God and tragedy and curse will come upon my family and the generations after me forever."

Even if God lets you off light, Saiful, you can bet your arse you will be spat at and shunned by a lot of people for stooping so low just for a bit of cheap publicity and a "scholarship" from Umno. But please leave your fiancée out of this curse business - I'm sure she had no idea what she was in for. Curse your father (pictured right), if you like; he looks like someone already accursed.

"I've taken this oath to prove that my allegations are completely true. This is the best way for me to attain justice in the world and the hereafter and for me to redeem my pride and dignity as Allah is the only place where I can complain to."

Load of crap, boy! Taking that oath on the Qur'an proves only one thing: you're convinced that other Muslims will be inclined to believe you're telling the truth, and that's what this evil game is really about - to poison the minds of Muslim-Malay voters against Anwar Ibrahim, the greatest threat Umno has ever faced in its entire history. And if you truly feel Allah is your recourse, why did you bother going for a rectal examination at Hospital Pusrawi before lodging a police report on 28 June as instructed by your Umno handlers?

"I've done this for God and I took my oath in the house of God, that I was humiliated and sodomised by Anwar Ibrahim and I do not wish to lie to the world as he has done."

You twisted little shit, Saiful! Umno is NOT God! You've been offered filthy lucre to "sacrifice yourself" to save Umno from Anwar Ibrahim - and you saw a golden opportunity to attain global notoriety as Anwar's political assassin - exactly like Mark David Chapman believed he would forever be remembered as the fuckwit who shot John Lennon.

Saiful, an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent God would already know what a "good" boy you are (no need for you to sumpah on the Qur'an, that's only for show); an all-powerful God would have intervened to protect your chastity from being ravaged. God the omnipresent also resides in your anus and, for all we know, probably relishes the occasional rectal probe!


[First published 16 August 2008, reposted 22 September 2011]