Return of the Son of the Incurable Dr M? (recycled & updated)

TRICK OR TREAT? Saying "Hallo" To Changes On Halloween

ON OCTOBER 31ST, 2003, I awoke with a big bellyache – something I rarely experience as my guts are pretty resilient. I had to skip breakfast, my favorite meal of the day, and meditate on where the problem might have originated. Was it something I ate? I recall feeling a slight unease in the stomach area as early as yesterday morning but it subsided enough for me to ignore it.

Then I thought about the incurable Dr M. He’s scheduled to “retire” today... isn’t he? Hard to believe he won’t still be calling the shots from behind the curtains, he’s such a power junkie, we’ll have to watch this space.

And I remembered that not so long ago, a large number of us were real mad at him for sending his goon squads out to intimidate, beat up and incarcerate all those clamoring for political change by going out on the streets. Things got so heavy national laureate Shahnon Ahmad felt compelled to publish a novel called SHIT – a sort of post-colonic polemic against stubborn old turds that won’t make way for younger hotshits. I didn’t make it past the first chapter but the book was indeed a provocative artifact documenting the acute constipation of our political process. [Umno backbenchers raised a big stink and Parliament quickly passed a motion to revoke Shahnon Ahmad's national laureateship, which led to his joining PAS.]

Uneasy stomachs are an indication that something’s not quite right. Could it be simple greed? Did we eat too much junk food too fast? Perhaps the buffet wasn’t all that fresh? Did we eat the mussels – they looked so tasty – maybe they were a bit off? Did flies lay eggs on the sambal belacan? Did someone slip some arsenic into the nasi lemak?

The stomach is the seat of the solar plexus, home of the ego. When someone complains of sakit perut, the cause is often ego insecurity. Why should we be egoically insecure, just because our Great Leader has announced his departure from the prime ministership? Isn’t the ship of state in capable hands? Surely, the tragic tale of the Titanic isn’t about US?

Is it possible that a sizeable number of Malaysians support the status quo because we see in Dr M the sort of chest-thumping alpha-male gorilla we secretly want to be? He has been performing all his daredevil feats on the nation’s (or at least his sons’) behalf – frogmarching the economy out of the IMF’s way through the fiscal crises of 1997-98 while singlehandedly beating back the angry mobs marching out of mosque gates and into the streets, scaring shopkeepers, tourists, and Umnopotentiaries.

This sort of acrobatics certainly takes a whole lot of gall and sheer guts to pull off. Indeed, one is reminded of the Baobab in St Exupery’s Le Petit Prince which sucks up all the nutrients from the soil, so nothing can grow in its monstrous shadow except the most unscrupulous weeds.

Perhaps there have been moments when the indomitable Dr M was forced to wear adult diapers so no one would notice his nervous diarrhea: bringing Anwar Ibrahim to trial was indeed a hairy and scary affair. True, Mahathir had 17 years of political incumbency in his favor – plenty of time to create a whole generation of bureaucratic drones. Still, you had to have skin as tough and thick as a rhinoceros to call yourself a judge or attorney-general or the chief of police in Dr M’s regime. Even playing head of medical services required a stiff shot of Chivas three times a day after meals, what more being assigned the unenviable task of editor-in-chief of a national daily?

Never in the nation’s memory since 1969 has the horizon of decency been so totally obscure – and this isn’t something like the annual smog we can pin on the Indons. The moral murk simply won’t blow or wash away, despite disastrous flood-bringing monsoons. It’s something every proud Malaysian has had to accept and live with – if he or she isn’t particularly keen to have PAS rise to power and separate the sexes by hudud and turn the country into another Iran – thereby replacing a secular tyranny with a religious one, O the Irany of it all!

Then along came Dubya and the Neocon White House in 2000 - even as the world sighed in short-lived relief that we had rolled over into Y2K without apparent mishap or a cybernetic apocalypse. In very short order, the astonishing behavior of the world’s remaining superpower, New Rome aka the USA, began to eclipse financial and political improprieties closer to home.

But soon it began to dawn on a sleepy-eyed humanity that carpetbagging and skullduggery are as pivotal to power plays as Rodgers and Hammerstein or Lerner and Loewe to musical plays. With the benefit of hindsight and increased historical insight, we recognized that the inheritance and maintenance of earthly power has been an outrageous scam from the Year Dot, regardless of what costumes the players wear. Politically, the rakyat are still wearing balls and chains in Plato’s Cave, mesmerized by the wayang kulit extravaganza put on by a wily priesthood of black magicians, today known as doctors of spin (because they love making the masses dance to their tune).

Dr M’s pointed tirades against the Bush push for Global Empire were excellent PR. They served to distract local yokels from the stench of unwashed urinals at home and unify them against what was clearly seen as a larger threat – the Return of the Ugly American.

“We must outlaw war on earth,” the Brilliant Statesman declared to the international press on the eve of the barbaric bombing of Baghdad. And a week later he would mollify his discomfited generals with a fresh order of jetfighters or submarines.

“The Jews rule the world by proxy,” he would remark at the OIC conference with stunning political incorrectness, while throwing another rubber bone to the baying Ketuanan Melayu faction, to keep them from burning down the Chinese Assembly Hall (where industrious little yellow Jews are manufactured under licence from the Awakening Dragon).

And once again we have to admire, even if reluctantly, his absolute foxiness and firm grasp of statecraft. What better way to win hearts and consolidate the Islamic world at a time when most of us are speechless with horror at Ariel Sharon’s unimpeded Palestinian holocaust. For the first time in more than two decades, I find myself feeling almost proud that our beloved country has spawned such a feisty uncrowned monarch.

Now if his final act as prime minister is to unconditionally release Anwar Ibrahim from wrongful confinement in a gesture of clemency and reconciliation, even his worst detractors will soon stop calling him Mahafiraun Zalim (the Cruel Pharaoh) and regale his reign as one of monumental achievements amidst tumultuous uncertainties.

The good news is that I sometimes see myself in all these strutting and fretting manifestations of Macbeth – and therefore cannot persevere in my righteous indignation at their perceived misdemeanors. At the end of the day, they are no more inhuman than any of us who has ever been irritated to the point of destroying a particularly troublesome ant colony. For these are colossal, demiurgic egos who view the great unwashed as only good for casting ballots or shooting bullets at official enemies.

Well, here’s more good news: modern incarnations of ancient gods are a dying breed and will soon become extinct – unless they evolve into ethical aesthetes and use their innate charisma for artistic purposes, to produce beauty and truth – instead of more fear and greed and ecocide.

This Halloween, I make my peace with Dr Mahathir [again!]. For all the unsympathetic judgments I have passed on his actions as a prime minister - and for all the unkind thoughts I have held in my heart as regards his well-being - I privately and publicly apologize.* He has only tried, like his precedessors, to be a Father to the Nation; and, as is inevitably the case within every family, there will always be a rebellious son or daughter to contend with, who won’t buy Bapak’s little lies and who can see only his feet of clay.

My own dad used to think fluorescent tubes are a wonderful idea – I vigorously disagree. Some of my best friends are convinced that the 3D Matrix is all there is to existence – I absolutely disagree. Most of the world still believes that Time is Money and that Money is the Bottom Line. As for me, I stubbornly believe (like José Argüelles) that Time is Art and the Bottom Line is Truth – Truth tempered with Love.

There comes a time when every prodigal son or daughter becomes a parent in their own right – and we are suddenly confronted by a thousand grey areas, a million-and-one anxieties, an infinitude of conflicting agendas to balance and juggle against a tidal wave of unforeseen changes. Suddenly, we see the futility of blaming our parents for the way we turned out. We stop hating them for having been overly harsh, heavy-handed, too busy, too ignorant of or totally indifferent to our emotional needs.

Who we are and what we shall become are entirely in our own hands.

But it certainly helps to first reconcile, redeem and heal our past with compassion, understanding and non-judgmental love. Then it would no longer seriously concern us who’s steering the ship, driving the bus or piloting the plane – unless they happen to be power-drunk on duty and their bad performance puts us at risk, in which event it should be a simple matter to get them sacked at the earliest opportunity. Just as you don’t normally want to know the cabbie’s name unless he cheats you or is unacceptably rude, why should we worry whether the prime minister’s name is Anwar, Archibald, Balbir, Chee Cheong Fun, Dorairajah, Delilah, Elijah, or Nurul Izzah?**


Happy Halloween, folks! Don’t be so easily spooked. Remember, politics is just a bunch of rowdy kids in scary costumes out for some tricks or treats.

Antares
31 October 2003

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* Hard to keep my promise. That Metallic-voiced Megalomaniac is so goddamn irritating, I'll have to deliver one more tight slap before I apologize all over again.

** Notice I deliberately omitted the name Mukhriz. No way this land can survive being ravaged by TWO Mahathirs. And that smug-faced Son of the Monster Magnet doesn't have a single original idea in his head anyway.

[First published 31 October 2008, reposted 17 August 2013]

A TIME FOR MASSIVE CLEANSING AND CLEARING OF PSYCHIC TOXINS (repost)

On June 5th, 2009, I attended an 11:11 Activation Ceremony at a local healing center named "Eagle's Nest" in Sungai Penchala Village. It was a difficult spot to locate but scenic enough once I arrived. There were some really sweet folks already gathered there and it promised to be a memorable occasion.

The ceremony proceeded smoothly enough, though the energy was rather low-key throughout. For me the best part was an extended late night supper with three funky women afterwards.

A few days later, to my utmost surprise, both my legs began breaking out in boils. This was something I hadn't experienced in decades. I couldn't figure out what was happening in my body. Where was all this poison coming from?

It so happened that around this time my second daughter paid me one of her rare visits with an empath and energetic healer named Sandra Sweetman in tow. Sandra is extremely sensitive to magnetic fields and in the course of our conversation mentioned that she had recently been to the Eagle's Nest and felt troubled by what she experienced there. She said it was like the scene of a violent murder - the whole place was unsettled and rife with murky frequencies.

I couldn't say for sure that the toxins in my bloodstream erupting as boils on my legs came from the Eagle's Nest. But I had been walking around barefoot part of the time and might have absorbed some of the unwholesome exhalations from the earth. Nevertheless, I was aware that the area was charged with very primitive magic going pretty far back in time. There must have been a large enclave of bomohs (Malay witch-doctors) residing in Sungai Penchala within the last hundred years or so.

It was also clear that ruthless "development" over the last few decades had all but wiped out the original forest, including a thriving Orang Asli community in Bukit Lanjan, leaving tiny patches of green here and there. Perhaps the small hill upon which the Eagle's Nest had been built was the final refuge of all the nature spirits that had been rudely evicted from their forest home by a massive invasion of chainsaws and bulldozers?


A close friend who had been at the June 5th ceremony complained of acute lethargy and went for a medical check-up. It was discovered that she was suffering from severe bacterial infection and required a massive dose of antibiotics. She later had a session with clairvoyant healers who described her condition as a case of vampire attack. Apparently, her body was infested with astral parasites which had to be pulled out like ticks.

The clairvoyants were assisted by a shaman named Ishtar who told my friend he once lived in Sungai Penchala and on one of his walks around the area had noticed a disturbance in the magnetic field. On closer investigation he realized it was a dimensional crack through which many astral and elemental entities were emerging into the physical world. He immediately sealed the portal the best he could - but it appears to have been reopened since.

I tell this anecdote as an example of what happens when humans resort to primitive forms of sorcery to attain petty objectives, e.g., gaining political influence, securing the affections of a desired lover, or attracting heaps of money.

The entire Malay Archipelago is rife with ancient magic and mysterious phenomena. To attain and retain political power in their own countries, many have relied on occult help from professional mystics-for-hire. President Sukarno, for instance, was known to have consulted an old magician who lived in the Elephant Caves of Bali. Even Mahathir, a medical doctor by qualification, was widely rumored to be in possession of a powerful family toyol (gremlin) who did his bidding and protected him from psychic attacks.


By now it's common knowledge that Rosmah Mansor, the crime minister's larger-than-life wife, is particularly fond of magical talismans and charms and that she herself possesses a measure of witchy powers.


On 7 September 2008 I posted a story on my blog with the following commentary:

Oh dear, what is this country coming to? On the eve of the Permatang Pauh by-election, Malaysia Today featured a statutory declaration by one Thangarajoo a/l Thangavelu, former chauffeur of Datuk Kenneth Eswaran, close personal friend of DPM Najib Razak and his wife Rosmah Mansor, attesting that he had "on numerous occasions" driven a Hindu mystic named "Mr Ji" to the residence of Najib and Rosmah for the purpose of conducting Hindu prayer rituals "to ward off evil." Swamiji's magic is clearly potent, which might explain why neither Najib nor Rosmah has been subpoenaed to testify at the Altantuya murder trial, despite glaring evidence linking both to the crime.

As Raja Petra Kamarudin rightly pointed out, if what Mr Thangarajoo stated is true, it would totally invalidate Najib's widely publicized attempt to declare his innocence and non-involvement in the macabre Altantuya murder by swearing on the Koran before a mosque audience that he had "never met that Mongolian woman."


One cannot claim to be a bona fide Muslim and believe in Hindu ritual magic at the same time.

In any case, I must report that ever since the Permatang Pauh by-election which saw Anwar Ibrahim winning massively to become Parliamentary Opposition Leader, the psychic atmosphere in this country has become progressively denser and murkier. The astral gunk became even thicker towards the end of 2008 when Najib's ascension to power came under severe attack on all fronts.

Shortly before Najib took over as prime minister from Abdullah Badawi in April 2009, it was reported in the press that security personnel had stumbled on a mysterious object with Jawi letters written all over it hidden under the PM's chair. What does that mean? As to be expected, there was no follow-up to these reports.

However, I couldn't help but notice that petty squabbles soon began erupting from within the ranks of the Pakatan Rakyat - and every time there was a minor misunderstanding between PKR, DAP or PAS officials, the BN-controlled media would magnify it a hundred times, thereby creating the illusion that the Pakatan Rakyat was on the verge of disintegrating.


In the last few months the situation has further deteriorated with the onset of the annual smog caused by oil palm plantations (mostly owned by Malaysian tycoons and their cronies in Umno/BN). I myself have had to make a conscious effort to maintain my emotional equilibrium against a strong tendency towards general irritability, alternating with bouts of despair as I see the forces of darkness and injustice regain ground within the national psyche.

The fact that ever since the obscene Perak power grab people have mostly given up on the Malay rulers as bastions of justice and wisdom doesn't help either. Look around and you will notice that every public institution has been corrupted beyond redemption: first on the list, of course, would be the Polis Di Raja Malaysia, closely followed by the gestapo-like Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission, the Judiciary (especially the so-called higher courts), and even the Malaysian Medical Council whose director-general, Ismail Merican, has shamelessly revealed himself as a political pawn of the ruling party, particularly over the controversial Saiful and Kugan cases.

Things came to a head in mid-July with the grotesque death-in-custody of Teoh Beng Hock, a fresh-faced young political secretary with the Democratic Action Party, who was hauled in for "questioning" by the MACC - and never left their premises alive. The inquest is ongoing, albeit at snail's pace.

One can easily conclude that the entire nation is now being mismanaged by black magic, just as Haiti was with the entry of the Duvalier family - or Uganda under Idi Amin and Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe.

What can we do to neutralize this extreme negativity?

The most effective method would be to pay close attention to our own personal integrity. Rid your hard drive of corrupted and useless files; uninstall programs you never use; and clear your computer system of any spyware that might have embedded itself in your root directory. In short, cleanse yourself of useless fears, prejudices, and antiquated beliefs.

If you fall ill, look upon it as the body's way of cleansing itself of toxins. I allowed the sores on my legs to run their course in order to rid my body of all the bacteria that had infiltrated my defences. I chose to view it as a special service I was performing for the residents of Eagle's Nest, helping them clear the space for healing.

Awaken the shamanic potential in yourself. Each of us is endowed with a certain amount of psychic sensitivity and the ability to heal ourselves. Now more than ever, these natural gifts are urgently needed - if we are to free ourselves and our beloved land of malignant and vicious parasites that have fattened themselves off our vital energy for generations.

[First posted 13 August 2009]

STRICTLY FOR PUSSY LOVERS (repost)

Cats are oh so dramatic...

Not roast chicken again!

Keeps the whiskers dry.

Erks!

Waterboarding a Taliban cat.

No Keep Off The Grass signs either...

Come on, let's do the penguin shuffle!

Bolero!

Alledgedly asleep...

Cat Stevens before he became a dog.

Pass me the monkey wrench, will you?

Federico Felini & Caterine Deneuve

Karate Kat

Late again... never date a Persian!

Jaws with paws.

Can you fetch the sunblock, honey?

Let this be a warning to you. No more street protests!

Merce Cunningham's cat.

Kung Fu Kat.

Suck my tail.

Oops... dropped the tampon!

Chinaman bite cat... not news.

Good to have some me-ow time.

This post is dedicated to 

the sweet furry memory of 

Solara's magickal cat,

Mari-Mari.

This bunk is taken. 

Hrrmmmmph.

[First posted 6 June 2012, reposted 5 August 2015]

Exploiting Religious Insecurities (reprise)

A Malay Student Front representative (left) gatecrashes the Bar Council's forum yesterday on Islamic conversion, yelling: “I represent Umno. Stop this forum! Don’t insult Islam! You... Chinese, Indians, go to hell!” (Photos courtesy of Malaysiakini) 

Never a dull moment. That sums up Malaysian politics since the 12th General Election on 8 March 2008. Even as the nation celebrates the 61st birthday of prime minister elect Anwar Ibrahim in eager anticipation of a smooth transition of power come September, we are rudely reminded of the wide disparities that divide Muslims from non-Muslims, Malays from non-Malays. Disparities easily exploited by those frightened by the sweeping transformations underway and who can always be counted upon to resort to the race-and-religion card to protect their own vested interests. 

At this crucial juncture in our political evolution, we have to keep a cool head and stay calm. Five months after the political earthquake that forever altered the course of Malaysian politics, there are still many who fail to comprehend the big picture. Scared and confused by the rapid changes they see around them, they can be easily goaded into creating havoc on the streets - thereby giving the fascist BN government an excuse to declare an emergency and reclaim their power through military rule. Don't forget who's still in charge of the Defence and Home Ministries.

We must not allow reactionary forces to whip up ancient fears and resentments in order to thwart our collective dream of a mature, multiracial, multicultural nation at peace with itself and prospering as a harmonious rainbow family. Remember, 300 misguided religionists do not speak for 27 million. No matter where you go, you will find a handful who cling fanatically to narrow, sectarian beliefs. In a healthy, mature society, opposing views can be expressed without recourse to violence. The Bar Council, after all, hosted the forum mainly to bring certain "sensitive" issues into the open by encouraging intelligent public debate. The timing, as it turns out, wasn't quite right.

Nevertheless, it's particularly depressing to note that Zulkifli Noordin, PKR's Kulim-Bandar Baharu MP, was among the leaders of yesterday's rowdy protest over the Bar Council forum. What message is Zulkifli sending to all those who have put their faith in a Pakatan Rakyat government? That when it comes to questions of Malay rights and religious freedom, nothing will change? This, of course, puts Anwar Ibrahim in an awkward spot. If he advises people like Zulkifli within PKR to downplay religious differences, Umno will be quick to use that as evidence that Anwar will sell out the Malays. After so many decades of Barisan Nasional's racist policies and divisive politics, it will take some time for the people to voluntarily break down the walls of interethnic mistrust and build solid bridges of understanding and love between the various communities. With Pakatan Rakyat in charge of the Ministry of Information, the powerful reach of the mass media can be utilized to foster genuine friendship and the spirit of cooperative symbiosis amongst all ethnic groups - rather than keep racial and religious issues simmering undebated and unresolved. 

Allow me to use an analogy to illustrate the situation we are faced with in Malaysia. Let's say we're flying 20,000 feet above sea level in an airplane and a few of us are veteran skydivers eagerly anticipating the moment we hurl ourselves from the aircraft and experience the sheer ecstasy of freefall before we pull the cord of our parachutes and float gracefully down to the ground.

Now, can you imagine the fear and hesitation you might feel if you've never done this before? Do we despise the novices in our midst and jeer at their cowardice? That would be extremely unkind and uncouth. We mustn't push them either - because we would then be responsible if, in their panic, they forget to pull the cord and plunge to their deaths. Those of us who have long outgrown our emotional attachment to a particular belief system can be compared to veteran skydivers who have taken that leap of faith into the unknown many times before. The novices have yet to experience the sense of freedom one feels when liberated from childhood indoctrination and social rituals. Naturally, the unknown scares them. They cling to the safety of the aircraft rather then hurl themselves wholeheartedly and gleefully into the freedom of speculative metaphysics, rational secularism, agnosticism, atheism, or pantheistic mysticism.

But, given a little more time and encouragement, they will one day become veteran skydivers too. In other words, when dealing with folks who are emotionally attached to a particular belief system - and who closely identify with belonging to a specific ethnic group - it's pointless to force the issue or waste your breath trying to talk them out of it. Just love and honor them wholeheartedly regardless of their belief systems. Remember, it's really a question of software preferences. Some people are constantly upgrading to the latest versions of everything - while others haven't even taken their first tentative steps into the digital age. Some folks are neophiles (swift to embrace the new) and others are neophobes (terrified of new ideas). In any community, some individuals serve as the accelerators of evolution; while others function as the brakes. Good driving requires that we step on the accelerator more often than the brakes - which means the more adventurous and open-minded members of the family are the natural-born leaders, while the more conservative ones keep us from speeding too fast and colliding with obstacles. They're the ones who remind us of our origins and heritage and keep us rooted to terra firma, to Mother Earth. I have absolute faith that given sufficient time, all belief systems begin to mellow or break down into simpler elements - and yesterday's fanatics will be tomorrow's sages.

[Read Moris Farhi's excellent essay, God Save Us From Religion! First posted 10 August 2008]